Jasper Weekly Courier, Volume 21, Number 4, Jasper, Dubois County, 24 January 1879 — Page 6

A DOUMLM NEQJLTIYX,

i. HU. ' Tea year you 'DearXeU, Awd Jmmlu yew? Xut vh( Vtw etttiM, tteaeW; , X mhl teave, Wtt. Met Umix Jt H'wtr 4mt, Age." II. SMK. " Tm years Aie. WltK MHN, Net W YM KtHt, Dear Xetl, XM) iNMIIlI Hn w footWfe yeu ! Yem preM? Xjgatlve tWO Yvun t4rs, MMRt'l'Mt' Tw year Aor zoo. Have you vw been eat to the Zoo TH InMHtUul 'AH, Zoo, nowhere tae Hens erowl awl the tigers bowl At tke sHjnnk of the twokHtoe; Where the e4er badgem the tweak AujI allmbti e tke tdttt&HtiL's trunk : . WMN the wuHwl huwjw uMd the baboon Ah4 tltemg snake swallows the skunk? There Ike rabbit, f-blverlHf-lee, SItt (MMriHl a mMtrv)l caa Be, While the aaaeotMla kUw Bp a Hmb And owm au eye on he. There the meoee, wi light &hU free, In eklppietc the tra-la-lee, ' Ami mm hf)i)KjHtHHS rolto in the mud And )Mrt( with the bmable-bec There the owb Kit up In a rew Aml eolemnly blink at the erew; The sea Hon ttperte, and the aleth eavorte Keeide tlte bounding doe. And the eoon make love to the gnn, While the Barbery ho oltew glite, Ami the buffalo pit on a hlekory-llmb Ar1 winks at the kangaroo. 0 tho beautiful Zoo, Zoo, Zoo Where the wild-cat purr and mew, And the boa-eou-trietor playfully bltee The ear ef the cockatoo. KIDNAPED. Ten years ago, the laws regulating admission into insane asylums in so,nie of tbe States were so lax, that sane people were too frequently incarcerated in them. Eleven perfectly rational, persons were at one time released by order of court from one of these institutions. It was during this period that the following incidents occurred. Shortly afterwards the laws in the State in whioh the events took place were amended so that such abuses became practically impossible. In 1865, a young lad named Walter Dunbar arrived in Philadelphia, and presented himself in the counting-room of Mr. George M'Cann, a dealer In furs. Tbe boy was the son of one of Mr. M'Cann's old friends, Hugh Dunbar, a planter in Maryland, who had died two or three months before, leaving his whole property to his son. "Ia two years," said the lad, "I shall he of age. My father gave me a contmeroiei education. He advised me to come to Philadelphia and learn the business of a farrier with you if you were willing to take me into jour store. Old Diogenes,' be said, 'would find no more honest man than yourself, if he searched tbe world over.' " Mr. M'Cann smiled, but his eyes grew dim, "Hugh and I have been friends since boyhood," he said, quietly. "I shall be glad to help his son." "My father's plan was," said young Dunbar, " if I should like the business, and you should be willing to take me as a partner, that when I am of age, that I should invest my capital with you. My guardian, Col. Tboupe, opposes this plan violently. Bat I came on to fulfill my father's wishes." "Col. Thorpe is your father's halfbrother, I thins.." " Yes," young Dunbar added after apavee, "and beirto his estate if I should die." ' v " Not much chance for the Colonel," said Mr. McCaan, laughing as he scanned the boy's ruddy face and broad shoulders. "I hope not. I mean to live as long as I oea. As soon as I am of ace, too. I mean to settle part of my fortune on my sietev Jessy," said Walter, with a sort of dogged obstinacy in his manner, which hadalready impressed Mr. HeCans as a noticeable feature in his character. "Did your father leave another child?" he said, surprised. " No. But he married a widow after my mother's death. She wae a tender mother to me if she wae a step-mother. Jeeey is her daughter. My step-mother died a year ago, and my father always intended te provide tor Jeeey in hie will, bat he negkfeted to do so. shall not neglect it. I promised him on his death-bed to be good to her." "nd your uncle, the Colonel, doee not approve of Jeeey as a dependent?11 shrewdly guessed Mr. M'Cann. "No. I brought her here with me. She is 15 years old. I thought you would be good enough to advise me where to place her at school. I have some ready money, and that, with my allowance, will be enough for us both until I am of age, if we economise." The end of the matter wae that Mr. M'Cann took the boy and his sister, who ptoredto be a bright, affectionate little girl, into hk own bene o board. They needed a home and that motherly eare whieh good Mrs. M'Cann, one of the kindest and strictest of Scotch women, wae able to give them. The arrangement was, too, in every way pliaeeat to the M'Ceons. Young Dunbar, though no scholar; was possessed of sound, shrewd good sense and high nriaefpk, Dm beet material for a business man. Mr. M'Cann looked for ward with plsasura to his partnership in the arm. The business now was hot a small one, for Mr. M'Cann was comparatively a poor man. " But with your eapital and my expemnee, Walter," he would nay, "we ean soon takVa leading plasmtsn here,

though Philadelphia ie one of the great far-markets of the country." Dunbar received his allowance quarterly. It wae email, But he stinted himself in every expense. The money which other young fellows spent in oigars, jewelry or drink, went lor Jeeey 's clothes or schooling, Early in the spring of '68, he appeared in the office one morning in great excitement, but with the dogged obstinacy showing stronger than usual in his face. " What is wrong, Walter?" asked Mr. MoCann. " I have had a letter from Col. Thorpe. He formally demands that I shall return to Baltimore at once, give up, Jessy, and enter hie family, as being totally incompetent to take oare of myself. He had better take care how he pushes me too olosely to the wall,!" said the young fellow, his faee growing hard and stern. Two days later, a meseenger-boy oatue into the office and handed waiter a note. Walter was observed to flush and look pleased. He took up his hat hurriedly and left the office. He did not return. When night came, be failed to appear at the house, Mr. M'Cann searohed for him, and the next morning called in the aid of the police. The messenger-boy was found. He said that the note was given to him by a lady stopping at the Continental Hotel. But the lady had left town on a night train, and could not be traced. Walter had not been seen at the hotel.

For weeks tbe search was kept up. If Mr. M'Cann had been the boy's father, he could not have been more zealous or anxious. But Walter Dunbar had van isbed as utterly as if the earth had opened and swallowed him. Mr. M'Cann wrote finally to Col. Thorpe, stating the circumstances, and received an answer from a clerk in his office, to the effect that the Colonel had sailed for Europe and proposed to remain there for several years. What was to be done f 1 be search was kept up, but in vain. Little Jessy, friendless and penniless, remained with the M'Cann?, who treated her as one of their own children, though but ill able A - J At - 1 1 1 . , 1 . . . J to oear ine auauionat uuruen. A voar two years-passed, and WalV t ter Dunbar had not been heard from. , Even Mr. M'Cann began to lose hope, and to think of the boy as dead. It seems tuat tno note winch Dunbar had received was signed by the namo of i an old friend of his father's. It stated brienv that slic was in town, and wished 1 to see him; that she was going to drive in the park, and would be glad if he j would accompany her. The carriage, a close hack, waited at the corner of the street. Walter ran i out, beaming with pleasure, sprang into it, and was driven rapidly away. In a few moments the carnage stop ped again, and a gentleman entered, while another took hie seat with the driver. The man who came inside introduced himself as Mr. Crane, of Baltimore, a friend of Mrs. Drake's, He proved very entertaining, and Walter did not at first observe that the carriage was going to the suburbs of the town. " Mrs. Drake is at a friend's house in the country to-day'," explained Mr. Crane. "We are to call for her there and take her to the park." Presently they drove iato spacious ., - . A . , - ,,l grounds, and up to the door of a noble mansion. v alter, wun msnew menus, 8B.l?J' i ,, . , ' -Ann way, u yuupiea," sam an , attendant. The next moment he was in a cell, and the door bolted and barred behind him. It was a private insane asylum. The only requisite for admission was a certificate from a physician in Maryland (who had, by the way, never seen the boy), that he was insane, and a warrant from a magistrate. Both of which papers Col. Thorpe had paid for. As soon as the boy was safely incarcerated, the Colonel proceeded to take out a commission of lunacy, and the tbe lad's estate passed wholly into his control. There was no possibility of his release unless by tbe Colonel's permission. . There is no need to linger on Walter's rage and despair. He wrote letters to hie friends, to lawyers, to the press, which the attendants quietly burned. He urged, pleaded, stormed with his keepers, and they listened with stolid indifference, putting him in a strait jacket when he grew violent. At last he became quiet. Then they said his mania wae of the sullen kind, and therefore more dangerous. Walter knew that if he could once escape, he was safe. It woald be impossible for hie guardian to prove him insane before any court. But he was guarded as securely as any prisoner in the penitentiary. Twice, when he had grappled with his keeper, he had been felled and beaten until life was nearly gone. One day, two years after his imprisonment, as the boy walked up and down the ward, he heard a squeaking voice repeat "Deuce-ace! Always deuce-ace!" in despairing tenet. Walter nad heard thhi cry a thousand times, but, lost in hk own wretchedness, had never noticed from whence it came. The place was full of strange sounds, absurd, piteous, but all full of misery. To-day, however, he woke, as if from a dream, at thin sound, and turning, saw a feeble old man bondiug over a bakgaamoB-bord, playing with himself. His game had lasted for ;aatsomhis faoe filled Walter's heart with sudden pity. What if he was a prisoner for life? What if he had lost Jeeey, his friends, fortune all? Something yet was left

to him. He eould make life mom easy

fur others. "Can I speak to him F" heaekedhie keener. "To old Deuoe-aoe? I reckon so," the man said, puffing at hie pipe. " If you'd make up to some ol yeur like, I'd not freed to keep sueh a waten on you," addine to another keeper, "it's waen they're mum they're hatchin' devilry." " Why do you play alone?" asked Walter, of the okl man. "Nobody will play with me." The bleared eyes suddenly lightened. "Will you? oh, will you, my boy?" Walter sat down and took up the dice box. It was pathetic to see the delight of the old man. especially when be won. which Walter took oans that lie should do. With all his madness, he was oourte ous and refined, having been an educa ted gentleman. Day after day Walter devoted himself to this man, playing and losing countless " hits." The vigi lance of his keeper relaxed. " He's as silly as old Deuoe-ace," he said to his fellows. As Walter sat one day throwing the dice and humoring the feeble fancy of the old man, a quick disgust overcome him. What an occupation was this for him, an able, strong young man, while other men were working with brain and body in the world. He threw down the box. The next moment he shut his lips and took it up. " It is all that God gives me to do, and I'll do it," he said to himself, and was more gentle than before with his old companion. That night he was alone in his cell. The door was open, the keeper at supper. Deuce-ace came to him, trembling with excitement. "I'm going out as potatoes! potatoes!" he whispered. "I'll take you with me. None of the rest would play with me. Quick! quiek. "Potatoes?" Walter followed, bewildered, but shaken by a sudden hope. In the yard was a farmer's wagon full of potatoes. The Superintendent had retused to buy them, the price being too high. The man was in the kitchen, but in a few moments would return to drive aw wun ineit -ueuce-aco wno nau an tno qmcKness cunm"? of hi? d9ase, had heard the squabbling and had made his plan. i"4 u.Ttw. 8l.. K""1?: "ow,n.,! 118 "owni- SfUa tne oiu mRn huskily. Fortunately, there were no keepers in sight. Both Walter and the old man eagerly pushed aside with their hands a sulficient number of potatoes, so that a noie was maue large enougn in wnicn they could both lie down. Then they hastily covered themselves as much as possible with the potatoes. They were so much concoaled that unless careful scrutiny was given they ) would not be noticed. It wa3 twilight. and the gathering darkness favored them. The farmer oame at last. "Gee up ! " ', lasmng his horses. ' Just then a keeper came along. "Go- , in' into town to sell 'em?" said he. , " Guess not. No time for trade now. j I'll take 'em to Hestonville to my broth-1 or." ! The wagon jolted on and stopped. ' --' uuuaiijt una Kmo. T I audi ; cionched the old man's arm like a vice. 1 They were unlocking the gate. Walter terrible was his excitement. 1 One moment's breathless pause, then 1 the wagon raoved and the RRte dot 1 with a heavy clang behind them. i ! When the farmer had driven one or 1 two squares, Walter softly freed the old man from the petatoes, and they dropped noiselessly into the street. It was dark and raining hard. They ran behind a projecting building and hid. They saw the gate of the asylum open, and the keepers, with lanterns running out in pursuit of tbe wagon. Their night was known. As soon as the men had passed, Walter ran with his companion into the street. Late that night, Mr. McCann was roused by a violent knocking at the door. He put his head out into the storm, and the next instant rushed 'like a madman down the stairs, shouting "Wife! Jeeey! It is he! it is ho!" He dragged Walter in, and they hugged the boy, and laughed and cried over him all at once. But in tbe midst of his joy Walter found time to pull the old man forward, crying, " lie saved me!" "And potatoes," said Deuce-ace, bowing low, and beaming on the company. Ills friends afterwards took charge of tho old gentleman, but kept him at home. Col. Thorpe was forced to restore the property he had so wickedly obtained the control of, and Dunbar afterwards became a partner of Mr. McCann's, marrying little Jeeey when he became of age. Tone's Companion. The authorities of Milan have expelled several German Internationalists who had come there, and were supposed to be about to make that oltja center of operations. The successive attempts to assassinate the Emperor of Germany, the King of Spain, and tho King of Italy have, with or without evidence, been traced to tho infiuenoe of Socialism. This fact, no doubt, incline the people of Europe to acquiesce in tbe severe measures now applied to all suspected persons. i Tun. Santa Barbara (Gal.) Advertiser says that among the onriositios of tho Pacific is an oil well at son in SO fathom water on tho eoaet, off Santa Barbara, which sonde forth a constant stream of oil, running to waste. Reflecting the light of the sun in all colors of tho rainbow, it produces a singular and beautiful offset.

reUJt WATS IN A SXtWMAVK.

Tra4 e Mm New Yerk CeMrd Near ft rem the Ke w York WerW .1 Svkaci'sk, N. Y., January 7. The great suow-8orm whtoh has completely embargoed the Central Railroad since Thursday of last week was the most terrino ana long-oonunuea znown in tbe history oi the road. The first passenger train which has reached Syracuse from Buffalo since Thursday arrived tonight, and will ranch New York about noon Wednesday, bringing an unprecedented accumulation of Western mails. The amount of snow which fell was not only unprecedented, but the wind for days blew a perfect hurricane, making all attempt to open the road futile. The entire length of road mns through a wall of snow piled up from ten to twenty-five feet high. Hitherto the road has always fought snow-storms and pushed ahead at all hazards, but the elements proved too powerful during tbe past week, and tbe authorities were compelled to retire from the contest and await the cessation of the storm. The last train to pass over the road from Buffalo till this evening, was the St. Louis expreoe, which left Rochester at 4:30 p. m. Thursday. When it left Rochester it consisted of a snow-plow, eight locomotives, ten passenger coaches and several baggage ana express cars. It proceeded slowly east in tho face of the tempest of wind and snow, until Sand Cut, two miles southwest of Fairport, was reached. Here the snowplow struck a snow-bank so solid that the plow and all the eight engines were thrown from the track. Five engines plunged down the bank and were com pletely wrecked. In tbe cars were 600 passengers. That great loss of life did not accompany the accident was simpiy miraculous. Engine No. 478, the first to go down the bank, had on board Clark Brundagc, and Mr. Clough, the Itoadmaster. besidee the fireman. The engineer was killed, and Mr. Clough had his leg broken in two places. Con ductor John Holme was also seriously injured. The six engines were scatter ed about the tracks in every possible condition, Dr. J. B. Hamilton.SurgeonGeneral, U. S., was fortunately on hand, and he did good work dressing the wounds of the injured. The storm raged all night fiercer than ever, and the passengers in the wrecked train, giving up all hopes of relief, passed the mgni wunout steep, aupennienuenir Burrows started from Rochester for the wreck Friday, with six engines, but all Sot off the track a few miles oast of ochestcr. The storm continued Friday, rendering all attempts to rescue the imprisoned passengers futile. In the meantime the farmers living in the vieinity forced their way to it Friday morning and supplied the passengers with coffee and baked beans. The conductor made bis way to Fairport and succeeded in returning with a scant supply of provisions, which lasted until Friday night. On Saturday the conductor again went to Fairportand returned with a sleigh-load of provisions. The 600 passengers took things good-naturedly, and expressed the highest gratitude to the farmers who came to their relief even with a scanty supply of provisions. On board the train were H. M. Twombly, son-in-law of W. II. Vanderbilt, and'his wife, and -T. H. Ilutter, General Freight Agent of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad. They had been in Rochester to attend the funeral of George Whitney, a Director of the Central Road, and were on their way home. A number of friends in Rochester on Saturday determined to rescue them at all hazards, and started in a four-horse sleigh, but the roads were drifted so badly that they wore compelled to strike out across lots, the farmers assisting them to cut away tho drifts. After herculean efforts the party succeeded in reaching tho train. They found the passengers in pretty good shape, as help had already reached them from Fairport. The dead body of Engineer Brundage was in the caboose, the lower part of his body being crushed to a jelly. His fireman lay alongside of him, having suffered tno amputation of one leg, besides having his arm broken. In one of the sleeping-cars were lying Mr. .Clough, both of whose legs were broken, Mr. Holmes, who was badly hart about the head, and Engineer McCarthy, whose shoulder was put out of joint. All tho women were mado as comfortable as possible under the, circumstances. Having shaken hands all round, tho relief party mado preparations to return. Mrs. Twombly, wrapped in robes and straw, was placed ia the bottom of one of the sleighs with her husband and Mr. Ilutter. Tho return journey was made in safety, tho Osbora House being reached in time for dinner. Although tbe riding was somewhat rough, Mrs. Twombly said she enjoyed the drive immensely, it being tho most adventurous sleigh-ride she bad ever taken. The embargoed passengers staid in the cars till Sunday, when relief came, and tbe rescued were brought to Rochester. Meantime a similar state of affairs existed on the Auburn Road. At Pittsford, 10 miles from Rochester, tho Baltimore Expreoe, which left Rochester Thursday afternoon, became hopelessly stalled and snowed under. On board the train were Miss Millie Smith, daughter of Judge J. 0. Smith, of Canandaigua, and several lady friends. Mr. A. C. Smith, a brother of MisslSmith, started Friday with some friends to the rescue. After fighting the snow eight hours they recbed Pitteford. Leaving the sleigh thorn and getting the services of two guides, tho gentlemen strapped a pack of provisions on their backs and started to reach tho train, a distance of three miles. Their journey's end was reached at 9 o'clock in the, evening.

They found that tho night previous th passenger had passed a miser able time. Most of tho ladies had come in to Rochester in tbe morning to do some shopping, and, the day being pleasant, had not brought extra wraps with them. Tho force of tho wind was so groat that the snow was beaten iato tho oar to such an extent as to make puddles on tho floor. Ii was impossible to keep warm three feet away from the stove. Those ia the sleeping-oar fared a good deal better. Friday was spent in tho most lively manner possible, and Friday night was again passed in tho oars. Saturday morning tbe snow-bound passengers were delighted to see a six-horse sleigh and a gang of men approaching. They proved to be James Lord, J. M. Wiltzie and a number of other residents from Pittsford. Miss Atkinson, Miss Smith and other ladies were placed in the sleigh, besides a number of others, and driven to Mr. Wiltxio's house, wheje they were entertained with the moat royal hospitality.

A Medal Xew-Kajfland Farm. Mr.Burnett, the owner of the 300 acros in Southboro, Mass., known as Doorfoot Farm, makes a specialty of breeding, raising, and fattening hogs, and converting them into various articles of food, and of the products of the dairv. The conversion of the carcasses into hams and bacon, and the manufacture of sausages and lard is carried on in tho most systematic manner and on an ex tensive scale, extra pains being taken to produce for the private consumption nf customers ia Boston, New York, and Philadelphia the choicest and most palatable articles. Mr. Burnett raises about 3&0 hogs annually, and purchases from the farmers of Vermont 1,500 fat Berkshires, which make the best pork. After being dressed, tbe hogs are kept in a refrigerator for forty-eight hours, whon they are cut up, the hams and bacon cured in the most approved manuer, the laru tnea out and canned free frjm adulteration, and the pork backed in veg8 of fifteen and twenty-five pounds weight; the sausage-moat chopped by machinery and seasoned with the best quality of sage and pepper that can be obtained, and thon made into sausages. Mr. Burnett's bacon has taken the place of imported English bacon in the Boston market, and become so popular in Philadelphia that one dealer has offered to take the entire product of Deerfoot Farm, which amounts to 800 sidos a day, while 3,000 hams are cured annually. The product of sausages averages about 1,000 pounds a day. Another specialty of Mr. Burnett's is the canning of pigs' feet, which are sold largely in the season to yachting parties. The piggery at Deerfoot Farm is an extensive affair, located at some distance from the main buildings, aud consists of a building 80x10 feet, with a wing 60x20 feet, containing pens, in which were seen about 250 swine of sil ages, from the sucking pig to the hog ready for the scalding vat. The animals are fed twice a day on a cooked mixture of two-thirds corn meal and one-third ground oats, which Mr. Burnett had demonstrated to be the most , profitable food for fattening hogs. In the dairy the Devonshire process of producing clotted cream is used. New milk, scalded, is placed in long, large pans, which are placed under a refrigerator, where it is cooled rapidly, the temperature being reduced in" three hours from 10 to 32 degrees, and cream raised to the thickness of three-fourths of an inch, which ordinarily required 48 hours. This cream will keep sweet several days, and is sold for GO cents a quart to Boston families. Mr. Burnett also manufactures from 250 to 300 pounds of butter a week from the milk of 50 cows, of which 25 arc thoroughbred Jerseys. The butter soils readily at 75 cents a pound. Boston Transcript. The MUster Wasn't Wasted. An old sea captain, well known in the days of Havre packets, who "sailed the seas over" for fifty years and more, used to tell that in the early part of his first voyage as captain, when he had but just turned 21, his cabin-boy complained of a lame back. There was a medicine chest aboard, whose contents it was tbe captain's duty to dispense according to the beet of his knowledge and ability. In a shallow drawer at the bottom of the chest were three or four Spanish-fly plasters ready spread on kid, and one of these the captain decided to apply to the boy's back. It was done and the little fellow sent to bod. In the morning ho was on hand bright and early, but the captain's usual cup of coffee was missing. " Cook isn't up, sir," was the boy's explanation. " Why not?" asked the captain. " Says he can't get up, sir." "Why not?" "Says his back hurts him, sir." " Back? What's the matter with his back?" "The plaster, sir." " What do you mean?" exclaimed the captain: "1 didn't put the plaster on his back." " No, sir, but I did," whimpered tho boy. "You did, you J'oung rascal," howled tho captain, umpingfrom his berth, " what on earth did you do that for?" " Well, sir," replied tho boy, getting well out of range of any stray bootjack or other missile that might chance to 1e within the captain's reach, " when I woke up in the night it hurt mo so that I had to take it off. Tho cock was in the next bunk asleep and I just clapped it on his back. I didn't want to waste tbe plaster, sir." And ho didn't. It worked to perfection, keeping tbe poor cook in bed with a sore back for over a week; and in the next bunk, keeping him company, was the boy, also with n sore back, but it wasn't the plaster that made it so. A ropo's end was a favorite prescription in those days. JkHon Transcript,