People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1896 — Page 6

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A SONG OF THE CYCLE IS is tbe tosr ’ k®" | yond Aladdin’s /I dreaming. 3 /1 The magic wheel t * whose hub is wound wvli A- 11 r ° ads, al'X:„ though they ’ reach the world around, O’er western plains or orient deserts gleaming. this is the skein, from which each day •unravel Such new delights, such witohing flights, such joys Of bounding blood, of glad escape from noise— Such ventures, beggaring old Crusoe's travel. It is as if some mighty necromancer. At king’s command, to please* his lady’s whim, Instilled such virtue in a rubber rim, And brought it forth as his triumphant answer. For wheresoe’er its shining spokes are fleeting, Fair benefits spring upward from its tread, And eyes grow bright, and cheeks all rosy red, Responsive to the heart’s ecstatic beating. Thus youth and age, alike in healthful feeling, And man and maid, who find their paths are one, Crown this rare product'of our century’s “run,” *And sing the health, the joy, the grace of wheeling! —Youth’s Companion.

A PASTEL PORTRAIT.

The picture was charming. There was no denying that. Frank Harwood stood at the window of the shop and stared in at It, as he had done every day for the last week. The execution of the work was not faultless. Some crudities marred it, but the ensemble Was bewitching. The sac of a girl in the first fresh bloom of maidenhood —looked back at you over one mistily-draped white shoulder. The liquid eyes were laughter-lit the slightly-parted scarlet lips had a shy droop, there was a little, round dimple in the chin, the hair that melted into the soft gown and dusky background was a wind-blown tangle of reddish gold. Harwood entered the shop, shutting out the whirling snowflakes behind him. “Is that picture—the pastel portrait In the window —for sale?” he inquired. “No, sir,” he was told. “Can you tell me the name of the original?” “I do not know it, sir. The portrait was left here as a sample to solicit orders.” “You are sure it is a portrait—not merely an ideal head?” "The artist said so.” "Give me his name and address, please.” But when the rising young barrister had the slip safe in his pocket-book and was out again in the white wintry world he began to feel uncomfortably conscious that in this particular instance he was not acting with the discretion on which he ordinarily prided himself. He was a trifle troubled, too, by the recollection of a certain conversation held with his aunt the previous

evening. She was the dearest old lady i” the world and the most generous, e had brought young Harwood up, m him the best procurable educa- , and three years of continental 'el. But on one point, the question of probable marriage, she was ined, he thought, to be dictatorial. k> you refuse to meet Miss Fains-y th, Frank?” she had asked. Ys a suitor—yes,” he had replied, tively. rank felt that he must see the origof the portrait, so discretion was wn to the winds, and starting on juest he reached a row of high, flatd, dreary, red brick houses. In of these the artist must live. e found the number, rang the bell, surly woman, with a smudge of on her cheek opened the door. Ir. Vincent Brand?” asked Hard. 'hird floor back,” she returned, tiy. irwood knocked. A voice bade him r. He went in. . The room was . ?, bare, dreary. Some sketches tacked on the walls. An easel and r stood in the center cf theapartA handful of firs and a tiny

sheet-iron stove made the cold of the place more noticeable. “Mr. Brand, I believe?” ‘ The occupant, an invalid with death written in his hollow eyes, on his blueveined hands, bowed assent“I came,” said Harwood, declining the solitary chair which was proffered him, “about the picture exhibited in Mercer’s It Is not for sale?” “No, sir.” “Not at a large figure?" The artist did not at once answer. He was ill and very poor. “Not at any price,” he slid. “You could not make me a copy?” • “No, sir. The truth of the matter is this: The young lady who consented to sit for me for that picture did so out of her own sweet charity. She is rso beautiful, and makes such a fine study, I fancied her face would bring me orders, where ones less lovely, even if admirable as a likeness, would fail. I need not enumerate to you the reasons why it would be dishonorable for me to abuse her kindness.” “I understand your reasons, Mr. Brand,, and respect them. May I give you an order for a life-sized pastel from this photograph?” He had fortunately remembered having in his pocket the picture of a nephew that morning received. The commission would help the poor artist. . /

A light tap came to the door. “May I come in, Vincent?” called a sweet voice. The door opened. Frank Harwood turned to look into the face that had haunted him waking and sleeping, but a thousand times fairer than the colored crayons had reproduced it. She half drew back at the sight of the stranger, but Brand called to her: “Come In, Claire!” And then, with youthful candor: “This gentleman was just asking about your portrait.” She bowed slightly. She was all in rich'furs and deep glowing velvet. The elegance of her attire puzzled Frank Harwood. “I hope the picture is bringing you orders, Vincent.” ‘‘lt is, indeed,” he answered, brightly. "Well, it is late. I must go. I just ran in to see how you were getting on." He smothered in a fit of coughing. “You have the carriage?” "No, I am on foot.” “I shall see you home, then,” the artist said, looking troubled. “This is not the best neighborhood in the world, and it is growing dark.” The fierce cough shook him again. “You shall do nothing of the kind!” she said, peremptorily. Harwood went forward, hat in hand. “Will you do me the honor of permitting me to accompany you? I am sorry I have not a card. My name is Frank Harwood.” She had been listening with a somewhat haughty air. She smiled now with sudden friendliness. “I shall be glad if you will come with me,” she said, simply. On their way she told him about Brand, whom she had known from childhood. “He is dying,” she said. “It is hard to help him; he is so proud!” The house before which she paused was a magnificent one.

Harwood mustered courage to ask ii he might call. . “No,” she said, gently; and then, as if repenting, “I shall be at Brand’s studio on Friday.” She ran up the steps. Needless to say, Harwood was in the painter’s room early on Friday afternoon. The number of orders he gave quite overwhelmed the artist. She came at last, her face like a rose ovei her dark furs. I They met, not quite by chance, many times, and still Frank did not learn tyer name. He called her Miss Claire. One evening when he was leaving the studio with her, he told her the story of how he had first happened to come there. "I fell in love with a pastel portrait, he said. “I -am to-day in love with the original. But I know so little of you it seems like being in love with a spirit. Are you going to punish my presumption, or reward my daring?”. She indicated her carriage that stood at the curb. “Get in,” she said, smiling. “I chance to be driving your way.” Ttye vehicle stopped at his aunt’s door. “Do you know my aunt?” he began. Just then his aunt came towards them. “Claire, my dear!” she cried. “Frank, where did you meet Miss Fainsworth?” “Fainsworth!’ he repeated, blankly. “You”—he reproached Claire—"knew me all the time!” “Do you think 'l would have let you see me home that night if I did not?” she asked, archly. “What in the world are you children talking about?” Frank’s aunt questioned. They only laughed. But there that in the lovely eyes raised to his which told him he might plead again—and uot In vain,

KATE M. CLEARY.

That Bright Smile Was His Last.

As they led the condemned man from his cell they saw that he was smiling. Even they were binding him in the electric chair the smile lingered on his lips. The curiosity of the warden was aroused. He paused with his thumb gently touching the fatal button and asked the cause of his unseemly mirth. “I—l was just thinkin’," chuckled the malefactor, “how I’m foolin’ my old school teacher. He always said I was born to be hanged.” Then the warden’s thumb came down.

THE PEOPLE’S PILOT, RENSSELAER, IND.. THURSDAY JULY 9, 1896

A LOST COURTESY.

They were a group of choice spirits and they gathered daily in the same place, in summer beneath the widespreading boughs of a pride of India, and in winter before the hearth in the dingy little office of Squire Brice. The aforesaid boughs shaded the door of the aforesaid office, and as the same choice spirits met every day, or rather lounged all day, naturally many questions were broached and exhaustively discussed among them. They were speaking of politeness one day, each man giving his opinion of the quality of true politeness. The subject had been widely discussed and began to dwindle, when one of the group, who had been a silent listener, revived it with an observation, giving his personal reasons why too much of a good thing can be just as bad as a paucity of well-being. “Yassir,” observed Jere Dlnkim, the last speaker, stepping from behind the fire and lifting the cloth of his hot trousers away from the calves of his spindling legs, “Yassir, gentlemen, perliteness mought be a mighty good thing, but when run to death hit’s wusser’n no manners ,a-tall. That-ar article,” he resumed, looking around the assem-

“A YALLER JACKET."

bly with a glance as of one who thoroughly knew the business, “that-ar article is like a blanket that’s pleg£y big enough in the middle, but too short at both ends. Now,” argumentatively, “I do ’low that perliteness showed toe a ole ’oman ain’t wasted, but I do hold, mighty tight grip, too, that the finest article of perliteness showed toe a gall is not only wasted, but goes pow’ful agin the feller thet shews hit.” There was an interested movement among the crowd and Jere continued, confidentially: "Now, gen’lenmen, lemme tell yer a leetle something about how perliteness toe a gall sometimes hurts a feller. A right smart while ago, when I was a-livin’ over toe the Haslett settlement, I fell mightily in love with a gall. She was pow’ful purty—ess head-sw’immin’, she was so purty. I wanted toe ax her toe marry me, but dinged if a tremblin’ didn’t grab me by the knees every time I tried toe spit out the words, an’ my jaw’d jess drap same’s a yaller dawg’s w’en he’s a-beggin fer craoklins. But dinged es my chaps wouldn’t git that dry that ’sted o’ speakin’ hit out, a’ter I got as far even as toe ’low ‘Miss Rose,’ I’d just beg for a gourd o’ water, whichar ’peared I bust es I didn’t "Well, thar was another feller a-goin’ ter see her, a-hangin’ ’roun’,- castin’ sheeps-eyes an’ the lak, a sort of dandyish buck named Critchett —Ike Critchett. An’ you kin’ just bet hit was nip an’ tuck ’twixt me an’ that-ar Critchett, I ’low toe you’uns. We didn’t git mad—leastwise, I didn’t, but Critchett sort er snorted ’round a bit, talkin’ ’bout satisfaction an’ sich, an’ one day he did Tow thet a dewel was tef be fit betwix’ us befo’ night. “Well,” retrospectively, f’om sartln signs I seed I knowed the gall’s jedgment was a-waverin’, and seed at the same time that hit wouldn’t take much on nuther side ter fix ’er, so I jess nachelly didn’t take no notice of Ike’s foolishness. “Hit happened thisser-way,” Jere continued, warming to his story. “Enjurin’ that summer, the biggest campmeetin’ that ever was held in the Haslett settlement was a gwyne on, an’ of cose Miss Rose an’ her folks, bein’ perfessers mostly, was all thar. Thar was a pow’ful sight er folks that claimed kin with the gall, an’ some of ’em was fer me and some of ’em was fer Critchett. Betwix’ the singin’ an’ the prayin’ we seed a heap of Miss Rose —that is toe say, we run neck an’ neck. When I war thar, Critchett he was thar, an’ when Critchett war thar, why, I follered right erlong. “Miss Rose’s maw was a baptis’—a hardshell —but her paw didn’t profess no religion, nohow, but he come erlong ter th’ meetin’ jus’ ter keep th’ ’omen straight, he sed. But I knowed he’d come jess ter see th’ runnin’ betwix’ me an’ that ’ar sassy shoat, Critchett. The old man he done took me out behind the fodder stack ’fo’ we started, an’ he Towed ter me thet he’d see th’ way things was a-settin’ ’twixt Critchett ’n’ me, an’ he Towed, he did, thet he’d put a bug in Mis§ Rose’s year. But I Towed, ‘No, siree! I don’t want no paw meddlin’ an’ pesterin’ ’bout the gall I’m settin’ up toe, ’kuse I knowed as true as prayin’ that galls ’n’ ’omen was curus critters. A gall an’ a cow is just the same. Feed' ’em fodder outen hand an’ they’ll tramp hit down, but 'head ’em off from a pile of dead wire grass, an’ they’ll climb a ten-rail fence ter git toe hit. Same way with galls, an’ I knowed if Miss Rose’s paw’d tole her toe act pretty toe the man he was ter sort out, the fat ’ud be in the fire, sho. “Well, things was a-gettin’ serious in a religious way with Miss Rose’s hardshell maw toed the las’ of th’ meetin’ an’ one evenin’ we was a-settin’ in a bunch, listenin’ toe th’ preachin’. The ■ol’ lady had done made up her mind toe git religion an’ she was gwine toe git hit mighty strong, an’ she got the idee that hit would be a mighty good thing if she didn’t git sanctified bv

herself, but brung somebody erion fe with her. I was a-settin’ npxt Miss Rose on one side an* Miss Rose’s maw come an’ plumped down by thet misable sinner of a Crltchett an’ commenced a-exhortin’ an’ a-persuadin’ hotter’n a yaller hound on a trial. Crltchett he was afeered toe make the ol’ lady mad, so he set an’ listened an’ ’lowed' ‘Yes’m’ toe everythin, she sed, while I got over ground with Miss Rose. “That-ar made Crltchett madder’h a wet hen*an’ after meet’n’ leetle Bunchy Calley toe tell me thet es I could leave pesterin’ a gall long enough toe pome but in the pine thicket he’d lick me quicker'n/ a houn’ pup can lick a skillet, an’ you know that’s pow’ful quick. We went out in the thicket an’ a lot of the boys was a-waitin’ toe see the fun, an’ without any foolishness we clinched an’ went at hit. We fit fur a leetle an’ both of us was a-gittin’ blowed. My nose was skinned and Critchett’s eye was most gouged out, when here come two preachers an’ half a dozen deacons amblin’ out inter th’ thicket ter break up th’ dewel. “Of course, after we’d fit Crltchett an’ me didn’t speak, but we both kep’ acourtin’ th’ gall. If he went a-walkin’ on one side I was right thar on t’other, an’ th’ purty creetur was as sweet toe me as she war toe him. “Things would a’ come out sooner, but Miss Rose went toe see her married sister In Pineville hn’ stayed till' nigh about Christmas, an’ when she come home some of the young folks got up a barn dance in the schoolhouse for her. As soon as I heard she was home I cut over to see her, thinking I would be thar befo’ Crltchett had done heard she had come, but, bless my soul, when the ol’ lady opened the do’ who was a-sittin’ thar grinhin’ like a ’possum in a holler tree but that sorrel-top ijit, Crltchett, an’ he had done ast her toe let him 'scort her toe th’ barn dance, too.

“I let Crltchett set me out that time, but I done had a scheme I was gwyne toe work on him an’ had toe be lively if I wanted hit toe work smooth. “I hunted up ol’ Abs’lom, th” nigger fiddler, an’, drappin’ a quarter into his ol’ black pam, I ’xplained my idee an’ I tell yer hit worked like new soap. The gall was a-dancin’ oppersite me when the fiddler give out the Agger ter change pardners an’ I jest danced up toe her as keerless an’ gay as a young shoat, an’ when I belt out my hand she give me hern an’ then th’ fiddler, moved by the devil, most likely, forgot toe change us back an’ we danced half the day together. “Well, sub, Satan he put hit into th’ gall’s haid not toe go home with any one of us, but toe snuggle up toe her ol’ daddy when the dance was over. We were a-goin' home on th’ train an’ th’ kyar was crowded, me an’ Critchett asettin’ on th’ same seat. A heap of folks was standin’ up an’ all of a suddin I looked around an’ thar stood our gall. “Now, here was a fix. By gittin’ qp I would be perlite, but hit would give him a mighty fine chance toe do some pleadin’, plastered thar so dost ter her. I studied a minit or two, then Critchett seed her, but wouldn’t move a peg. “At last up I bounces. ‘Miss Rose,’ I says, ‘have this ’ere seat.’ She lauß-hfid sa jnurtv sn’ sot. down A sympathetic glance ran round the company and some one murmured: “Ah, she married Critchett?” “Naw, she didn’t nuther, not by a blamed sight! She married me, an’ es that ’oman ain’t bin a yaller-jacket an’ a torment toe me ever since I don’t want toe eat no mo.” “An’,” mournfully, “the beauty of the question is that es I hadn’t bin so dodgasted perlite she mought hev married Crltchett."

Half Hates to St. Louis.

July 20th and 21st, good returning not later than July 27,” one fare for the round trip, Rensselaer to St. Louis account people’s party Convention. O. H. Beam, Agt. Hammocks, croquet sets and base ball goods at A. F. Long’s, the druggist.

! Do You ! •*> Want a | Bicycle?! Buy a ® i fW THEY ARE THE ’ * ' ..BEST. J Wheel ; On the Market for the Money ; ! and you should not fail to exam- * J ine them before purchasing . . . } J 5 We Also Rent I. ‘ ‘ 5 | Bicycles | • Call,ou us at the I Pilot Office \

Monon Time Table No. 27, in Effect June 21. NORTH BOUND. | SOUTH No 4.... V. 4.48 a m Nd 31, ~.‘.4.4$ am No 40 7.21 a m No 5 ..10.68a m No 32 10.07 a m No 33 1.09 p m No 6 3-30 p mNo 39 6.05 p tn' No 30,..........7X8 pm No 3 ...11.13p m N 074 B.oßpm No 45 2.40 p m N 046, 9.30 am No 31 does not stop No 32 stops at Rens- at Rensselaer, selaer to let off pasen gers. 74 carries passengers betweep Monon and Lowell. A new train, No. 12, dally except. Sunday, has been put on between Monon and Lafayotte. ' Passengers can now leave Lafayette at 5.38 p m and arrive in Rensselaer at 7.30 pm.

BANKS. Alfred McCoy, Pres. T. J. McCoy, Cash. A. R. Hopkins. Assistant Cashier. A. MCCOY & CO’S BANK RENSSELAER, IND. The Oldest Bank in Jasper County. ESTABLISHED 1854. Transacts a general banking business, buys notes and loans money on long or short time o«fi*ersonai or real estate security. Fair treatment is promised to aIL Interest paid on time deposits. Foreign exchange bought and sold. Your patronage is solicited. Patrons having valuable papers mt v deposit them for safe keeping. Addison Parkison, Geo. K. Holdings worth, President. Vice President. Emmet L. Hollingsworth, Cashier. Commercial State Bank, RENSSELAER, INDIANA, THE ONLY STATE BANK IN JASRER CO. Directors: Addison Parkison, James T. Randle, John M. Wasson, Geo. K. Hollingsworth and Emmet L. Hollingsworth. This bank is prepared to transact a general banking business. Interest allowed on time deposits. Money loaned and good notes bought at current rates of interest. A share of your patronage Is solicited. Are open for business at the old stand of the Citizens’ State Bank. RENSSELAER BANK. JST. O. Harris, JPres. E. T. Harris, Vice-JPres. J. C. Harris, Cashier. Money loaned and notes purchased. Exchange issued and sold on all banking points. Deposits received. Interest bearing certificates of deposit issued. We make farm loans at six per cent interest payable annually. Collections made ana promptly remitted. DOOTCPS. I. B. Washburn, M. D. E. c. English M. D. Physicians and Surgeons, RENNSELAER,' IND. Dr. Washburn will give special attention to Diseases of the Eye. Ear. Nose, Throat and Chronic Diseases. Dr. English will give special attention to Surgery in all Departments, and general medicine. Office over Ellis & Murray’s. Telephone No. 48. A. MILLS, . PHYSICIAN AND Office in the Stockton Block north of Court House. TELEPHONE 29. RENSSELAER. A. L. BERKLEY, M. D Physician and Surgeon. Unusual facilities for Surgicial Operations. Office in Leopold’s Arcade Building. RENSSELAER IND. Diseases of Women and Children a Specialty.

JAMES W, DOUTHIT, ' LAWYER, Rensselaer - Indiana. RALPH W. MARSHALL 11 ATTOBNET. Special attention 'givon to settlement of Decedent’s Estates, Collections, Conveyances, Justices’ Cases. Office on Washington St., opposite Court House, Rensselaer, Indiana. Ira W. Yeoman. ATTORNEY. REMINGTON, IND. Insurance and real estate agent. Any amount of private money to loan ou farm security. Interest 6 per cent. Agent for International and Red Star steamship lines. MORDECAI F. CHILCOTE, .A.T Xu AW, Rensselaer, Ind. Attends to all business in the profession with promptness and dispatch. Office in secondstorv of the Makeever building. Geo. K. Hollingsworth. Arthur H. Hopkins. Hollingsworth & Hopkins. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. Rensselaer, ---------- Inp Office second floor of Leopold’s Block, corner Washington and Van Rensselaer streets. Prrcticein all the courts, and purchase, sell and lease real estate. Attty’s for L. N. A. & C. Rw. Co., B. L. &S. Associan and Rensselaer Water, Light & Power Company. Simon P. Thompson. D. J. Thompson. M. L. Spitler. THOMPSON & BROTHER, Lawyers and Real Estate Brokers, Have the only complete set of Abstract Books in town. Rensselaer, - - Indiana. AV HORTON. DENTAL SURGEON. Rensselaer, Ind. All who would preserve their natural teeth should give him a call. Special attention given to filling teeth. Gas or vitalized air for painless extraction. Over Laßue Bros. H. L. BROWN, D. D. 8. c * row »* Bridge Teeth W ithout Platea a Specialty. Gas or vltilized air administered for the painless extraction of teeth. Give me a trial. Office over Porter Sc Yeoman’s.

WHEELER & WILSON'S HIGH-ARM NEW NUMBER NINE IS THE PERFECT SEWING MACHINE FOR FAMILY USE MRS. HUGH TRANOR, Agent, Remington. Ind. W. R. NOWELS, Real Estate. Loans, Insurance, CollectionsFarms and City property for salo. Office front room Leopold’s Bazaar. RENSSELAER, - - - - - IND. E. M. PARCELS, Barber., Three Chairs. Rensselaer, Indiana. Isaac Glazebrook Scientific Horseshoeing AND GENERAL Blacksmithing. Repair agricultural Implements and all kinds of machinery. Wheelwright in connection. Shop on Front street near Saylor’s Mill. Rensselaer. Ind. New Meat Market CREVISTON BROS. Rensselaer, Indiana. Shop located opposite the public square. Everything fresh and clean. Fresh and salt meats, game, poultry,etc. Please give us a I call ana we will guarantee to give you satisfaction. Remember the place. Highest market price paid for hides and tallow! C. P. KAHLER, z? Main Street, 4SIL. near zzr Depot, Blacksmithing, Horseshoeing WAGONMAKING. Special attention to repairing Machinery and Duplicating Castings in Iron or Brass. ALL WORK NEATLY DONE. Rensselaer, Ind.

C. W. Duvall, The only reliable Hackman in town. DUVALL’S ’BUS makes all trains, phone 147, or Nowels House. Transfer wagon in connection with ’bus. Calls to all parts of the city promptly attended to. The First Monthly HORSE SALE AT COODLAND, Ind Will Be Held Wednesday, July 24,1896 Live stock of any kind, and farm prod uce of whatever nature will find a ready market. Stalling, shipping facilities And other accommodations first-class. For further information apply to DR. O. H. MOHNEY, Secretary, Goodland, Ind. ©Mon’s PILLS Are perfect health Jewels. never known to distress but infallible to relieve. When everythingetse has failed to bring you relief for headache, biliousness, stomach andliver complaints GT ASK YOUR DRUGGIST for THURSTON'S PILLS. By saaU M eeats ... 'ttMPjMMMINBSb" For Sale by Frank B Meyer.