Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 25, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 December 1893 — Page 4

2

FATE'S ANSWER.

The dance Is done: it is nearly dawn Alone I stand in the darkened halL The snow has covered.the rolling lawn.

And over it rosy shadows falL A golden streak lights the eastern sky, While the distant hilltops faintly show And the world seems cold bat, ah I not 1

My heart is wanned with a loving glow. Hie hoar/rost has tipped the window pane With a tracing delicate and fine. I turn away then I look again,

For here are letters in faint outline Aye, letters. Written by fate or chance? ij I love two maidens, and sweet are they.

Can I read choice? A second glance. Jack Frost has written both—Nan and May. —Flavel Scott Mines.

THE MOON'S TRAGEDY

BY KATE JORDAN.

(Copyright, 1803, by American Press Association.] CHAPTER I.

It was Christmas eve, and Nance was the last one of the chorus in the dressing room. ^The mw light from the unshaded gas jet flickered upon the bare, white walls and on her as she stoo& thoughtfully dropping the rouge, hare's foot and powder into the email black bag.

On the peg behind her hung the blueand silver robe which, with asalaiied smile, she wore

night

Baying

ly in "The Mikado." It had a

patient, lackadaisical expression, as if, like a

Bentient

thing, it felt a certain degrada­

tion in being strung up by the neck when not wanted. Nancc's (lulled, dark circled

eyes

rested wistfully on it. She would never wear it again. To leave it was like

goodby to a part of herself, but

the engagement ended tonight, and the 'robe was the property of the management. Taking some of the soft, silky stuff in her smull hands, she laid her cold cheek against it, and a mist rose over her burning eyes. The black butterflies and the strange, long throated birds on it were her only confidants. "It is all over. It is over—over," she raid, a breathless cutch making the words tremulous.

She thought of one face, of one voice that after tonight would be missing from her life forever.

When she reached the empty stage, she chanced upon a scene Bhifter who was sitting on Ko-Ko's dais where it lay with odd bits of scenery in a corner. "Hello, Thirteen!" he said, by way of greeting, pausing between bites of a Inige .sandwich. "What aro you waiting for, Sammy?" «sked Nance.

4,Tlie

new scenery is going to be set up for

-nex' week'* -production. This time we're -a-goin to have tragedy here, like this: "Hold off, Macduff! Marry, come up, I trow!' No more opera this winter. I'm mighty glad of it too. The plaguey tunes keep goin round and round in me head night after night Fcr he's goln to marry Yum Yum, Yum Ynm. Got anothef job yet, Thirteen?" he concluded, after a few light jig steps. "No but something will turn up, I suppose." And Nance moved on. His next words made her pause. "You know that Lorance was done with the stage?"

A stain crept up her pale young cheek, "Yes, I knew." "Ain't he a lucky dog, though?" and Sammy spread his grimy bands out. "Wasn't it enough fer to be given a voice like his 't hout falling heir to a lot of money and a castle throwed in in England? There'll be lots o' people who'll miss Lorance in America, I tell ye. He ain't like the folks in Ko-Ko's song what nobody wants around. He's a gentleman—that's what! He's got the nicest way of speakin to a man I ever hear. I don't wonder the girls keep writin to him. Why, 'mash' letters—well, his man jest sweeps them outl He don't pay no attention to them. He's too sensible. And"— here the eulogy ended with this eloquent ,statement-r"hegave me $f tonight fer Christmas."

Nance felt an tuigi disgust with herself. She tried to silent -v the minor notes surging in her soul. Why should bins have this

THE GHKKTIXO.

awful, despairing feeling of conclusion? Her life was not ended because Mark Lorance was about to disappear from it. This •pera, with its exotic, oriental charm, was not the end of everything. She had always been so defiantly proud, had kept herself so spotless among temptations in the moral mnrkinests enveloping her, had breathed a pure ether that might have been exhaled from her own soul, and to think that she had given her love, deeper, more passionate than she had dreamed she could ever feel, to a man who waa not of her world, and whose life hereafter would be as ftur removed from hers as if they lived upon different planets. What possible affinity could there be between Mark Lorance. English gentleman and famous singer, and Nance Pattteon, No. 18 in the chorus?

As she sauntered on her eyes lowered. She was not aware until quite close that somebody stood outside the star's dressing room. It was as if her thoughts bad summoned him, forNanki Poo, now in a shaggy gray overcoat, was drawing on his gloves and smiling at her. "Good morning, tor it's after 12," and he fang away his cigar. "A merry Christmas to you, Nance."

There was a long, interested scrutiny in his eyes. It almost seemed that he coul I -command the secret of her love from her, for he secui(Ml looking into her heart. In reality he was only wondering again, as he had wondered before, what it was that had always singled her so signally from her companions Pretty thongh she was, there were a half doaen others in line with her night after night win, far is positive beauty of feature went, far outshone her.

•liver-gold tang!en of hair. She was honest. She was loyal. He knew it. "Fve been waiting for you," he said as if this unheard of occurrence were the most natural thing. "You staid longer tonight than usual."

A tremulous joy fluttered in the girl's heart, so now that it terrified her. She tried to quell it in vain. He had waited for her. Why?

In a few moments they

were

on the stfeet.

It was a white night. Snow bad fallen all day, had ceased but an hour or so previous, and now the sky was swept clear of clouds, the moon hung in the pure blue—a sphere of radiant pearl.

To Nance the moments held a shadowy ecstasy shot with pain. A sense of unreality seized her. It was more tlyjn marvelous that she should be walking by the side of the man she loved in the bright, enwrapping calm.

Her steps grew lighter, her touch insensibly deepened on Mark's arm, the windless frost stung her cheek to a clear, lams rosiness. What words were those he spoke? "I couldn't let you go, Nance, without some sort of goodby."

Goodby? The gavety fled, affrighted by that word. She could not answer. It was as if her heart would burst. "I want to know something more about you," the earnest voice continued. "Why should you care at all?:: she dared to say.

The words that followed were irresistibly tender, but Nance listened in vain for something in them to echo the not of feeling in her own heart: "Because, Nance, you have that in you that makes me care! I have not watched you for months fornothing. I am your friend always. That sounds like a stilted, stock phrase, doesn't it?" he asked, with sudden intensity. "But I mean it. It is maddening that as yet there is nothing to prove it. Except for this little locket which I bought today, you must take my friendship on faith. Will you wear this and not qnite forget me, Nance, after I am gone?"

CALLED A THIEF.

It was very pretty, the locket with the sapphire lying on its bed of turquoise blue velvet. One tear that fell heavily from her eyes made an ephemeral diamond beside the other stone. "You are very good—very kind. I'll never forget you. I couldn't forget you," she said, and the effort to hide her tears made her voice sound cold.

But Lorance seemed quite contented.. "Then we're friends. I care very much for what your life is going to be. I care very much, Nance! I wish you'd leave the stage. This is your first experience in the chorus. You feel self reliant, strong all your impulses are toward the good. But you are alone in the world, Nance, are you not?"

She was almost awed by the whiteness and sternness of his lips. "All alone," she said, with a touch of recklessness. "Then the self assurance in which you wrap yourself may some day fail you. You will be constantly misunderstood you will touch pitch, even though you shrink from it. Nance, I Imv lived I have been through the mire. The wish to be strong, honorable, true, is not enough. You are intelligent, and there must be something else you could do."

She made no answer. Every kind, unimpassioned word he said seemed to plage them farther apart.

They had reached her home by this time. It was a small red brick house on the outskirts of the French quarter. Mme. Forestier lived here in the basement with acat and a bird. All the other rooms she rented to single lodgers. Nance was one of them. The dormer window facing a snowcapped spire and blinking like an eye in the white rays lighted the small place she called home.

The rest was like a chilling dream to Nance. Her one thought was to hide her secret still and say goodby without a tear. She heard Mark telling her where to write in London if she was ever in any emergency she felt the grip of his strong hand she heard him say: "Goodby, Nance—dear little Nance, goodby," and then she knew she was alone, his Christmas, gift in her hand, and that a measureless despair seemed suddenly to seize her like a palpable thing.

Let her grow to be an old \voman, and she felt she could never know more intensely the meaning of life's saddest truths than she did, standing there, watching bis retreating figure down the moon drenched street. "Goodby, Nance—dear little Nance, goodby"

The words were a requiem.

It was her vital Individuality that reachcd her fevered lips against the wan, biuish •at and appealed to him. She waa little, 1 cheeks. far from robust yvt so independent, so re- "He will never hurt as again, Teddy dear. served, but with subtle, swiftly fading It waa the last time, the last," she stint-

ftashes of diablerie In her hazel eyea. There was an alert, intelligent mind under the

CHAPTER N.

Christmas eve in a tenement house. It was far down in the city among the crooked, narrow streets of the older portion of the town, near the wharves where once the prosperous wives of Dutch burghers gossiped and knitted.

The day was bitterly cold, sonny, dosty. Since morning clouds had trembled across the sun's face, and New Yorkers looked for anow.

Jnst as it came flattering through the dying light of day from a thickly overcast sky, a young woman rushed from the tall, sordidly mean "dwelling house, her torn cloak half shading the face of the babe on her arm. On her cheek there was a scarlet bruise as from a blow, and her eyes held such terror as comes to dumb animals instinctively scenting death.

She ran on, a pitiful wreck of yoang womanhood. worn from poverty and the fearful struggle for mere material sustenance, embittered and heart hardened from ill treatment.

Altera long, breathless walk she came to Trinity church. Her strength seemed saddenly to ooze from her fingers, and she sank heavily against the railings, crashing the child passionately to her heart, and laying

tered, with half insane exaltation. "It went on long enough, didn't it? Enough

By the time this brief recital of her sad history was finished Nance bad gone some distance up Broadway—a strange, hopeless figure among the busy crowd.

In the shelter of a doorway she counted her last coins. There were just 75 cents. When they were gone, what was left? Ah, what? Nance knew. She was, taking her farewell of life today, and she would take it gtandlv, lavishly, spending all.

It was this feeling of reckless finality that made her hail a car and sink into a corner. At another, time she would have suffered much before spending the money required for fare, but it seemed a small consideration in view of this being the last time.

The familiar streets were coming. Soon they would pass the theater where she sang three years before. Ah uncontrollable magnetism to the spot made her alight and Btand looking up at the brilliant crystal lantern in the lobby. How long ago the life there seemed! Was it only years since she had seen Mark Lorance? Not centuries since that white, winter night? Not anoth-

TUB MOTHER AND CI1TI.D.

er existence since he spoke those words that seemed echoing still in her brain, "You will touch pitch, Nance, even though you shrink from it." Shrink from it! She had lived in it! The shafts of destiny had been too strong for her and had sent her hurling down, down.

Mark! Ah, she might think of him today—this last day. She had been nothing to him. It was only the thought of what he had been to her that filled her heart.

The lobby was quite deserted, and her eyes traveled from one insignificant object to another aa she reconstructed the picture of the past. But they paused along while on something at the side, where the light shone full upon it. His name—"Mark Lorance"—there it was upon a placard) Her heart seemed fluttering in her throat as her eyes glanced down the lines that told of his short visit to New York and how he had volunteered to sing at the great concert that night to help swell a relief fond for the families of miners who had been killed in a terrible explosion.

He was here! She might see him from afar offl She might hear him sing again! Hie hot tears clouded her eyes, bat her heart grew determined. She paid for a seat—the poorest in the house—high up in the gallery. "$jM

After gettlnfisbme milk for Teddy and a mouthful of food for herself, she returned to the theater. She was penniless now. But there was no fear of the fnturfr—there was to be no future. How peaceful the thought waa!

The theater filled slowly, for s&e waa very early, and it was late in the evening before Mark appeared. He looked just the same. Now that winter night did not seen so long ago. It was bnt yesterday, and she was No. 13 in the chorus. Amid the applause that greeted the singer poor Nancy's sob was unheard: "O God—to go back—to go back to that night!"

Her hopeless eyes did not leave Mark's face once, and the notes that rose throhbingly from hia lips she drank in like nourishment for her souL

After his last song Nance rose unsteadily and made her way toward the stairs. She wanted to hear so other voice. That must be the music in her earn when she looked on Death's face.

Poor Xancet She was under the sky again, just such a sky as she remembered in that

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, DECEMBER 16,1893.

blows, enough starvatio^! The brute—the brute! Oh, I seem still to see his red, sodden face so near—his surly curses ring and ring in my brain. Baby, do you think they've fonnd him yet? It wasn't oar fault, was it, that he stumbled and went over the stairs? Six flights down—ugh! He is lying there in the shadow—I can see him—I can see him—still—so still—alone. Tie must be dead. Yes, he roust be.

She laughed and the sound was strange— a mournful cooingthatseemed to rise from the ruins of a souL

Terror enlarged her eyes as through the falling snow she saw a police officer approach—a man she knew. "Hello, Nance! .What axe you doin out in the storm, bey?" he asked kindly,

Nance? Yes, it was she—three years older, three years sadder. "It's Christmas eve," she faltered, forcing a sniile, "and I wahted to show Teddy the shops, the crowds." "Got a bruise on your face again? Rad ley's at his old tricks, eh It'd be good for you if he died."

He did not guess what horror his words had aroused, but she bent her pinched, tremulous mouth down to the pale child's face, nodded and hurried past him "See that girl?" the officer asked of a friend who strolled up to him. "I've been watching her go down, step by step. This New York's a queer place, a terrible place. I sometimes stand on my beat here and watch the people pass. I know lots of them, and more about them than they think. Well, that girl just gone by has made a bad job of her life, a bad mess of it." "She's pretty still, only a bit hungry looking and scared. The baby hers?" asked the listener. "Yes, the poor kid. I heard her tell her story once to a police judge when her scamp of a husband was up for street fighting abd she tried to get him off. It was like this: Three years ago she was singing on the stage, and as pretty as arose her face was. I remember seeing her in 'The Mikado.' Pretty? Well, that isn't the word for it. She had such a baby look in her eyes and round her lips you'd never thought a man coitld have had the heart to scold her, much less beat her. Well, she fell sick and lost her voice. She was all alone in the world and poor into the bargain. When she was hard up and desperate, she somehow met that fellow Rad ley, who was mixed up with so many racing swindles a few years ago. He was flush with money, imitated the swells, lied to her, I guess, and persuaded her to marry him. Luck was against her. He lost every penny when Lady Betty went under in the Suburban, and then he became like a fiend, went from bad to worse, and now he has hardly a sober moment. They live in a terrible hole down by the bridge. He beats that poor little wife of his. Some night he'll kill her."

never to be forgotten walk, bine and silver with moonlight—just such a night, fresh snow on the streets, a hush and sparkle everywhere.

She turned her face toward the river, and a shivering sigh broke from her Hps. The moon seemed keeping pace with her, a cruel leer on its round face. "I know!" it seemed to say. "None of those passing you can read your heart—but I can. I will go with you I will light the river's hollows for you and show you the deepest spot. The secret is oars, Nance."

She lowered her head from the white hostility of the heavenly watcher, and Mark's imagined face rose before her, seeming to mock her misery with its flashing strength and beauty.

From this bitter dream world she was aroused by a clamor of voices and the touch of ahand on her arm. "You ueedn't play innercent. We seed yer snatch the watch!" she heard a voice say, and she became aware that she was the center of a crowd.

Her weak limbs tottered, and she could only gasp: "Let me go! Let me go! I took nothing! Oh, what do you mean?" and surely there never was anything more pitifully lovely than tyer eyes, big with fear and appeal

She saw a man dressed like a gentleman come hurriedly through the groups of chattering boys. "Here she is, mister. She swiped the ticker. Ef she ain't got it on her, she trun it away." "It isn't true!" Nance found voice to call out in a ringing tone. "Don't have me arrested. It isn't true—oh, no! no!"

What hand was that which .suddenly gripped hers? What face came close to her «. fi:—

MARK TOOK HE? FACE BETWEEN HIS HANDS, •changed, unhappy one? WTiat voice spoke her name again and again in accents of unbelief, of amaze, of sorrowful tenderness and keen delight? "Nance! They lie when they call you a thief! Don't tremble, dear! I believe you! I know. I've been looking for you everywhere for months. Oh, child, why didn't you let me know?" And the pitying eyes lingered on her ragged dress and the forlorn child.

Surely this was heaven! How else oould Mark be standing there, his arms around her, and the yearning in bis voice, in his eyes for which she had so often longed? He loved her nowl Her woman's instinct told her that he loved her—wretched, almost lost though she was. But was it-not too late— too late?

Her head sank heavily against hinf, and she knew no more. Hours afterward, when she had recovered, he drove her down to the tenement house near the bridge. There he found the neighborhood agog with the nyws that Ernest Radley had been found dead In the shadows of the lower hall where he had fallen. Nance'* slavery was over.

A few months later she was crossing the ocean to her English home, her husband bes^le her.- The moon was making a mirror of the sea, and the white face shining from the cloudless blue was repeated in every wave. "I always feel guilty when I look at the moon," Nance said, a smile flickering across her lovely little face. "Give me your hand, Mark. I have a confession to make." "This is a good place to ask forgiveness," he laughed. "My judgment is poor, my sentiment large under the moon, so fire away." "It's just this," and the soft voice grew heavy with a touch of the old sadness. "If vou hadn't mot me that Christmas eve, 1 would have killed both Teddy and myself. I wtus goi :»g to the river. That moon Beenml to know just what I was thinking of. Now I feel better since I have shared the guilty secret with you."

Mark took her face between his hands.g| "They say the moon is heartless, or she would blush for all the crimes she nightly sees. So I disappointed her when I saved you. I'd like to see you snap your fingers at her, the white witch

And she did.

The Alexandrian Codeju"ss^"

The "Alexandrian Codex," often referred to in Scri tural studies, is one of the most valuable and important manuscripts of sacred writ known to be in existence. It is written in Greek on parchment in finely formed nncial letters and -is without accents, marks of aspiration or spaces between the words. Ita probable date is the latter part of the sixth century. As early as 1098 it is known to have been in the library of the patriarch of Alexandria It was sent to England as a present to

Charles

I by Cyril las Lycaris in 1628 and is now in the British museum.—St, Louis Republic.

Beauty and Happiness.

Girls must be healthy and happy before they can be beantifuL "Do not think you make a girl lovely if yon do not make her happy," says Raskin. "There is not one restraint yoa put on a good girl's nature there is not one check yoa give to her instincts of affection or of effort, which will not be indelibly written on her features with a hardness which is all the morepainfnl because it takes away the brightness from the eyes of innocence and the charm from the brow of virtue."

A Professional Sitter.

American—Well, John, still in the laundry business? John—No, megettee better work, better payee. Me plofessionaL "Yoa are in a profession, are yoa? Weil, what is your profession?" "Sittee flo photograph flo Chinamana what want to legister."—New York Weekly- ,,

Dentists are great users of costly metal* Besides gold for stoppings, two-sev-enths of the world's consumption erf platinum is employed by them in making the wires by which the artificial teeth are firmly fastened to a plate.

Pnttyldea,

A dainty novelty for hanging beside the bureau to hold the buttonhook and other •mail articles is made of one of the wooden eggs used in stocking darning. At equal distances around the center screw in four of the small brass hooks such as are used on bangle boards. Then paint the egg white and decorate it with flowers. Attach a ribbon to two opposite hooks by which it may be hung on a brass nail in the wall. The egg may be gilded or covered with satin, if preferred, and may be finished according to one's fancy.

The Moon Made of Batter.

All English speaking people refer to the moon as "she" and the sun as "he." In Hindoo mythology, however, the "goddess of night" ill a male deity, supposed to be the son of the patriarch Atri, a young man who waa transferred to the realms of space because he was too good to associate with other human beings. The Malays, Siamese and several classes and castes of the Chinese speak of the moon as the great milk curd or butter lrnll which arose from the primeval sea of milk when it was churned by the gods to ^procure the much prized "beverage of immortality." -Mfi£

t.5ou

Never Heard a Dentist

say that SOZODONT was not a good article to preserve the teeth and gum*. This faot is not to be controverted. What gives it such prominence as a curative wash? It is compounded, after years of scientific plodding, of materials calculated to harden tbe gums, remove the septic acid, and avoid putrefaction.

So all ladies say of SPAULDING'S GLIDE.. They use it to make Lovers stick, ',*•

&BMK&9E Crape. Many persons cannot believe that crape is made of silk, because it is not glossy. Genuine crape is of pure silk, from which, by a secret process of manufacture, all the gloss has been taken. The peculiar wrinkles, which are supposed by many to be a characteristic of the goods, ore caused by a solution of gum. The cloth when made is dipped in the gummy solution and allowed to dry without pressing. Crape can always be made smooth by washing and ironing.— Fashion Journal.

Coughing Leatlti to Consumption. Kemp's Balsam will stop tbe cough at once. A ic j! fMORelief in SI* Hours.

Distressing"Kidney and Bladder Diseases relieved In six hours by the "New Great South American Kidney Cure." This new remedy is a great surprise on account of its exceeding promptness in relieving pain in the bladder, kidneys, back and every part of the urinary passages in male or female. It relieves retention of water and pain in passing it almost immediately. If you want quick relief this Is your remedy. Sold by W. D. Waggoner and all druggists, Terre Haute, Indiana.

DO YOU EAT PIE?

so, try—

"PIE IN FIVE MINUTES.'

Abdells Evaporated

10 KINDS* READY FOB USB. PURE, WHOLESOME, DELICIOUS Better and Cheaper than Green Fruits. ASS: IROTJ-R GBOOBB:

PB. R. W. VAN Yj JLJ Successor to 6

JZAH,

RICHARDSON & VAN VALZAH,

JDZEHSTTXST.

Office—Southwest corner Fifth and Man HD eats, over Matlonal Htate Uan* (entrant on yiftb street.

F*

LSENTHAL, A. B.

mi

Justice of the Peace and Attorney at Law, 28 south 8rd street. Terre Haute, Ind.

CHOLERA THOGS.

fpmsi

•& .7-^

Highest Cash Price paid for ill

*Also Tallow, Bone's'and Grease

OF AL.L, KINDS.

At my factory on the Island southwest of the city. _«i V** ma?

Harrison Smith,

%,

Office, 13 S. Second St.,

A? TERRE HAUTE, IND.

Dead

Animals

ten

miles

removed free within

of the city. Telephone, 73.

THUEMAN COAL AND MINING COMPANY.

BILLOFFARE TODAY.

Brazil Block, per ton $2.60 Brazil Block nut double screened.... 2.26 Brazil Block nut single screened. ... 1.25 Otter Creek Lump 2.00 Double Screened Nut.... 1.75

Office. 634 north Eighth. Phone, 188. GEO. R. THURMAN, Manager.

S2S to $50

TOAEEAU! Ltdlt* or

Utsntlemen, «IH«* "Old BeUoole

Pfrnttr." 0»lf

practical w*71« r*plst« rwl and vati UhH, hrb, «pmb«, rtri qulctljr dnae bj dippfoc in metal. 3»« txpmUnof, pwilrtiia* or m*efeln«7. Thict ptsM at on* operation l*«*5»10,*ar« 0u« (laUh «tum u&m (ton (be piatrr. Knrf Imj jttafoe to in. )".*lrr« II* Pr»P:tUrt*. W. r.

Harrftm Cfc, CMaari«%0.

BI-CHLORIDE OF GOLD CURE For LiQtroH, OPIUM and TOBACCO Habits at 108 south Tenth and-a-half streets. A. H. Brown, solicitor, and Dr. J. T. LAUQHEAD,

JSAAO BALL,

Medical Director.

FUNERAL DIRECTOR.

Oor. Third and Cherry Sfe, Terre Haute, Ind. Is prepared to execute elf orders ir his lin* with nefttnem anddlspatc) embalming a Specialty.

Power & Dailey,

509 Ohio Street.

Give them a call ifyoo have any kind of Insurance to place. Tbey will write yon in as good companiesMare represented in the city.

SULPHUR BITTERS

Ladies:— The Secret Of a Fair Face Is a Beautiful.. Skin. Sulphur Bitters Will give you A lovely •Complexion.

Htl'l1 tl1 IP WIWIPM'HHf 8end 3 2-cent stamps to A. P. Ordway & Co., Boston, Mass., for best medical work published

EPILEPSY OR FITS

Can this disease be cured? Most phytlolana No—Tsay, Tea all forma and the worst cases. Af» ter 80 years study and experiment I have found the remedy.—Epilepsy is cared by it eurtd, not subdued by opiates—the old, treacherous, quack treat, nent. Do not despair. Forget past Impositions en your purse, past outrages on your confidence, past failures. Look forward, not backward. My remedy 1* of to-day. Valuable work on the subject, and large bottle of the remedy—sent free for triaL Hention Poat-Offlc* and Bxpress address. Prof. W. H. PKBKB, F. D« 4 Cedar St., NswYoek.

If

Are,

you

'Goiris SotJiff TfilS

WltJTEB. FOR HEALZH,

PlfftsdRgL BlJsrflE§S

C.patRORE

MUIS.

G.P.A.

JLDtftsViLlEtyHAJtMLLEng.i

MrQR[DA

Railroad Time Tables.

Trains marked tbus (P) denote Parlor (Jan attached. Trains marked tbus (S) denote Sleeping Cars attached daily. Trains marked thus (BJ denote Bufibt Cars attached. Train* marked tbus run dally. All other trains run dally, Sundays excepted.

•VA.1ST1DJl.TJT A. HIILsTIE-

MAIN LINE.

LIKAVE FOR THK WEST.

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

7 Western Ax^fV). ...... '1.40 am 6 St Louis Mail 10.11 a 1 Fast Line" (P) 2.20 pm 21 St. Louis Ex* (D&V) 3.10 pin 13 Eff. Acc 4.05 11 Fast Mail4' 9.04

IJKAVK FOK THB BAST.

NO. No. No. No. No. No.

12 Cincinnati Express •(S) 1.30 am 0 New York Express (84V). 2.20 a 4 Mail and Accommodation 7.16 am 20 Atlantic Express (DP&V). 12.47 8 Fast Line 2.20 pm 2 Indianapolis Acc 6.05

AUKIVB FKOM THB BAST.

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

7 Western Express (V) .... 1.25 am 5 St. Louis Mail* 10.05 a 1 Fast Line (P) 2.06 pm 21SU Louis Ex* (D&V) 8.05 3 Mail and Accommodation 0.45 11 Fast Mail* 9.00 pm

AKBIVB FKOM THB WB8T.

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

12 Cincinnati Express (S) ... 1*20 a 6 New York Express (SAV). 2.10 am 14 Effingham Ac 0.80 am 20 Atlantic Express *(P4V). 1&42 pm 8 Fast Line* 2.05 pm 2 Indianapolis Acc 5.00 pm

T. H. & L. DIVISION.

T,BA VB FOR THB NORTH.

No. 52 South Bend Mall 6.20 a No. 64 South Bend Express 4.00 pm ARR1VB FROM THB HORTH. No. 61 Terre Haute Express 11.46 a No. 68

South Bend Mail 7.30 pm

PEORIA DIVISION.

ARR1VK FROM KORTHWB8T.

No. 78 Pass Ex .11.00 am No. 76 Pass Mail A Ex 7.00 pm LEAVE FOR WORTH WIST. No. 75 Pass Mail tEx 7.05 am No. 77 Pass Ex. 3.26 pm

3S. &c 1*. 2E3T. ARRIVE FROM SOUTH.

No. 6 Nash & C. Lim* (V) f30 a No. 2 T. H. A East Ex* 11.50am No. 60 Accommodation* 5.00 No. 4 Ch & Ind Ex* (SAP) .... ,10.60 pm No. 8 World's Fair Special*. ....

4.20

LKAVE FOR SOUTH.

No. 3 Ch A Ev Ex* (SAP) ...... 5.10 am No. 7 World's Fair Special* 11.66 a No. 1 Ev A Ind Mail 3.15 pm No. 6 Ch AN Lim* 10.00

IE. &c I.

ABBIVK FROM BOOTH.

No. 48 Worth Mixed 11.00 am No. 32 Mail A Ex 4.20pm LKAVK FOR SOUTH. No. 33Mall A Ex No. 49 Worth'n Mixed 3.20 pm

C. &c IE- X. AKRIVB FROM NORTH.

No. 3 Ch A Fwh Ex*(S) 0.10 am No. 7 Nashville Special* (PAB).-8 00pm No. 1 Ch A Ev Ex |-50pm No. SCAN Lim (DAV) 10.00 pm

LZAVK FOB NORTH.

No. SCAN Lim (DAV). 4.50 am No. 2THACh Ex 12.10om No. 8 Chicago Special* (PAB).... 8.20 No. 4 Nash A Ex*(8) 11.15

C. O. C. &C I.—BIG- -A. eoraro BAST No. 10 Boston ANY Ex* Lfflam No. 2 Cleveland Acc 7.25 am No. 18 Southwestern Limited*. L01 No. 8Mailtrain* 3

QomawBst.

No. 7 St. Louis Ex* 1.45 am No. 17 Limited* 1.46 pm No. 8 Accommodation ....... 7.48 pm No. 9 Mall Train* 10.00 am