Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1894 — Page 3

UNITED AT LAIST

CHAPTER Xf—Continued. From that time Constance Sinclair pbt aside all outward token of her grief. She wrote to the gayest and most pleasure-loving of her acquaintances—young married women, whose chief delight was to dress more expensively than their dearest friends, and to be seen at three parties on the same evening, and a few who were still spinsters, from no fault or foolishness of their own, since they had neglected neither plans nor art in the endeavor to secure an eligible partner for the dance of life. To these Constance wrote her letters of invitation, and the first sentence in each letter was sufficient to insure acceptance. “Dearest Ida —My husband is filling the house with men for the hunting season. Do come, and save me from being bored to death by their sporting talk. Be sure to bring your hunting habit. Gilbert can give' you a good mount,” etc., etc. Whereupon, dearest Ida, twisting about the little note, meditatively remarked to her last bosom friend and Aontidante, “Odd that they should ask people so soon after the death of Mrs. Sinclair’s baby—drowned, too —it was in all the papers. Davenant is a sweet house to stay at, quite liberty hall. Yet, I think I shall go, and if there are planty of people 1 can finish out my ball dresses in the evenings.” Before another Sunday came Davenant was full of peop e. tne attics noisy with strange ladies -maids, the stables and harness rooms full of life and bustle, not an empty stall or an unoccupied ioo.-,o box in the long range of buildings, the billiard-room and smok-ing-room resonaut with masculine laughter, unknown dogs pervading the outbuildings and chained up in every available corner. Constance Sinclair had put away her somber robes of crape and cashmere, and met her friends with welcoming smiles, radiant in black silk and lace, her graceful figure set off by the latest Parisian fashion, which, being the newest, was, of course, the best. "I thought she would have been in deeper mourning,” said one of Mrs. Sinclair’s dearest friends to another during a whispered chat in a dusky corner at afternoon tea. “The men were so noisy with their haw-haw talk, one could say what one liked,” remarked Mrs. Millamount afterward to Lady Loveall. “Looks rather heartless, doesn’t it?— ah only child, too. She might at least wear paramatta instead of that black silk —not even mourning silk. I suppose that black net trimmed with jet she wore last night was from Worth. ” “My dear, you couldn’t have looked at it properly. Worth wouldn’t have made her such a thing if she had gone down on her knees to him. The sleeve was positively antediluvian. Nice house, isn’t it? Everything in good style. What matches all these Clanyardes have made:” “Is it true that she was engaged to Sir Cyprian Davenant'?” “They say so. How sorry she must be! He has just come into.quite a heap of money. Some old man down in the Lincolnshire fens left it to him—quite a character, I believe. Never spent anything except on black-letter books, and those have been sold for a fortune at Sotheby’s. Ah, Mr. Wyatt, how d ye do?” as the solicitor, newly arrived that afternoon, threaded his way toward the quiet corner; “do come and sit here. Is it true that Sir Cyprian Davenant has come into a fortune?” “Nothing can be more true, unless it is that Mrs. Millamount looks younger and lovelier every season.” “You horrid flatterer. You are worse than a French milliner. And is it true that Mrs. Sinclair and Sir Cyprian were engaged? But no, it would hardly be fair to ask you about that. You are a friend of the family. ” “As a friend of the family, I am bound to inform you that rumor is false on that point. There was no engagement. ” “Really, now?” “But Sir Cyprian was madly in love with Miss Clanyarde.” “And she ” “I was not in the lady’s confidence; but I believe that it was only my friend’s poverty which prevented their marriage. ” ' “How horridly mercenary!” cried Mrs. Millamount, who came of an ancient Irish family, proud as Lucifer and poo as Lazarus, and had been sacrificed in the blossom of her days, like Iphigenia, to raise the wind—not to Diana, but to a rich stock-broker. Perhaps as that was a long time ago she may have forgotten how much more P utus had to do with her marriage than Cupid. CHAPTER XII. THIS SHACKLES OF AN OLD LOVE STRAITENED HIM. Cyprian Davenant had inherited a fortune. Common rumor had not greatly exaggerated the amount of his wealth, though there was the usual disposition to expatiate upon the truth. Needy men looked at him with envy as he went in and out of his club, or sat in a quiet corner reading the last “Quarterly” or “Edinburgh,” and almost wondered that he was so well able to contain his spirits, and wa3 not , tempted to perform a savage dance of / Choctaw character, or to give expression to his rapture in a war-whoop. “Hang it all, you know, ” remarked an impecunious younger son, “it aggravates a fellow to see Davenant take things so quietly. He doesn’t even look choerful. He does not invite the confidence of his necessitous friends. Such a knight of the rueful countenance would hardly stand a pony. And he won t play whist, or touch a billiardcue —quite an unapproachable beast. ” A man oannot be lucky in all things. Sir Cyprian had set his life upon a cast-, and the fortune of the game had been against him. The inheritance of this unexpected wealth seemed to him almost a useless and trivial stroke of fate. What could it avail him now? It could not give him Constance Clanyarde, or even restore the good old bouse in which his father and mother had lived and died. Time had set a

BY MISS M E BRADDON

gulf between him and happiness, and the fortune that came too late seemed rather the stroke of some mocking and ironical Fate than the gift of a benevolent destiny. He came back from Africa like a man who lives a charmed life, escaping all manner of perils, from the gripe of marsh fever to the jaws of crocodiles; while men who had valued existence a great deal more than he had done had succumbed and left their bones to bleach upon the sands of the Gold Coast or to rot in a stagnant swamp. Cyprian Davenant had returned to find the girl he loved the wife of the man he m ist disliked. He heard of her marriage more in sorrow than in anger. Ho had not expected to find her free. His knowledge of Lord Clanyarde’s character had assured him that his lordship’s beautiful daughter would be made to marry well. No fair Circassian, reared by admiring and expectant relatives in the seclusion of her Caucasian home, fattened upon milk and almonds to the standard of Oriental beauty, and in due course to be carried to the slave-market, had ever been brought up with a more specific intention than that which had ruled Lord Clanyarde in the education of his daughters. They had all done welL He spent very little of his time at Marchbrooke nowadays, his wife having died shortly after Constance's marriage, but dawdled away his life agreeably at his daughters’ winter houses out of the season, and felt that his mission had been accomplished. No father had ever done more for his children, and they had cost him very little. What a comfort to have been blessed with lovely marriageable daughters instead of lubberly sons, squatting on a father's shoulders like the old man of the mountain, thought Lord Clanyarde, when he had leisure to reflect upon his lot. After that one visit in Park Lane, Sir Cyprian Davenant had studiously avoided Mrs. Sinclair. He had very little inclination for society, and although his friends were ready to make a fashionable lion of him upon the strength of his African explorations, he had strength of mind enough to refuse all manner of flattering invitations, and innumerable introductions to people who were dying to know him. He took a set of chambers in one of the streets between the Strand and the river, surrounded himself with the books he loved, and set about writing the history of his travels. He had no desire to achieve fame by book-mak-ing, but a man must do something with his life. Sir Cyprian felt himself too old or too unambitious to enter one of the learned professions, and he felt himself without motive for sustained industry. He had an income that sufficed for all his desires. He would write his book, tell the world the wonders he had seen, and then go back to Africa and see more wonders, and perhaps leave his bones along the road, as some of his fellow-travelers had done. He heard of Constance Sinclair heard of her as one of the lights in Fashion's sidereal system—holding her own against all competitors. He saw £er once or twice, between five and six on a June afternoon, when the carriages were creeping along the Lady's Mile, and the high-mettled horses champing their bits and tugging at their bearing-reins in sheer desperation at being compelled to this snail’s pace. He saw her looking her loveliest, and concluded that she was happy. She had all things that were reckoned good in her world. Why should he suppose there was anything wanting to her content? The lawyer's letter, which had told him of old Colonel Gryffin's death, and the will which bequeathed to him the bulk of the old man’s fortune, found Sir Cyprian in his quiet chambers near the river, smoking the cigar of peace over the last treatise on metaphysics by a German philosopher. Lady Davenant had been a Miss Gryffin, and the favorite niece of this ancient AngloIndian, Colonel Gryffin, who had lived and died a bachelor. Sir Cyprian had a faint recollection of seeing a testy old gentleman with a yellow complexion at Davenant in his nursery days, and having been told to call the old gentleman “uncle,” whereup n he had revolted openly, and had declined to confer that honor up n such a wizened and tawnycomplexioned anatomy as the little old gentleman in question. “My uncles are big,” he said. “You’re too little for an uncle.” Soon afterward the queer old figure had melted out of the home picture. Colonel Gryffin had gone back to the Lincolnshire fens and his ancient missals and incunabula, and had lived so remote an existence that the chief feeling caused by his death was astonishment at the discovery that he had been so long alive. Messrs. Dott & Gowunn, a respectable firm of family solicit irs in Lincoln s Inn. begged to inform Sir Cyprian Davenant that his great uncle, on the maternal side, Cob nel Gryffin, of Hobart Hall, near Hammerfie d, Lincolnshire, had appointed him residuary legatee and sole executor to his 'will. - Sir Cyprian was quite unmoved by the announcement. Residuary legatee might mean a great deal, or it might mean very little. He had a misty recollec tion of being tote that Colonel Gryffin was rich, and was sm posi d to squander untold sums on Guttenberg bibles and other amiable eccent icities of a bookish man. Be had never been taught to expect any inheritance from this ancient bachelor, and he supposed him for many years laid at rest under the daisies of his parish church-yard. The re iduary legateeship turned out to be a very handsome fortune. The missals and bibles and antique Books of Hours, the Decameron, and the fine old Shakspearc we . e put up at auction—ly desire of the testator — and were sola for twice and three times the sums the old Colonel had paid for thep. Ini a word, Sir Cyprian Daveriant,, who had esteemed himself passing rich upon four hundred a year, stood possessed of a hundred and twenty thou.-and pounds. .It came too late to buy him the desire of his heart, and, not being able to win for him this ofie blessing, it seemed almost useless. James Wvatt was one of the first to congratulate Sir Cyprian upon this change of fortune. “A pity the old gentleman did not die before you went to Africa,” he said, sympathetically. “It would have SQuared things for you and Miss Clanyarde." “Miss Clanyarde made a very good marriage,” an-we ed Cyprian, too proud 10 bare his old wound to friendly James Wyatt. “She is happy.” Mr. Wyatt shrugged his shoulders dubiously. “Who knows?” he said. “We see our friends’ lives from the out ide, and, like a show at a fair, the outside is always, the best of the performance." This, ha pened while Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair were at Schoenesthel. Soon came the tidings of Baby Christabel’s fate, briefly told in a newspaper paragraph, and .Cyprian Davenant's heart , bled for the woman he had once loved.

He was not a little surprised when James Wvatt called upon him one day in November, and told him he was going down to Davenant, where there was to be a houseful of company. “So soon after the little girl’s death,” exclaimed Sir Cyprian. “Yes, it is rather soon, no doubt But they would be moped to death at Davenant without people. Sack-cloth and ashes are quite out of the fashion, you see. People don’t go in for intense mourning nowadays." “People have hearts, I supposej even in the nineteenth century, said Sir Cyprian, somewhat bitterly. “I should have thought Mts. Sinclair would have felt the loss of her little girl very deeply.” “We don’t know what she may feel," returned Wyatt. “Gilbert likes his own way.” “You don’t mean to say that he illuses his wife?” asked Sir Cyprian, alarmed. “111-usage is a big word. We don't employ it nowadays,” replied Mr. Wyatt, with an imperturbable smile. “Gilbert Sinclair is my client, and an excellent one, as you know. It would ill become me to disparage him, but I must admit that he and Mrs. Sinclair are not the happiest couple whose domestic hearth I have ever sat by. She had some secret grief even before the death of her child and made hp for being very brilliant in society by being exceedingly dull at home, i don’t expect to find her very lively, now that she has lost the only being she really cared for. She absolutely worshiped that child.” This conversation gave Sir Cyprian Davenant material for much sad thought To know that Constance was unhappy seemed to bring her nearer to him. It brought back the thought of the old days when those innocent eyes had looked into his, eloquent with unconscious love; when Constance Clanyarde had given him her heart without thought of to-morrow, happy in the knowledge that she was loved, believing her lover strong to conquer fate and fortune. And he had brought the chilly light of worldly wisdom to bear on this dream of Arcady. He had been strong, self-denying, and had renounced his own happiness in the hope of securing hers. And now fate laughed him to scorn with this gift of vain riches, and he found that his worldly wisdom had been supreme folly. “What a self-sufficient fool, what an idiot, I have been!” he said to himself, in an agony of remorse. “And now what atonement can I make to her for my folly? Can I defend her from the purse-proud snob she has been sold to? Can I save her wounded heart one pang? Can Ibo near her in the hour of misery, or offer one drop of comfort from a soul overflowing with tenderness and pity? No; to approach her is to do her a wrong. But 1 can watch at a distance, perhaps. I must use other eyes. My money may be of some use in buying her faithful service from others. God bless her! I conseorate my days to her service; distant or near, I will be her friend and her defender.” Two days later Sir Cyprian met Lord Clanyarde at the nobleman’s club. It was a club which Cyprian rarely used, although he had been a member ever since his majority, and it may be that he went out out of his beaten track in the hope of encountering Constance Sinclair s father. Lord Clanyarde was very cordial and complimentary upon his friend’s altered fortune. “You must feel sorry for having parted with Davenant,” he said, “when you might so easily have kept it. ” “Davenant is rather too big for a confirmed bachelor. ” “True, it would have been a white elephant, I dare say. Sinclair has improved the place considerably. You ought to come down and have a look at it. I’m going to Marchbrook to shoot next week. Come and stay with me,” added Lord Clanyarde, with heartiness, not at all prepared to bo taken at his word. “I shall be charmed.” said Sir Cyprian, to his lordship’s infinite astonishment. People generally took his invitations for what they were worth, and declined them. But here was a man just from the center of Africa, who hardly understood the language of polito society. [to bb continued. |

RODE ON THE FIRST ENGINE.

Which Was Ever Run In the United States. By the death of John Torry, iq Honesdale, Pa., recently, Otis Avery becomes the sole survivor of those who rode on America’s first locomotive on the first day it ran, Aug. 8, 1829. Mr. Avery was born Aug. 19, 1808, in Oneida County, New York. He removed to Bethany, Pa., when he was 20 years of age. Later he removed to Chenango County, New York, and still later to New York City, where he learned the profession of dentistry. Then he removed to Honesdale. He was Associate Justice for eleven years retiring from the bench about ter years ago. Mr. Avery says that Horatio Alien a civil engineer and the agent of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company, who had gone to England to superintend the construction of the first locomotive, the “Stourbridge Lion,” was the only man to ride on the engine upon its first run, because it was not known whether the road was strong enough to bear the weight of the 1< comotive. Mr. Allen ran the engine about a mile and then returned to the place of starting. Immediately after its return several of those assembled made short trips on it, but Mr. Avery says that there was little inclination among those present to risk their lives on board, especially as part of the distance traversed was over a risky-look-ing trestle. The track of this first railread was constructed with hemlock stringers keyed to the top of “bents,” with a flat rail spiked to the inner edge. This was pressed by the weight of the engine completely into the wood. Anthracite, coal was the fuel used. The engine had no cab and no place to sit down. He was wholly unprotected from the weather.

Could Only Be Auswered in Latin.

Little Rastus—Dar’s sumpin’, fes«ah, I wants ter ask yer ’bout de ooeanses. Dar’s moah watah in de oceanses at high tide’n at low tide. W’at becomes of all dat extry watah dat wuz at high tide w’en it gets to be low tide? Prof. Johnson—Um —um —dat’s a questshun, honey, , &t kin on'y be answered in Latin. Umpery, trumpery, dixuiq digit sockdologous. Dat’s w’at becomes ob de watah, honey, on’y you’se too young ter un’erstan’.

Grasshoppers—$1 Per Bushel.

Grasshoppers have become so plentl* ful in the State of New Hampshire that a law has been passed providing a bounty of sl' a bushel for the destructon of tho insects. One farmer has received S9O for as manv bushels of the pests. There is a great deal of genuine selfishness walking up and down in the world that is weansing religion’s cloak. Never go to sleep, especially after a great effort, even in hot weather, without some covering over you.

AGRICULTURAL NEWS

A FEW SUGGESTIONS FOR OUR RURAL READERS. I.lfe ol the Small Farmer Is a Happy One Convenient Raff Holder- A Model Village Stable Well-Arranged Water Bench—Agricultural Notes. Convenient Bag Holder. The Ohio Farmer thus describes the bag holder which is here Ulustraded: A, is au inch board 12 inches wide and 20 inches long. B, 15 is an inch board 6 inches wde and 24 inches long. Cis an upright post 36 inches high, ]}x2 inches square, and mortised through the boards A and B, B, at the bottom. D is au upright post 24 inches high, l’x2 Inches square. E, E are two iron arms 18 inches long, 1 inch wide and i inch thick, fastened on top ot post D with a wood screw bolt, and ghen a half twist as shown; also two upward and outward extending flanges G, G, 0 inches long and 1 inch high. H, H, are two hickory springs 21 feet

BAG HOLDER

long, 2 inches wide by } inch thick, fastened near the outer end of the iron arms, E, E, with rivet at lower end to post D with | inch bolt. I is a small block fastened between the springs H, H, to give the arms E, E, the proper spread, which should be 20 inches at outer tips. Jis a collar made of hoop iron fastened to post D and litt ng loosely around post G K is a light iron clevis fastened loosely to post D and fitting loosely around post C. A piece of hoop iron, 18 inches long, is fastened in post 0, slightly extending at back of post, and has very small notches filed in It to which the clevis K holds. Post D with all that is fastened to it is free to slide up and down post C, thus adjusting jitself to long or short bags, while the springs, 11, H, allow the arms E, E, to be pressed together or spread, thus adjustin ' itself to wide or nanow bags. The dotted lines show bag in position for filling. A WeU-Arrunsed Wntur Henrh. Where water can be brought by a pipe from a near-by well, or from a Bpring, the task of br.nging it in pails can happily be avoided. But a large proportion of homes are still served with water from a pump in the yard from which the water must be carried to the house in pails. A simple bench usually provides a support for these pa is of water which are thus exposed to heat in summer,

CONVENIENT WATER BENCH.

dust, flies, and an occasional visit, perhajs, from the family cat The Illustration accompanying this shows how water can be kept cool in summer and perfectly protected from cats, flies, and dust When the pails are to be filled, the front which Is hinged, is let down, the cover raised, and the pails when tilled areas easily set back as upon an open bench. The front and the cover can then be closed and the water kept clean and cool. The closet below will be found exceedingly convenient for numerous uses that will occur to -any housekeeper living in the country. A|Tnb for Crain Soaking;. At the grain sowing season nothing is more handy than a tub in whice to soak, clean or kill smut spores than a tight half-barrel of

half-barrel which may be put to use at all seasons of the year for other purposes when not in use for seed soaking. In making, select a tight, 6trongly made barrel, a vine?ar or molasses barrel being preferable; but if a ligh one is desired a flour or sugar barrel where perfectly tight may be used. In the farm toolhouse it may be quickly sawed in two, tightly hooped and rope handles putin at the two sides. Progress in Spraying. In no other department of uorticuitural knowledge has so much progress been made as has been made in spraying. It was at first recommended chiefly to destroy the codling moth, which destroys the apple crop. Hut it is now found equally efficacious in preventing the scab and blight on leaf and fruit, which is a greater present danger than the codling moth to perpetrate its species. In most orchards where the apple crop entirely failed when apples are now grown they are free from worms. For grapes the spraying fs now regarded as Indispensible to prevent rot The Bordeaux mixture is also found an effective remedy for anthracnose on Blackcap raspberries, in spraying for fungus diseases several applications are better than one. A small bit of fungus that escapes th 4 fljst or second application

increases very rapidly. But It la probable that thorough spraying one season wMHrreatly lessen tha*aMount of this work that will be needed the year following. Working a Small Farm. If you can’t do better, be a onfiborse farmer. Jr you have a little money ahead, buy a small piece of land and become independent. You can get out of it enough to eat; it will make for you a home for your family; your one or two cows will become pets; your horse, one of the family; your hens will give you eggs and fat chickens for an occasional dinner. Your wife and children can go to town or to see an acquaintance occasionally. It will make life happier for them and keep oil the blues. If your gains die small, your ex; enses a:e small also. If there Is not much mouey in your pocket-book, you have the satisfaction of knowing that there is corn in the crib, potatoes in the cellar, milk in the pantry, butter in the jar, eggs in the basket, and cucumbers, tomatoes, peas, sweet corn, squashes, onions in the garden all to be had without | uttiug your hand into your po ket-book at all. You can be busy all the time. A little farm can absorb all your energies. If there are rocks on It they can be removed, one at a time at any time of the year, when other demands for labor slacken. You can seize your crowbar, a: d with a little dynamite hoist these obstacles to farming skywards. If there is an old apple tree In the midst of your meadow, and which has been plowed around for years, grub It out. Then the cultivator can ride over the spots which It must now go around, and two years hence thomowing-iuachlno will not have to dodge it in the hay season. Last year I took out a rock in the field and the plow ran right through a spot that had been plowed around for sixty years, aad 1 had a number of protltable corn hills where none ever grew before. This spring, from that same Held, which will be put into oats, I shall remove another and larger rock. Dynamite will make quick work of It. About the only labor will lie in hauling tho broken pieces.—W. L. Thacker. A Village stable. 1 A small window over the stable door, through which hay Is pitched with difficulty, is avoided by a break In the roof, as shown in tho accompanying illustration from tho American Agriculturist, giving room for a

door of generous size. A box Btall ought to be provided In every stable, as it will be found most useful for the occasional use both of the horse and cow. It may take tho place of the extra stall that ought always to bo provided for the horse of a visitor, so that there is but little extra rocm called for. Fattening Animal* on Gras*. Large numbers of animals are every year fattened on grass, being turned out in May or June, and sold off when fattened in the fall. This grass feed is also right when at Its best, but at either end it needs to be supple* mented with grain feeding, as does also the feed of cows at pasture, bo long as tho grass is immature a considerable amount of grain will be eaten daily. There should be a grain ration also when the pasture fails In the fall, and especially If it Is supplemented by fodder corn cut before it is mature enough to come In tussel. A little grain feed in summer will go farther in fattening any kind of stock than a much larger amount in winter. Dairy Hint. Hoard’s Dairyman gives these hints about wooden vessels: “Don’t set a wooden bowl or butter printer in the sun or by a stove to dry. They last much longer If dried slowly. Also wet these things before using them for cream, milk, or butter. 11 the pores are lllled with water they cannot absorb grease and so get tainted. Wood will absorb the butter lats in milk and milk products, and they will not dry out as does water.”

Farm Notes* WniTE clover is excellent for fil. ing up bare places on grass plots, as it will grow and thrive where other grasses will fall, but it prefers a rich soil that contains lime. The farmer is his own employer, and does not have to go or come at ! the beck ot anyoue else. This is j worth remembering when you are figuring up the advantages and disadvantages of the occupation. The Lima bean has been so callcJ for a hundred years, and, as its name indicates, seems the have first been known in South America. The common kidney bean seems to have first been known to thCi ancient Peruvians. '+> It is stated that the’best way to test cabbage seed is to drop some on a botTstove. If the seeds burst and pop (like popcorn) they may be considered of good quality, and those is the package will germinate and produce good plants. When green crops arc plowed under for the purpose of enriching the soil, an application of lime will often be of the greatest benefit It helpi to correct the acidity of the soil, which often results lrom too rapid fermentation of the green stuff. Farmers’ clubs, grange meetings, institutes, etc., help to promote the 1 social side of farm life, and bring the people of a community into closer re lation and sympathy with each other. Do not neglect these things any more than you do the proper cultivation oi your land. Is does not pay to use low-grade fertilizers. They contain less or the elements In proportion to their cost than do the higher grades, and the cost for freight and handling is out of proportion to their value II you buy jour fertilizers, do It la as condensed form as Possible.

convenient she for use. On many farms the comimon method is ao borrow the good wives’ washtubs, pans, etc. The cut shows a

VILLAGE STABLE.

MINERS SHOT DOWN.

fatal encounter between STRIKERS AND DEPUTIES. Rilled Outright and Others Mortally Wounded— Officers Cilre the Order to Fire Seemingly Without Provocation—Operators Arm for the Conflict. Scene of Slaughter. At daybreak Thursday morning the battle which had boon threatening at the Stickle Hollow. Pa., mines of the Wa hington Coal and Coke Company for the past few days occurred, and as a result at least seven strikers aro lying dead aid many are seriously wounded. - Shortly before midnight 2,000 strikers a sjmbled at tho Stickle Holli w plants, coming from Lucyville, Fayette City. Treuort, Allenport and many other points on the Monongahela River. Home of them were armed, but tho maji rlty were not. They wont into samp near the plant, where they remained until ;i o'clock in the morning, when they adjourned to the public road leading to the works, over which the workmen would have to pass to the pit Here they formed a line to intercept tho workmen and attempt to get them to return homo. According to program thoy stopped the first delegation of minors and after a little persuasion induced them to join the strike. _ The men turned back, and about the timo they were starting homeward with tlioir dinner buckets the deputios, who wore m guard and witnesses to the affair, were ordered to shoot. They fired into the mob at close range, am fired to kill. It was the bloodiest conflict of the present strike, and the awful work of destroying human lives was accomplished in throe rapidly tired volleys. The promiscuous rovolvors and small arms of the strikers were no match for the ■Winchesters of the deputies, and the strikers cuiekly relreatod, leaving their dead and dying on the battleground. Many arrests followed the oonflict. and the jail is flllod to overflowing with tho disheartened strikers, who offered c miparativelv no re ist,anoo to the officers of tho law. There wore e ; ghty deputios, and all continued to shoot as Iqug as tho men kept in range. This informant saw four dead in the road and throo in the wheat field. The labor loaders, according .to reports, aro paralyzed at the turn ulTairs havo taken. They refuse to talk about it. It is thought no more attempts will bo made to bring out those workmen unless a ama'l army is raised. A llniontown dispatch says that efforts aro being made by tiio strikers to provo that tho attack of tho deputies upon the strikers was unwa rantable, and that thoy wore slaughtered without warning undor a galling fire delivered at a dlHtav.ce of fifty feet. Hut later reports indicate clearly that the encounter was a two-sided buttle—the first engagement in which both officers and strikers were shooting to kill. All the doad aro strikers. Officers of the coal company say that tho strikers served nottco upon thorn that thoy expected to assault tho works. Tho deputies considered the interference with the workmen as they proceeded to the works tlio beginning of tho assault, and oponed lire.

MOBBED BY STRIKERS.

Desperate Illinois Miners Fill Dp th« Shaft of a Ceutralla Mine. A mob of fOO yelling, shouting and desperate Illinois strikers from Duuuoin and Rt. John’s mines captured an Illinois Contral train early Thursday morning and compelled Engineer Stowartto haul them to Centralla. Arriving there they rushed to the Big Four mine in the northern part of the city, operated by Pottenger & Davis, and wrecked thousands of dollars’ worth of property. Thirty non-union men found working in the mine were driven like frightened sheo|> from the leads, while tho strikers male several attempts to do bodily in.ur.v. Tho rage of the leaders of tho mob know no bounds when the workmen escaped, and. in a few moments tho scarcely less infuriated strikers sp ead destruction ahout the mine. Dumpcarts, props, timbe s, old machinery and all available 100 e material were hurled Into tho shaft, completely filling it. The glass ami sa h of tho buddings were smashed and the mining machinery were speedily rendered u o’ess. Ace irding to a press dispatch, scenes of wanton destruction and intimidation continued until 9 o’clock, when thp piilagors formed under leaders and marehod to tho Odin mines, eight miles away, there to repeat tho work of destruction. The local committee made an ineffectual uttempt Wednesday to induce the n.en working in the Pottenger mine to stop work, lienee the attack of the strikers. When it was learned in Contralia that tho mob was on route in o captured freight train, a special train was made up fop Fhariff Helms and his posee at Salem, but the official arrived only to see tho maraudors marching toward Odin. Cuic ly roeruiting fifty deputies, Sheriff Helms aimed his party with Winche-ters and 1 of ammunition each at the local armory and left for Cd n in a special tfa n. Gov. Altgeld was asked to s#*.id th v State militia to tho re ne but rofesed to o o until the 10. al authorities had used the moans within their p;ower to prosorve peace and protect property.

Brieflets.

Several b-idgos we o wished away noac Anpka, fjjpa., by a flood. Gov. Waite of Colorado will make Populist campaign speeches In Illinois. The Tayldr brothers, murderers of the Meeks fifttt.ly, are said to have been cornered' in tho woods near Novinger, Mo. It is said the Grand Duke Faul of Russia, a brother < f the Czar, will marry Princess Maud, youngest daugh-ter.-of thd'Prince of Wales. Andrew .L Graham, author of the system Of shorthand which tears his name, died at his ho o in Orange, N. .7. He was ia bis 6th year. The Kellys and Raffertys, of Southville, Ma-s., settled a long-standing feud with revolvers. Two will die and two others are badly wounded. J. L. Hastings', Representative from the Twenty second Senatorial District of 11l nois, uied at his homo in Galesburg. He was 36 years old. The m tter of the sale of tbo Guaranty Loan Building at Minneapolis, Minn., will be taken up shor.tly. The into-nati nal conference of River brethren closed at Abi ene, Kan. Bishop Engle was elected Mcderator and J, E. Sta.iffner, of Illinois, Mission Treasurer. A meeting of the leaders of the .commonweal is to be hi-ld soon at Des Mo nes. lowa, to formulate a plan for a nali nal organization to perpetuate the movement. An admission fee was charge! to Randall’s camp at Fort Wayne, Ind., and considerable money was secured. Pr visions in plenty have bran fur uished by citizens.

INDIANA INCIDENTS.

SOBER OR STARTLING, FAITHFULLY RECORDED. An Interesting Summary of the More In. portent DoU*» of Onr Xelshbon-Wed. ding* and D-ratha—Crime*. Casualties and General News Notes Condensed State News. Oicero has a barber shop called “U. R. nexty.” Richmond Presbyterians will build a SIO,OOO church. Worms are destroying celery plants in Northern Indiana.' NeW normal school building, Columbus. will cost $20,00). Nobi.ksvtl.le hopes to locate • couple of factories this year. Many young squirrels are being killed by hunters near Richmond. A Muncie girl wants to know if a storm bolt is not a lightning rod worn about the waist. Jefferson Hardy’s 7-year-old son, 1 Lebanon, died from lockjaw caused by splinter in his fo.it Orleans people think that tho Seymour bloodhounds aro no good for the tracking of criminals. Joseph Melton, a lfi-year b?d boy of Washington, had a leg cut off by tho cars at Loogootoe. The machinery Is in place at Sheridan for a hoop factory which will give employment to forty men. Chas. Ross, near Kokomo, is dead from blood poisoning, tho result of a bruise received by sparring. Nicholas Dqjim, ageti 11, was run down mid killed by a Wabash engine switching on the Belt road east of Lafayette. -" i ' l J - John Hazzard, Who desorted his family at Seottslmrg thirty years ago, dlod in Kansas, lust week, leaving a «10,000 estate. Horace ,Q. Cox, aged 40 years, was found dead in his room, at the National Hotel, Peru, having taken twonty-iivo grains of morpliiuo. A Brazil man picked up $26 the other day and after a day's search found tho owner, who was mad because tho finder ha 1 not returned tho money sooner. R. J. Lee a wealthy farmer, living near Shelby ville, while leading ahorse to tho liarn, was jerked an i thrown violently to tho ground receiving fatal injuries. Dennis Dunn of Anderson, brakeman on tho Big Four Ruilroud, was instantly killed while at work switching on the Innls-Poafoo Company’s sidetrack at Rushvlllo, A Richmond woman, who had her watch stolen last August, found it the othorday In possession of a friend, who h*.d purchased it in Indianapolis after it had passod through niuny hands. A young woman in a Wimunac drug Btore rofusod to pay for soda water sho drank because tho clerk romurked, when sho suld hlio thought it was cooling: “Ido, too. It’s Hoda-llghtful.” At Peru, William Seigwart, hiswifo, and four children are seriously ill with trichinosis, caught from outing packing house sausage, The wife and one daughter are (langerous, but. tho condition of tho others is improving. Councilman Jaokhon, Kokomo, turn como into possession of an old deed dated Nov. 16, 17Kty,,ai)d signed by Patrick Henry, then Governor of Virginia, convoying to Jackson’s ancestors 16,000 acres of lund near tho Ohio River.

An unknown man wus instantly killed at Valparaiso on the Niokle Plate Road by being struck by a through-freight. He was about 45 years old, light complexion, black hair and sandy mustache and whiskers; was well dressod. Every State, bonevolont, and penal institution has been closed against visitors and inmates by the Stato Board ol Health. An invasion of small-pox from Chicago is feared. Neither patients nor visitors will be admitted without a permit from the board. While assisting in tearing down a large wooden bridge at Mexico. Joseph Wlkel foil into tho river bolow. Before he could be extricated the structure collapsed on him, inflicting fatal injuries. The rost of the workmen had just left tho bridge when it foil. While grinding a plow point with a horse power grindstone, Charles Richards, a farmer who lives near the Highlands, two miles east of Vincennes, was instantly killed. The grindstone burst, and a piece struck Richards and knocked off tho top part of his head. Jeremiah Mtjbser, private Company K, Second Regimont Missouri Cavalry, residing with his son, A. J. Mussor, a prominent business man of North Vernon, became afflicted with paralysis of. the throat while at dinner, and choked to death before assistance could bo rendered. Ho was 76 years old and a United States pensioner. Patents have been awarded residents of Indiana as follows: Alma F. Blouse, Hammond, vehicle dashboard and toqdor; Chauncy H. Jenhe, Fort Wayne, clumn sketching camera; Clotilda P. Thbitihs, Evansville, powder box; James J, VVood, Fort Wayne, switchboard for high-tension circuits; James J. Wood, Fort Wayne, electric current indicator. William Lewis, one of the living with a broken nock, was removed from the hospital to his homo in Frankfort recently. July 12, 1892, ho was accidentally shot in the neck by his sweetheart, the bullet severing the spinal column. They were to have jeon married that day in Chicago, the license having boen procured. ,Mr. Lewis, after nearly two years in the hospital, was brought homo, his head being encased in a rigid steel frame, which extended down the back, with cotton under the steel bands. Ho bids fair to live many years. William Kennedy, a lifetime prisoner, has been released from the Prison youth, on a conditional pardon issued by Governor Matthews. Kennedy was sent up in 1871 to serve eight years for burglary, but in attempting to escape in 1674 killed a guard by the name of Chamberlain. He was twice sentenced to be hung, but both times secured new trials, and tho third time was given a life term in the penitentiary. He has served altogether seventeen years. The pardon was on condition that ho should not drink any intoxicating liquors and should obey the laws of the State. The other morning Mrs. Oscar Miller of Muncie, awoke' and found her 3-weeks-old babe dead, lying between her and Mr. Miller. The child was not sick, and if is believed to have been smothered to death. Last January, Charles Taber, a wealthy farmer residing near Ainsworth, mysteriously left his home. His family offered SI,OOO reward for any information that would lead to his whereabouts. Receiving none, the family gave him up for dead, thinking that he had been murdered. The other night he returned home as unexpectedly as he disappeared. He had been to Portland; 1 Oregon, but he refused to state reasons for leaving.