Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 22, Number 34, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 February 1892 — Page 2

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The story of "The Vendetta was began Sept. 5. Back numbers can Be bad at he Mall office, or they will be sent to any addrees at, 2% cents each.

CHAPTER XXX.

D'Avencourt looked puzzled but he was a punctilious man, and know how to stcor clear of a delicate subject. IIo amtlod. "A la bonne heure," he said—"I wish you Joy with all my heartl A mlnult, tous los chats sont grls! You aro tho boat Judge of your own happiness as for me—vivo la liberte!"

And with a gay parting 9alutoho left mo. No one elso In tho city appearod to share his foreboding scruples, if ho had any, abont my forthcoming marriage. It was everywhere talked of with as much interest and expectation as though St wero sotno new amusement invented •to heighten tho morrlment of Carnival. Among other things, I earned itho reputation of being a most impatient Hover, for now I would consent to no delays. I hurried all tho preparations on with foverlsh precipitation. I had very little difficulty In pemiading Nina that tho sooner our wedding took place the better sho was to tho full as oager as myself, as ready to rush on to her own destruction as Gutdo had boon. Her ohiof passion was avarice, and the repeated rumours of my supposed fabulous wealth had aroused her gyeed from the very moment she had first mot me In ray assumed character of tho Count Oliva» As soon as her engagement to mo became known In Naples, sho was an obJeet of enTy to all those of her own sex who, during the previous autumn, had laid out *helr store of fascinations to entrap mo ki vain—and this made her perfectly happy. Perhaps the gupremest satisfaction a woman of this sort can attain to is the fact of making her less fortunate sisters discontented and miserable! I loaded ker of course with tho costliest gifts, and she, being the solo mistress of the fortuno loft her by her "late husband," as well as of tho unfortunate Guide's money, set no limits to her extravagance. She ordered tho most exjjenslve and elaborate costumes she was engaged morning after morning with dressmakers, tailors and milliners, and she was surrounded by a certain ••set" of female friends, for whose benefit she displayed the incoming treasures of her wardrobe till they were ready to «ry for spite and vexation, theugh they had to stnlle and hold in their wrath and outraged vanity beneath the social mask of complacent composure*. And Nina loved nothing better than to torment the poor women who were stinted of pocket money with the sight of shimmering satins, soft radiant plushes, rich velvets, embroidery studded with 'real gems, pieces of costly old lac®, priceless scents and articles of bijouterie she loved also to daxzlo the eyes and bewilder the brains of yonng girls, whoso finest toilette was a srarb of simplest white stuff unadorned save by a cluster of natural blossoms, and to send them away sick at heart, pining for the? knew not what, dissatisfied with everything, and grumbling at fate for not permitting them to deck themselves In such marvellous "arrangements" of costume

THE STOKV'Of ONE rORC5TTE*I 355 sSvvt

OOKING back on the incidents \of those strange feverish weeks that preceded

4my

wedding day

they seem to me liko the dreams of a dying man.

Shifting colours, confused images, moments of clear light, hours of long darkness—all things gross, refined, material and spiritual were shaken up in my life like the fragments In a kaleidoscope, ever changing into new form and bewildering patterns. My brain was clear yet I often questioned myself whether I was not going mad—whether all the careful methodical plans I formed wore but the hazy fancies of a hopelessly disordered mind. Yet, no each detail of my schemo was too complete, too consistent, too business-like for that. A madman may have a method of action to a certain extent, but there is always some sligirtslip, some omission, some mistake which helps to discover his condition. Now I forgot nothing—I had the composed exactitude of a careful banker who balances his accounts with tho most olaborate regularity. I can laugh to«thftik of fctall now but then,— then I moved, spoko and acted liko a human mnchlno impelled by stronger forces than my own—in all things pre* dsn, in all things indexible.

Within tho week of my return from Avellino my com ins marriage with tho Countess Romani was announced. Two days after it had been made public, whilo sauntering across tho Largo dol Castollo, I met tho Marquis D'Avencourt. I had not seen him since tho mornliig of the duel, and his presenco gave mo a sort of nervous shock. lie was exceedingly cordial, though I fancied ho was also slightly embarrassed. After a few commonplaco remarks I10 said abruptly: "So your marriago will positively take place?"

I forced a laugh. "Ma cortamonte! Do you doubt it?" Ills handsome faco clodded and his maiuier grew still more constrained. "No but I thought—I had hoped—" "Mon cher." I said airly, "I perfectly understand to what you allude. But we men of tho world aro not fastidious,— we know better than to pay any heed to foolish love-fanclos of a woman beforo hor marriage, so long as she docs not trick us afterwards. Tho letters you sent mo wero trifles, mere trltlos. In wedding tho Contossa Roman! I assure you I bolive I socuro the most virtuous as well as tho most lovely woman in Europo." And I laughed again heartily.

as those possessed oy tne hap the lortunate future Countess Oliva. Por maidens'! had they b.it known all they would not have onvieu nor! Women are too fond of measuring happiness by the amount of line clothes they obtain, and I truly believe dress is the one thing that nevef fails to console them. How often a fit of hysterics can be cut short by the opportune arrival of a new gown!

My wife, in consideration of her approaching second nuptials, had thrown off her widow's crape, and now appeared clad in those soft subdued half-tints of colour that suited her fragile, fairy-like beauty to perfection. All her bid witcheries and her graceful tricks of manner and speech woro put forth again for my benefit I knew them all so well! I understood the value of her light caresses and languishing looks so thoroughly! She was vo.ry anxious to attain tho full digdlty of her position as the wife of so rich a nobleman as I was reputed to be. therefore she raised no objection when I fixed the day of our marriage for Giovedi Grasso. Then the fooling and mumming, the dancing, shrieking, and screaming would bo at its heijyht it pleased my whim to have this other piece of excellent masquerading take place at the same time.

Tho wedding was to be as private as possible, owing to my wife's "recent sad bereavement," as she herself said with a pretty sigh and tearful pleading glance. It would take place in the chapel of San Gennaro, adjoining tho cathedral. We wero married there before! During the time that intervened, Nina's manner was somewhat singular. To me she was often timid, and sometimes half conciliatory. Now and then I caught hor large dark oyes fixed on mo with a startled, anxious look, but this expression soon passed away. Sho was subject, too, to wild fits of merriment, and anon to moods of absorbed and gloomy silence. I could plainly see that she was strung up to an extreme pitch of norvous excitement and irritability,—but I asked her 110 questions. If, I thought, —if sho tortured herself with memories, all tho better,—if sho saw, or fancied she saw, tho resemblance between me and her "dear dead Fabio," it suited me that she should bo so racked and bewilwildered.

I caino and wont to and from tho Villa as I pleased.

woro

my dark glasses as usual, and not oven Giacomo could follow mo with his peering, inquisitive gaze for since tho night ho had been hurled so fiercely to tho ground by Guido's reckless and impatient hand, tho poor old man had boon paralyzed, and had spoken no word. Ho lay in an upper chamber, tended by Assunta, and my wife had already written to his relatives in Lombardy, asking them to sond for him homo. "Of what use to koop him?'r sho had asked me.

True! Of wjtiat use to give oven roofshelter to a poor old human creature, maimed, broken, and useless for evermore? After long years of faithful service, turn him out, cast him forthl If lie dio of noglect, starvation, and illusage, what matter?—he Is wornout tool, his day is dono—let him porish. I would not plead for him—why ,should 1? I had laid

IT WAS MY DOG WTVIS SHOT DEAD.

my own plans for his comforts—pl^ns shortly to be carried out and in the meantime Assunta nursed him tenderly as he lav speechless, with no more strength than a year-old baby, and only abowildercd pain in his upturned, lacklustre eyes. One incident occurred during these list days of my vengeance that struck a sharp pain to my heart, together with a sense of the bitterest anger. I had gone up to the villa somewli.it early in the morning, and on crossing the lawn I saw a dark form stretched motionless on one of the paths that led directly up to tho house. 1 went to examine it and stopped in horror—It was my dog Wyvis shot dead. His silky black head and fore paws were dabbled in blood—his honest brown eyes wero glazed with the filin of his dying agonies. Sickened and Infuriated at the sight, I called to a gardener who was trimming the shrubbery. ••Who has done this?" I demanded.

The man looked pityingly at the fcoor bleedinc remains and said in & low voice. •«It was Madama'sorder, signor. The dog bit her yesterday we shot him at daybreak."

I stooped to caress the faithful animal's body, and as I stroked the sllkj coat my eyes were dim with tears. "How did It happen?" I asked in smothered accents. "Was your lady hurt?"

The gardner shrugged his shoulders and sighed. Ma!—no! Bat he tore the tac« on her dress with his teeth and grazed her hand. It was litU*, hut enough. Ha will bite no more—povera bestial"

I save the fellow flvo francs.

SftlfL,

I ji

C-1 TERRk HAUTE BATUEDAY'MNING

"I liked the dog," I said briefly, "he was a faithful creature. Bury him decently under that tree," aud I pointed to the giant cypress on the lawn, "and take this money for your trouble."

He looked surprised but grateful and prymised to do my bidding. Once more sorrowfully carressing tho fallen head of perhaps the truest friend 1 ever possessed, 1 strode hastily into the house and met Nina coming out of her morning room, clad in one of her graceful trailing garments, in which soft lavender hues were blended like the shaded colors of late and early violets. "So Wy^is has been shot?" I said abruptly.

She gave a'slight snudderr "Oh, yes is it not sad? But I was compelled to have it done. Yesterday I went past his kennel within reach of his chain and he sprang furiously at me for no reason at all. See!" And holding up her soft small hand she showed me three trifling marks in the delicate flesh. "I felt that you wopld be so unhappy if you thought I kept a dog that was at all dangerous, so I determined to get iid of him. It is always painful to have a favorite animal killed but really Wyvis belonged to my poor husband, and I think he has ne^er been quite safe sinfco his master's death, and now Giacomo is ill—" -I see!" I said curtly, cutting her explanations short

Within myself I thought how much more sweet aud valuable was the dog's life than hers. Brave Wyvis—good Wyvis! He had done his best—ho had tried to tear her dainty flesh his honest instincts had led him to attempt rough vengeanco on the woman he had felt was his master's foe. And he had met his fate, and died in the performance of duty. But I said no more on the subject. The dog's death was not alluded to again by either Nina or myself. He'Uyin his mossy grave under the cypress boughs—his memory untainted by any lie, and his fidelity enshrined in my heart as a thing good and gracious, far exceeding the self-inter-ested friendship of so-called Christian humanity.

The days passed slowly on. To the revellers who chased tho flying steps of Carnival with shouting laughter no doubt tho hours were brief, being so brimful of merriment: but to mo, who heard nothing save the measured ticking of my own timepiece of Revenge, and who saw naught save Its hands, that every second drew nearer to the last and fatal figure on tho dial, tho very moments seemed long and laden with weariness. I roamed tho streets of the city aimlessly, feeling more li^o a deserted stranger than a well-known and envied nobleman, whoso wealth made him tho cynosure of all eyes. Tho riotous gleo, tho music, tho color that whirled and reeled through tho great street of Toledo at this season bewildered ancl pained me. Though I know and was accustomed to tho wild vagaries of Carnival, yet this year (hoy seemed to be out of place, distracting, senseless and all unfamiliar.

Sometimes I escaped from the city tumult and wandered out to tho cemetery. There I would stand, dreamily looking at tho freshlyturned sods above Guido Ferrari's grave. No stone marked the spot as yet, but it was close to the Romani vault,—not more than a couple of yards away from tho iron grating that barred the en* trance to that dim and fatal charnelhouse. I had a drear fascination for the place, and more than once I went to the opening of that secret passago made by the brigands to ascertain if all was safe and undisturbed. Everything was as I had left it, save that the tangle of brushwood had become thicker, and weeds and brambles had sprung up, making it less visible than before, and probably rendering it more impassable. By a fortunate' accident I had secured tho key of the vault I know that for family burialplaces of this kind there are always two keys—one left in charge of tho keeper of the cemetery, the other possessed by tho person or persons to whom the mausolouin belongs, and this other I managed to obtain.

On one occasion, being loft for some time alone In ray own library at tho Villa, I remembered that In an upper drawer of an old oakon escritoire that stood there, had always been a few keys belonging to the doors of cellars and rooms in the houso. I looked, and found them lying there as usual they all had labels attached to them signifying their use, and I turned them over impatiently, not finding what 1 sought I was about to give up tho search when I perceived a large rusty iron key that had slipped to the back of tho drawer I pulled It out and to my satisfaction it was labelled "Mausoleum." I immediately took possession of it, glad to have obtained so useful and necessary an implement I knew that I should soon need it Tho cemetery was quite deserted at this festive season, no one visited it to lay wreaths of flowers or sacred mementoes on the last resting places of their friends. In the joys of the Carnival who thinks of the dead? In my frequent walks there I was always alone I might have opened my own vault and goue down into it without be^ng observed, but I did not I contented myself with occasionally trying the key in tho lock and assuring myself that it worked without difficulty.

Returning from one of these excursions late on a mild afternoon toward the end of the week preceding my marriage, I bent my steps toward tie Molo, where I saw a picturesque group of sailors and girls dancing one of those fantastic,graceful dances of the country, in which impassioned movement and expressive gesticulation are everything. Their steps were guided and accompanied bv the sonorous t#anging of a full-toned guitar and the tinkling beat of a tambourine. Their handsome, animated faces, their (lashing eyes and iaughtng lips, their gay, many-col-oured costumes, the glitter of beads on the brown necks of the maidens, the red caps jauntily perched on the thick black curls of the fishermen,—all made up a picture full of light and life, thrown up into strong relief against the pale grey and amber tints of the February sky and sea: while shadowing overhead frowned the stern dark walla of tho Castei Noova

It was such a scene as the English painter Luke Fildr-s might love to depict on his can vass,—tho one man of today who, though bora of the land of opaque mists and rain-burdened clouds, has* notwithstanding these disadvantages, managed to partly endow his brush with the exhaustless wealth and glow of the radiant Italian colour. 1 watched the dance with a faint sense of pleasant—it was full of so much harmorv and delicacy of rhythm. The lad who thrummed the gnitar broke oat BOW and then into

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song,—a song aiaiect tnat ntted into the music of the dance as accurately as a ros'ebud into its calyx. I could not distinguish all the words he sang, but the refrain was always the same, and he gave it in every possible inflection and variety of tone, from grave to gay, from pleading to pathetic. "Che belia cosa de moire ucciso, 'Nanz' alia porta dell' innamorata!" meaning literally—"How beautiful a thing to die, suddenly slain at the door of one's beloved!"

There was no sense in the thing, I thought half angrily,—it was a stupid sentiment altogether. Yet I could not help smiling at the ragged, bare-footed rascal who sang it he seemed to feel such a gratification in repeating it, aud he rolled his black eyes with love-lorn intensity, and breathed forth sighs that sounded through his music with quite a touching earnestness. Of course he was only following the manner of all Neapolitans, namely, acting his song they all do it, and cannot help themselves. But this boy had a peculiarly roguish way of pausing and crying forth a plaintive "Ah!" before he added "Oh© bella cosa," eta, which gave point and piquancy to his absurd ditty. He was evidently brimful of mischief—his expression betokened it no doubt ho was one of the most thorough little scamps that ever played at "morra,' but there was a charm about his handsome dirty faco and unkempt hair, and I watched him amusedly, glad to be distracted for a few minutes from the tired inner workings of my own uu happy thoughts. In timo to come, so I mused, this very boy might learn to set his song about the "beloved" to a sterner key," ^nd might find it meet not to be slain himself, but to slay her! Such a thing—in Naples —was more than probable. By and by the dance ceased, and I recognized in one of tho breathless, laughing sailors my old acquaintance Andrea Luziana, with whom I had sailed to Palermo. The sight of him releaved me from a difficulty which had puzzled me for some days, and as soon as the little groups of men and women had partially dispersed, I walked up to him and touched him on tho shoulder. He started, looked around surprised and did not appear to recognize me. I remembered that when he had seen' mo I had not grown a beard, neither had I worn dark spectacles. I recalled my name to him his laco clearod and he smiled. "Ah! buon giorno, Eccolonza!" he cried. "A thousand pardons that I did not at first know you! Often have I thought of you! ofton have I heard your name—ah! what a name! Rich, great, generous!—ah! what a glad life. And on the point, of marrying—ah, Dio! love niiikos all the troubles so—so!" and taking, bis cigar from his inouth, he puffed a ring of paio smoke into the air and laughed gaily. Thou suddenly lifting his cap from his

ALIi JOY BE WITH TOU EXCELL.ENZA.

clustering black hair, ho added All joy be with you, Eccoilonza!" I smiled aud thanked him. I noticed he looked at mo curiously. "You think I have changed in appearance, my friend?" I said.

Tho Sicilian looked embarrassed. "Ebbene! we must all change," ho answered lightly, evading nly glance. "The days pass,—each day takes a little bit of youth with it One grows old without knowing it!"

I laughed. "I see," I observed. "You think I have aged somewhat since you saw me?" "A little, Excollonza," he frankly confessed. "I liavo suffered severe illness," I said quietly, "and mv eyes aro still weak, as you perceive," and I touched my glasses. "But I shall got stopnger in time. Can you come with me for a few moments? I want yonr help in a matter of importance."

He nodded a ready assent and followed me. CHAPTER XXXI.

f~*

left the Molo, and paused at a retired street corner leading from the Chlaja. "You remember Carmelo Neri?" I asked.

Andrea shrugged his shoulders with an infinite commiseration. "Ahl povero diavolo! Well do I remember him! A bold fellow and brave, with a heart in him too, if one did but know where to find it And now he drags the chain! Well, well, no doubt it is what he deserves but I say, and always will maintain, there aro many worse meti than Carmelo."

I briefly related how I had seen the captured brigand in the square at Palermo and had spoken with him. "I mentioned you," I added, "and he bade me tell you Teresa had killed herself." ••Ahl that I well know," said tho little captain, who had Hstened to me intently, and over whose mobile face flitted a shrdow of tender pity as he signed. "Poverinetla! So fragile and small. To think she had the force to plunge the knife in her breast Hs well imagine a little bird flying down to pierce itself on an uplifted bayonet Aye, aye! women will do strange thingS-^aadJtt te certain she loved Carmelo," "Yon would help him to escape ag&ln if* you could, no doubt?"! I inquired with a half smile.

The ready wit of the Sicilian instantly asserted itself. "Hot I, Excellenza," he replied, with an air of dignity and most virtuous honesty. "No, no, not now. The law is the law, and I, Andrea Luziuni, am not one to break it No, Carmelo must take his punishment it is for life they say- and hard as it seems, it is hut just. When the little Teresa was in the question. look too. what could I do? but now

4 S^j-J?.'Jg/Mi'

iKWCV1' .k*

matl,

—let the saints that choose lie! Carmelo, for I will not" I laughed as I met the audacious flash of his eyes I knew, despite his protestations, that if Carmelo Neri ever did get clear of the galleys, it would be an excellent thing for him if Luziani's vessel chanced to be within reach. "You have your brig tho 'Laura' still?" I asked him "Yes, Excollenza. tho Madonna be praised! And she has been newly rigged and painted, and sho is as trig and trim a craft as you can meet with iu all tho wide blue"waters of tho Mediterranean!" "Now see you," I said Impressively, "I have a friend, a relative, who is in trouble bo wishes to get away from Naples quietly and in secret Will you help him? You shall be paid whatever you think proper to demand."

The Sicilian looked puzzlod. Ho puffed meditatively at his cigar and remained silent "He is not pursued by tho law," I continued, noting his hesitation. "Ho is simply involved in a cruel difficulty brought upon him by his own family— he seeks to escape from unjust persecution."

Andrea's brow cleared.' "Oh, if that is tho caso, Eccellenza, I am at your service. But where does your friend desiro to go?"

I paused for a moment and considered. "To Civita Vecchia," I said at last "from that port he can obtain a ship to take him to his further destination."

Tho captain's expressive faco fell—lie looked very dubious. "To Civita Vecchia is a long way, a very long way be said regretfully "and it is tho bad season, and there are cross currents aud contrary winds. With all the wish in the world to please you, Eccellenza, I dare not run the 'Laura* so far but there is another means—"

And interrupting himself lie considered a while in silence. I waited patiently for him to speak. "Whether it would suit your friend 1 know not," he said at last, laying his hand confidentially on my arm, "bul there is a stout brig leaving here for Civita Vecchia on Friday morning next—"" "The day after Giovedi Grasso?" 1 queried, wfth a smile I10 did not understand. He nodded. "Exactly so. She carries a cargo ol Lacrima Cristi, and she is a swift sailor. 1 know her captain,—ho is a good soul but," and Andrea laughed lightly, "hf is like the rest of us—ho lovos money. You do not count the francs,—no, they aro nothing to you,—but we look to the soldi. Now, if it pleases you I will make him a certain offer of passage money, as large as you shall choose, also I will toll him when to expect his one passenger, and I can almost promise you that he will not say no."

This proposal fitted in so oxcellentlv with my plans that I accepted It, and

imp

onco named an exceptionally munificent sum for tho passage required. Andrea's eyes glistened as ho heard. "It is a little fortuno!" ho cried enthusiastically. "Would that I could earn as much in twenty voyages! But one should not be churlish,—such \uck cannot fall in all men's way."

I smiled. "And do you think, amlco, I will suffer you to go unrewarded?" I said. And placing two twenty-franc pieces in his brown palm I added, "As you rightly said, francs are nothing to mo. Arrange this matter without difficulty, and you shall not be forgotten. You can call at my hotel tomorrow or the next day, wlion you have settled everything—hero is tho address," and I pencilled It on my card and gave it to him "but remember this Is a secret matter, and I rely upon you to explain it as such to your friend who commands the brig going to Civita Vecchia. He must ask no questions of his passenger—tho more silence tho more discretion—and whon onco ho has landed him at his destination ho will do well to straightway forget all about him. You understand?"

Andrea nodded briskly. "Si, si, senor. Ho has a bad memory

jt is—it shall grow worse at your command. Believe It!" Continued on Third Page.

Always keep the bottle handy, Do not place it out of sight, For It cured our little Auay,

Who was cougblng day and night. Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup. Veni! Vidi! Vici this is said of Salvation Oil for it conquers tho worst cases of rheumatism and neuralgia at onco. Price only 25 cents a bottle.

Banana Juico for Bronchitis. The juice of bananas is recommended as one of the best remedies in chronic bronchitis with insufficient expectoration and marked dyspnoea. A dram eight or ten times a day during the first days is usually prescribed, and later the dose can be diminished.

The sirup is prepared as follows: Cut the fruit In slices nad place them in a jar sprinkle with sugar and cover the jar, which is then enveloped in straw and placed in cold water, and the latter is boated to the boiling point. The jar is then removed, allowed to cool, and the juice is poured into little bottles.—New York Telegram.^.

I have been bothered with catarrh for about twenty years I bad lost sense of smell entirely, and I bad almost lest my hearing. My eyes were getting so dim I had to get some one to thread my needle. Now I have my hearing as well as I ever bad, and I can nee to thread as fine a needle as ever I did, my sense of smell is partly restored, aod it seems to be improvingall the time. I think there is nothing like Ely's Cream J&lm for catarrh. Mrs. E. E. Grimes, Rendrill, Perry Co., O. 33-2.

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THE NEXT MORNINQ NEW AND MY COMPLEXIO doctor Mjm It sets gentt* oo Out atomacfa, lira ..Iddaeya«adtoapft¥wiat toxitfgrtt. This driak madaftom bartend Is pnpand for aw** eaally liJacsQed

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Railroad Time Tables.

Train rked thus (P) denote Parlor Cars attached. Trains marked thus (S) denote sleeping Cars attached daily. Trains marked thus (B) denote Bufl'et. Cars attached. Trains marked thus run dally. All other trains run daily, Sundays accepted.

•VA3t5TX?A.IiXA. mxirsriE. T. H. A I. DIVISION.

3.KAVK FOR TUB WEST.

No. 9 Western Express (SAV). 1.42 am No. 6 Wall Train 10.21am No. 1 Fast Line %(PAV) '2.15 No. 21 8.48 pm No. 7 Fast Mall 9.04 No. 18 Effingham Aco 4.05

LEAVE FOR TUB HAST.

No. 12 Cincinnati Express*"(8) 1.10 am No. 0 New York Express 1.51 am No. 4 Mail and Accommod&tion 7.15am No. 20 Atlantic Express (FAV). .11.60 am No. 8 Fast Line 2.85 No. 2 5.05

ARRIVK FROM TUB HI AST.

No. 9 Western Express (8AV). 1,80 am No. 5 Mali Train 10.15 am No. 1 Fast Line (l'AV) 2.tK) No. 21 8.88 pm No. 3 Mail and Accommodation 0.45 pm No. 7 Fast Mall* 0.00 pm

ARRIVE FROM THE WKST.

No. 12 Cincinnati Express (S) ISOam No. tt New York Express (.-AV). 1*12 a No. 20 Atlantic Express (PAY). 11^)4 No. 8 Fast Line 2.15 pm No. 2 5.00 No. 14 Effingham Ac 9.80 a no

T. H. A L. DIVIBION. LEAVK FOR THE NORTH.

No. 52 South Rend Mall 0.20 am No. 54 South Bend Express ...... 4.00 ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH. No. 51 Terro Haute Express 11.45 a No. 58 South Bend Mail 7.W

ZED. Sc T. 3E3T.

ARRIVE FROM SOUTU.

No. 0 Nash A C. Ex*(8 A B) 5.10 am No. 2 T. H. A East Ex 11.50 a No. 4 Cli A lnd Ex* (8) 10.00 No. 60 Accommodation 5.00 pm

I.1KA.VK FOR SOUTH.

No. 8 Ch A Ev Ex*(S) 6.00 a No. 1 Ev A lnd Mall 3.15 pm No. 5 Ch AN Ex*(8AB) 10.00 No. 7 Accommodation 10.80 am

33. Sc I.

ARRIVE FROM SOUTH.

No. 50 Worth Mixed 10.30 a No. 82 Mail A Ex 4.00 pm I,EAVE FOR SOUTH. No. 88 Mall A Ex 8.20 a No. 49 Worth'n Mixed 4.00

Q. &G 35. X.

ARRIVE FROM NORTH.

No. 3 Ch A rash Ux*(8) *. ... 5.50 am No. 49 Acc 10.25 am No. 1 Ch A Ev Fx 3.10 No. 5 AN Ex*(8AB) 9.50

LEAVE FOR NORTH.

No. 0 N A Ex*(HAB) 5.20 am No. 2TMAChEx 12.10Dm No. 60 Watseka Acc 8.20 pm No. 4 Nash A Kx»(8) 10.15

V..X3:. aaip.

ARRIVE FROM NORTHWEST.

No. 4 Pass Ex

11-£,am

No. 2 Pass Mall A Ex '... 7.00 LEAVE FOR NORTHWEST. No. 1 Pass Mall A Ex 7.10 am No. 8 Pass Ex 3.00 pm

I. &C ST- L.-BIQ 4

GOING EAST

No. 12 Boston ANY Ex* 1.34 a No. 2 Cleveland Acc 7.35 am No. 18 Southwestern Limited* 1.00 pm No. 8 Mall train* 8.48

GOING WEST.

No. 7 St. Louis Ex* 1.34 am No. 17 Limited* 1.58 No. 3 Accommodation '68pm No. 0 Mall Train* 10.10 am

Act on a new principle— regulate tbe liver, stomach Sim bowels through the nerves. Da.

Milks'

Pills

tpudilv curt biliousness, torpid liver and constipation. Smallest, mildest, sorest! BO doses,2S eta, Samples free at dni(uclsts. Br. fljf« Id. Co., EUiihsrt, 1*4,

LADIES!

WILL e.ROOB'SMASie SCALE tbe be»t nio»ycrfect almpl est boA lea* Tailoring Bys» tern In two. 110,090 Md

Cuts all garment* worn byUuSie* and Children (Including uDaentarmenU and sleeves) to fit tbe form per* fectlyj notrylngonorreflttlng. Emily learned.

Mami

om IJfSTBCCTJOS BOOK. nsd (Tact mUnled jan cm

TRUSSES

Will retain the most difflcnlt forms of liE JIN A or Rapture with comfort sod safety, thereby comply in* a radical CURE of all cowble Im|ierions to me future, may bo u*«i In batblnK^ndfi tllit« perfectly to form orbo4y, «ro won. without ixtooDveakaiee by tbe youngest child, most delicate lady, or tbe laboring num. nvoidiu* nil Mour, •wemtftpadded nnplmuwuitn*-**, wsiJ# iAuhV, Cool. Cleanly, «nd always reliable.

Made In every desirable pattern, with pads ana. tomically constructed, to suit all case*.

Tu!l5,

Tbn Correct airf Skillful Mechanical Treatment of

HERNIA OMIUPTURE SPECIALTY,

tt-rtfi iiwewry chauwm «n«l aitcmti.m*

LEWIS LOCKWOOD MANUFACTURER OF

Patent Limbs and Deformity Appliances

Seventh and Main Streets, HeKEEN BLOCK, ROOM No. 14.