Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 April 1893 — Page 3

In Sheep's Clothing

BY Caplormond Steele

CHAPTER XlV—Continued. Alter this long and apparently satisfactory conversation between Captain Fox and his lieutenant, they went on deck, where they found the rudder in good working order, and the men lounging about the hot decks, while the officers smoked, and wondered among themselves what this conduct on the part of “the skipper” meant. The men and officers of the Wanderer had so much confidence in the foresight and daring of their leader, that they but seldom talked among themselves as to the nature of any move that Fox did not explain in advance. So far, he had done by them exactly as he had promised, and they had every reason to believe that their good luck, and the captain’s good management, would continue for manya’day to come. There was not a man on the ship, from Don, the cabin boy, to tho captain, with the one exception of Balph Denham, now incapable of reasoning, that ever thought that the Wanderer was bound for New York when she left Sag Harbor. The men did not know where they were going, nor did they particularly care, so that they were on the move with some object to gain, or, in lieu of that, of danger in view. With the exception of Frenauld, the officers were nearly as coarse and brutal-looking as the men, but they ' fully appreciated the value of good conduct on shore, and of silence, or reticence, when those qualities were found necessary, to hide the defects of their early training. Three times, during the afternoon, Fox and Frenauld visited the little gem of a cabin in which Ralph Denham lay, still unconscious. Once they administered to him a small glass of wine, with a few drops of the green, sweet, soporific drug in it, and one drop of a colorless fluid which Frenauld declared was sufficient to destroy the will-power of a giant for four-and-twenty hours. A few hours after dark the captain’s gig wa3 lowered, and into it got Frenauld and three men, all carrying their arms and considerable bundles. The rowers and the officer in command followed, the hooks were slipped out, and. at a low command from the officer in the stern sheets, the oars dropped into place, caught the water like one blade, and the gig sped away for the cliffs, beneath which a lire had been burning for some time. Frenauld and his men landed near the fire, where they found an old Indian, sent there by Uncas, awaiting them.

The gig returned at once to the ship, anchor was weighed, and the Wanderer stood out to sea, but she did not sail in the direction of the port of New York. Frenauld did not at all relish the mission on which he was sent, but he came in obedience to an order that he could not disobey if he woul<j. When delivered, this order met his warm approval, for he had great faith in his captain, whose unapproachably brilliant talents as a villain won his esteem, and at times excited his envy. But when Frenauld, eltting by the shore, saw through the darkness, like a vanishing star, the ship’s lights dropping down the horizon’s rim, his spirits also fell. Bidding the sailors spread their blankets and go to sleep, Frenauld lit a cigar, and handing the old Indian another, he invited him to draw up to the fire. The Indian oould not speak very good English; but as he succeeded in making himself clearly understood, we shall not attempt to reproduce his dialect, or rather his broken speech. Lighting his cigar, the Indian, who said his name was “Old Somonk,” squattei on his haunches, and' across the little fire, whose flickering flames threw unequal lights on their faces, they stared at each other. “Uncas sent you here,” said Frenauld, more for the sake of talking than with any hope of getting desirable information.

“Ugh, Uncas,” replied Old Somonk, and he seemed to blow the words with a jet of smoke from his puckered lips §1 the direction of the young officer. “Uncas is a great chlof.” “Ugh; Uncas big sachem,” grunted Old Somonk. “Got a wife?” “No; no wife.” "Why doesn’t a fine-looking man like Uncas get a wife?” • “Don’t know; mebbe don’t want one.” “Ah, like enough. Strange that that hadn’t struck me as a possible reason before,” said Frenauld, taking an unusually long pull at his cigar, and coming to the conclusion that Old Somonk was not as much of a fool after all. “When is Uncas to come here?” asked Frenauld, looking up at the black sky as he asked the question, as If it were quite possible for the answer to come from that quarter. “One sun more, to-morrow." “Whatare we to do in the meantime?" Old Somonk slightly elevated his shoulders, but his face gave not the slightest sign of interest as he grunted: “Don’; know/’ • “That is very consoling. Of course you know the country hereabouts very well?” “Born here," was the reply, with a preliminary grunt. “Looks as if he might have been born before there was any such place as this," said Frenauld, sotto voce; then aloud, “you are going to remain with us until Uncas comes. ” “I? no, no,” said Old Somonk, with decided emphasis. “The old Harry! then how long will you stay?” “When young Somonk, my son, be come, then I go home to squaw." “And so this old mummy, with a skin like a pump tongue, has got a wife and a son. The squaws imitate their white sisters in having strange tastes," muttered Frenauld; then aloud, “and your son will remain with us until Uncas comes?” “Don’t know.” “For a man of your years your information is about as limited as* that of any one I ever met ” “You give my son paper you get from chief big canoe; my son, young Somonk, he take paper to Uncas. Paper talk. Uncas he come. Then make ready for him —Balph Den’m.” “I see a glimmer of truth has flashed upon your mist enveloped understanding. ” Old Somonk did not understand this, but he clearly comprehended when Frenauld added: “Uncas does not like Balph Denham.” *“Oh. no—no.”

‘Why?” “Wy? ’cause he love wite squaw; daughter medicine man Hedges. “Tersely and clearly stated. Of course all the Indians like their chief?" “Oh, yes.” “Do whatever he says?” “Oh, yes, mebbe." “Some doubt about that, eh? Well. Mr. Old Somonk, one more question; can we sleep here without waton; is it sate?” “Safe?” “I so asked.” ‘lt is safe all time in land of Montauk for friend of Montauk. ” “From whioh I am to infer that It would be anything but safe for the foes of the Montauks to Intrude here. Well, I am a warm friend of the Montauks. ” “Oh, yes,” from Old Somonk. with something like sarcasm in the tones, though his sphinx-like face looked as impassive a 3 ever. Satisfied that it was safe to lie down, and confident that*he could not continue the conversation with Old Somonk, with any chance of getting information or learning that in which he was interested, Frenauld spread a blanket on the ground, and went to sleep. He did not wake up till daylight, and the first object that met his eyes was Old Somonk seated in the same place and in the same position, the only change noticeable about him being that he was now smoking a corn-cob pipe instead of a cigar. With that aptitude which distinguishes alike the trained soldier and seaman, the three sailors from the Wanderer set about getting breakfast for themselves and the Lieutenant.. Old Somonk, with a degree of curiosity that is not generally thought to distinguish his race, watched these operations till the meal was ready, when, without being invited, he came over and began helping himself, in the coolest possible way. At first this caused the Lieutenant and his men much merriment, but wholly indifferent to their laughter Old Somonk paid the strictest possible attention to the business on hand. And as he threatened to devour all the cooked food, if the others did not hurry up, all pitched in in self-defense, and ate with a speed that emulated but oould not equal that of the Indian. During the day Fernauld and his men made an examination of the coast, in which work they were facilitated by the use of a canoe, which Old Somonk drew out from a cavern, made in the rocks by the long-continued action of wind and waves. Fernauld carefully took note of the bearings of this cave, which had a small entrance that could easily be closed up, while the inside space was ample to hold all the wealth of silver, gold, and precious stones that had ever been floated on the sea. Back from the beach there were scattering groves set, as if by the hand of a landscape gardener who studied the ways of nature, and undulating lawns or meadows in which pastured the herds of the Montauks.

In the afternoon they followed the example of Old Somonk, and lay down in the shade, where, the sea breeze lanning their faces, they soon sank to sleep. They would have slept on into the night had they not been aroused by the talking of two men. One was Old Somonk and the olher his son. Before Fernauld could say a word, Old Somonk said, pointing to the Indan youth, with whom he had been talking: ■■ “Ifhis is my son, young Somonk. He comes from Uncas; you talk.” And, having uttered these words with astonishing rapidity, he turned to the west and ian with a speed that was wonderful for him, and would have been remarkable even in his son. “Your venerable sire,” said Frenauld, looking after theflying Montauk, “is the most eccentric gentleman, white or red, that it has ever been my privilege to encounter.” With much dignity the young Indian cut him short by saying: “I have come from my chief, Uncas of the Montauks." “Ah, so I supposed, and ” “Have you a message, a paper for me?” broke in Somonk. “I have; but are you not manifesting undue haste?” For reply Somonk extended his hand, and kept it so until Frenauld had deposited therein the expected paper. Then, to the unutterable amazement of the sailors, Somonk closed his hand on the paper and darted off with a speed that promised soon to place him far In advance of his fugitive father. “Well, may Satan fly away with me, if they are not the most extraordinary sire and scion that ever crossed my course! I wonder if the old woman has the same restlessness on foot and placidity—sitting down?” The sailors answered this with a loud laugh, and at once began preparations for supper. Though affecting great lightness of manner, Frenauld was not at all satisfied with the situation. “What if the Montauk chief did not keep his part of the contract? What, if the Wanderer were lost, or sank, or by any other chance did not return, was to become of Frenauld and his three companions? He thought these questions over and over, even while he was eating his supper, and he had not reached a satisfactory answer, when he heard the snaoping of a dry twig near by, and looking up, he saw before him the towering form of the Montauk chief.

The appearance of Uncas, though not unexpected, was so sudden as to startle Frenauld and set his heert to beating faster. After the usual salutations had passed, the chief accepted Frenauid’s invitation to join him at supper, and while they were eating, he said: “I would have seen you before, but that I met the old white chief, Col. Graham.” “What, hasn’t he gone back to New York?” asked the astonished Frenauld. “No; he has been sick.” u And where is he now?” “He is in my lodge?” “ Y’our lodge?” in my house with his black servant. ’ “In the name of all that is not sacred, how did he come to get there?” “He wanted change, expressed a wish to know more about the Montauks, and I, as their chief, became his guide," said Uncas, with much dignity. “But his presence will ruin our plans.” “ I cannot see how that will be. ” “Simply this, that Col. Graham supposes that Balph Denham is now at the bottom of the sea, as he deserves to be, were it not that Capt Fm, who is your great, true friend, and knows how much you dislike your rival, wanted to leave him in your hands for a certain time, when, according to the agreement, you would be free to do as you pleased with him,” said Frenauld. “I know all that,” replied the chief, “and you can have but little faith in my wisdom if you think I told Col. Graham anything of my plans, nor have I told any one else, excepting young Somonk and his father. ” “Ah, that was the very sublimity of

prudence,” said Frenauld, smiling and rubbing his hands, then asking in a pleased way: “Have you thought of the place where you are to keep Denham?" “I have.” “Do you objeot to telling?" ‘No; it is in a cavern down there by the shore, a plaoe of whioh nearly all our people have a great dread.” As this spot had been appropriated in Frenauld’s mina for another purpose, he asked, hurriedly: “Couldn’t you get another place away from the water —it is dangerous to have a sailor near the water, if you are at all anxious to keep him.” I could; there is even a better hiding plaoe in the hills, but even Ido not tare to go there in the dark.” “What is it like?” asked Frenauld. “It is the burial place of our ohiefs, replied Uncas. |TO BE CONTINUED. J

It Was a Moving Spectacle.

In a Sixth avenue elevated train the other day, says the New York Sun, in one of the cross seats, sat a tired, fret-ful-looking woman in a black alpaca gown. Her lap was full of bundles. Her mouth was drawn in such a peculiar way that it was evident that she was suffering. A-restless way she had of moving her feet about attracted attention to them. She had on a pair of new shoes, and it was not hard to guess that they were the cause of her suffering. When the train pulled out of the Twenty-second street station she looked all around, and then, with an expression of firm determination she stooped over and unbuttoned her shoes. She straightened herself up and smoothed down her skirts, and whon she gave a long sigh of relief it was plain that she had taken off the shoes. The pained expression in her face gradually faded before an expression of content and even happiness. At Fifty-ninth street and Eighth aVenue she leaned over with a Bort of groan, and, reaching under her skirts, began to put the shoes on again. But the more she tugged the more obstinate the sho -s got. As the streets went by she got more and more excited. The shoes refused to go on. Her feet had swollen, and now the shoes were several sizes too small for her. At last she made no concealment of her efforts, but boldly sawed and jerked at the shoe. Just as the guard yelled “Sixty-sixth,” one shoe went on and the woman groaned out a very queer little word from between her clinched teeth. She gathered up her other shoe and her bundles and rushed from the car. Limping with both feet—one foot shod and one covered only with a stocking—she marched along the platform, down the steps, and up the boulevard. One leg Was shorter than the other. Everybody was looking at her feet to see the cause and her face was something to see.

Curing the Rheumatism.

“Talk about sick men in a hotel," said Ed Frey, a veteran hotel clerk, who is stopping at the Southern. “Let me tell you of an experience we had with a fellow not long ago. He came to the house all right, but no took a heavy cold, and it seemed to go into a sort of rheumatism and settled in his shoulders. The poor fellow suffered awfully, and couldn’t lift his hands to save his life. He sent for a doctor, and, of course, got a prescription which didn’t do him a particle of good. One of the bell boys heard that witch-hazel was a good thing, and, seeing a bottle of it in one of the rooms, brought it in to the sick man. The fellow was glad enough to try anything, and the bell boy rubbed him with it manfully. About two hours after the rubbing the sick man felt the thing begin to burn, and word soon came to the office that he felt as if he were all afire. I went up and found him in awful pain. I asked him the cause of it, and ho pointed to the witchhazel bottle. I looked at it and found that it was an old bottle filled with furniture polish. There was a state of things. Finally the fellow, in his pain, commenced to jump about the room, and as he did so he would throw his arms over hls head. In about an hour’s time tho burning stopped and his rheumatism was gone. He had a few blisters to take care of, but he was so glad to get the use of his arms that he never made a kick. Funny cure, wasn’t it?”—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

A Pigeon with a Memory.

It seems really impossible to extinguish the homing instinct in a good pigeon. A wonderful story is told by a pigeon fancying journal of a French carrier pigeon which was captured by the 1 German soldiers during the siege of Paris in 1870. The bird was being carried in a balloon from Paris to some point In the country whence it was expected to return to Paris with a message. It was taken tj the German headquarters and presented to the commander, Prince Frederick Charles, who sent it to his mother in Germany. Here it was placed in a splendid roomy avairy and carefully fed and nourished; but although it was kept here, living in Ihe lap of royal luxury for four years, the French pigeon did not forget its fatherland. - At the end of that time the aviary was left open one day. The pigeon flew out, mounted high In the air, flew about for a moment, as if to find the points of the compass, and started in a straight line for Paris. Two days afterward it beat its wings against the entrance to its old loft in the Boulevard de Clichy. There it was recognized, and its case being brought to public attention it was honored as a patriot returned from foreign captivity. It remained at the Paris Jardin d’Acclimatation until it died in 1878.

A Child’s Version.

The idea presented to a child’s mind by a word which he thinks he under- ; stands, though its meaning has never 1 been explained to him, is often quite 1 foreign to anything which the dictionary has to offer. “ ‘The wind bloweth where it listeth,’ ” read the Sunday-school teacher to her class of little girls. “Do any es you know what ‘listeth’ means?" The children, with one exception, shook their heads. The exception was an 8-year-old, flaxen-haired girl, who after a moment’s reflection said, eagerly , “I know!” “You may tell us, then," said the teacher, encouragingly. “I’m afraid,” said the little girl, in a dubious tone, “that I can’t make the rest of them understand,, for they haven’t any grandpas in the country, same as I have. But there’s always a strip on the bottom of frontdoors in the country that grandpa told me was ‘list;’ and If you could just feel the wind blow in under that door once," said the child in a tone of conviction, addressing the rest of the class, “you’d know what ! that verse meant in a minute!”

Good for Them.

There are now living within a radius of ten miles of Ashland, lie., eight American women who are the mothers of 102 children, eighty or whom are living in the enjoyment of good health and sound minds. I FiiiA.it Coxecte was accustomed at the close of his sermons to take a staff and go through his congregation battering to pieces any head-dress that eame under his displeasure.

DOMESTIC ECONOMY.

TOPICS OF INTEREST TO THE FARMER AND HOUSEWIFE. Few Crops That Pay Better Than Pota-toes-Dairy Cows Should IJe Liberally Fed A Straw-Staek Stable Caro of Trees—Motes About the Farm. Mineral Manure* lor Potatoes. There are but few largely grown crops which pay better when successfully grown than do potatoes. The crop requires a good deal of labor, and It must therefore have rich laud. But if stable manure is use l a; make the laud rich its fermentation in the soil increases the bacteria which pioduces the rot If the season he at all wet. In a very dry season the manure does noo rot. and by drying up under the furrow it often injures rather than helps the crop. Potatoes aro so largely composed of water that no manure should be used in growing them that can tend to make the land dryer. It is desirable to have tho soil as mellow as it can be got This a-clover sod Insures. Any further fertilizing that is needed may be given with commercial manures, especially those rich in potash and nitrogen. It is a crop that needs comparatively little phosphate. Probably the best compound for growing large potato crops is a mixture o. nitrates with wood ashes, or if ashes cannot bo easily obtained, with potash salts. Manured thus, the crop grows vigorously, and Its foliage keeps a dark, healthy green, which it could not do if stimulated by fermenting manure. The potato crop needs cool and moist ground. Mineral fertilizers tend to keep soil both moist and cool.

Although the phosphate itself is not largely used in the composition of the potato, the making of superphosphate requires the use of sulphuric acid or oil of vitrol. This is a powerful germicide or destroyer of the bacteria which causes fungus, blight, and rot Hence some portion of phosphoric acid should be in all potato manures. The potato manures that are made especially for this crop are, we believe, better adapted to potatoes than are any other, and their use will allow the application of stable manure to crops on which it will probably pay better. This subject of adapting manures to the crops to which they will do most good is one of great importance. It is a matter on which there is great need of thought, and which needs also not less the tests of practical experience.—American Cultivator. Liberal Feeding. There seems to be a strange lunacy in the minds of a great many farmers in regard to feeding cows liberally, says Hoard’s Dairyman. As a square proposition no dairyman can afford to let a herd of good cows get in a low condition. He not only robs himself of a chance for present gain but ho seriously cripples his future. It is just this constant tendency to hold a penny so close to the eye that a golden eagle cannot be seen on the other side of it, that cuts the sand from under the feet of the average dairyman. If we look around we can see everywhere evidence enough to satisfy a reasonable man as to the best policy to pursue. In all places it is the liberal feeder who makes the most money. His skeptical neighbor will say: “I can’t see how ho does it; he pays so much for feed.” Nevertheless, he does it. There has not been a day the past year that feed has been so high but what a dairyman with a qow that would yield three-fourths to a pound of butter a day, could richly afford to give her all she could economically consume. The trouble with the men who talk differently is that not one In a thousand has any figures to show for their belief. They have nothing but mere guesswork to stand on.

Care of Trees, A correspondent in Meehan’s Monthly Inquires whether branches which are now too low for convenience will get higher in time when the trunk of the tree lengthens. ‘‘lt is a general impression among those not familiar with botanical gardening that the trunks of trees lengthen, but this is not the case; the trunk of a tree, being once formed, does not lengthen a fraction, no matter if it lives to a hundred years, A branch from a trunk that is now, say six feet from the ground, will have the center of that branch still six feet from the ground, no matter how many years elapse. If branches are, therefore, now too low, they had better be cut off at once. Again, it is worth remembering in cutting off branches that they should always be cut close to the trunk or to any main branch, so that the wound may heal over. If the branch is very large, so that the wound is likely to take several years to heal over, it is better to paint it, in order to keep the water from rotting the wood until it is properly healed. More good trees are spoiled through leaving an inch or two of stump to a cut off branch than people have any idea of.” Marketing Fuilltlles. The value of land for farming purposes must always depend largely on its nearness to market The increase of railraids has brought for the staple grain products Western farms as near to market as are the best located Eastern farms. Not nearly so much progress has been made in Improving country roads as there should be. The necessity for good roads becomes more pressing as farming is intensified, growing each year larger products per acre than were once thought possible. The American Cultivator thinks a market gardener or small fruit grower cannot Well afford to be more than three or four miles from his market, nor that unless he has good roads at all seasons. A piece of bad road, especially if it be a hill, lessens the value of land lying farther away, and the better the land the greater will be the clif- ' Terence in price. It is this that makes it so difficult to improve some land. Hoads are so poor or the distance from its market is so great that after it is marie capable of greater productiveness its marketing facilities will not warrant pushing it for all that it might be made to produce. A Straw-Stack Stable. In grain-growinz localities the cheapest and moss comfortable stable

for stock is made by ouildlng the straw-stack at the threshing time oa a platform supported by posts standing about 10 icet above the barnyard leveL The posts may be made lower if it is calculated to throw out the manure. Left to run ovef it at will, cattle, horses, and sheep will trample down a good deal of straw, which, with their droppings, will make an excellent manure. The trampling will keep it from heating to any great extent, and the liquid excrement will also be saved. When thrown out in spring the manure will accumulate to I a depth ot three or four feet The ; stable straw-stack may be indefinitely | extended by putting other posts near ; the stack, and covering with straw I the spaces between thorn. No man I who has plenty of straw need let ‘ cattle suffer from cold. Exclude the | outside cold, and the internal heat i from breathing and irom food will keep animals warm. '--'TV—- ' Repairing Hotted Posts. We never saw the expedient used | except by a careful, old-fashioned i farmer who was used when his grape j trellis posts rotted off to <Jlg down into the eartft to where the post was still solid, and then cut the post half into a foot or fifteen inches below the ground, and then fasten to this half an upright post of the height desired. If the post below was mostly rottecj ! off, ho used to reverse the post, putting the top side In the ground aud then mortice to it abp.ve (be surface. In this way he made oach post do double duty. The rotting off of posts is almost always Just at the surface, and by putting bolts through each half, and thus fastening them together, the end will last as long as did the original posts at the surface. —Exchange.

The Horse. Horses like skimmed milk and it does them good, If you breed a 2-year-old mare give her a rest the next year. Familiarity with objects is the only remedy tor shying by a horse. Straw’ will do for horse food, but it Is constipating. Look out for it Give the horses a few potatoes frequently; It will help rid them of worms. Never be satisfied with your horses if their coats stare and they appear dull. It is better to give stallions regular, but not hard work to develop vitality and energy. Professor Sanborn's experiments “seem to show that a rather large ration of grain for work horses Is an economical one.” Have soft, good-fitting harness. Be firm but kind in your treatment and the horse will become attached to you and do good service. Point. About Poultry. “Luck” in the poultry yard Is a rarity—it needs another letter, for it is “p-luck” that wins. The editor of Farm-Poultry says, “I don’t care a picayune for ‘points' if my fowls will only lay eggs.” Never be in a hurry to get young chickens to go upon the roost; let them make a sufficient growth to lly well. Meal, bran, and potatoes or turboiled anditnashed injabout equal proport ions makes a good feed for breeding ducks.

Separated and raised by themsolvcß pullets will be worth more for use than it allowed to run with tho cockerels. Ducks confined to yards will lay more eggs, and there will bo better fertility, than when they have an unlimited range. As ducks do not roost it Is not necessary to have high houses, yet at the same time If they are too low they will be inconvenient to clean. If you are keeping poultry.for profit, try and matjago them so as to have eggs to sell when prices are highest. This is usually during late summer and during the first and middle of the winter. Do not worry your brains about crosses for eggs. It is simply Impossible to get better layers than the heavy-laying purebreds. Cross breed ing is only intended for an Improvement in flesh producing qualities, and quick maturity. It is said by some writers that soft feed is one of the causes ot Infertile eggs. The writer has always fed a morning mash, and always felt proud of the fertility of the eggs from his stock. Most of the writers at the present day are working out thorles.

Mificellaiieoug Heel pen. Egg Drink. —One quart of cold water, a cupful of sugar, an egg, a teaspoonful of tartaric acid. Beat the egg to a froth, beat m the sugar, add tne other ingredients, stir wel‘ and drink at once. . Spiced Currants. —Use four pounds of sugar to seven pounds of currants, one teaspoon of cinnamon, one of cloves, one of allspice; boil half an hour, stirring enough to prevent burning. Especially nice with meat Cream Candy. —Two cups of sugar, a cup of water, a tablespoonful of cream of tartar. Boil without stirring until it will harden in water like spun glass. Add a small piece of butter, and work in a little vanilla as you Dull it. Nut Candy. —Two cups New Orleans molasses, three-fourths cup of sugar; boil until it will harden quickly in water. Add a piece of butter and a coffee cup of walnut meat just before taking from the Are. Four in shallow pans and check off with a knife. Plain Cakmels. —One pound of brown sugar, a quarter of a pound of chocolate, one pint of cream, one teaspoonful of butter, two tablespoonfuls of molasses. Boil for thirty minutes, stirring all the time; test bv dropping into cold water. Flavor with vanilla and mark off in a pan. Currant Jelly’. —Stem ripe currants, scald them in a porcelain kettle, do not let boil; strain through a coarse jelly bag and then through a flannel bag: allow a pound of sugar to a pint of juice. When the juice has boiled fifteen minutes, add the heated sugar and cook five mibutes longer. Take from the Are. let cool slightly, pour in glasses and set aside until col«

TEMPLE OF MORMON.

DEDICATION OF THE FAMOUS SALT LAKE STRUCTURE. On. of the Mott Remarkable and Elaborate Cathedral. In the World—lt. Wondrous Beauties of White and Gold—Vast Dimensions. After Forty Years. The great Mormon Temple, the Temple of which was begun Feb. (5.

1853, and erected at a oust of $5,000,000, was dedicated Thursday In the presence of a vast throng of : believers at Salt Lake iCity, Utah. Mormons from every olty and to wn in U tah swarmed into the city and the vast edifice was sur-

mtIOHAM young.

rounded by a great multitude. The temple Itself was crowded almost to suffocation and It was estimated that between 60,000 and 70,000 people entered tho building before the services ended. The Temple Is the overtowering object which strikes the eye of the traveler as he enters the Salt Lako Valley. The first idea gained on beholding It is that of an enormous castle of feudal times, and its mammoth proportions and the solidity of the great blocks of stone suggest that It will last as long as any of the grandest architectural achievements of antiquity. On a nearer approach the effeot of the battlements, which give the idea of a oastle, disappear, and the tall spires and numerous narrow windows, with tho figure of the angel surmounting the highest steeple, suggest a cathedral of magnificent dimensions. It was on the 24th of July, 1847, that tho Mormons entered the valley ot the Great Salt Lake and decided that here was their resting place, the promised land for whloh they had been In search. Four days aftorward, In making a survey of the thon sagebrush covered plain, Brighum Young, their leader, struck his cane on tho ground at a point midway between two running streams and exolalmod: "Hore shall be ereoted the temple of our God." Six years later the oorner stone of the present structure was laid. It was forty years to tho day, almost to the hour, since the oeremony of laying tho four corner-stones was celebrated In an Imposing manner by Brigham Young and all tho ohlef dignitaries of the church living at that time. On April 6, 1853, the immense excavation

TUB H 5.000.00) MORMON TKMIM.S.

having boen previously completed, all the bands and oholrs In the city wore called out and the entire population of the olty, numborlng thon about five thousand, assembled on the Temple blook. Tho southeast corner-stone was first laid. Since that time the work of building the Templo has boen prosecuted In the face of enormous difficulties. For the first twenty years the work proceeded very slowly, all the stone having to be conveyed from tho quarry by means of ox teams, six or eight animals usually being employod to transport a single rook from the quarry to the Temple Blook and four days being required to make the trip. When Johnstone’s army invaded Utah In 1857 the walls of the Tomple, which had then reached a level with the ground, were hastily covered over with earth, and the Mormons fled frotn tho city, abandoning It to the array. Astor Johnstone retired the walls were uncovered again and work was resumed where it was loft off. At the completion of the Union Pacific Railway a track was laid to the quarry, and from that time forward the work was pushed with great vigor, so that although It Is forty years since the building was commenced, not more than twenty-five have actually been expended In Its construction. Like the Jews of old, the building of temples has always held a cardinal place In the faith es the Mormons. Tho Salt Lake Temple Is the sixth building of tho kind they have completed and the seventh they have begun. The first was commenced at Independence, Mo., In 1831, and dedicated by Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonlsm, but was abandoned shortly afterward owing to mob violence. The second was built In Klrtland, Ohio, in 1833, and completed in 1836. When the Mormons left Ohio the building passed into the hands of the Josepbltes, tho anti-polygamy faction of tho church, who still hold It The third temple was built in Nauvoo, 111., In 1841, and finished In 1846, but was destroyed by fire In 1848, and razed to the ground when Nauvoo was sacked by the opponents of the Mormons. The other temples are located In St. George, Utah, built from 1873 to 1877; In Logan, Utah, built from 1877 to 1884; and In Mantl, Utah, built from 1879 to 1888. The cost of all its predecessors combined, however, does not amount to more than one-half of the money expended in the construction of the Salt Lake edifice. Some of the main dimensions of the building are as follows: Its whole length, Including towers, Is 1864 feet its width Is 99 feet; the three towers on tho east rise to a height of 2224 feet In the center and 188 feet on the sides. The three west towers are from 3 to 10 feet shorter. The height of the walls to tho top of the rook work is 1674 feet The thickness of the walls at the bottom is 9 feet and at the top 6 feet. The thickness of the footing wall Is 16 feet, and the whole building covers an area of 21,850 square feet. Each corner tower has a staircase of solid granite, cut by hand, of over two hundred steps. The building has Its own electric plant, heating apparatus, coolthg machines, power for elevators, etc., and the spectacle at night, when all the pinnacles as well as the crown ot the angel’s figure on the central tower are Illuminated with electricity, Is strlcking and brillant in the extreme. Everywhere throughout the building the prevailing style Is solidity, richness ani symmetry. White and gold are the prevailing colors, though the ceilings show some rare decorative work. Several years ago the Mormon church sent several artists to Paris to study painting and art decoration for the purpose of having them paint the ceilings and the rooms in which the most secret ordinances are celebrated, one of which Is said to be a representation of the Garden of Eden, and It Is described as a marvel of beatity by those who have beheld 1L

Three Children Cremated.

At Cummlng, Ga., three small children of J. Nance were burned to death while their parents were at a neighbor’s visiting. The house caught fire and ths children burned to a crisp before they could be rescued. It is not known what started the fire.

THESE ACTUAL FACTS

ALL FOUND WITHIN THE BORDERS OF INDIANA. An ißtarMtlng Summary of the Mar• Important Dolnga of Oar Neighbors'-* Crimea, Caeualtlee, Death!, Etc. Indiana Fairs. The following Is a list, with datos, of the various fairs of Indiana: Aug. 7to 12—Bridgeton Union Agricultural Society ; Bridgeton; F. M. Miller, teo. Aug. 7 to 11—Tipton County Fair Company; Tipton; W. H. Oglegbay, Sec. Aug. 8 to 11-Wayue County Fair Aosoclation; Hagertown ; J. F. Hartley, fieo. Aug. 8 to 11—Henry, Madison and Delaware Agricultural Society; Middletown; F. B. Miller, Sec. Aug. 8 to 11—Jennings County Joint Stock Agricultural Association; North Vernon; Win. G. Norris, Sec. Aug. 14 to 18—Delaware Agricultural and Mechanical; Muncle; M. S. ilaypool, Sec. Aug. la to 18—Jetlerson County lair Association; Madison ; S. E. Haight, Sec. Aug. al to 'ill—Oakland City Agricultural end Industrial Sooiety ; Oakland Ctcy ; W. C. Miller, Sec. Aug. 81 to 25 Hancock County Agricultural Society ; Greenfield ; Marion Steele, Sec. Aug. 21 to ‘23—l’arko County Agricultural A*sooiatlon; Rockville; J. E. Alloa, Sec. Aug. 21 to 2ri-Davieae County Fair; Washington ; W. F. Axtell, Sec. Aug. ‘22 to 23—Washington County Fair Association ; Salem ; K. W. Menall, Sec. Aug. 28 to Sept. 1 -Clark County Central Agricultural Association; Charlestown;L. C. Morrison, Sec. Aug. 2s to Sept. 2—Clinton County AgHoultaral Society ; Frankfort; Joseph Hevlain, Heo: Aug. 28 to Sent. 2—Harrison county fair; Corydon; D. F. Hurst, Sec. Aug. 28 to Sept, 2—Warren County Agricultural Association ; BoonvIUe; Wm. L. Barker, Sec. Aug. 28 to sept. 2—Clark County Agricultural Association ; Charlestown; J.M. McMillan,Sec. Aug. 2D to Sept. 1— Switzerland aud Ohio Agricultural Soeiety; East Enterprise; W. H. Madison, Sec. Aug 2D to Sept. 2—Johnson County Agrioulturat Association ; Iranklin ; W. 8. Young, Sec. Aug. 2D to Sept. 2—Decatur County Agricultural Society ; (iroeusburg; Ed, Keating. Sec. Aug. 2D to Sept. 2 -Randolph Union Agricultural Society; Winchester; D. K. Kaufman, Sec. Aug. 2D to Sept. I—Grunge Jubilee and Agricultural Association; \Wrt Station; T. H. Watingtou. Sec, Sept. 4 to 9—Floyd County Fair Association; New Albany; 0. W. Schindler, Sec. Sept. 4 to 8-Benton aud Warren Agricultural Asaoolatlon; Boswell; W. 8. MoKnlght, Sec. Sept. 4 to l)--Speuoer County Agricultural and Industrial Society; CUrisney ;P. C. Jolly, Sec. Sent. 4 to B—Tippecanoe County Agricultural Association ; Lafayette; A. Wallace, See. Sept.S to »—Shelby County Joint Stock Association ; Shelbyviile; K. E. Stroup. Sec. Sept. 11 to 15—Montgomery Union Agricultural Society ; Crawfordsvllle; W. W. Morgan, Sec. Sopt. 12 to 15—Newton Couuty Agricultural Association ; Morocco; O. W. Royster, Sec. Sept. It to 10- Gibson County Fair Association; Princeton; H, Vet. Strain, Sec. Bept. 12 to 15— Kush County Agricultural Society; ltushvlUe;J. (J. Thomas, Sec. Sept. U to 15—Washington County l air Association ; Pekin; R. E. Elrod, Sec. Sept. 12 to 10—Bedford Fair Association; Bodford ; Frank Stammrd, Sec. Sept. 18to28— Indiana state Fair; Indianapolis; Charles F. Kennedy. Hoc. Sopt. 18 to 2)1- Perry Agricultural and Meohanlual Association; Rome; W. Wheeler,Sec. Sept. 18 to 2)l—Siieuoer County Fair Association; Rookport; A. D, Osrdlnghouse, Sec. Stfpt. 18 to 2)l—Green County Central Fair; Bloomington; T. T. Pllnglu, Hoc. Sept. ID to it- Wabash County Fair Association; Wabash; G. B. F'awlev, Sou. Sopt. ID to 22—Marshall County Agricultural and Industrial Association; Plymouth; A. M. Stevens, Hoe.

Sept. ID to 22—Porter County Agrloultural Society; Valparaiso; E. H. Beach, Seo. Bept. ID to 22 -Steuben County Agricultural Association ; Angola; H. L. Huston, Sec. Sept. 25 to 2D-Eastern Indiana Agricultural Association ; Kendallvllle; J. H. Coulogue, Sec. Sept. 23 to 80—Spencer County Fair Association; Hockport; C, M. Partridge, Sec. Sopt. 23 to SlD—Vermillion County Fair Association ; Cayuga; J. H. Grondyke, Hoc. Sept. 23 to 2D—Jay Couuty Agricultural aud Joint Stock Company; Portland ; U. W, Burgman, Sec. Sept. 2U to 2D—Tri-County Agricultural Society j North Manchester; 1). W. Chrisher, Bee. Sept. 28 to 2D—Jaipur County Fair Association; Seymour; C. A. Haltmarsh, Sec. Sept. 2tt to 80—Monroe County Agrloultural Assoolatlou ; Bloomington; C. it. Worrall, Seo. Sent. 27 to 20—Bremen Agricultural Society; Bremen; I. L, I). Loiter, Sec. Oct. 8 toH— Maxlukuckte Agricultural Association ; Culver Park ; E. 8. Freese. Heo. Oot. ato 7—Vermillion Couuty Joint Stock Association ; Newport; J. Rlubsrdson, Heo. Oct. 8 to fl— Marshall County Agrloultural and Industrial Association; Plymouth; H. N. Stephens, Sec. Oot. 4 to 7—Whitley County Joint Association; Columbia City; F. J. Heller, Heo Oot. D to 14—Knox County Agricultural and Meohaulcal Society; Vincennes; J. W. Ellison,See. Minor State Nows. The Infant child of John Snapp and wife ot Marietta, Shelby Couuty, was found dead In bod, with its parents, The saw mill at Rich Valley, Wabash Countv, owned by John Kelley, was burnod. Loss, 82,500; no Insurance. James Powell, who weighs 380 pounds, rolled down a flight of thirty steps at Muncie and was badly hurt. Kate Harbin, tho wonderlul 14-year-old preacher, Is meeting with great success in hor mootings at New Washington. At Csmbridgo City thieves broke into the drug store of HhuUstfc Beard. They blew open tho safe and socurod over 8100 in cash. Owensboro capitalists have purchased ten acres of land adjoining Uockport, and will bogln tho erection of a canning factory at once. A barn belonging to George Boots, near Potato Creok, Montgomery County, was set on fire and burned with the contents. Loss, 81,200; no insurance. The Tipton City Council has ordered a special election hold May 2, submitting the proposition for issuing bonds for the construction of water works to the legal voters of the city. Rudolph Reif, an old and prominent farmer of Wabash County, fell off a load of hay near Wabash, and was badly hurt Internally, three ribs being fractured. He is 75 years old. Peter Hoke, aged 80, a farmer living near Union City; committed suicide by shooting himself In the head with a revolver. It is said that he bad several times threatened to kill himself. When Fenton Epworth Mill of Elkhart, arose from bed the’o the f morning, he lighted a match, and accidently set fire to bis clothing. Before ho could extinguish the flames he was so severely burned that death resulted. The general hospitality which, the people of Evansville bestowed upon the Indiana Encampment, and the public spirit shown in decorations and entertainments, won the gratitude of tho recipients. No city in Indiana can do such things better than the prosperous city of Evansville, because its standard of achievements is the highest. (Samuel Lewis, a youug farmer attempted to board a moving train at Martinsville and fell under the wheels. He lost both feet and was otherwise badly injured. Dr. M. N. Elrod of Ilartsvllle, Bartholomew County, reports that he has just examined a “blowing" well cn the farm of John H. Pefley, near Dora. It Is slxty-two feet deep, and expels or sucks In air with a great rushing noise, the respiration dependingon the meteorological condition ot the weather. The farmer has stuck a whistle in his pump, and the screech can be heard two miles whenever a storm Is approaching. A meeting ot the members In Northern Indiana of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows was held at Fort Wayne. Nearly one thousand were in attendance. The object was to go through the different degrees of Odd Fellowship under the direction of E. C. Holgate of Danville, Grand Master of the State, who exemplifies the work and gives any necessary instructions, so that lodges of the small towns may not grow uqused to giving the degrees. The meetings were secret, and was held In the auditorium of the opera house, the stage being Used to exemplify the work. The scenery and settings have been transferred from the lodge room to the theater for that purpose.