Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1892 — Page 3

Pair of Jrcks.

BYLVIV Jamisgn

CHAPTER Vl—Continued. “Look, grandpa, at my lovely flower,” said Mary, showing him a really beautiful wild flower. “It is very fine, my dear. Where did you get it?” . "About three miles from here.” “Have you been three miles this morning? I thought -” Mary bit her lip at her mistake. "I did not say I had gotten it this morning, grandpa,” was her rather lame explanation. “No; I thought you had not had your ride. Toby told me last night that he had forgotten your saddle. The poor old fellow was really distressed about it.” “He need not have felt so bad,” rejoined Mary, looking up to And Jack’s eyes upon her. Something in their glace was a revelation to her. The hot blood mounted to her brow, and an overmastering sense of shame swept over her. In the first bitter rush of this feeling, she left the table precipitately. “Grandpa, I’m not hungry, and not well. Please excuse me." These declarations, delivered in decidedly jerky tones, caused Mr. Millard to glance up in some surprise. “Not well?” he repeated, fixing his eyes upon her face; “my dearest, you make me anxious.” “So like you, grandpa, to be anxious for nothing. Upon reflection, I feel wonderfully well, and have a very great appetite.” With which assertion the contradictory Mary returned to her place and reveled in the’ highest spirits during the rest of tlie meal. Only occasionally, yhen by some chance she encountered Jack’s glances, she colored warmly, and dropped her eyes in painful embarrassment. Her grandfather watched her gravely. “I fear Mary is somewhat feverish, ” he observed, with much anxiety, to Jeannette, after breakfast; “the child is always so well that her slightest indisposition alarms me.” “Indisposition,” repeated the practical Jeannette, “I call it temper, sir. Don’t you worry about Miss Mary; I haven’t known her all these years for nothing;” The gentleman appeared unconvinced, but he said no more upon the subject. Meanwhile, the object of this mingled blame and solicitude was crouched in the depths of her grandfather’s chair. Hearing Jack’s step she snatched up the book closest at hand, and, without seeing a word before her, pretended to read. “Is it interesting?” he asked, crossing the room with the air of one not quite certain of his reception. Mary made no answer, and Jack approaching more closely, read the title over her shoulders. “So you read Homer in the original?” he said, very quietly. Closing her book with a snap, she turned upon him; “I want to ask you a questipn,” she said in a voioe of suppressed anger. “Not Greek, but plain English, and I wish a plain answer. What did you mean by the look you gave me at breakfast? No evasion please. You know I took a ride this morning?” An inclination of his head gave an almost imperceptible assent to her question. She understood it, however. “You know,” she repeated, biting her lips fiercely. “How did you know? Did you—see me?” She brought out her words with difllculity, and again Jack assented. “Where?” came more sharply than before. “Starting or —on the way?” “On the way, since you will know the truth.” Her eyes fell, and once more the hot color burned in her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Boverly,” she cried, starting up with a passionate gesture, “I have another remark to make. It is plain English, too. I hate you.” “Don’t go,” he pleaded, as she tided to pass him. “You forced me to tell you. You really did. I’m awfully sorry. I ” “Sorry for what?” “Why, for being there, and—and seeing you,” he returned, taken at a slight •disadvantage. “Sorry for being there and seeing me,” she repeated in a voice suspiciously near tears, and with her face persistently lowered. “ What a kindly way to put it. To spare my feelings, I suppose. Don’t try. I have none to spare. I like unladylike actions. I take to them quite naturally. I’m not ready to have lessons in deportment from you yet, and I wish to gracious you would go where I can’t be meeting you at every turn.” “I will, by all means,” he responded as she concluded her half-choked utterances. “I don’t believe you mean a word of what you have said, though, not a word. I know ” At this point Jack found himself addressing empty air, Mary had departed and for the rest of the morning remained invisible. At dinner time she insisted on remaining in her room, claiming a headache as an excuse, but when her grandfa'ther, considerably worried, came to inquire for himself, she told him she had never felt better, insisting, notwithstanding, on having dinner in her room. Jeannette thought this a most reprehensible exhibition of self-will, and expressed her views quite strongly to the delinquent. “And your grandpa worried nearly out of his wits,” she concluded, “and wanting to send for a doctor. ” “Why will grandpa be so foolish,” said Mary in a slightly vexed tone. “I hope you won’t let him do it, Jeannette.” “Of course I won’t. You need a shak-ing-up much more than you do a doctor, my dear. And I’m thinking you’d better come to supper.” At supper Mary duly appeared, arrayed in a dress Jack had taken pains to say he disliked. Neither she nor Jack was especially talkative, and h r grandfather, who was quite unobservant, was forced to keep up the somewhat flagging conversation. As the evening was cool they went immediately to the parlor, where Mary, in an unusual fit of industry, got out some crocheting and began wcuking on it, as though her very life depenaed upon what she accomplished. “My dear,” said Mr. Millard, breaking the rather heavy silemce, “Jack is thinking of leaving us. You must help me to persuade him to prolong his visit.” “Doffl’t you think we should consider Mr. Beverly, grandpa? Think how long he has been bored by us already and spare him further infliction.” Jack bit his lips, and turning from the window, where his fingers bad been playing an idle tattoo, he addressed himself to Mr. Millard: “I have already imported too long on Four kind hospitality. My visit has been

so thoroughly enjoyable that I cut it short with regret, and if any one has been bored, Miss Mary has been the sufferer, I fear.” His glance sought the brown eyes, bending over the worsted, but Mary’s work was evidently all-absorbing. “We will not discuss your departure any further to-night," responded Mr. Miilard, slightly pained at his granddaughter’s manner. “To-morrow, I hope, will find you willing to give us at least a few days more of your company. I believe neither Mary nor myself is quite willing to let you go yet. Mary, why will you spoil your eyes over that work? Put it aside, my dear, and give us some music. Jack has never heard you sing. ” “And he never will, grandpa. You know perfectly well that I don’t pretend to sing, and that I never, under any circumstances, sing for any one but you.” “Nonsense, my dear; you have an excellent natural voice. Jack will agree wfth me, I am sure, if you will give' him an opportunity to judge. I fear he may think you have no accomplishments. ” “He knows better,” she answered, with slightly darkening eyes. “He knows I can swim, and row, and ride” —she half paused after naming this last a«complishment, and, giving Jack a decidedly defiant glance, added, calmly—“two ways.” The next second she caught her grandfathor’s eyes fixed up.ou her in perplexed surprise, and with a remorseful air and a painful blush, she said, rather penitently: “When you look at me in that way I feel like a > savage. lam a savage, anyway, and plenty of others would be, too, if they dared. I hate people who won’t do things simply because the world condemns them. They are nothing but hypocrites. They’d break a commandment of God sooner than commit a breach of etiquette. They are bound by such a wall of trusts and mistrust, that they lose every grain of individuality, and become such insufferable prigs that I should find it tiresome to look at them.”

Mary concluded this somewhat forcible expression of her views with flashing eyes and a gesture of the hand that gave her words an impassioned emphasis. Then settling back in her chair she once more bent over her work. Jack did not attempt' to conceal the' admiration her attitude aroused in him, but her grandfather watched her more gravely. “Don’t mind Jack,” he said at last; “I understand my little girl thoroughly.” “So do I,” responded Jack much to Mary’s chagrin. When Mr. Willard left them a half hour later Jack brought his chair and placed it close by Mary’s. “Let me have that,” ho said, taking the work from her hand and putting it on the mantel. “Now please tell we whether I am to stay. ’’ “Stay, of course,’’returned Mmry,feeling that he had taken some of her spirit with her woTk. “I have some idea of politeness.” “The last part of your sentence rather spoils tho first. Do you find politeness so hard to practice? You have almost turned your back upon me. That is really not good manners. Is it?” “I’m not capable of judging. I know nothing of good manners. I pride myself' an having particularly bad ones. You need not concern yours;.lf in either event.” He elevated his brows very slightly. “Needn’t I?” he asked. “May I tell you just why and how far I should like to concern myself in your regard?” Ho asked this last question pointedly, and with a new earnestness upon his lace. Her eyes drooped. Something in his glance warned her, and rather precipitately she left her chair and walked to the window. Yet even in the dim light he saw the vivid color that dyed her face, and made a mental note of the fact. In the moment that followed he had time to think. He was not a man given to impulse. Never before had he boon conscious of a feeling stronger than simple admiration for any woman. But for this unconventional, self-willed little country girl he felt something deeper. Just what he scarcely paused to analyze. He was content to wait until time should make him surer. These reflections passed through his mind with the rapidity of light, and the next minute he had joined Mary at the window. “Let us have a light,” he said briskly. “This twilight is melancholy. Do you think I can manage those lamps without blowing up the house?” “I think you had better not try,” answered Mary turning from her contemplation of the landscape outside. “I will light them, if you will close the blinds/ When Mary ran in to kiss her grandfather good-night, she placed her arms about his neck with unusual affection, whispering as she did so: “I pained you to-night, grandpa; I know I did. lam sorry for it. So very sorry. I don’t know why I should have been in such an ill-humor, but I was, and I do find it so hard to feel one way and act another. I intend to do better after this. Indeed I do. Npw, kiss me and say you forgive me.” CHAPTER VII. Meanwhile Jack was wondering what had become of his friends. "Haven’t heard a word from one of them,” he told himself, when nearly three weeks had passed, and even voluble Frank had not sent a line. “I suppose I am entirely forgotton. It is rather trying to one’s vanity to drop out of his friends’ remembrance so soon. I never thought I could be content away from civilization, as it were. If I stay here much longer I’ll begin to like these mid-day dinners and going to bed with the chickens and rising with the same.” Perhaps Jack would have been less surprised regarding his dilatory correspondents had he been able to read the letters Mr. Jack Beverly No. 2 had been receiving, and which puzzled that young man sorely. On the day Jack had especially anathematized his friends, two letters, addressed to Mr. Jack Beverly, reached the Weston postofflee, and were handed to the young gontleman of that name. The first was short and to the point: “Deab Jack: What in the deuce is the matter with you? Why don’t you let us know whether you are dead or alive? Frank’s written and I’ve written, and not a word in answer. “Miss Harly has taken Newport by storm, but sho pines for you, I am told on competent authority. For her sake, if not for ours, let us know if you have succumbed to the stagnating influence of that wretched place. Yours as usual, “Willis.” The second epistle was equally short. “Mr. Jack Beverly: Dear Sir,” It ran, “inclosed please find the little account, which pressure of circumstances forces me to present. I am obliged to meet a heavy note in a few days, otherwise my claim would not be urged. Hoping you appreciate my position, and find it convenient to relieve me, I remain, dear sir, yours very truly, Thomas Bailly.” “The devil,” muttered the young man regarding in some perplexity the letters

he had Just read. “This rather caps the climax. First Willis, whom 1 nover heard of, berating me for not writing to other people I never heard of, and then Thomas Bailly firing his.little account on me. By the way, where is the little account? Ah, this, I suppose.” This was a piece of white paper folded lengthwise, which, when opened, proved to be a bill for sixty dollars, for articles bought by Jack Beverly of Thomas Bailly, tailor. “Well, Mr. Bailly, you have quite an imposing establishment,” mused Beverly, looking at the pictured house at tho head of the bill. “And you writes quite a fine hand. But I’m inclined to think you’ve selected the wrong individual to spring your little joke on. Let me see. One evening suit. Haven’t had a now evening suit in an age. Must really get one this winter. One pair of gray trousers. Never wore gray trousers in my life. I utterly abominate them. A mistake, certainly. The man must be crazy. He’s got my name down fine, though. Where is the addres. Ah! ‘Thomas Bailly, No. —, Broadway, N. Y.’ ’’ “All right, Mr. Thomas Bailly. You’ll hear from me, but not quite as you expect. Without further reflection Beverly drew a small table toward him and in a momen't had written the following: “Mr. Thomas Bailly: Dear Sir—Your note and little account duly to hand. Both surprised me, tho littlo account more especially. I feel obliged to confess that I lmvo not the pleasure of your acquaintance, never had an article of dress out of your establishment, and never, under any provocation, wear gray trousers. “I herewith return you tho aforementioned account; for, while quite sympathizing with you in your present embarrassed condition, I have not yet reached that degree of prosperity which admits of my paying for other people’s clothes. Yours, otc., “Jack Beverly.” “Short, sweet, and, I hope, convincing, ’’ commented Beverly as ho read this effusion. “People talk of the difficulty of writing letters. I never found any. The next thing in order is to mail this, and to do so I must run the gauntlet of those young brats in' tho hall. I wonder what possesses’pcople to have so many children. The law really should fix a limit. lamh df inclined to draw up a bill for Congress to consider.” Two days later another oommu ioation from Mr. Thomas Bailly arrived. “Confound the man,” muttered Beverly, recognizing tho writing. “What under heaven has be to say for himself now?” A glance ait tho written page enlightened him: “Deab Sir. —I am at a loss to understand your action in returning the bill I sent you. It is Impossible that you have forgotten the articles ordered from my house in April last, I once more assure you of my regreat in being obliged to press my claim. But if you still refuse to recognize it, I must tako steps to recover. I await your answer. Yours truly, Thomas Bailly.” “There is but one way to look at this thing,” mused Boverly, tapping his boot thoughtfully. “This fellow is either a lunatic or a scoundrel, more probably the latter. Perhaps he will find this convincing.” This was merely three lines: “Mb. Thomas Bailly —Youarcoither ad— fool or ad— scoundrel. In either case, you and your little account may go to the devil. Jack Bevebly.” “I hope that is the end of it.” TO BE CONTINUED.

Saved by a Picture.

One hot day in June, 1860, a herdsman was driving a lot of cattle to a new ranch near Helena, Texas. It was hot, and he drove part way at night. In passing another herd the cattle became mixed. The next day about noon a dozen or so Texas rangers overtook the herdsman and demanded their cattle, which they said were stolen. They were a lot of men, with long hair, slouch hats, and covered all over with bolts, pistols, bowie-knives. The herdsman was alarmed. It was before the day of law and court-houses in that region, and he knew that he had better shoot five men than kill a mule worth $5. He felt the Responsibility, and offered to explain, but they told him to cut his stor; short. He offered to turn over not his own, but they laughed at that, and said they generally took the whole herd and hung the thief, to serve as a warning to others in like cases. They consulted apart a few moments, and said: “We’ve made up our minds to give you ten minutes to explain yourself; so you can begin.” The poor fellow was completely overcome. He looked at the men, turned pale, and commenced: “How many of you men have wives?” Four or five nodded. “How many have children?” They nodded again. “Then you will know what I mean, and I’ll talk to you. I ne'ver stole any cattle. I came here three years ago. lam froin New Hampshire; I failed there in the panic of ’57. I have been saving; I have paid part of my debts; here are the receipts (and he unfolded a lot of them). My friends live East, for I go from place to place and have no home here. I have lived on hard fare. I have slept out on the ground. I am a hard-looking customer, but this is a hard country; these clothes are rough, but I am honest. Days seem like months to me, and months like years. I expect to sell out and go home in November for Thanksgiving. You know, married men, if it was not for those letters from home (here he pulled out his wife’s letters), I should give up; but I must get out of debt and live some way, men. I can’t say no more, but if you must kill me for what I’m innocent of, send these home. Here ;are the receipts, my wife’s letters; here’s my Testament that my mother gave me; here’s my little girl’s pictture—God bless her! (and he kissed it tenderly). Now, men, send these home—and can’t you send half what the cattle come to? My family will need it much more when I am gone.” “Hold up now! Stop right thar!” said a rough ranger. “Not another word! I say, fellers, such men don’t steal! You can go free. Give us your hand, old boy! That picture an’ them letters did the business. But you’re luck}’, mind ye.” “I’ll do better un that,” said a rough ranger with a bowie-knife in his hand. “I say, boys, iet’s buy his cattle and let him go home now.” They did, and when the money was counted the herdsman was too weak to stand. The sudden change unnerved him completely. An hour later he left on horseback for a near stage-route, and when he left the rangers shook hands with him, cheered, and looked happy.—Our Dumb Animals

LIFE AT THE CAPITAL.

HOW THE PRESIDENT SPENDS SUNDAY. The Church of the Covenant ami 11. Pastor —A Brief Account of IVhat Occupies a Congressman’s Working Hours Some Things His Constituents Desire to Know. Washington Letter.

WASH INGTON correspondence: The President’s church is always the center of attention in Washington Sunday gv •* mornings, and the ||A President at church is the oent r of atH||j> tention within its wa lls. The Prestdent is a regular HHtechurchgoor. By this IfMnt is not meant that >jjßH: ho is every Sunday ESS?in his pew at the ! Church of the CovH®TT)H eluu 't. Sometimes [II I "he goes to other |j b ‘ churches, sometimes he does not

go at all, but as a rulo he Is in his pew before tho organ sounds at the Church of tho Covenant on Sunday mornings. Often the Sunday school children get a glimpse of him just ns the exercises are closing and they are ready to pass out, for the Sunday school sendees are now held in the body of tho church since tho injury to the chapel by fire some weeks ago. The President goes to ohuroh very much as other people do. About 10:15 the carriage from the White House stables puts in an appearance at the entrance of the Executive Mansion, tho door-keeper notifies the President and family that the carriage is ready, and they take their seats behind the pair of spanking bays, with driver and footman sitting high in front, and aro whirled away down Connecticut avenue past tho Russian, Italian and British legations to the door of the church. Tho President and his family always enter at the side door. The main entrance of the church fronts on Connecticut avenue, but the entrance to the chapel is on N street. This is a littlo more retired. There are less gaping crowds and the presidential carriage always turns quietly In on N street and the family utilize this entrance, as indeed, do many other pew holders, whoso seats are well at that end of tho church.

WHERE THE PRESIDENT WORSHIPS.

There Is usually a little crowd of peoplo who know this habit of th > President’s, about the N street entrance when he drives up. They are few, however, and very respectful. Usually the President is accompanied by his wife, sometimes by Mrs. McKee, sometimes by Dr. Scott, the venerable father of Mrs. Harrison — sometimes Dy both. The entrance to the church is usually so quietly made that few peoplo are aware of it until tho family are safely ensconced in their pew. Dr. Hamline, who is tho pastor of tho President’s church, is a comparatively young man, a graduate of one of tho great educational institutions of the country, a close student and a hard worker. His sermons are all ourefully prepared, and delivered from manuscript, but so well delivered that tho listener seldom thinks of tho fact that they are being read. Dr. Hamline does not allow tho fact that ho has a President and many other people of social and official distinction in his congregation to tone down his presentation of gospel truths. The income of tho Church of tho Covenant is a very handsome sum. The pews bring a rental of from $25 to S4O per annum for each person occupying them, and the morning collection runs pretty well up to a SIOO a Sabbath. Dr. Hamline receives a salary of $6,000 a year, and has often been offered more than that to go elsewhere. It is stated that he recently received an offer of $12,000 from a Western city, but preferred to remain in Washington. Ho has also had flattering offers from New York, and has persistently, but gracefully declined anything looking to lake him away from his charge here, to which he is greatly devoted.

A Congressman’* Day. One day taken apart from all the rest In the existence of a Congressman Is not apt to be marked by great adventures or enlivened by an exciting incident. Most days of the average member of tho House are repetitions each of the other. A review of the twenty-four hours made by a member before closing his eyes for a night’s rest puts him to sleep with the thought that the lot of a legislator is not always a happy one, and that statesmanship is the least of things that enter in his day’s toil. Your correspondent asked one of tho oldest members of the House to keep a record for him of one day of Congressional life. This Is it In brief: Eight o’clock, breakfast; 8:30, opened mall and laid aside all newspapers with marked articles for future examination. Head upward of ninety letters on all sorts of subjects, of which the following are -twenty examples: One is from a veteran asking for information about his pension. He gives no postofflce address, and I am oliged to write a letter to the Pension Office to secure his address. Another correspondent wants a number of old volumes of geological survey, which, upon investigation, I find are not to be had. A veteran writes that lie communicated with tho Pension Office December 7, 1891, and got a communication from them nearly a month later which made no reference to his letter. Wants me to go to the office to see if his communication was received. Another letter requires me to go to tho pension office to ascertain what there Is defective in the application of tho writer for a pension. A gentleman from the Agricultural Department requests me to accompany him to my home, whore he is to deliver a lecture to some of my constituents. Another wants the Congressional Record sent to him. An applicant for pension wants to know where his papers are. One of my constituents writes for me to secure him a place in the Government departments. Another wants his pension matters looked up, but does not give the number of his case. Another wants a position in the Government printing office. In another letter the gentleman gives an accountof trouble he Is having over the exaction of duties from him for goods brought to the» cus-

tom house. This requires investigation at tho customs division, Treasury Deportment, and on examination of the low, which shows the duties were prop-' erly collected. The pension office notifies me of the allowance of a pension. The office also wants to know how an applicant for pension in my district spells his name. Another correspond nt wants information as toHhe foreign insurance companies doing business at the national capita,!. A pension applicant wants to know all about the surgical report in tils caso. Another wants me to havo a medical examination as to his condition made at his home, bocauso be is unable to travel. Another letter is on the subjoot of river and harbor improvements. Another gentleman wants me to ascertain what action has been taken in some land ease ho has before the Government. These are examples of requests contained in nearly a hundred letters. Each one requires a reply and most of them Involve writing letters to the departments or making personal visits. Many require long personal examinations of department reoords and an unwinding of lots of red tape. Most of tho matters are such as mqst be looked into before going to the Capitol. After tills I go to the committee work. There is a different committee for every day in the week, with subcommittee work besides, and On Saturday, besides several subcommittees to look after, I havo various departments to visit. At 12o'clock I entered the House, introduced bills, chased around after the Speaker's eye, listened to debates, took part In general legislation, answering letters between times, answered roll calls and received visits from a large number of constituents nqd oilier persons who called mo out by card. Five minutes is allowed for lunch meanwhile, and at ti o’clock I dine. At 7 I again turn to my mail and to the newspapers and to pamphlets and a world of other printed matter. This occupies mo until 11 o’clock, when, foj - the first time during the day, I got a chance for general reading and for Study, which occupies me for an hour or more, until drowsiness compels retirement,. This is the average humdrum day with a Congressman, which is repeated every twenty-four hours, and involves an immense amount of labor without interest.

Earth quake-Proof.

In all countries where earthquakes are of common < c’urronen tho tut of constructing buildings in such it way as to resist the effect of tho shocks has been studied, and, as always happens, experience has proved the best teacher. An extraordinary opportunity to compare the strength of buildings thus made with others built after the ordinary European fashion was furnished by the terrible earthquake in Japan last October. Professor John Milne, one of the foremost authorities on the subject of earthquakes, studied the effects of this great shook, which destroyed over 40,000 houses, and reports that “in many places so-called ‘foreign’ buildings of brick and stone, Undoubtedly put up in tho flimsiest manner, lie as heaps of ruin between Japanese buildings yet standing.” Some of the Japanese castles and temples escaped, though situated within the district where the shock was most destructive. Professor Milne attributes tms-iri the case of the castles to their pyramidal form and to tlie moats that surround them, and in the case of the temples to tho multiplicity < f joints between the roof and the supporting columns, the effect of which was to produce a “bas-ket-ilko yielding” when the temples were shaken by the earthquake, thus preventing tho breaking of the walls. In some of the Western States where tornadoes occur a similar problem is presented, but so far no method of constructing a house that will enable it to resist the tornado's fury has been invented, and the only alternative has been to dig underground chambers near tho houses, Into which families can flee for safety. Probably a Japanese would consider one of our tornadoes as a thing far more to be dreaded than the earthquake of his native country.

New England Hour Hunting.

“Charles Smith, the Jackson bear hunter,” said a trapper, “followed a track through the snow some winters ago and llnally it disappeared In a ledge. He was bound not to give It up that way so he made him a torch, and taking it in one hand and his single-shot rifle in the other, he entered the den. He wasn’t,, long In spotting a pair of eyes in advance of him, and he fired. Retreating until he was satisfied the bear must be dead he i’.gain entered, but there the eyes were, apparently as before. Again he fired and when he next entered the cave he found that he had killed two bears, and both big ones. The most bear I ever got in one day was when I went to visit one of my traps and found an old sne bear in tne trap and two cubs sleeping by her side. In less than three minutes I had three dead bears, and if those two cubs, killed cold, weren’t juicy eating I’ll miss my guess. I got $54 out of that morning’s work. You see it makes quite a difference in the profits of bear hunting whether we kill our game in New Hampshire or Maine. Here the-bounty is only $5, while over the line it is $lO. So, unlike Sawtelle, we are anxious to prove that we do our killing in New Hampshire. For instance, if I trap a bear in Maine, I try to get him across the line before knocking him in the head. One I loaded into a cart and drove up into the dooryard of one of the selectmen of a neighboring town just across the border, and there dispatched my bear and called for and received my order, making $5 in a few hours by so doing.”—Lewiston (Me.) Journal.

Heaths train Hydrophobia.

A notable decrease in the number of deaths from hydrophobia is observed by the Registrar-General of London. The deaths from this disease had been thirty in-1869, and had averaged twenty-four annually, in three years, 187-1888-1889, but there were only eight in 1890 and fewer than in any year since 1868. Col. J. Sumner Rogers, of the Michigan Military Academy, writes from Orchard Lake, Miq£.: “In firing an eight-inch mortar recently we were successful in making an instantaneous photograph of the same, catching the shell about twelve feet from the mouth of the mortar.” The view of the cannon-ball is clear. “JaUey, my son, dake longer stebs unil you von’t voar out your shoes so quick.”

JUST GLANCE OVER THIS

AND ASCERTAIN ALL THE LATE INDIANA NEWS. A Catalogue ol tho Work’* Important Occurrences Xlirougliont tho Mute— Flies, Accident*, trimoi, Suicide*, Lie. A Value b e lie port. The roport of State Statistician Peoile, as far as completed, makes a showing of valuable and entertaining facts and ngitrea. It is shown that tho total of county expenses fur the year ending May 31. 1891, is $6,786,013, a decrease of 5120.066 from tho previous year's exnonsoon this account. Tito counties of the Statu paid out on account of the poor, $882,874. an increase over tho previous year of 8125.898. Tho report being statistical alone, advances no cause for this large increase, amounting to about 20 per cent. The cost of roads was 8104,800, a decrease from tho former year of about $74,000. In the bridge expense account, however, tho amount expended was 8100,000 more than in the previous year. This saeixs to Indicate that the people are beginning to realize that under the present State system, or lack of system, the money expended on the highways Is practically thrown away, while tho linprovements In bridges are of more permanent and enduring character. The following summary contains tho totals of the several items found in the tables for 1891: County officers (except Co. Snp’ta).... $453,939 Orniut iiml petit junus . 321879 Corouoru’ ImjuuiU ‘27,668 Enumerating, and appruUiUK 208,494 Hoad viewing ami surveying 40,458 County tiny u and luhiLuiu* 11t',833 Crlnimain ami prisons 152,988 l’oor farina 804,488 Paid by truatoos on account of p00r... 677 sutl Kouilh mid bigbwuys 104,85.) Htatu liouovoli-nl and reformatory intuitu I lona 79,598 Public bull .inga and repairs 714, o*2 Ditches 148,5,>8 New bridges and repairs 653,U114 Interest on county bonds ‘281,199 Interest on free gravel road bonds..... 702,08-2 Interest on county orders 40,504 Hooks uml slstionery 174,8.41 Priming amt advertl-ing 05,3-25 Redemption of county bonds 849,179 Redemption of free gravel road bon Is,. 481,149 All other expenses (miauelluneous).,., 1,477,141 The amount of bornlod iudebtodnoss paid during tlie year was $349,179. Tho gross debt of the counties, Including bonded and floating, was $5,719,558. The sinking fund amounts to $556,457, and tho free gravel road bonds, $1,'428, - 672. Tho bonded indebtedness of cities as reported by 161 officers of corporations was $8,329,093, and tlie sinking fund $214,665. ,Sixty-live towns reported no bonded Indebtedness. During tho year under consideration, 26,f34 civil cases and 9,226 criminal proceedings occupied ilm attention of tho courts. There were 7,614 Indictments returned. There were 1,899 foreclosures of real estate. The reports oft real estate transfers show an aggregate of 75,510, at a valuation of $70,287,386.

IMnnt in Nl|{iit. If the Postolllcu Building Hill that recently passed the Semite should meet with favorable action In the House quite a number of thriving and prosperous cities in Indiana will bo greatly benefited. Just whoro these buildings would go Is a matter of Interest. The law provides that In all cities where for the past throe iiscal years the gross receipts of tho postodlco has been annually not less than if 3,000 nor more than S'J,OOO the building shall not cost, more than $20,000, tho site Included. Where .the receipts have been more than 90,000 a year and not leas than 900.000 a year for throe years past the building shall cost tn no case more than 975,000, but may equal the aggregate of tho gross receipts for three years, provided the sum bo within this limit. Tho following table gftes the cities In Indiana that can, In tile course of time. If the bill becomes o law, be beneficiaries under It: The gross receipts for tho liscal year ending June 30, 1801, is given, and the census of the city according to the enumeration of 1800: • Gross l’opulaCHlns Receipts. tlon. Anderson 914,723 . 1 ',741 Columbus 11,11:17 (1,711) CoUUorsvlllo tO,Slill 4,MS Craw fords vllls IH.U7G (1,0-0 Kill hart 25,(W1 tl.il'M Frankfort 10,083 5,010 Goshen.. 14.8(58 «,o,'i3 Greencus In 0,'40 4,1i0i) Huntington 10,134 7,HIM Kokomo 1‘2,740 8,201 Lafayette 80.843 t0,‘243 Lupnrte 18,101 7,120 Logansport 17,004 13,1128 Madison 0,581 8,0;l« Marlon 14,188 8,70(1 Michigan l Ity 0,510 10 770 Muucle 15,031 11,340 Peru 10,084 7,02 H Itlcliniond 33,883 10,00 H Hholbyvillo 8,50 1 6,451 South Bend 41,524 21,810 Valparaiso 18,270 5,000 Vlocenneg 12,054 8,833 Wubash 0,178 0,105 The following aro tho smaller towns that would be entitled' to tho twenty-thousand-dollar buildings: Angola. Auburn, Attica, Aurora, Bedford, Bloomington, JtlufTton, Brazil, Columbia City, Danvlljo, Decatur, Delphi, Franklin, Ureensburg, Hammond, .Jeffersonville, Kondaliville, Lagrange, Lawrenceburg, Lebanon, tygonlor, Mlshawakn, Mt. Vernon, New castle, NoblesVllle. North Manchester, Notre Dame, Plymouth, I’ortlahd, Princeton, Rochester, Uushville, Seymour, Hulllvan, Tipton, Union City, Warsaw, Washington, Winchester.

Mas. Eli Jluhiiog of Goshen, fell down stairs and nearly cut her chin otf. It costs SKl, ooo por yerfr for the city of New Albany to keep its streets in repair. Stephen Reese, a carpenter of Terre Haute, fell from a house and was badly hu't. James Long, aged r>B, of Danyille, whflo in a fit, fell into an open tire and was burned to death. The Humane Society of Fort Wayne is after policemen because, ’tls said, they boat drunken men with their clubs. August Wilkes of Michigan City, put his pipe In his coat pocket and then hung the coat on the wall. He is without a coat now. It caught fire from the pipe. Capt. Don Carlos Robinson, aged 76; the veteran boat-builder and founder of the Madison Marine Railway and Shipyard at Madison, in conjunction with Capt. Alexander Temple, died after a lingering illness of several months. Ella Walters, the daughter of William Walters, tno convict serving a twenty-one year sentence at Jeffersonville for killing a man named Sterrett in Jeffersonville, in 1886, is suspected of having killed her mother at West Baden in January. The girl is queer in her head, and receut developments at a hotel where she was employed in Jeffersonville bavo aroused suspicion. A peculiar end came the other day to the Dunlap-Cornealis fight, which took place near Princeton, March 25. It will be j-emcmbered~ that Corncalis struck Dunlap over the head with a heavy club. It was thought Dunlap could not live, but he recovered, and was placed in jail, a raving maniac from the effects of the injury. Cornealis escaped at the time. The other day, while officers wero giving him a chase, he ran on a bridge crossing a stream near town, and was surprised to behold an officer come up from the opposite end of the bridge ready to take him. Cornealis, however, leaped from the bridge into the water and, it is supposed, took a cramp, for he sank before ho could be rescued.

* Munch? colored folks have an art so* ofety. They don’t call it black art, howovor. Adam Wolfe, 84. prominent and wealthy Muucie citizen, died. Leaves $250,00(1 - '' Hugh McGonaglk, old farmer, neat Shoals, run over by heavy farm wagon, and fatally Injured. Edward Aydf.lotte, for many years a resident of Corvdon, died at Chambersburg, Orange County, aged 70 After drilling 1,800 feet for natural gas noar Valparaiso tho well caved Ilf, and tho project was abandoned. George McClouty, notorious negro character, Evansville, Jumped into river to avoid arrest, and was drewnod. Michigan City has been selected as tho new site for the recently burned Lutheran Seminary at Woodvllle, Ohio. Siucki.and’s big glass factory shut down on account of total failure of natural gas supply, and 300 workmen are affected.

When the big religious revival closed nt Salem, 200 converts joined in with the congregation In old-fashioned handshaking. Catherine Mahtz, Richmond domestic, sues Milton Thornburg for $11,648, claiming pay for domestic services for forty-four years. When Ed Flovd discovered thieves in ills store, Middlefork, they fired at him six Times and escaped. None of the bullets struck him. A 3- year-old. child of Charles Hammond, Kokomo, pulled a kettle of scalding hot water on itself from tho stove, and was scalded to death. Charley Robinson, aged 12, attempting to climb on a moving freight train at Liberty, fell under the wheels. His left arm was mashed and had to bo amputated. Townships of Orange County aro to vote upon the question of taxation for tlie Chicago, Indianapolis and Chattanooga Southern railway, which is to run through them, Hattie Kurtz near South Bend balliod the physicians with her illness and her mother called a witch doctor, who drove out tho domons and her daughter Instantly recovered. Chahlf.sMuldoon, ugod about twontynlne. while boat-riding In the Douglas fish pond, seven miles southeast of Edinburg, capsized Ills boat and wus drowned before assistance reached him. Thomas Worth, aged 85, who built Mio llrst two-story house in Plainfield, and at times was editor of two Morgan County papers, died at his home in Plainfield. A new national bank, to bo known as tho White National Bank, with a capital stock of $200,000. has been organized at Fort Wavno. John W. White, eldest sou of ox-Congrossman White, is tho President. It Is stated on good authority that Carnegie, the millionaire Iron-manufac-turer, Is negotiating for the purchase of 1,000 acres or land, between Whiting and Clark, upon which to oroct a mammoth manufacturing concern. The Gorman Baptist Church in Western Delaware County, learning that Mrs. Mary Andamson, ono of Its old members, had been burled at the expense of the county In a suburb of Monclo, Rent a chock for the expenses to tho County Treasurer. Mrs. , Sarah Meyeii was awardod $lB,000 damages at Washington against John Grantor for the murder of her liusbaiul, near Bald Knob, Ark., a year ago. Grantor is a wealthy bachelor of Vincennes. q'lie mnrdorud man, Isadore Moyer, was a New York drummer.' Tho suit was brought for $20,000. ,t '-' 1 At a largely attomiod and enthusiastic meeting of Sion 8. Bliss Post, at Fort Wayne, It was unanimously decided to present tjm name of lion. Chas. A. Zollinger, Mayor of Fort Wayne and formor United States pension agent, to the State Encampment for Depart inpht Comniuudor ot State. A log rolled on Rov. Daulol Dragoo, wliilu working in tho woods, noar Burlington. lie could not release himself, and writing on his note book that he deslrod assistance, gave it to his dog. Tho animal carried tho note to a neighbor’s bouse and In a short time Mr. Dragoo was released. Ito was badly hurt* Louis Faulkknburg has made a confession regard! inOhe lato attempt to Whlto-cftp tho deaf mute, John Underhill, near Branchvllle, in Perry County. Faulkonburg is ono of tho parties who was chopped down by Underhill, and there Is little hope of his rocovery. The confession is said to have revived tho old case in which John Davidson was hanged by a mob. Patents havo boon granted to Indiana inventors as follows: Anthony H. Bryan, Evansville, water-distributing apparatus; James H. Coring, assignor of seven-six-teonths to V. U. Bailey, Marlcn, bag* holdor; John I. Hoke, Houth Bend, cornharvesting machine; Frederick lluenerjarger, Michigan City, plow; Charles N. Loonard, assignor to Drake & Wood Company, Indianapolis, portfolio; John L. Riter, Brownsville, and J. M. Alford, College Ckirnor, Ohio, said Riter assignor to Alford Miliord, tellurian; Winter A. Salisbury, Losantville, car-coupler; Geo. W. Tinsley, Columbus, hose nozzleholder; John E. Williams, Montezuma, tiling. ft The pooplo of Burlington, & small town south of Loaausport, are excited ovor an attempt to demolish Edmondson’s saloon. Before the place closed tho other night, and while a couple of customers were seated at a table, In conversation with the proprietor, James Edmondson, a volley ot stones, was hurled through tho windows, completely riddling tho bar fixtures end smashing tho furniture. The proprietor was dangerously injured by a stone, while the two visitors received ugly wounds. Edmondson has employed council and will suothe parties for damages, as ho claims to know who they are. The trouole is not over as Edmondson is having the place put in shape to open up again, although he was warned not to reopen the saloon. A former saloon-keeper was forced to leave town. Miss Anna Zait of Now Albany, was bitten by a tarantula at a grocery store. Tho Insect was hlddon ln a bunch of bananas. The wound was cauterized at once, and no evil result is fearea. Several Logansport policemen were enjoying the show in the Opera House, when a committee.filed in and informed thorn that a police whistle bad been blowing for some time on the West Side. John Jones, alias William Brown, in a dying condition from a bullet wound received in January, was sentenced to one year in the Southern Prison by the Switzerland County Circuit Court at Vevay. * . ; Dk. J. W. Mahorney of Middletown, who was accidentally- shot by his wife, has since died. They had been married but a short time. A suit for SIO,OOO has been filed at Crawfordsviilc against the Monon Railroad Company by John L. Shrum, administrator of the estate of Madame von Rokey, a ballet dancer, who was bitted tn the wreck near that city on Jan. 11. /Shrum was appointed bv the court, but John R. Courtney has served notice on tho court that he has authority to act in tho capacity of administrator from the heirs of the deceased in Austria, and the court will be compelled |o decide who is now the legal representative of the dead woman.