Pike County Democrat, Volume 25, Number 29, Petersburg, Pike County, 30 November 1894 — Page 3

r l == ffe* dfotmtjj ^ JL MoO. BT00P8, Editor and Proprietor. PETERSBURG.. - - - INDIANA. ONE TEAR THE LESS. Jt J0» have caused one tear the leas Down sorrow s cheek to flow; It you have canned one smile the more „ - (hi any face to flow; Then, friend, yon bare not lived In vain. For whereso’er you stray ^ Through learning’s walks, or labor's paths. Or trouble's tangled way, "You still have this bright thought to oheer. This memory to bless, That you have caused one smile the more. And one sad tear the lean Tls sweet to have the things we prise. And sweet to be oontent "With whatsoever lot In life The Gracious Powers have sent; But sweeter far to feel and know That kindly word or deed Bay help, through seas of care and woe. Some soul in direst need. "When those brave men who stationed are On many a rock-bound shore But out, at peril of their lives, Where billows rage and roar— If they but save from death’s cold grasp One half-drowned, shipwrecked man They feel repaid for all their toil, And all the risk they ran. .And thus If we, by timely aid, Rendered with loving care. -Can save one sad and sinking heart From surges of despair, Kind Heaven will smile upon onr task And every effort bless. If we but cause one smile the more g And one sad tear-drop less. ( % -N. Y. Weekly. EUNICE EVAN’S VOICE. BY NELLIE E. C. SCOTT. Mrs. Ainslee confessed with sorrow to one bad habit—that of standing for three solid half-hours of every day at a front window nervously watching for the postman. “But I don’t know that my conscience ought to reproach me so severely for it, either,” she said to herself. *‘I have no pressing duties; my time isn’t worth much; and it’s such an innocent excitement—there he is now!” and she peered out anxiously through the lace curtain to 'see if the shaggy pony and mud-spattered gig should atop at her gate. No; Mrs. Evans, next door, was the favored one this time; but she was not at home, evidently, for the postman’s whistle pealed forth again and again. Mrs. Ainslee went to the bay window and- watched the postman’s efforts to find a place for the letter. First he tried to slip it in between the window sashes, but this failing he tried to slip it under the door of the entry, a little four-foot cubby built on to the house as-an afterthought, to take the place -of a hallway. This Idea, too, was for some reason abandoned, and the man followed the clam-shell bordered walk around to the back of the house, whence she heard the watchdog growling at him; and Mrs. Ainslee, instead of following his nlovements further, went back with an amused smile to her place beside the parlor window. “1 wonder if that ferocious dog allowed him to leave the letter," she mused. “Well, I guess he left it, somewhere; and as it’s from Eunice probably, I’ll trust the mother to find it" The Evanses were Door—one of the

lew poor families in the somewhat aristocratic neighborhood of Milton park, a suburb of an eastern city. Their house, with its half-acre or so of ground, represented their entire fortune, and the profits of the small orchard and poultry yard their income, aside from the things—and they were many—that Eunice’s hands found to do. Just now the girl was away in a neighboring town acting as companion to an invalid—a rich man’s daughter who had taken a fancy to Eunice when they were together at the high school. Mother and daughter were objects of much interest to Mrs. Ainslee, and ishe could see that the days dragged painfully to the older woman, now that Eunice was away. Many times |had the observant neighbor seen Mr* Evans pause at her work in the garden, |or come idly to the door with the broom for dish towel in her hand, and gaze for [minutes at the line of haze-covered mountains that separated her from her girl. Then in the evening at dusk she ,would bring out pail after pail of [water and patiently sprinkle Eunice’s [flowers by means of an old-fashioned [watering can. Not a weed dared to show its head among the pinks and pansies, or a y ellow leaf to remain on [the geraniums. ’’Have you heard from Eunice lately, Mrs. Evans?” inquired Mrs. JLinslee from her side of the division lence a few days after the latter episode. j “Oh yes! I heard to day; she's very good about writing to me.” j “Is she coming home soon? How ■does her patient get alpng?” I “No, she won’t be home for some [time unless for a Sunday, or—perhaps t'*—you've heard, I suppose, about the lusicale Mis’ Gilderaleeve’s goin’ to ive?” “Yes; it’s going to be a grand affair, ey say,” said Mias Ainslee. , “So they do. And I guess Mis’ jGildersleeve'll ask Eunice to go. P’raps you remember at Easter time, when my girl sung the solos in the j church, how pleased Mis’ Gildersleeve was with her voice, and she said then •he’d never be satisfied till her cousin, that’s a great perfesaor of musio in that big conservatory, had heard the child sing. She hasn’t said anything to me about it—yet; but Mis’ Storm, who’s a friend of Mis' Gildersleeve, was here the other day to buy some chickens, and she spoke of Eunice’s being there as if ’twas a settled thing that she was goin’ to sing.” Mrs. Ainslee said she thought it would be a very good thing for Eunice to have the benefit of a professional’s opinion. i “Yes; I wrote to her about it; and she’s delighted, of course, poor child. ■She says in this last letter that she’s ■bought a dress for the oocasion—a soft, , b

cream-colored goods—and is maltin' it up herself with the help of Mias Jard ice’s sempstress. They're wonderful kind to her. Mias Jardine’s music teacher comes right along, and when she ain't well enough to take her j lesson she makes Eunice go in her place. I hope nothing'll happen to keep her away; it'd be a terrible disap* pointment to her, she's set her heart on it so." When next the two neighbors met, the Important event of which all Mil* ton Park was talking, was only two days away. Mrs. Evans had been too bnsy harvesting her grapes and pears to spend time in visiting or even in chatting over the garden-fence. Always a tireless worker, she labored now so unceasingly that her ease-loving little neighbor grew nervous and fretful watching her; so one afternoon she crossed the lawn, and entered at the gate that divided the two yards and was not often opened. “1 couldn’t see you work yourself to death without making a protest. What’s the use of it? What will Eunice say?"’ Mrs. Ainslee began. “I’m just done now. And I’m so glad you come over. Mis’ Ainslee; 1 want to talk to you. Jest wait a minute till I make myself a mite presents bio; set here on the porch, won’t you, where it’s cool?" i When, ten minutes later, the two women had settled down to their knitting, the usual prelude to confidential talk, Mrs. Evans’ fingers did not move with their accustomed evenness and precision. In fact they trembled perceptibly, and allowed three stitches to drop in as many minutes. “Well!" she exclaimed, impatiently dropping the knitting in her lap, “there’s no use in my pretendin’ to work; T. can’t. I—it’s about Eunice I wanted to talk to you. Mis’ Ainslee,” she went on hurriedly. “I suppose, now, you’ve got your invitation from Mis’ Gilderaleeve before now?” “Yes; I've had it a week or more." “I want to know!” Mrs. Evans plaited her apron between her fingers and looked at her visitor with troubled eyes. “There ain’t none come for Eunice—I haven’t heard another word about it. Don’t you think it’s strange, if so be she wanted Eunice to dbme?" Mrs. Ainslee did not know what to say. It certainly was queer, if Mrs. Gildersleeve really wished the girl to come that she had sent her no invitation. *She remembered now what somebody had told her once, that the lady in question was whimsical— prone to take sudden fancies and to forget them as suddenly. But, on the other hand, Mrs. Ainslee saw that her neighbor’s eyes were fixed upon her, as if reading her thoughts. “While it does seem a little strange, it is probably only a mistake," she replied. “You see there were a great many notes to be sent out, and Eunice’s may have been overlooked." “I don’ know—I don’ know. Seems to me if she wanted the girl to come she might ’a’ let her know what was expected of her, and give her a mite of encouragement, knowin’ that she’s different from the rest of the company that’s likely to be there—that she’s poor, I mean—for Eunice is just as good and as ladylike as anybody." “She is, indeed,” cried Mrs. Ainstee^ warmly.

"But yesterday, resumes jurs. tvans, lowering her voiee, “I met Mis’ Gildersleeve in her carriage, and she looked at me so curious and cold-like. First she seemed as if she was goin’ to speak, but then she said something to the ooachman and only just bowed. Then 1 give up hope. 1 don’ know what to say to Eunice—she writes me every time to know if Mis’ Gildersleeve’s sent an invitation, and here 1 haven’t answered her letter for four days because I’d no good news to tell her. I’ve got so fidgety and anxious hopin’ against hope every day that some word’ll come that I’m all tuckered out It’ll be a dreadful blow to the child; for she’s set her heart on bein' a great singer. Oh, dear! I just can’t tell her,” she broke off with; “and I thought, Mis’ Ainslee—I thought perhaps you’d write to her and tell her** kind o’ gradual like. You can write a letter that won’t hurt the child like my blunt tellin' of it would, and”— She stopped sudden ly and listened. A quick, light step sounded on the garden path, and presently a bright young face, with anxious eyes, cons fronted the two women, who glanced at each other guiltily. “Mother!” There was a sharp ring whioh threatened tears in Eunice’s sweet voice. “Why, my dear girl—my dear girl! What’s the matter?” They clung to each other for a moment. when Eunice put her mother an arm’s length away, and looked at her searehingly. “Why haven’t you written to me in four days?” she asked, with pretty severity. Mrs. Evans' eyes fell beneath her daughter’s scrutiny. “I’ve been awful busy, Eunice. Mrs. Ainslee can tell you how busy I’ve been,” she said, humbly, picking a speck off her dress. “But you might have sent me a postal card. It isn’t so very long, I know —four days”—she said to Mrs. Ainslee, with an apologetio smile; “but she never lets two days pass, and I worried till 1 had to come home.” Mrs. Ainslee tried to smile brightly in reply; but the thought of what the next few minutes had in store for the girl made a fiat failure of the praiseworthy effort, seeing which Eunice became grave again. “Have you seen Mrs. Gildersleeve, mother?” she asked. “Yes; I’ve seen yer.” “What did Bhe say?” “My dear, she—she didn’t say anything. ” Eunice’s face turned white. “Didn’t say anything; not anything about—the day after to-morrow?” “Not a word,” answered Mrs. Evans, steadily, determined to get the thing over with. i “Then she doesn’t wish me to come!”

said Eunice, faintly, with a piteous If lance from her mother to her friend. “She may have forgotten,” said Mrs. Ainslee, soothingly. “Don’t take it to heart, my dear,” for great tears were gathering in the girl's eyes and drop* ping noiselessly to the floor. Seeing that it was impossible to hide her disappointment, Eunice lifted her head and said, simply: “1 had counted on it a good deal” The latter part of the conversation had been carried on in the sittingroom, the sunshine having found its way through the frost-bitten Madeira vines that curtained the porch. Mrs. Ainslee now rose to go, not without some resentment in her heart against the woman who could thus make a plaything of a girl’s ambition. Eunice came forward to open the door for her, and the lady, anxious to bestow a crumb of comfort, laid her hand gently upon the girl's shoulder. “Don’t be discouraged, Eunices” she said; “you are very young, my dear, and one’s last opportunity has never come at sixteen. Remember that” The words had a better effect than the speaker dared tohope for. Eunice’s face brightened perceptibly as she said, almost cheerfully: “Do you think so? Then I trill try to remember it although this seemed the chance of a lifetime.” They were standing in the little entry now, that being the nearest way out when, without any particular sequence, Mrs. Alnslee’s thoughts reverted to the postman and the letter she had seen him trying to find a place for more than a week before. Like lightning her thoughts pursued each other. Was that letter necessarily from Eunice? Might it not have been from—somebody else? Wasn’t it just possible it had not been found? “Eunice, bring Mrs. Ainslee out this, way,” called the mother from the kitchen; “the front walk is muddy from the rain.” But Mrs. Ainslee’s eyes were fixed upon the braided rug that must be pushed aside before the door could be opened. “No, I shall go out this way, now that I’m here,” she said. Eunice swept the rug aside with her foot, and a keen „sense of disappointment took possession of the departing guest; there was nothing but the bare oilcloth where the rug had been. What was that? Was it a line of white projecting beyond the edge, or a bit of sunshine stealing through the keyhole? She put down a trembling hand to make sure, and picked up a square white envelop, addressed to “Miss Eunice Evans.” She recognized the dainty, flowing handwriting at a glance, and handed the missive to the girl with a smile of great complacency. “I’m so glad I came out, this way, Eunice,” said she. Eunice read aloud the note, which was kind and informal, and her face was a pleasing study as she did so. The color came back into her cheeks and the smile into her eyes in a way that was good to see. “ ’Come over right away,’ it says; and that letter was written ’most ten days ago,” cried Mrs. Evans. “No wonder she acted oool to me. You go right over now, Eunice, and tell her just how it was.” Mrs. Gildersleeve, who had been al jgost as deeply piqued at what she considered Eunice’s indifference as Eunice had been hurt by the lady’s apparent neglect, received her very cordially, upon hearing how matters stood. “Well, all is not yet lost,” said she, gayly; “but you must telegraph to your patient, and then put in some solid hours’ work with me between now and Thursday night. I’m so glad you've been able to practioe.”

Mrs. OildersleeTe was herself a thorough musician, and in the two following days her searching criticism and helpful suggestions prepared Eunice to do her best. As the momentous hour approached Mrs. Gildersleeve’s anxiety about the result was almost as great as Eunice’s. “My only fear is of stage fright,” the lady confided to some of her guests when Eunice’s name was next on the programme. “I haven't a doubt regarding the girl’s ability; but she has never appeared in public before, and she is the very opposite of bold.” The silence was profound when a pretty, girlish figure, simply gowned in a creamy white serge, made her way to the center of the little stage. Her face was as white as her dress, when, bowing, she opened her lips to sing, closed them again for ten long, breathless seconds, while the color slowly returned to her cheeks; then, with a mighty effort, Eunice broke the spell that held her silent, and filled the house with a burst of bird-like music. Clear as a bell, the sweet young voice rose higher and higher, and Mrs. Gildersleeve knew, as did everybody else, that her protege was a success. Milton Park was more than delighted that the great man had found a prod igy (as he said he had) within its boundaries, and was for sending her to Europe to study forthwith. But the New England girl’s independent spirit would not consent to this. “I’ll not go to Europe till I can pay my way,” she declared; and Mrs. Gildersleeve, for one, approved of her decision. That good lady did not remain passive in the matter, however. Being well known in musical circles throughout the state, she lost no opportunity of introducing her favorite whenever an effective soloist was wanted; and so it came about that Eunice's remarkable talent was soon spoken of everywhere; connoisseurs exclaimed delightedly when they found her name upon their programmes, and, within a year from the date of her first appearance, she found her time well and profitably filled. By the time she is twenty she hopes to have saved enough to carry her through a finishing course in Europe with one of the great masters of his art, and “then,”_ says Mrs. Gildersleeve, with an admiring glance at her protege, “we shall see what we shall seal”—N. Y. Independent.

WHAT HARRISON KNOWS. tfc* Republican Uwi Caused Hard Times— That Ha Had Sqoaadarad the Cleveland Surplus and Account* to Coafcnat the Empty Treasury—That tha New Tariff Brought Prosperity. Ex-President Harrison recently delivered a speech in Mr. Wilson’s district in which he said: “If you hare felt the effects of the depression; if you think more of these effects and prefer not to lead the country through the slough of despondency* show it by defeating Wilson.” McKinley and Sherman also declare that the hard times, which began a year and a-half ago, were due to democratic misrule and the “fear of free trade.” Never before did “statesmen” so misrepresent facts, debase themselves and insult the intelligence of an enlightened nation. Harrison knows only too well what a difficult task he had to keep his empty treasury from collapsing before it was turned over to Cleveland. He knows, as do all the others, that his secretary of treasury had to transfer accounts and to juggle the books to conceal from the public, if possible, the exhausted surplus of 9100,000,000 which Cleveland turned over to Harrison in 1889. He knew that the Sherman silver coinage act of 1890 was rapidly draining the country of gold and that it must result in a panic. He knows, as does Sherman, who voted to abolish his own silver legislation, that the panic was precipitated by the fear of capitalists that gold would go to a premium and that if we continued to coin 94,000,000 of silver a month we would soon drop to a silver basis. He knows that tariff reform was too far away to have had any material effect in starting the depression. He may not know the cause of the periodical panics that affect not only this country, but the whole world, about every ten years, but he does know, or ought to know, that the fear .of “free trade” was not, at any time,” one of the principal causes of the prolonged depression. He knows that his secretary intended and prepared to issue bonds to replenish the treasury. Uncertainty as to what duties would be levied, undoubtedly aggravated and perhaps prolonged the depression. Reed has too much common sense to declare that a tariff bill, that brought prosperity with it, caused a panic a year before it was born. He said, in his New York speech, of October 13th. “Nobody can charge this (depression) fairly to the terms of the tariff which used to exist. What caused this disaster everybody knows who has any business sense^ It was the utter uncertainty, the appalling doubt as to what would happen to us.” Reed is much too tough on the democrats but is not so demagogical as McKinley and Harrison. How little Senator Allison believes of this talk is evident from the fact that he has recently adopted the tariff for revenue plank of the democratic platform. Perhaps the responsibility for hard times has never been more clearly fixed than by Thomas G.. Sherman in his speech in Paterson, N. J., early in 1893. He said:

“What laws are m force? “Republican laws. “Who, when the panic began, held nine-tenths of the offices through which those laws are administered. “Republicans. “Who holds most of the offices to-day? “Republicans. “Who passed the tariff now in existence? “Republicans. * 1_ “Who passed all the tariff laws that have been in existence for the last thirty years? “Republicans. 4 “Is there more or less protection to American industries in force to-day than there was in the first year of Harrison’s administration, when we are told that everything was so prosperous? “More by about one third or one half. “What have the republicans been telling us, for the last thirty years, was the cause of American prosperity? “The Morrill tariff. “Is there more or less protection given by the great and wonderful tariff to-day than was given by the great and wonderful Morrill tariff? “More by 100 per cent, all around; more on woolen goods by 200 per cent.; more on iron and steel by 80 per cent.; more on silk by 60 per cent.; more on Bax manufactures by 100 percent.” To which, after quoting, Congressman McKeighan added: “Everything stands to-day just as Harrison and McKirfley left it, with every American industry protected and everybody in this country guaranteed tremendous prosperity as the result of taxing each other. Yet, here we are.” Prosperity that withers as soon as tariff reduction is suggested cannot be very substantial. Yet that is what McKinley would have us believe his protection prosperity did although it was rooted in thirty years of protection soil. All sensible and unprejudiced persons know that riotous speculation fostered by continuous high protection, which gave special privileges to corporations and trusts had made the country ripe for a panic. They know that the countries that suffered most when the panic came were the highly Erotected countries of Australia, United States and France. WAGES ADVANCING. the Effects of the 3ft>w Tariff Already Belay Felt. More wage-earners in protected industries have had their wages increased since the Wilson bill became law than during the four years of McKinleyism. The American Economist, the protectionist’s organ, published a list of twenty-eight firms that claimed to have advanced wages in 1890, 1891 and 1892. The Reform club investigated all of these advances and found reductions instead of advances in over twenty cases. In a few cases labor unions succeeded in having the wages of a few years previous partly restored. In only one of these cases—of cotton workers at Fall River—were any eon

.■ j lUL-V . siderable number of workers concerned, and the rise in wages to a few thousand of these amounted to about only 5 per cent. Since the passage of the new bill several thousand of the textile workers in Fall River and New Bedford have gained substantial advances in their wages, and several others are still on strike with fair prospects of winning. In New York city about 10,000 workers on garments, who have been getting from about S3 to $6 per week by working twelve, fourteen or sixteen hours a day in“sweat shops,” are now-getting $8 or $10 a week for working ten hours a day in factories. ^ Protectionists may claim that reduced duties had nothing to do with the case of these “sweaters.” Perhaps, but it is strange that the “sweaters” were always unsuccessful during the McKinley times, but were successful as soon as lower duties began to bring about general prosperity. Wage advances are occurring in many protected industries. The Wool and Cotton Reporter, of September 6, says that the weavers in the employ of Rawitzer Bros., of Stafford Springs, have secured a 25 per cent, advance in their wages. On September 27 the Wool and Cotton Reporter says that the proprietor of the Riverside Knitting Mills at Cohoes, N. Y., had promised to increase the wages of his winders on October 1. He also told the striking carders that no increase would be granted before October 1. Other textile workers are now on striko for advances. Of course, some reductions are still occurring. The protected manufacturers have become so accustomed to forming trusts and reducing wages that they expect to continue this sort of business indefinitely. Their expectations will probably miscarry. General prosperity will put everybody to work, and laborers can then have some say as to what shall be their compensation. ■_ “PROTECTED WAGES." Why American Labor Should Experiment with Tariff Reform. The Reform club has just published a Tariff Reform, entitled “Protected Wages.” Besides other similar data, it contains a detailed list of over 1,200 strikes and lockouts because of wage reductions in protected industries from October 6, 1890, to October 6, 1892. These were the two years of unclouded sky for McKinleyism. The election of 1892 had not yet occurrCt and the McKinley bill was left alone to demonstrate its ability to raise wages. Tho above mentioned list is a part of the result. It is by no means complete, but it is sufficient to disprove the claims of protectionists. It will be remembered that at one time during this period the military was in the field in four different states—New York, Pennsylvania, Tennessee and Wyoming— trying to keep peace between ernploy- ; ers and employed. It will also be recalled that the 5,000 Homesteaders did not strike because their wages had been advanced from 15 to 50 per cent. These were halcyon days for McKinley j and his protected wage-earners. When the Reform club published about half of this list in July, 1892, and challenged the protectionists to publish a list of wage advances in protected industries, the American Economist sent out circulars to protected manufacturers all over the country, begging them to report all wage advances. After a few weeks the Economist published the “McKinley Census,” a list of twenty-eight purported wage advances. Almost by accident a Reform club representative learned that one of these reports was a fake. Representatives were sent to all of the mills mentioned, and the whole list was shown to ,.a substantially false. Wage reductions had occurred in nearly all of these mills and the slight advances in a few mills were due to labor unions, and not protection. The “McKinley Census” and its exposure are also a part of the fortyfour page pamphlet, the price of which is five cents. With such a record of “wage advances” the laborer can well afford to experiment with tariff reform. He can’t possibly fare much worse than he has fared under high protection.

Free Wool Is Making friends. “Values knocked sky high by change of tariff;” “we have taken advantage of the low prices of woolens;” “the prices are startling;” and “every garment marked at paralizing prices" is the. way an enterprising Boston clotlpng house advertises its goods in the Boston Herald and at the same time gives New Englanders a tariff lesson by quoting the lowest prices ever heard in Beantown. Free wool is making millions of friends in factories and on the farms. Before 1898 the people will be completely weaned from any desire to return to McKinleyism. Having tasted from the benefits of free*wool, they will ask to have many other raw materials, and perhaps a few manufactured products, put on the free list. News from McKinley. The Iron Age, of November 25' says: “The panic of 1893 has so long passed that it is now almost a reminiscence. Its cruel clutch is xfo more felt on the throat of business men, and they occasionally see matters in a different light from that in which at that time they were regarded.” This will be news for republicans of the McKinley type. It is reliable because it comes from a trade journal whose editors are strong believers in protection theory; but they are not candidates for office and are therefore inclined to tell the truth about the condition of business. United State* lo Lead the World. M. Leroy Beaulieu, the brilliant economic writer and acute observer, writing in a French paper regarding the general industrial outlook throughout the world, advances the opinion that the United States is on the eve oi an important forward movemeut in its industrial expansion. He says that with the extraordinary energy and exnaustless ingenuity ox Americans, and the enormous capital at command, both in this country and abroad, the chances are greatly in favor of the industrial predominance of the United State’s in the world’s business inte^ ests.—Iron Age.

PROFESSIONAL CARDS. J. T. KIMS, M. D„ Physician and Surgeon, PETERSBURG, USD. 49*Offlce in Bank bn tiding, first flow. WIS 0« found at office day or night. GEO. B. ASHBY, ATTORNEY AT LAW PETERSBURG, IND. g Prompt Attention Giron to all Busines* 49*0006 over Barrett A Son's store. Francis B. Foset. Dewitt Q. Chappkl* POSEY & CHAPPELL, Attorneys at Law, Petersburg, Ind. Will practice In all the coarts. Special at* tention given to all business. A Notary Public constantly in the office. 49*Offloe-* On first floor Bank Building. K. A. ELT. 8. G. Davenpo*R ELY & DAVENPORT, LAWYERS, Petersburg, Ind. ^ 49*Office over J. R. Adams A Son’s drug •tore. Prompt attention given to all boat* neaa. E. P. Richardson. a. H. Taylor RICHARDSON & TAYLOR, Attorneys at Law, Petersburg, Ind. Prompt attention given to all business. A Notary Public constantlv in tho office. Offlea in Carpenter Building, Eighth and 2£*ln. DENTISTRY. W. H. STONECIPHER,

Surgeon Dentist, PETERSBURG, IND. Office in rooms 6 and 7 in Carpenter Build* Ing. Operations first-class. All work war* ranted. Anesthetics used tor painless ex* traction of teeth. NELSON STONE, D. V. $., PETERSBURG, IND. Owing to long practice and the possession of a fine library and case of instruments, Mr. Stone is well prepared to treat afl/ ' Diseases of Horses and Cattle STTCCKSSFTELJkY. 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 -wL’Art Da La Mod# | T COLORED PLATES. iU Til LATEST PARIS Alt in TOSS FASHIONS.

eP*Ord«lrU of ToarKevtdeilcroraendS&ceBta tor IHHIiMi borto W.4.H0K8I, Fsbltoter, aiwilMhSI., Hswlw*. ■TSAin THIS FAPUoimj Wm JOB** TRUSTEES* NOTICES OF OFFICE OAT. NOTICE Is hereby given that I will attend to the duties of the 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. GOWEN. Trustee. NOTICE thereby given to all parties interested that I will attend at my offioa> 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. S. BARRETT. Trustee. OTICE ts hereby given to all parties concerned that I will De at ray residence. EVERY TUESDAY, To attend to business connected with the office of Trustee of Monroe township. GEORGE GRIM, Trustee. OTICE 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. 49-Positively no business transacted except on office days SILAS EIRE, Trustee. NOTICE is hereby given to ail parties concerned that I will attend at my residence EVERY MONDAY To transact business connected with the office of Trustee of Madison township. AF-Positively no business transacted except office daya JAMES RUMBLE, Trustee. OTICE is hereby given to all persons interested that I wilt attend in my office in Velpen, EVERY FRIDAY. To transact business connected with the office of Trustee of Marion township; All persons having business with said offloe will please take notice. W. F. BROCK. Trustee. OTICE is hereby given to all persona concerned that 1 will attend at my office EVERY DAI ' To transact business connected with tig of Trustee of Jefferson township. M. W- HARRIS, Trustee. N! n: