Pike County Democrat, Volume 25, Number 19, Petersburg, Pike County, 21 September 1894 — Page 3

She gibe Cmmitj geraorrat M McC. 8TOOF8, Editor and ProprietorPETERSBURG. - - INDIANA. A FEEBLE ATONEMENT. But It Was All Barry Villiers Had to Offer. ’“’E’s tipsy! E’s ’aving a rest! What is it? Only a sandwich-man!’* One of the miserable gutter file had slipped and fallen on the Strand pavement. With the imperial air of the neophyte .medicine-man, Talbot Villiers parted the crowd. A Samaritan stood by with ^ little brandy in a glass. Talbot put to the human advertisement’s lips. ^Fhe man opened his eyes with a look -of gratitude. The look touched the young medical student. He held up his linger for a cab, then he assisted the fallen man into it and took a seat •opposite. “Where to?” asked Talbot. “Where •do you live? I am going home with you.” “Tallot street, Westminster, No. 5,” murmured the other feebly. “My name is Stern, John Stern.” Talbot gave the direction to the -cabman; then he examined his companion more closely. He was an elderly man of refined features. His clothes, though shabby, were remarkably clean; his linen was clean, and he was clean shaven. In fact, such a surplus of cleanliness in one of his late occupation was rather suspicious. Stern bore the young man’s scrutiny with visible uneasiness. He leaned suddenly over to Villiers. “Say,” he said, “if you are going home with me, will you keep my carrying of the boards a secret? I don’t want it to come to the' ears of m.y daughter. I am pretty nearly useless for work, but I wish to help her all I can. and that is why I come into the city to carry those boards. She thinks I work at an office.” “1 quite understand,” said Talbot, pityingljr. “Your secret is safe with me.” The words of the man had aroused every generous instinct of his nature. “What made you faint?” “Hunger,” replied Stern, laconically.

Talbot made a hurried motion to „ stop the cab. Stem laid his hand on his arm and restrained him. “No. sir,” he said. “I am indebted to you •already. You cannot help me further; I cannot take anything from you, even food. But I thank you, all the same.” Stern’s tone was decisive, and Talbot regarded him in amazement. The first answer had showed him what little way he bad made in medical diagnosis; the second, how little he knew -of human nature? The pride that prevented a liungrj' man accepting food was to Talbot preposterous. This feeling gave way to one of involuntary respect. At last the cab stopped. Cabs seemed a novelty in Tallot street, for a face appeared at nearly every window. A girl of about twenty was looking from No. 5. As the cab drew up, she looked very pale, and rushed to the door. “My daughter, Kate.” said Stern. “Remember your promise, sir.” “All right,” replied Talbot; then, as the girl came to the cab door he raised bis hat. “Don’t be alarmed; your father has happened with a slight accident. He slipped on the curb. He’s all right; but I thought I had better •drive home with him from the—the office.” At the sight of her father walking from the cab, the color rushed back to her cheeks in such vivid anti delicate tints, and showed so clearly the beaujg ty of her complexion, that Talbot stood gazing at her in silent admiration. His eyes lingered on her in a most embarrassing silence. They took in the lines of the slight, graceful figure, the nut-brown hair, and the honest, steadfast eyes. “I’ll call to-morrow,” he said, with a start, “and hear how he is—that is, if you don't mind.” It was evident that Kate regarded * him as a junior member of some unknown and ^eminently Christian firm. “You are very kind.” she said—“verj’ kind, indeed.” “Don’t mention it,” stammered Talbot—“Good morning—I mean good afternoon—Miss Stern.” . He reentered the cab, and, telling the cabman to drive anywhere, escaped from Tallot street in some confusion. But he was true to his promise. He -called the next day, and the day after, and many more times. The state of Stern’s health seemed to become a very serious matter. At last this pleasant fiction exploded. He came one afternoon when her eyes were weary with typewriting, and the sight maddened him. He clasped her in his -arms. “Kate, my own dear Kate,” he -cried, “I love you, and I want you to v be my wife. Will you, Kate?” Kate looked into his eyes. He * needed no other answer; and they passed the afternoon building up a -quiet little Bloomsbury practice. Stern was to be made a dispenser. Over the teacups, Kate told her father of Talbot’s proposal. He kissed her, and sighed. It was not in him to spoil a love-dream; but he scented danger. Talbot Villiers was a gentleman in every sense of the word; but Talbot Villiers had undoubtedly a father. Who was he? Villiers, senior, would without doubt have his say, unless he was a very mild father, indeed. Early the next day, a day when Stern had no “copying” to do in the city, a letter arrived from Talbot inclosing two ‘tickets for the theater. The letter ran:. “I want you and your father both to see this piece. It was produced last night with the .greatest success. After you have both seen it. I’ll tell you why I am so anxious you should go. I have in•closed some press cuttings which will give you an idea of the plot and the way it is staged. I’m sorry I can’t come; but I have a little business to transact with dad.**

it w nh me btbi umt) uc uou mentloned that ominous person. “Dad” suddenly loomed np very5 large in Kate’s thoughts. Villiers, senior, unaccountably depressed her. She tried to throw this depression off by telling her father about the theater. The play wa s called “A Woman’s Love.” Stern had carried the boards that advertised its “first night.” To Kate’s great astonishment, her father refused to go. She pressed him why. “I can’t go,” said Stern gravely. “Don’t look so grieved, Kate. Let me tell yon why; then perhaps you will understand me. A long time ago I wrote a play”— “You wrote a play!” interrupted Kate breathlessly. “I knew, you dear, old father, you were clever. Talbot said you were clever. He said you had a clever face.” * Stern smiled sadly at this innocent tribute. “Writing a play, Kate, and getting It acted are two very different things. I wrote this play in want, in misery, and with an ailing wife by my side. 1 wrote it in the odd moments snatched from my work. I built high hopes upon it, my dear; I put my whole heart into it, and I fondly dreampt it would lift from me a burden of debt and give me a name. I signed it with a nom de guerre* and sent it to a dramatist called Fielding Clark. I called upon him afterwards and asked his opinion of the play. He told me he had lost it. Then, Kete, I lost heart. Poverty drove me from pillar to post, and of the many things I grew to hate, the theater was one.” Kate threw her arms round him and kissed him. “And to think but for that accident,” she cried, “you might have been a great man! Never mind!” “No,” said Stern, wearily passing his hand over his forehead, “never 5mind. But what have you got in your hand?” “They are the press noticei of the new play. They came with the tickets.” “Well, my dear, I'm just going to have a pipe at the back of the house; I’ll look over them. Perhaps I’ll go, after all. You are entering soon on a new life, and it’s about time I should throw aside my prejudices.” He fondly kissed her, and took down his pipev When her father was gone, Kate drew in thought to the window. To think how narrowly she had escaped being a dramatist’s daughter! While her mind was thus exalted, she observed a gentleman middle age attentively scanning the houses. He was not a prepossessing gentleman, lie was dark, slimly built, and of a sarcastic aspect. At last he fixed his gaze on to No. 5 and opened the gate. With a vague misgiving, Kate ran to the door.

“Pardon me, said the visitor, blandly, “but is this Mr. Stern's?” “Yes,” answered Kate, feeling cold, “this is Mr. Stern’s.” “And if I judge aright,” said the stranger still more blandly, “you are Miss Kate Stern. May I have the honor of a few moments’ conversation with you? My name is Barry Villiers.’’ Talbot’s father! The ominous “dad” in the background! With a very pale face, Kate ushered him into the house. He politely waited for her to seat herself, then sat down. “I fear,” he began, “I have called on a rather unpleasant errand. My visit concerns a flirtation between you and my son.” Kate caught her breath. “There has been no flirtation, Mr. Villiers. Y’our son has told me that he loved me, and I am not ashamed of returning his love.” Villiers bowed. “A boy and girl attachment,” he said, airily. “1 heard of it from my son’s lips to-day. Of course it cannot proceed. It is folly; but then, when were lovers wise? I can assure you, Miss Stern, though fully appreciating your affection for m3’ son, that j?ou must give up all thoughts of this marriage.” He smiled. “Give up all thoughts of it!” cried Kate, with pale lips. “Is that your son’s message?” “No—of course not. I am here to reason with yob. You are a mere child; I am a man of the world. We look at things from different standpoints. But a marriage is impossible. Your position—” “You mean,” interrupted Kate, “that 3’ou are rich and I am poor.” “Exactlj’ In all other respects you al*e no doubt my son’s equal; but this unfortunate circumstance .is sufficient to restrain me from givihg my consent I cannot see my son’s prospects blighted. I am willing to pay any price—” Kate’s eyes blazed. The suave, insinuating manner of Talbot’s “dad” roused her. His way of putting a price on the affections brought back her color. “My price,” she said, scornfully, “for what? The love I bear him?” Villiers coolly changed his tactics. “Pardon me; I w$s wrong. I ought not to have made such a suggestion. But you say you love my son. Well, his career is in your hands. Will you blight it? It rests with you.” “You are putting the whole responsibility of his future on my shoulders,” she answered, bitterly. “Is that the act of a gentleman? Is it the act Of a father who loves his son?” Villiers regarded her more attentively. His suavity diminished. “You are more clever,” he said, coldly, “than I thought. 1 will say no more. If you take my friendly visit in this spirit, I can do nothing. But you may take it as my last word that if my son marries you, he does so a beggar. I cast him off; I utterly disown him.” “And vet,” cried Kate, “you say you love him!” <• Villiers took up his hat; he fixed her with a keen, cold glance. “I do. And here is my cheque-book to prove it. I will pay any sum to release him from a degrading marriage.” “Degrading!” The girl staggered. “I will prove to you,” she said in a quivering tone, “which love is the strongest. I will give him up; I will tell him so from my own lips. And if ever you tell your son of this interview, you may say that I refused to

marry nun Because i loveu aim. jl is my answer.” She sank into th« chair from which she had risen, and covered her face with her hands. , Barry Villier's face lightened. “My dear young lady, I have wronged you. Pray, make some allowance for a father’s affection. Let me reward you for this act of self-sacrifice.” He pulled out his cheque book and stood beside her, apparently considering the sum, when the door that led to the baok opened and Stern walked in. He looked first at his daughter, then at Villiers. As their eyes met, something like an electric spark seemed to past from one to the other. “Fielding Clark!” cried Stern. Kate gave a start. Barry Villier* was Fielding Clark, the dramatist. Talbot's father was the author of the! play for which they had received thej tickets. She turned an amazed look upon her father^ His face frightened her. It was exultant and denunciatory. For a moment) Stern’s face seemed to have the same effect upon Barry Villiers. He seemed disconcerted^ ill at ease. In Sterns hand were the press notices crumpled in a ball. Villiers was the first to gain his composure. “Sinclair!” he cried, “John Sinclair. This is a surprise.” Stern turned to his daughter. “Leave us a moment, Kate,” he said. “I have a few words to say to this—this gentleman.” Kate rose, and with a wondering look at her father, quitted the room. When she was gone, he fixed a scorching look upon Barry Villiers. That gentleman promptly held out his hand. Stern contemptuously regarded it. “I don’t know why you are in my house,” he said slowly. “But no doubt you can explain it. I should say you are a man who could explain anything. Perhaps you can explain this.” He held up the crumpled ball of paper. “These are press notices of a play produced last night. That play was mine. You stole it. Y*ou are a liar and a villian!” • Villieifs put down his hat. “Sinclair,” he said, and his tones were almost plaintive, “you will regret these words. Yet they were spoken in the heat of the moment, and I forgive you.”

“No doubt,” pursued Villiers, “you think the worst of me. It is not unnatural. But there are extenuating circumstances. I own the play was was yours. I own I used it. But at the time you came to me it was really lost. I had mislaid it. J had no knoweledge of your real name—I take it that the agreeable young lady who had just left us is your daughter—I had no means of reaching you. I sought for you. I advertised for you, under the name of Sinclair; but in the tide of London life you were swept away. Then Sinclair—I mean Stern— I was tempted. There came to me the great temptation of my life. I was worked out; a manager stood at my elbow, and-1 took your play. It was culpable—very culpable—but the question is what are you going to do in it?” He paused, and looked, not altogether without anxiety, at the man he had wronged. Stern stood before him dejected. To a third party he might easily have been mistaken for the one who was most to blame. What was he going to do in it? The hot fire of vengeance had died from him. He stood now only with the cold ashes of lost hopes. “Of course,” said Villiers, “you could harm me, perhaps prosecute me; but it would be unchristian.” Stern thought of the sandwich boards and glared at him. “Give me the opportunity,” he went on hastily “of making atonement. We are both middleaged men. Why live in the past? Why should we cloud the happiness of others?” “The happiness of others? What do you mean?” “I’ll explain,” said Villiers. “You know me as Clark. Villiers is my name, and Talbot- Villiers is my son. You may not have noticed the likeness. He takes after his mother.” “Thank God!” cried Stern, fervently; but the relationship troubled him. “He loves your daughter. The match seemed to me an undesirable one, and I came here to-day to break it off. Now it is the dearest wish of my heart. Why should we blight their lives?” Stern gazed at him amazed. Here was a fre’sh sophistry. Villiers had robbed him and now held out a net for him. Stern’s brain grew hot. “I say ‘we;’ but of course I mean you. 1 have no power to do anything. You have the power. If you are so unchristian as to expose me, you do so at the price of their happiness, at the price of youth and innocence. You shall have all the money 1 took for the play. I may be a villain,” said Villiers with a virtuous burst, “but I have a conscience. This is,a feeble atonement. Stern; call it, if you like, the beginning of one; but do you accept it?” Stern could make no reply. The desire for vengeance had fled; but in its place was a dull longing for justice. Then he thought of Talbot, of the afternoon in the Strand. “Go now,” he cried hoarsely. “I want to think thjs over. I’ll send you my answer.” He walked, as if he was carrying the sandwich boards, into the shadow of the room and sat down on a chair. Barry Villiers stood in the sunlight. He gazed anxiously at Stern, and was about to open his mouth, when his eyes fell upon the door of the inner room. It had opened, and Kate Stern stood on the threshold. With a smile of relief, the roan of the world bowed and went out the front door. Kate approached her father and laid her hand on his shoulder. Stern looked up, and saw traces of recent tears. He kissed her; and then love conquered both the desire to reinstate himself, and be quits with the man who had robbed him. “My dear,” he said, “ypu shall marry Talbot.”—Chambers’ Journal. —A French hostess is noted for her careful personal attention to all the details of her dinner, both before and during the event.—Housekeepen

WORDS TO REMEMBER. Thr Argument* of Two Champions of Genuine Tariff Reform. At the crisis of the closing1 debate on the new tariff bill Speaker Crisp and Chairman Wilson gave their reasons for supporting it Every democrat should learn by heart the following extracts from the two speeches. They answer every argument, every fallacy, every falsehood, every taunt and jeer of the republican shriekers and howlers for the protected trusts. » The statements of these two leaders constitute the vindication of those who acted with them in voting for the senate bill. Chairman Wilson said: “Whatever the measure of shortcoming of this bill in its present form— whatever be its demerits in mere schedules—this I do know, that it is better than the McKinley bill. This I do know, that in a part of it it does afford some relief to the taxpayers of this country and does clip the wings of the gigantic monopolies that are now oppressing them and blocking legislation. “Take even those portions of the bill over which this contest between the two houses has been waged; take iron ore and coal, upon which we have confronted, and to a certain extent unsuccessfully confronted, the great railroad syndicates of the conutry; yet we have reduced them4both nearly 50 per cent, below the McKinley bill. Take the sugar schedule, over which the greatest of all the contests between the two houses has been waged. Vicious as it may be, burdensome to the people as it may be, favorable to the trust as it may be, it is less vicious, less favorable to the trust, less burdensome to the people than is the McKinley law, under which this trust has growD so great as to overshadow with its nower the American people.” Enforcing and indorsing the argument of Chairman Wilson, Speaker Crisp said:

country which is dominating' legislation the republican party created it. And though this bill does not destroy that trust, as we wish it did. it takes away more than one-half of the protection accorded to that trust. If there is a coal combine the legislation of the republican party built it up, and though we do not make coal free in this bill we reduce the duty from 75 cents to 40 cents. If there is a steel and iron combine the same remark applies. Going through these schedules, whilst they are not all we wish, they are (and we want the country to understand it) the best we can now get. The moment we get this we intend to move forward; we do not intend there shall be any backward step in tariff reform.” This is the democratic answer to every republican misstatement of the fact, to republican false arguments, to the flings and sneers which they use in place of argument. The bill is a measure of reform. It takes something from the trusts. It has shorn them ef a part of their power. The people are taxed less for their enrichment. Much more than this,, doubtless, is true. Protection has won its last triumph over the people. Tariff rates never will be advanced again in this country for. the benefit of monopoiies and trusts. Every future change will be in the direction of lower revenue schedules. From the hour that this tariff bill becomes a law the drift of federal legislation will be away from protection. Another protective tariff law never wfll be enacted by the United States congress. - So, in a measure, in the effect on tariff legislation for the future the pledges of the democratic platform of 1895 are redeemed, in their spirit and intent. Notwithstanding a partial apparent defeat, a vital democratic principal is crowned with triumph.—Chicago Herald. “INDECENT FAVORITISM.’* An Exposure of a Piece of Nauseating; Republican Cant. We find in the editorial columns of republican journals some very queer criticisms of the new tariff. For’ example, the New York Tribune, which is never weary of calling the McKinley act, with all its purchased taxes, “the wisest and bravest tariff laws yet framed,” now talks about “cases of indecent favoritism” in the new tariff, and in the same sentence specifies “the defense of steel beam and some other monopolies by duties meant to be prohibitory.” But if the duty on steel beams in the new tariff (very much lower than the duty in the old one) was “meant to be prohibitory” and is an example of “indecent favoritism,” and is therefore to be denounced, how will the Tribune characterize the steel beam duty*in the McKinley tariff? Wp may ask the same question about the duties on steel rails. Here is a comparison of the duties per ton: ' M.cKinley. New Tariff. Steel beams...120.16 - $13.44 Steel rails... 13.44 7.84 If a duty of $13.44 per ton on beams is “indecent” and “meant to be prohibitory,” was not the McKinley duty of $20.16 more “indecent” and prohibitory in a greater degree? Was not a duty of $13.44 on rails much more “indecent” than one of $7.84 can be? And does not the Tribune know that in the senate these duties of $13,44 on beams and $7.84 on rails were substituted for the very much lower rates of the house bill (30 per cent, and 20 per cent, respectively) at the suggestion or command of Mr. Quay, of Pennsylvania, the republican senator by whose vote alone the sugar trust saved its differential protective duty of *4 of a cent a pound, a duty worth at least $10,000,000 in three years to that organization? If this tariff is, as the Tribune says in connection with its remarks about the steel beam duty, a “bill of sale to monopolists,” was not the MeKinley tariff a “bill of sale” in which the prices realized were larger because the favors granted were more valuable? The duty of $13.44 on beams in the new tariff does not “defend a monopoly,” because the combination of the manufacturers of steel beams no longer We think the duty should have

been made lower, bmt the combination was dissolved two years ago. The Tribune knows this. It has repeatedly published the fact in its news columns and referred to it in its editorial articles. The combination, was dissolved by the action of Mr. Carnegie. Some of our republican contemporaries have never forgiven him for breaking this ring and thus causing : a reduction of prices to a competitive basis which made it impossible for them honestly to defend the McKinley tariff's towering duties on the product in question. The republican tariff* in force from 1883 to October 6, 1890, “indecently” gave this combination, the existence of which was freely admitted in the last three or four years of that tariff by the members of it, a protective duty of $23 per ton, and within the last twelve months American beams have been sold at $25. Under* the shelter of this duty of $28 the ring maintained for i three or four years, without variation, ! the price of $73.92 per ton, or 3 3-10 cents a pound. It could take advantage not only of the duty of $29, buf also d'f natural protection equivalent to not less than 25 per cejht. For about two years after the pasjhge of the McKinley tariff the same combination, with the assistance of the “indecent” McKinley duty of $20.16, exacted a uniform ring price of $69.44 per ton, or 3 1-10 cents a pound. This was freely admitted, and was shown by the reports of every trade journal of the iron and steel industry. But after the withdrawal of Mr. Carnegie and the resumption of ordinary competitive conditions^ in the steel beam business, the prictf feH in a short time more than 40 per cent. Thereafter it declined more slowly, until beams were sold at 1; 1-10 cents a pound, ($24.64 per ton), or just onethird of the old ring price exacted by Chairman Jones, of the Republican national committee, and his associates in ! the combination. The price to-day at Pittsburgh is 1 3-10 cents a pound, or $29.12 per ton. There is no combination. Our neighbor should avoid any reference to the duties on steel beams. Even in the case of the sugar trust, the Tribune has admitted, and the party’s tariff leader and highest authority in congress freely sayS, that the protective bonus given to the trust in the new tariff is not quite three?quafters of the protective bonn>givt?n to it by the McKinley tariff, cents, as against 60 cents per hgh&fccd. Earnest and consistent adv<5fcafes%f tariff reform have just ground-lfor complaint about many of the provisions of the new tariff, but the cant of the thiek-and-thin supporters of McKinleyism and the McKinley tariff, with all its huge jobs, about “indecent favoritism” and “prohibitory duties’’ in the bill recently passed is more dishonest, insincere and nauseating th^n anything of the sort that can be found in the history of American politics.—N. Y. Times.

What We Have Saved. The failure of the house democracy to secure the enactment as a law of the Wilson bill as originally drawn, is, of course, a great disappointment to democrats the country over and a misfortune to the party and the people at large. The bill as passed Is infinitely preferable to the McKinley law, and its adoption demonstrates the disposition of most of the democratic representatives and senators to make good the promises included in the party’s platform adopted at the Chicago convention. The tariff on woolens is reduced about one-half, wool itself is made free, as is also lumhdt" and salt; the cotton and metal schedules are greatly reduced, and the duties on coal and iron are virtually cut in two. Further* j more, the income feature of the bill takes several million dollars from the tax on articles consumed; by the masses and places it on the incomes of-the rich. These features of the bill.' all ^contain important benefits for the people who pay the taxes, and they should not be depreciated or belittled in any way. . * * . * For free sugar, free iron, free coal and absolute free tirade the country must look to the future. If the democrats have a majority in-congress next year some. important* advances in the way of tariff reform will be made. In | the meantime the Wilson bill, as , passed, is the best law, that could be I enacted under the circumstances, and for so much of good it contains—and the amount is not small—the people of this country, so long -harassed and racked by war taxation, will be thankful.—Chicago Times. j -1G. O. P. Talk vs. G. O. P. Votes. The Press said a few days ago that “the republicans in the senate can effectually assail this disgraceful alliance between the administration and the sugar monopolists by voting to put sugar on the free list and to restore the bounty to domestic producers.” No doubt they could, but they wouldn’t. They voted solidly for the Murphy resolution against any further “contested legislation.” They did not want to deprive themselves of a campaign issue or the sugar ring of its booty.—N. Y. World. __: Banking: on Poverty. Hon. Champ Clark, of- St. Louis, in an address before the Young Men’s Democratic society, of New York, among other things said: i “The republican party this day j bases all its hopes of 1894 and 1896 on the continued depression of business. In the whole history of politics it is the first time that any great party ever welcomed hunger, nakedness and enforced idleness as allies.” \ And that hunger, nakedness and enj forced idleness is the direct result of the vicious legislation of that same republican party,—Exchange. Traitors Will Re Remembered. The Rochester Union (Hem.) says: “The democratic party—the peopleobliged to surrender to the Gorman gang for the time being in order to gain relief for the country, will settle in detail with the beheficiaries of whatever of plunder has been smuggled through in the senate bill, not one of which can find legs to stand upon when taken singly as to its merits.’'

PROFESSIONAL CAROS. J. T. KIME, M. D, Physician and Surgeon, PETERSBURG, IXD. R^fflce in Bank building, first floar. WII •e lound at office day or night. ■ GEO. B. ASHBY, ATTORNEY AT LAW PETERSBURG, IND. Prompt Attention Given to all Bnsiness AS*Office over Barrett & Son Vstore. Francis B. Poskt. Dewitt Q. Chappell POSEY & CHAPPELL, Attorneys at Law, PETERSBUR«r IXD. Will practice in ail the courts. Special at* tention given to all business. A Notary Public constantly in the office. R^Offioe-* On first floor Bank Building. • E. A. Elt. S. G. Davenport ELY & DAVENPORT, r LAWYERS, Petersburg, Ixd. 0~0fflee over J. R. Adams A Son's drat store. Prompt attention given to all buai* ness. * ‘ E. P. Richardson - A. H. Taylor RICHARDSON & TAYLOR, Attorneys at Law, Petersburg, Ixd. Prompt attention given to all business. A Notary Public constantly in the office. Offica in Carpenter Building, Eighth and SCaifi. DENTISTRY. W. H. STONECIPHER,

Surgeon Dentist, PETERSBURG, JNDOffice in rooms6 and 7 in Carpenter Build Ing. Operations first-class. Ail work: War- * ranted. Anmsthetics used lor painless ex* traction of teeth. NELSON STONE, 0. V. $., PETERSBURG, IND. Owing to long practice and the possession of I ■ fine library and case of instruments, Mr. Stone is well prepared to treat all Diseases of Horses and Cattle SUCCESS FTT3-»X/5r • He also keeps on hand a stock of Condition Pow* ders and Liniment, which he sells at reasonable prices. Office Over J. B. Young & Co.’s Store.

Latest Styles -IN— L’Art 0© La Mod© I r COLOliEII PLATES. ! all thk latkst Paris as* SAW XOKK I'ASUIOSS.

fyOr<t*rlt «r jonrKewsdtmleromBd oi» e*nti tor l»te«tn»W ber to W. i. XOKSK, Publisher, 3 bM 19th St., Sew lark, STKAXS THIS PAPER en<T tfcae jouwntt. TRUSTEES’ NOTICES OF OFFICE OAT. NOTICE is hereby given that I will attend to the duties of tne office of trustee of Clay township at home on EVERY MONDAY. All persons who have business with the office will take notice that I will attend to business on no other day. M. M. QOWEN, Trustee. NOTICE is hereby given to all parties in. terested that 1 will attend at my office in Stendal, ' EVERY STAURDAY, To transact business connected with the office of trustee of Lockhart township. All persons having business with said office will please take notice. J. 8. BARRETT. Trustee, NOTICE is hereby given to all parties con* eerned that I will be at my residence. EVERY TUESDAY, To attend Jo business connected with the office of Trustee of Monroe township. GEORGE GRIM, Trustee. NOTICE is hereby given that I will be at my residence . EVERY THURSDAY To attend to business connected with the office of Trustee of Logan township. 4VPositively no business transacted except on office days. SILAS KIRK, Trustee. NOTICE is hereby given to all parties concerned that I will attend at my resident! EVERY MONDAY To transact business connected with the office of Trustee ofAladi son township. ga-Positively no business /transacted except office days. JAMES RUMBLE, Trustee, NOTICE is hereby given to all persons interested that I will attend in my office is Velpen, > EVERY FRIDAY, To transact business connected with the office of Trustee of Marion township. All persons having business with said office will please take notice. W. F. BROCK, Trustee. OT1CE is hereby givea to all persons concerned that I will attend at my office EVERY DAI To transact business .connected with tbF office of Trustee of Jefferson township. R W- HARRIS, Trustee.