Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 July 1898 — Page 3

A TANGLED SKEIN

MRS. ALEXANDER.

CHAPTER XX. Almost breathless, Dorothy returned to •the drawing room. Callander was standing exactly where she had left him. He ■stretched out his hand eagerly. “One moment, Herbert! There are one •or two things to tell first.” Rapidly, yet with a prudence which was almost i» epiration, she told of the curious mesmeric power which Egerton had gained •over her sister, of her dread that Callander might be suspicious, of Mabel’s confession of her unhappiness and fear of Egerton’s violence should she show affection to her husband. “Then she determined to end this wretched, contemptible state of things, and wrote this, which I was to give to him, but I never had a chance, for she died dreadfully a few days after.” She took the note from its outer cover, and gave it to Callander. He took it and looked curiously at the address with dilated, horror-struck eyes. His ■hands trembled while he tore it open. She watched him eagerly as he read the contents, every word of which was engraven on her memory—all fear, all personal feeling, lost in the intense desire to clear the two creatures she loved best from the terrible accusation in which Callander believed. “I cannot bear my life,” so ran the letter, “if you continue to exercise the extraordinary power I have let you gain over me. I told you this before ih the last lines I wrote. Now I will break my fetters, and dare to act as my heart and conscience dictate. My husband loves me; in spite of all you say, I believe he loves me, and I really love him. I only fear you, Randal, and I cannot understand how you gained the power over me which you have. lam determined to resist it. If you ever cared for me. If you have any principle, any sense of honor, leave me to regain peace and happiness. You can never persuade me to leave my dear, good husband. I shudder to think I ever listened to you for a moment. Show that you have some real regard for me by going far away, and earn the gratitude of “M. C.” Callander's chest heaved. He drew his breath in gasps. When he came to the end he looked up with wild, angry eyes, and crushing the paper in his hand, said, in fierce, quick tones: “Egerton was your lover —be wanted to marry you?” “He pretended it!” Callander dropped into a chair as If shot, sitting upright, motionless, like a creature turned to stone. Dorothy was terrified at the effect of her confession. What should she do? “Oh, Herbert! speak to met.” He started at her as if not understanding what she said, and covered his face with his hands, leaning forward until his brow almost touched his knees. Then he stood up, began smoothing out the letter, and kissed it. “She loved me,” he said brokenly—“she loved me still. I cannot speak to you, my poor child. I must go. I dare not speak. To-morrow —to-mor-row!” He staggered toward the door. “Oh, Herbert! Let me call Collins to go with you* you are not fit to be alone, dear Herbert.” He made a motion of refusal with his hand. “At you see that Paul Standish is not to blame.” “I have wronged hiw but I will write. Let me go! For heaven's sake, let me go’” He rushed from the room. Dorothy rang violently and then ran downstairs. “Oh, Collins, get your hat and follow him, there is something dreadful in his faceF’ and Collins flew to obey her. “Have I done right or wrong?” asked Dorothy of herself, while she wrung her hands tn despair. “What shall I do? Where can I turn? Oh, I must tell Paul everything. What will Herbert say or do when be has time to think, and connects this letter with the awful result? I did so hope to keep all a secret, for my poor darling's sake. Will he attack Dandal Egerton legally, and blazon out the whole dreadful story? I must see Paul, and be will be out now. It is nearly nine o’clock. He will be away, goodness knows where. Still Henrietta is safe away; it will be eleven o’clock or more before she returns. Perhaps Paul may be at his rooms. I will go to him. I don’t want to tell Henrietta more than I can help; but I must tell some one. Nurse will not say a word if I ask her;” and she mounted' rapidly to the peaceful nursery, where Mrs. McHugh, spectacles on nose, was reading a newspaper with a stern aspect, as if sitting in judgment on the world. “Dear Nurse, the Colonel has just rushed out of the house, In such a state of excitement that I am frightened to death.” “What’s put him out?” asked Mrs. McHugh, rising. “We were talking of—of the past, and he spoke of Mabel, almost foe the first time since we lost her, and got Into a state of despair!. I have sent Collins to try and find him. Now I want to see Mr. Standish. Oh, Nurse, I must see him at oncer lam going to him. Will you get a cab for me? I must go.” “Stay a bit, Miss Dorothy, it’s just a chance if be be at home. You stay here, I’ll go,” beginning to take off her cap as shq spoke. “I’ll bring him back if he is to be found. You write a line for me to leave.” “But, Nurse, I don’t want Miss Oakeley to know.” ’ “All right, Mias Dorothy, more reason I should go. No one will tejl on me, but Brown would be sure to say you had gone bj^j^urself— go write, my dear young “I will, and I will watch the children. You need not send Peggy up,” A short appeal to Standish to come to her early next day, at eight if he liked, was quickly penned, and then there was nothing for it but to wait. “Nothing but to wait!” What a terrible task, to be still and helpless while others are casting the shuttle of your life through the threads es inexoraWs circum-

How slowly the minutes went by! She sat watching the bands of the clock on the mantelpiece. Did time ever drive so slowly? At last steps approached, the door opened and Mrs. McHugh appeared, a little breathlees. “Welj, I’ve been pretty quick, haven’t I? But lam vexed he was out. He had gone down to some place down the Great Northern line, and won’t be home till tomorrow evening.” Dorothy uttered a faint cry and sank into a chair. “Don’t take on so, my dear! I just got his address and sent on your note.” “Thank you, Nurse! but he will not get it till mid-day in th® country. I must telegraph the first thing in the morning, that is all I can do.” “I suppose so! Write the telegram then, Miss Dorothy. I’ll see it goes as soon as the office is open. Hasn’t Collins come back?” Dorothy shook her head. “Dear, dear, that’s bad.” “Yes, very bad, I fear.” “I’ll go down and watch for him, and send Peggy up. It’s time she went to bed.” “I think I will go and wait for him in the drawing room,” said Dorothy, faintly. “I do hope he will come in before Henrietta.” This seemed a little strange to Nurse, but she made no remark upon it. Dorothy went to get a telegraph form, and wrote an entreaty to Standish to return at once. “Don’t go to bed till I come and tell you what news Collins brings,” she said to Mrs. McHugh. “You may be sure I will not.” Thesi she went away to “wait” again. This time she was not long left alone—a little before eleven Miss Oakeley returned. “Why, where in the world is Collins?” were her first words, “and. Dorothy, what is the matter with you? You look ghastly!” Dorothy gave the same explanation she bad offered to Nurse. “What a dreadful business! My dear child, he is as likely to throw himaelf into the river as to go to his hotel! What in the world did you say to him to drive him into such a state?” “Oh! it was talking and thinking of the past that upset him. Henrietta, you terrify me.” “I am afraid you were not very prudent, but don’t tremble so. I did not mean to frighten you. You had better go to bed, you poor little soul.” “Ah, no, Henriette-znot till I see Collins.” “I will go and put on my dressing gown —I wonder when that man will come back.” Dorothy sat with her head on her hand, her lips moving in silent prayer; she had stirred and risen up to seek Henrietta, unable to endure the solitude, when, to her relief, Collins presented himself. A glance at his face showed her that he had no evil tidings. “I’ve had a rare hunt. Miss Dorothy,” were his first words. “When I got out of the door ”

“Oh, good gracious, Collins, is he safe?” cried Miss Oakeley, coming in as he spoke. • . “Yes’m, he’s all right, I was a-sayin’, as I got out of the door I felt I was too late. I couldn’t see a sign of him. Maybe he’s gone to Kensington Gardens, thinks I, so I went there as as my legs could carry me, but as I saw nothing on the way a bit like him, I thought there’d be no end of looking for him under those dark trees, so I returned the other way towards town and got to the hotel. No sign of him! So I went back and up and down, and to and fro, all to no good. At last I went to the hotel once more, and there he was all right, just come in, and the waiter was going to take him a brandy-and-soda—so I made bold to go up, and ask if he had any commands for me to-morrow. He was lying back, dead beat like, in his ehair, and as the man picked up his boots to take them away, I saw there was some mould and grass sticking to the soles. He didn’t take much notice of me, but presently he rose up and bid me give him his dressing gown, and as I helped him off with his coat I*saw that the back and one side was all marked with grass and mould, as if he had lain on the ground, yet be didn’t look as if he had had g fit.” “A fit! What a notion, Collins!” cried Miss Oakeiey. “Did he say he would go to bed?’ “He didn’t say nothing, ma’am, except when I asked, be said I might come round in the morning, and I’m going early —and, if you please, I met Mr. Dillon coming out, and he had been down at Fordsea. He heard something as took him there, and he saw the colonel once or twice. He says, miss, as the colonel would kill himself if he were let go on the way he did. He used to go out bathing in thia sharp, cold weather!—out in a boat, bo fAr as I can make out, with the old boatman as used to row Mrs. McHugh and the children last summer—sometimes he went with him and sometimes without; but he was always saying it was hot, and how it set him up to have a dip.” “Will he ever be himself again?’ asked Dorothy, with a deep sigh. “Yes! I think he will,” returned Henrietta thoughtfully. “Men always recover. Now that we know he is safe, let us go to bed; I am‘most dreadfully tired. How I wish Paul Standish was not away!” “So do I. In fact, he must come back; I shall telegraph for him the first thing to-morrow morning,” said Dorothy decidedly. ,*T am sure you are right I shall be so glad to’ see him." “But, Henrietta!” began Dorothy hesi. tatingly, and nerving herself to secure a t*tee4O with Standish, which she felt

to be indispensable, “I hope you will nd think me unfriendly or unkind, but I must see Paul alone.” “Good gracious! Why?” “Because I must tell him some thing®— oh, some things that Herbert said to me about Paul in confidence, which I hope will make them friends again!” “And don’t you suppose they would both tell me as soon as they would you?” “Oh, very likely!—only for the present I want to say my say to Paul Standish alone. You know I have been accustomed to tell him everything from a child.” “Oh, very well!—but of course he wiX, pass it al! on to me. I suppose he cannot be here much before two! I’ll go over and lunch With my aunt, who does not seem to get over her cold; and no doubt when I return, you will tell me everything.” “Perhaps so,” said Dorothy, anxious to escape from the subject; but above all. desirous to secure a private interview with Standish. < Still quivering with the strain and terror of the last three hours, the question which last occupied her thoughts, above even her deep anxiety about her unhappy brother-in-law, was: “Can Paul Standish really confide every thought of his heart to Henrietta? Kind and true as she is, there is a crude realism about her that makes her take such matter-of-fact views about everything.” Fatigued by emotion, she at last dropped asleep, with this query unanswered.

CHAPTER XXI. What a long morning it was! Henrietta kept her promise, and went away to Mrs. Callander, having waited for a report of the Colonel from Collins. He seemed as usual, but said he had a cold, and would not leave the house. He had made Collins put out his writing materials, and said he hod much to do. “I think I shall go and see him,” were Henrietta’s last words. “I will talk to my aunt about it.” Dorothy went through the form of luncheon, but could hardly swallow; aqd then retreated into the study—the room she considered the most safe from intrusion. It Was nearly three o'clock, surely he might have come by this time? She had just turned from putting some fresh coal on the fire when the door was hastily opened, and Standish came in unannounced. She flew to him with outstretched hands. “Oh! thank heaven, you are come.” “Dear Dorothy! what is the trouble?” He drew her to him and pressed her hands against his heart, “I have a long, long story to tell. I almost dread to hear your judgment, Paul. I acted on impulse, but ” Then Dorothy began at the beginning, aitf described all that had taken place between her arid her brother-in-law. Standish put his arm around her when she had finished and pressed her to him. “This has been a cruel experience for you, Dorothy, too sore a trial for your young strength! But I scarcely know what to say to your desperate expedient of showing Callander that letter. In his frame of mind it is almost death to Egerton. Think of all it entails.” “I do think. I have thought, Paul,” she said, raising her eyes to his with a resole look. “I do not regret what I have done. I have saved you. He would have killed you, then I should have lost both you and Herbert. I could never see him again if he had hurt you. What is Egerton’s life to me? He deserves to die. But you, my best—A blinding gush of tears choked her utterance, and she hid her face against his shoulder. Sttfhdish pressed her closely to him, and murmured some half-articulate words of comfort. She felt his heart beating strongly against her own, and was conscious that she could stay in those dear arms forever, half because of the weary’s child’s desire to be comforted; half from the passionate woman’s love for the man who had been everything to her from her childhood. (To be continued.)

ABOUT GARGOYLES.

Many of Them were line Works of Let us loolTat ot the old rainwater spouts, or gargoyles. It is only recently that the word gargoyle has found Its way Into our dictionaries, says Chambers' Journal. Even techni cal glossaries of repute passed It over a few years ago. But now It is not only Included, but chosen for illustration, in lexicographical works that are enlivened with wood cuts. This advance in public estimation is probably the result of the exceptional wave in the waters of sanitary science now passing over us, which has drawn attention to the manner our ancestors made provision for the limitation of one of the evils with which they had to contend. We find our predecessors not only contrived a means to prevent the damp that would have ensued if rain water had not been diverted from falling off their roofs into the foundations of their buildings, but so treated these discharging spouts heads from their gutters as to make them give considerable ornamentation. The application of the term gargoyle to these contrivances is said to be due to the dragon-like character that was at first given to them, coupled with the fact that thepe was a particular dragon known by that name that kept the district around Rouen in trepidation. Directly these, fantastic spouts came into use they were treated as works of art,' in so far as two were never made alike. Those who have studied the subject aver that many of them are fine works of sculpture and they are often so adroitly plaoed as to bring out the salient points of a fabric and conduce to its pleasing effect. They were employed from about the middle of the thirteenth century, and were gradually Improved In form and delicacy of design and execution. At first they were somewhat short and thick, but after a time were made longer, to project further, and with more elegant details. Near the Bermudas the sea is extremely transparent, so that the fishermen can readily see the horns of the lobsters protruding from their hidingplaces in the rocks at a considerable depth. To entice the crustaceans from their crannies they tie a lot of snails in a ball and dangle them in front of the cautious lobster.

THE FARM AND HOME

MATTERS OF INTEREST TO FARMER AND HOUSEWIFE. New Method of Preserving Meat Discovered by a Danish Zoologist—How to Select a Good Cow-Pruning Grape Vines—Agricultural Notes. To Preserve Meat. A new method of preserving freshly killed meats has been discovered by the Danish zoologist, August Fjelstrup, already known through his method of condensing milk without the use of sugar. The system ((according to print»d reports) has stood a remarkably hard three months’ test at the Odense (Danish) company slaughter house in a very satisfactory manner. The method in itself is extremely simple, and might be of great service for the troops in Cuba. The animal to be used is first shot or stunned by a shot from a revolver (loaded with small slugs) in the forehead in such a way as not to Injure the brain proper. As the animal drops senseless an assistant cuts down over the heart, opens a ventricle and allows all the blood to flow out, the theory of this being thaj the decomposition of the blood is almost entirely responsible for the quick putrefaction of fresh meats. Immediately thereafter a briny solution—made of salt, more or less strong, according to length of time meat is to be kept—is injected by means of a powerful syringe through the other ventricle into the veins of the body. The whole process takes only a few minutes and the beef is ready for use and can be cut up at once. This method has been examined and very favorably reported on by many experts.

To Select a Good Cow. “One or two signs will denote a good tow. as well as twenty. In a poor cow the thigh runs down straight, so there is no space between the thigh and the udder on one side and the tail on the other. There should be plenty of daylight between the udder and the tail. One of the best ways to tell what kind of a cow you have is her temperament. A good dairy type has a sharp spine, strongly developed nervous system, and sharp hip bones. A good cow has a large, wedge-shaped stomach, for she must have a large and powerful digestive system to use up her food quickly and make the best returns for It. “Some of the animals the first year little over 200 pounds per cow, while others give over 300 pounds. We have kept up this record every year, and the last year our cows averaged 399 pounds per cow, and at a cost of only 4.2 cents per pound of butter for feed. One cow gave us 512 pounds during the year. These were hot picked, high-priced dairy cows, but the common run of dairy stock.”—Connecticut Dairyman’s Association.

Pruning Grape Vines. The trouble with an unpruned vine Is that it bears too much fruit, and this means poor quality. Let us take a thrifty Concord vine to Illustrate this matter. At the end of the season such a vine, in good soil, kept well tilkd, should have somewhere near to 300 fruit buds on the new growth of the past season; if it does this steadily year after year no more should !• expected. To bear that amount of fruit, not more than fifty buds are required. But we have smj ojy; vißp have about sir times that fifimber, WncTmal/ jn cF fess of the need. Leave the vine untrimmed, and the 300 buds will overbear, and the yield wiU be very Inferior. Prune to reduce the number of buds to fifty, and a good crop of fruit may be expected. That is the simple proposition needed for guiding your pruning knife. Cut away, therefore, enough of young canes to bring the buds down to the right number. A good rule with Concords is, remove all tire canes but five, and cut these back to nine to ten buds each, The Delaware class should have even less. Prune ind tie up so as to have a good distribution over the trellis. Fall is perhaps the best time for grape pruning.—Vick’s Magazine.

Grafting Wax that Will Not Crack. Take 10 pounds resin, 2 pounds beeswax, 1% pounds tallow and melt all together; then add when not too hot pounds finely pulverized charcoal; stir well in while warm, then have a bucket of cold water, pour on the water so it nearly coders, then with the fingers gather together and cool till you can take it In the hands and work it well. Make into rolls an inch or more thick; lay it on a board to cool. When you wish to use, break a roll and melt; apply with a small wooden paddle about one-half inch wide (not too hot). Close up all around well, and you need not look for cracks. Keep rubbing off the sprouts below the grafts as they appear. The wax kept In a cool place will never spoil.—Orange Judd Farmer.

Prepare far Molttn* Beason. The greatest care must be taken to keep fowls In good condition during the molting season. There is apt to be a laxity of attention to their feeding during this period on account of their cessation of laying, when, in fact, there should be more care taken. It Is a good plan to select all the’ fowls that It is desired to winter or keep for breeding and market/ the balance. Hens which will molt early if they are in good condition and comfortably housed will nearly always make the best winter layers, while the later jnolters will rarely lay until spring. These Jatter should have a place where they can keep warm and dry and be given an abundance of nutritions food, Always provide pure, fresh water and keep the quarters dean. Wheat, oats, linseed meal, meat scraps and fresh ground bone* made better food than corn or

anything that may be considered a fattening ration. While it may not be best fb feed the chickens all they will eat, in nearly all cases liberal feeding and the supplying a good variety will be found the most desirable thing to do. The hens need to take sufficient exercise to be healthy— Feather. Benefits of Irrigation. , . A perfect irrigation system constitutes a surface soil Scavenger for carrying away all impurities and poisonous odors from decaying vegetation. Malarial troubles are unknown in the land of irrigation because the spores do not form and cannot exist in a pure atmosphere. The water thoroughly washes the surface, depositing the decomposed substances in the waste ditches, from which it is carried to the streams and borne away,tor da case the waste does not return to the streams, the soil absorbs all disease germs and emits a healthful ozone to be wafted upon the breeze into the fields and homes of the farmers. In all cultivated areas, where irrigation is practiced, the surface soil is filled with channels cut by the water in its rush to the subsoil strata, preventing loggy or sour soil and furnishing a means for self-puri-fication in the air chambers beneath the low point This effects perfect drainage from the highlands and marshes, and leaves no stagnant pools to form miasmatic germs or disease.

Handiness with Tools. One of the most important qualifications needed in one employed in farm work is that he have sufficient mechanical ability not merely to use farm tools, but if need be to repair them. This is more than ever true now that so much of farm work is done through implements in which the horse, steam or wind power furnish the motive power, while the man’s work is only to direct and keep the implement doing Its work. Many of these farm tools require much mechanical Ingenuity to keep them in order. An unskillful man in charge of a reaper or mower will not only fall to accomplish much, but he will very probably have a broken machipe on his hands that it will require a good deal of expense to repair. It is far better to employ men as farm help who are ingenious enough to manage or repair all kinds of machinery, even though they require higher wages. It is this kind of skill that most surely commands good wages everywhere. The Guinea Fowls. These birds must be well known to be appreciated. They are no trouble whatever. They lay their eggs in nests which they make in ths grass and wheat fields; we often find nests with eggs piled on top of each other. From some of the nests we tab® part of the eggs and leave some of them to raise their young. They sit, hatch and raise their broods, and we often Jo not see them until late in the fall, when they bring their chicks home, sometimes as many as twenty in a flock. They are splendid meat to fry or roast or for pot-pie; and to enjoy the breast of fowl one should eat a guinea fowl. The eggs are considered the richest of all eggs and keep well. They may be put up for use in winter. If you try guinea fowls, you are sure to have eggs and fowls for your table, and no trouble tq get them.—Florida Farmer.

Value of the If any bats are found about ybtir barn or other buildings encourage their presence. C. F. fiodge, of Clark Wwegte?. Wj 1£ Country Gentleman, says tqat In an orchard hear his home h§ found pine grubs of the codling moth In one minute. Chancing to Visit another orchard not a mile from the first, he found only four grubs in an hour’s sonreh. The owner of the farms said that in an old barn near by live 75 to ICO bats, and his apples were always free from worms. The naturalist caught a bat and offered It some of the grubs, which were greedily accepted. The codling moth flies only at night; so does the bat—good circumstantial evidence that the bat is a useful friend to the applegrower. Dr. Hodge took haif a dozen bats home and kept them In the parlor. From time to time netfuls ot night-fly-ing insects were released In the room and never a bug remained ln<he morning. The bats took everything, from a spider to a polyphemus moth.

Buckwheat to Clean Land. The midsummer plowing which is required to fit land to seed with buckwheat kills many of the weeds plowed under at this time, and after the grain is up its broad leaf prevent* most of the annual weeds from starting. The buckwheat root and stalk are not eaten, so far as we know, by any kind of worm or Insect. The crop ft sometimes sown three years in succession to starve out cut worms and wire worms, where the land Is so Infested with them that no other crop can be grown. Old Potatoes and New. For some time after new potatoes come into market, the well-preserved old potatoes are best, and are preferred by the careful housewife, whp cares as much for nutritive value as for taste. In the old days, when some potato grated fine was always mixed with the rising for bread, housewives found • that the young potatoes frith very little starch were not so good for this purpose as potatoes grown the previous year. Late Beets. Beets for the table, for a late supply, can be planted until July. As beet seed germinate slowly, a small proportion of radish seed maybeadded, as the radishes will soon come through the ground and show the rows of beets, thus permitting the cultivation of the rows before grass and weeds get possession. It is also an excellent method of growing radishes, as they will be removed before the young beets get a good start.

INDIANA INCIDENTS.

RECORD OF EVENTS OF THM PAST WEEK. | Progress of Labor Troubles at Ander*. '■ son-Women as Street Car Conductor* —Race War at Monroe—Ran Down bjr a Train at Brazil. Concessions to the Striker*. . '■* The wire nail trust has made concez-' sions granting men in the rod mills their old wages, and the mills at Anderson were | started, the strikers returning. The trust | officers announce, however, that absolutely no concession will be made in the wire and nail departments, where the reductions range as high as 40 per cent. The men held a conference and unanimously decided to stay out until the old wage | scale was restored. The trust then began carrying out 1 its threat to nail up the Anderson plants if the men did not accept the reductions. The men were not alarmed. Many say they will enter the regular army in preference to returning at the new wage. The trust also threatens to nail up its Cleveland plant, where a similar state of affairs exists. It has alreadyclosed its plants at Findlay and Salem, Ohio; Beaver Falls, Pa., and other place*. The men refuse to accept the cuts. Seven, hundred men are employed in the plant at Anderson. The strike at the Anderson iron and bolt works, which had been on for a week, was settled by the manufacturers agreeing to pay the scale paid by the Muncie mills. This is simply an equalization, and on an average is not a reduction. It is Mtisfactory to all, and the plants resumwl at once. Women in a New Field. ’ As a matter of economy the management of the Vincennes Street Railway Company‘advertised recently for women to act as conductors. More than fifty applications were made and five young ladies were selected out of the lot. The salary will be only about $5 a week or S2O per month. The uniform consists of a black suit of much the same pattern as that worn by girls in bicycling, and with/ similar waists. All will wear caps inscribed “Conductor.” The girls have gone regularly into service. No trouble has resulted ,but there is considerable talk and some indignation on the part of old employes. Race War Results in Death. & The second battle in the race war at Monroe City- was fought between twenty negroes and thirty whites. One negro was killed, and Constable Joe Barnett, who led the posse of whites, was shot in the hip. A score of shots was fired and stones and clubs were freely used. Many on both sides were badly beaten. During the battle the house was fired and burned. Run Down by a Train. A carriage containing Patrick Mooney, a civil engineer for the Brazil Block Coal Company, his wife and five children, and Miss Tena McDonald, was struck by a train on the Chicago and Eastern Illinois Railroad north of Brazil. Miss McDonald and Miss Hester Mooney were fatally injured. Mr. Mooney:, his wife and two of the children received serious wounds.

Within Our Borders. I At Anderson, Johnson Reynolds’ regur t lator factory was burned. Loss, SIO,OOO. | At Kokomo, Ora Carver, a contractor, | fell from a building and was fatally hurt. John McCauley, pit boss at Jackson Hill mine, Shelburn, was caught by falling ' and instantly killed. At Connersville, the building known a* | the old Huston Hotel was damaged by fire ami jrgjer to the extent « The Enamel works plant at Porter was sold to Louis McCall of Chicago, who j will open an iron fence works with 100 j workmen. ~ " I i Charles Croppie, a bridge carpenter frs.m Bedford Junction, Ohio, was killed • on a bridge at Dunreith by a Panhandle 1 gray cl Lieut. Charles Slade of the 152 d Indiana volunteers, who lived at Goshen, died in the regimental hospital at Tam- J pa, Fla., of malarial fever. At Vincennes, Mrs. Fannie Darley was run over by a Baltimore and Ohio Southwestern Railway switch engine and badly ’i! injured. She cannot recover. Mrs. Frances Anderson, aged 78, a widow, living at Independence, committed suicide by walking out into the Wa- | bash near that place and drowning her- f 3 self in shallow water. It is supposed her mind had become unbalanced. Mrs. Hannah Clark, a wealthy widow 1 of Elkhart County, has given to the city 'of Elkhart the Clark Homeopathic Hospital end Training School for Surgeons j and Nurses. The building is modernly equipped and valued at $15,000. | The west-bound Air Line passenger was wrecked at Georgetown and Engineer I William Cravens of New Albany, John Elwood of Corydon Junction, a passenger, and an unknown tramp were killed. A switch engine standing On the track | without a signal caused the wreck. All union painters employed by mem- | bers of the Contractors’ Association at Indianapolis quit work. The contractors | have been paying 30 cents an hour, but at | a recent meeting resolved to pay “what " men are worth,” it being understood that I no more than 25 cents an hour would be paid. J George W. Hall of the State Board of | Health and State Veterinarian F. Balser i of New Castle have examined the dairy cows in New Albany which were affected with anthrax. They were found to be | improving, and as they are effectually quarantined a spread of the disease is not feared. Gas belt labor organizations and the strikers have taken steps to ascertain f whether the new Indiana anti-trust laws ,’3 are of any avail. The wire nail trust’* ’ action in shutting down and nailing up it* 9 plants because the men would not accept ■ wage reductions ranging as high as 40 ’ per cent affords an opportunity to test the J law. Gov. Mount has been asked to be- S gin proceedings. Fire destroyed four ricks of cornstalks | at Linden. These stalks cost $3 per ton I and are used in the cellulose factory. The total loss .will be near $2,000. Origin of fire unknown. Morrison Goens, head foreman of the Romona oolitic stone quarry, near Bpen- ‘ cer, was instantly killed by the breuking '9 of a derrick. The channeler which it > was lifting fell on him. . J George Oler, 50 years old, a prominent d Hagerstown farmer, committed suicide. 2 .He was found in a barn by his wife with 2 his head nearly severed and a raaor hr 2 his band. The motive is unknown.