Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 41, Decatur, Adams County, 25 July 1895 — Page 8

A BURNED LETIER. There it lies. A small heap of ashes and a few fluttering’, blackened leaves. And this is all that r’mains of aonee crested sheet of gray Letter paper, exhaling a perfume of white violets. I « under to what extent it really represented the sentiments and thoughts of the charming society girl 'from whom it came. A fascinating young woman whose eye are as blue as are the violets whose breath seems always to ding to everything she Swears What a pity women are not as honest as are flowers. A man could then reach to some satisfactory conclusion about them and with them. A flower may be beautiful but odorless, like the camelia. in which it makes no pretense at pleasing more than your eye. Or, it is less perfect in shape and color, but with so sweet a breath that one never grows tired of having it around. There is no sham in a flower—but with women I’m inclined to believe it’s all sham. Humbuggery and sham! The prettiness and outside charm are apparent enough. But when it comes to the genuineness of the perfume of sweet thoughts and tender graces, and to the splendid charity of sentiment, which, if women only knew it, enwraps them around with an attractiveness far more potent than the most subtle and penetrating perfumes, man is all at sea. He can't for the life of him tell ,i..e honest, can t say whether they are divinely constituted, or if it is merely the imitation article. He is charmed one day by unexpected revelations of deep feeling and an appreciation of the lofty and the beautiful in life, or at least by what looks like it, and he is repelled the next by a clear and distinct exhibition of a careless heartlessness which would forever and a day disgust him in a man, but which only serves to upset him mentally by creating a thousand and ot» doubts as to which of the two phases of character is the preponderating one in the complex feminine nature he happens to have under consideration. If she is fair of form and face—as Alice undoubtedly is—he generally gives her the benefit of the doubt and resolutely closes the eyes and cars of his better judgment against those ugly, villainously small traits which are as great a disfigurement to her mental and moral graces as would be a deep crack across some exquisite Sevres porcelain vase, a fatal blemish, by which all the beauty and value are ruined and destroyed. That's where the constant and everlasting mistake of a man’s life is committed. He can never judge of a woman by the same standard, the same clear-sighted mental gauge, which he applie's so easily to his fellow man. For every one knows that to properly conduct any kind of business correct insight into character is essential. That we manage to acquire easily enough in school, college and practical everyday life, and for the reason that we deal with each other. But I defy a man to be certain sure of anything on earth or in Heaven when his calculations must rest on some feminine basis, where instability is inevitable. But perhaps other men are cleverer than I am. Cameron seems to get on swimmingly with all his ladv friends, and to und> island tn?:n. toe. which is altogether another matter; even Alice Dacres —that s more than I can do, hence this small pile of burned letter paper. And - v that I'v • drove ’ the little giri’s pleasant words and sweetscented missive. I'm fool enough to regret it, and to half-believe she was genuine in her wish that I call some evening. Os course. when she says I must bring her “Trilby,” it is only a feminine way of helping me to an excuse for a visit Then again, when a man wants to have a friend around for a smoke and chat, he says: “Drop in, old fellow. ’... s evening at eight, Ulad to see you.” and there's an end to. He tyants you. and you go or you don't as suits your convenience and fancy. Little Alice being essentially and charmingly feminine, writes a sweet rigamar jle, very suggestive or meaning abs ilutely nothing. And yet. she must know how gladly I would call on her this evening and to-morrow evening ami every evening of every year if I could. But she tells me to bring her “Trilby." and winds up with a stiff “Yours sincerely,” and the information that she is “so glad she leaves shortly for Europe."

Does she or does she not want me to call? If she does care to see a poor devil whom she knows down in the bottom of her heart is infatuated with her, who is ass enough to dream of her sweet blue eyes, and to stull violets in his coat pocket because they remind him of her, why does she write she is “so glad she will leave sl» rUy for Europe?" If she does not care a rap (which is cleariy the case) whether a fellow eats his heart out in vain longings to be with her and to hear her careless, sweet laughter, and to watch all her dainty prettiness and probable frivolities, then way does she cruelly throw the temptation in his way to call, just to force him to undergo the heartbreak of telling her good-by and bon voyage? Cameron goes abroad this summer. I suppose he will take the steamship she goes on, an l they will flirt out rageou=iy on the way across. They are sure to meet in Paris and among the Alps, and I suppose will come home in the fall, engaged to each other. Another foregone conclusion of a failure in marriage. They will neither of them tolerate the other's failings and frivolities after a few years of enforced companionship. There’s a vast difference, little Alice, I can tell you, in a summer flirtation uu the deck of an ocean steamship crossing to Havre and a elong companionship with a nice, shallow fellow, accustomed to have his way in everything, and to consult his own convenience first and foremost. As for that intense devotion which makes -all sacrifice of oneself a sublime pleasure, you need m>t expect any manifestations of the kind from Charlie Cameron. He's a

nice fellow, but that sort of heroics is ■imply not in him. But. after all. Miss Alice, what are you besides a sweet writer of sweet, unmeaning notes, a dear and charming young woman, admirably gowned, who looks forward with delight to her trip to Europe, nor has a single word of regret at parting with those she ruthlessly leaves behind, although she full well knows the bitter pain she inflicts. So I've burned her dainty scented letter, and I'll take a trip up to the Tennessee mountains this summer, when I’ll forget all about her. lovely little humbug—if I can. “What are you doing, old man? Destroy lug your correspondence?" said Cameron, coming leisurely in and drawing a reading chair to the open window. “Very sensible thing to do. Never leave letters or bills scattered about. Servants are the very devil for prying into a man's letters Must have been scented, judging from the pleasant odor of violets around. What makes you look so blue? Light a cigar and moralize, and you'll feel better. Guess that note did it Now let me give you a tip about a woman’s correspondence and way of writing. It might make you feel better. “Something I’ve learned by experience, and a pretty long and varied and sharp experience mine has been. I can tell you. Whenever you get a note or a letter from a woman—l mean, of course, a young and pretty woman—read it carefully, and, whenever she expresses opinion or sentiment, then believe the contrary of what she writes. Y’ou have no idea what a safe rule that is to follow. A man is sure to come out straight in her good graces and to avoid a lot of unpleasantness if he will bear that in mind. Personally I've found it to work splendidly.” Whereupon Cameron lit a cigar and took up a palmetto fan from the table. “Is that so? Then you would not believe that a young woman was delighted to go off immediately on a five months' absence abroad if she only told you so?” ‘ ‘Of course not. A man must be very green, or verj- unsophisticated where women are concerned, to believe that, if she wrote specially to tell him so. In that case she meant to say: ‘My dear boy, 1 am desperately sorry to go away and leave you. I can't say so outright, so 1 do the next best thing. I wrote to tell you I am going, and I am glad, and if you are not a fool you will understand and do the proper thing.' ” Os course, Cameron is clever. I have always said of him that he is egotistical. but I have never denied his brains. I don't know but what I look upon him now as an unrevealed genius. Perhaps, if he had not been largely endowed with the good things of this world, he would have shown his great capacities by some wonderful invention. “And in your opinion what would be the proper thing to do? What would you do?” I asked, gathering up gently the poor little heap of ashes, the worthless remains of Alice's sweet, misunderstood and harshly treated note.

"What would I do?" answered Cameron reflectively, tipping the ashes off his cigar with his little Anger. "You say she's handsome, and young and rich?" I had not. but it was all true. What I had doubted was her sincerity. "in that case," continued Cameron, “I would go to see her. with the intention of saying good-by, and I would propose to her, and I would go abroad with her this summer on the same steamship she crosses in. "That was evidently the invitation given you in that note you so foolishly biii'Xicu, my boy. I suppose she wants to have you along while she explores the old cathedrals and art galleries and climbs up the Alps. Now, don't fall over some precipice or get caught in some snowstorm in the early fall, before you get back to these shores,” concluded Cameron, while I swept the ashes of my sweet, ill-used note with mingled emotions into an empty envelope, which I put in my vest pocket. "And look here, old man,” said Cameron, as I shook hands, having called up a coupe, “better not mention that you burned that note. Women are peculiar in some ways. Don't like to have their letters ill-treated. Looks careless, and as if you had ugly thoughts about them. I bet you thought that handsome young woman was an insincere little humbug.” "Why, man. I thought she wanted to get rid of me,” I said. “I was puzzling over her meaning when you came in.” “So I saw,” said Cameron, with an amused smile, resuming his palmetto fan and pulling closer into the window to catch the south breeze. “Now just let tne tell you—l have had a large exporiqnce of women, as I said just now. Well, Alice Dacres is the sweetest, most loyal and most sincere woman I ever came across. Her face, beautiful as it is, can't compare to her soul, as you'll find out for yourself some of tnese days. Y’ou are not fit for her, old fellow, I must say. But she fancies you. so I suppose it’s all right. Go and tell her good-by. and propose to her as I suggested. The idea of burning that sweet child's note, and to think that you misunderstood her besides; you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” “I would be if 1 had the time,” I said, impatient at delay, as the coupe drove up. “Good night,” I said. "Thanks for the benefit of that experience of yours.” “Not at all,” said Cameron. “I just wish that note had been written to me. I wouldn’t have burned it. I would have understood at half a glance the meaning it conveyed. Y’ou are no better than a vandal.” —N. O. Times-Dem-ocrat. Journalistic Item. “What do you publish a paper for, I'd like to know?" inquired a politician of a country editor. "For one dollar a year in advance, and you owe me for four years,” was the reply.—Texas Siftings.

A SWEET INCENTIVE. BT BEBTIIA GERNEAI'X DAVIS. There'couldn’t have been a nicer place for thinking. The porch was so pleasantly shaded, and just at this hour in the morning the vines were filled with blue and red and purple trumpets that seemed to need only a hint from the south wind to throw them into musical ecstasies. The green peas were keeping up a remonstrating tinkle of their own, dropping into the bright tin basin as Esther pushed them out of shelter—like tenants ejected by a cruel landlord from their little green cottages. Esther's dreaming was interrupted by a voice issuing from the window above the porch: “Esther, Esther! what did you do with my cuffs? Esther, I'll be late; Joe's waiting for me!” Somehow eighteen-year-old Esther seemed always in demand by some one of the three motherless little brothers and sisters of the household. “Dear me, that boy! What shall I do with him?” and Esther's forehead assumed a complicated pattern of lines and crosslines She brushed the pods from her lap. and hurried up the stairs. “Rob, what do I know about your cuffs? Do you suppose I'm wearing them? Why don’t you leave your things where they belong?" Here she picked up one of the missing articles from the floor, where it had slipped behind the little round table. “I wish you wouldn’t lie in bed so late. There!” producing the other cuff from behind the curtain on the windowledge. “Now hurry down, Robby. I'll have Jane scramble you an egg Y'ou •an’t go off without your breakfast.” “Oh, thanks!" said Rob. as he adjusted his recovered linen. “I know I overslept this morning. Couldn't help it, really. Papa gone?” "Os course. What do you suppose would become of us all if he went on your principles? I'm afraid, Rob, that unless you mend your ways you’ll have to give up your hope of being a doctor when you are grown up. Your patients would all die before you got to them.” And Esther hurried to the kitchen to ask Jane to help her prepare a nice little breakfast for the recreant brother. “Some folks,” said Jane, “hadn’t ought to have any breakfast,” with which very general observation she scurried to the pantry, bringing forth two specially large eggs. While these were "scrambling” she toasted a slice of bread a delicate brown, and stopped, even in her irritation, to select the red-banded plate that was IJob's especial favorite. Really Jane did more for him than many queens of the kitchen would have done under similar circumstances. But then she had helped cuddle him when he was a fuzzy-headed baby; and now that he i was a curly-haired, heedless, lovable boy of twelve, was she the one to go baek on him? A clattering down the back stairs announced his coming. He approached the table with more haste than elegance. "ile'H be a dyspeptic by the time he's grown up," thought Esther, as she watched the fast-disappearing viands. “You’re both awful good,” said Rob Letneeu mouthfuls; "and so's this toast. Wish I had time for another piece.” Now, Roy, try to be home in time for luncheon,” pleaded Esther. “Y'ou know how it annoys papa to have you always late: and then think of the example yin ‘ the other children." "That's so," said Rob, birthday had been celebrated on the week before. “I'll try —h nest, I will.” And he did try. and succeeded in being only three minutes late that noon. But Esther shook her head at the three minutes, and her busy brain concocted a little scheme. She waylaid him on his way to the croquet ground. “Rob, I want to speak to you a moment.” "All right, say on,” said Rob, looking pleasantly attentive. "I'm going to make a bargain with you. If you will be on time at every meal the next four days—breakfasts as well as all the others —I'll let you have a candy pull at the end of that time. Y’ou can have three or four of the boys you like best, and—” “Good for you!” interrupted Rob. The prospect of a candy pull is generally an alluring one to the juvenile mind, and Rob's was no exception. "Shake hands on it. If I don’t fulfill mv part of the contract. I'll know the reason why." "So shall I.” answered Esther, demurely. "It will be because you ‘forgot' or ‘didn't mean to stay so long at the fishing pond,' or—”

“Say, now. that isn't fair,” laughed Bub, guufl-naturedly. 'TTI show y a. I’d be perfectly safe to Invite the boys in advance, but perhaps I’d better not.” "No; better wait and see how you come out,” and Rub fancied Esther looked a trifle skeptics’. It put him on his mettle. Esther’s "scheme” worked like a charm. The next day Bob was one of the first to ansxver his father's "good morning” at the breakfast table. “Well, now,” said Mr. Jordan, as he viewed the youthful faces around him, and dispensed the griddle cakes, "it's pleasant to sit down all together. Let’s keep it up, Bob. I tell you, punctuality is a great thing;” and Bob nodded respectfully, though his father's remark did not bear for him the charm of novelty. Three days passed. Bob was beaming with pride in his own improvement, and in anticipation of the promised reward. The fourth morning he xvas the first to slip into his chairat the breakfast table, and it was at least an hour before luncheon that he left the fishing pond and repaired to the side porch, so as to be sure of hearing Jatxe's summons to the dining-room. "Bob, I'm proud of you," said Esther; "I’ll have Jane order the molasses this evening.” “You’re a brick. Esther,” said Rob "It isn't so awfullr hard to be on tima

after all; and I’m going to keep ft up. too.” The summer a.'rernoon passed away; it was five minutes of six, and the children clamored for dinner. Rob had not put in an appearance, though Esther's fingers were giving the finishing touches to the table The minute-hand seemed to speed over the face of the cuckoo clock; she felt as if it were trying to cheat Rob, and looked anxiously down the path, hoping to see the boyish figure dash in sight. "Cookoo! cookoo!" began the old clock, triumphantly. Still no Rob. Esther was tempted to have Jane delay the ringing of the dinner bell, but restrained the impulse. It would be violating the compact, and, besides, Rob must learn self-reliance, and expect the conwquences of his own heedlessness So the dinner bell added its voice to that of the cookoo clock, and it was a funeral knell, as well as a business-like summ ins to dinner, for it tolled the untimely death of Esther’s little project When the family assembled, there was an empty chair at the table. "Oh, dear!” wailed Sue; and "How mean!" added Freddy, giving the table leg a vicious kick; for you see, Rob had indiscreetly confided to them his secret the day before, and they were looking forward to the candy-pull as much as he. As for Esther, she was thoroughly disappointed in Rob, and she had begun to have such hope of him; it was too bad. Dinner was half over when Rob, flushed and breathing heavily, entered the room. Such a chorus of reproaches greeted him from the children that papa and Esther forbore to add their voices.

"You keep still till your opinion’s asked.” said Rob, goaded into this reproof by the children s gratuitous criticisms of his tardiness. "Yes. children, be quiet." said Mr. Jordan. "Y’ou speak ratner roughly, my boy; but I know that you are disappointed. and your sister and I are almost equally so." Rob attacked the beefsteak in silence, and the rest of the meal was a quiet one. Esther lingered after it was over, half expecting si ■me explanation; but, beyond the remark that he stayed at Joe's longer than he had intended, Rob vouchsafed none. It was the next morning that Joe Simmons came over to the side porch where Esther was sitting in her favorite place behind the vines. “Good morning. Joe." "Good morning, Miss Esther. l—er- " "I suppose you are after Rob. I'll speak to him.” “No. no,” Joe hastily interposed. “I was looking for you." He broke off a morning glory which had gone to sleep under the sun's too ardent attentions, and ground its purple juice into his fingers. Esther, from long experience with boy ways, knew a disclosure of some kina was coming. “Sit down.” she said, pleasantly. "Y’ou have something to tell me. and I want to hear it." ‘•Well—er—Bob was over to my house yesterday afternoon, you know. We had a big time out in the barn, and I— I kinder forgot about the baby. Ma and pa had gone out, you know, and left him to me.” (Lest you might think it a piece of gross neglect on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Simmons to intrust so precious a charge to so youthful an older brother, it is well to state that the infant in question was a sturdy young creature of two years.) "He—er”—another lunge at the morn-iag-g.ory vine—“got a-hold of some green apples, and after awhile he came out to us in the barn, yelling awfully. First we didn't know what was the matter; but we went into the house and saw the pieces that he hadn't oaten, and I knew something must be done right off quick. Cholera morbus, you know, is so awful dangerous 1 couldn't think of a thing to give him but whisky; I knew they gave that in lots of sudden cases; so while 1 held Alfie Bob went after it.” “My goodness' whisky!" said Esther, her startled imagination picturing her innocent brother ma king his way behind objectionable screens. “I hope he thought to go to a drug store.” “Oh, yes'm,” answered Joe, “he did. It was bad enoug h to go there after it. I'm temperance, you know—belong to the loyal legion; but I knew the baby’d got to have something. The clerk told Rob he could get something better than whisky and gave him a bottle of medicine. We gave the baby a dose of it, and after awhile he went to sleep. Ma said (1 told her all about it this morning) that it couldn’t have been the apple that hurt him; he couldn’t have felt it so quick, and besides, it was riper than it looked. But I tell you I was scared at the time. "What I cameround for, Miss Esther, was to tell you that this is what made Rob so late home yesterday. I made him promise not to say anything about what kept him; but I forgot then about the candy-pulling (you know Rob toid me before, that he expected to have one). I didn’t find out till this morning that he was late for dinner. I asked Freddy. Ma said I oughtn't to make anyone keep anything from his folks, and that it generally wasn’t wise to make such promises. But it was all my fault. I hadn't wanted ma t o hear of it, for fear she wouldn't trust me again. And then afterward that seemed kind of sneaking, so I told her myself. I hope you’ll—er-fix it up about the candy-pulling, Miss Esther; not so that I can come. I'd feel too mean for that, but on his account—to make it up for him, you know.” ‘Joe. said Esther. “I’m glad you and Rob are such friends. Thatcandy-pull is coming off this evening, and you and char S ° ing tO haVe the thing iq An hour later Rob, entering the kitchen, found Jane cracking English walnuts, and Esther removing them their shells. “What are you doing?” he asked, curiously. 1 “Getting English walnuts ready for the candy-pull this evening, you blessed boy!” said Esther.—N. Y. Independent.

THE LARGEST LENS. Th , Splendid Achievement of »■> Amer- | lean Manufacturer. The Clarks hare ’ has long been regarded as an imp , ble thing, and one which no European J manufacturer of lenseseould be induced , to attempt. This is the making of a per feet lens of more thau three feet across the face. No one but this American manufacturer ever thought of exceedin- the twenty-six-meh lenses whicl art. in use at several observatories on ( both continents. one at the naval ob servatorv at Washington, through which Mr. Hall discovered the longsought satellites of Mars and many double stars. The highest power was supposed to be reached when the Lick telescope in California was put up " ith n a thirtv-six-inch lens. The difficulties o c be met in the production of a perfevUj clear lens of great size are so many tnat the European observers who have < wanted anything above the twenty-six-inch lens have had to take the reflecting telescope, which has a concave mirror. It requires, of course, a much larger reflecting telescope to get the same amount of light and the same magnitude of object. I The making of this forty-one and a I half-inch lens, says the New York Com- , mereial Advertiser, is regarded as the i crowning work of Mr. Alvan < lark s ( life. It is probable no larger lens will , ever be made. Under existing conditions a larger telescope than the Yerkes—the telescope of the Chicago university observatory for which the lens is made —would be of no great < value. To increase the magnifying I p, .ver is at the same time to increase | the obstructions to clear vision. M hen the object is magnified the atmospheric agitation is increased to such a degree that distinctness is virtually sacrificed I when the object glass is larger than forty-one and a half-inches. It is doubtful if the Yerkes will be any more useful than the Lick. Some day it may be possible to remove the obstacles to clearness in the case of a powerful lens, though the only reason for suggesting it is that Prof. Tyndall was able to construct a glass by which the blue of the atmosphere was dissipated in looking through a deep space. If the Yerkes glass answers expectations it will enable an experienced observer to catch occasional glimpses of the Mars canals, which, though drawn firmly on the Y'atican maps, are vague and wavering and almost imaginary through any glass. They can be seen at all only by the trained observer. The great telescope will be most useful in the study of double stars, which is now a matter of special interest to many observers. CURIOUS TREES. Several That Are Valuable, Gigantic and Historic. The largest orange tree in the south is a gigantic specimen which grows out of the rich soil in Terre Bonne parish, Louisiana. It is fifty feet high aud fifteen feet in circumference at the base. Its yield has often been ten thousand oranges per season. The "tallow tree" of China has a pith from one inch to two feet in di- ■ ameter, according to the size of the' tree, which is composed of a greasy wax, which is so highly volatile that it often catches fire spontaneously, consuming the tree to the very ends of its roots. The largest oak tree now left standing in England is “Cowthorp's oak," which is seventy-eight feet in circumference at the ground. The oldest tree in Britain is “Parliamentary oak,” in Clipstone park, London, which is known to be fifteen hundred years old. The largest apple tree in New York stale is said to be one standing near the town of Wilson. It was planted in the year 1815, and it is on roeord that it onee yielded thirty-three barrels of apples in a single season. There are four hundred and thirteen species of trees found growing within the limits of the United States. The curiosity of the whole lot is the blaek ironwood, of Florida, u hieh is thirty per cent, heavier than water. Well dried blaek ironwood will sink in water almost as quickly as will a bar of lead. The “life tree” of Jamaica is harder to kill than any other species of wood growth known to arboriculturists. It continues to grow and thrive for months after being uprooted and exposed to the sun. Mac's Rejoinder. The captain of a Cunard liner one day while crossing the “herring pond,” found that his ship was not doing the speed he considered she ought to, and, putting on his best frown, he went down to the room of the chief engineer, a hard and dry Scotchman and an amateur violinist. The captain knocked at the door; the gay chords of a Scotch reel played on a fiddle was the only swer to his summons, so he burst the door open, “Mr, Mac,” he thundered, “what are you about? lam not at all satisfied with your engines; we go like snails, sir. Mr. Mac made a flourish with his bow, and, after a jolly chord, said: ‘ Sair, my engines should hae been in Liverpool these three days. It’s your slow old ship that's at fault!” Unhappy Comparison. Ministers cannot be "answered back” on Sunday, but on week days, sometimes, the case is different. “Why weren’t you at the kirk on Sunday?" asked a Scotch preacher of one of his parishioners. "I was at Mr. Dunlop's kirk,” was the answer. "I don’t like your running about to strange kirks in that way. Not that I object to your hearing Mr. Dunlop, but I'm sure you widna like your sheep straying away into strange' pastures.” "I widna care a grain, sir, if it was better grass," said the parishioner. Queer Comment by a BUhop. Os Bishop Bathurst, who was a great whist player, it is related that on hearing the name of a new appointment in the chapter there'was wrung from him the passionate exclamation: “I have served the whigs all my life and now they send me down a canon who doesn't know clubs from spades!”

AGENTS WANTED! To Take Orders. to si < < FAMTI. V* M the best time io etart. For U-rmi wnu am, /* ELLWAMiFH A BARRY, R.che.<er.vf JfuwiU Aareeriee. ZffiaAt'uAeJ Rft, I .E. H LeBRUN, Decatur. Indiana. Office:—Corner Second and Madison Treats ail Diseases of Domesticated Aai. tnals. making a specialty ul Optical Caws, Calls day or night, promptly attended to. S6-ly Capital <130,000. Established IJft THE OLD ADAMS COUNTY BANK Decatur, Indiana. Ove* * general banking busln«*M, maketcollections in all part* of the country. Buv» town, township and Ctninty or Pnretfi and domestic exchange bought .. M>id. l a . tervst paid on tilin' deposits. OHlccm —\\ H. Niblick. PresMbfcker. Vice President; R. K. All.> >n. miner, an I C. S. Niblick. Assistant Cashier A. L. DEVILBISS, DENTIST ireT *' a. a.- a I. O. C . F. BLOCK. professional Den; T.«th extracted without pain. Espe«<• • •:» nt Son given to bridre work like fllu- n alow. Terms reasonable. Offlcv ■ ond street, over Rosenthill’s clothing .lire. 25-it P. W. Smith. Pros J. B. Holthouse. V’-Pm C. A. Pugan, Cash. E.X. Ebingvr, Asst cash Decatur National Bank Decatur, Ind. CAPITAL STOCK <WO.O» Directors—P. W. Smith. William A Kuebler. J. D. Hale, D. G. M. Trout. J. H. it n < A. Dugan aud John B. lloithoUße. Ti. . • does a general banking businc s>. loans money upon approved security, discounts paper, makes collections, sends money to any point, buys county and city orders. Interest given on money deposited on time certificates. Dr. C. V. CONNELL, IliSHfiiij Una ••MHHi Decatur, Ind. - Office I. 0.0. F. Block. Graduate of the Ontario Veterinary Co!b - d Toronto Veter nary Dentil Sell. ' nil di-. .!»••» of . ">re4 ani’ - ■ ... -attended today or ■ in The Clover Deaf. i St. L. &K.C.K. R. in effect May hEAST. Passenger : m. ■ Express iva.m. ! Local I:4ap.ra. WEST. : Passenger ':l’> a. a. I Express '' “ Local B E A. Whiskey. Agent.

The G. R. & I. (Effect June 23. Wx) TRAIN* NORTH. •No. 3. ♦.No. 5. •No.t Richmond 11:00 am 11.25 pm 3;3’P ffi i Parry 11:10 “ 3:40 Votaw 3:48 “ I Harley I Fountain City. 11:25 " Johnson 11:35 *’ 4:10 . Lynn ll:4o “ 12:02am 4:1. 'now Hill 11:46 " Woods 11:49 “ 4:A . Winchester .... 12:00 " 12:20 a m 4:34 _ Stone 12:10 pm Ridgeville 12:10 “ 12:34 am 4-» . Collet 12:32 “ ? : ® _ Portland 12:42 " 12:51 a m ■lay 12:52 ” .. Briant 12:59 “ s: ®r .. ■Geneva 1:07 ” 1:10am S:G Ceylon ■} *•’ . Bertie 1:18 “ -y 1 ! .. Monroe l-;ii *• DECATUR 1:45 “ 1:37 am .. Monmouth h: * .. I Williams 2:01 “ .. Hoagland 2:06 “ „ Adams ":43 ; Fort Wayne,.. 2:35 “ 2:loam “ •Daily, except Sunday. ‘Daily to Brno. Rapids. TRAINS SOUTH. •No. 2. •No. 6. 4 . Fort Wayne..,. 1:15 pm 11:45pm 5'45»® , i Adams Hoagland 1:40 “ 12:14 am ♦>■}•?.. . Williams 1:1. - 12:30 - •>:*' .. . Monmouth "i, DECATUR.... 1:59 " 12:36 " »:* Monroe 2:13 “ 12:4S " ” :44 .. i Berne 2:25 “ 12:59 “ , j Ceylon 1;” .. I Geneva 2:35 1:10 " .. Briant 2:44 " 1:20 " ej’ . Jay .. Portland 3:00 “ 1:40 ” .. > Collett - iS - Ridgeville... . 3:24 “ 2:03 ‘ . ■ Stone “ 'J - Winchester.... 3:44 “ 2:25 Woods “ • l Snow Hill 2:3ft ” • • Lynn 4:05 “ 2:42 " •• 1 Johnson “ y’L - Fountain City. 4:21 “ 2:57 “ I Haley ■■ ; Parry an “ > Richmond 4:45 “ 3:20 " ■ 1 [ ‘Daily Grand Rapids. JDally ex. Sandal--1 Jeff Bktsox. Agenl J C. L. Lockwood, Gen. Pas. Agent. B j Having retired from Boot and Shoe business. t take this method of notify lß s - those indebted to call a? i settle. The accounts mus l ( 1 closed up at once, so call »■ “ the old stand where I maj found .t any Ume hTaoVSi