Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 25, Number 8, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 18 August 1894 — Page 2

I

LOST LOVE.

Who wins bis lore shall lose her. Who loee* her shall sain. For still the spirit wooes her,

A soal without a stain. And memory still punsaes her With longings not In vain.

He loses her who gains her, Who watches day by day The dust of time that stains her.

The griefs that leave her gray. The flesh that yet enchains her Whose grace hath passed away.

Ohl happier he who gains not The low some seem to gain The joy that custom stains not

Shall still with him remain. The loveliness that wanes not. The love that ne'er can wane.

He dreams she grows not older The lands of dream among, Though all the world wax colder.

Though all the songs be sang. In dreams doth he behold her Still fair and kind and yonng. 'Ban and Arriere Ban," Andrew Lang.

CRANDALL'S ESCAPE.

The prison stands upon a llttlo elevated stretch of ground, its tall trees and trim, green yard contrasting with the dreary barrenness of the low, sagebrush covered hills which lie about it In all directions. Young Paddock, who had been sent by his paper to report anything of interest concerning Crandall's escape, drove up over the dusty road and alighted at the great barred doors He found to his disappointment that the warden and his posse were still out on the hills, and he sat down with a bored air upon a bench in front of the low stone building to await their return.

The day was warm and bright, tho sun beaming broadly down from tho clear Nevada sky. It was so still that the sound of tho bolls on a mule train passing just beyond the stono walls sounded dreamily through tho hazy summer morning long after tho heavy wagons were out of sight. Paddock was almost dozing whon a man In stripes approached. '"Mr. Jarrett wants to know, sir, if you'd oaro to sco the men turned out in tho yard."

Paddock rose lazily. "Why, yes—I guess so. You" "I'm a trusty, you know," tho man said, with a half laugh. I unlock the inside gate. Please como this way."

They passed tho outer gate, through the corridor, and then camo to tho tall barred door through which tho convicts pass lifter each meal. Hero Jarrett joined them. Ho was a tall, burly man, with great heavy shoulders, a massive head,and quick, keen eyos. They stood on one side whllo the men filed out, numbered, and at tho olang of a boll slowly dispersed In all directions ovor tho great stoneyard. "You see," Jarrett remarked, striding ahead of tho reporter, "tho yard's a quarry guarded on thrco sides by natural stono walls. On tho fourth—well, here's where Crandall had hidden his gun. Hero's whero ho crept up the earth wall. Hero's where my shot caught hlni, In tho shoulder, I think. Cut tho man's got tho luck of satan to back up his courage, for a general break of tho men on this

Bide

follow­

ed. Wo sottlod thorn protty quick, but Crandall—oh, what's tho uso of talkln of these things? They jest happen, and I'm bio wed If I know who's toblamo." Ho turnod away, swoarlng under his breath.

Paddock's languor had all disappeared back hero, whero tho men, with listless, lagging stop, crept ground tho sun baked stoneyard. Thoy wore llko so much lookod up capital, which tho state's hard tlmos had oondomnud to hoartbroaklng Idleness. Bolnft denied tho privilege of occupation, thoy talked Indifferently among themselves, becoming dumb and watchful at tho guard's approach, or tended their llttlo gardens which tho unwearying, laborious pationco of long, monotonous years had built up In the corner of tho rock. Here, in the most sheltered spot., which even tho hitter mountain storms had spared, was one little plot of green which more than tho others attracted Paddock's attention, for tho vines and bushes were fresh and thrifty, tho few vegetables wcro crisp and flourishing, and tho graceful xnorntng glories and sweot peas, aldod by the unpainted trellises and much knotted string, clambered high up on tho rooky walks. '•Yes,'' said Jarrett. ungraciously, "tho 'lucky garden' Is a pretty spot, but it'll be d-—d unlucky for tho next man who trie?* CrandaH's trick." "This was his garden?"

Jarrett nodded, it took him three mouths to gvi enough earth to make the bed ou tho ruck, and tho winter had come by the time ho'd managed to get it fenced In. But he toak moro pride in this bit of green. Ho know every blade of gnus, and not a bud could be picked without his nofcicin. 'Course none of tho 'cons' would touch a thing, but. we've visitors sometimes that haven't sense enough to bo out of jail. Yon'a the linnet Cmndall trappod." He lifted the clumsily fashioned wooden cage front its place among tho vine*, but nothing moved inside. "Hey, Jack!" Jarretft called to onoof the men, who came limping up. He touched his old bat.

Where's Cttuidall's linnet?" "It—got away," said tho man hesitatingly. "Got nwnv, did it?" repented Jarrett "Whenr "Don't Vnow. When I took tho garden —for the plants were a'mosfc dead for water—I lifted tho paper Crandall always pinned over the cage to keep tho hot sun off, ex pectin to see tho mad thing dash its silly rod head agin the bars and shriek till Its throat was boano. But the bird wm gone."

Jarrett nodded understandlugly. "Crandall not the bird lose befbm he xoade his hncak, I'll swear. Wish I'd a-knowu IV he said to the young man after they had toroed to re-enter the prison.

They passed through the cells till they oame to the one tbe murderer had occu pled It wemed to tbe yoong man thai the small, compact dsns were tainted, In •plte of the rigorous, institutional clean It nesa. He $r**ped and grew faint. Ho fol low^Jarrctt eagerly out of tho inolosure and drew a long free breath when they were onco mow in tho open. But, being young and miher inexperienced, he was aahamed of his emotion, and, what was worse to him, afraid thai it bad been re marked. Assuming an air of ferocity, he turned hU boyish, goodnattued face to the gmsd and said la his mott offhand mau

tough that tho powe had kl* 1%

ton camo. I'd liked mighty well to get a look at the fellow." "Ho!" laoghed Jarrett. You'd Ilka to be with the pome* Wall, that'll be easy aoough. Look yonder." He pointed oat toward the long, white, dusty road. "There eoroeof tham now. Hytaqr harva**

JiSllS:

got Crandall—and I'll bet the prattles! new six shooter yon ever saw thoy haven't —you join our party, which'll leave in an hour or bo.

They advanced to meet the group of men, who, still far off, threw out empty hnnrtn and shook their heads dlsoouiagingly. "Why didn't ye bring him along?" shouted Jarrett, grinning.

But the men were worn out with their long tramp over the bills. Tired and sleepy, their sense of humor oould not be counted upon. One of them answered Jarzett's question with a gesture—lips pursed,-eye-brows raised and palms turned upward. Another gave an inappreciative grunt as he passed on toward the prison. The third stopped Just long enough to deliver his messago. '•Say, Jarrett, warden says you're to join him at the lower end of Piute canyon. You're to bring two guards with you and to start's soon'e Mr. Franks comes back from town to take charge." "That'll be in half an hour. All right." He nodded to the man, who passed on wearily. "Now," he continued, turning to Paddock, "do you really want to come?" "Do II" "We'll take a llttlo lunch in a big hurry, get our guns—I'll show you that new one—and start."

The sun was setting when they reached Piute canyon. They had seen no trace of the warden's camp, but as they began the ascent of the ravine a man came out to meet them. Paddock's heart beat madly. His desire for excitement and peril was curiously confused with natural sympathy for tho under man In the fight. But the stranger proved to be a guard, stationed there to direct tho ro-enforcements farther up the canyon, whither a clew had guided the warden and his party. So they pressed on, leaving their horses in the man's care at tho foot of the ridgo, for the sides of the mountain sloped steeply. Conversation became difficult as they climbed, and they toiled on in silenoo till they had reached the summit and found the party. "We've got him this time," were the white haired warden's first words, his fine, benevolent face glowing in triumph. "He camped on this very spot last night. Burns and Davis are out now. If they don't find him, you and I'll do the business, Jarrett. He throw back his handsome head, smiling pleasantly.

They threw themselves upon the ground to rest, and the warden began to give to tho reporter tho particulars of the escape. He was interrupted by the arrival of the two guards. Thoy had found nothing. "Well, Jarrett, you, Wilson, Bennett and this young fellow, if he wants to, oome along with me. They took the trail up the mountain We'll just climb over tho hill yondor. On the other side the brush is thick, with the trail toward Hatton's ranch not far off. There we'll find Crandall If I'm not much mistaken."

Soon they were ready. Tho warden's enthusiasm had communicated Itself to his companions. Jarrett examined his new, long revolver lovingly, for ''Crandall Isn't tho man to go back for life without a fight." Wilson and Bennett marched on grimly, watching every bush, and Paddock followed, his brain in a whirl of excitement. Tho long twilight of the Bummer's day had passed. In tho dark, warm night they walked on softly, speaking only In whispers.

Tho young man's conflicting sentiments had yielded by this time to tho oxpootation, tho vigilant enthusiasm of tho rest of the party. Jitrrett's rifio, which tho reporter had taken for a moment while the former examined his pistol, he held unconsciously now with a firm grasp His nerves were PO strained that the slightest noise camo to him like a shook. When Jarrett touched hinj upon tho shoulder to tell him that the warden had called a halt, ho jumped norvously. Jarrett'sllps ourled beneath his heavy, dark rod mustache. Under cover of tho darkness ho did Hot try to concon' tho gleam of contempt in his small, keen eyes. "'We're hot on tho trail," ho whispered to Wilson. "Warden, Bennett,* and I'll go on down tho ravine. He"—pointing toPaddock—"had Ixjttor stay hero with you* whllo you watoh. He'll do loss damage^, hero than with us. A shot from us orr from you'll bo tho signal that Crandall'^ found."

Ho had spokon with his mouth olose to tho guard's oar. Wilson and Paddock stood In silence, watching till tho warden's party had disappeared. For along tlmo they waited, expecting very moment to hear tho signal. Tho young man's nervous trembling had passed away. Ho was eager for tho conflict.

Th'1

softer

ltThere!"

«ntiinonts hud

van­

ished. Only tho savage in him remained and longed for battle. After at ime ho could no longer bear inaction He envied tho guard his sentry's duty, which gavo-liim tho liberty of pacing up and down. The moon was just rising. Books and bushes took queer shapes In tho dim light, and from behind any of them Crandall might bo lurking. With a nod to tho guard, tho young man turned and climbed to tho top of tho hill. Far down a glimmer of light from tho broad moon tipped tho shining barrel of Jarrett'a pistol, which doubtless ho held cocked In his hand. Tho warden and his two men worv creeping cautiously along.

Paddock stood awhile. Then, rounding a turn in tho twisting trail, suddenly he camo upon the murderer crouched behind a groat rock, his eyes bent upon tho same gleam of steel that had attracted Paddock's attention. "Throw up your hands!" Paddock oom manded, his young voice vibrating with triumph. Suddenly, remembering Jarrett's rifle, which ho had forgotten in his excitcment, ho covered the man before him.

Surprised at this unexpected assault in the rear, the man jumped, turnod, bent for his gun—then obeyed. The defiance tn his haggard face yielded to a despairing consciousness of defeat.

They stood thus for a minute, the convict braced against the towering rock, one band above his head, the other bound in dirty cloth hanging limp at his side.

But as the young man's eyes met those other smoldering, hunted ones, only the rifle's length away, suddenly his other self awoke. Gradually his ordinary point of view presented Itself. He had Intenttod to be simply a spectator. What personal or resentment had ho to gratify? His most powerful feeling as they stood then: facing cach other In the dusky silence was one of astonishment to find himself in such a position.

He shifted tho rifle. 1 Crandall looked at him inquiringly. The young man reddened with cmbar-

1

fassmenti lie laughed shortly, niiteedly, lowered his rifle and walked fT, learteg the convict still star tg, one hand above h)$ head, almost pe,. kd with as taalahme&t.

Suddenly awakening from bis Eirn*e I toent to th* danger of his Cn" 6all glanced quickly to elt rfde. T! ha marfo toe the brush and disappeared

Aim York* tn Argonaut,

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAD"., AUGUST 18,1894.

A SWAME POET.

"The SL-tslley of Muskrat Swamp" lay dying In his bunk. There was no doubl about that whatever to any ordinary dispassionate observer. But the one observer, the solo critic of the moribund poet, was not dispassionate, and he refrained from obtruding the fact upon tbe notice of the sick youth. Outside the wind roared through the bush. The churned waters of tho angry Ottawa beat against the wopden piers, their rough music calling upon the youthful Shelley to depart through the valley of the shadow, although he knew it not.

Amid the howling of tne wind, the hoarse roar of tjto flood, the crackle of the logs upon the hfertb, came the soft silvery tones of tbe invalid reciting a moving composition which had occupied his attention for the last 10 hours—that is, when be was not otherwise occupied in spitting blood or coughing. The one oil lamp on a wooden stool by his bunk gave out a smoky light, through which the boy's eyes shono with unearthly brilliancy. Jake— Timber Jake, as ho was popularly known among the gentlemen whom he distinguished by his jovial preference—sat on the only other stool which the log hut boasted.

Now and then he threw In different suggestions as to the originality of the poet's natural history, suggestions which the latter received with petulent impatience. Though these contributions to the literature of his native land were invariably rejected, Timber Jake continued to listen to the poem with labored cordiality. At intervals, when he was evidently expected to applaud, he did so with a tin spoon against a battered old kettle, at the same time drawing the coverlet over the wasted arm which held the sheets of MS.

said the poet as he finished.

"Stop your infernal row for a moment. What do you think of that, Jake?"

4'Me

not beln a scholard," Jake replied

in slow, simple tones, as he dropped the spoon on the ground—"me not bein a soholard, you sez to me, ea between man and man, 'Jake, old pard, how does it pan out?' And I sez to you, me not bein a scholard, but ez between man and man: 'Bedrock, every darned line of it! Bedrock!' Thar's things there like the singin of robins in spring thar's things there like tho little flashes of light when dragon flies goes across the sunshine thar's things there ez Shakespeare oouldn't ha' done, or—or," he somewhat lamely added, "the Frisco Times, or. any of them mud colored ink slingers over the river."

The youth's oheek flushed warmly at this whole hearted eulogy. At the sound of it he turned momentarily away from the entrance to the valley of death. Then he shook his head and fell in the bunk, with a sigh. "Maybe, Jake," he said, "maybe, but for all that the durned old editor at Marysville won't print 'em unless they're paid for at advortisln rates. He sent back tho last lot sorter sarcastio, with his compliments to 'the Shelley of Muskrat Swamp,'and he wasn't takin any stock in poetry or chipmunks just then.

An ominous frown gathered on Timber Jake's brow. "Bein aonehoss concern, he nat'rally wouldn't know real high toned poetry whon he had it chuoked under his nose, the flapdoodle eatln slumgullion. You 'lowed just now ez you felt a sort of ohill when his arnsor came back?" "A death chill, Jake. Timber rafting begun it, and that Marysville ooon's sorter finished me up. Yes, I'm goin under. Don't you hear the river callin, callln, callin—come away?"

Jake gazed thoughtfully into the fire, with puzzled, simple eyes. He was a man who thought slowly,but who always acted with commendable promptness when he had once made up his mind. "I was ovor to Hutchinson's today," he resumed presently, "and the doo give me some stuff for you. I'll fix you up with a dose, and then you won't want anythin till the morn in. It's 11 o'clook now."

As he spoke ho poured some medlolne Into an old cracked tea cup and held it to rthe sick youth's lips. One arm stole gently round the boy, he was little more than a boy, who, with agleam of misohief in his great eyes, put up a thin white hand to the bronzed cheeks above him and gave them a oaresslng rub.

Jake was manifestly discomposed by this poetical exhibition of tenderness. "Quit yer foolin," he said huskily, "and drink this yere mixturo. It'll keep yer quiet till mornin."

Tho boy drank with difficulty. "Yes, Jake, I reckon it'll keep mo quiet till mornin. That's about tho time tho river leaves off callin."

Jake afTectvd not to hear this pessimistic remark, but talked on In wandering fashion until the boy's fair head fell back upon his arm. Then ho covered him up carefully, veiled the light of tho lamp with an old towel and drew a revolver from the shelf.

Tho wind, as it blew bqneath tho rude door of pine slabs, rustled tho papers about tho floor. Jake picked them up, bent over tho boy to make sure that the opiate had done its work and crept cautiously into tho darkness.

A low whinny of delight greeted him as he entered the narrow shanty which served for a stable. Without striking a light he saddled his brown mare, led her Into the trail and mounted. '•Now, old lady," he said, "you bet you havo got to hustle."

The mare whinnied again and broke into a long, swinging gallop. As she sped on through the darkness Jake sat squarely book in the saddle, tbe reins hanging loosely, and only stirring when a splash of water from the mare's flying hoofs wetted his chocks.

After an hour's hard galloping bis prac tlced eye detected alight in the distance. "Shoo I" ho said to his mare "Gently, lass, gently. We're a'most thar."

He drew rein on the outskirts at Marysville and tied tbe mate to a pine stump. Then ho cwfpt along tho one tumble down but in which there was light and peered through the window with a satisfied look.

Mr. Watson H. Bangs (Mr. Bangs comprised in his own person tbe editor, staff, "devil," printer, advertising agent and proprietor of tbe Marysville Gazette) was composing Saturday's leader, assisted in his consumption of tho midnight oil by j* bottle of whisky, which occupied one end of the table whero be sat. Every now and then bo snipped long paragraphs from "exchanges" on a bench at Ms side and laboriously pasted them together. Then he would march to the nearest "ease," pick np the type from various little boxes and throw them about with all the rapidity of a practiced juggler.

Suddenly tbe door opened and,Jake entered, dripping from the storm. Old Mr. Bangs made for the draper of a distant table In which his revolver lay hid. When be recognised his visitor, he abandoned all warlike intention*, casting a* She same time a reluctant giaaoe a* the

...c ipi

whisky bottle, as if uncertain how long it would Iwld out against the newcomer's attacks.

Jake slid into tbe editorial chair after oarefully closing the door, and old man BangB, with a reluctant nod in the direction of the bottle, went on with his task. "Sit down," said Jake briefly, pointing to a chair and declining the implied invitation.

Old Ttiaw Bangs sat down and refreshed himself with a pull at the bottle. "It's a nice sort of night at the Four Corners," be said oheerfully. "I guess, if the river keeps on risin, old Hutchinson will be drowned out afore mornin." "Mebbe," said Jake "There's a sort of yarn, when the river's that high," said old man Beings, lighting a pipe, "there's a sort of yarn when the river rises suddenly it carries away a soul with the mornin light. But I reckon you non't take.no stock in such dum foolishdess?" "Reckon I do," said Jake, still speaking without a sign of resentment. "Reckon I do. That's why I've come down." "Jusso,"said old man Bangs, puffing away with undiminished composure. "Jusso. What's up, Jake?"

Jake carefully laid his revolver on the table. Old man Bangs realized that his visitor meant business and had him at a disadvantage.

Some folks at the Four Corners allow ez this yere paper of yourn ain't high toned,' said Jake carelessly. "You don't put on frills enough."

Old Man Bangs looked longingly at the table drawer. "Guess I could put more tone into the conversation if I'd the usual seat," he said significantly and went on smoking. "Mebbe, said Jake, "mebbe." He laid the papers ho had brought with him on tho table. "Some of the folks at the Corners was wishful of a little native talent in this one hoss paper of yourn. They allowed, mebbe, you orter take more stock in poetry and native produce, such ez straddle bugs and chipmunks and things." "All the fools at Corners ain't dead yet," said o'd man Bangs savagely. ''Mebbe," said Jake. "I 'lowed ez they was wrong. 'Yer don't give old man Bangs a chance,' I sez to 'em. 'He's well meanln, IS old man Bangs, but yer don't givo him a chance. Now, if I was to sorter drop in on him permiskusllke and ask him to give native talent a show,' I sez, 'why, old man Bangs would be right thar.' So they 'lowed I'd better try."

Old man Bangs, with studied composure, stretched out his hands and took up the papers on the table. He recognized a note in his own spidery writing, which Jake had pinned on the top. "I kinder told 'em," said Jake, speaking with slow insistence, I kinder told 'em ez I'd only to take old man Bangs down some native produce and he'd rear up on end and print it straight off."

Old man Bangs rose without a word, walked to tho composing case and rapidly began to ''set up" the verses which Jake had brought, his fingers flying with all the precision of machinery. After half an hour's hard work he screwed up the type in a "form," took a "pull" and brought it to Jake, who laboriously spelled through tho words, still keeping one hand on his revolver and criticising tho spelling with a sublimo disregard for conventional methods. "Will that do?" growled old man Bangs, •with sullen resentment at his enforced labor.

Jake gazed admiringly at the poem so rapidly called into being. Sorter protty, ain't it? I'll tell the folks at the Corners yoi$ aip't no slouch when you get achanco at native produce," he added admiringly.

He tuckcd the printed paper oarefully away into his vest pocket and sprang for the door. Old man Bangs rushed for his revolver in the drawer of the,distant table, and, with a doxtority acquired, by long practice, took a flying shot at Jake as he disappeared, then blew out tho light and waited for reprisals, but nono came.

The brown mare scented her master as he crawled slowly through the darkness and hauled himself with difficulty into tho saddle. "Gently, Winny, gently," he said. "Guess you'd bettor crawl sorter keerful. Old man's planted a bullet in my arm. He allers shoots straight when he's blind drunk."

The mare walked with her burden as it swayed from side to side. Something warm ran down her flank and made her start. For tfyree hours she paoed slowly along tho narrow path, halting every now and then when her rider clung to the saddle and groaned, for he was faint from loss of blood. The wind fell as suddenly as it had risen. Through tho straight trunks of the pines the swollen river glimmered here and there with faint streaks of light. A rift in the sullen sky betokened tho coming dawn. With careful steps the mare plodded otiward, halting now and again to look round at her master, who motioned ber on with a feeble wavo of his hand.

When they reached tho clearing, Jake slid out of the saddle and crawled into the hut, leaving his mate standing at the door. Seizing a whisky bottle, he drank long and eagerly, then propped himself up on his stool by the boy's bunk and tightened his sash. '"It's sorter lucky that old coon missed the papers,'' he muttered and waited. "I'm all right now my arm's stopped blood In."

Presently a ray of sunlight stole into the hut, and the shadows fled away before the cheerful singing of the birds.

The boy awoke, with a glad little cry. ''Jake, where are you? Jake, I've had such a dream."

Something white glistened on the rude blanket. "Ja— Why, snakes alive, Jake, how did this oome here?"

He fell to reading the verses with delirious enjoyment. A soft pink flush came into his cheek. "Why, Jake, they're printed! 'Song to a Chipmunk, by our gifted fellow townsman, the Shelley of Muskrat Swamp!'

A fit of coughing interrupted him. Jake, leaning back that the boy could not see his face, lied with tranquil indifference: ®'0h, old man Bangs oome up after you'd dropped off." "Yes, Jake, yesf" "He printed 'em and brought 'em over and planned dowp a $10 bilL Here's tbe money."

Tho boy gave another cry. ''Jake, Jake, that's fame! Hang the money! Where is it?"

Jake handed him the money with difficulty. The boy pressed it to bis feverish up*, "Jake, Jake, there's blew on it! Wha"—

Jake tried to raise his head, but in vain. A little later the mare, alarmed at her master's silence, thrust open the door with her velvet muscle and walked into the hut. Tbe dead boy lay on the arm of his friend, and Jake, with a rode piety natural in one unacquainted with conventional frurrm, was conducting an improvised but lurid funeral service over the remains of Ibe Shelley of Muskrat Swamp."—St. Louis Gtobe-Dwpocrafc.

The hair, when not properly oared for. loses its lustre, becomes crisp, harsh, and dry, and falls out freely with every oombing. To prevent this, tbe bet dressing^in the market is Ayer's Hair Vigor. It imparts that sllkv gloss so essential to perfeet beautv.

NERVE AND A SHARP KNIFE.

Aa Unprecedented and Exquisitely Delleate Surgical Operation.

For the first time on record the surgeon's sharp pointed knife has penetrated to the pancreas and saved a man's life. The operation was recently performed at the Hahnemann hospital. Some great surgical work is performed at this hospital, but there is a strict understanding that operations shall not be reported to the lay world, and that the name of the subject shall never be given out. The subject this time was a well to do merchant, who paid the surgeon a very large sum for his marvelous skill

There was a hard lump just below the patient's stomach. His stomach pained him, and his digestion was not good. The lump kept growing. His doctor made a cut in the abdomen and saw that the lump was beyond the reach of ordinary surgery. The merchant would probably die.

One of the surgeons at the Hahnemann hospital said he would like to make another slit in the abdomen, believing he might succeed in removing the lump. If he did, it might kill the merchant just the same, but if something was not done he would die anyway.

So the merchant took the last chanoe. A 8 inch slit was made, and the surgeon deftly ran his fingers down under the stomach and found a lump as large as his fist attached to the pancreaa The pancreas is about 5 inches long, an inch in thickness and 2 inches broad. From the fact that it digests all of the fata taken into the system tbe pancreas is a highly important organ of a human being.

When the cut arteries had been clamped mid the physicians had sponged away the blood and then realized the enormous size of the object clinging to the pancreas like a toadstool to a log, they thought tho case was hopeless. But the operating surgeon still kept up his nerve. It is not the place of an operating surgeon to lose his nerve. As he surveyed the situation he know that if he cut away even tho slightest segment of the pancreas the merchant was done for. Only by the very nicest calculation could the right cuts be made. He sponged off the blood and went to work. One and then another incision of the blade, and the cyst, filled with its horrible fetid matter, was removed, having been lopped neatly off just whero it was joined to tho pancreas.

In a few days the patient was on his feet again and said ho felt liko anew man. And now the physicians aro wondering how many men have died from lumps in their stomachs who might have been saved and just how far the surgeon's knife may be offeqtive again in an operation on the pancreas.—New York World.

A Japanese Bribe.

Seaweed has not even in our wildest moments ever been dreamt of as an instrument of electoral corruption, yet the Tokyo newspapers just at hand contain an account of tho trial of a member of tho Japanese parliament who was accused of bribery by corrupting his constituents with presents of edible soaweed.

For Nervousness and Dyspepsia Use Horsford's Acid phosphate. Dr. C. GRAHAM, Chicago, 111., says: "I have used it for years in cases of nervous exhaustion, insomnia and certain kinds of dyspepsia, and would be at a loss to find in the whole materia medica anything which would take its place and give as satisfactory results in tbe above mentioned disorders."'

There Is Merit

tm Hood's Sarsnparilta. I know lt because in dose me good. I was in a bad oondlttm

John R. Lochary, Roxbury, Ohio.

Witb Rmt Stomach, Heart Pnlpltaiiss, BM Flashes. Since taking Hood's Sarsapar rllla I am as well ss ever. I give Hood's 8arall the credit. I took DO Other medicine. John B, Lockaby, Boxbury, Ohio.

Hood's^ Cures

Hood's Pills rapidly taking the lead.

AIELIEIBBS1BINK

.=|SIUMI.riN|= ^1 llbPAGMGES 1=

MANY FIC PREJMMS GNSN FPEE TO DfUNKERS OF LION COFFEE

8®

is®™'

Railroad Time Table?.

Trains marked thas(P) have Parlor O&is Trains marked thus (8V have sleeping Cars. Trains marked thus (B) have Buffet Car. Trains marked thus (V) have Vestibule Care. Trains marked (D) have Dining Car. Trains marked thus (f) run Sundays only. Trains marked thuB run dally. All other trau run dally, Sundays excepted.

•V^2TJDJLTjTJL LI3STB.

MAIN LINE.

LKAVE FOR THX WKST.

No. 7 Western Ex» (V4S) 1.40 a No. 5 St. Louis Mall 10.11 am No. 1 Fast Line* (P) 2.20 pm No. 21 St. Louis Ex* & 8 8 1 0 No. 18 Eff. Acc 4.05 No. 11 Fast Mall* 9.01

ARRIVE FROM THE WKST.

No. 12 Cincinnati Express (8) ... 1.20 a No. 6 New York Express (VAS). 2.10 a No. 14 Effingham Ac 9.80 a No. 20 Atlantic Express (DPVAS) 12.42 No. 8 Fast Line 2.05 No. 2 Indianapolis Acc 5.00 pm

LEAVE FOR THE EAST.

.No. 12 Cincinnati Express (S) 1.39 am No. 6 New York Express

(V&S).

2.20 a

No. 4 Mall and Accommodation 7.15 a No. 20 Atlantic Express (DPVAS) 12.47 No. 8 Fast Line 2.20 No. 2 Indlauapolis Acc 5.06

ARRIVE FROM THE EAST.

No. 7 Western Express (V«&S). 1.30 a No. 5 St. Louis Mall* 10.05 a No. 1 Fast Line"" (k*) 2.05pm No. 21 SU Louis Ex* (DV AS) .... 8.05 No. 3 Mail and Accommodation 6.45 pm No. 11 Fast Mall 9.00

MICHIGAN DIVISION.

LEAVE FOR THE NORTH.

No. 52 St. Joseph Mall 8.20 No. 66 St Joseph Express 1.00 No. 54 St, Joseph Express 4.0U

ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH.

No. 51 South Bend Express 11.45 a No. 58 St. Joseph Mail 7.80

PEORIA DIVISION.

LEAVE FOR NORTHWEST.

No. 75 Peoria Mail 7.05 a No. 77 Decatur Accommodation 8.25 ARRIVE FROM NORTHWEST. No. 78 Decatur Accommodation 11.00 a No. 76 Peoria Mall 7.00

ZE3. Sc T. NASHVILLE LINE.

LEAVE FOR SOUTH.

No. 3 Ch & Ev Ex* (SAP) 5.00 am Nr. 1 Ev. A Ind. Mall* &15 No. 5 Ch AN Llm* V&S 10.05 No. 7 Ev. Accommodation 10.20 a

ARRIVE FROM SOOTH.

No. 6 C. A Nash Llm* (VAS) .4.45 am No. 2 T. H. A East Ex* 11.15 a No. 4 Ch A Ind Ex* (SAP) 11.15 No. 80 Mixed Accommodation 4.45

35. Sc I- __

LEAVE FOR SOUTH.

No. 88 Mall A Ex 8.50 am No. 49 Worth'n Mixed 8.30 ARRIVE FROM SOUTH. No. 48 Mixed 10.15 a No. 82 Mall A Ex ..4.20 pm

O- &c ZED. I.

LEAVE FOR MOUTH.

No. AC AN Llm*(DVAS). ... 4.60a'm No. 2 A Ch Ex U.25 a No. 8 Local Passenger 3.20

ARRIVE FROM NORTH.

No. 7 Local Passenger 0 30 a No. IChAEvKx 1.45 pm No. SCAN Llm*(DVA8) 10.U0

C. Ci- C. &c I.-BIQ- 4r.

OOINO EAST

No. 10 Cincinnati AWash Ex«SP 1.82 a No. 2 Indianapolis A Cincinnati. ,7.10 am No. 18 Southwestern LI mi ted*

CINCINNATI

SDPV. 12.68

No. 8 Day Express A Mall 8.42 No. 4 arrives from Mattoon 9.30am OOINO WEST. No. 7 St. LouisFlyer'SP 1.32 am No. 9 Day Express A Mall* 10.00 a No. 17 South western Limited* SDPV .1.48 No. 5 Mattoon Express 0.00 No. 8 arrives from Indianapolis 8.15 pm

THE BE8T LINE TO

AND THE

SOUTH

THE DIRECT LINE TO

MICHIGAN RESORTS

TRAINS EVERY DAY TO

MICHIGAN RESORTS.

LOW RATE ROUND-TRIP TICKETS TO

Mackinaw, Petoskey, Omena, Bay Port, Mt. Clemens, Alma, Huronla Beach, Sault St. Marie,

St. Clair Springs, The Mettawas.

ALSO TO

Niagara Falls, Montreal, Toronto, Thousand Islands.

For full Information call on any C. H. & D. Agent

D. C. EDWARDS, Otineral Pa»»«n(ior Ag«nt, Oflrrw Building, Cincinnati^ O.

DE. R. W. VAN VALZAH,

IDZEHSTTIST

Office, No. 5 South Fifth Street.

A. NISBET.

UNDERTAKER,

28 NORTH FOURTH-STREET, All call* will receive tbe moat careful attentlon. 0pm day and night.

JTamkh L. Pan is, Jameh H. Caldwklx, Attorney at Law and Collector and Notary Public. I Real Estate Broker.

PHICE& CALDWELL,

Room 2 Patton"* Block,

408 Ohio St., Terre Haote, Ind.

DR

GEO. MABBACH,

GROUND FLOOR DENTAL PARLORS. 124 8 onti» Sixth Street.

gANT 0. DAVIS, Attorney-at-Law,

420% Wabash Ave., In McLean'*Building. X^BE SABTK, IND,