Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 22, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 25 November 1893 — Page 2

'(!t)PYl?IOflT, 18937 BY CA^StLL &>C2

PUBLOrtep eV

w,rv.~-AND

SYNOPSIS. *, I

A namelem girl waif on the London wharves overhears a plot-between Putty, the landlord of Mariner's Joy, a confederate named Drlgo and a stranger known as Taras, to help uome deserters escape from a ship. CHAPTER II—The deserters arrive, a scuffle ensues In the barrooni of the Joy, and Taras disappear*. Ill and IV-After a vain hunt for Turns the waif is led by a strange sound to a liar beneath the bar. Following the clew, she finds Taras Imprisoned and releases him through means of an old robber tunnel from the cellar to the wharf. V—Putty and Driero discover the escape and cut ofT the waif in the tunnel, but she takes terrible revenue O'i'tliem and is befriended by Taras VI, VII, VIII—The waif runs away and attempts suicide. Taras finds her in a police cell and takes her to his own home under the care of Mere Lucas, his housekeeper. There she begins a new life as Aura. IX, and XI—Aura is dressed for her new station in Taras' household and makes the acquaintance of Major Kav^nagh, a bosom friend of. Taras, who is a Russian nihilist. XII, XIII and XIV—Taras is an artist making plaster groups to portray Uie tyiauny of the czar. Aura develops by dint of hard study Into a companion of the artist refugee*

CHAPTER XIII. AN ODI) DIARY.

In my room there was a table with an empty drawer which fastened with a key. It in half full of rubbish—odds and ends of all sorts secreted there as souvenirs of those early days when I was incapable of keeping any other kind of diary. They have served their purpose. There is not a scrap which fails to recall the very sentiment of the moment when I laid it away, and it would be easy for me to compile a minute record of my life in tnbeth from them alone. A few of these trifl» will suflice tm indicate the course of events during the early months of my new life.

Here at the very bottom are three peuny novelettes, bought for the illustrations on the cover, which alonp were intelligible to me. In one "Lady Ermyntrude overhears the conspiracy" and is represented listening. with horror on her face, at a half opened door in unother "Gwendoline denounces the baronet," who is quailing in terror before her outstretched finger, and in the third "Beryl says 'Die!' and shoots the villain"—and a modt unmistakable villain he is—"through the heart." Those pictures fascinated me. The heroines were all tall and beautiful, and a couple of them were in evening dress. I put myself in their place. The ladylike accomplishment of eaves dropping I had already practiced., I had only to unmusk the secret enemy of Tarns and shoot him through the heart to be per fectly satisfied And the meaus seemed almost within my reach. The revolver had not been removeu irom my room. For weeks I carried that dangerous and rather cumbrous weapon in my dress pocket. I smile now at lay simplicity, but my purpose was no laughing matter then I was in terrible earnest.

Along claspknife marks the day when 1 thought I might dispense with part of my portable armory which knocked against nty knee whenever I moved about. The complete Absence of fear shown .by Taras and the mild manner and innocent look of all his visitors had greatly calmed my apprehensions, and in addition to this wider Intelliguntiu .showed me that the hand counted for less than the brain in coping with the subtle enemy of Taras.

One uight Taras took me to the Westminster Music hall. Here is the programme of the spectacles which constituted twothirds of the entertainment. I had never before been inside a theater, and when I stood in the stalls and looked round and above me 1 was quite overcome with astonishment at the vnstness and brilliancy of the house. "I should think this is the grandest place in all the world." I said in a lowered voice to Taras.

A little farther on there is another programme, showing that soon after we went to the Lyceum theater. The play made less impression on my mind. I could not understand it all. My intelligence was not yet sufficiently expaudal to comprehend the higher art, and perhaps this was why Tarns took me first to the mu*ie hall. Still that evening's experience was delightful, and the long talks it led to afterward opened quite a new field of ideas.

Very different emotions are recalled by this handkerchief, torn and shredded in a passion'of furious jealousy. I must have used my teeth to rend it in this way. It was that uvening when George Gordon dropped in after dinner and Kavnnagh. with couple of friends, came in after. As usual when a visitor called, 1 went up to my room to avoid unpleasantness, for I had stuck scrupulously to my determination to speak English only to Taras. and 1 wa ouly just beginning to make myself under stood in French to Mere Lucas. The men tt.vid and played cards until 2 in the morn iug. and 1 sat on the stairs listening to the sou*.:ds that came from below, with ven omens jealousy rankling in my breast, the cold sweat of rage beading my lips and brow, when the jovial voice and hearty laugh of Taras reached my ear.

mtf

you ttert not a liar wow would know that am Prince BQrym**w" When the party broke op, I went down, ostensibly with the p«t*xt of saying "good night" to Taram, but with the covert to tea tioik of picking a quarrel—of Impiwtirui to him •omethlng of the vindictive misery I (»}t. Seeing my condition, he made sit

SPECIAL -APRANCrC/Vvf

down, and having lit a pipe seated himseli in the chair opposite and chatted about the friends who were gone, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to en ter into genial conversation at that hour.

Little by little he led up to my occupation during the evening, and after bringing me by my own confession to see how child ishly selfish, weak and inconsistently fool ish my jealousy was'he drew tears of regret and shame into my eyes by asympa thetic word and then inspired me with the consoling hope that my own self esteem would save me from any renewal of this hnmiliation. A second handkerchief, scarcely crumpled and laid away in tri umph after a bard struggle with myself, shows that I profited by this lesson later on when the friends met again. Indeed my temper was every day growing more amenable to reason, and I grew braver and I hope better tinder the gentle, humanizing influences which my dear friend conT stantly brought to bear upon me.

A day spent in the beantifnl countfy be-' yond Woking is chronicled in this bunch of withered flowers. This was a fresh revela tion to me, for with the exception of my memorable wandering to Greenwich I had never been out of London. It was in the first week of June. My astonishment be gan soon after we passed Ciapham and in creased as the houses grew fewer and the expanse of country wider, and 1 could uot help bursting out into exclamations of de light now and then.

Taras caught my enthusiasm and was as ready as 1 to point out any fresh aspect. When we were fairly in the country and away from the station and people, I feltthat I must sing or run or cry to give vent to my exuberant emotion. It seemed as if Taras and I were one—I saw with his eyes, heard with his ears, and in my heart was a sentiment of pure, ineffable love and divine tenderness which belonged more to his nature than to mine. He picked these flowers for me 1 strewed them on my pillow and pressed my burning face on their cool petals when I lay down that night.

One more extract from this odd collection shall close the list. It is a collection of paintings by Prince Borgensky, exhibited at the Modern gallery in Bond street. I had often heard the word "nihilism" and "nihilist" spoken in Lambeth, and one morning wheu we were walking in the park—we never failed to go out for an hour or two before lunch—I asked Taras to tell me what a nihilist-was. "A Russian nihilist," said he, "is a man who desires freedom for his country such as we enjoy here in England, if we can get it. But he would be quite content with less-" JJi'J "Are you a nihilist?" said ,***

He nodded. "Have you always been a nihilist?' I asked. "No I was once a servant—1 might al most say a friend—of the czar, who is now my enemy." "What made you become a nihilist?''

He reflected longer than he usually did before replying to my questions and then said: "1 will show you, Aura.' and turning from the path he led me across the park aud over Piccadilly into Bond street. There we entered a large gallery which was al ready crowded wall well dressed people. The walls were covered with pictures. I may say without exaggeration that there were hundreds of paintiugs. There were some large ones representing battle scenes, and others quite small, for the most part portraits, but the greater number, and those which attracted most attention, illustrated prison and exile life in Russia and scenes relating to the march of prisoners into Siberia. The misery of this awfnl march, the attendant horrors of the etapes, where men and women, old and yonng, where the habitual criminal and the tenderly nurtured girl, condemned without trial by the administrative process, were herded together in loathsome garments without regard to decency or health and with Itsw care for their preservation than would be bestowed upon cattle, were shown in such vivid real ity that one turned with feeling of sick neas from the canvas, as if the reek of pol lution and disease steamed from them. "This is what made me a nihilist." Taras said in a low voice. "You have seen all this?" I asked.

He nodded. A plethoric young man with long hair was passing judgment on the picture in the loud tone of conceit. "Vigor, I grant yon," he said But the |hing is overdone. The effect he aims at is spoiled by exaggeration. Borgensky may be a rabid nihilist, but it is equally ck.ai that he is making capital out of a political boom in fact"—he added in a confidential tone—"he almost admitted the fact when 1 taxed him wirh it here the other day." "That is uot truel" said Taras, raising his voice.

The knot of admirers about the stont young dilettante turned round, and the youth himself, scanning Taras from head to foot, said, with impudent contempt "Beg pardon, may I ask who you are?" "If you were not a liar," replied Taras, "you would know that I am Prince Borgensky."

It waa in this way that I came to know who Taras was.

CHAPTER XIV t'/V A WARS-ISO.

One morning I was particularly bright and happy. Taras and I had risen early, by arrangement made over night, and gone to the flower market at Coven Garden, from which we returned ladened with flowera, and I was then disposing them about our pretty living room. Mere Lucas surprised me by repeating a phrase which she had not used for along time. "Pauvre ctirie, va!" stud she in a trembling voice, regarding me with tender commiseration in her broad, motherly face as she stood before me with her bands planted on her massive hips. "Why do you say that. Mere Lucas?" 1 asked, for I could now steak In French with tolerable fluency, I bare everything I want.** "It is true, it is true. Thank heaven, yon have everything you desire." "Then why do yoo say 'poor dearie* with that look of sadness?" "Why do I say it*" she said, echoing my words to get time for refleoShe hesiated. Her lips trembled a* if she were to tell something that

They had both the same good laugh, the same honest, open way of looking you full in the eyes, the same gentleness and ready sympathy. Both might have been cast from the same mold, but Gordon was the rough cast, still needing the finishing tou and polish which gave Taras his immen, superiority. Gordon's eyes lacked the tistic depth and his expression the hi intelligence and serious bent that distinguished Taras—just as his manner wis wanting in some quality which marked the high breeding and refinement of his friend. In their hands more than any thing the difference between them found expression. Gordon's were pretty, with tapering fingers and a dimple in the knuckle, soft and slow in movement Taras had long, thin fingers with spatula tips, and they were full of nervous energy. "Ah, what a good husband he would make, that good M. Gordon!" Mere Lucas more than ouce exclaimed. "So rich, so amiable, so gay and with such a good heart and so easy to lead!"

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAF EVENING MAIL, NOVEMBER 25,1893.

withheld, and then talcing me by the arms and drawing ine to her breast she got out of the difficulty by saying: "Becadse I love you. Go," ard with a sounding kiss she released me aad went off to her kitchen. I accepted this feminine explanation then, but before long the same expression cropped up again apropos of nothing when I was singing from sheer want of thought* That set me wondering. What was there ia my condition that appealed to her sympathy? I was no longer the deplorable j«-::vure that first excited her pity. Why would a invrry laugh now and then be jlutked by a s: asshe squeezed my hand, ii-etid i:j a rufi ui shake of the head and a -loot of u-arfelwadness?

AtioU phase of her affectionate regard added to r.ty perplexity before long. She became remarkably urgent in her praise of George Gordon and last no opportunity of bringing us together. "Good day, Mme. Lucas," Gordon would cry in his cheery voice and execrable French when the door was opened to him. "Fine weather, isn't it? Is M. Taras in bis studio?" "I will go and see," Mere Lucas responded in good Norman, "but behold ma'm'selle all alone," and opening the sitting room door she gave the poor man no option but to enter and pass a quarter of an hour with me, and a bad quarter of an hourit usually was for him owing to his very limited knowledge of French and my obstinate perseverance in speaking English only to Taras.

He was a nice fellow and the most intimate friend of Taras. A stronger bond of friendship existed between them than between Taras and Kavanagh, perhaps because there was more weakness in Gordon's character. Kavanagh was undoubtedly stronger in purpose and action, which was the reason, I believe, for Taras choosing him rather than Gordon as a guardian for me in case of accident.

I liked Gordon for his honest simplicity, his obvious kindness of heart and for a certain resemblance to Taras in personal appearance and some phases of character. Like Taras, he was strong and big, fair and blue eyed, careless with regard to dress—in striking contrast to Kavanagh, who always dressed perfectly and had never a hair astray—and his voice was hearty and outspoken.

But it never occurred to me that I should. lead him. No idea of marriage ever entered my head at that time.

Seeing that I failed to profit by her hints and that I was as far as ever from regarding Gordon as a possible husband, Mere Lucas took more decisive means of warning me against the danger which lay wiseen beneath my ever increasing attachment to Taras. She found me one morning alone in his workshop setting some fresh flowers in the brown jar by the window. "It is good to put flowers where he may see them when he turns from his work," said she, "for his heart must be heavy, like a sick person without hope, when he thinks and thinks hour after hour of the misery of his country. How grand it is!" she added turning to the life size group, now nearly finished, which Taras had mod eled in the past month from the smaller sketch. "How it strikes one with pity and stirs up one's heart! One would say that poor beaten creature had no hope in the world. It is magnificent. And to think that out of a piece of soft, shapeless clay he makes a figure which fills one with sympathy for that poor Russian! It 1B grand to have that power and the courage to practice it. But the gift was not meant for him. It should have been given to one with no wish to live, no love for home and friends, not to my dear master. How fond he is of the world, of simple things, of us, look you! See how sweet he is with children and thiuk what happiness it would have been te such a man to have a dear wife and children of his own to love!"

The idea of Taras with a wife for his com panion presenting itself to my selfish mind tor the first time filled me with jealous ter ror. "Why should he not marry?" I asked, giving expression to my fear. "Because ha ought not to marry That is reason eucugh for him. His choice is made. Be has offered to sacrifice his life tor his country, and with that fate banging over him he will never marry. Believe me, my poor little friend, for I know my master, and I tell you that he will never marry —never, never!"

'VWf&JSfl CHAPTER XV AWAKEXIXG. 1 understood now the meaning of Mere Lucas' ominous headshakings, of her en deavor to promote an attachment between me and Gordon, and of this last measure by which she had shown me that Taras would never marry. She feared that my affection for him was ripening into love and that I should expect him to make me his wife.

The relation quite stupefied me, and I sank down silently on the stool by his bench, with tears that I could not account for gathering in my eyes and a feeling of desolation and loss in my heart.

Mere Lucas kissed me and went away with a little sob of sympathy. "He will never marry me," I said to myself, trying to realize my situation and find an explanation of the sadness that oppressed me. Undoubtedly love, unknown to me, had been smoldering in my breast from the first moment that Taras smiled at me, and to bust up into flame it only needed that nn fortunate touch by which old Mere Lucas attempted to stifle it. "He will not marry me," I said, repeat ing her words with a little addition of my own. Then slowly the graver import of her warning dawned upon m& His reason for avoiding marriage was not because he oonldnot love, hut because be would not doom his wife to widowhood or exile to Siberia—because he knew that ere long he mossdie or be takes prisoner to Russia.

At this perception a cold sweat burst out upon my brow, as if I had become aware for the first time of this impending fate

Going to my room, I took myself to task for my want of vigilance. What had f. done to guard his life since tin night when I learned that it was in danger? Nothing beyond carrying weapons in my pocket for a few weeks and listening when I found the chance to scrape of conversation that 1

could not understand, and even theseTeeble attempts had been abandoned lately, and I had suffered myself to be lulled into a state of carelessness by the absence of any open sign of hostility toward Taras and by his own disregard of precaution.

But this apathy on the part of the secret enemy 1 had been led to expect from the conversation of Taras and his friend Kavanagh. They had said that probably no further attempt would be made for some months. Those months were now passed. The critical time was at hand, for I bad gathered from one or two remarks that any fresh offense to the czar would be the signal for a renewed and final effort to silence Taras. That fresh offense was about to be committed. The group of statuary was finished. The work of casting and burning done, the striking allegory would be publicly exhibited for all the world to talk of. 1 recalled now, almost with stupefaction at mys, incredible indifference, an incident which proved that the secret enemy was on the alert and fully acquainted with Taras' design. The proprietor of the pottery at which it was intended to burn the clay group had called to inquire if the subject was of a political character. Taras of course admitted frankly that it was, and when Mr H—-, for commercial reasons, had begged to decline to give any assistance in the production he asked Mr. what reason he had for suspecting that the work was a political one. "My information, sir," said Mr. "came in the form of an anonymous letter, and for that reason I felt that ifa justice to you I ought to have a personal verification of the fact before declining the commis sion."

When Gordon heard of this, he laughed and declared that there was not a word of truth in the statement. "No anonymous letter was Heeded. Old has found out that you are Borgensky, the nihilist, and with the hope of knighthood before him and the dread of losing a sale or two in Russia he thinks it best to decline the job."

At the time that explanation was accepted by me as readily as it was by Taras, but it was different with me now. 1 felt sure that the secret enemy had made this communication.

Who could he be? Clearly some one who had seen the group, and, not less obviously, one of the Russian visitors who called on Taras. But which of them? To my eyes they seemed all pretty much alike—meek, gloomy, unhappy looking men, dreadfully out at elbow, and the shrug of pity or frown of discontent with which Mere Lucas ex pressed her feeling regarding them was usually accompanied with a significant movement of the thumb and finger, which led me to understand that their object was to get money out of Taras. There was none who looked like a traitor, and I could not believe .that any would be base enough to .betray him to the police, for, however unhappy they looked on arriving, not one went away with disappointment in his face, and though Taras was careful to con ceal his generosity I had reason to know that he gave away to his distressed coun trymen infinitely more than he spent upon himself.

All through the night I taxed my brain with conjectures and surmises without ar riving at any definite conclusion with re gard to,the identity of thisdreaded enemy, and all 1 could do to silence my self reproach for past ueglect was to vow that 1 would be more watchful and vigilant in the future.

And this vow was not made in vain, i|

^CHAPTER XVI.

Gordon's broad forehead was beaded with perspiration. "I was anxious to catch you before yon went out, old man," he exclaimed, wiping his face with a large handkerchief after paying his devoirs to me in some choice scraps of French and laying an uncut illus trated magazine by my cup. "Couldn't get a cab, and—phew! the sup's blazing." "Nothing unpleasant, I hope, to make you expose yourself in this way." "Not a bit of it. But you'll never guess what has drawn me out of my den at this hour." "I won't try. Never saw you out before midday before. What is iy' "Business."

"Business—you, George Gordon—impos sible!" "It's a fact. I'll tell you all about it ..when we get up into the studio." "No, tell me now. It's never too early to h^ar good news." ell, then—pardon me, mademoiselle, 1 can't express myself in French—have you found any one to burn your group yet awhile?" "No. I have been to Cramps and Fisher and Hudson. No good. They're all fright ened by the size. They haven't properdins for the work and can't do it." "Then I will." Jpgj

You!" Jfes, I've invested capital in a pottery."

"IDorder

to help mo out of my difficulty.'

"Not entirely. The fact is, a kind of moral awakening is at the bottom of it. Don't laugh. It's no joke, I can tell you. I never felt so serious, so right down in earnest, in all my life. You know my con science has been pricking me for some time

Continued on Third. Page.

Angels of the Tombs.

There are four women in New York .whose names are little known to the general public bnt who are honored by the class among whom they labor. These are Mrs. Ernestine Schaffner, Mrs. M. J. Studwell, Mrs. Mary Foster and Mrs. A. C. Taylor, and they are sometimes styled the "Angels of the Tombs." Mrs. Schaffner interests herself in procuring bail for needy criminals. Mrs. Studwell and Mia. Taylor sing with the Tombs prisoners on Sundays, besides doing many kindly little offices for than at other times, and Mrs. Foster busies herself with missionary work among young women.—New York Correspondent.

His Test.

McGobb—I see they do be talking av bavin free letter delivery for th' farmers. What do you think av it?

McGabb—I don't know whether I am for it or agin it. Do they have it in England ?—Indianapolis Journal.

A National Bleating

is SOZODONT, for tnere can be no "foulmouthed" man or woman who uses it. It is purifying, beautifying, and exquisite in flavor. Whoever uses it regularly will keep his teeth for years, and whoever abstains denies himself a great luxury. It costs comparatively bat little mosey, and ia invaluable.

SFAUMEM»*SGI.UK

Why Is

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Beeaaae it forms strong at^dament*.

For Sleeplessness

Use Horsford's Arid Phosphate,

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Features of Millinery.

There is a fancy for small bonnets—in fact, the bonnets are as tiny as the hats are enormous. One of the most striking of these is the Valkyrie capote, with two black wings across the front. The only large bonnets worn are of beaver in modified Empire shape, with strings of black satin ribbon tied under the chin and flaring brims filled underneath, next to the hair, with flowers or loops of ribbon.

Another striking feature of this season's millinery is- the George Washington cocked hat. The Louis Seize bow wired to form three or four open loops, with wired and twisted ends, is its favor-

^*r-snsi

:j%*

THE CZAR STRIKES.

While we were at breakfast the next morning a well known knock at the door was followed by the usual cheery formula "Good morning, Mme. Lucas. Fine weather, isn't it? IsM. Taras in his studio?'' "What can have brought out our friend so early?" exclaimed Taras as Mere Lucas admitted the visitor "Welcome. George Gordon."

NEW HATS AND BONNETS.

Iwclecoration. Round hats are of glossy beaver, satin antique, felt and velvet, flaring away from the face and disclosing a single rose resting against the hair, and have a large panache of four or five 03trich feathers on the side or stiff wings of black standing up smartly in the loops.

Lace and fur, fur heads with roses and feathers with chiffon appear in rather daring, but none the less charming, incongruity on the same hat. Sable, and the brown fur that imitates it, and Persian lamb are the furs most used, point duchess and the lighter applique laces as well as Venetian patterns are seen in the laces, and the flowers are roses, violets and poppies. "i

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Lady Aberdeen's Speaking:.

characteristic of Lady Aberdeen's •peaking," says one who has often listened to her public addresses, "is her clear, resonant voice, splendidly modulated and oontrolled. She can be heard in every corner of large auditoriums." Which is remarkable enough among women speakers to be emphasized. If women want to talk, they certainly want to be heard—a result which only a small percentage of them accomplish.

Be Your Own Doctor.

It won't cost you one half as much. Do not delay. Send three 2 cent stamps for postage, and we will send you Dr. Kaufmann's great work, fine colored plates from lire, on disease, its causes and home cure. Address A. P. Ordway &Co., Boston, Mass.

Make a Sweeping Cap.

The tidy housewife protects h6r hair when sweeping from the dust. This cannot be more easily and conveniently accomplished than by wearing a sweeping cap. Make a circle 18 inches in diameter of cambric or other soft, light fabric. Put on a casing an inch from the edge and run in a piece of thin elastic. Draw up to fit the head and fasten. The edge may be pinked all around or bound with a contrasting color. Aside from wearing this when sweeping, use it when cooking or baking also when taking cure of butter. Its advantages are manifest.

Coughing Leads to Consumption, Kemp's Balsam will stop the cotigh at once./ -tyKu* ft

Relief In Six Hours.«

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No. No. No. No. No. No.

No. 183 Pearl Street^ New York.

Railroad Time Tables.

Trains marked thus (P) denote Par'or Oar* attached. Trains marked thus (S) denote Weeping Cars attached daily. Trains marked thus (B) denote Buffet Cars attached. Train* marked thus run daily. All other trala» run dally, Sundays excepted.

zcinsriEi.

MAIN LINE.

LKAVK KOlt TUB VKHT.

AKHIVK FKOM THB WKHT.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

12 Cincinnati Express *(8) 0 New York Express (8&V) 14 Effingham Ac 20 Atlantic Express (P&V). 8 Fast Line 2 Indianapolis Acc

No. 0 Nash & C. Lim* (V). ....... No. 2 T. H. & East Ex* No. 00 Accommodation* No. 4 Ch & Ind Ex* (8 & P) No. 8 World's Fair Special*.

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Don't pay Jargedoctor's bills. The b$st medical book published, one hundred pages, elegant colored plates, will be sent you on receipt of tbree 2-cent stamps to pay postage. Address A. P. ORDWAY & Co., Boston, Mass.

1.40 a 10.11» 2.20 3.10 4.05 0.0-1 in

7 Western Ax*(V). est. Louis Mall .Sn 1 Fast Line*(P). .... 21 St. Lou Is Ex* (DA V) ........ 1 3 E A 11 Fast Mall* .....

IjEAVE FOR TH® EAST.

No. No. No. No. No. No-

12 Cincinnati Express (S) 1.30 am 6 New York Express (8«V). 2.20 a 4 Mall and Accommodation 7.16 a 20 Atlantic Express (DP&V). 12.47 8 Fast Line 2.20 2 Indianapolis Ace. 5.05 pm

AKHIVK FKOM l'HB J£AJ3T.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

7 Western Express (V) .... I,/Sam 5 8t, Louis'Mail* ....... .lO.irtam 1 Fast Line (P). ....... .2.05 pm 21 St. Louis Ex* (D&V) S.OJ 8 Mall and Accommodation n.45 11 Fast Mail* u.00| ra

1.2J a rb 2.10 am H.8»i am 1 12.42 2.05 5.00

T. H. & L. DIVISION.

LEAVE FOB THE NOBTH

N 5 2 S a 6 2 0 a No. 54 South Bend Express 4.00 ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH. No. 51 Terre Haute Express ..... 11.45 am No. 58 South Bend Mall 7.30

PEORIA DIVISION.

ABRIVK FBOM NORTHWEST.

No. 78 Pass Ex .11.00 am No. 70 Pass Mail A Ex 7.00 LEAVE FOR KORTHW EHTr. N 7 Pass Mail & Ex .... ... 7.05 am No. 77 Pass Ex 8.25

IE. & T. ZEE. ARRIVE FROM SOUTH.

4.80 am 11.50 am 5.00 10.60 .4.20pm

LKAVB FOR SOUTH.

No. 3 Ch A Ev Ex* (SAP) No. 7 World's Fair Special*. N 1 E A In a No. 5Ch ANLim*

5.10 am 11.55 am 3.15 pm 10.00

ARRIVE F/lOM SOUTH.

11.00 a

LEAVE FOR SOUTH*

No. 83 Mall A Ex 8.50 a za No. 49 Worth'n Mixed 3.20

C. & IE- X. ARRIVE FROX SOUTH.

No. 8 CbrA yash Ex*(S) 6.10 am No. 7 Nashville Special* (PAB). .8 00 No. 1 Ch A Ev Ex 1.60 pA No. 5C ANLim (DAV). ..... .lO.OOprir

LEAVE FOR NOltTH.

No. 0 AN Llm (DAV). 4.50 am No. 2THAChEx 12.10om No. 8 Chicago Special* (PAB). ... 3.20 pm No. 4 Nash A Ex*(S) 11.15 pm

C. O. C. &I.-BIO- 4. OOING HAST No. 1 0 Boston ANY E No. 2 Cleveland Acc No. 18 Southwestern Limited* No. 8 Mall train* ooiva WEST. No. 7 St. Louis Ex* No. 17 Limited* ........ No. 8 Accommodation N a a in

1.30 am 7.25 a ED 1.01 8 a

L45

1.45 7.48 pnj 10.00 am

s. x. HCSTOW. A. J. DUNKIOAJT.

HUSTON & DUNNIGAN,

ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW

AStD NOTARIES PUBLIC.

Special attention given to probate business Linton Building, 521 Ohio street.

DEAFNESS

ITS CAUSES AND CUBE.

Scientifically treated by an aurlst of worldwide reputation. Deafness eradicated and entirely cured, of from 20 to 80 years' standing, after all other treatments have failed. How the difficulty Is reached and tbe causi removed, fully explained In circulars, with affidavits and testimonials of cures from prominent people, mailed free.

Dr. A. FOSTTAINB, Taeoma, Wash.