Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 11 January 1885 — Page 2

THE PASSING TtEAJR.

.: Good by, Old Year, So old and aero—

I'm-glad to see thee disappear! Go any whefice, But go from hence—• ..... Go hang thy hide upon the fence!

Thy narrow round, Within its boond,

rat

•x

"You have laughed at me* I do not ki ow what name they give that in the jarth but, in Vireinia, we should call lithat unmannerly.'" "If I have been bo,

"I I isaid,

1.'"

Doth twelve good months, full weight, surround: And this, I hear,"

No other year

•+Hath e'er exceeded, far or near.

Around thee creep •*. The wail and weep

Of disappointment keen uud deep And it is known Full many as grown Most pierce thy conscience to the bone.

When thou wert young, With tunefnl tongas

i, Thy natal day I joyous song-, Now at thy goal Thou poor old soul,

Serene thy passing bell 1 toll. Old Year, good-by! I do not cry To see thee crawl awav and die

But I'll be swore For three weeks more .. I'll wriw it 1884. —[Appendix Exhibit G.

Exhibit G—There may be, and indeed there really is, no more sense in this poem than there is in the general ran of New Year or Old Year •poems. But joat see how the rhymeis worked iu. That's the beauty and grandeur of a poem. It

ISil

BQIltllllGSlt Or 86QU6i It 8 t/ho BOBEBT J. BUBDETT®.

HIS LITTLE LOVE.

snowy January afternoon^

^Through the little windows of the warm waiting room two travelers saw the snow blowing across the whitened fields, and heard the sweep of the wind among the leafless branches and against the window panes.

A'gSfrtleman of about 30 stood at the window, one arm resting on a little shelf, and eyes bent on the girlish face beside him. He was not handsome, yet his was a face one would look at with as much or with more interest than if the features were as perfect as Apollo's own.

The eyes and mouth, were full of powfer

"*"**^1116 jwn*CF"08feeially wonderfully expressive, and, as he spoke now, fall of easy, quizzical regard. "Are you afraid of me, Miss Marion

Do you think I shall prove a tyrannical or lenient guardian?" "I am not the least bit afraid of you, air. the young lady called Marion [wy jf ^iiswered in a cold, business-like voice, looking him in the eye. "Not afraid? How strange!" he said, the smile around his mouth deepening. "Do you generally inspire those who meet you with awe. Mr. Vana?" "I am a lawyer, he replied, "therefore blessed with second sight, ot course.

Not only do we judge by the outward evidences of the thoughts in a client's heart, but the inner working of the vital organ is an open book to us. Your thoughts I now—" 3 He paused. I "Well?" she asked impatiently. "Are not flattering to me. You consider me an unmitigated bore, very cold -and professional—not good-looking. You .]• long for the schoAJ left behind in the south, where days fike this were unheard of, and"where theJfcollege students serenarlAd yn dedpiated flowery sonnets \nfhd darted a quick, 'rom the dark eyes t.aiu,!aiarnv

angryj una

veil

strapped across

ledlcal treata

were too poor to buy.Oh be sarcastic," she [that moment Health at «v,nt within your reach, but tflfAI.,an.d

shruS'

but

It, I applied, howeva u: If it .amuses you, infinitely, more. I am sound and well of your satire, neither do I Bpeclflo is the bes ^W£erld'MRS,Tt»nn

rai8ed his blws in

un"

Pj AD' 'tfaj petite, so childish in appearS

A^UEK|^ of her eighteen years, and f* P1* »?MiS^^«a|jihosity she expressed was so rede®was all refreshing, and he don ajnusedly as she went to a ied herself in a

eel tic 1st

yr'tf feeTieral satis have ever handle ^studentcamrSx) covered wHh'ftV 5S. He took oi? sores dl t'and his sEranS'v ftsmooth and fr»vatclied f.be has gat'Five minutes |seUnce of^y th« cl£ck

Sti11

exclusion of himgmacit.

ai»=doiS

book was

Baled" Jip8 and aware slowly 'waiting ed above

irenev*oom, and a brown Ifof the rim of the book, ther^one curious -J* and brightly angry eye, jFhich met his and disappeared like a flash.

Jerome laughed. He knew by that outbufst of mirth he totally lost aU h— Tar|TpgT ground with her, but he could five f&wt heTfr'jt. its id

smiling, he walked slowly to her

mall "''Do not freeze me 1" he said, pathetiTHE cally, holding out his hand "we must be friends, you know." 1 "Not at all!" she said, coldly. 1am rtftJ absolutely sure that we shall never V* neree. Better begin as we shall surely

if' "You dislike me?" "I have said so," she answered, turning the leaf. "And why? Because I have baen unfortunate enough to have unwittingly offended you?"

Miss

Romero, I

ardon," Jerome said, ..to the window, to of Erin," in most

whistle the '^MHrioo^H^il the train pufied distracting discord, m.

Jerome sat by the library rtween his lips, his hands'clasped ,1 .iseyes almost closed.

He was listening to a story which interested him. A younger man was also sitting by the Are, a cane in his hand, and his chin ^resting on the top of ^it. He" was a very idsome young fellow, and the firelight, ing on his head turned his hair to and made the intense, earnest blue black.- •x loved her from^the beginning," ly. "Througli'BiL-the past Months I have loved Marion su8W_ "|bw I will tell h?r of it, with your per-

seem

Mission, and learn mv fate. Better ulti as-te rejection than this suspense, "Ned Buffington, vou love my ward?" r-ome asked, cal^kj and no evidence

I hi* hearWforiKr^ating like a boy's k°t^eP^Wr Grocers lion love hetT^_—^say I BAIT do! Upon rflSBphpnY 1" Ned rell&a. "That, surel^g"f't-not strange. *^5"uld a man, seeing her^^tantly, as ~iave done, not lose nis hearrio her?"

"You know, of course, that she was left 'a fortune?" Jerome asked again, in the same quiet way. "I have heard 60. Perhaps, indeed, it is the only thing to be regretted, for I

Jove her, and have abundance for both," Ned answered regretfully. Her guardian stood up, add his face was very pale. "It is no longer to be regretted. Marion r! In the recent failure she

All!" the young fellow echoed, and N-e was silence. PllrjVIarion is very proud," Jerome con-

If she knew that she was not absoladiesy independent of my bounty I be-

'""V

she would not stay an hour longer

fillfLth this roof. But, poor child, she k{l,( Jnever know at least, until after she WJl/fvcn married." deep, exprej^ive voice ceased with

GSt prl-etful ring, nd then he concluded,

lyou

ad al

which

success in your

his hand and left the room, few momepts Jerome fol-

lethe fire glowed noisily in the wind howled and the quiet Viiibroken then the heavy velbls were drawn back, and Marion

stepped out from behind. Her faceWpw'.pa pallid as a ghost's, her dark eyes were burning

witb

fierce pride

and very angry her lips were trembling ^ith excitement and suppressed resent-

prettier picture of eufpd pride could

Great heaven I" she cried, with a passionate stamp. "What deceit! How often have I hurled the fact in his face that I was glad, infinitely glad, that I owed him nothing. He calmly heard me, knowing that it was a beggar's delusion he was listening to She paused^ and her flashing eyes turned on tne chair he had lately occupied. "How he detests me, too," she said. "I have never tried to win his favor —we have never been friendly, and to think that for weeks past, and perhaps months, I have eaten his bread and spent his money, thinking it entirely my own. But it is over—I shall not stay. In. the wide world there is surely room forme to earn my bread."

lsior

She drew back the curtain and looted out. The stars were shining frostily, but the wild March wind was making havoc of every stray leaf and fragment in its path.

The streets were d^perted. It was an unusually bitter night of that blusterous month, a" night when humanity keeps its head, snail-like, indoors, when the crackle of a bright fire is the sweetest sound on earth,

Marion, with a little shiver, turns away. "I must go!" she muttered not another night will I stay here a beggar on his bounty. Old Mrs. Chaplin,though she is poor, will keep me for my mothers sake until I get something to do and pay her back." She paused a second by Jerome's arm-chair, and leaned her arm on the back of it "I wish—I wish he did not dislike me 30,"'she whispered,and the tears tempted the luster of her ^es. "It was my abominable temper at first, and now he is tired of me, and would gladly marry me to the first coxcomb that asks."

This mood only lasted a second, and all their fierceness returned. "But jrhat am I doing?" she said, dashing away the tears and trying to control her quivering lips. "Do I not hate this man—this superior being that treats me as a child? Am I not glad by accident I learned the truth of my position? Certainly 'Am I not delighted at the pos-1 nihility of feeling independent, away' from his benevolent smile? Lam and the time will come when Jerome Vann will wonder that he ever laughed at me or my vagaries."

All the warm southern nature aroused, she went to the desk and began to write a note to this detested guardian. "Sir," it dashed off, "ten minutes since I learned my position in your house, and it is such an undesirable one that I renounce it this night. You who have disapproved of me so strongly, willuo doubt be glad to learn that I have broken from your reins and fled. Good night and good by to you, sir. MABION. »p. S.—I distinctly and emphatically refuse to marry Mr. I^uffington.'

An hour later she was on the street, the wind blowing her cloak, and twisting her veil till it looked like a signal of distress.

There was nothing of the heroine about her as she hurried along, keeping on the darkest side of the street, her head lowered and her tears falling thick and fast. Poor Marion! The first touch pf the world in which she stood alone was cold and blustery.

The weeks past on by leaden feet. Advertisements and detectives were both of no avail, and Jerbme Vann'i face grew strangely old and sad, for Marion's whereabouts still remained a mystery.

He loved her far more than he ever realized. He longed to see that spirited, magnetic face again, and to hear that pert merry voice which had ina,de such drollery of his well-meant advice.

Day after day passed, each one an exact repetition of the preceding one, and all very weiry, sickening blanks to the rich lawyer in his stately home.

It was June. Sunny, soft weather reigned in the city. Roses,bloomed everywhere, in florist's windows, in market carts, in wealthy gardens—everywhere the fragrant bunches of different hued flowers waived in the breeze.

Jerome was standing at his library window, looking out at the throng of promenaders and open carriages dashing along. His eyes were no longer filled with suspense, they were far worse—calm and hopeless.

He had left nothing untried to discover her whereabouts, and it had all been worse than useless. He had been beating his heart out with pain, in alternate hope and failure, in passionate longing, and now all was over. Without any renewed vigor he was still deep in professional duties, trying, but vainly, to take_ up ths thread of existence as though Marion had never been known and dearly loved.

He took up his hat and cane and wept out His steps led him to Broadway. The thoroughfare was crowded and he walked Blowly along, his moody face, with its quietly bitter expression, in marked contrast to those around him.

Many saw and envied the rich and successful lawyers. Could they but have read that rich man's heart! And so, in the supreme blindness of our egregious vanity, do we judge one another.

He paused to look at & picture which attracted a number of people. It was a quaint design in water colors, in the shape of a small screen.

The picture showed the sea on a stormy day, with the floating spars and masts of a wrecked ship appearing above the an^ry waves in the distance. All the coloring of the picture is centered ur jtwo figures on the shore.

One, the dead body of a drowned sailor curls lying on his forehead, eyes closed, and his blue jacket torn, showing the powerful chest in which the heart would never beat again. The other, a young girl with a face of extreme loveliness, though convulsed with anguish.

Her dress denoted that she was a fisher lass, and as she bent over the body of hpr lover, one hand over his heart, the other holding on the little black hood she wore, the expression of her eyes was strangely real and touching. The subject was an old one, yet this little water-color sketch held a quaint, original power of its owfa.

Jerome looked at it, puzzled and fasclated. There was a 6trange resemblance in the man to some one he had known nnv more. With wondering eyes he rethat it was

He wentioT tne same time and follow

thTwoT.a 8ma1,1

perfect likeness of

the store and bought it, at the artist's addirection with

SPened the^'oor affi^gv-no Shabby, clCTuipK^-

She turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway. Without a start or a sound, or any change of features except the tightning of her lips, she rose to her feet.

Jerome came forward and took the feverish, unresisting hand in his. What would he say? In what words express the suffering of the past weary months? She was before him how, and the wild, impassionate torrent he had imagined bursting from his lips at this moment had completely deserted him.

When he spoke at last, the words were commonplace enough, but they covered the entire ground. "I never thought to see you again, Marion but I have found yon." "And you really remember me so long?" she asked, with a flash of something like the old defiance.

The expression which came into his eyes answered her, and he took the picture from its wrappings. "This led me to you," he said, with impressive tenderness, "and it also told me that you remembered me so long."

Marion flushed and turned away, but she could not deny it The proof wa« there.

Jerome drew her to his faithful heart, which had suffered many a bitter jthrob for little love, and kissed her with heartfelt earnestness.

Thus peace was declared betw forever. A week later they were mam Chapin'8 little front room,, an Canadian tour, Marion settled home in anew character..,

street

inerch&ii

P»»t

inquiring at the rPnt? describe!.

it Jerome advanced hesiuS^tfit10lne5 stood on the threshold looking though his hungry eyes would never bo tired gazing at the picture he" sag Acre.

Marion, in a plain black dress, was ting at an easel, the brush lying idle her lan, and her eyes turned languidl toward the open window^ through whicl the sunbeams were straying.

Her figure looked very slight, and out of the pale face her eyes shone with unhealthy luster.

WOMEN OP FASHION

Samples ot Society Qae*as in the Upp*r Walks ot New Turk City. New York Correspondence to duca^u 'Eribtine.

On my desk before me is an open visiting book, in which are many names of the fashionable women of New York City —the book itself belongs to one of these dreadful creatures, who loaned it to me. Here on the first page sure "Astors, AspinWalls, Armitages, Appletons, Armstrongs," and as I glance at the different pages 1 see those of "Vaderbilts," Tomeroys," "Stevens," "Rhinelanders," ''Whitney," "Tournure," Clews," "Van Eenssalaer," "Havemeyer," "Jewett," and scores of others equally as well and as generally known, fcnd all admitted to be "fashionable women."- How dojhey resemble the creature so denounced by preacher, lawyer, and physicians? They certainly go to balls and attend operas they likewise make calls and join in the festive kettledrum. They dre® like princesses, and during the gay season,- for about six weeks each year, there is scarcely an evening in which they are not either entertaining or being. entertained. Their' names appear as patronesses of ball* and kirmesses, or carnival and cotillon, and no one pretends to deny that they are fashionable women.

The lives of any three of these ladies will serve as a description of the rest. Take Mrs. Astor, Mrs. Havemeyer and Mrs. Stevens for examples, all distinctly fashionable, but each one representing.a different type of worldliness, inasmuch as they were born and reared under

very

dissimilar conditions. Mrs.

The Be?nl,rn,er,

As"

tor is an American aristocrat, and comes from aristocrats for generations back. She is the daughter and granddaughter of fashionable women. Mrs. Stevens was_ a poor girl, au$ assisted her. husband in making his fortune. Mrs. Havemeyer is an Australian by birth, and comes of a noble old family, whose women "for centuries have been of the world worldly. Here, then, are three types of fashionable women surely enough to judge by. When Mrs. Astor married her husband she had been a belle for several seasons. Her mother was one before her, and probably her grandmother, but ihey all havebeen good wives,devoted and excellent mothere, constant friends to the poor and needy, benefactresses to numberless men and women, supporters of the best of ir public institutions, and not supporters in the wky of funds alone but personally interesting themselves in countless charities. Mrs. Astor's face is well known and well beloved at hospital and refuge. If her carriage takes her to the opera and ball it may also be seen before the door of asylum and home. She has been a fashionable woman all her life, but it has never prevented her from doing her duty to her husband and family. Her daughters have grown up by her side, and have gone from their mother's protection' to the homes they have chosen, to be in their turn fashionable women, but at the same time loyal, honest wives, tender and sensible mothers.

Mrs. Stevens' mother was a hard-work-ing and uneducated woman, a good and faithful wife, and as good and sensible a mother as her lights would permit her to be, but her lights were not the luminous burners of a patrician household, but the feeble flicker of the humble candle therefore she brought less intelligence to the bringing up of the daughters, and they are of a less noble type, as a result, but they are good women, and if Mrs. Stevens' sudden accession to4 her large estate has caused her to do some foolish things, discussable from a certain standpoint, no one has ever thought of calling her other thanjhonest wife and fond mother. Her foibles all the world knows of. Her charities are twenty to her every weakness, but these we hear little of. Mrs. Steven's daughter could easily have married a high-sounding title, and she did choose an Englishman for a husband, but she chose him because she loved him, and had he been an American or a Greek, she would have marrit him, because, as she told a friend who had asked her why she did not wed an earl who had demanded her hand, "she did not believe in marriage except for love."

Mrs. Havemeyer, the beautiful Aus-trian-American, is a woman about whom it L? difficult to speak without laying one's self open to criticism for a "gushing newspaper correspondent." A fashionable girl, a beauty, and a belle, she married her husband for love alone. She had money as well as he she has eight rr nine of the most winsome, bonny little children one could see. The eldest does not look over 12, possibly he is 14 from that down to a baby in the nurse's arms they are the jolliest little band in New York. Mrs. Havemeyer drives an enormous landau, and one rarely sees her establishment that it does not contain half a dozen little girls and boys, all the very personification of happiness and good nature. I think anyone of these ladies would smile if shown the accepted definition of the "fashionable woman," and it were suggestive that in any way, mentally, morally or physically, was a prototype. There are such women, more is the pity, and the aim and object of their lives (if so empty an existence may be said to contain an object or an aim) is to .be considered "fashionable." They are not the wives or daughters of our Astors, of our Vanderbilt, of our Havemevers, or our Aspinwalls, but usually the indolent offspring of illiterate parents, with whose lately acquired wealth comes a desire to give their progeny the benefit of a "first-class education." The ambition is laudable enough, but usually the girl has had no mental discipline at home, she has never learned to apply herself in fact, her mental powers have never been stirred enough to make her feel ever so slightly the delight of acquiring knowledge, nor has she ever in the smallest degree telt the pleasurable excitement of tne student, which begins on the well-remembered day on which he feels he has conquered the demon, idleness, and that the hitherto dreaded task will henceforth be easily done, because he knows finally how to study. Who does not recollect that moment, when suddenly, after many struggles, a final heroic effort resulted in a triumphant mastery of the difficult lesson, and when in the exhilaration of the hour it seemed as though nothing could ever daunt us again, when we literally lelt the world of wisdom our own particular oyster, and ourselves endowed with unlimited capacthe opening of the same?

rful Thought-Reading. irrespondent of the Lonthat Mr. Stuart

I5)

don

Standard

the ined

Ilia

^extraordinary

GumberwT ^JdosjKl into a Oik Aougllt-rea ^erforna^feifS'.aod

Episcopal Monks.

Bochtster Democrat and Chronicle. The action of Assistant Bishop Potter, of New York, in consenting to establish a monastic order in the Episcopal church is variously commented upon by the Episcopal clergy. The assumption of a monastic life by the son of Bishop Huntington indicates that the high church party has finally decided to go in thatairection. It is probable that the event will still further separate the adherents of high and low churcn. The low churchmen are inclined to be outspoken in regard to the matter, and several clergymen in New York have expressed the opinion that the Assistant Bishop has sanctioned the return of an outgrown system.

Why Gresham is on the Bench. Judge Gresham, while sitting in the lobby of the Palmer House, Chicago, the other day,said "I prefer the active practy* of the Jaf but my health will not allcux we The tioe. I came out of tM6e indisputa^ Iproota oi as it would

Mr.

W-

own nuna to tolwT

next'visit to the dark eontment011^® Cumberland was successful—firsts in a*! ing on Mr. Stanle parture, and the route his public performances, Mr. Cumberland handed over the receipts, amounting to 2,000 marks, for the sick poor of Benin.

a°1")

that £he hemorrhage was in some way a sequence of my. wound. Since 1875 I have had two similar attacks, which prove to me that my residence in California did not cure me. I have been ordered by the last medical expert not to engage in any arduous or exciting speech-making, as I would endanger my life. This was the chief reason which caused me to go into the cabinet, and led me to return to the bench rather than accept offers which were made to me to accept partnerships in three law firms, each ot which has a fine paying business. This lung trouble was one of fhe reasons why I made no speeches in the late campaign outside of my address to the business men in New York.

ONE OP THE BOYS.

An OM Gentleman Betnrns to c«llece to Complete HI* Studies. Burlington, Yt, hetber.

Among the most interested and active students at the University^ of Vermont, thic term, is an old man with white hair and wrinkled face, but erect and active as any freshman. An interview with a student to-day revealed many interesting facts concerning his aged classmate, "Why, is it possible you haven't heard of him?" was the reply to the reporter's inquiry. "That's Kev. Mr. Wilder he's a rara avis, lean tell you just comeback to finish his course, which was interrupted in 1831. He was a member of the class of '22, but was obliged to leave the university on account of some trouble in his father's family." "He must be seventy-five years of

"Seventy-five! Well, I should say he was. He has just passed his eighty-third birthday but he cuts up like sixty." "What degree is*this youthful student working for?" *"I think he has not arrived at a definite conclusion himself as to that he is prospecting as it were. He visits the room of nearly every professor in the university at intervals, and makes it mighty interesting for them. lie feels young, but he has all the conceit of his years, and while in the normal attitude of a pupil he occasionally assumes the role of instructor. As a consequence the professors are often placed in embarrasbiug situations. But the old gentleman means all right he is thoroughly good at heart, and they know*it would grieve him to interfere witlAim, so rather than hurt his feelings they §ubmit quietly, and then .most of the time he is as dutiful as. could be desired, and pays the strictest attention to the study in hand. He is as enthusiastic over his work as the most ambitions boy could be and never tires of talking about it." "Where are his people, or hasn't he any friends?" "Oh, yes, he h&s chiFuen married and living in Charlottee, and he#has a sister living in Connecticut who has attained a very high social position. Mr. Wilder has lived for a number of years at Charlotte, but last fall he announced Bis attention of coming to the university to complete his course. His wife, who I think is his third, Went to California on account of her health. I understand he has had a great deal of sickness and trouble in his family. After his wife went west Mr. Wilder came here and engaged rooms and board, and has been here ever

£face.

He is conscientious and

all that, but he can stand more harmless fun than any boy in the university. He is sure to be present at every entertainment that comes along, and if there are any games he is the foremost and the most enthusiastic participant. The young folks take pains to see that he has every opportunity for eiyoying himself, and he does it, too. Why, the other night he took in two church socials running, and came out as spry as a bird. At one of them they played drop the handkerchief, and he was the liveliest player in the game. Then, too, he very frequently visits the rink. There is to be a grand march at the rink to-night I'll warrant you he'll be there, and if you want to see him skate just drop around."

TBE GIDDY -WALTZ.

Amerleans Are Too Hasty in This as In Almost Everything Else They Undertake. "National characteristics are nowhere more plainly shown," says a dancing teacher, in the Philadelphia Times, "than in the manner of dancing the waltz. The American, with that nervous haste and reckless dash which is so apparent in his manner of doing almost everything, rushes at it pell-mell, and dances it as rapidly as though he had made a wager to make so many turns in so many minutes. The German, on the other hand, of a slow, phlegmatic temperament, carefully considering everytMng before he does it, waltzes as slowly as he thinks, and hence is a much smoother, more graceful exponent of the waltz than the American. Excellent waltzers as are the Germans, however, they are outdone by the Austrians. Austria seems particularly the home of the waltz. The similarity of its people to the Germans are tinged with just enough French vivacity to give more piquancy and gi ace to their dancing than can be claimed for that of their Teutonic neighbors, while there is a dreamy element in their composition which makes their waltzing the very poetry of motion. Australians are proud of their waltzing as are the Russians of theirs of riding, and it Li this great national fondness for the waltz which has made Austria the birthplace of the most noted composers* of waltz' music— Lanner the two great writers who have borne the name of Johann Strauss, father and son Edourd Strauss and Waldteufel—men who may have been said to have written the waltz music of the entire world. "The American manner of waltzing is all wrong. The waltz is essentially a slow dance. The three-four time in which waltz music is written sufficiently indicates this. To dance it rapidly, as is done in this country, is to deprive it of all its natural delicacy and grace. Sometimes, however, in Germany and Austria the same waltz is danced both slowly and rapidly. Thus,.the musk is slow at first, but gradually grows quicker and quicker until the dancers are whirling as rapidly as they can, and then it gradually grows slower and slower, until it dies away &Utogether."

Make Way for the Old Lady. London Truth. Last Tuesday afternoon her majesty came to London to visit Jhe duchess of Cambridge, the trip having been suddenly arranged at an hour's notice. The extravagant precautions were taken dington (by orders sent from Wind-

SSsgcure privacy for her majesty, and tiftM&Jiuite as thorough a clear-

HourStXi Africa, iuui Tr,.i and toow&iiuite as tnorougn a cieardch MTStlpKere Eere B&n&g the streets of own mind to ho?

.I.- "".""low on hi. ti.. being on the erempttaye-

!"W

THE EXPRESS, TifiKBE HAUTE, SUKDAY JAmrABT 11 1885.

f[usky,

daughter went

...

nienceof the gone to meet friends wh?pS2»oS by the trains then due trains arrived the passengers who by them were rushed away almost they could obtain their luggage.

A Color-Line War.

Washington Bepablican. John B. Lynch, who served in congress, and presided temporarily over the Chicago convention, last June, has, it is said, a sub-division of the color-line war right in his family. He is himself a very light mulatto, but ha* just married a girl named Ella Summerville, who is lighter yet, in Washington. The girl's sister, who works in the government printing office, frowned upon Ella for mariying a negro, and the funny upshot was the issuing of two sets of invitations to the wedding, one for the darker friends of Lynch to the

ceremony itself'and one to the

lighter friends of the girl to a reception afterward. Tho whole social w^rld of color in Washington is nattwJly in a state of mind about thp-^^fe guests of 1

T^filarsliall, Tnesdaj.

Uncft, Mar^emper celebrated hia?00™®, enty-ninth {birthday Wednesday iridd his usual good health and jovial

GOOO-BYK, OHOST. mother^ But there were othere, of whom I was one, who displeased A Bplrlt That HM an Aversion to Being

Shot At.

Philadelphia Inqnirar. The ghost which terrified occupants of

houses on Twenty-firet street and Windsor square, between Brown and Parrish, for

about

two months, has disappeared sinee last Tuesday morning. On that eventful occasion, about 4 a. m., he fell in with Private Watchman Colton, who guards the neighborhood, and Policeman Billy Hamilton, of the Ninth district

The ghost is said to be seven feet high, and, on the various occasions he was seen, wore a suit of clothes^ with his head tied up in a 6heet •This spectral figure was enough to take the breath of even a Ninth street policeman, and nobody expressed desire to cultivate the ghost's acquaintance.

On last Tuesday morning it was clear and cold. Officer Hamilton and the private watchman were chatting ou the corner, when they heard a strange noise like 6ome one throwing an empty box down.lt made them feel queer, and somehow they came to the spontaneous conclusion that it must be the ghost

The valiant custodians staged off at once on a search, Watchman Colton walking up Windsor Square and Officer Hamilton through the alley between the houses on Windsir Square and Twenty-first street

When the watchman reached Parrish street his hair stood on end by a» sudden and blood-chilling sight Out of the alley walked the "seven foot ghost" The watchman whipped cult his revolver, and the ghost kept throwing his arms about him in a see-saw motion, evidently trying to warm his hands.

Bang! bang! bang! went the watchman's shooter in quick succession, and away went the ghost down Parrish street and up Corinthi in avenue, until his white, spectral form was lost in the shades of the night The watchman aimed low, so as not to hurt the ghost in case he hit him, but Officer Hamilton, who is a short, stout man, came very near falling a victim to the watchman's bullets.

Since then the gKost has retired to a sort of a quiet's elusion. He is said to have nearly scared the life out of a man by crouching underneath a wagon one night in the neighborhood of TwentySixth and Thompson streets. The theories about the ghost are conflicting. Some say he is a sonambulist, others a crazy man, and others that he is someone seeking to depreciate the value of house rents in the neighborhood.

In all probability, if the ghost falls in with Officer Hamilton and Watchman Colton in any of his future wanderings, there will be a case for the hospital or the morgue.

CAM^IES COMMIT SUICIDE.

A Fire in an Adjoining House Causes Many Birds to Kill Themselves. New Ifork World.

There was a panic among the birds in Paine's aviary, No. 356 Fulton street, Friday night. More than 200 birds of all varieties are caged in the little store, and so great was the excitement among the feathered beauties that they beat their heads against the bars of their cages, almost split their throats screaming, and not a few committed suicide.

Afire in the establishment next door was the cause of the unusual commotion, though little damage was done, the flames merely scorching the woodwork and the smoke barely penetrating to where the Dirds were. But even these slight indications of fire drove the birds nearly crazy. They seemed to fully realize their danger and were as eager to get to the open air as if they were a packed theatrical audience. The parrots screamed hoarsely, the cockatoos screeched and the thrushes and canaries kept up a continuous twittering and chirping. Many of the canaries, the dealer said, went into hysterics and were found next morning dead on the bottom'of their cages—frightened to death. Other birds squeezed be^ tween the bars of their cages and so hanged themselves until suffocated, and the thrushes tried to hide in the water of their bathing cups. Nearly all refused *to eat yesterday morning and quite a number were carried away dead.

MIRACULOUS CURES.

Excitement In Catholic Circles at Wheeling, W. Va.—The Reports. .Wheeling, W. Va., Special.

Considerable excitement exists in Catholic circles in this city over a series of miraculous cures said to have been wrought by mortar taken from the chapel of Knock, County Mayo Ireland. This chapel was built in 1880. During the dedication ceremonies it is asserted that the Virgin Mary was present, accompanied by St. John and St. Joseph, and all the people in the congregation who were ill or lame were at once made whole. -Since that time thousands have visited the chapel and Jiave been healed. Bishop Kain, of the bishopric, visited the chapel two years ago, and spoke in it. He siys there is about.the altar a pile of crutches two yards high, left by lame ppople who have been restored. A box of mortar from the walls of the church was sent to Martin Thornton, of this city. He applied a portion of it to a cancerous growth on his face, and it disappeared. Two weeks ago MissOwings, a bright young lady, was given up to die of rheumatism. After the sacrament had been administered, and while the mass for the dying was being said, she arose perfectly whole, and is now able to

anywhere. A yojpg son of J. Mca business man. is also said to have been cured of a grievous injury sustained in a fall. The wife of a prominent city official is said to have been cured of rheumatism, by the use of the mortar.

Women Who Speculate

Rochester Democrat and Chronicle. There is a a large number of women who love to dabble in stocks, because it affords the excitement of the gaming ta ble without its reproach. The women in the Ewen cotton pool are the most recent instances. Some of these female speculators are actresses who have made a hit, and being in funds, are easily led to speculate. The 'dramatic profession is generally gullible, an instance of which is found as far back as John Gray, who in 172$, wrote the Beggar* ©pera. He cleared £2,000 by this play, whicn was thon the largest sum ever made by any dramatist, but he had it all in the "South Sea bubble." The .women above referred to are not so easily managed as the men, for when ajwoman is on thejalert she is always sharper than a man. Hence their own sex is often employed in this inveigling business. They can call on the female sex without exciting suspicion, and can carry on financial negotiations in an adroit manner. There are multitudes of women in this city whose first glance at a aper is the stock report, tend who can iscourse on the bubbles of the day in a acile manner.

is within this marhla mainder being in Germ:

A Class In

Clara Belle in It is an aofinty. knows hoM

every womf

iockeddisgracefully

Cottage.

MUipOMiloI

Scr*Pe

men named Bi

partly^ kvinS*tCoal. MB1*'' John &ed twi.) and the secont'j .Tbe-

has

yet remains inl

Mr. John

Athens is

Dr. !®I|J though said to be the most he calls it a cottage. It square mansion, of the best Pentelli ble, crowned with marble statues of whole Olympic host, in groups of two or three. The front has & deep portico set in each story, while the plain molding between the two stories contains, in Targe Greek letters, the inscription Marathon." The interior consists of spacious rooms, "w ith marble flo ceilings frescoed richly with illus from Grecian mythology PaJ^Handlin*. collections of antiquities

objects and

the acquirement of culture in baby tending until such time a» the knowledge should become of practical value.

A ROMANCE OP XdE CAPITOL.

The Uniform of !ttag»achn«ett»»^'dler Fonnd In a Sec!ud Kook. Washington Special.

There seems to be an endless amount of material about the Capitol of the United States for a romance, or a series of them for that matter. It was only the other day that I heard of an incident that occurred during the war that would certainly give a romance writer at least a good suggestion. The" Capitol is the growth of years, almost a century of work, upon different plans and under the direction of many minds. The result is that there is such a perfect labyrinth of corndors and out-of-the-way places within^ its walls that one may be about the Capitol for years without learning all the places in this rambling building.

This much of an explanation is necessary in order to appreciate the remarkable story told by John Chauncey, who has been in the constant employment of the house for the last twenty-seven years. In ransacking one of the upper nooks of the house side of this building the other day Chauncey came upon an out-of-the-way coriier beyond one of the most crooked turns in the rarely visited regions cf the reserve records of the house document room. Chauncey, who knows more about the building than any other man in it, in his wandering about "that morning came into a corner which he had not visited since the war. As he entered the long-forgotten nook he was surprised by the sight of a military uniforai stretched out upon the floor. A gun and the accoutrements of a private soldier of the army of the United States were in one corner. The uniform was in very fair condition, although badly moth-eaten. It lay upon the floor as if it had been hastily stripped off by its owner. But how had it come there? John Chauncey could not for a few moments tell, but soon he remembered that during the war the Capitol building was used as a barracks for soldiers. The house of representatives itself was used as a hospital. A soldier who belonged to a Massachusetts regiment, who had partially recovered from a wound, was employed for sentry Thity in the upper part cf the hall. One night he wandered off to this out-of-the-way corner, where he experi enced a sudden relapse. The old wound broke out and he died in this corner alone. His body was not discovered for several days. He wap charged up as a deserter. When his body was finally discovered his uniform-was taken off and the remains carried out From the day that the body was carried away until John Chauncey walked into his corner, twenty years afterwards, no one had visited the place where the poor soldier died. If the odor of the decaying body had not penetrated to one of the-upper store rooms of the house document rooms into which invalids had been carried it might not been found unttl the uniform was discovered. John Chauncey would have found instead of what he did a grinning skeleton, in full uniform stretched out in this dusty corner. What a story that would have made! The accoutrements of this Massachusetts private are in the journal clerk's office bow. •(i': A Some Idea of the Congo Trade, Philadelphia Times.

What is the use of wasting time on the beggarly Spaniards and their trade if onehalf what is said of Stanley's Congo country is true. The Congo river itself has a direct navigable length of 1,000 miles, flowing through a valley providing 5,000 miles of available commerce. The population is 90,000,000 people. There is gold and silver, copper and iron, forests, gems, spices, cottons and*, all the elements of enormous wealth. Stanley says of this wonderful and rich region, heretofore hidden from the gaze of the world, that it has 10,000 miles of river banks that his only weapon of defense in journeying up and down 9,000 miles of the banks for six years was an umbrella. The value of the trade of the Lower Congo is about $15,000 annually of the Upper Congo, jf equally developed, it would be $350,000,000. The present articles of commerce are ivory, gum, coral, India-rubber, orcbel weed, ground cammood, coffee, nutmegs, copper, etc. Stanley has rendered services which, if utilized, will place him higher up in history than were he the slayer of tens of thousands of men.

Anxions to be a Nam

Philadelphia Press.

Mrs. Bonaparte is authority for the statement, again renewed, that her daughter, by a former marriage, Miss Constance Edgar, will shortly enter a convent, in pursuance of tbe bent of her religious convictions. She graduated at the Georgetown convent last June with high honors, and in order to test and, if possible, dissipate her predilection toward conventional life, Col. and Mrs. Bonapaite took her to Newport for the season, and also formed a plan for continental travel and sojourn with her. This, plan has now been abandoned, and it is said she will assume her initial vows not later than Easter. This young lady, through her mother, is a great-granddaughter of Daniel Webster.

A Millionaire in Homeepnn. New York Letter in St Paul Pioneer-Press. I-know another example of great wealth—and I might allude to him as an awful example—I refer to Joseph Rich-ardson,-a wealthy contractor here, knowh to everybody as "Uncle Jo." He is now building the extension of the Grand Central depot As he hurries about his S?ork—he always hurries—he looks like some old-fashioned miller, belated with a country grist. Uncle Jo is worth, probably, some five or six millions, but he once boasted, in my hearing, that he never paid more than $12 for a suit of clothes in his life. He is seventy-five years old this winter, I think, but he never bought himself an overcoat in his life.

The Original Weller.

Boston Advertiser. An interesting character has lately died near London at the age of 65, whose name and intimacy with Charles Dickens led to the belief that his patronymic suggested that one of the novelist's most noted personages. This was Capt. Charles, Weller, whose granddaughtei, Miss Elizabeth Thompson, now Mrs. Butler, has become so famous as a military painter. Dickens' intimacy with Capt Weller did not begin till aft& the publication of Pickwick, and was induced by the fact that he bore a name identified with such a prominent character in that novel.

roy

the re-

iquirer.

ile theory that no man cajry a baby, and that does.. The first proposition but die second is only

with their gice, firara weekljr .shot «tn

A Prehistoric Armorer. M. Saillard, the archaeologist, has discovered the workshop of a prehistoric armorer, or smith, on a steep rock by sea, on the southwest side of the sula of Quiberon (Brittany). IjjKffBea repfrorn the stone age. Pol isheyjPfin every row-heads, axes and otherjiB^f the diseovresented in great nujaJP^'a8mufh as the of manufacta^Px0 ^3^.8.me,thod the objects is also a _^tone worked into au implement. ciweton of the workman was also nd, the skull being very well preserved.

The Value of a Ton of Gold. Mechanical Engineer. One ton (2,000 pounds avoirdupois) of gold or silver contains 29,163 troy ounces, and, therefore, a ton of pure gold is $602,799.21, and a ton of silver, $37,704.84.

A cubic foot of pure gold weighs 1,218.75 pounds avoirdupois a cubic foot of pure silver weighs 655.23 pounds avoirdupois.

One million dollars gold .(Join 'weighs 3,684.3 pounds avoirdupois $1,000,000 silver coin weighs 58,"yaidfi .a voir-

VITKA

he sabjectso thoroughly that it screamed,' How th-e People who Figured Pr©unland endeavored to burst all the blood vessels in his

purple face. I

that I would defer

U'S ijAST CURSE

w«otJy at the, A»»a»»tn'» Trial Prosper Cadet the l.ejsacy Which He Lott Upon

Washington Special. For some weeks past

a paragraph hae

been floating about the country setting forth the fact that Goiteau's curse which he pronounced upon the scaffold has fallen with baneful effect upon a number of those who ^Here connected with his trial and exe-

Last evening the Daily News corthe attention of Gen'er^the warden of the jail, to

the artiSf^ and asked him how much truth there wv in 'the statement "It is mtterly without 'foundation, and is as flimsy and unsubewutial a figment of the imagination as coultt. well be rdevised," replied the general.

There were proba

bly fifty persons more or Itss directly connected with Guiteau's imprisonment Nineteen of these were the guards and prison attaches where Guiteari was confined. Twelve were members of the jury, and die remainder, including Judge Cox, were officers of the court, government counsel, and others. Three of these genuemen have died since the hanging of Guiteau, bat when it is remembered that most of these people were men-of middle age or even older, it is a matter of surprise that so few should in the course of nature have passed away. Policeman Fowler has been mentioned as one upon whom the curse has fallen with particular violence, Fowler was killed a few months ago by a prisoner whom he was attempting to arrest As a matter of-fact he haa no more to do with the trial than any one of a dozen newspaper men who were present from day to day. He was sometimes detailed for duty at the "courtroom, but beyond that had no connection whatever with the proceedings. Dr. Noble Young, the jail physician, who died recently, is another victim. Dr. Young died calmly in his bed at the advanced age of 82 years, and the only wonder is that he lived so long, as he had been a constant sufferer from kidney troubles for the past decade, 'the last of these alleged unfortunates is Juror Pettibone, but, as you may remember, Pettibone was sick during the course of the trial, and a postponement occurred several times on his account. His death, which followed a few months later{'can hardly be coupled with any curse Guiteau might have uttered." "Does it not appear to you, general," interrupted the correspondent, "that, so far ffom the people who surrounded Guiteau being cursed, the very opposite proves to the case?" "That is the very suggestion I was go ing to make. Col. Corkhill, the United States district attorney who had charge of the case, has fallen heir within the past eighteen months to a fortune variously estimated at from $70,000 to $100,000, and is to-day more prosperous and wealthy than ever before. His assistants, Messrs. Davidge and Porter, are well and happy and enjoy a large practice iu this city and New York. Sergeant Mason, who attempted to kill Guiteau by firing into his cell and in fact narrowly missing the assassin, is living in peace and retirement on his farm in Virginia, purchased with the $7,000 contribution which was raised by voluntary subscription during his confinement in the Albany penitentiary. Prior to this Mason had drawn a salary ol $17 a month as under sergeant in the regular army, while his wile had helped to support the family by taking in washing and performing otl»er menial, services. They are rich to-day beyond their wildest expectations. But for Guiteau they would still be living a hand-to-mouth existence. Bill Jones, the avenger, as he was facetiously called, who a drunken frolic also attempted Guitea^s life, pursues his vocation as a farmer just across the Maryland border, and finds great comfort in the thought that his name will be linked with tliat of the assassin of Garfield by the historian of future ages. The eleven jurymen who survive Mr. Pettibone are all leading contented and peaceful lives, and the same may be said of the prison attaches. Perry Carson, the tall, goodlooking negro who drove the prison .van from the jail to the court house, became a figure of such importance during the trial that his admiring colored friends of his district sent him as a delegate to the republican' convention at Chicago. He is now the proprietor of a flourishing liquor saloon near the Pennsylvania avenue railway station, and has a substantial sum to his credit in one of the local savings banks. He never probably earned $50 a month before the shooting. Then there is the Rev. Mr. Hicks, GuiteaU's spiritual adviser. Hicks was a sort of religiopolitico tramp. He did some good work for the president at the Chicago convention, however, and has lately been rewarded with the appointment of surveyor general of Florida. Mrs. Garfield, as you kuow, is worth half a million of dollars. President Arthur has lived to finish his term as chief magistrate, and will carry with him into retirement the respect and admiration of the nation. So you see there's nothing in Guiteau's curse.. The people who fell under his displeasure seem to have prospered, while, so far as 1 am able to judge, it has injured no one." "What disposition of Guiteau's body was made?"

Gen. Crocker, who had been talking with great glibness, began pulling his beard nervously, and when he replied did so with evident embarrassment. "I can't answer that question," he replied. "Why not?" Is there any mystery connected with it?" "There are about two other people in the world who know the place of Guiteau's burial. There are reasons why it should be kept ai»secret." "But his skeleton is said to be on exhibition at the medical museum." "If people choose to believe so, that don't prove its correctness, does it?" "No but why should you object to enlighten men?" "Men at Washington, higher and mightier than I, desire that the secret of his grave should die with those of us who performed the interment I do not think the exact place of his burial will ever be known to another living soul."

There was the same mystery about John Wilkes Booth's last renting place. Years afterward it was discovered tnathe had been buried in the basement of the United States arsenal, where the remains had been deposited in quick-lime and almost entirely destroys. Within recent years the few bones that remained were disinterred at his brother Edwin's request and now rest in the family vault or the Booths at the cemetery in Baltimore.

Col, Bowies Knife to Ited. San Antonio Dispatch.

Exhtb-

The original hunting knife of Colonel James Bowie, given to Augusta BarreraL of this city, just before the siege Alamo, is to be sent to the Neyft^p^n,

and a quarter jg^wg cutting to a sides.

Uw^wVvlSBpIlCSIvc

cepies of daily, als published ,300,000,flS'

stuap: Oof this

mounted "in a deer-horn it worn veiy much and is

vhat rusty.

Mercantile Methods la Mexico. Mexican merchaata never classify their goods. They have no system in arranging them. Silks and cotton are indiscriminately mixed on the shelves. There is no place for anything, and nothing is ever in place. Hence shopping requires the ex-1Sixteen Pages every Saturday.

ercise of a vast deal of patience. A lady went to buy a pair of gloves the other day. The clerk pulled open a drawer in which were shoes, corests, and ribbons. He found some gloves, but there being none in the box to fit, he hunted around on the sh- Ives and in the drawers until he discovered another lot.

Society Gfrls on Cratches. Washington letter. Hiss Tillie Frelinghuysen is so much improved in health as to be able to hobble down stairs on crutches and assist in some of the social duties. She will, however, probably be again a sufierer for this renewed use of the lame knee, for the will not be- well in ives

never MBs«e»ct. Price, she positively egtaej iCE&SSS'

eat. j^aaL°g

Pa.B.BCHBCFKAinr.a/ta*, Jftww

tor

iflb Will help ....

unlucky step while playing lawn tennis last summer, Spraining her ankle, from which injury she has not, to the great regret of her friendB, yet recovered.

INKLINGS.

It will be the proper thing this winter, in Washington, to leave the host's house not later than midnight.

Winter raspberries, equal to those ripened in the summer season, are selling in Los Angeles, Cal., at SO cents a pound.

Mr. Gladstone declares that in all his political Hfe he has never been kept awake bve minutes by any debate in parliament "With a pen of gold dipped in the oil

is the way the Nebraska

of gladness" is the way editor introduced his New Year's edito-

rial-

Vl'f

The light of'an electric lamp travels at the rate of 187,200 miles a second, that of the sun 186,500, and that of a petroleum lamp 186,700.

ANew Jersey girl who heard that some of her callers like mixed drinks, provided four kinds of water—rain, spring, well and melted snow.

Sweet potatoes are selling at twentyfive cents a bushel inPalatka, Fla., while can't be bought for less than cents a glass.

The deficit of the last World's exposition, held at Paris, was upward of $6,000,000, and that of Vienna, in 187$, was over,$9,000,000.

Negroes who went from Mississippi and Louisiana to Kansas, two years ago, are now drifting back. They report unfriendly treatment from their Republican friends.

A New Army Bread,

Army and Navy Journal. It is stated that Prof. Wickensheimer, of Berlin University, has succeeded, after a number of experiments, made at the request of the German war ministry, in preparing a kind of army bread, which is as fresh and edible after nine weeks' storage as on the first day of its manufacture. He has also prepared mutton so that its meat is said to be as tasty after being kept for seven and a half montlis as that of an animal freshly killed, only a little more time being required for the former in cooking it*

Philadelphia's Harbor,

Philadelphia Mews. After five years of surveys made of the harbor of Philadelphia, with a view to determine the line known as the port warden's line, beyond which there shall be no encroachments on the harbor, the limit has been definitely fixed on the course between Bridesburgand the mouth of the Schuylkill. The time and labor consumed in this work have been necessitated by the fact that this line is not an arbitrary one, but is dependent upon a study ot the currents of the river and othei^influences.

An Artistic Princess.

The crown princess of Germany is an accomplished artist, and she has been unusually busy during the past six months. Before leaving Potsdam for England she completed a large oil painting representing a landscape in tne Royal Park of Bornstadt, near Berlin, and she made a number of sketches during her stay at Balmoral and afterward in the Tyrol. The princess' Christmas ptesent to her husband is a painting of two peasants of Sarnen in their characteristic Tyroloan costume, which she accomplished during her stay at Giles.

Voodooism at-Capo Coast. Captain Barnett, District Commissioner in Cape Coast Castle, recently founA it necessary to suppress a riot in the interior by force, ana finding that it was fomented by a native priest, ordered the fetish house to be entered. He there found portions of two human bodies bak ing in a large brass pah, their owners having evidently been murdered bv blows which crushed in theii skulls. Voodooism, which now rages in Hayti, is, in fact, an old African creed, and its priests hold canniballism necessary to their rites.

Beatrice's Future Husband. Boston Herald. Princess Beatrice's betrothed is a clumsy youth on foot, but he rides a horse with much skill, and looks well when mounted. He inherits the traditions of a long line of ancestors, and, very little else. The queen gave a reluctant consent to the match, upon the condition that the youug couple should always reside near her. It is understood that one of the queen's bridal gifts to Beatrice will be the pearls of the late Lady Otlio Fitzgerald, which were privately bought by her majesty for $200,000.

THIS ATLANTIC, dependent alone on reading m»Uer for iu «\icces», it briUinnt above oil others in this respect, and never, hat been so fresh, so versatile, so genial, as it is now,—The Mterary World.

The Atlantic Monthly

For 1885

W1U be particularly noted- Its (Serial -stones, namely:--?

inE PRINCESS CASAlWAS&ItfA. BY HENRY JAMES, Author of "The Portrait of a liady," etc

II.

A COUNTRY GENTIKMAN. JBY MRS. OIHPHANT,

Author of "The Ladles Llndores," "The Wizard's Hon," etc. III. ",V THE PROPHET OF THE GREAT

H9IOKI MOUNTAIN.

BY CHARLES EGBERT CRADJDOCK, Author ef "In the Tennessee Mountains. IV.

A MARSH ISLAND.

BT SARAH ORNE JEWETT, 'S Author of "^fountry Doctor," "DeepVhven, etc.

The first of a new series of papers entitled THE NEW PORTFOLIO. BT OLIVEK WENDELL HOLMES,

Will appear in the January Atlantlo, Poems, Essay's, Stories, and Papers on Scientific,.Literarv and Social Topics may be expected f/om Oliver Wendfll Holmes, John Greenleaf Whlttier, W. D. Howells, Henry James F. Marlon Crawford, Richard Grant White,Charles Dudley Warner, Harriet W. Pres'on, Henry Cabot Lodge.' t*. Demlng, Edltb M. Thomas Though William Parsons, George Parsons rop, James Russell Lowell Maurice Thompson, Thomas Bailey Aldxwtt John Flake,Mark Twain, Charles KlfeFffOrto

Horace E. Ssudder, George W. H. Bishop, Edward l" lnil TT||illliBiSMP*1~r

ward Atkinson, I,hlUlBfi'Broo|to'f^S*^^' Beecher 8to we, LuC^H»COiai»*^r-,I^a^?t roughs, James Wentworth beth HoWnl

the

Exposition by CharlesC^he knife has a grandson of Barrer&^nches 16n^ and one curved blade, fifteej^nes wide and

sharpened

_B8 on both

4.00 a year advance, postage cents a number. With superb "-size portrait of Hawthorne, Emerson, mgfellow, Bryant, Whlttier, .Lowell, or Holmes, S500 each additional port.ralt,fl.

Postal Notes and Money are at the risk aj the sender, therefore remittances should, be made by money order, draft or registeree letter, to

HOUGHTON, DUFPLUT Sc CO 4 Park Street, Boston, BIa*a.

Merefiants,Bai]iers Manofaetnrers SHOULD BEAD

WEEKLY JOUBNAL OP TRADE, FINANCE, AND PUBLIC ECONOMY.

Oftentimes Twenty Pages. Hometlraes Twenty-four Pjges.

The foremost purpose of Bradstreet's la to be of practical service to business men. its special trade and Industrial reports lie weekly epitome of bankruptcies throughout tbe United Htates and Cana£a,aiid its summaries of assets and liabilities, are alone worth the subscription price its synopses of resent legal decisions are exceedingly valuable. As commercial transactions, In the wider sense, are coming to be more and trure conducted on a statistical basis, the in formation contained in Bradatreet's fa of the first importance" botfe to producers and middlemen.

The trade and agricultural situation throughout the United States and Canada

tytegraph to Bradstreet's

up to tbe hour of publication. A

8 ING

LHriWMKitftK B. um, af lb* MQeto*

-4

The following Letters 'were published L'l The Christian at Work, the leading religious' paper of New York, some months since. That they attracted great attention is proved by the following editorial notice which soon after appeared in that paper:— "The publisher of The Christian at Work has been asked if the letters published in this paper,"by Dr. J. H. Schenck, of Philadelphia, were genuine. In reply ne says, that his representative has seen the originals of every letter at the office of Or. Schenck, in Philadelphia." FROM P. TURNER, Jr., BINGHAMPTON, N.Y. TTFREANG, j. H. SCHENCK &

SON, Philadelphia.

Gt*Uetnen —I have concluded that it- is my duty to write you in regard to the great benefit I have received by the use of Dr. Scheack's medicines. (One and a-half years ago I was very sick with what my friends and myself believed to be Consumption of the Lungs. The disease began with a heavy cold, its. worst symptom being a dry, hacking cough, which was almost continuous night and day. Soon after this I began raising a thick yellow matter. Being exposed to all kinds of weather, by working at my trade, I caught additional cold and grew worse, until I was obliged to give'Hp all work. I atJjjy^ time had terrible pains le my lungs, au soon attacked with severVjpght-swea^y tried all the cough remedies aS^grtised lieve, before I heard of your rem© were first brought to my notice by rca your book on "Consumption and its Cur

I used all your medicines that is, the. drake Pills, Seaweed Tonio and Pulir Syrup. I felt their beneficial effects froi first. They gave me strength and they me appetite, and in a very short tim( cough was looser, and soon after disapp altogether. I began to gain flesh, too, the course of two months from begl their use, I was very near well. I am' entirely well, and, believe mo, very th that I found your medicines and took in time to save my life. I shall be please have any one call on me in regard to my

Yours truly, P. TURNER, JR., Cor. Henry and Liberty Sfcj Oct. S3,1381.

Bingbampton,

CURED OF CONSUMPTION.' PHILADELPHIA, July 16,18S2. Da. J. H. SCHENCK.

Bear Sir .—1 have be6n ve*y sick, and w3 told by several of the best physicians of thl city that I had Consumption, and could lif but a short time. I was advised by a friejf to consult you, which I did. Under--treatment I improved rapidly, and am enjoying perfect health. I expected to I my symptoms being all very bad had hei{ rhages, night-sweats, and a hacking covI believe your treatment saved my life. Pll accept my sincere thanks for all you h| done for me. Shall recommend your reme whenever I meet any one afflicted as I'

I remain ever

gratefully

and respectful^

ANNIE W. RITTENHOUSE, 848 Kurtz Street, Philadelf FROM MR. HARLEV P. HOPKINS, PRO1

DENCE, R,

HeiaGurvd of Consumption by Dr A Medicines, after being given up to some of the best Physicians of the Da. H. SCHESCK

Thar Sir:—I have ieaE jirert what of the best physicians of this city told me Consumption of the Lungs, by the use, of yo] medicines. I was first attacked with the dise in Ootober, 1880, and although I was from time continually under the care'of a physicin I grew worse and worse, until at last I was colined to my bed. I can hardly say that I first attacked with the disease in 1880, for lungs had been weak for many years provious this, and I would quite often nave severe pi in my breast, if I took the least cold or exer myself too much in any way. I grow worso, cough became very bad I had night-sweats severe that my bed, through tho night, wo» be as wet as though water hAi been thrown ovi me. I was continually raising blood and largi quantities of offensive matter from my lungs and at last had all the well-known symptoms o: Consumption in its last stages.

At the requust of my family, my physician called lc twd other doctora of this city, and tlioy, after an a animation, agreed that my case was hopeless. They informed mjr wifo that I had better be told tbat I cuuk not live, ns my timo would be very short for arranging my worldly affairs. They also said that no medlcim would be of any use to me. The next day my friend, Mr. n. I. Laith, hearing of my condition, sent me bottle of your Pulmonic Syrup, thinking it might relieve my cough, and uinke my expectoration easier I began using it, never even hoping that it would enrr me, but finding great relief from its use. When thi first bottle was gone, I sent and got more so I oo: tinned it until nod used seven or eight bottles. A, this time I was in bed and was so weak that I had be lifted. This was not a diZ&ult thing to do, howevi as I only weighed about aiijefy~Jj*aid, 1 commenced the use of the 1 thought of Its curing mo but after' bottlo 1 would sometimes f"Ota I had not before done for maifpl mention that after taking four1 Pulmonic Syrup, I also begun t# Tonic, and I also took pome of llij

It is needless for mo to give my feelings during my recover^ but it was also sure. I graduaK (J,*, character of what I raised —not being so offensive—MtmyLv Soft up and walk about tny room#f0 covery was rapid. I gainctjfc. out doors, and now I am my acquaintances who savik'V7 weigh one hundred andr good, and I can trulyseny I life. I consider your met) effects. They have saved to you that I am anxious I with lung troubles should! Of course I can give a betl telling of it than in writing, 1 are interested, they are wclcod residence. Yonrs\

No. 2 How(

May 13,1831. 11B.

HAJUST

HOPKINS,

who

letter to Dr. Schenck, of PhiladelplV, .--u of Providence. 1 have known him well fifteen year*,' and I can ussure the publlij has written la regard to his slckncss and strictly true. He wits considered a Consun the last stages of the disease, by his physic friends, and-I believe that his recovery is entire}) to the use af Sr. Scheuck's medicines.

H. LEITH, Druggist, No. 282 H. Main St, Providence, B.

On 19,1881.

FROM TOWANDAj^m

DB. J. H. SCHENCK, ,-plii, Pe Dear Sin—I was taiceBiilfcm thdl®lS of. but managed to keenjfap and at mtybgfe two years. to cease••tp—Juiess fori for over ajeagf lh4ii*hacldi«#*SH5 ^^!rk altogether] and when wea&er waa^RMHH^uush all the time, get mmvtXh. Icouldscarc*| determined to gjvjufl fmjmg of your mediclneV" JBWllO Ittinijl fiQrf^ ~r ~irm a trial. I used the nj *aome time,:jj6L^^Mnteed Tonic and Mandrake PHIsJ? liimOlllJiiw

rFHTlil

Jim.13,

W a

iJ.H. SbuegftwgsK^Hj.oiL'Clarezice Htedman, EllzabethjmujMff JB E. P. Whipple, and m—

they cured mo, and since v*:, health all the time, my lungs

rotly sound. I believe that I had Consr

have great laith In your medicines, miid urtre all who are suffering with lung col plaints to use them. Yours truly,

JAMES McINTYKE,

Iff? OF MCINTVBE

170 FZZ Establisi trstll Stint I

& Spescbb,

Carriage Manufacturers, Towandc, PO-.

DR. SCHENCK'S MEDICINES: MANDRAKE PILLS, SEAWEED TONIC, 9 0PULMONIC SYR!

Are sold by all Dmgpfsts.nnrt flill directions tj use are printed o»i the wrappers or everv His Book on Consumption, Liver Compli

Is sent free to oil, post-paid. 6 Son, Philadelphia, Pa

Tfcerelores, Phytlci CLAKKTHB coniinuosj. great %ata chronic,! diseases, tick theoldesi. las files of |r«.

old Residents know. Age &• portant. jtfl {ST* Nervous dtseasesWdreams,) or debility and Iol^I treated scientifically by new r' failing success. %&" It makesi you have taken or who has fail"?

ST Young men and midd all who suffer should consult Dr. Clarke at cnce. E^"The all bad blood 4hd skin dl* u*oie and ns'ore completely her, that one horrible du improperly treated, caraea the generations. Diseased promptly without hindranc sexes cons alt confident call or write. Delays ai",fdan^n nation la tbe thief warranty of oare lg't,7j& lndertaken.

K8flh--

CP" Send two stanipd on Chromic, Nervous

I College.

C. F. ZIMMERMAN,

Druggist. SOUTH 158T (QonNKB

THIRTEENTH BTREK™

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