Jasper County Democrat, Volume 6, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 May 1903 — Page 6

MICHAEL

« HB had Juat returned from the crowded concert hall, where she m** had enjoyed a veritable triumph. Har face was flushed and smiling, and Bhe atlll held In her hands the great hoeqeet of rosea—her favorite flower — which had been given her as she left the platform. She was recalled to her •BBOtmdlnga by the voice of her maid, Fanchon. “There is a telegram for mad ame on the table,” she said. Denise picked it ap; It was addressed to “Mrs. Flelden," which was unusual. She was known to the London world and her friends as “Madame Elena.” She opened it sharply. It was brief and to the point: “I think it la right to let you know that the boy Is seriously ill.—Michael.” Unconsciously she crushed the message In her hand, and her thoughts flew to the Lincolnshire village where It had heen written. She saw again the flat tea-land, the long stretches of empty wastes, which she had grown to loathe, timost to fear; nil the grayness and barrenness which were so antagonistic to Mr gay, beauty-loving nature. Then the •cent of the roses smote her shandy, she saw the luxury of her own surroundings, the signs of taste and monagr everywhere, and turning to the maid, ■he cried: “Bring me an ‘A. R. C.’ and pack a hag. I am going Into the country.” “Shall I attend, madameV" “No, l don’t know how long I shall be away. I will write.” Her lips twitched aa she thought of the fashionable French maid In - the bare manorhouse with old Hannah for company. “I wonder If he Is really very 111?” ehe pondered, ns she sat in the train. “I think Michael would scarcely have aent for me unless lie were. The meeting will be as awkward and uncomfortable for him as for me. Poor little Michael —what a name to give a child! —I wonder what he is like now? He was not a pretty or interesting child. I remember be was always crying.” There was no one lo meet her when she arrived, hut that she did not expect, though the village fly had been sent to the station on the chance of her com*>g. After a drive of nearly an hour she recognized a familiar gateway; she remembered the old coat-of-arms cut In he stonework, though she could not see Hi now, with the motto, “I live! I die!” that was nil the Eieldens had been Tietag for generations. It was a decay®s** race, and they laid not had the energy, or perhaps the power, to stop the n(ln that was creeping on them, and the man who lived there now had grown sear and bitter with his balked life. “Master is upstairs,” old Ilanieih said distantly, in reply to Denise’s greeting. “He hoped you would excuse him eomtag down, but the child is very restless to-night, and can’t well be left. If you will please to sit down and take something I will tell him you are here." And ■he opened the door of a room where a frugal meal was laid. “I dou’t want anything, thank you," Denise said, hastily. “I will go up at wee If I may,” and before Hannah roold raise any objection she was half Way up the stairs. Bhe beard a murmur from the oak bedroom, where the head of the house was always born and where most of them had died, and tapping lightly on the door she went In. No one had heard her, and for an lusiant she stood as though arrested on the threshold. What a great room It was! And bow solitary those two figures looked In it! “1 am sorry to trouble you,” the man oaM, getting up ns she moved. “I am afraid you have had a long, tiring journey; but 1 thought you ought to know.” “You did quite right,” she said, thickly. What a pitiful, little shrunken form ft was, looking almost lost in the vast •ak bedstead, of which it was a tradition that each successive Flelden should carve a panel, so that It had always ■waned to Denise a weird resting-place, belonging to tlie dead rather than the Ivhig. She hud woke up more than •nee on a moonlight night fancying ghostly lingers had come back to finish what here and there had been left Incomplete. “Oh, you poor little soul!” she cried, o oob iu her voice, and the next mo■Mnt her arms were over the bed, and Aft little figure was gathered to her breost, where she crooned over It, calling her baby, her little Michael, whom A* had treated so badly, reproaching boroelf and showering soft kisses on (be wan face in the same breath. “H* is very weak; you must not excite him,” a warning voice said. She bad forgotten that any one was there, Hid the calm, measured tones were like o rebuff. The old feeling of restraint cad tear held her for a moment, but fjhe mother love, which had woke up for the first iime at sight of the forlorn, ■offering child, rose stronger than anything else. “I shall not hurt him," she said, boldtog the boy close to her breast. “See, bolt already more content.” The little Ac* certainly looked less tired and hrwhled, and one wasted arm bad gone ■p around her neck, while he made hlm■off at home as a matter of course in Aooe unknown arms. . “Has he been long like this?” she adhed. “You ought to have told me a* “Bo was never strong, as you may re atppaher,” be answered coldly “He Am not-take after my family; he pines < An warmth' and sunshine, aa you did. 1 aanat remind you that you have never omm me reason to think you took any particular Inter eat In him. 1 was not

at all certain that you would come now.” j, “Not come!” she exclaimed. Then she remembered. “I beg your pardon,” she said humbly; you are quite right It Is I who am to blame —I who am In the wrong. But—but,” her voice growing husky, “I did not know he wanted me so badly. I was so young when I went away—l am not very old now—and I did not understand many things. Perhaps If you bad reasoned with me—ls you bad pointed out “Do you think I wanted a captive Instead of a wife?” be asked harshly. “I saw how you fretted and pined like a caged creature; I saw the hunted look In your eyes; I knew you would wear your life out in a little If It went on.” . “It was so dull —so dreary,” she murmured, “and nobody wanted me, not even you, I think, after a little while. I interrupted your studies; I was restlcfs and disturbed your routine, so when my legney came It seemed to open a way of escape. I thought it was better for us to go our own road before we learned to hate each other. I had a gift, only one, hut It would not let me rest until I had tried what It was worth. I ought not to have married.” “No doubt It was a mistake, but In Justice I must say that that was more my fault than yours. 1 was years older, and I took advantage of your youth and Ignorance to fasten a bond on you of which you did not understand the import. No doubt you knew yourself best. You have the life that suits you; you were free to go your own way.” “As you yours." “As I mine.” Something In the voice made Denise move uneasily. For six years the man and the child had lived here together; her husband, her child. For six years she had nearly forgotten. them both; not quite, though she had tried to do so. The man and the child had been growing old together—without love or happiness—while she had laughed and sung. There was nothing young in the hr se—not even the little form she held iu her arms. A week had passed, and little Michael, thinks (as the doctor plainly said) to his mother’s devoted nursing and the Interest she created In the child's mind, was picking up his frail life again. He was never tired of looking at her, or admiring all the pretty things that gathered about her as a matter of course; he had never seen so many flowers, so much dainty luxury in his brief existence. “’You use these every day?” he asked in an awed voice, as he amused himself with the silver pots aqd bottles on her dressing tnble. “Yes, every day,” she said with a gay little laugh. “Do you think I am very extravagant?” “Father hasn't anything pretty in his room, I like to be here best,” he said, lying back luxuriously among the bright cushions which his mother had ordered from the neighboring town. She opened her lips to speak, closed them again without a word. Denise was sitting alone one evening la the faded drawing-room when her husband came in. As a rule she saw very little of him; they seemed to avoid each other by tactic consent. “There is something I wish to say to you when you are at leisure,” he began. She thought how worn and gray he looked, though he was a man in the prime of life, as he stood before her, the bard light from the setting sun showing up the lines on his cold, stern face, as It showed up the patches of damp on the wall paper and the unloveliness of the beautifully designed room. He and it both seemed thrown away under their present circumstances. “I am quite at your service,” she answered. “Little Michael is in bed and asleep, and I have nothing to do.” “It is about him I wish to speak,” he said, as be sat d«wn. “He is almost well again now.” “He Is very delicate still,” she said quickly. “He needs a great deal of care —be could not stand much.” Could be mean that they wanted her no longer? she herself with a thrill of fear. “As you say, he needs a great deal of care.” he answered slowly. “He also needs more comfort and different surroundings to what I can give him. I have wondered —I have wondered,” he repeated, “if you would like to take him with you when you go?” “Like to take him?” she echoed, her face lighting up with joy. “Need you ask me?”

“No, perhaps not. I have thought that you seemed attached to him.” “Attached?” she repeated again with a laugh. “1 love him with all my heart. I couldn’t bear to be parted from him new. But don’t you mind?” looking at him with Inward resentment at his In-, difference. “Won’t you be very lonely without him?” ‘ “It will be best for the child to be with you for a time at least, I think, as you are willing to hnve him. As you say, be Is not strong enough to stand any shock, and be would miss you. I suppose your engagements will necessitate your returning to town socn?” “Yes, I ought to have gone before,” flushing at bis evidently anxlenty to get rid of her. “We will go aa soon as the doctor says he can travel.” Then as be was leaving the room, “I—l should like to thank you very much for trusting me —for letting me have him.” “There is no need. I have been thinking it over and It seems beat tor the boy*”, be answered, aa be dosed tbe door. • t “Of cotaae there would be no thought

of at* In It,” she said to beraelf blttea* ly> “I wonder why be ha tea mo ao much now? Once upon a time,” the rose color In her cheeke growing deeper, “I am sure he cared for me more than a little In his curloua restrained way.” It was still early when she went upstairs to bed, but she was tired of her own company. As she lit the candles the boy opened bis eyes—he slept In a little bed In heir room now—and called to her. o ,‘Tm not a bit sleepy. Come and talk to me, mother,” be said. She'sat down In the low cbalr and laid her head on his pillow as he liked to have her. “I’ve got something to tell you, sweetheart,” she said, tucking one of hie hands under her cheek. “What do you think iias happened? Yon are to come with me to mother’s home. How will you like that?” A wise and more prudent mother would have hesitated to excite the child at that hour, but Denise was a creature of Impulse. “Go away with you and see all the beautiful things you have told me about? Do yod really mean It, mother? How lovely!” springing up In bed with shining eye*. “And is father coming, too?” “Father does not want to come, darling.” The childish face grew grave. “It will be dull for father all alone here,” be said, seriously. “You ask him to come, mother; he’ll comefor you.” “Not for me, for me perhaps least of all,” she murmured, forgetting that she was talking to a child; but little Michael was wiser than his years. “Go, now, mother,” he said, coaxingly. “Try. Wait, I’ll toll you a secret; It can’t be wrong taiell you. Father keeps a picture of you locked up, I saw him looking at It one night, and—and," in an awed whisper, “he kissed it before he put it away. People must love a person very much to kiss their picture, •mustn’t they, mother?” Kisses had been rare luxuries in his life. “Kissed my picture? Are you sure, little Michael?” The child nodded, watching her intently. Denise thought of how she was going to make the desolate home more desolate, and the tears rushed to her eyes, “I’ll try, my sonny—-I’ll try for your sake” she cried, and she went from the room. Her heart was beating fast with fear and excitement as she hurried down the stairs before her courage failed her. What If he should be angry; what if he should repulse her? She shivered at the thought. She softly opened the library door, where he was in the habit of sitting at night. A lamp was burning dimly on the table In the center of the room, and Its light fell on the bowed head of a man; some books and papers bad been overturned as he threw out his arms, and mutely emphasized that aspect of despair. Denise forgot her fears. “Michael!” she cried in a sobbing voice, her arm round his neck, her cheek to his —“Michael; I’ve been a bad wife, but I want to be a better one. Will you take me back?” He looked up, aud she saw that his eyes were wet “Is that you?” he said, heavily. What Is it? —what has happened?” softly, “except that I have found out that.l want you. We both want you, little Michael and I. You won’t send us away—or you will come, too?” ' “Want me—you?" he said in a husky whisper. "Is It really true, Denise?” He held her In bis arms as one bolds something very precious that one is half afraid to touch. “I had almost given up praying and hoping.” Black and White.

WOMAN’S PRINCIPLES.

Most Suitable aud Satisfactory Thing She Cun Acquire. After all that has been done- for American women by legislators and educators, and college builders and reformers, It still remains true that the most valuable possessions a normal woman can acquire rs a suitable and satyhictory man. Nothing else is quite so serviceable iu promoting the fulfillment of her destiny and her comfort while It is in the process of fulfillment. Nothing else If she Is normal—and here are very few women who are nrft considerably normal—quite takes a man’s place with her, says Harper’s Weekly. One of her most valuable privileges is that of selecting her man, of picking and choosing and taking her time about it, and possibly even of changing her mind after she had begun to think she knew it. It is observed that women who are good, and have the luck to be charming also, have great advantages In carrying this important process of selection to al successful issue. More men are available for such girls to choose from, and once the choice is made the resulting contentment is more apt to endure and to wax, instead of diminishing., The most that legislatures can do for married women is to protect them from bad husbands. Choosing good ones is a matter of personal enterprise which laws can do little to promote. But, of course, a woman who has few rights and is in complete possession of a satisfactory and competent husband is better off than if she had more rights amd no satisfactory means of realizing her destiny. If the American girl ever has to choose between her rights and her privileges —-Including the privilege of being charming, and this Invaluable privilege of selecting a man that Buits her —she will undoubtedly do well, as Miss Daskam advises, to hold on to her privileges and let her rights go. Bat she will hardly have to make such a choice. She will retain her privileges, anyway, and all the rights she can make up her mind to. want, besides. When a man doesn’t use tobacco In any form, we wonder bow It happened.

GARDEN AND FARM

PLANTING THE CORN CROP. v It matters not how soon corn may he planted, or how late such work may be deferred; the most Important detail in the growing of corn is the plowing, as upon the preparation of the aoil will depend the ability of the crop to endure drought. It Is not unusual for a prolonged dry spell to Injure growing corn from May to August, and the difference In the amount of moisture in a badly prepared soil and one that has received special attention will be very marked. Not only should deep plowing be- practiced, but the ground should be harrowed as fine as possible. The rule of a successful corn grower, who secures good crops, is to harrow twice as long as it may seem necessary. When the work of harrowing is finished, and the seed not planted on account of the weather, or some other drawback, it is always well to harrow again just before planting, and fully as much as before. TJie summary of the ipatter i 3 * OO much harrowing cannot be given the land for corn. When the seed .is planted the rows should be perfectly straight, which will be of much advantage after the plants are up. The seed should be carefully examined, and it is better to use enough seed and get too many plants (which may be thinned out), than to be compelled to replant, as replanted corn comes* too late to be properly fertilized with the pollen, which accounts for the lower yields of fields that have been replanted. Get the seed in the ground as early as possible (avoiding liability of frost), so a 3 to give the young plants an early start. The corn plant is a gross feeder, and It is an excellent crop upon which to put the coarse manure, but fine manure is better. The manure should be spread, so as to be worked in at the time of harrowing. Corn sends it roots In all directions, feeding near the surface, hence there will be no loss of manure If it is fine, as the roots will not miss anything that serves as a food. The amount of fertilizer to use depends on whether sod is turned under and well decomposed. On sod land, In fair condition, those who have made experiments find that an excellent fertilizer may be composed of 100 pounds nitrate of soda, 200 pounds ground dry fish, 250 ponds of acid phosphate and 220 pounds muriate of potash or high grade sulphate of potash. This gives . 30 pounds nitrogen, 40 pounds phospheric acid and 110 pounds potash. On land that is somewhat poor the nitrate of soda may be doubled and the phosphate and potash increased about 10 per cent. When manure is used the proportion of fertilizer materials may consist of 50 pounds nitrat of soda and 100 pounds each of ground dir fish, acid phosphate and muriatie of potash. There can be no safe rule to follow, however, as the quantity of manure used, and its quality and availability, must be considered. Where manure was used previous year on some other crop it is possible that a portion of the plant food was left over and the corn will secure it. The proportions of fertilizer recommended lire for one acre, and the best results will be obtained when the materials are broadcasted and harrowed in, as It may be Injurious to the young plants to use too much fertilizer In hills should a dry season prevail. Corn should be cultivated from the start. The weeder is a new Implement now in extensive use; it makes sad havoc with the early weeds without injuring the young corn, and it is also -a very simple contrivance. Many farmers, however, who have not changed their methods, prefer, to begin with a smoothing harrow for the first working and then use the cultivator. The weeder should be used only for young weeds. The cultivator is the proper implement after the corn gets well under way, and after the spring rains are followed by * dry weather, as the stirring of the surface soil is one of the surest modes of protecting JJie crop from the effects of drought. If the plowing Is deep, and the soil harrowed fine, it will absorb and hold more water than when the work is not so carefully done, and this stored water in the soil is retained by the blanket of loosa soil made by the cultivator. The cultivator also destroys the weeds and grass, and as the weeds will rob the plants of moisture it is important that they L be. destroyed as soon as they come up ' out of the ground. Never allow weeds or grass to grow In the corn rows as long as the cultivator can be used, and never “lay by” the corn as long as a horse can be worked in the rows if weeds or grass are noticed. Shallow cultivation is better than going deeper, as the object should be not to disturb the corn roots mote than is compulsory, and the cultivation should be done both ways, as close to the plants as possible.—Philadelphia Record. CHOOSING THE MILCH COW. Thoroughly examine jtfctf- cow you buy for dairy purposes. This requires some knowledge ,of cattle and a good eye to note defects as well as good points. v - r If the cow be In good health the hide will be soft and pliable, the hair smooth and glossy. If the skin be more or less hide bound and the hair dead looking, yon may safely assume that poor digestion and its consequent poor nutrition are at the bottom of the trouble. This last may come from a lack of nourishing food, and with a change to nutritious diet health may be ra-

stored, although, as It usually Is causea by some chronic disease, one should, in loosing a dairy cow, pass such a one by. Cows-, besides having tuberculosis, have kidney, liver and other diseases. It is dangerous to use milk from cows afflicted with the incipient forma of such diseases, to say nothing of the disease in well advanced stages. If a cow goes after her food with animation, eating until satisfied and then lying down to ruminate, it Is a* sign of health; but if, after a few mouthfuls, she turns away and humps up in a corner or prepares to lie down, look out for impaired health in some way. >- Heavy breathing and too quick is a sign of trouble, if not exactly in the lungs, at least along the respitory tract. Look with suspicion on a cough. In tuberculosis, except In the last stage, the cough is very feeble—a mere hack. And often in the last stages It still remains so. A good, jstrong cough usually indicates some trouble that will yield to treatment. Such a cough is not, as a rule, indicative of lung disease. is to close the nostrils tightly with your hand, and if the cow coughs when the pressure is removed you may find inflammation or other trouble of the respitory organs. - ' - Good respiration is essential to a good milk flow. In making choice of' a cow, see that the chest i 3 long and the ribs set far apart to give lung capacity. Large, tortous milk veins are always present with the gbod milker. A dull eyed cow seldom proves a good milk cow. A hollow'back is a sign of poor breeding, or hastened maturity. The neck, of a good milker is delicate in proportion to her general build, and a little out of proportion as to length. Hind quarters must be heavy and set well apart. A cow with an extra milk flow should be a hearty eater. A good milch cow i 3 seldom a handsome cow.*—lndianapolis News.

PUDDLING THE ROOTS. The advice is often given to puddle the roots of trees and other plants before planting. In puddling, a quantity of soil is stirred with water until it becomes a paste of a rather thick consistency. The roots are then immersed in this and thoroughly coated over. This practice has and yet its purpose should be kept clearly in mind. If followed blindly, as it sometimes is, bad results follow. In a puddles soil the soil particles are compacted, making it practically an impervious soil and one that excludes both air and moisture. This impervious coat of cemented soil, as it were, may serve as an excellent protection to prevent the roots of plants from drying out and being exposed to the air while in transit. However, it should always be removed before planting, especially on plants having small roots, such as tho strawberry. If -planted In a puddled condition the roots are bundled together in a mass instead of being properly spread out so that each one comes in contact with the moist soil. In addition to this the roots of all plants require oxygen. This coat-of cemented soil is largely impervious and hence oxygen is excluded, which is not a good condition for growth. The feeders of the plant sffe the delicate threadlike hairs which are emitted freely on the distant ends of the roots. If the roots are planted with this puddled coat on them, especially if it has been allowed to out and harden, the root hairs are unable to penetrate it. In fact, with the improved methods of packing where the boxes are first lined with a heavy paper to pVevent drying out of the plants and then damp jposs is used to hold the moisture to the roots, the old, puddling process is of questionable value. Better methods of shipping plants are now In vogue. At any rate, If it Is used, strawberries and other plants should not be planted before it is removed. —National Fruit Grower.

VARIATIONS IN WOOD ASHES. There is no commercial fertilizer that is more variable in composition than wood ashes, and While such ashes are valuable under certain conditions it is unsafe to.buy them without first having the percentage of potash ascertained by an analysis. Experiments have shown that there is a vast range in the percentage of potash in different samples of wood ashes, hence, without the analysis, as suggested, one may easily be led into paying double the value of the ashes. There is not much variation in the phosphoric acid content, but as the chief need of tbe wood ashes is for the potash content, one easily sees the importance of being reasonably sure the ashes contain the desired proportion of potash. The value of this suggestion would be easily seen If the crop to be grown were potatoes, where if the ashes were used as a fertilizer at all they would be used almost wholly for the potash they contained. —Indianopolis News.

FARM TIMBER CULTURE. At the present rate of consumption the timber supply of the United States in view will, according to B. E. Fer* non, be exhausted within thirty years. As sixty to one hundred years are required for the production of a full crop millable timber, and for other reasons, few farmers can engage in this business. For the production of wood for fuel purposes, however, the time required is only twenty to thirty years, and waste lands may be utilized for thta purpose. It is claimed also that catalpa can be profitably grown for railroad ties and fence posts, also chestnut for the same purposes. Physicians believe that one good turn deserves another. The doctor pays a visit and the. visit pays the poctor.

Opportunities In the South. • No portion of the United State* has made greater progress in the past year or two than the South. Northern and foreign capital is rapidly invading that section, finding profitable investment in the various industries and factories that are being rapidly developed and built. The great influx of settlers is creating an increased demand for lands of all kinds, and prices are gradually advancing, as they will for years - to come. Work is plentiful and poverty practically unknown. Alabama it supplying coal and iron to all the workl. More money can be made and with less labor in the raising of small fruits and berries and in truck patching along the Gulf Coast than in any other state in the Union. Strawberries from Alabama reach Northern martlets before those from the states in the southeast. Cattle ean be raised with great profit* there being millions of acres of cheap range lands. If you are interested in the south and its resources and desire information on any subject, address Q. A. PARK, General Industrial and Immigration Agent, ‘ LOUISVILLE S NASHVILLE RAILROAD, LOUISVILLE. ICY.

)i;iii:iiitT>TTnn Chicago to the Northwest, Indianapolis, Cincinnati and the South, Louisville, and French Lick Springs. Eensselaer Time-Table, In Effect June 29,1902. South Bound. No. s—Louisville Mail, (daily) 10:55 a. m No. 33 Indianapolis Mail, (daily).. 2.•01 p. m* No. 39—Milkaccomra., (daily) 6:15 p.mNo. 8— Louisville Express, (daily).. 11:25 p. m•No. 43—Local freight 2:40 p. a* -©. 31—Fast Mail . 4:49 a. m North Bound. 'o. 4—Mail, (daily) 4:30 a.m. o. 40—Milk aecomm., (daily) 7:31a. ns. 'o. 82-Fast Mall, (daily) 9:33 a. as. io. 6—Mail and Express, (daily).». 3:30 p.m. No.3o—Cin. to Chicago Ves. MailT. 6:32 p.m. tNo. 38—Cin. to Chicago 2:57 p.m. •No. 46—Local freight. /. 9:55 a. m. •Dally except Sunday. (Sunday only. Hammond has been made a regular stop for No. 30. No. 32 and 33 now stop at Cedar Lake. Fbask d. Rns, G. P.A., W. H. McDoelm President and Gen. M’g’r. Chas. H. Rockwell,, Traffic M’g’r. CHieaao. - W. H. Bias, Agent. Rensselaer.

CITY OFFICERS. Mayor J. H. 3. Bills Marshal Mel Abbott Clerk Charles Morlan Treasurer Janies H. Chapman Attorney Geo. A. William* Civil Engineer J. C. Thrawla Fire Chief ...C. B. Steward COUSCILMZN. lit ward .....Henry Wood, Fred Phillips td ward W. S. Parks, B. F. Ferguson 3d ward J.C. McColly, Peter Waasoa COUNTY OFFICERS. Clerk John F. Major Sheriff ....Abram G. Hardy Auditor ~W.C. Babcock Treasurer R. A. Parkison. Recorder.. Robertß. Porter Surveyor l.Myrt B. Prion Coroner Jenninga Wright Supt. Public Schools Louis H. Hamilton Assessor John R. PhilUpn COMMISSIONERS. Ist District Abraham Halleek 2nd District > Frederick Waymire 3rd District Charles T: Denham Commissioners’ court—First Monday of each mouth. COUNTY BOARD OF EDUCATION. TRUSTEES. TOWNSHIPS. Joseph Stewart Hanging Grovn John Ryan r .........Gillans Lewis Shrier Walker Elias Arnold Barkley Charles M. Blue Marion John Bill Jordan Geo. M. Wilcox.... Newton S. L. Luce ..........Kenner Thomas F. Maloney .„Kankanea Stephen D. Clark .....Wheatfield Albert J. Bellows Carpenter William T. Smith Milroy Barney D. Comer ■ Union Louis H. Hamilton. Co. Supt Rensseleer G. E. Hollingsworth..- ..Rensselaer George Basse Remington Geo. O. Stembel ..i. .Wheatfield JUDICIAL. Circuit Judge., Charles W. Hanley Prosecuting attorney John D. Sink Terms of Court—Second Monday in February, April, September and November. /%’afBEVIVO JgW«|«ESIO«EB VITALITY loan* man will regain their lost manhood, sad eld nee win recover their youthful vigor by ustng BKVIVO. It qaickiy sod sorely restores Byronstgetlbwer, WssUds PlsiseeiLepd gpgplgig mo omnCS the money. Advice end circular free. AOdroos in Rensselaer by I, A. Loooft An armful of old paper* for m nickel at The Democrat office. > rT _>* %