Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 February 1887 — Page 6

the OLD MKETINO-HOUBK. ,nr.i.innm It stood there on the Moping green, N« nr the m ir„in of the w<*»l. - The narrow grave-yanl iay iwtween, Where the gray atone* silent stood! Beneath them alept the true and stud, An<l ah. how near and dear! Nay, none 'neath those green mounds confined were buried without a tear. Dm old house waUa were warped and seamed. And the roof was frayed ami worn. The low door whore tbs sunlight streamed In the summer Sabbath mom, ' ' Bore impress of the ceaseless tread. Through the unrein ember ed years. Of passing pilgrims, long since dead. And gone from a vale of tears. In fancy-— lo, the pnlntt plain,— The benches of yellow pine; And hark the simple, sweet refrain Of music that seemed divine: Songs ni< re melodious to my ear Than strains of cathedral grand ; ’ S -E'en how their echo 1 seem to hear. Float back from the Heav'nlv land. Mr father's voice there read the Word, There my mother sat so meek ; Her fair face told her heart was stirred, And her (»od uot far to seek : Oh, bless that mother, sweet and mild, Her day* have bsuu lengthened long', She ll not forget her weary child When she joins the angel throng. That chapel old—ah. nevermore Will it sound with praise and prayer; Those scenes are now forever o'er— It standeth no longer there : _ And they who sought, in years agono Those 1 tenches tlf yellow pine. Have bid farewell and jonni 'yed on To the longed-for borne divine. •—Bos/on Courier.

A MYSTERY EXPLAINED.

BY MARY R. P. HATCH.

“ Stranger than Fiction. Miss Mancy Weatherly, n maiden Indy, lor many years a resident of Walden, was found dead in her bed last Wednesday morning. It is believed that Bhe died of heart disease. She was very eccentric and made her will in an extraordinary manner. The young lady who has lived with her Bim-e childhood found pinned to her pillow a slip of paper upon which was written: “Find my will. You will be paid for your trouble." An anxious search was immediately instituted by the relatives, and the will was at last round braided up in the old lady’s wig. The sum of one dollar was given each relative, while the bulk of her property, about twenty thousand, was left the young lady above mentioned. Miss Clarice Wynne. Seme novelist will seize open this item and make capital of it.” Mr. N’atbaaielWeatherly was uot auoveliat, but he seized upon this item and with set teeth and lowering brow read it through many times, noting each paragraph separately. At last, pushing back his chair violently, he ejaculated with great force: “What villainy is this, scheming creature? 11l ease you of your twenty thousand." Hastily writing a note he gave it to his clerk, and this duty accomplished, again ran his eye over the newspaper item which had made such havoc with his usual culm demeanor. Mr. Wetherly was a broker, n man of considerable wealth and of excellent business reputation, and was uot one of the relatives referred to as having assisted in the search for the will; on the contrary, though her nearest kin, he had not been near the solitary old lady except upon one occasion for many years. As is often the case, however, the dead relative was of more interest than the living one. At the time of her death he bad been in Pennsylvania upon business and knew nothing of the affair until his return. His wife then handed him the daily journal and jointed to the notice, only stopping to •ay: “We were invited to the funeral, but as you were away 1 sent regrets for us both. ” Mr. Weatherly knew that a young girl, a dependent, lived with his consin. Indeed, he had seen her upon the. occasion of his visit; besides, he had received letters from her written at the old lady's dictation, but he had never approved of this girl, ior, as he reasoned, dependents were always scheming and artful, and she was not likely to be au exception. He, however, could not prevent her staying with his cousin, ns he had no influence with either. A quiet, gentlemanly young man was at last ushered into the broker’s office. It was Mr. Neal, a young detective, who had called in answer to the note from Mr. Weatherly. The two immediately plunged into conversation.

“Now. Mr. Neal,” said (he broker, “I want yon to tell me what points strike you the most forcibly in tEia affair." “Why, at iiret this, assuie.ily, that she must have known, or supposed, she was going to die, or she would not have pinned that slip to her pillow. That looks like Bnieide, doe 6 it not, instead of heart disease?” 1 “Anything else?" asked Mr. Weatherly, eagerly. “I don’t like to mention in this stage of proceeding the other thought which has j occmred to me.” “Let me voice it for you. You think, on the other hand, that it looks just as if some interested person, or this young j insiauce, had pinned the slip to her pillow j after administering a neat little dose-of i morphine.” “My dear sir.” said the young man, has- j tily, “that would be 100 much to say. Miss, j Weatherly may have beeii apprehensive of sudden death. If slie had a disease of the heart she undoubtedly was.” “And so pinned that slip to her pillow niglgly?” “I did not say that. She may have felt worse than usual before retiring.” “We) are losing time, Mr. Neal, in these speculations,” said the broker, impatiently, “for l ean prove to you at once that a great fraud has been practiced, that my cousin never wrote the slip at all.” “How do you know this?" “From the simple reason that rnyre•pected relative could not write.” said Mr. Weatherly, drily. Mr. Neal looked surprised by this declaration. as well he might,; “Fs It possible?”- , Jhe cried. .... .L ~*lt is increditable as it seeths. Maucy was always a strange child, and, though bright and exceptionally clever about some things, could never learn to write, or i rou.ld not, which was about the same thing. She was a spoiled child, as only children are apt to be; her mother died when she was an infant and her father j a morose, silent man, took little heed of her ways.” “But how old was she when she died?” “About 70.” “She may have learned to write in after years.” . “No, I know for certainty that she never did. This Clarice Wj nne has done all her writing, and if I mistake not, she wrote that slip of pnper likewise. - T~ know" my cousin could not write, for she tola me so. I took it into my head to run up and see her last summer. She was very punctilious. Every New Years I received a line from her, through Miss Wynne, to tell me that she was well, and to inquire after my own health, until the affair grew monotonous. 1 took a strong dislike to this girl without ever having seen her, which grew stronger when I did see her, xrd on this occasion of my visit, the day I ' came home, I begged Money as a favor to . write to me herself.’ ‘Bless: you,’ says the, ‘didn’t you know I can’t write?’ I bad forgotten it. and I said heartily, ‘but have you never learnt?* ‘No,’ said she. •you cau’t teach old dogs new tricks, and

- ' what I couldn’t learn when X was young I sha'n't bo apt to attempt now,' ’Clarice is ears, eyes, and hands, for the old womau. Y’ou will have (o hear from mo through her or not at all.’ ” “She spoke fondly of Clarice, it seems.” <- “I**, sho was fond of her. There was no donbt about that.” *B«t she can’t be a very quick-witted girl.” 'j' , '-v :—- . “Bntshe la." ■■- 1 • : ■ ■ ... “Then she never planned the villiany you suspect. If she knew that Miss Weatherly could not write, and that others know it, consider how foolish she must -be to commit such n manifest fofgety.” “Perhaps, she will say that she wrote the slip at my cousin's dictation,” said the broker.” “Or that Miss AVeatherly, learned to write in her Inst dnys.” said thadetective. “It is a strange nffair, amt I menp to have it thoroughly investigated. I know very little about it, or of my cousin's life nnd associates, nnd I cnye veiv little for niy share of the twenty thousand, but as her nearest relation it is my duty to discover whether she has Iteeti foully dealt by. Mv friend, Mr. Barnes, spoke to me so highly of your skill in tlie Munster affair that I want you to take hold of this if you will. The young man flushed under this compliment-, nnd for other rensonshs well. l!e did uot exactly like the aspect of the affair, and yet it moused all his detective an<l ho finally consented. “Twill introduce you as mv nephew upon my wife's side, and say that you were visiting mg and that I invited you to accompany me to Malden for the iishing. It is a famous place for trout, and the hotel, is quite near.” “Very Well,” replied the young man.

Quiet reigned in the little house in Malden. so lately occupied by Miss Mancy. No inquest had been thought necessary, and the funeral passed oft' quietly. The score of relations, though greedy, were honest and unsuspecting, and though nngry enough at losing the anticipated wealth, yet went no farther than to say that Miss Wynne had v.ormed herself into the old lady's confidence for the purpose of becoming her heiress. They were slowwitted, the Malden Wealherlys, and though more than one must have known that Miss Money did not write, few stopped to consider whether she could write, and besides the will seemed to be regular < nongb, only the alleged witnesses had both emigrated to Washington Territory, nnd never been heard from, nnd the lawyer who drew it up was very ill in Brighton; too ill to be approached upon business and too ill to recover, it was said. So Miss Wynne pros left severely - aIoDC by the relatives; nnd lonely, indeed, she must have been in the little house so lately shadowed by death, and with no companion save an old woman whom she engaged to stay with her. A tall, fair young lady, attired for a walk, came out the door just as Mr. Weatherly and Mr. Nenl approached. She came toward the former with outstretched bands. *O, Mr. Weatherly, I am so glad to see yon. It has been so lonely Bince Aunt Money died.” “Thank you. Miss Wynne, for your cordial greetiug,” said Mr. Weatherly. “Allow me to introduce you to ray nephew, Mr. Neal Hardy.” A quiet, trusting hand was laid in the young man’s, and when it was removed ho felt like a vidian. However, the detective had seen much of life, in particular its darker portion, and was therefore unlikely to let a momentary emotion master him. Accordingly he began to note Miss Wynne’s mar ’ er toward Mr. Weatherly, which, it seemed, could not have been more proper. “She is no buuglar any way. She never wrote that slip and pinned it j.o the dead woman’s pillow unless there was a plausabie reason for doing so,” he thought. lie excused himself in a few minutes, saying that he would return to the hotel. He wished to begin investigations at once, and in the interval before his uncle’s return he learned much concerning Miss Weatherly’s manner of life and eccentricities. Mr. Weatherly remained in the garden talking with Miss Wynne. “1 told you,” said Mr. Weatherly to Neal, recounting the interview, “that I'had come to Malden to learn the manner and cause of my cousin’s death; that I considered a great forgery had been committed, for, as she, knew aiid 1 knew, my cousin could not

write. She said that Maucy must have learned for this very purpose.” “Do you agree with her?” asked the detective,' although he felt irritated at Mr. Weatherly's course. He would have preferred riot to have had Miss Wynne acquainted with these suspicions. “No, indeed,” said the broker, “I do not. Does it look reasonable?” “Not very, I admit. She did not say that she wrote the slips at the old lady’s dictation?” “No, she claimed to know nothing about it. But come go up with me to-morrow. I mustered a little courtesy to my aid on your account. I did not let her see my drift completely, for I did not wish to sever my connection with the house. She invited me to call to-morrow to look over the papers and to select some keepsakes and soforth. I told her I would like to bring my nephew with me, if agreeable, and sh?’ cordially consented.” “Miss' Wynne is no ordinary girl,” said Mr. Neal. “I hope so—for the credit of the rest,” said Mr, Weatherly, dryly. Mr. Neal was unprepared for the beautiful vision that met them at the door, for in her home dress of blue, with dainty white apron, and little rings of fair hair falling over her forehead, she looked far lovelier than the evening before. “It is a sad time for you to visit the Weatherly homestead. Did not Mr. Weath- ! erlv tell me that you were a relative?” she ; said, i “Not ou the Weatherly side. I think he must have told you that I am his nephew , upon his wife's side.” “Perhaps so; but the family is so large I i do riot know all the connections.” I She visibly brightened. Evidently the I Weatherly's were too numerous, since they all managed to plant a thorn in the rose of ; her inherited wealth. Quiet, but observant* , the young man busied himself in looking over a photograph album, while the others conversed together“Do you really think my cousin learned to write in her last days?” asked Mr. Weatherly. “Tcan hardly say that T think so, and yet I don't know what to think if* she -did not? I will show you the slip,” and she left the room. “I will pass it over to yon, nnd you must continue to compare it with Miss Wynne’s t«-uers, which I gave you,” said Mr, Weath- ! erly. L * ±—a ('-••“Very well,” and Miss Wynne entered with the slip. It was well,;though somewhat feebly written; the letters were of ■ modern style and; very much resembled Miss i Wynne’s handwriting.as the broker noticed !at once. “Pretty good writing for an old lady, isn’t it, Neal?” passing it over, to the young man. “Resembles yours, Miss .Wyhne, does it not?” “It does somewhat.” replied" she with great self-control, although she, flushed deeply. j “She must have taken lessoned *ou,” said Mr. Neal. i “No I never saw her write, nor was I aware that she ever attempted to. Matters look 1 . ■■■ t—-d—, i ■ u ÜBS

M If she learned, but how, why; or when, I i do not know,” replied Miss Wynne. A weaker girl would have fallen into the : trap be bad set, would hare said that she thought that Miss Mancy had tried lo learn, that she had seen her busied with pencil, paper* etc., etc. That she did not, argued unimpeachable integrity or deepest depravity,. . I“Was she troubled with heart disease?" asked Mr. Weatherly*———■-/ ■ “Bhe complained of a p&iu in her heart sometimes, and she tqld me only a few days before she died that (she should not live long, and should probably die suddenly." “Ho yon think she jiud any spite against her re stives?” “Y'es, sir. She often said she had no one in the world to care for her but ine,” said the 1 young lady, and tears stole into her eyes. “Muncy was not very affectionate," said her cousin. “She Was kind-hearted and true, ns I. a friendless orphan, know full well,” returned Mi s Wynne, with some spirit. Mr. Neal looked at her, with a fastgrowing belief that she was innocent of crime, if crime there was. “Have you the pillow-case to which this was pinned?" asked Mr. Weatherly. (These questions had been suggested by the young detective.» “No. it is at the washerwoman’s.” “Will yon allow me .tp examino my cousin's room?” She looked nt him keenly. “Certain suspicions have arisen, as I told you Inst night,” said he, “which, for yonr own sake, it is best should be set at rest. Can we not count upon your aid?” “Y’ou can," she replied.- “Everything shaU.be open to your scrutiny.- Her room is iust as she left it.” “Come, Neal,” said Mr. Weatherly. “Y'our eyes are brighter than mine.” Drawers and secretaries were unlocked, everything subjected to the closest scruliny, but not one scrap of Miss Weatherly’s wriling could be found. It would seem, indeed, as if she had never traced aline; and yet Miss Wynne professed to know nothing of the slip. \\ hat could it mean but forgery, and with a direr significance attached to it if she could not write? Had the hand that wrought this villiany been Btill more deeply sleejied in guilt? Nothing was discovered to throw the least light upon the subject, and the two gentlemen withdrew, leaving Miss Wynne a prey to the deepest anxiety. Mr. Weatherly returned to his home the same day, but left Neal at the hotel.

A walk to the washerwoman, whose name Miss Wynne had mentioned, resulted in a gleam of light, it seemed to Neal, as he sat down that night in his room and unrolled a pillow slip. It looks providential that she has been sick and unable to wash. “I wonder if I reckon too much upon these pinholes,” he muttered. “Here they are, oue, two, three, four, five, six,” holding it up to the light which gleamed through the tiny punctures. “The slip has but two. So that could have been pinned on but once. A new one written every day. Then the old lady must have burned them in the morning when she found she was alive. A grim joke! Three separate slips were pinned to this one. Two nights she looked for death, but did not find it. That does not look like murder or suicide; it looks as if she felt that she might die at any time,, just as Miss Wynne said. Who told her she would die? Her physician most likely. I’ll see him to-morrow. Jfchree sets of holes, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday—the very night she died. (They change bed-linen Sundays, I be-" lievei. Expecting death makes the vital spark burn low, I’ve heard.” Neal called on the doctor, who was too busy a man to be a curious one. He answered the inquiries courteously but briefly. Yes, Miss Weatherly had a disease of the heart. He told her that she would die suddenly, and she did. Did he ever receive a note from her? No, but he had from Miss Wynne,-she did Miss Weatherly's writing. Thus the matter rested. Nothing more could be learued; But meantime, it bad undergone a wonderful turn in Neal’s mind. He ha l met the young lady several times, and each interview but served to impress the belief more fully upon him that she was innocent and to' bind shackles of dove about his heart more lirmly. One day he wpb listlessly passing by an old tumble-down building, when seeing a peddler’s cart hitched before it, a sudden thought struck him, anti he entered. “Do I collect rags at the Weatherly’s?” said the peddler, in answer to Neal’s question. “Yes, sir, I do. You see that bag over yonder? 1 took ’em this verymornin'. Might you look ’em over? Snrtnin, I iiain't no objection. You won’t find no great vallv.” Down ou the dirty floor Mr. Neal got and helped to sort the bag which contained rags, old newspapers, and scraps of old letters. A small roll neatly tied With thread atlast came to view. Opening it, the detective ran his eyes over the various scraps of handwriting which it contained. Neal’s heart stood still. The very consummation he had hoped for, if the faint idea might be called a hope! Here, was the story told as plainly as words could do it. i Miss Weatherly, in the furtherance of ! her plan, had learned to write just enough i to write that slip, which she pinned nightly to her pillow. It was here. F's without number, then “find, find my will, find my will,” in various degrees of excellence, and all copied, it would seem, from an old letter of Miss Wynne's which was tied up with the packet. A complete copy appeared amongst them: “Find my will. You will be paid for your trouble.” Miss Weatherly’s

grim humor and distrust of her relatives was seen in nil this. It was as if she hoped to triumph even in death over this disappointment; but it is safe to say she •• never considered the perilous position in which she placed Clarice. A brighter, clearer-eyed young man was Mr. Neal when he arose frem his search. “May I have these?” he asked the peddler. The latter glanced them over, “Yes, they ain’t no heft nor no ’count, anyway,” said he. * - * * » * ♦ * It is well said that there is a tide in the affairs of men. The tide of Miss Wynne’s had turned and all flowed smoothly back t© qniet waters. As Mr. Neal entered her house to acquaint her with tho discovery,he saw the well-known face of Mr. Bradley, a celebrated lawyer, who had recovered from his illness, at least sufficiently to come to Malden, when he learned of . the supieions regarding Miss Wynne. The two were introduced, and it soon became plain that the discovery was not needful. Miss Weatherly had acquainted the lawyer with her plan and, had had two wills,' sac-similes of each other, drawn up. The lawyer kept one, in case the other, which was placed in her -wig, should pot be discovered. “Yon ha ye employed a detective, it seems,” said the lawyer to Miss Wynne. “I have heard of Mr. Neal,and I can vouch, for his honor and faithfulness.” “I was employed by Mr. Weatherly,” said Neal. *• Clarice shot an indignant look at him, whieh was met with one so pleading that she dropped her eyes. “I can say nothing,” said the young man, “but that, though employed by Mr. Weatherly, I have been in Miss Wvnne’s service since I saw her.” ' “Gallantly said and truly, I have no doubt,” said Mr. Bradley. Thus the matter ended. One or two of the relatives talked of contesting the will

on Ihe ground* tkat Miss Mancy was not of sound mind, but they despaired of proving it and gave it up./ / ' < In the antumn a quiet wedding took place at Malden. The happy couple were no other than the heiress and young Neal, the detective. - .

Galley -Slaves of the Last Century.

The life of the French galley-slaves of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries has been thus described by Admiral do la Graviere: “They place seven men on each beach; that is to say, in a space ten feet long lrv four feet wide. "They are so packed away that you can see nulling from stern to bow but the heads of the sailors. The captain and the officers are not much better off. When tlie seas overtake the galleys, when the north wind howls along the coast, or when the sirocco dampens the passengers with its deadly moisture, all these make the galley a perfect hell. The lamentation oJ the ship’s company, the shrieks of the sailors, the horrible bowling of the convicts, the groaning of the timbers, mixed with the clanking of the chains, and the natural noises of the storm, produce an effect which will terrify the bravest of mem Even, the calm has its inconvenience. The horrid smells are so powerful that you cannot withstand them, despite the fact that you use tobacco in some shape from morning till night. “Condemned in 1701 to serve in the galleys of France on account of being a Protestant, Jean Martelle de JBugerac died in 1777 at Galenburg, on the Gueldre, at the age of 95. He seems to have had (to use a common expression, though quite in place here) 'his soul riveted to his body.’ ‘All the Convicts,’ ho says, ‘are chained six to a bench; these benches are four feet apart, and covered with a bag stuffed with wool, on which is thrown a sheepskin. Tbepverseer, who is the master of the slaves, remains aft, near the captain, to receive his orders. There are two sub-overseers —one amidships, the other on the bow. Each of them is armed with a whip, which he exercises on the naked bodies of the crew. When the captain orders the boat off, the overseer gives a signal from a silver whistle which hangs from his neck. This is repeated by tlie two others, and at once the slaves strike the water. One would say tlie fifty oars are but one. Imagine six men chained to a bench, naked as they were born, one foot on tlie foot-rest, the other braced against the seat in front, holding in their hands an oar of enormous weight, stretching their bodies out, and extending their arms forward into the backs of those before them, who llave the same attitude. The oar thus advanced, they raise the end they hold in their hands, so that the other ends shall plunge into the sea. That done, they throw themselves back and fall on their seats, which bend on receiving them. Sometimes the slave rows ten, twelve, even twenty hours at a time, without the slightest relaxation. The overseer, or some one else, on such occasions puts into the mouth of the unfortunate rower a morsel of bread steeped with wine to prevent his fainting. If, by chance, one falls over (which often happens),he is beaten until he is given up for. dead, and then he is thrown overbord without ceremony.”

Old Women’s Whispers.

If on going out of tlio house you forget something you must under no circumstances turn back if you can possibly avoid it; if you do you must at -any rate • sit down a moment before going out again. If the first perse n yon meet is an old woman it is a sign of coming misfortune, while, on the contrary, a funeral procession denotes good fortune. ■ Pigs to your left bring good luck; to your right the opposite; to avert which* grasp something made of steel and the spell will be broken. If on setting out on a journey you meet a sow with pigs your enterprise will be sure to be successful. To meet two magpies portends marriage ; three, a successful journey; four, unexpected good news. To see one magpie and then more is unlucky ; to kill one of these birds is irretrievable misfortune. It is also unlucky to kill a swallow. If your left hand itches von will take in money; if the right, you will pay it out. A ringing in the right ear means that some one is speaking well of you; in the left, you may be sure that evil tougues are busy with you. If your right eve itches you will see some beautiful sight; if the left, you will have cause to shed tears. If your nose itches you will hear some news or—will fall into the mire.

Popular Names of Cities.

Baltimore —Monumental City. Boston—Modern Athens; Hub of the Universe. Brooklyn—City qfefifcnrehes. Chicago—Garden'Uity. Cincinnati—Queen City; Porkopolis; Paris of America. Cleveland —Forest City. Detroit—City of the Straits. Indianapolis —-Railroad City. Keokuk, la.—Gate City. Louisville —Falls City. . Lowell—City of Spindles. Milwaukee —Cream City (from tho color of its bricks). Fort Wayne—Summit City. Nashville— City of Rocks. New Haven—City of Elms.’ New Orleans—Crescent City. New York Gotham; Manhattan; Empire City. Philadelphia—Quaker City; City of Brotherlv Love. Pittsburgh—Smoky City; Iron City. Portland —Forest City. Rochester, N. Y.— Flour City; Flower Citv. St Louis—Mound City. San Francisco —’Frisco. , Washington City of MagnificentDistances. Some time back a lady and her little daughter were awaiting the commencement of the performance* at a certain of entertainment, when they were considerably startled by an old gentleman behind" them violently blowing his nose. Great was the amazement of those sitting near, on hearing the little girl exclaim, “Moo-cows mamma—moocows !”

THE NEXT SENATE.

Portraits and Biographical Sketches of Newly Elected United States Senators. Davis, of Minnesota; Cockrell, of Missouri; Daniel, of Virginia, and Others. „C.K, DAVIS, OF MINNESOTA. , Ex-Governor Onsbtitan K. Davi*. of St. Paul, has been chosen Senator from Minnesota, in the place of Hon. S. J. It. McMillan. He received h i almost unanimous support from the Kepio tfcan jitess before the meetin ' of the Legi-laizre, and at the first ballot in the caucus, on the withdrawal of Mr. McMillen, received 93 votes out of 94, tke nomination afterward being made unanimous. He is a man in the prime of life, about 50 years of age, a practicing lawyer of high repute in St. Paul, a good debater, and much respected by those with whom he is brought'into professional contact. He was popular as a Governor of the State, and has been devoted largely to the intellectual work of his preL ssion, having been engaged in many important suits.

Unlike several of the new Senators from the West, Governor Davis is not a rich man, although he has a large income from his law business. MAHOXE'S SUCCESSOR. The retirement of Mnlione on the 4th day of Match will bring to the United States Senate John YV. Daniel, who has for many years been prominent in Virginia politics. Mr. Daniel was bom in the Lynchburg district, the great tobacco-pro-ducing section of Virginia, in 1842. He is tall, sitnder, and handsome, with a high, broad forehead, surmounted by black, curly hair. He was a Boldier in the Confederate army, and is a trifle lame from a wound received at the battle of Gettysburg. One of his ancestors was a Justice of the United States Supreme Court during Van Boren’s administration, and another was a member of Congress from Virginia while Andrew Jackson was President. Mr. Daniel is said to be a very fine lawyer, and enjoys a large and lucrative practice. He is the author of several law books, which are regarded us excellent authorities by the legal profession.. He is married to a lady of

wealth and culture. Mr. Daniel delivered the address at the oereinonies attending the completion ©f the Washington monument. P. C. CHEXEY, OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. Ex-Governor Pei son C. Cheney, who has been elected United States Senator from New Hampshire, is a native of Ashland, N. H., having been bom in 1828. He was educated in the common schools of Peterborough, N. H., and Parsonfield, Me., Seminal y. At an early age he took charge of a paper-mill, and worked it so successfully that in eight years he was able to build a new arid more eX-

tensive one in company with two other gentlemen, but eventually became sole proprietor of it. He is also interested in large timber tracts near Washington and the Amoskeag Indurated Fiber Ware Company at Peterborough. Mr. Cheney has faithfully served his fellow citizens in many responsible public positions of trust. He represented Peterborough in the lower house of the Legislature in 1853; * he was Quartermaster of the Thirteenth Regiment, N. H. V., from 1862 until 1863, Railroad Commissioner from 1864 to 1867, at which time (’67) he took up his residence in Manchester. In 1871 he was elected Mayor of that city, declining a second term. In 1875 he was elected Governor of the State after a red-hot .Contest by the Legislature, and for a secoria term the followingyear bythe vote of the people. Senator Cheney is largely interested in the capital and moneyed institutions.of the

State, being President of the People’s ( Saving* Bank of Manchester; of the Amoskeag Fire Insurance Company; of the Manchester Electric Light Company; Vice President of the New Hampshire Insurance Company at Concord Manufactory; and a director in several other moneyed institutions. WILLIAM B. BATE, OF TENNESSEE. General William B. Bate, who has been choseu Senator by the Tennessee Legislature, was born in Sumner County, that

-State, sixty-four years ago. He took part in the Mexican war, enlisting in the service as -a private. He was promoted to a lieutenancy for bravery. May 5, 1861, he was elected Colonel of the Second Confederate Tennessee Regiment, which was mustered into service at Lynchburg, Va., soon afterward. Colonel Bate was severely wounded at Shiloh, and was at once promoted. He led the regiment in many desEerate engagements and received honorale mention for his skill as a commander. After the close of the war General Bate practiced law at Gallatin and acquired the reputation of being a first-class criminal lawyer. In 1882 he received the nomination for Governor and was elected. He was re-elected in 1884 by a reduced majority, due to his support of the candidates for Railroad Commissioners, who were defeated. He was twice beaten for United States Senator—first by Andrew Johnson in 1875, and, in 1881 by Howell E. Jackson. He is for free trade, and strongly opposed to the Blair educational bill. F. M. COCKRELL, OF MISSOURI. Francis Marion Cockrell, recently elected United States Senator from Missouri fojt

the third time, was born in Johnson County, that State, October 1, 1834. He was ambitious to become a professional man, and, after due preparation, entered Chapel Hill College, Missouri, as a student. After his graduation in July. 1853, he read law and was admit ted to the bar. He began practice at Warreneburg, Mo., and pursued it with success and undivided attention until 1861, when he entered the Confederate army. Before the end of the war he attained the rank of Brigadier General. His first civil office was that he now holds, to which he was elected as successor to Carl Schurz, in 1874. He was re-elected in 1880, and again in 1887. , W. C. WHITTHORNE, OF TENNESSEE. Washington Gnrran Whittbome, who has lately been chosen Senator by the Tennessee Legislature, was bom in Marshall County, Tennessee, in the year 1825. He was carefully educated, and a graduate of East Tennessee - University. Having determined to follow the legal profession, Mr. Whitthorne became a student of law under James K. Polk, of whose office he was an inmate when that statesman was elected to the Presidency. Shortly after his admission to the bar he began to interest himself in State polities. He was a member of the Legislature of Tennessee for six years prior to the war, and once—lßs9-60 Speaker of the Assembly. Mr. Whitthorne was on the Breckenridge electoral ticket in 1860. Upon the breaking out of the war he became Assistant Adjutant General, serving in Western Virginia. Governor Isbam G. Harris, of Tenpessee, made him Adjutant General of. the State in 1861, an office which he held until the close of the war. He then opened a law office at Columbia, Tenn.. where he soon built up a large pracbce. His political disabilities were removed in 1870, and in the following year he was** elected to the House of Representatives. He servedhis district durirg six Congresses, until the close of the Forty-seventh. His work as a member of the Committee on Naval Affairs, of which, he was Chairman six years, made a marked impression on publio opinion. J C.OHN H. REAGAN, OF TEXAS. Hon. John H. Reagan, who has been chosen as the successor of S. B. Maxey in the Senate from Texas, was bom in Sevier Couniy, Tenn., October 8, 1818. He received a limited collegiate education, studied law, nnd settled in the Republic of Texas in 1839, where he became both farmer and lawyer. He was Deputy Surveyor of the Public Lands from 1839 to 1843, and was elected to the Legislature in 1847. Five years after he was made Judge of the District Court, resigning in 1856, when he was re-elected for another tenn, In 1857 he was elected Representative to Congress, and, re-elected., in 1859. In 1861 he was a member of tha Texas Secession Convention, and was a Representative of that State in the Confederate Congress. He was at thecloseof the war Postmaster General of the Confederate Government, In 1875 he was a member of the Texas Constitutional Convention. and was elected successively to the Forty-fourth, Forty-fifth, Forty-sixfh, Forty-seventh, Forty-eighth, Forty-ninth, and Fiftieth Congresses. Ohio is called the Buckeye State buckeyes a tree of that name flourishes there.