Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 96, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 August 1902 — Page 2

A SISTER'S VENGEANCE

CHAPTER I. “Then you’re a villain!" “Nonsense, Mary; be reasonable.” “Reasonable, Captain Armstrong? I am reasonable, and I am telling you the truth. You are a villain!” “Why, you foolish girl, what did you expect?” .... “That you would be an officer and a gtmtieman. Once more, is it true that you are going to be married to that lady?” “Well, you see ” “Answer me, sir.” “Oh, well, then, I suppose I am." “Then I repeat it, James Armstrong, you are a villain!” “What nonsense, you fierce-looking. handsome termagant! We have had our little pleasant chats, and now we’ll say good-by pleasantly. I can’t help it, I have to marry; so you go and do the same, my dear, and I’ll buy you a handsome wedding dress.” “You cowardly, cold-blooded villain!” “Come, come, my good girl; no more strong words, please. Why, what did you expect?” “That you were wooing me to be your wife." “A captain in the king's navy marry the daughter of an old wrecker, the sister of as utter a smuggling scoundrel as «c*n be found' about this port to Dartmouth!” “When a girl gives her heart to,the man who comes to her all soft words and smiles, do you think she remembers what he is? It is enough for her that she loves him, apd she believes all he says. Oh, James, dear James! forgive me for all I’ve said.” “There, that’s enough. You knew as well as I did that there was nothing serious meant, so now let’s bring this meetto an end.” “To an end?” “Yes; you had no business to come here. But, as you have come, there are five guineas, Mary, to buy finery; and let’s ■hake hands and say good-by.” Captain Armstrong, a handsome man with a rather cruel-looking, thin-lipped mouth, took five golden pieces from his great, flapped, salt-box-pocketed waistcoat, gave the flowing curls of his wig a ■hake, and held out the money to the dark, black-eyed woman standing before him with her sun-browned cheeks slightly flushed, her full, red lips quivering, and a look of fierce passion distorting her handsome gypsy- countenance. As he spoke he dropped the golden coins one by one into the woman's hand, ■miled, glanced quickly at a door behind him, and caught her in his arms. “There, one more kiss from those ripe, red lips, and then ” As sharp a back-handed blow across the face as ever man received from an angry woman, and then, as the recipient involuntarily started back, Mary Dell flung the golden pieces at him, so that one ■truck him in the chest and the others flew tinkling across the room. “Curse you!” cried the captain, in a low, savage voice, “this is too much. Leave this house, and if you ever dare to come here again ” “Dare!” cried the woman, as fiercely. “I dare anything. I’ve not been a sailor’s child for nothing. And so you think that • woman’s love is to be bought and sold for a few paltry guineas. Look here, James Armstrong. I wouldn’t marry you aow if you prayed me to be your wife—wife to such a cruel, mean coward! I .would sooner leap overboard some night and die in the deepest part of the barker."

"Leave this house, you vixen.” "Not at your bidding, captain,” cried the girl, scornfully. “Captain! Why, the commonest sailor in the king’s ships would shame to behave to a woman as you have behaved to me. But I warn you,” she continued, as in her excitement her luxuriant, glossy hair escaped from tts comb and fell rippling down in masses •—"I warn you, that if you gp to church ■with that lady, I’ll never forgive you, but have such a revenge as shall make you sue the day that you were born.” “Silence, woman; I’ve borne enough! (Leave this house!” “When I have told you all I think and feel, James Armstrong.” “Leave ,my house!” cried the captain tor the third time, furiously; and, glancing through the window as he spoke, he changed color at the sight of a graypaired gentleman approaching with a .tall, graceful woman upon his arm. “Ah!” cried Mary Dell, as she read his excitement aright; “so that Is the woman! Then I’ll stop and meet her face to face, and tell her what a contemptible creature she is going to wed.” “Curse you, leave this house!” cried the captain, in a savage whisper; and, catching his visitor roughly by the shoulder, he tried to pull her toward the door; but the girl resisted, and in the struggle a chair was overturned with a crash, the door was flung open, and a bluff, manly (Voice exclaimed: “Why, halloo; what's the matter now?” “What’s that to you?” cried the captain, angrily, as he desisted from his efforts, and the girl stood disheveled and panting. her eyes flashing vindictively, and a look of gratified malice crossing her face, as she saw the confusion and annoyance displayed by her ex-lover. “What is it to me? Why, I thought there was trouble on, and I came to help.” ! “To intrude where you were not wanted, you mean. Now, go,” snarled the captain. “No, don't go,” cried the girl, spitefully. “I want you to protect me, sir, from this ■san, thia gentleman, who professed to love me, and who. now that he is going to be married, treats me as you see.” ~ “It's a IU, woman!” cried the captain, who noted that the couple whose coming bad made him lower his voice had now passed after looking up at the window, and who now turned again fiercely upon the woman. “No, it isn’t a lie, Jem,” said the newcomer. "I’ve seen yon on the beach with bar many a time, and thought what a blackguard you were.” “Lieut. Armstrong, I am your superior Officer,” cried the captain. "How dare K speak to me like that! Sir, you go arrest for this speech.” “I was not addressing my superior offipor.” said the newcomer, flushing aligbt-

By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN

ly, “but my cousin Jem. Put me in arrest, will you? Very well, my fine fellow; you’re captain, I’m lieutenant, and I must obey; but if you do, next time we’re ashore I’ll thrash you within an inch Of your life as sure as my name’s Humphrey. Hang it, I’ll do it now.” He took a quick step forward; but the captain darted behind the table, and Mary caught the young man’s arm. “No, no, sir,” she said in a deep voice; “don’t get yourself into trouble for me. It’s very true and gallant of you, sir, to take the part of a poor girl, but I can fight my own battle against such a coward as that. Look at him, with his pale face and white lips, and tell me how I could ever have loved such a creature." “Woman—” “Yes, woman now,” cried the girl. "A month ago no word was too sweet and tender for me. There, I'm going, James Armstrong, and I wish you joy of your rich wife —the pale, thin creature I saw go by; don’t think you are done with me, or that this is to be forgotten. As for you, sir,” she continued, holding out her hand, which her defender took, and smiled down frankly in the handsome, dark face before him, “I shan’t forget this.” “No,” said Captain Armstrong, with a sneer. “Lose one lover, pick up another." Mary Dell did not loose the hand she had seized, but darted a bitterly contemptuous look upon her late lover, which made him grind his teeth as she turned from him again to the lieutenant. “Was I not right, sir, to say he is a coward? I am only a poor-class girl, but I am a woman, and I can feel. Thank you, sir; good-by, anfi if we ever meet aghin, think that I shall always be grateful for what you have said.” At that minute there were voices heard without, and the captain started and looked nervously at the door._ “I’m going, James Armstrong,” said the girl, “and I might go like this; but for my own sake, not yours, I’ll not.” She gave her head a sidewise jerk which brought her magnificent black hair over her left shoulder, and then with a few rapid turns of her hands she twisted it into a coil and secured it at the back of her head. Then turning to go, Humphrey took a step after her; but she looked at him with a sharp, suspicious gaze. "He told you to see me off the place?” she said, quickly. “No,” cried Humphrey; “it was my ov*n idea.” “Let me go alone,” said the girl. *'l want to think there is some one belonging to him who is not base. Good-by, sir! Perhaps we may meet again.” “Meet again!” snarled the captain, as the girl passed through the doorway. “Yes, I’ll warrant me you will, and console yourself with your new lover.” “Look here, Jem,” cried the lieutenant, hotly; “officer or no officer, recollect that we’re alone now, and that you are insulting me as well as that poor girl. Now, then, you say another word like that, and hang me if I don’t nearly break your neck.” “You insolent—: Captain Armstrong did not finish his sentence, for there was a something in the frank, handsome, manly face of his cousin that meant mischief, and he threw himself into a chair with an angry snarl, such as might be given by a dog who wanted to attack, but did not dare.

GHAPTER 11. “What’s she a-doing of now?” “Blubbering.” “Why, that’s what you said yesterday. She ar’n’t been a-blubbering ever since?” “Yes, she have, Bart; and the day afore, and the day afore that. She’s done nothing else.” “I hates to see a woman cry,” said the first speaker, as he seated himself on the edge of a three-legged table in the lowceiled cottage of old Dell, the smuggler —a roughly built place at the head of one of the lonely coves on the South Devon coast. The place was rough, for it had been built at different times of wreckwood which had come ashore; but the dwelling was picturesque outside, and quaint, nautical, and deliciously clean within, where Abel Dell, Mary’s twin brother, a short, dark young fellow, singularly like his sister, sat upon an old sea chest fashioning a netting needle with a big clasp knife, and his brow was also covered with the lines of trouble. He was a good-looking, sun-browned little fellow; and as he sat there in his big fisher boots, thrust down nearly to the ankle, and a scarlet worsted cap upon his black, crisp curls, his canvas petticoat and blue shirt made him a' study of which a modern artist would have been glad; but in the early days of King George the First gentlemen of the palette and brush did not turn the inhabitants into models, so Abel Dell had not been transferred to canvas, and went on carving his hard-wood needle without looking up at the man called Bart. There was not much lost, for Bartholomew Wrigley, at the age of 30—wrecker, smuggler, fisherman, sea-dog, anything by turn—was about as ugly an athletic specimen of' humanity as ever stepped. Nature and his ancestors had been very unkind to him in the way of features, and accidents by flood and tight had marred what required no disfigurement, a fall of a spar having knocked his nose sidewise and broken the fridge, while a chop from a sword in a smuggling affray had given him a divided upper lip. In addition he always wore the appearance es being ashamed of his height, and went about with a slouch that was by no means an attraction to the fisher girls of the place. “Ay! If the old man had been alive —” “ ’Stead o’ drowned off Plymouth Hoo,” growled Bart. “In the big storm,” continued Abel. "Polly would have had to swab them eyes of hern.” “Ayl And if the old man had been alive, that snapper-dandy captain, with his boots and swkord, would have had to sheer off, Abel, lad.” ** ’Stead o’ coming jerry-sneaking about her when he was at sea, eh, Bart?” “Them’s true words,” growled the big, ugly fellow. There was a pause, during which Abel carved away-diligently, and Btfrt watch

ed him Intently, with his hands deep in his pockets. “It’s all off, ar’n’t it, mate?" said Bart, at last. “Ay, it’s all off,” said Abel; and there was another pause. “Think there’d be any chance for a man now ? S’pose not,” with a sigh. “You see, I’m such a hugly one, Abel, lad.” “You are, Bart. There’s no denying it, mate; you are.” \ “Ay! A reg’lar right-down hugly one. But I thought as p’r’haps as her heart were soft and sore, she might feel a little tort a man whose heart also was very soft and sore.” “Try her, then, mate. I’ll go and tell her you're here.” “Nay, nay, don’t do that, man," whispered the big fellow, hoarsely. “I durstent ask her again. It’ll have to come from her this time.” “Not it. Ask her, Bart. She likes you." “Ay, she likes me, bless her, and she’s alius got a kind word for a fellow as wishes a’most as he was her dog.” '“What’s the good o’ that, lad? Better be her man.”

“Ay, of course; but if you can’t be her man, why not be her dog? She would pat your head your ears; but I alius feels as if she’d never pat my head or pull my ears, Abel, lad; you see, I’m such a hugly one. Blubbering, eh?” “Does nothing else. She don’t let me see it; but I know. She don’t sleep of a night, and she looks wild and queer, as Sanderson’s lass did who drowned herself. I wish I had hold of him. I’d like to break his neck.” Bart put on his cap quickly, glanced toward the inner room, where there was a sound as of someone singing mournfully, and then in a quick, low whisper: “Why not, lad?” said he; “why not?” “Break his neck, Bart?” The big fellow nodded. “Will you join in and risk it?” “Won’t I?” “Then we will,” said Abel. “Curse him, he’s most broke her heart.” . “ ’Cause she loves him,” growled Bart, thoughtfully. “Yes, a silly, soft thing. She might have known.”

“Then we mustn’t break his neck, Abel, Tad,” said Bart, shaking his head. Then, as if a bright thought had suddenly flashed across his brain: “Look here. We’ll wait for him, and then—l ar’n’t afeard of his sword—we’ll make him marry her.” “You don’t want him to marry her,” said Abel, staring, and utilizing the time by strapping his knife on his boot. • “Nay, I don’t; but she do, poor lass,” said Bart, with a sigh, “and if I can do what she wants, I will as long as I live.” “Ah! you always was fond of her, Bart,” said Abel, slowly. “Ay, I always was, and always shall be, my lad. But look here,” whispered Bart, leaning toward his companion, “if he says he won't marry her, and goes and marrids' that fine madame—will you do it?” “I'll do anything you’ll do, mate,” said • Abel, in a low voice. “Then we’ll make him, my lad.” “Hist!” whispers Abel, as the inner door opened, and Mary entered the room, looking haggard and wild, to gaze sharply from one to the other, as if she suspected that they had been making her the subject pf their conversation. “How do, Mary?” said Bart, in a consciously awkward fashion. “Ah, Bart!” she said, coldly, as she gazed full in his eyes till he dropped his own and moved toward the door. “I'm just going to take a look at my boat, Abel, lad,” he said; — '“6oming down the shore?”

Abel nodded, and Bart shuffled out of the doorway, uttering a sigh of relief as toon as he was in the open air, and taking off his flat fur cap, he wiped the drops of perspiration from his brow. “She’s too much for me, somehow,” he muttered, as he sauntered down toward the shore. “I alius thought as being in love with a gell would be very nice, but it ar’n’t. She’s too much for me.” “What were you and Bart Wrigley talking about?” said Mary Dell, as soon as she was alone with her brother. “You,” said Abel, going on scraping his netting needle. “What about me?” “All sorts o' things.” “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Why, you know. About your being a fool—about the fine captain and his new sweetheart. Why, you might ha’ knowed, Mary.” “Look here, Abel,” cried Mary, catching him by the wrist, and dragging at it so that he started to his feet, and they stood face to face, the stunted brother and the well-grown girl wonderfully equal in size, and extremely alike in physique and air, “if you dare to talk to me again like that, we shall quarrel.” “Well, let’s quarrel, then.” “What!” cried Mary, starting, for this was a new phase in her brother’s character. “I say, let’s quarrel, then,” cried Abel, folding his arms. “Do you think I’ve beep blind? Why, it has nearly broken poor old Bart’s heart.” “Abel!” “I don’t care, Polly, I will speak now. You don’t like Bart.” “I do. He is a good, true fellow as ever stepped, but ” “Yes, I know. It aren’t nat’ral for you to like him as he likes you; but you’ve been a fool, Polly, to listen to that fine jack-a-dandy, and—curse him; I’ll hhlf kill him next time we meet!” Mary tried to speak, but her emotion choked her. “You—you don’t know what you are swing,” she panted at last. “Perhaps not,” he said, in a low, muttering way; I know what I’m going to do.” “Do!” she cried, recovering herself, and making an effort to regain her old ascendency over her brother. “I forbid you to do anything. You shall not interfere.” N, “Very well,” said the young man, with a smile; and as his sister gained strength he seemed to be subdued. “Nothing, I say. Any quarrel I may have with Captain Armstrong is my affair, and I can fight my own battle. Do you hear?” “Yea, I hear,” said Abel,- going toward the door. "You understand? I forbid it. You shall not even speak to him.” “Yes, I understand,” said Abel, tucking the netting needle into his pocket, and thrusting his knife into its sheath; and then, before Mary could call np sufficient energy to speak again, the young man passed out of the-cottage and hurried after Bart Mary went to ths little casement and

stood gazing after him thoughtfully for a few minutes. Then turning and taking the seat her brother had vacated, a desolate look of misery came over her handsome face, which dropped slowly into her hands, and she sat there weeping silently as she thought of the wedding that was to take place the next day. (To be continued.)

DANGER IN FLOWERS.

Tulips and Poppies Aatong Those to Be Avoided. Beware how you handle lovely flowers, or inhale their aroma. Queer Dame Nature has provided a hidden sting in some of the blossoms that bloom in the spring. There is a particular variety of garden flower known as obconcla. If the finger of the gardener is pricked by the plant there is sure to follow a slight itching of the hands that is a preliminary to the breaking out of an almost incurable skin disease. The Irritation of the cuticle generally dies away in the fall and apparently has been got rid of by winter. But In the spring It invariably shows Itself again and, In some cases, It has resisted every effort to eliminate It from the system. Because of the risk in touching the plant, the gardener who knows his business Invariably handles It with gloves on. Tulips are another flower In which there is a hidden danger. If the odor of the tulip Is inhaled for a time It produces lightheadedness, which is followed by a feeling df deep depression. The poppy, on account of the great quantity of opium it contains, has the effect of making any one who passes through a field of these flowers feel very drowsy. In Asia Minor, where they are grown in great quantities, it is risky for one unaccustomed to the odor to pass through the neighborhood. x Two deaths among tourists were traced directly to visits paid to a poppy plantation. All flowers grown from bulbs should be banished from the rooms of a sick or invalid person. It would be as much an act of kindness to present a Bick person with a dose of morphine as to send a patient a bunch of lilies of the valley, tuberoses or hyacinths. The only place for these flowers is the death chamber. Be careful, too, how you pluck to pieces such blossoms as begonias, rhododendrons or peonies. If there Is a slight scratch on the fingers that handle these flowers carelessly, it is probable that festering will follow, with a possible loss of the finger nails.

How Savages Make Fire.

It is rather difficult for us to imagine people who know nothing about fire, and, as a matter of fact, there are no people now on the face of the earth, no matter how barbarous, who do not know how to make fire. We make it easily enough by striking a match, but years ago our ancestors were compelled to resort to flint, steel and tinder. The forest-dwelling peoples of the further East have an odd instrument for making fire. Near the coast every man carries a bit of crockery in the box of bamboo slung at his waist, a chip off a plate end a handful of dry fungus. Holding the tinder under ills thumb upon the fragment of earthenware, he strikes the side of the box sharply, ajid the tinder takes fire. But this method can only be used by tribes which have such communication with the foreigner as supplies them with European goods. The inland people use a more singular process. They carry a short cylinder of lead, hollowed roughly to a cup-like form at one end, which fits a joint of bamboo. Placing this cylinder in the palm of the left hand, they fill the cup with tinder adjust the bamboo over it, strike sharply, remove the covering as quickly and the tinder is alight

Thanks to the Pup.

Smart Young Man—Good morning, Mr. Bullion. Mr. Bullion (irascible old gent—Um—ah!—good morn—remarkable dog you have with you. “Ya-as; Siberian bloodhound. Terribly savage; takes this ox chain to hold him. If any one should look cross at me this dog would tear him to pieces. Yes, indeed! I’m going to have him killed. Too dangerous, you know.” “I should say so!” “Ya-as; must do it In the Interest of humanity, you know. By the way, Mr. Bullion, your daughter has accepted me, and I haye called to ask your consent” He got it—London Answers.

Bulgarian Peasants.

if be happens to be pure bred from the original Samoyede stock, the peasant is a heavily built fellow with a Kalmuk nose. His language has become Slavic, which mefins a language in which “beefsteak” is “mpiphtekik” and “omelet souffle” Is “omlet cuphle.” The Bulgarian is a peasant or a soldier; he knows no other trade. As a farmer the sheep are all in all to him, food and clothing and companionship. He Ilves in a hovel, does not understand why he should be taxed, and makes his women slave in the field. He is called closefisted, churlish and suspicious, but has some of the virtues that often go with those qualities.

Irresponsible.

“Who is the responsible man In this firm?** asked the brusque visitor. “I don’t know who the responsible party la.” answered the sad, cynical office boy, “but I am the one who is always to blame.” It keepe many a poor wife busy keeping her husband indoors, and It keeps many a poor man busy keeping his wife in bonnets. It Is far easier to keep the ordinary wolf from the door than it is to keep the “gray wolf’ out of office.

BLOW TO STRIKERS.

•JUDGE JACKSON FINDS GUILTY OF CONTEMPT. Organizers of the Mine Workers Sentenced to Jail for Violating Injunction—Strike Leaders Denounced as “Professional Agitator*.” After excoriating “Mother” Jones, the “good angel” of the striking miners, and bitterly denouncing labor agitators. Judge Jackson of the United States District Court at Parkersburg, W. Va., sentenced organizers of the United Mine Workers’ Association to jail for contempt of his Injunction of June 19, as follows: Thomas Haggerty, ninety days in jail; William Morgan, Bernard Bice, Peter Wilson, William Blakely, George Bacon, Thomas Uaskavish, sixty days each. The courtroom was filled with an intensely excited crowd of miners and officials of labor unions. Judge Jackson’s huge frame shook with emotion as he dramatically emphasized portions of his decision. The Judge’s decision was prefaced by the bitterest attack ever made on union methods. It goes even further than Judge Jenkins’ famous order, or the decision of Judge Kohlsaat forbidding pickets speaking to workmen. The miners agree that this is the most effective blow that could be struck against the men’s cause in their attempt to get out the 12,000 miners in the Fairmont coal field.

“In my long experience on the bench,” said Judge Jackson, “I cannot recall a single occasion where any court, either Federal or State, ever abused the writ of injunction in what is known aS* strike cases.” The court then went on to charge “Mother” Jones and the others were in a conspiracy to get the miners to quit work. He said: “Where a conspiracy exists to control the employes, as in this case, either by threats, intimidation, or a resort any other mode usually accompanying the action of strikers, such action on their part is not only illegal, but a malicious and illegal interference with the employers’ business. These defendants,” he continued, “are known as professional agitators, organizers, and walking delegates. They have nothing in common with the people who are employed in the mines of the Clarksburg Fuel Company. Their mission is to foment trouble. The strong arm of the court is invoked, not to suppress free speech, but to restrain these defendants, whose only purpose is to bring about strikes by trying to coerce people who are not dissatisfied with the terms of their employment.” Judge Jackson said the utterances of “Mother” Jones in her address near the Pinnickinniek mines June 20 should not emanate from a citizen of this country. “Such utterances,” he remarked, “are the outgrowth of the sentiments of those who believe in communism and anarchy.” It was the abuse of free speech, according to the jurist, that inspired the anarchists and assassin to take the life of our late President. The Judge then reviewed the speech of “Mother” Jones, in which she is reported to have called the miners slaves and cowards; said she did not care anything for injunctions—that if arrested the jails would not hold the agitators who came to take their places, and advised the men to strike, winding up by calling the Judge ■ hireling of the coal company. "It fe true,” said the court, “■‘Mother’ Jones denies some of these statements, but her denial is equivocal.” For being present, taking an active part and applauding the speaker, the seven defendants were held to be also guilty of contempt. The court took a rap at modern women in criticising the principal defendant. “It seems to me,” he said, “that it would have been far better for her to follow the lines and paths which the All Wise Being intended her sex should pursue. There are many charities in life which are open to her, in which she could contribute largely to mankind in distress, as well as a vocation and pursuit that she could engage in of a lawful character, that would be more in keeping with what we have been taught, and what experience has shown to be the true sphere of womanhood.”

Judge Jackson suspended judgment in the case of “Mother” Jones. He stated that she had been found guilty of contempt, “but as she is posing as a martyr, I will not send her to jail or allow her to force her way into jail.” He said he would hold conviction over her, and if she again violated the injunction he would sentence her heavily. Mitchell Would Appeal. President John Mitchell, when shown the decision of Judge Jackson, said it was the most outrageous he had yet heard of. He declared that an appeal would at once be taken to the United States Supreme Court, and that an appeal would immediately be made to President Roosevelt to interfere before the decision of Judge Jackson could be enforced. “Such a decision breeds anarchy,” said Mitchell, “as It causes the masses to lose all confidence in the courts or even the constitution of the United States. If the courts* can set aside the constitution and deprive citizens of the rights to which they are entitled under it, how can they expect citizens to respect them?”

Telegraphic Brevities.

President Loubet has signed the bill approving the Brussels sugar convention. Cholera is spreading somewhat in the Philippine Islands. The ration for Manila is maintained. In a letter to an Aldermtfh, Mayor Low has described the New York method of disposing of refuse as “a relic of barbarism.” He takes the stand that this material should be burned and that the heat so generated should be made a-source of income. The Frankfurter Zeitung of Berlin prints a special dispatch from Pekin which says that an Imperial decree hag been issued giving the American China Development Company authority to issue $40,000,000 in bonds to complete the railroad from Hankow to Canton. Sir Norman Lockyer, the specialist on solar astronomy, says the recent West Indian volcano outburst is connected with sun spot activity. He says further that the moot disastrous volcanic eruptions and earthquake# generally occur around the dates of the sun spot maximum and mfrdmrnw _

INDIANA INCIDENTS.

RECORD OF EVENTS OF THE PAST WEEK. Fairmount Man Finds Death in Headache Medicine—Aged Woman Recovera from Trance—Queer Freak* of Lightqjng—State News ln Brief. Joseph Hane, a young butcher of Fairmount, was found dead in his shop. He had been suffering with headache, but little was thought of it when he left his home. Coroner J. 8. Whitson held ■ post-mortem examination. His verdict was that Hane came to his death as the result of taking too much patent medicine for headache, which acted as a heart depressant. Accident in Blacksmith Shop. At Liberty, Frank Fosdick, in repairing an old machine, placed the cylinder In his forge fire and put Fred Sehweikert at work pumping the bellows. In a few moments an explosion took place that shook the town and was heard a mile or more away, sounding like a clap of thunder, The cylinder burst and came near killing Fosdick and the boy, both being slightly grazed by flying pieces of iron. A five-pound piece of the cylinder passed through a room above and tore a hole in the roof. The windows were shattered and the forge wrecked. It is supposed that the explosion was caused by gas generated by the heat from oil put on the machinery while in use, a part of which had accumulated in pie cyinder. Delivers Mail from Auto. The Postmaster General has issued a special credit authority to Oscar Working, mail carrier on rural route No. 2 from Hagerstown, to use an automobile in making his daily delivery of mail. According to the official document Mr. Working is the only rural route agent in the country, who regularly uses an automobile in his work. Last November the rural delivery was established and Oscar Werking was given a route thirty-two miles long. A few Weeks ago he determined to invest in an automobile. The experiment has proved successful and apparently the use of the machine is a more economical method than the former one of delivering mail over country roads. *

Hears Her Death Mourned. \ Mrs. Polly Austin, who fell into a trance at La Porte, Monday night, and who was believed to be dead afterward, recovered consciousness and declared that she felt in better health than before her seizure. Mrs. Austin asserts that she was fully conscious all the time and that she was able to hear the grief of her relatives, although she was not able to move a muscle to show them that she was not dead. Mrs. Austin is 89 years of age and for this reason her recovery is attracting much attention from the physicians of Northern Indiana. Woman Burned to Death. Miss Nellie Grant, aged 25 years, was burned to death at the home of her grandmother, Mrs. Virginia Bullit, at Lawrenceport. She went to the barn to get eggs, and in a few minutes she ran screaming to the house, her clothing ablaze and the barn also on fire. She was so badly burned that death ensued in a short time. Miss Grant was the daughter of a prominent and wealthy lawyer in New Orleans, and was visiting her grafidffibtfiSF. ; Dragged in Runaway. Mrs. Rachel Williams and Miss Nota Wyble, of Stinesville, were riding down a steep hill, when the horse became frightened. Both women jumped. Mrs. Williams was caught in the wheel and dragged, being badly cut and injured. She will likely die. Miss Wyble was seriously injured, but will recover. Mrs. Williams’ husband was killed a few years ago in an explosion and her brother was killed later by lightning. * I Youth Leads Thieves' Band. Peter Sabaski, aged 18 years, .was brought before Judge Richter at La Porte* and given an indeterminate sentence to the Jeffersonville reformatory for larceny. Sabaski was the leader of a band of youthful criminals ranging in age from 14 to 18 years who have been looting houses of farmers for a number of months. Freak of Lightning. x During a storm Tuesday night lightning struck the wagon shed of Oscar Lackay, a farmer of Bellsville, doing considerable damage. A peculiar freak was that the-lightning, when it struck a •wagon in the shed, took a wheel off and the wagon was wheeled entirely out of the shed. x Wreckage Piled High. At Greencastle, the third section of eastbound freight. No. 96 on the Big Four Railroad struck four coal cars that had run out from a siding on the main track near Lena. The engine was overturned and W. F. Killifer, the engineman, was killed. The wreckage was piled high. Fast Mail in Wreck. Fast mail No. 11, on the Pennsylvania Railroad, from New York to St. Ixrnis, crashed into an Indianapolis and "Vincennes freight in the yards at Indianapolis, injuring three persons and demolishing a half-dozen cars on the freight. The freight was crossing the main line. Drawn Into Flywheel. Clarence Ketriug, of Spartansburg, tried to remove the belt of a traction engine, and was drawn into the swiftly revolving flywheel. His skull was crushed and he was otherwise mangled, causing instant death. Many Hurt in Panic at Circus. At the opening of Robinson’s show at Madison the great tent was blown dowr<> and in the panic many persons were injured, breaking up the performance. Brief State II a p pen I nga. Granville Ellison, Daleville, bequeathed five acres to the town for a park, and $3,000 for a public library. Harley Birkinbine, 9 years old, living three miles south of Frankton, was instantly killed while riding a horse in a pasture field. He fell off, his head striking a stone. " Mrs. May Mlnich, Indianapolis, was taken to the central insane hospital. She is insane on the subject of an estate of $300,000,000, which she claims is due her la Chicago.