Indianapolis Leader, Volume 1, Number 22, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 January 1880 — Page 3

IT MAT BE YOUR TURN NEXT.

Jodjr Dot too brthly, oh, my frUoJl Of him, jour fallow. man. But 4rw tb veil of charity About him if yon can. II ouco tu called an hont maa, Bfor nor trial telfd II stepped from out (tie narrow way It may b your turn next. fainting upon the ureal highway A uflVrlng aoul doth lie; Oovtauocb hU wound and quench hU thlr.t, Nor pan him Idly ty. Ood will not brook theiwift excuae, Tb thoughtl- vain pretext; A totIowmorUl bile the duftt It may b year turn. next. Ton heard, one day, a lngle word Agalntt a pnrton't name; Ob, bear it not from door to door, To further hart his fame. If you're the man you claim to be. Remember, theo, the text, To 'pak no II," true or fabelt maj be your turn next. Th worll it UJ enough, we own, And we may need more light; Yet, with true love to all, may we Iltlp In the caoe of right. Lift np the ilnful and the weak, Th tout by care perplexed. Well knowing that to drink the gallIt may bo our turn next. THE EMERALDS. One wintry afternoon in January, away up in the bleak attic of a wretrnea tenement houso, a pale, sad-eyed woman sat sewing. The garment upon which he was engaged was a very rich dre. The twilight closed in rapidly, with a blinding fall of snow, a bitter, wailing blat, that made the windows rattle in the cavemen U. Still thu pale-faced woman stitched on. Mother piped a sweet voice from the cot beneath the window, "shall you get the fine dress done? Oh, tay mother, I'm so hungry. If I only had some tea and a bit of sausage." She worked on steadily for a few moments paused only to brush a tear from her white cheek, then arose and shook out the glimmering robe. TU done at last," she said. "Xow mother's little girl can have her upper; only be patient a Tittle longer, Flra. Kops, Rosa, where are you, my boy?'' A manly little fellow came out from the little bedroom beyond. The fine dress is done, Rons," said his mother; "and you must run home with it as fast as you can. Mi. Gnrcie will be out of patience, I know. Tell her I couldn't finish it one moment sooner, and ask her to give you the money. We must have it to-night. And you can stop in at Mr. Ray's, as you come back, and buy some coal; and we must have some bread and tea, and a mite ot butter, and vou must get a sausage, Roe, for poor little I'lora." "I'll get them all, mother," he said, "and be back in time. You shall have big sausage, little sis," he added, turning toward the cot. The girl nodded her curly head, and her great, wistful eyes sparkled with delight. And you shall have half of it, Roäs,m she piped, in her splendid bird voice. "Iladn't you better put on your thick Ecket, my boy?" continued hia mother. The wind cuts like a knife." Phaw, little mother, I , don't mind the wind." And away he went down the creaking stairs and out into the storm. Miss Garcia Konten ay was is a perfect furore of impatience and anger. Her dear 500 friends wer assembled in the halls below and her handsome dress had not come home. "What did that beggar woman mean by disappointing her. At that moment there was a ring at the door and a voice in the hall. "Plea. tell Miss Garcia my mother could not finish it sooner; she wauts the money tonight." The servant took the handsome dreas and message. "I'll never give her another stitch of work," cried the angry beauty; "I ought to have had it three hours ago. Here, Fanchon, dress me at once there's not a minute to lose. No, I can't pay to-night I haven't time. He must call to-morrow." "But we've no fire and nothing to eat, and my little sister is 6ick," called the little boy, pushing up the grand stairway. "Shut the door, Fanchon I" commanded Miss Garcia. And the door was closed in his face. From the porch at the parlor window Pansie watched the whole scene, her violet eyes distended with childish amazement. "Poor little loy," she said, as Rosa disappeared down the stairway; "sister Garcia ought to pay him. It must be dreadful to have no fire and nothing to eat." She stood for a moment, balancing herself on the tip of one dainty foot, her rose-bud face grave and reflective; then a sudden thought flooded her blue eyes with sunshine, and snatching something from the table, she darted down stairs The servant had just closed the street door, but she fluttered past him like a humming bird and opened it. On the steps sat Ross, brave little fellow that he was, hia face in his hands, sobbing as if hia heart would break. 'What's the matter, little boy?" questioned Pansie. Ross looked up, half believing that it was the face of an angel looking down upon him through the whirling snow. Oh. I can not eo home without the money," he sobbed; "poor worked hard, and Flora is ick mother and so hungry." "Here," she said, "do take this, little boy, and bu her lots of nice things. 'Tis worth a great deal; papa bought it for my birthday present, but do you take it and welcome." She extended her dimpled hands, and something like a shower of stars sprinkled to the bov's feet. He caught it up in amaze a necklace of emeralds, lustrous, gleaming things, set in tawny, Indian gold. "io, no," he cried, running u up to where she stood. "I can't take this necklace take it back." "You shall take it," she commanded imperiously. I have lots of jewelry and fine things run home now and buy your sister something to eat." She closed the door with a bang, and Koss stood irresolute in the stormv gloom. Should he ring the bell and return the jewels to Pangie's father, or should he do as she had bid him? He thought of his mother and poor little Flora watching wistfully for his return. He could not go back and see them starve. "With a sudden feeling of desperation he thrust the glittering necklace in his pocket and dashed down the snowy street. The gaslight blazed brilliantly in a fashionable establishment, and its bland proprietor looked down inquiringly on little Koss as he approached the glittering counter. "Would you like to buy this sir?" There was a tremor in the boy's voice a he asked the question, and the hand that held the emerald necklace shook visibly. The lapidary took the gems, examining them closely for a moment, and then shot a sharp glance at the child. "See here," he said presently, his voice stern and commanding, "I want to know how you came by this?" The boy's eiear eyes fell; he flushed and stammered, evidently embarrassed. The jeweler put aside the emeralds, and taking the lad s arm led him into a small ante-room. "You are a thief, sir," he said. "That necklace belongs to Mr. Fontenay- he bought it of me not a month ago. You etole it; you are a thief." The little fellow straightened himself, and hia brown eye blazed: "I am no thief," he retorted. "A kind little girl gave it to me, and I know it was wrong to take it, Dut but my mother and sister are starving." The jeweler hesitated. Yoa don't look like a thief," he said; "but I will send for Mr. Fontenay; that will settle the matter at once." He dispatched a messenger accordingly, and Ross sat down in a corner and sobbed bitterly as he heard the driving winds and thought of his mother and poor little Flora. In half an hour Mr. Fontenay came, bring-

ing his daughter, little Pansie, with him. The little creature . darted like a humming

bird, her cheek ablaze, her eyes flashing like lightning. "He didn't steal my emeralds 1" she cried, "I gave 'em to him to sell 'em, and buy bread for his little sifter." RofS sprang to hU feet, struggling hard to keep bnjAc his tears. He put out his little brown hand, which ransie instantly clapped In her chubby palms. "I'm not a thief, sir," he said at lust, ad. dressing Mr. Fontenay; ul never stole anything in my life. I know it was wrong to take the r.ecklace -but but, sir, my little sister is starving." The merchant drew his hands across his eyes. "You're a manly little fellow," he said pitting the lad's head, "and I do not in tho least blame you, but I will take Pansie's em eralds, and she shall give you something more avauaoie. acre, x ansie, give mis to your little Inend. ' He put a gold piece into Pansio's bands, which she tendered to Ross, with the injunction that he should run straight homo and buy lots of goodies for his sister a command that he was not slow to obey. "I think we shall not lose sight of the little fellow," continued Mr. Fontenay, as Ross disappeared in the stormy darkness. Shall we, pet? Let's see what we can do to help him. He's a nromisinc voiine lad. and an honest one, I'm sure. Mr. Lenox, you're in need of aq errand bvy; why not try him? I wish you would." The jeweler consented, to Pansie great delight, and on the following day Rosa was duly installed as an errand boy in the fash ionable entabhshment. Fifteen years after, one blustering March morning, a young man sat behind the counter of a thrivirg jewelry establishment in one of the Northern cities. He was a handsome man, a traveler, a man of taste, intellect and money, for he was the junior partner in the firm, which was a prosperous one. But des pite all hia good fortune Rom Dunbar was not happy. Ilia mother and bis httln flora had gone to their long home, and he was ntterly!alone, without kith or kin in the wide world. Sitting alone one morning with the roar of tho March wind in his ears, his thoughts were mnnlnnp Vurlr t trio stuvra r f" V l a Vi wwi t his mother's humble home. How vivid the past seemed, and how dear and sacred, despite his privations and sorrows. His eyes grew dim and his heart swelled. All were gone over the wide waters of time and change. A tender smile softened his sad face as he recalled the stormy night when he sat sobbing on the steps of Mr. Fontenay' mansion. And little Pansie; the rememborance of her sweet face, as he saw it tLrough the sn reaths, haunted him constantly. In alii 15 years never for one hour, had he forgotten her. But she was rone lost to him torever. His reverie was broken by the entrance of a customer, a lady closely clothed and veiled. She approached tne counter with a jewel case in her nand. "Would you buy these?" she asked simply, n a clear sweet voice that stirred the young men's heart as no other woman's voice had power to do. He took the casket, unclosed it, and spread out its contents. A watch, elegant and coty, a diamond ring, two rubies, and an eme rald necklace. Koss Dunbar barelv suppressed a cry of surprise as his eyes fell upon it. He turned it over with eager, trembling fingers, and there on the clasp was the name that lived in his heart for so many long vears. "Little Pansie." "You wish to sell them all?" he asked striving to steady his voice and the wild throbbing of his heart. The lady hesitated an instant, and then she put out her slender hand drew the emer alds toward her. 'I dislike to part with this," she said "it was ray father's gift and and but no mat ter, take them all; I must have the money." In her eagerness she had thrown aside her veil, revealing a lily face lit by lustrous sap phire eyes. Ross Dunbar stood silent a moment, every nerve in his manly frame thriling with supreme delight. He had found her at last, the idol of his life. 'They are very fine gems, he said, after a moment, 'and I am willing to give you a air price suppose we say $1,000 will that dor The girl flashed a dazzling glance of sur prise from beneath her heavy veil. -So much as that? she said, tremulously. You are very kind, sir. Oh, you can not know how much this money will help me." The young man made a polite reply and proceeded to put aside the jewels and draw a check for the money. The March winds were still blustering without, and the girl shivered and drew her wrapper closer as she started out. "Won't you let me run down to the bank for you?" said the jeweler catching up his hat. "You can play shop lady the while; it won't be but a minute or two." "But I am troubling you so." "Not a bit; just take this warm seat, please; you'll not be likely to have any customers." And seating her beside his desk, he took the check and hurried out. Pansie Fontenay threw back her veil and leaned her head upon her hands, a puzzled, reflective look upon her sweet said face. "Where have I seen this face?" she asked herself over and over again. "It is so familiar; who in the world can it be?" His return bsoke in upon her meditation, and after receiving her money, she hurried away to her humble lodgings. The following afternoon was even more blustering and stormy; the wind roared and the sleet tinkled against the window of the little room inwhich Pansie and her father sat Severe misfortune and reverse had reduced them to poverty, and the old man being an invalid all the care fell upon Pansie's shoulders. She sat with her father reading aloud from a new book which she had bought for him with some of the money she received for her jewels, ller sweet face was wan and sad, and her future stretched before her sad, hopeless and gloomy. There is a ring at the door, and a servant brought up a package for Miss Fontenay. An exquisite bunch of pansies, fragrant and golden-hearted, done up in tissue paper, and attached to them a card, bearing the simple words: "Roes Dunbar has not forgotten little Pansie." Pansie sat amazed for a moment, and then a rich bloom darted up her white cheeks. "Oh, father," she cried, "I knew him I knew himl Oh, we have found Ross at last." An instant later Rosa was in the room, clasping her fluttering hands in his, and iDto her blue eyes looked with a glance that brought th rosy bloom to her lace. Ana a few weeks later, when the blustering winds were over, and the blue birds sang in the hedcres and the eolden-hearted pansies bloom ed on the garden borders, little Pansie became Ross Dunbar's bride, and for her bridal gift he gave her back her string of emerald. Sur Enongb, We've Noted It. New Haven Regiiter. When a young fellow begins escorting her it is amusing to notice how painstakingly he gives her the inside of the walk; at each successive street crossing he allows her to unlink his arm and he slides around her to the curbstone side as if to protect her from the midnight pirates that in fett the gutter. In later years, when married life and cross children have reduced his chivalric nature to a minimum, he humbly follows her, stepping in the hard placos she is always sure to pick out. The gentlemen at a dinner-table were discussing the familiar line, "An honest man's the noblest work of God," when a little son of the host spoke up and said: "It's not true. My mother is botter'n any man that wai ever made." It is very dangeroua for any man to find any spot on this broad globe that is sweeter to him than his home.

KtCOLXKCTIONS OF A JOUKNAM8T.

Ills First Experiment In the Profession. My first experience in the profession of t 1! f . i ! - A A journalism was in mo capacity oi u.muuui carrier. It began at dawn of a cloudless August morning, which I shall never forget, and ended two hours later. We lived in an inland city of 60,000 inhabitants, and our next door neighbors were the Holcombs. Josh Holcomb, a boy a little older than I. "carried a route In the Democrat office." as the boys phrased it. I had been playing a few games of checkers with Josh one evening when his older brother, who was learning his trade in the otflce,cvme home with a large roll or damp newspapers over his arm. Josh at once cleared the dining room table.spread them out smoothly upon it, and began to fold them with what seemed to me a marvellous rapidity, especially after I had tried it myself and found how clumsy a green hand may bo at even so simple a task. Josh spoke very modestly of his own powers, said he was never able to average more than 500 an hour, and challenged my profoundeet respect and highest admiration for a gifted son of genius in the office named Frank Renn is, who "could fold a 1,000 an hour I" I observed that Josh every now and then picked out a paper that was particularly well printed neither too much ink nor too little fold it with great care, bring the corners to an exact match, and rubbed the folds down very smooth. I supposed be want them for the top of his pile to make it look well; but what was my surprise to seo that he finally Cut these nicely folded papers at the very ottom of tho pile. " V hat in the world are those Ur7 said I. 'If you 11 go round with me in the morn ing," said Josh, "you'll see. Suppose you do?" It struck me as a rather romantic idea, and on Josh's agreement to give a long, low whistle under my window at 4 o'clock, I prom ised to be ready to start with him. I was roused in the gray of morning by Josh's whistle, and a very few minutes aftorward I was hanging byTny hands lrom the windowsill, had dropped, landing in my sis ter's flower bed, and was beside him. I might have crone out bv the door if I had wanted to, but that would have been tame and com. monplace. Josh had his bundle of papers slung under his l'ft arm by a strap that passed over his right shoulder. He gave me a dozen or two, and wo dartf-d off. We passed up the street a few rods, till we came to a high board fence, inclosing a gar di Hlied with fruit trees, thehouse being at the t --r end of thH lot, on the next street. At certain point Josh rolled away a big stone from a hollow in the ground, removed a small board which it had hald in place, put bis bundle of papers through, and then crawled under the fence himself. He explained that this was a ßhort cut to Jones street, w here his route began, and, of course, I followed him. I think the cut would have been shorter if Josh had gone straight along, instead of stopping under the peach trees to fill his Eockets. As we passed out by the front gate e observed that some one in the honse was watching us through the turned slats of a blind, and remarked that "Old Leonard was up a great deal earlier than there was any need of." "He's too stingy to take a paper," continued Josh, ''and I don't see any reason in the world for his getting out of bed before breakfast time." I suggested that perhaps the old gentleman was nervous about the fruit in the yard If he's too stingy to keep a dog," bdid Josh, "he ought to lose a few peaches now and then." This fearful picture of double-headed stinginess on the part of the venerable Leonard quieted my conscience as to any dishor.esty on the part of the avenging boy. At the next place we came to, Josh picked out one of the nicely-folded papers, walked across the street, and laid it carefully in the box beside the gate. "Is that man so very particular?" said I. "No," said Josh, "not any more particular than otherjjeople, I guess. But ho always gives me a dollar at New Year's." We turned into a long street newly built up with nouses au aiiKe. ine iences also were alike, and nearly every gate stood open across tne siaewait. ueiore we naa gone very far, Josh jumped down into the gutler where it ran beneath a crosswalk, thrust hia arm under the planks, and drew out a pistol. "What are you going to do with that?" said I. ,ä "Going to kill a dog," said Josh, examining the weapon. "He's an . awful savage fellow; bit me the other morning; at least he bit through my boot leg. But bow I'm ready for him." Presently we came to a house where a large black dog lay on the steps, hia nose on his paws, and one eye open. . "There he is!" said Josh, cocking his pis- j tol. ''Now let him come at me." j The dog watched us, apparently with considerable interest, but did not stir. 'I must fetch him this time," said Josh. "Father wouldn't let me carry the pistol if he knew it, and I can't leave it under the sidewalk every day; a rain would spoil it." He stopped before the open gate, and began talking to the dog in no very complimentary terms. "Here, you black savage," said he, "come and bite me now, will you?" The dog slowly got up, stretched himself out, and deliberately walked forward to the gate. Josh held down the pistol, and the great black beast walked unconcernedly up to it and proceeded to smell of the muzzle, in a mild spirit of investigation. "Bang!" went the pistol. "Howl!" went the dog. . Oh g-o-o-d g-r-a-cious!" went Josh, as he lifted his bleeding hand with a piece of the pistol sticking to it. We bound it up with a handkerchief, while the howling dog ran off around the house, and the sound of an opening shutter at a window above warned us to depart. We had not passed more than three houses, when a gate just ahead of us was pushed open, and another enormous black dog came out. "Great Caarl" said Josh, "I've shot the wrong dog! There's the beast that bit me!" W hat shall we do?" said I, looking about for a stone. We can't do anything," eaid Josh. 'And the rest of the people on this street must do without their papers this morning." It was now rapidly growing light, and all along the route there were signs that the town was waking up. At one place a small curly-haired man, with twinkling black eyes, who kept a confectioner's shop, had ust opened his door and was sweeping the side walk. "Be kind of quiet, now," said Josh; "I have a cooky here." Before 1 could ask him what a 'cooky" was. he had glided into the shop, followed bv the man, and I overheard a little argument between them as to whether this made nine or 13 the confectioner supporting the "nine" theory, and Josh espousing the cause of "13." The matter was finally compromised on "11" and Josh reappeared with six molasses cakes in one pocket, the other full of candy, and two apples in his hand. "I learned that a "cooky" was a customer picked up by the carrier for hia own benefit, whose name did not appear on the books of the office, and of whom the carrier received h's pay either in such merchandise as boys have uso for, or in cash at reduced rates. A little further on, where a house stood well back in the yard, with a pretty bit of lawn and considerably shrubbery in front, an old gentleman, with his spectacles turned up on the top of his head, was looking about m tne grass in a vague sort oi way. "He's alwavs out earlv after his paper.' said Josh. "Now watch his spectacles' And with that, having given an extra twist to a paper, he sent it. Off went the spectacles, spinning in mid air, and finally hung dang

ling in the top of a lilac bush, while Josh

immediately dove down the alley that led to the next street, leaving the old man to think it was all an accident. "Doesn't he givo you much at New Years?" said I. "Well," said Jih, "he's about a 10-center." The last house on tho route was a boarding house, and two young ladies, in pretty morn ing dressers were standing on the steps. "It s an old bachelor that takes the paper here," said Josh, "and he says those two old maids bother him to death by getting it every morning before he's up, and reading it till it 9 time for him to go to business. ' One of the "old maids," a Jooh and his patron called them who was apparently about 18 years of age came tripping down the walk, throwing ahead a very sweet smile at Josh as he 6tood before the gate, with the paper in his hand, slowly.rolling it up. But Joh observed something which she did not, namely: that tho blinds of a chamber window were softly opened, and, as the poet says he saw a hand she could not see a masculine band beckoning from the casement. Just aa.the smile had reached its climax, and the lady's winsome hand was extended to receive tne paper, Josh gave it a throw and sent it straight in at the open window, where the bachelor grinningly caught it on the fly rod instantly vanished from our sight. And what has since become of Josh, do you say? 1 f I must tellyou, he is now serving the State in an office to which he was elected, for a long terra, by the unanimous vote of 12 men. His daily route it shorter than it ucd to be, b4 more laborious; his window is well secured against accidonts: all the dogs are chained, witb an iron ball at tho end of the chain; and there are no cookies. Kok iter Johnson. ONK OF BOB HART'S CO W KKTS. Ill Old Stage Companion, Archie Ilughen, Signs the Temperance Fledge. Naw York Sud. Archie Hughes, the well-known burntcork song and dance man, who ha amused the varietv theater goers in this city, Brooklyn, and Philadelphia for many years by bis character sketches, songs, and jigs, was in Hooley's theater, Brooklyn, on Sunday night last listening to his old fellow ministrel, Bob Hart, who made an appeal for temperance and Christianity. Hughes went forward at the call for those who wished prayers to be offered in their behalf. lie passed around through the private box upon the stage, whore he was mot by Bob Hart, who shook him cordially by the hand The occupants of the gallery recognized their old friend, Archie Hughes, and spontaneously applauded, although there had been no applause in the meeting. Mr. Sutherland, who is better known as Bob Hart, said that he was glad to ask the prayers of Christians for the conversion of one who had been a fellow actor with him in minstrel life. Hughes was much affected, and signed the temperance pledge in the presence of the au dience. 4,I am glad to see you do that, Archie," said Sutherland. "I hope you will keep it. "I'll try my best, Bob," said Hughes, as he went oenina tne scenes. Archie Hughes was found in the bar-room of the Olympic theater, Brooklyn, vesterday afternoon, but he was sitting at a table by the stove, apart from the drinkers. Hughes is 50 years of age, and for 30 years ha3 been on the stage. He was born in Albany, and began life on the stage in Philadelphia. He has been as prosperous as most song and dance men and negro minstrels, and several times he haa had companies of his own on the road. His 13-year-old adopted daughter died some years ago, and after that he drank heavily, and it told on him physically. "Yes." said Mr. Uughes,"I have signed tho pledge and I mean to keep it. I have been drinking now a long while, and have not seen many sober days. I haven't tasted a drop since Sunday night, and for an old drinker, it comes awful hard to stop off so sudden. 1 was intoxicated on ounday night, but I had made up my mind to go and hear my old friend Bob Hart, and so I went to Hooley's. I am at home there, but more at home on the stage than in the auditorium. I was one of Hooley's old minstrels; many a time I have played negro sketches with Bob Hart. When Bob was talking I knew that he meant what he said, for he always did, and as I listened I became somewhat sobered up. I began to think that if he had stopped drinking I could. Jl guess Bob saw I was interested. He spied me in the audience, and when he . asked for men to come forward for prayers he gave me the wink. I don't suppose that I would ever have faced that audience if I hadn't been under the influence of liquor, but I went upon the stage, and as the boys all knew me there was a good deal of applause. Bob told me he was glad to see me there, and he made quite a little speech, Then I signed the pledge, and I promised him to keep it." Will you leave the stage?" "Oh, no. That was not included in my pledge. I don't mean to give up my business, but I mean to try to do better. I have alwaysriedto do what is right, and liquor has caused me all my trouble. It has kept me from good engagements, . good friends, and a comfortable home. I am 60 years old now, but if I leave rum alone, I can sing and dance a long time yet, and bring back some of my old business?' "Will you join Bob Hart in hia work?" "I can not tell yet. I may make some speeches in favor of temperance. It's a good thing, and whisky has done enough harm for me to know it by this time. It's a struggle now, for I haven't tapered off, but have stopped square off, which makes it all the harder. ' The comedian's old friends say that he has become as firm as a rock on the subject of temperance, and will not even taste a glass of beer. Masculine and Feminine Morality. Elizabeth Blackwell M. D. I could never understand the opposite systems of weights and measure which have been established for gauging morality among men and women. The strictest among us allow that a young man should sow his wild oats; but who ever admitted the same necessity in the case of girls? We say that man should have hia amusements his clubs, cigars, horse races, flirtations and liquorings: but supposing our women and girls came to us reeking of tobacco? Supposing they addicted themselves openly to nips of grog and absinthe when their spirits were low? Supnosiner thev sat down to auiet rubbers of whist or ecarte, gambling away their household money to while off the dull hours? We demand so much excellence of our women that the worst of them are still better than the average man. I have known some women who were social outcasts, -and who in point of heart, conduct and general moral rectitude, might have furnished stuff for the making of upright eentlemen, indeed, iney had fallen once, it is true, but what a fearful penalty they had been made to pay for that one slip, while, by comparison, the kindred penalties of men are so slight, If a young man gets mixed up in some disgraceful en tanglement, breaks a heart, and throws a voung eirl on the streets, after having ruined her life, people say of him, compassionately by and bv, "lie waa so young when he did it. and now he has turned over a new leaf;" but if an inexperienced girl, a mere child of 16 or 17, comes to harm through a moments weakness, born of too much love and over-confidence in her be trayer, who ever thinks ofpleadi:. her vouth as an excuso? Whoever urges senay ouslv. that a girl haa "turned overa new leaf. If the Elmira people insist on erecting monument to the memory of Adam, we think that their dressmakers and milliner should erect a monument to the memory of Eve, who did so much for their business, we have often thmipht the ancle and serpent lob waa put up by the dressmakers and milli ners. Whitehall Timet.

A MOUMON WEDDING FKA8T.

How a Woman' Heart Rebelled Ag-aloat the Dogma of the Church. Sacramonto Unloa. Some months since Mr. K. brought the ur-aumui iiiis J wineii uumo 10 DC OUmeign oor a piurai irs. i. xo my ururise l was the recipient of an invitation to attend thu supper given in clebration of this event. Mrs. It. (tho first) received me kindly, for away down deep in her life this woman and I have qualities in kinship. We sat down to supper at 6 o clock. Mr. It. and his first wifo set at opposite ends of tie table. The new Mrs. R. sat by ''Sister Julia." I bad the post of honor at the right of the bridegroom. This new kind of benedict wore an almost sheepish air and waa ill at ease throughout. It dawned upon me at last that my presence on such an occasion was a re proach to me. I was more than ashamed of my own stupidity in yielding to what appeared so plainly as a most vulgar curiosity. In such a mood it was of course difficult to be amiable, and as tho best substitute for that amiability du) from a guest at a marriage feast, I tried to be witty. Suffice it to say, we succoeded in stinging each other like a nest of angry hornets, and nothing but our good breeding preventod an open quarrel We animals fed at that supper with sonio thing of the snappishncss attributable to feasting wolves. That agonizing supper over wo ttood round the bright fire in toe cosy little sitting-room. Mr. R. bad planned to take his bride to the theater, and bo preparations in the way of rloves, cloaks ana bonnets began. The late Miss Finnell was soon toileted for tho opera in most fashionable attire. Mrs. K.my old friend btood half reclining against the piano. We had been silent for a moment, and, to relieve the embarrassment taking possession of U3, 1 said: "Mrs. R., it almost makes one wish to be a bride again." Mrs. R. laughed accommodatingly. Just then Mr. R. placed his arm gently around the slender waist of his new bride, fold ine ner nanasome opra-cioaK close to her form and drew her toward him. She responded to this caress by a tender upward dance of her beautiful eyes. Then I looked toward my triend, to find her face pallid as death, while a look of agonizing endurance, mingled with devilish malignity, almost froze my blood. I had said aloud in actual surprise before turning towwd her, (As T lJx-o Via entiiallTr lAirno tV!-i ! I (' o a. niu, uv avuuaiijr IU19 gill. Mrs. R.'s look met mine squarely. That face told me all. Jio lias now, with ready lips, at the bidding of fealty to religion. That agonized, refined, sensitive face proclaimed the system damned. A woman's natural love roe grandly in the awful denunciation of those fierce eyes. A ereat throb of pitv filled my own woman's heart. I saw all the torture and the noble rage of self restraint. I stepped toward her, as if to hold her in pity to my heart. My Mormon lady friend took me by the arm with almost rude force, and whispered warningly, "Mrs. Castine, for Ood s sake remember where you are. ' I did remember and, discomfited, returned to mv place near the mantle. Amid this little flurry the bridal party took their departure. We women were a silent party at first. Mrs. R. still stood leaning on the piano with her look bent on me almost resentfully. You don't think yourself called upon to pity me, Mrs. Castine?" she said, with an almost quarrelsome tone. "1 do pity you, Mrs. K., and I have a right to." "You think me jealous of my new sister, then." 'Mrs. R we are both proud women. We only need to look into our own hearts to learn what a real woman must feel under the or deal through which you are passing.' 1 am not jealous, Mrs. Castine. .Not only not jealous, but happy in this new love of my husband. Our faith teaches us to love these sisters in marriage as our own fiesh. This marriage is not an estrangement of my husband's love as it would be in an unsanctined Gentile, but a remarriage to my seit, in this marriage I live over again my own espousal, my own 1 bridal, and renew again the first sweets of married love. We were all undecidedly uncomfortable, and our two lady companions took their leave together. But my impulse of pity bad not been lost, and without a word having oeen spoken be tween us after our friends retired she sank into a chair and covering her face with her hands cried out in bitterness, "Oh! Mrs. Castine, I am most wretched. Between me and any celestial lights, or any glory or peace or consolation in this life or in the world to come there stands that woman. Between me and all the light of mv religion stands that woman. This girl's face is hateful to me; that my husband should love one for her mere beauty alone! My imagination can not be held back from all the soultorturing, crucifying things which follow in the train of this marriage. .The box at the theater holds to-night a man and wife not more. There are the gentle pressure of handa, the glance of loving eyes, the blending of lines into one destiny in this life, the first exquisite rapture of honeymoon, which cheats itself with the delusion that a capital stock of love has been laid in sufficient to draw upon for life. Beyond these rise, in spite of all pretense of spirituality, the bridal bfd, the cradle, the child, in whose veins there can be tho commingling life-current of but one father and one mother. All these things one man can have only with one woman in marriage. Ko, Mrs. Castine; marriage to one women unmarrjes a man to all other women, or there is no marriage." There was no answer; 1 offered none, but kissing her cold forehead I left her alone with her desolate sorrow. Advice to a Young Man. Burlington Hawkeye. My son, enjoy yourself! Have a good time; pleasure is eminently right and proper, but a good time isn't eecured by a headache that lasts all the next day. The simplest Eleasurea are the most lasting. After you ave spent two years in Europe, you will come back and sit down by your own fireside and think of a picnic you went to down at the Cascade one afternoon in June that cost you just 65 cents. The "good times" that you daren't take your wife to, my ton, that you would lie about them, the "goodness" of them never comes back to refresh you and gladden your heart as does the memory of that 65 cent picnic, when you chatter ed nonsense with the crirl you loved, and lauched just as the leaves rustled because you couldn't help it. The "good time'' that wakes in the morning and wonders where it was and who saw it and where all its money is gone; the good time that tails itself off with a headache, there's precious little fun in that. And it only takes a very little bitterness of that kind to poison and cloud the memories of your past. It doesn't take many such good times, my boy, to mingle tears with your bread and gall with your drink, The sting is the smallest part of the bee, but when you pick him up by it, though the rest of-the bee wrra as largo as an omnibus hore, yet would the sting outweigh all the good, sweet, harmless, honey-laden portiou of the bee, and you would think about it oftener and longer. Dying Words. Virginia (Nev.) Eutorpiiae. It is probably natural that at the last the scenes which have made the stiongest im pressions in life should be recalled by memory. xne oia mountaineer, wnen ne comes to die, with his last whisper says his snowshoes are lost, wun tne srage-anver ne is "on a down-grade and can not reach the brake," tho minor can notget to tho air-pipe, the sailor says "e'ght bells have sounded, and the gambler plays his last trump. A little girl died here a lew years ago, and as her mother held her wrist and noted the fainting and flickering pulse a smile came to the wan face and the child whispered: "There is nc more desert here, mamma, but all the world U full of beautiful flowers." A moment later the smile became transfixed. In an Eastern city, not long ago, a Sister of Charity wu

dying, and at la?t from a stupor she opened her eyes and said: "It is strange; every kind word that I have spoken in lite, every tear that I have shed, has become a living "flower around me, and they bring to my ens'6 an incense ineffable."

The swinging gait is gemd for the man w ho walks fast. The swinging gate is alo good for the young chap who lingers and talks to his love by moonlight. The swinging club in tho hands of the old man is not so healthy. New Orleans Picayune. B0E00L APPORTIONMENT As Submitted by the 8op rlctenaen. of PubHo Instruction For January, 1880. The fo'lowlng table, from tie superintendent of public instruction, includes the fchool apportionment by counties for January, 1880: flrs 4 C T i 2 o a. cs 3 a 053 cic mi Counties. o c mm Adams.... Allen Barthol'w. Benton black lord. Boone Brown Carroll 9 3,m 31 2)1.496 h 9.131 4 5.W70 7 2,17.1 ftS (! 13 I M3 '.9 1,6 0 6S RS7 30 331 44 417 S8 7 0-12 31 2-J 428..5H 9.797 76 4,610 68 3,473 82 11 8j M 4, 96 0 8. Ü79 97 12 4 7 62 12 :183 28 lOM.O 42 10,107 72 6 382 72 9,803 2S I2,3i4 80 8,927 10 8,773 38 9,621 36 7,714 9Ü 11,13) 91 4,547 hi 11,5 .2 N4 8 mi 36 9,714 00 6 291 8 10,i 40 10,179 4 10,1.71 72 10,5 9 M 7,2 8 91 10.773 00 9, Mi 42 10 00i 92 8,32 54 9,02 30 lu,()73 70 4,2r6 28 8.463 42 15,131 34 7.871 81 8,3-10 02 13 763 71 11.463 IS 6,57 04 6 581 50 138 7 48S18 5i 11,781 00 41,467 92 10,506 3 6 300 00 10,011 96 6.950 16 12.2 2 24 8,457 12 8.456 18 9 9 25 2 2,484 72 66n 12 7,61 22 8,314 74 8.464 50 7,2)3 82 7,817 28 10,420 20 4 633 r2 10,019 76 11,501 28 10,1W) 91 7,788 06 3,9Vi 11 10,679 76 ll.Wö 86 2.440 62 6 5M5 02 ' 13 318 2(1 9, 90 78 903 10 18, 33 12 6,659 10 3.252 (6 21,493 i8 .('3 50 19, 98 Vi 10,711 50 4.951 3J 10,48 58 8.68 41 16 662 24 7 9-3 12 5,700 21 7,389 90 7,500 00 7,776 8, 'M 2,7T)7 9, m VIM (CS 7.S2S 8,)5 7(JKj 7.;i 821 8.1 4HI 86 1,774 5l i '(an .ut 7 7 5 10,230 00 8,211 18 8 81 (16 20 69 1,512 05 1,21 i9 9ti2 35 X 82 1,1( 9 8o 9:rt 33 1,2 0 61 1,213 19 624 55 Clarke ...... 1 e Clinton... 8.135 61 1.180 21)1 Crawford.. Daviess... M Dearborn.. Kalb... . 5,951 13 ,5 5 4 8,037 27 6,57 74 6 901 83 4 407 4) Delaware. Dubois Klkbart .... tU2 11,219 8, .l(i9 7.0-B 7.71fflih 8.171 8 8 23 11,077 60 1,73 90 Fayette 6,835 01 7.4 0 62 7,.i 6i 5,2'0 62 787 28 ST.9 ho Kioya Fountain 381 3 753 17 91 87 FranklinFulton .... Qibrion...., (Jiant 3,991 1 7 8.578 SSj l28 (1 8,079 8.172 7.7UÖ l7 1,32 42 1,377 31 915 72 1,173 0fr8 43 1.527 6 Ureene 5,704 15 9.670 89 78 Hamilton 8,341 8,V 7,817 7.W2 6) Hancock Harrison -Hendr'ks . 3,19 4 ( 1II,Ü9 41 11. UK 4.1 fi,717 4H 6.M 83 5,81 3,i 6 76 4,599 L7 6,M8 11. Henry .. uowsra . Hnnt'uton l.ltvJ 10 7,0i ri,m X78 6.717 1201 HOfP fJ7; 8it 25 it 4.i 370 21 621 16 2,U 8 30 487 71 1,49 32 2,099 22 m 83 1,152 87 773 X7 1,234 87 854 86 1.216 52 5.359 21 Jackson. .. Jaütter Jav Jefleison -Jennings.. Johnson. - linnt 2 8 J3 74 8,633 HI 9.422 69j 8,281 88' 5.9.H 22; Kosciusko Lagrange.. late Importe. ... Lawrence. Madison Marlon. ... Man-hall-. Martin Miami Monroe.... Montg'my Morgan ewion .... Nobis . Ohio. Orange- ... Owen-...... Parke Perry Porter foey ........ I Puisskl..... Pntnam ... 9,m 4,104 6i 9 961 45 6,i2 5.411 14 9,984 VI 9&U 57,551 88 642 19 1.016 7i; 6,U00 7 ,16 5.516 1,"U9 34 590 65 8-S2 40 460 67 760 5t 811 70 2 9 98 1,149 C5 4L'9 85 645 36 8 4: 649 6 773 39 419 76 4 58 71 924 81 331 04 684 78 882 (9 1.300 40 1.025 15 282 47 1,616 66 1,014 41 116 II 1.006 .N$ 1,655 3 2V 24 19 667 68 7,214 16 4.963 tV 13 192 48 7.997 4i 9,7 2.743 8,657 45 7,877 6.192 97 1,5(72 1. 99 97 2,953 10 4,610 15 8,624 26 1,8 98 2 XSO Ü7 6.760 73 6,4x7 29 2, 49 91 11,779 40 9,498 23 2,922 55 10.984 -9 1311 59 10,689 f 3 4,766 84 730 65 6,0 691 6054 f. 757 6,2 8 h,27U 3.K77 7.976 9,1 8 8,U9 Randolpn. Ripley Rubh Scott-.. .. Shelby. Spencer.... fdt&rko Btenben.... Hr. Joseph Sullivan wwitzerl'd Tipptcn'e. Tipton-.... Union. 6.181 3, 9 8 476 9.211 1.937 5.-7 4,196 63j 10,0 11,U1 54 f,3l7 97 3 024 8. 19 855 8i" 3,37 60 397 45 16,094 26 4 84 40 17,79 46 t,8 6 43 5 744 80. 493 34 4 465 54 19,251 68 4.693 75 7,43 4,685 14 312 6,2 2,581 17.US8 3.K90 15,551 8,v5 3, 2 8.251 6,894 13,224 6,3 U 4, -24 5,865 1,610 63 61 23 5o2 60 Vanderb'g 2,561 05, vermilli'u Vljto Wabash.... Warren Warrick... Wash'gt'n Wayne .. Wells White Wbltlpy-.. Ktate vormal Sehl 1,130 57 1,02 19 1,429 26 514 48 1,081 17 733 65 2,038 ( 4! 697 88 617 55 323 11 5.612 53! 4,725 15 Total708,101 f 679,01 4 P8f90,3ö5 28I890J.088 70 CHTJBCH DIRECTORY. Bethel A. 9f. Clmrch, Corner Vermont and Columbia streets. Rev. W. C. Trevan, pastor. Residence, 214 "West Vermont street. Hours of service: 10:30 a. m. and 7:30 p.m. Sunday school at 2 p. m. Allen A. M. F. Church, Broadway. Rev. 11. Titus, pastor. Residence, 113 Oak street. Hours of service: 10:30 a. m. and 7.30 p. m. Sunday school at school 2 p. m. A. 91. E. Zlon Church, Corner Blackford and North streets. KevJ. Holiday, pastor. Residence Missouri street. Hours of service, 11 a. m. 3 p. m. and 8. p. m. Sunday school at 9 a .m. and 2, p. m. Coke Cbapl Bf. E. hnrch. Sixth street, between Mississippi aad Tennessee. Rev. S. G. Turner, pastor. Residence, 251 West Fifth street. Hours of services, 10:30 a. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday at 2 p. m. Branch 9f . E. ( hurrh, Blackford street, between North and Michigan streets. Rev. James Caruthers, pastor. Residence, Massachusetts avenue. Hours of service, 11 a. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday school at 9 a. a. m. Second Baptist C'hnrcli, Michigan street, between Indiana avenue and "West street. Rev. Mose? Broyles, pastor. Residence, 270 Blake street. Hours of service, 10:30 a. mn 3 p. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. Olive BaptiKt Church, Hosbrook street, near Grove street. Rev. A. Summons, pastor. Residence, 10t Linden street. Hours of service, 11 a. m., 3 p. m and 7:30 p. m. Sunday-school at 2 p. m. Calvary flap list Church, Corner Maple and Marrs streets. Rev. Tho. Smith, pastor. Residence, . Hours of service, 11a. mn 3 p. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. New Bethel Bapttitt Church, Beeler street, llev. J. It. Raynor, pastor. Residence, 123 West Fourth street. Hours of service. 11a. m., 3 p. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. Jit. Zlon Baptist Chtirt li, Corner Second street and Lafayette railroad. Rev. Wm. Singleton, pastor. Residence, Bright street. Hour? of service, 11 a. m., 3 p. m. and 8 p. in. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. Christian Church, Corner Fifth and Illinois streets, Elder J. 31. Marshall, paor. Residence Hours of service, 11a. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. Tabernacle Baptist Chnrrh, Corner Rhode Island and Maxwell streets. Rev. C. C. Wilson, pastor. Residence, 122 Minerva street. Hours of service, 11 a. m. 3 p. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-school at 8 a. m SOCIETY DIRECTORY. Masonic. Gethsemane Commandrt. K.T. No. 9 Regular communication second Tuesday of each month; hall in Judah's Block, opposite court house. J. W. Sweeney, E. C. H. A. Roqan, Recorder. Altha Chapter No. 13. Regular communication first Tuesday in each month; hall in Judah's Block. W. F. Martin, Sec. C. E. Bailey, II. P Central Lodge No. l.F. A. Y.M. Regular communication first Thursday of each month; hall in Judah's Block. C. H. Lanier, W. M. Andrew Locklcar, See. Trinity Lodge No. 18. F. A. T. M. Regular communications first Wednesday of each month; hall in Judah's Block. W. M. Him, Soc. 5?ott Tv?ir M.

Ladle Court. Union Court No. 1. Regular communication first and third Monday eveningi of each month; ball in Judah's Block. Mrs. Cornelia Towxsexd.M. A. M Mrs. Sarah Hart, Sec. Leah Court Xo. 11. Regular communication second and fourth Monday of each month; hall in Judah's Block.

M rs. ü uslk v, Sec. M rs. Jam e, R. A. M Independent Bona of Honor. Lokok No. 2. Regular communication first Monday night of each month; hall in Griffith's Block. Thos. Rudd, Pres. John Preston, Sec. s . Loikjk No. 15. Regular communication first Tuesday night of each month; hall In Griffith's Block. John Wilson, Pres. Mu. Walker, Sec. Independent daughter of Honor. Lodge No. 2. Regular communication first Wednesday evening of each month: hall in Griffith's Block. Ed. Ellis, Sec. Ellen Spalding, Proa. Culled Bröthen of Friendship. Gibson Lodge No. 2 of U. B. of F. Reguliir communication second Monday evening, Cull meeting, fourth Monday evening in each month; hall N. E. corner Meridian and Washington Sts. Thos Tool, W. M. Master. Henry DeHorney, Sec. Friendship Lodoe No 3. Regular communication fir?t and third Mondays in each ' month; hall N. E. corner Meridian and Wa.-hington. St. John's Lodge No 11. First and third Fridays in each month; hall N. E. cor. Ma- ' ridian and Washington sts. A. L. Dudley, Pt. M. L. Van Bcren, Sec. United SlNlera of Friendship. St. Mary's Temple. Regular comma nicaton first Monday evening of each month; ' hall N. E. corner of Meridian and Washington streets. M RS. Patsey Hart, W. P Mus. Mauia Ousley, Sec. Deborah Temple, No. 3 of U. S. of F. Regular communication second Wednesday and fourth "Wednesday cvening8 in each month; hall N. E. corner of Washington and Meridan street. Miss Sallie Gallitoic, M. W. Trince, Mrs. Fax xik Johnson, W. Sec'y, for 1880. Odd Fellows. Gerritt Smith Lodge No. 1707. Regular communication ßccond and fourth Mondays of each month; hall 85 and 87 East Washington street. Cuab. Laxier, N. O. Horace Heston, P. Sec. Lincoln Union Lodge No. 1486. Regular communication first and third Mondays of each month; hall 85 and 87 East Washington street. Edward Proctor, N. Q. Samuel Spencer, P. Sec. Household of Bnth. .No. 34. Regular communication first and third Wednesdays of each month; hall 85 and 87 East Washington street. Chas. Tiiomas, Sec. Mrs. J. Minor. Prea, American Nona. Regular communication first and third Mondayp each month; at American Hall. Wm. Dunxlnqton, Pres.' William Barbek, Sec. . American Doves. Regular communication first Tuesday evening of each month, at American hall. Mrs. Kitty Singleton, Pres. Mrs. Maria Ousley, Sec. Sisters of 'harlty. Regular communication first Tuesday of each month, at Bethel A. M. E. Church, - -Mrs. Nellie Manx, Pres. Miss Rrrn Beasly, Sec. Good Kanmrlinn.. Jericho Lodge No. 5. G O. G. S.Regular communication, second and fourth Thursaays oi each month; hall JS o. 36 J W. Wash-; ington St. Bazil Ewing, W. P. C. S. J. Blaylock. W. F. S. Magnolia Lodge. ' No. 4, D. of S. Regular communication 1 first and third Thursdays of each month, haU No. 36 J W. Washington St. .- Mrs. Saint Clark,' W. P. D. Miss Kate Johnson, D. 'of R '.' Sons and Daughters of Horning Star. Lodge No. 7. Remilar remmnniriitinnt - nrst and third Fridays in - each toonth, at American hall, West 5lichigan st. Mrs. Lucy Ann Martin, Pres. -MRS. JH.ATTIE WEILS, SeC. y xj j HAIL.IIO AJD TUIE TAJ3IVE. j On and after Sunday,i'Dcc.ki;!U19;)l' . Cleveland, 4lumbua, Cinclaukatl Indianapolis. (BKS LIXX.) ueparu N.T. A Bo.Exf- 4 :16 am D. A8.Exf 4:15 am Union Acc..... 6:45 am Day t. A C. Ex-11 :50 am Ft W..J.& ...11:50 am N. Y. A B. Exf- :40 pm E. &Ft.W.Ext-:40pm V - Arrivt. L. & 8t. L. Exf- 725am E ,G.,M.AI.Ex 1225 pm Union A cc....... :45 pm B.. I.48.L Ex 625 Dm Col. A Ind. Ex. 926 pm' n . x uEa.LkisxT-wx pm Col., H. A I. Ex10 :65 pm J., Ft, W. A I10:56 pm BRIGHTWOOD DIVISION X C. C AXO X, ' j Depart. . Arrive. - - ' 8 5 am, S 45 pm 7 am s -io pm ii ao am 6 25 pm 11:55 pm..JQ5 pm 4 :05 am 1 :10 pm 6:15am 3:45pm 7 :4ö am 6 :40 pm 11 äü BmwMMJl :10 pm Pittsburg, Cincinnati and tit. JLonis. t Depart. N.Y.AB.r.Lf- 42o am Bal.AWa. r.Lf 420 am Day t.A Hp. Ex- 4 20 am Dayt. Ai.Ex.Ua am Hpringf. A CoLJlrOl) am Rich. A D. Ac 3:45 pm Xen.3fc Col. Ao- 8:45 pm N. Y. A B. F .EXt 6 pm BaL AW. f.kxt 6:45 pm ArrlYB. Richmond As. 9 55 am Ht. L.AL. rj.f-12 :40 pm Tex.AKan.ra.fl3 :40 pm Col. A Hp. AC 6:40 pm X. A Dayt. Ac 6:40 pm fSt-LwA Tx.rj.t10. -45 pm Kan. A P. ra 10 :45 pm Terre Haute. Yanualla id St Seouls. Depart. Mall........- 7:00 am Day Express p 1:00 pm T. Haut Ac 4 IMj pm Pacific Exf 11 :U0 pm Arrive Fast Llnef..-. 4 do am Meli and Ao 10 DO am Day Ex preset- 635 pm Malland Ac 6:40 pm Indianapolis and St. Louis. iJenartArrlviL Day Express p 8.uu am Local Express S-M pm N. Y. Ex 11 M pm N. T. Exf 4 .-05 am Indlanap. Aell:45 cm uay .express-, o.-upm Indianapolis. Cincinnati and JLaxayctto CLN'.IJfUATI DIVISION. DeD&rt.l ArrlvA O. A 8t.Lb r.tt- 4 :io am C A M'vUleAcll 5 am Cliicln. Ac.-.-. ftM6am U.AMvUleAc-2:10 Dm C.At.Li.MaU pl3 35 pm tincm. ac. . TMpm C a St. L. r.Lf10 6 pm Uu&Ut.L.Mall p 6:55 pm LAFAYXTTB DIVISION Peo.A Keo.Ex- 7 35 am Chicago r. LT 8:50 am Chi. Mall p 12 5 pm Western Ex 4 :15 pm C. A B. r.i,trcll :15 pm LAiayetie ao -ll aw am Chicago MalL.. 635 pm Lalayette Ao.- WOO pm Indiana, Bloomlngton and Western. Pacific Ex 7 :45 am I East A B. Ex.. 4 :10 am Crawfor-Jsvllle CnampalRnAe.il :O0am Acconi . 825 pm Day ExiMalL 6:40 pm K. A T. Spec Sao pml K.I.AW.ExtKCll:U0 pm f , V i 1 f nrnl I, iff nnd it fTsllfond. immediate connections at Lalayette. De Dart. Arrive. aum pm S :30 pm 4:48 pm 5:42 pm 621 pm Indianapol 6:40 pm 8:10 pm 122 pm 1337 pm 12:06 pm 10 A) am -.LAiayette. Iloopeston Paxtoa 1037 am 1130 am 12405 pm -.Gibson . 7:50 pm Ä. 1 arr'm i - w-a iv svs nu O. w. Hmilh, Pen. Paws. Agt.. Lafayetts, Ind 1:20 pal. Bloomlngton ... Cincinnati, Hamilton and Indianapolis Depart,! Arrive. Mall A Cln.Ex- 4 :15 am miit , pm Accom. ... 435 pm I W estern Ex 36 pm Indianapolis and Vlnrtnucs. Depart. Arrli. Ml. A Cairo Ex- 8:15 am Bpencer Acq.-. 820 pm Spencer Aoc 8:40 am Ml. A Cairo Ex 6.-40 pm Indianapolis, Peru and CJhloaro. M C.FtW.AT 725 am C. A T. Ex. re .1225 pm P.AM.CEx.. 6:10 pm D. ,TtC.Ex.t.Ol:10 pm C. AM.CEx.t 4:00 am Pern Ao 11:00 am T. A Ft.W. Ex. 626 pm U.AM.U.AUU. v :50pm Jefferson YlUe, Andlson and Indlanap TVn rt. Arrive. Li. A M. Ex . 4:10am L. AB. Ext 7 :50am Col. A Mad. Ac 225 pm B.AKv. Ex. KOL. 6:rt pm Madison MalLll :00 am Mali A N. Ex 12:00 m Day Express 6u0 pm Mght Ext 10:50 pm (Jalroand Vineennea Ball road. , Depart. I Arrive.. Cairo Mall 230 pm Vine. Mall 1220 pm Trains marked thus indicate Aleeperj Thu, p, parlor car. Thu, bo, reclining chair car. Trains marked f are dally