Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1892 — Page 3

pair of Jacks.

BYLVIV Jamisin

CHAPTER Continued. ’Humph,” commented the bewildered Mrs. Shrimp, “I have my idea of that young man. He’s boginn’ng mighty young, but he’ll end up like John, sure’s my name’s Matilda.” Meanwhile Jack had been literally pulled up the stairs and into Mr. Beverly’s room. “Now,” said the latter, closing the dcor, “are you really Jack Beverly?” “Positively. I wish I was sure of everything as I am of that. ” “Well, then, all I have to remark is that we are a fin# pair of Jacks. I ■dare say it was a fellow feeling that drew me toward you when you came in tonight. I would have offered my room sooner, but my feelings were really so worked upon by the pathetic s'ory of Mr. Miller that speech was impossible. Suppose I bad not spoken at all? This revelation would not have been brought about. I’m beginning to see now. You are me. But who in the devil am I?” Beverly looked so perplexed over this problem that Jack was forced to laugh. “I don’t'believe I put that straight,” remarked the former. “Let me see. I’ll get it right presently. Sit down, and I’ll follow suit. I’m upset, like the worthy John. Now, you are Jack Beverly, and I’m Jack Beverly. That point seems to be firmly established. But somehow we don’t progress. Oh, I have it. You’ve been staying —where?" “South Weston.”

“Precisely. Just the place I started for. It isn’t quite as clear as daylight, but mighty near it. I suppose you have been staying with Mrs. Millard?” “No; Mr. Millard." Beverly jumped up and sat down again. “Just as I said. You are me, and hang me if I don’t believe I’m you. You have a friend Frank and another John, and you' had an idea of marrying Mrs. John, and Miss Harly is pining for you; and you bought an eveninjg suit and a pair of gray trousers from Thomas Bailly, tailor, and haven’t paid for the same?”

These questions were put with a rapidity that was ludicrous, and Jack, slightly unnerved by what he had lately discovered, could only pass his hand over his brow in a perplexed way. “I know the people you mention,” he .answered, “and I have patronized Mr. Bailly, but I ca-n’t understand ” “That’s just it. I’m getting it, however. All that’s clear just yet is that you’ve been visiting my friends and I’ve beeh dancing attendance on yours. Now we’ll go at it again. I’ll tell you a few facts which may help to unravel the tangle. To begin, then, I live in New York, where I practice law. I’m a lone orphan, with no memory of either father or mouier. About three months ago I received a letter from a gentleman signing himself James Millard. According to his statement, he had been a warm friend of my father’s, and, having heard through another friend of my existence, he was anxious to make my acquaintance, and so on. Well, the upshot of it was he invited me visit him at his home in South Weston. I had the name of the place pat enough at the time, but, being a thoughtless fellow, as my friends have often kindly told me, I was scarcely surprised when I met a gentleman on the train who told me Mr. Millard lived in Weston. I naturally thought I had made the mistake, and there I was. I confess I found my welcome much less cordial than I«expected, and I have been rather surprised at Mr. Millard’s silence regarding my father and our letters. Lately I have suspected something, but for certain reasons I did not feel anxious to investigate. That’s my side of the story. Yours, I know, will enlighten us ■still further.”

Jack looked his thorough bewilderment, and it was some seconds before he could gather his thoughts. “Well,” he said at last;” how plain it all seems now. You see, I left New York with the intention of vacating for a month or so. One of my friends suggested Weston as a delightful place to rusticate. He had some friends there, he told me, and he would write to them immediately. He assured me I would like them, and that they would make my visit pleasant. “Under the circumstances I set out for Weston, but through inattention when the station was called I left the train at South Weston. Imagine my surprise upon finding Mr. Millard’s carriage waiting for me. I could not understand it, and I could only conclude that Frank’s letter had brought about this unexpected welcome. I confess I have been surprised at a number of things, but I usually found, or thought I found, a reasonable explanation.” “It is curious, to say the least,” re-

marked Beverly. “I don’t regret the mistake, however. I have had some fault-finding letters, and been threatened with a lawsuit, but J forgive all, as, I don’t mind telling you, I have found the happiness of my life.” Jack sighed. “Why that sigh?” inquired Beverly, slapping him on the shoulder. “It strikes me you are rather down in the mouth. Now I am a thoroughly jolly fellow. I can’t stand the ‘blues’ in my presence. Out with the trouble if you have any.” Jack was about to sigh again, when his face suddenly brightened. “Tell me,” he said eagerly, “is your engagement known here?" “My dear fellow, Weston is a village. Need I say more? My affairs are probably canvassed from one end of the town to the other. I don’t say this is the result of greatness. It is merely a nat "What’s the matter now?”

Beverly broke off - thus abruptly as Jack, rising hurriedly from his chair, began to pace the floor. ’ ■' “It is possible,” was the answer, as Jack came to a standstill in the center ■of the room, “it is very possible that you have done me a great injury.” “That sounds ominous,” was the grave reply. “Under the circumstances there is nothing for you to do but to tell me the whole story. There is a story, I see. I hope you are mistaken as to my agency.” “I may be,” replied Jack, leaning against the window frame, “but in my present condition, I am glad to grasp the least straw of hope. The simple fact is, that I, like you, came to a little village to find the woman I would make my wife. Until to-day I cherished a possible realization of my hopes, but now ” “Wait one moment. Does she know •of your feelings?” “Yes, two days ago I asked her to be my wife.” “Well?” “Her answer was all that I could wish. At that time her heart was mine. Her lips, as well as her eyes, confessed it.

To-day I returned from a short visit to New York, to find a note, in which, without further explanation, she denounced my conducted, and hoped in the bitterest terms, that I would never bring myself into her presence again. After her attitude of two days before, I was staggered. ” “Did you allow it to stop there?” “No, I forced myself upon her, and demanded an explanation. ■ Her answer was: ‘Ask your conscience.’ I tried to see her again, and failed. Now you have heard all. Perhaps you will give me the benefit of your opinion. For myself, I am too utterly miserable to think. Can you see the drift of my suspicions?” “ Clearly—Miss ” “Millard.” “Ah, you don’t say. Well, Miss Millard has heard of my engagement, and imagines you to be the recreant. Perfectly natural, my dear fellow.” “Natural!” echoed Jack. “Good heavens! What do you think it means for me?” “I know what it means for me,” was the imperturbable answer. “It means a trip to South Weston, and a call upon Mr. and Miss Millard. I’ll inform the old gentleman that I am the sen of his old friend, etc., etc. See! It will all come right, and we’ll both be benedicts before we are a year older.” Jack looked slightly dubious, but he tried to emulate his companion’s sanguine spirits. After more conversation, during which the young men became like old friends, Beverly proposed lhat they should turn in, cautioning Jack, however, to move with as little force as possible in bed, as he had not yet tested the full strength of that article of furniture.

CHAPTER XL Mary was lying in her hammock the next morning, when a shadow fell across the porch, and, starting up with a hasty exclamation, she found herself face to face with a young man. “I beg your pardon,” he said in a pleasant voice; “I fear I startled you. ” “Only very slightly,” she returned, trying to regain her self-possession. “Do you wish to see grandpa?” “If grandpa is Mr. Miliard, that is my wish.” “He is Mr. Millard. Walk in, please. I will tell him.” Opening the door, she led the way to the parlor. “Will you give me your name, please?” There was a second’s hesitation on the young man’s part. Then in a peculiar voice he answered, "Beverly.’’ Her face changed visibly, and a low exclamation escaped her. “Did you say Beverly?” she asked, ! with a disturbed air. “Yes, miss. Jack Beverly.” Without a word Mary stepped out of the room, repeating the words: “Jack Beverly. His name is Jack Beverly.” “Grandpa, his name is Jack Beverly.” “What, my dear?” questioned Mr. Millard, with decided surprise, as Mary came upon him -with this announcement. “A gentleman who wishes to see you, grandpa, and ” “A strange gentleman, Mary?” “Yes, a strange gentleman, and his name is Jack Bev ” “So you have said, my dear. You are very nervous, Mary. What is it, my child?”“I am afraid to think,” she answered, as he laid his hand upon her head. “There are a thousand questions in my mind now. I—l cannot dare to answer them. You had better go, grandpa. He is waiting.” “It is strange,” she heard him murmur, as he left the room. “It is more than strange," she repeated, throwing herself on a chair and leaning her head upon the desk. She was in this position a half hour later, when her grandfather returned. “There has been a very curious mistake,” he said as Mary looked up questioningly. “The Mr. Beverly I have just been talking with is the son of my old friend. He has been staying with another Mr. Millard, whom he has been taking for me, and ” “How did he discover all this?” “He has seen Jack,.'and they have been comparing notes. Each has found out that the other has made a similar mistake. ” “Where is he?" “Gone to look about the village. I have in ”

“I don’t mean this Mr. Beverly,” interrupted Mary with a quick frown. “Oh, Jack. He is in South Weston." “Did Ja —the other Mr. Beverly know this one was coming here?” “Really, I did not ask, ,my dear; though it is very likely.” “You said you invited him to dinner, did you not? I must let Jeannette know. ” A minute later, she entered the kitchen, with the abrupt announcement: “Jeannette, Mr. Beverly will be here to dinner.” Jeannette dropped the potato she was peeling. “You don’t mean ” she exclaimed. "Nd, I don’t mean that one,'’ returned Mary, with a gulp in her throat. “This is quite another one entirely.” “Another one!” repeated the surprised Jeannette. “Mercy, save us. There ain’t another one of them Mr. Beverlys a-coming. ” “Another one of them Mr. Beverlys, Jeannette? What a peculiar expression. I only know there’s a man coming to dinner named Beverly— and—and that’s all I want to know. ” And fearing a further exhibition of feeling, Mary rushed from the room. “Queer,” commented Jeannette, apostrophizing the potatoes. “I wonder how this one’ll turn cut?” Bererly returned shortly before dinner, and Mary followed her grandfather to the parlor. . She did not feel in humor for conversation. So she contented herself with quietly observing their visitor, conscious that he. in his turn, was likewise observing her. “Miss Millard,”he said at last, so suddenly as to almost make her start, “I have been telling your grandfather what a beautiful place Weston is. ’ I dare say, however, you are mpre familiar with its charms, as no doubt you go there quite frequently.” “I haven’t lately,” she responded. “That is, not until the other day. I—l went there then.”

“Ah!” he questioned, observing her nervous manner. “I dare say you have friends there?” “Only one very humble one—Mrs. Thomson. You know her—that is, you have spoken to her, maybe. She told me about Weston and about ” She paused in helple'ss embarrassment. “I suppose I’m making a fool of. myself.” was her inward comment, “but I cannot help it. I’ll die if I don't know. I shall have to ask him outright presently. Why won’t he say something? How can grandpa sit here and talk so coolly of other things? If I only had a chance?” She made her own chance after dinner. She was sitting alone with Beverly, her grandfather having left them, to find a book from which he had been quoting, when, without apparent reason, she dropped the subject they had been discussing, and, turning" to him, asked, with noticeable eagerness:

“Do you know Miss Ellie? You have been staying in South Weston,” she went on in explanation of her question, “and I dare say you have met her." “I have," he answered,” with a peculiar gleam in his eye.„ "Sheis Mr. Millard’s —my Mr. Miliard,” he added, with a laugh—“stepdaughter. Therefore, I have had unusual opportunities to cultivate her acquaintance. We are, I am happy to say, very excellent friends.” “And more,” added Mary, in a low voice. “I—l beg your pardon. I thought so.” With which ambiguous remark Mary gave him a questioning glance, and, reading her answer in his face, left her chair with the abrupt words: ' “Grandpa is coming. Please excuse me.” “Going, Mary?” asked Mr. Millard, meeting her at the door. “Please don’t speak to me," she cried, darting by him. The old gentleman looked surprised. Turning to Beverly he said, in some anxiety: "Pray excuse me a moment, sir. My granddaughter does not seem well.” In her own room he found Mary on her knees, and her face buried in the bed. Lifting her with gentle hand, he drew her toward him. “Since when have I lost the right to your confidence,” he asked, stroking her hair with a caressing i touch. “You have something to tell me, dearest.”

Mary buried her face on his breast with the passionate cry: “It is no use to hide it, grandpa. I cannot hide it from myself. I have ruined my own happiness. Three days ago,” she continued, with a half sob, “I was as happy as it is possible for anyone to be, and now ” Well?” he interrupted, with a gentle intonation, as seating himself in a chair, he drew her to his knee. “Tell me all that has happened since, Mary.” Then in a low and self-reprpachful voice, Mary repeated all that had passed between Jack and herself from the moment he had asked her to be his wife to the time he left Robin’s Rest. “It was a hard thing to believe of him, a very hard thing," was Mr. Millard’s answer, when Mary finished her recital. “Yet I must confess, you had great reason. If you had told me this before, we might have discover d the true state of affairs without all this heartache. I believe I should have had better faith in him.” “That is hard on me, grandpa. You cannot think of my feelings when you say it, I could not look at it coolly, or stop to consider a possible mistake. I felt myself wronged and outraged. I thought he had made a sport of my affections. For I had confessed my love for him. I had allowed him to kiss me, and, grandpa, it was humiliating, so bitterly humiliating, to remember that.” Mary covered her face with her hands as she uttered these words. “I understand that, Mary,” said her grandfather, kindly. “I don’t think you can quite understand, grandpa. No man could. And you don’t know how hard it was for me to believe him guilty. My whole heart rebelled against it. But what could I think?” “You could have told me, Mary.” She sighed “I don’t think I wanted even you to knowhow weak and foolish I had been; and I was afraid you might think I cared more than I did. Of course, while I believed what I did, I hated him.” “Of course, my dear,” was the quiet answer. “Now I hate myself for having been unjust. Still, I had rather a thousand times suffer through my own injustice than through his dishonor. Don’t scold mo any more, grandpa. I’ve been punished enough.” “My dearest,” he cried, pressing her to his heart. "I only wish to help you.” “It is too late for that." “No,” was the decisive answer. “You must not allow pride to interfere with the reparation you owe Jack, and the duty you owe yourself. This misunderstanding has not changed your feelings for him?” Her face drooped. “He cannot have forgotten what I said to him,” she replied in a low voice. “He may even have grown to hate me. I can’t ask him to come back to me, Grandpa; I can’t ask him to do that, I’d die first.” Mr. Millard regarded the unmanageable Mary with a slightly perplexed air. “You will tell him you misgudged him, Mary? That is simply justice you know.” “How am I to do it?” she asked, | anxiously. “If I should write it I should make a fool of myself, I know, and if ” “Let me write it. my dear; you can trust me.” “I am not so sure, still you may write. Don’t say too much. Tell him I misjudged him in a very grave particular, and that I am sorry, and—Oh, grandpa, you know how to express it. But please i don’t make it seem that I am so anxious, I should die of shame." “I will take care of your dignity,” he returned, with a smile. |TO BE CONTINUED. I

The Effect of Tight Boots.

This is what a physician says about tight boots and shoes: “It is impossible to stand or breathe aright if the feet are pinched. When correct posture and "breathing are Interfered with, the circulation is impeded, rnd deleterious substances in the blood tend to make the complexion bad. This is one of the many evils of tight shoes. To be well shod has a marked influence on style. The feet symbolize the body in their way as much as the hands. A clever shoemaker says that in a well-fitting shoe the human foot feels like a duck’s foot in the mud; it is held firmly in place, but nowhere compressed. Nothing can exceed the vulgarity and hygienic wickedness of a shoe that is manifestly too tight. For misery-pro-ducing power*, hj’gienically as well as spiritually speaking, perhaps tight boots are without a rival.” Here, again, we learn on high authority how important a factor in human existence and human happiness is the foot-gear of mankind. Some one may say, “We breathe with our lungs and not with our feet.” That may be, but I have myself observed how tight boots control the breathing arrangements of men and women. Instead of drawing a full breath with expanded chest, the sufferer walks humped-back, and gasps at every step, “Ah!” “Oh!” “Ugh!” etc. I don't know about the blood making the .complexion bad, but the pain of the toe makes the face long and painfully serious. Then on the spiritual aspect of the question the doctor is also right, for it is hardly conceivable that tight boots can tend to spirituality, whether in or out of church. I commend tl e extract quoted to bootmakers to VUt in their window as a reason why the public should only -buy their own particular good-fltt?ng boots as tending to physical, moral, spiritual and eternal welfare. Bui you must use your own discretion as to the inelegant metaphor of tie duck’s foot in the mud.

HERE’S ALL THE NEWS

TO BE FOUND IN THE STATE OF INDIANA. Giving a Dntallmi Account of tbn Numerous Crimes, CasmUties, Fires, Suicides, Deatlu, Etc., Etc. Indiana ’ airs. In the appended list of fairs all dates are inclusive, and the name at the end of each announcement is that of the secretary: Acton District—Aug. 30 to Sept. 2, T. M. Richardson. North Salem—North Kale n, Hendricks Conuty, Aug. 1 to 5, L. C. Moore. Heury, Madison nud Delawure—Middletown, Heury Conntv Aug. 2 to 5. P. H. Hodson. Bridgeton Union-Bridgeton, Park County, Aug. 8 to IJ-, T. L. Nevens. New Boss—New Ross, Montgomery County, Aug. 8 to 12, T. F. Houk. Oakland City—Oakland City, Gibson County, Aug 22 to 27, Z. T. Emerson Wayne, Henry and II nuolph—Dalton, Wayne County. Amr. 23 to 20, J. E. Dennis. Knightstown—Knightstown. Henry County, Aug. 30 to Sept. 3, L. P Newby, Switzerland and Ohio—East Enterprize, Switzerland County, Aug. 30 to Sep., W. H. Madison, Benton and Warren—Boswell,Benton County, Sept. 5 to 9. G. W. Cones. Kentland Agricultural—Kentland. Newton County, Sept. 0 to 8, W. T. Dr ke, Grange Jubilee—Wirt Station, .'offerson County, Sept. 6 to'.l, T. H. Wallington. W arren Tri-County—Warren, Huntington County, Sept. 6 to 10, A. Foust, Auburn District—Auburn. DeKalb County, Sept, 12 to 10, t. Hussolman. Fairmount—!■ airmount, Grant County. Sept. 12tolo, J. D. Lathan. Francisville—i rancisvills, Pulaski County, Sept. 13 to Hi, E. H. Applegate. Maxlukuckee—Culver l ark, Marshall County, Sept. 13 to 16, L. C. Zechiel. North Indiana and South Michigan—South Pend, St, Joseph County, Sept, 12 to 16, u. G. Towle. W ashingtou and Parke— Pek n. Washington County, Sept. 20 to 23, J. W. Elrod. Bremen Agricultural—Bremen, Sept. 27 to 30, H. H. Miller. Eastern Indiana—Kendallville, Noble County, Sept 26 to 3j, J. 8. Coulogue. Poplar Grove—Poplar Grove, Howard County, Sept. 26 to 30, 11. T. Barbour. Tri-County North Manchester, Wabash County, Sept. 21 to 30. D. W. KrUher. Bourbon—bourbon, Marshall County, Oct. 11 to 14, tt. D. Ettinger. Northern Indiana -Goshen, Elkhart County, Oct. 3 to 7, T. A. Starr, Northern Indiana aud Southern Michigan Exhibition Association Warsaw, Kosciusko County, Oct. 4,5, 6, end 7, M. A. Wilcox,

COUTY FAIRS. Tipton—Tipton. Aug. 8 to 13, W. R. Cglebay. Jennings—North Vernon. Aug. 9to 12, W.G. Norris, Henry—New Castle. Aug. 9 to 13, 0. L. Jeffries. Boon—Lebanon, Aug. 15 to 19, L. F. Moler. Delaware—Muncie, Aug. 15 to 19, |M. S. Claypool. Jefferson—Madison, Aug. 16 to 19, S. E. Haigh. Wayuo-Hagorstown, Aug. 16 to 19, Ed Bowman. Hancock—Greenfield, Alig. 22 to 26, Elbert Tvner. Clinton—Frankfort, Aug 22 to 26. J. Hoavllon. Dearborn—Lawrenceburg, Aug. 23 to 27, J. S. Dorman. W ashington—Salem, Aug. 23 to 20, E. W. Mvnaugh. Vigo—Terre Haute, Aug 22t0 20, Charles C. Oakley. Felton—Rochester, Aug. 31 to . opt. 3, W. W. Loomis. Green—Linton, Aug. 29 to Sept. 2, J. H. Humphreys. Harrison—Corydon, Aug. 29 to Sept. 2, T. S. Get.zandanner. Putnam—Bainbridge, Aug. 29 to tept. 3, A. R. Allison. ’ llaidolph—Winchester, Aug. 3j to Sept. 3, B. F. Boltz. Scott—Scottsburg, Aug. 30 to Sept. 2, W. L. Morrison. Tippe.anoe—Lafayette, Sept. 1 to 3, Adam V. alluco. Carroll—Camden, Sept. 5 to 9, Ziba A. Brown Clark—Charlestown, feept. 5 to 8, J. M. McMillin. Montgomery—Crawfordsville. Sept. 5 to 9, W. W. Morgan. Sullivan —Sullivan, Sept. 5 to 10, J. M, Lang. Gibson—Pr nceton, Sept 5 told, S. Vet. Strain Sholby-jJihelby ville, Sept. 6 to 10, E. E. Stroiip.'af Miami—Macy, Sept. 7 to 10, Iraß. Hurst. Posey—New Harmony, Sept. 12 to 16, W. W. Robb. Greene—Bloomfield, Sept. 12 to 17, R. F. Burrell. Huntington—Huntington, Sept. 13 to 17, H. M. Purviance. Johnson—Franklin, Sept. 13 to 17, William S. Young. Rush—Rushville, Sept. 13 to 17, Charles F. Kennedy. Miami- Peru, Sept. 13 to 10, Fred Conradt. Marshall—Plymouth, hept. 20 to 23, D. L. Dickinson. Noble—Ligonier, Sept. 19 to 22, J. E. McDonald. Porter—Valparaiso, Sept. 20 to 23, E. S. Beach. Wabash —Wabash, Sept. 20 to 24, Geo. B. Fawley. Sponcer—Rockport, Sept 19 to 24, A. B. Garllnghouse. Daviess —Washington, Sept. 19 to 24, W. F. AxtellPulaski- Winainac, Sept. 27 to 30, Jesse Taylor. Grant—Marion, Sept. 27 to 30, L. F. Carmichael. Jay—Portland, Sept. 27 to3o, Geo. W. Bergman. Lake—CrownPoint, Sept. 27 to 30, B. Woods. Monroe—Bloomington, Sept. 20 to Oct. 1, Goo. P. Campbell. Perry—Rome, Oct. 3 to 8, W. Wheeler. Vermillion— Newport, Oct 3t07, L. Shepard. Wabash—Wabash, Sept. 20 to 24, Geo. B.iFawWhitley—Columbia City, Oct. 4to 7, L. Richard. Lawrence—Bedford, Oct, 4 to 8, F. Stannard. Knox—Vincennes, Oct. 10 to 15, J. W. Emison.

Crows are becoming thick in Southern Indiana. A skeleton was foil nd in a cellar of an old building which was being torn down in Franklin. Mbs. Mary A. Spears of Seymour wants 85,000 from Aaron E. Lloyd for breach of promise. A boy poured a can of coal oil in a stove In Columbus. The stove went through the roof. Boy not yet found. Knife from planing-machine flew off, in Plainfield, and struck Henry Moon in the forehead, cutting through the skull. Ho will die. Allen Skinner, a saloonkeeper of Marlon, admitted fishing with a net and was fined 850. Also August De Pair fined for same thing. “White Caps” took J. H. Haggard, an old soldier, out ot his house, near Martinsville, and were getting ready to whip him when- they were frightened away. The First National Bank. Laporte, and the Citizens’ and First National of Michigan City, the B. & B. and C. & E. 1. railroads have combined against the new tax law and refused to pay taxes in Laporte County. J. H. Rudicil, a young schoolteacher of Morgan County, who accepted a position last fall as teacher in Hopkins University, ‘ Oakland, Cal., has been forced to resign because of ill health, and has returned to Martinsville. The residence of Rev. Allla of Stringtown, Clay County, was destroyed by fire. Dr. Homer J. Hall of Franklin, was driving across a bridge over a swollen stream, when the structure gave way, precipitating him and his outfit to the water. He received painful injuries before he could reach the shore. Harry Blue of the Vandalia road, the most popular switchman in Terre Haute, was instantly killed by falling between freight cars. His death is a particularly sad one, as be had just prepared a home for bis bride, whom he was to have wedded next week. Several cases of scarlet fever at Michigan City. At Hazleton, three little brothers, sons of William Decker, were playing on the E. &T. H. tracks. They agreed to see which could get on the track first after a train passed. The youngest, who was 5 years old. was struck on the head by the caboose steps and killed. The clothing of a little child of Findley Lynn, who resides three miles from Seymour, caught tire from a pile ot hot ashes. Its screams brought Mr. Lynn to the rescue, but the child was so bauly burned that it died. Mr. Lynn’s hands were also badly burned in putting out the fire.

A new gas well has been struck.neai Farmland. The recent fire in Edinbnrg caused a loss of $25,000. Michaels, Grant County, has e* last secured a postoffice. Numerous kinds of swindlers are again working the people in the country. . Mrs. Fred Feller has mysteriously disappeared from her homo in Wabash. Michigan City people will vote to see whether they want water works or not. Marion Williams of Anderson, has a mare that gave birth to triplets one day last week. Henry Ford, colored, supposed to be 100 years old, died at the Floyd County Poor Asylum. Frank Wenzler k.st all his fingers and thumb on his righthand in a sawing machine at New Albany. Frank Johnson, a Fort Wayne lumberman, was faially crushed while rolling logs on the Maumee. John Frash of Huntington, believes lie is heir to a fifty-two-mlllion-dollar estate in Germany. A farmer near Denver dreamed he found a pot of gold. He dug his farm up, but didn’t find it. Mrs. Nancy A. Green isthoonly revolutionary pensioner in Indiana. She lives at Napoleon, Ripley County. Excitement in Carroll County grows over tiie discovery of zinc mines. Three shafts have already been put down. Kokomo is building a $20,000 schoolhouse, the second one erected in a year, to meet the growing demands of the city. William Heath, white, cut Abe Peele’s left cheek off with a razor, in Muncie. They quarreled over a woman. Experts have pronounced the bed of limestone, near New Ross, Montgomery County, to ho as fine as found anywhere else in Indiana. Rorert Neal, bank boss at one of the Brazil Block-eoa' Company’s mines, together witli another miner, was Instantly killed bv falling slate, People at South Bend are complaining about the hoodlums who gather about the theater of evenings where temperance lectures are held. Mrs. L. M. Ei.se y died at her homo In Posey Township, Clay County, aged 82. Mrs. ElSey was the first woman teacher that was given a school in Clay County.

Edwin V. Johnson of Seymour, a graduate of Annapolis, has been made a lieutenant in the United States Revenue Marine Service, being assigned to Lake Michigan. While Ed Jacoby was out driving at Thorntown with Mollie Scott, someone fired into tho buggy. The bullet struck the girl, but hit a Steel in her corset, saving her life. The old “Governor’s mansion” in Cory don, which was occupied by the first Governor of Indiana, is being torn down. The building is a two-story brick and is now the property of Dr. A. E. L. Smith. Allan Vaught, r youth residing near Solon, in Clark County, while playing in his father’s barn, fell to his ground, a distance of fifteen feet, striking on his head and causing almost instant death. As executors of the vast estate of Adam Wolfe, Jason Wilson, of Marlon, and Mayor Arthur W. Brady of Muncie, gave the largest bond over filed in Delaware County. The amount being $600,000. Claude Matthews, a fireman on the Suburban train between Jeffersonville and New Albany, while getting off of his engine slipped and fell. Tho engine ran over his log, cutting off his right foot above the ankle. Ho will probably die. Earl K. Glass, Assistant City Engineer of Richmond, was found in his room recently, dead of apoplexy. He was 28 years old, and a leader in young people's religious circles. His remains will bo shipped to his homo at Knightstown, where his parents reside. The determination of the congregation of the Evangelical Church at Brazil to hold Sunday-school In spite of minister Winters, who refused to give up tho key to tho church, caused something of a sensation. Tho members of thochurch broke in and had services, held a song and prayer-meeting in the evening, while the minister remained at home, refusing to come and preach to ills flock. There is trouble betwreen Mr. Winters and tho congregation over the famous DubbsBowman case, the minister having expelled the entire church, recently. The members bought a new lock, and now the minister is locked out. Tho preacher will resort to the courts.

When the farm bell rang for supper at the home of Irvine Love, four miles east of Marion, the other night, Orville, the 15-year-old son, did not respond. The father called for the boy, who was finishing his evening work, and, receiving no answer, started in search of the tardy one. He found him lying on the ground in the barn-yard. He was unconscious and was bleeding from a wound In the head. They took him to the house, but the skull was crushed so as to lay bare the brains, and he died in thirty minutes. There were no witnesses to the accident, and how the boy was struck will probably never be known. It is supposed, however, that the colt which he had been w atering struck him with its fore-foot.

The Western Improvement Company is now building a line hotel on its land near Yorktown, its dimensions being 100 feet long by sixty wide, and three stories high. The new fiouring-mill, of 200 barrels capacity, at the head of the lake, has already been commenced. The aluminium works, from Bucyrus, 0., are now at Yorktown, awaiting switching f acilities which are being putin by the Big Four, that the machinery may be unl<.ded from the cars, and the building of the furnaces commenced. The brass and novelty works wi'l be opened out with a full force of hands next week. The Yorktown brick factories are to furnish material for these buildings, which, with those yet to to be erected In the near future, will create a big demand for laborers. A car-load of carpenters had to be sent for last week. Elmer Willard, desperado and highwayman, badly wanted in Logansport, was located at a farm house. The police and detective force attempted to capture him when he escaped under a hot tire. Fourth-class postmasters have been appointed for Indiana as follows: Corkwell, Jay County, R. Landis, vice H. L. Robbins, resigned; Fargo, Orange County, I. S. Pittman, vice G. P. Bonwasser, resigned: Ijamsvillo. Wabash County, G. H. Eckman, vice E. T. Green, resigned; Mi ill In, Crawford County, E. A. Senn, vice J. W. Senn, resigned; Saluda, Jefferson County, L. C. Talbott, vice J. G. Marling, resigned. Thaddeub Hays, an 11-year-old boy, had his right arm cutoff at the shoulder by a train be was attempting to board at Richmond. This family seems to be a very unlucky one. Two years ago another son was killed by the cars, and, three years ago the father became insane, afterwards dying in the asylum. Footy Egan and James Ellis, each over 60 years old, “fell' out” at Scot Hedrick’s stable, in Marengo, over the size of a jack, which Egan claimed was sixteen feet high. “Sixteen hands you mean.” said Ellis, at which Egan grew angry, threw a pitch fork and struck Ellis in the neck. A fist and skull fight ensued and Ellis is badly Injured.

TA-RA-RA BOOM DE-AY.

THAT IS HOW THE BALL SEASON OPENED. Oponlns of the Leagns Championship Season at St. Louis —New York, Boston and Pittsburg Among the Victors—Unusually Large Attendance. Chicago Beata St. Louis,

THE base-ball season of 1892 opened In St. Louis with the rattle of drums, K the boom of fl re - works, the plunking sound of two-base hits, and a general z hurrah all a r o u n d. The town was up early to see the race begin, even If It didn’t J'- begin until afternoon, and the excitement of the opening game • \precluded with hundreds of the cranks

any thought of business or anything else. Of course tho St. Louis people thought it necessary to begin proceedings with a grand parade. The season could not properly be started without one. It came off in tho morning, Just after 11 o’clock, anti attracted as much attention as the biggest circus that ever struck tho town. In the afternoon the' teams drove out to tho grounds. Anson’s men paraded first, thou camo tho Browns. When Anson and Glasscock pressed their palms together the German band played “Comrades,’' sky rockets tore through the sky, bombs shrieked, fire-crackers sputtered and, to crown it all, Umpire Sheridan at 3:30 shouted in his foghorn voice, “Play ball," and they played. Chicago outplayed St. Louis in every point, despite tho contradictory talo told by the error column. To the door of Captain Glasscock himself may be, laid much of tho blame of St. Louis’ poor showing, as his errors were disastrous, while he batted weakly. Anson’s team had the game well in hand after tho first inning, and to this fact may bo attributed several of the runs which St. Louis secured. Chicago's batting was hard, that of Dahlen being remarkable. He

THE SEASON OF ENED.

was given five chances, ami every time but one he drove the ball on a line into tho outfield, getting It into Carroll's hands In tho third Inning. IMingun also batted hard and flqlded nicely. Gumbort pitched until ho was hurt by a batted ball, and then Hutchison went In, Tho latter was very careless and heedlessly lot St Louis get four or five runs. Tho attendance was 9,700, tho largest In many years. This was due, apparently, not so much to interest In the local club as to enthusiasm caused by tho advent of tho St. Louis olub Into the National League. The record of the St. Louis disaster gives Chicago, 14; St. Louis, 10.

O'lier League G»m»n.

The base-ball ehumpionshlp season whs formally opened at Philadelphia, but, owing to the cold weather ana the increased price in the admission, the attendance was less than half that on similar occasions In former years. The game was, on the whole, well played, but Hallman’s errors at second were sufficient to turn defeat Into victory for New York. New York, 5; Philadelphia, 4. * At Cincinnati the weather was cool. Pittsburg did good batting at the right time, while Mark Baldwin was wonderfully, effective against the Reds, although ho was a trifle wild at times. Result: Pittsburg, 7; Cincinnati, 5. Over 6,400 people witnessed the game between Washington and Boston at Washington. The latter had Clarkson and Kelly, and this famous battery did excellent work. The weather was clear and raw. Boston look the lend at the start and gained an easy victory. Boston, 14; Washington, 4. The initial game in Baltimore of the base-ball season resulted in a bad defeat for the Baltimore club, the score being 13 to 3in favor of the Brooklyns. The victory was won by timely hitting and through the errors of the home team. The opening of the base-ball season of 1892 was made a gala day in Louisville. Both t< ams parade d the streets in carriages before the opening of the game. There were 5,900 people present, and every good play was warmly cheered. The Clevelands took the lead in the first Inning and held it to the fourth, when the home team enme to the front and was never headed. Score: Louisville, 5; Cleveland, 2. Remarkable Attendance. The attendance at the six opening games of the National League was as follows: WEST. KACT. St. Louis 8,15 j Fhllndelphla4,7oo Louiivlhe.... 5,»i0 v*aibington 8,450 Cincinnati 7.000 Baltimore 5,329 T0ta121,(50 T0ta118,479 Grand t0ta137,529

REVOLUTION IN BRAZIL.

The Slate of Malto-GroaHo Ilan Declared It* Independence. Rio Janeiro is in a state of siege. A number of prominent military and naval officers have been placed under arrest for having participated in a groat public manifestation in favor of ex-President Fonseca. The prisoners will be tried by a council of war. There is a revolution in the state of Matto-Grosso. The Legislature has proclaimed the state's independence of the republic. The river is obstructed by hulks. Col. Barbosa is in charge of the rebels. The new Governor, Eubank, who was prevented from landing from the steamer which took him to Matto-Grosso from Rio Janeiro, was fired upon from the fort. He is now on the Paraguay side of the river.

The Yale Ruffians.

The Yale students who snowballed actresses should know that this is not the way to purify the stage.—Boston Record. Yale students, should be more careful. It Is rude, whsn throwing snowballs , from the parquet on the stage, to use missiles so large as to knock down an actress. —Milwaukee Sentinel.

BABY M’KEE’S GOAT.

SAID TO BE A VICIOUS THOROUGHBRED. The President’ll Grandson Expresses • Longing Desire for a Little Red Wagon and an Animal of the Goat Kind—Senatorial Fighters. Another Resignation Rumor.

WASHINGTON correspond - ence: Another resignation rumorls abroad this time which seems to be founded upon fact. Kw. It does not involve either Mr. Blaine or the President, but instead a member of the official family whose f u n ct i ons. I ornamental, are quite indismrrrtrTTjn- pensable to the .■u,.—- President. This sif]rlltlme Is th o PresiII J 1 1 dent’s squint-eyed II 11 * coachman, "Willis,”

and it was all brought about because of a Harlem goat which Baby McKee acquired recently. A week ago Baby McKee suddenly formed an idea that he wanted to drive out on his own account, and concluded that a bearded goat and a red waeon would bo about the proper soit of turnout. When he suggested the scheme to his illustrious gi uiiufather, the latter vetoed it, but there went up such a wail at once that Baby McKee —who, by the way, is an infant industry old enough to be spunked Instead of encourag d—was g.venhlsway, and one of the liverlei servants of the executive mansion was sent out into tho hedges ami the highways, commissioned to a< quire a sadeyed William goat with unimpaired digestion, a creditable Imperial, and which would drive well hitched to a red wagon. Such a goat was found to bo a commodity only in tho Harlem market, and one was bought and Installed, a day or so ago, in the Presidential stable at the dictation of the grandson. It Is believed that th, purchase of the goat in New Yoik was a shrewd political move to strong!hi n tho administration. It Is said on the authority of a gentleman who is quite id ar to the Administration —being a doorkeeper—that tho purchase of tho gout was Hibcusbi d in a Cabinet meeting: Secretary Tracy proposed a Brooklyn goat and said that very vivacious and Intelligent goats nbouuded in Brooklyn. I’ost‘mast >y-Genenrt Wunaniaker proposed an Angora goat. I’nisidt nt Harrison objected that it would be unpattriotlc to Import a foreign goat. All the members of tho cabinet then agreed that It would excite the antagonism of the goat industry of tho United States to bring a goat from abroaif. Secretary Rusk, speaking for the Agricultural Department, thought It would bo wise to get a goat with long whiskers, like Senator Peffer’s. Secretary of War Elkins

BABY M'KÈ AND HIS GOAT

proposed tq buy a goat in Harlem, which ho said would strengthen the Harlem Republican Club and make the administration popular in Now York City. Tho president and a’l the members of tho Cabinet indorsed Secretary Elkins* ideas. A confidential agent of the administration was sent to Harlem, and he bought a promising goat of the owner of a goat farm on the rocks north of Central Park

It happened that when the goat arrived "Willis," the coachman, had taken the President’s Cleveland bays and gone out for a drive. By an inadvertence of one of the servants the goat was not assigned to any particular suite in the presidential stables, but allowed to ramble around at his own sweet will and feed on lap-robes, harness and other luxuries- which had been denied him in Harlem. When "Willis" returned and opened the barn door the William goat resented his appearance. He bleated loudly, stood on his head once or twice and prepared to greet the coachman. When the greeting was over “Willis" was worse for the wear. By the aid of one of hie staff ho managed finally to lock the goat in an empty stall, and next proceeded to take an inventory of the supplies of the stable. He found two or three boxes of axle grease grfpe, the harness chewed up in a frightful manner, and an old mackerel kit, in which he hod a stock of lins cd oil, had been drained of its contents and upset. “Willis” instituted an inquiry at once to learn how the goat happened to be 'installed in the barn, and when he learned the true cause he went into a case of sulks and hasn’t got over it yet. "Willis” has submitted an ultimatum customary with high officials when they threaten to resign, that the President must cither accept the resignation of his hated rival, the William goat, or the coachman’s.

Senatorial Fighters. The Northwest has two Senatorial fighters. These are men whose Hv<»e have been spent in the wildest parts of the frontier and who have grown strong with fighting among the Indians and the desperadoes. I refer to Senator George Shoup of Idaho and Senator Wilbur F. Sanders of Montana. Shoup Is a tall, straight, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed man. There Is no hair on the top of his head and he has not even a scalp lock. He lost his hair naturally, however, and he has had a number of scrapes where he might have lost It to the Indians. Born in the East, he started out for Pike’s Peak when he was 22 yeais old, and during the war he was one of the independent scoyts of the Colorado volunteers. A large part of his career during the war was as a scout, and he has known well the Indians and desperadoes of the West. .He is now at the head of the Indian Affairs Committee, and he has been Governor of Idaho and left the executive chair to take his seat in the Senate. Senator Sanders is noted as having rid Montana of the noted gang of ruffians which overran the Northwest some years ago. He was at the head o’ the vigilants and has a number of times looked death in the face. He has made many a speech in his State with his pistol in his pocket, and while he was speak ng pistols have come out before his eyes in the hands of his audience. During the rebellion he was in the army as a soldier from Ohio, aad it was through fail ng health that he had to resign end go West. In the camp where he settled there was a band of Southern sympathizers, and these undertook to haul down the stars and stripes from the flagpole in the public square with the idea of raising the stars and bars. As they caught hold of the rope Sanders, who was standing near by, pulled out a revolver and said to them: “No one shall haul that flag down while I live." The mob looked at the flag and then at the revolver and into the eyes of the determined young man who held it, anJ they decided to let the flag stand.