St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 12, Number 2, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 10 July 1886 — Page 1
VOLUME Nil.
THE BLIND GIRL'S GOOD-NIGHT. BY WM. HAUGHTON. They say I’m blind. These sightless orbs are dead. And quenched, and dark, and cold to heaven’s sweet light; Kind hands are laid in blessing on my head, And fond lips tremble as they kiss good-night. Good-night, good-night I What mean these words to me, Around whose couch His chastening hand hath drawn Perpetual darkness, and whose life must be A long, long night, that waits an endless dawn ? Good-night, good-night t A sister’s tears fell warm upon my face, As her dear lips, in parting, pressed 1115’ own ; I could have wept to meet that kind embrace, 1 Sad with her sorrow, else to me unknown, A father’s hand in blessing sought my brow. A mother lingered in the nightly prayer, Their parting footsteps linger round mo now, And thrill the night with forms divinely fair. Good-night, good-night I Bereft of light—yet not of heaven bereft, And, not of love, whose lamp forever burns— She bends beside me, w hen alone I'm left. And gilds the darkness till the dawn n turns. I kiss the hand that holds the chastening rod ; My cross is painless and my burden light; I lean upon thy heart, O pitying God, And waitthe morrow witlFthe hist good-night. Good-night, good-night I Viroqua, Wis. I FAIRVIEW--33 30 R,(-F33 One Dreadful September Night. A Thrilling Tale of Love, Crime, and Retribution. By JAMES FRANKLIN FITTS. CHAPTER I. In various -ways and by many different persons I have been informed that there exists what maybe called a popular demand here, in the vicinity of my residence, that I should plainly set down, with my own hand, some account of the very remarkable events that have befallen me and mine during the past few months. They have been, it may easily I e conceded, events entirely outside of the usual happenings of such a locality as this, and they are such as people of average curiosity everywhere might well feel interested in. Still, I have been inclined to treat these requests, as one after another they have come to me, as mere manifestations of vu'gar curiosity. Possibly I have turned some away with short answers who came to me upon this errand. Perhaps some little irritation has manifested itself in the treatment that some of these callers have received. Yesterday, however, the subject was brought to my attention by Wilson Warner. Esq., the prosecuting attorney of the county (and whom I have learned to regard as a very good friend of myself ), in away that has changed my views in regard to the propriety or necessity of my becoming the narrator of these events for print. “Somebody must do it,” said Mr. Warner. “and who can do it so well as you?” “It has already been done,” was my reply. “Have not the papeis been full of it for the last month? What more would you hikve?” “What the people want about this business, my dear sir,” said the brisk little lawer, “is the truth. It is very true that the press—even the press of the great cities—has made your name, and that of one who is very’ deal- to you, famous all over the country. The story as it has been thus published is a truly remarkable one; but there is a decided feeling that, in all its details, the story is not known. Perhaps I myself know as much of it as any person other than yourself and that one of whom I just spoke—for you know that I took great pains to get thorough information when it seemed that a criminal prosecution was necessary (as, indeed, such may yet be), but I confess that there are points in the whol’e affair that I do not yet understand, which really ought to be cleared no. Now, if / feel this way, you can certainly excuse the curiosity of the people at large on the subject. ” “Mr. Warner,” I replied, with some irritation, “it seems to me that I have had notoriety enough. Pardon me for not wishing to extend it by publishing to the world my version of this matter.” “Notoriety you have had, and are bound to have. No man who has passed through what you have can escape it. As you know, by a thousand tongues and by a hundred pens these events have been, and are daily being, reported, and, as you know, in material parts misreported. Is it not worth while now, while the memory of them is fresh and vivid, to state them yourself in the form in which you would desire to have them liv“>?” “The labor will be an irksome one to me,” I protested. “Happiness has come to me and mine—l trust, to stay. We are content, for ourselves, that people should get the best version they can of the things you speak of. We are rich, respec ed, and happy. Why should we bother ourselves about whether Tom, Dick, and Hany are in all respects correctly informed as to what has lately happened to us?” “If you spoke for yourself and your wife alone,” observed Mr. Warner,“there would be some force in your position. But you cannot speak in this way for you two alone, i lam looking forward to the days when I shall hold your offspring on my knee, and to the days still beyond, when they will be ft ' growing up around you, and when they * will be entitled to receive from you that ■ most precious heritage-—the good name of their parents. Can you then, I ask, con- ■ sidering the welfare of your childern un- ■ born, trust the permanent narrative of l these strange happenings to the tongues or 1 hands of third persons?” The argument moved me at once. We E were sitting in the library of this stately I and luxurious mansion of Fairview, the ■ rich furniture and costly appointments of which were but patterns of what prevailed throughout the great house. Through the half-opened door a glimpse could be had f of the. luxurious and spacious parlors, filled with everything that could make home attract ve. Somewhere there, beyond my sight, there was one sitting at the piano who had been referred to in our conversation, for I heard the notes of the instrument mingled with her own sweet, flute-like voice, in the touching strains of ■ “Kathleen Mavourneen." I looked from t the window past the tall, graceful elms that j fronted the mansion, over the hundred 1 acres of meadow and woodland that formed this beautiful domain—Fairview, indeed, it was!—and the thought that a 1 ! this, and the other wealth that was ours, would one day 1 pass to our descendants took possession of Bk my mind. And was not Mr. Warner right? Was it not my duty— her duty—to leave Hi behind us so plain, so truthful a record of these things that had befallen us that no fl clouded name could possibly pass to our fl children; that the tongue of slander, the fl breath of suspicion, could not successfully fl assail them when we should have passed j away?
COU N T V St. Infejb sOa JMeiwniifiwr
I had never before viewed the matter in this light, but now the idea took complete possession of me. “I’ll think es it, Warner; I’ll think of it,” was my answer. “Delighted I am to hear you say so,” and the lawyer rubbed his hands gleefully. “It will be about as exciting a chapter of real life as one would wish to read. I shall always congratulate myself (because I know you’ll do it) upon being the humble inst ument in securing the truthful and complete record of this business for the public. Don’t delay it; strike while the iron's hot!” CHAPTER 11. When he had left the house I passed through the library aud entered the parlor. The song ceased, the piano became still; a girlish, graceful figure rose from the stool and met me with outstretched hands and beaming eyes. Beautiful as she was then, beautiful as she will always be to me, there had been something in the lawyer’s serious words that had turned my thoughts away from her, back upon the brief but stirring past in which we two had figured, and led me to contrast it with the unutterable joy and peace that now filled my life. My arms opened to her; they clasped her close to my heart; her fair brown head lay trustfully upon my shoulder: her deep blue eyes looked lovingly up to mine. A silent, heartfelt prayer went up in that moment from a breast two full for utterance, that so it might be in all the years to come; that the lurid, tempestuous days'and nights of sharp trial and of final triumph that had so strangely brought us together and united our destinies might never more return, and that the happiness in which these present hours found us might be an abiding guest. Amen and amen! She had learned already to translate the expression of my face, and something that she now discovered there troubled her. “What is it, Harvey?” she asked. “What has Mr. Warner been saying to you? Nothing unpleasant, I hope. ” In a few words I told her just what he had said. A quick shudder convulsed her; she closed her eyes, and for a moment lay still and passive in my arms. “I hate the past,’’she said, at length, with a passionate outburst such as sometimes showed what a soul of fire dwelt in that slight frame. “Often I think it is all a dream; and, but that you. my husband, have come to me out of it, I should be sure it is nothing but a horrid nightmare. Why must we always think of it? Why must these people forever talk to you about it? Surely, could fhey know how happy we are, they would not wish to plague us with questions about those dreadful weeks and their see es.” Her slender white fingers covered her face, as if to shut from her sight the specters conjured up by her own words. To tell her all that Mr. Warner had said—to give to her, the young bride of a month, the forcible reason that had impressed me with the belief that his request should be complied with, was a delicate task; and when I had given her that reason a blush covered her face, and it was hidden again upon my shoulder. She was silent for a long time, and I gently asked: “What say you, Paula? I will do nothing without your consent.” Her eyes again sought my face. They were filled with serene faith. “My husband, you know best.” I kissed her fondly. “But, Pan'a, this is not quite all. So clearly has the lawyer put this matter tome —so certiin I am that it is no less than a solemn duty to put the whole truth and all its details in a form that will protect those who will come after us, and vindicate our own memories, that in this last half-hour the wish has possessed me that the story might be told as perfectly as may be. Your face tells me that you understand what this means. You know that there are parts of the tale that I cannot tell. I can guess them; so can others; there is only one who can tell them perfectly? Shall it all be told?” She did understand me; a deep sigh told me that my meaning was plain to her. “Do you really wish it, Harvey?” “I greatly wish it; but rather than give you pain, we will dismiss the subject, and never more speak of it. Do as you please. If yon can join me in this labor we will together tell the story as it never has been told; as it ought to be told; and we can than feel that a duty has been performed that would clamor at us all our lives for performance, and perhaps haunt us in our moments of deepest pleasure. With this done, we can cast forever behind us the ghostly figures, the appalling scenes that start out of the shadows of the past; we can forget it a'l—all, save that, by dismal, storm-beaten roads, and through thick darkness, we two wandered out into the sunshine of love and happiness. It is the voice of duty, Paula, that appeals to us! So it seems to me. Yet, my beloved wife, choose for youiself. I may be wrong; your finer sense may correct me.” And she, clasping my neck with her arms, drew my face down to her and tenderly kissed me. “I will do it, Harvey,” she simply said, “because you wish it.” This is how the present narrative comes to be written. CHAPTER 111. This is to be an exact history. All that there is in my life of particular moment—and the record embraces a very brief period —is to be told with the most scrupulous exactness. Let it be understood, then, that this is no mere literary effort. Here will be no attempt at “fine writing;” no florid descriptions of natural scenery: no sentimental reflections; no eloquent passages. Those who are fond of romance because romance embraces such things, must seek them in the pages of romance. I have to deal simply with stern facts, and if I ever check the onward current of my narrative to speak of my own thoughts or feelings, it will be only because the situation will call for such an expression. And first, of myself. My name is Harvey Minton; my age is thirty; I have been an orphan since I can remember. The grudging charity of a maternal uncle for whom I was named educated me; and with my graduation at college came a cold but polite note from my wealthy relative inclosing a check for one hundred dollars, expressing the satisfaction of the writer that I had so well improved my opportunities, and distinctly informing me that I need expect no more aid from him. The letter stung me; but it stimulated me as well. My uncle might have notified me of his intentions in kinder terms, I thought; but no matter; he should see that his nephew did him no discredit. I wrote a note in reply, thanking him for his kindness, and that closed all communication between us. To-day I know not whether he is alive or dead —whether in the wide world I have a living relative by blood. And what matter? Have I not Paula? What should I do in life? There could be but one answer to this question. Almost from boyhood I had been captivated by the desire to be a physician. I had become an enthusiast in this direction. The unutterable toil, the wearines? the —long days of labor And nights devoid of vase, which must ever be the attendants of this most useful of all professions, weighed as nothing with me. In brief, this was my chosen field; I was an enthusiast in it; taste, natural desire, everything,joined to place mo in this path. An^ it was no chance, no mere accident inat controlled
WALKERTON; ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA. SATURDAY, JULY 10, 1886.
my choice. Very clearly do I now see, as the reader will presently see, that 1 had a destiny to fulfill: that other lives were to bo powerfully influenced by mine; and that in this sphere only could the results be accom; lished that I have attained. The struggle was a hard one. For a penniless adventurer such as I was to win a liberal profession which would qualify me to go forth and successfully compete with the wealthy, the learned, and the powerful upon their own chosen ground, and win success among them, was the task of a 1 Hercules. My struggles, my poverty, my daily and nightly Battlings for success in I these years, are not here to be described; I [ am but one of thousands who have prevailed over Thus - twin jail th of the daring heart, Low birth and iron fortune. My long course at the university was at last ended, and though I did not carry off the first honors of my class, my name stood high on the roll, and I had the satisfaction of knowing that my diploma was deserved. There was but one of my class to whom I felt particularly drawn. He was a carej less, merrv fellow, Albert Winfield by j name, whose aversion to study was almost balanced by an occasional spurt of industry with which he would pull up on his standing. To the others I bade farewell without particular emotion; with this man, as we stood together in the mingled shade and moonlight under the old elms of the campus' the night before we were to quit the place it was hard to part. He was to go east—l west; when and where should we meet again? “It’s a question neitherof us can answer, Harvey," he replied, as Tasked it; “but there is something within me that says that one of us two is to be of great service to the other before we have run our race. J Presentiments are not natural to me; but so sure do I feel of this, that I part with you with the absolute certainty of meeting you agiin in this life, and meeting you at a time and under circumstances when one of us, at least, shall be greatly gladdened by the meeting. Well, good-by, Harvey.” “Good-by, old fellow." We wrung both hands, and parted. Not for the world would I have envied the better fortune of my dear friend: but sleepless as that night found me, being about to launch out upon the world in a new and untried career, it was natural for me to contrast the difference of our situations and prospects. He, by the favor and influence of powerful relatives, stepping from the class-room into the berth of physician to a first-class European steamer; I. resorting to an unknown village, there to begin my laborious task of working up in my profession, with nothing to fa or me at the start but the brief letter of introduction given me by one of the professors to one of the resident physicians. I did not know how prophetic were the words of Albert Winfield. Well for my peace of mind that I did not; CHAPTER IV.I Not only did the kind old professor give me a letter of introduction, as stated, but it was upon his suggestion that I chose the village of Berkeley as the field of my future professional labors. “I don’t know very much of the place myself, Mr. Minton,” he said. "I was never there but once, and then only for a halfday’s stop. But I learn that there are but two physicians in the p’ace, and tiie population ought to bear another. You must take life rough-and-tumble at the start, you know; and Berkeley will probably be as good a location as any for a beginner. Wait a moment, and I will write you a letter to present to Beaumont. " The Professor wrote off a few lines, placed them in an envelope which he addressed to “Dr. Alexis Beaumont." and handed the inclosure to me. Then he threw himself back in his chair, and went on talking in a musing kind of way. “That is the name," he said, of ] erhaps the most brilliant fellow that this school ever graduated. He had the name of being dissij ated while here; but for all that he left us ten years ago more proficient in physics and surgery than any man who lias yet taken our diploma. He went to Berkeley, has been there ever since, and lias the name of being very successfu'. Go and seo him. Minton; he ought to receive you kindly, if only out of remembrance of his alma mater. ” On the following morning I bade farewe’l to the university and set my face toward Berkeley. A railroad journey of an i entire day brought me to my destination. I reached it at ten o’clock in the night. I ' was tired, and postponed any examination of the place till the next day. After break- ' fast I sallied foith from the hotel, and in . the course of a long walk made a mental ’ estimate of my new home which afterward 1 appeared to be substantially correct. It was a small place of possibly three thousand inhabitants. An old place, apparently, to judge from the antique architecture of some of the mansions that stood back J from the street. Two large factories denoted the industries of the village. There were many dwellings of the poorer class. ’ The situation was a beautiful one, at the ? foot of a gradual rise of meadow and woodland, which, half a mile away, was crowned by a noble mansion, the name of which, as I was told upon inquiry, was Fairview. Ay, Fairview! now our home, where I sit writing this narrative. An hour’s stroll I through the village and its surroundings , gave me the impression that, like mostvil--3 lages, it had its select circle of wealth and ’ aristocracy and its larger population of the 3 poor, the needy, and the struggling. ’ My general curiosity satisfied, I inquired ’ for Dr. Beaumont’s residence, and was di- ’ rected to a pretty cottage in the Queen ! Anne style of architecture, fronted by a ’ large flower-garden. A fountain played , before the door, flanked on each side by , statuary; everything gave evidence that the occupant possessed both wealth and taste. 1 The girl who answered my ring took the Professor’s letter, and invited me into a little parlor. Sha returned in a moment to say that Doctor Beaumont was just then J engaged, but would see me in a few minutes. ! I took a chair and waited. r 1 t CHAPTER V. That I was not in that house as an eaves- , dropper or a spy—that I could have had no r object in playing such a part—the reader - who has followed me thus far will readily [ believe. What I overheard was disclosed 3 to me by accident alone; and it seems ex--3 ceeding strange that, considering the situs ation, anything could have been overheard. ; The door leading into the room next be--3 yond was but sl.riitly ajar; the persons who 1 were conversing (two of them, apparently), - spoke in ordinary conversational tones, and 1 not once in a high key; and I sat much r nearer the ha’l through which I had just e been admitted than to the door of this inner room. Ordinarily I should have heard no more than a confused murmur of voices, 1 without an intelligible word. How, then, - was it that every word of that fifteen min--1 utes’ talk reached me as plainly as though - it had been spoken but three feet away? e There is but one explanation that can be given. It must be that this was one of those houses which, through some accident of aroiiitecture, have walls and ceilings s constructed like sounding-boards, and so h convey spoken words and betray secrets in y the most surprising manner. ; This is what I heard: 0 A rustle of paper, as if my letter was 0 being examined. 1 । “Humph! Letter of introduction iron)
that old fool, Prof. , recommending ' some young squirt of a medical graduate to me. Excuse mo a minute, and I’ll dispose of him in short order.” “No—be can wait; I’m in a hurry. You saw the old man last night?” “Yes.” “What do you think? Do you see any change?” ■ “To tell the truth, very little. He’s feei bio, as he has been for months, as any bed- | ridden person always i ; but I don’t perceive any sensible diminution of the vital powers. My diagnosis ” “Oh, fiddlesticks with your infernal doctor’s jargon! Talk plain English, and tell me if my respected uncle is likely to last a month yet.” "In plain English, then, he is; perhaps three of them. ” “Damnation!” A brief pause followed this hot and passionate ejaculation. Th^n the voices began again: “But really, Clayton, I don’t understand the meaning of your basjc and impatience in this matter. While it 1^ u'.ie that your uncle may live for some months yet, it is equally true that he can hardly hu-t a year. His constitution is broken down; the natural decay of old age must ep. >dily carry him off. In the meantime, your position can't well be better. or your mother I are his only heirs, in possession of every- I thing, receiving his rents and managing his i affairs just as though everything was already your own. When the pear is ripe, it wi 1 fa 1 of its own weight; and in the meantime you've only to watch it.” "Indeed! Suppose I should tell yon. Doctor Beaumont, that 1 have lately felt very much like shaking the tree myself '” The deliberate emphasis with which Iho words were spoken, ns well as (he horrible suggestion which they conveyed, sent a cold shiver through my veins, A low whistle from the other speaker greeted the remark. [to be contini ep | Short Smile*. The largest revolver known—the earth. The question of the hour “What time is it?” Thf. most sarcastic foreign potentate the Dey of Al-Jn r.s, A st v-MEH election "We'll go to the mountains' Ujis '■ .^on." A wood-cut of Geor : ■ Wnshingtonhis famous bn k at the cherry tree. It don't inquire “nine tailors to make a man" an ill-fitting suit of clothes. One botch is enough. This month, the popular stream for lovers’ moonlight rows will doubtless be the i river Junt -iatn. Soon tlio hhiiHl boy from his hco:lets Will his little shiMHies pet 1. Ami develop, coing i> r< so >t. A big stone-lmiiHe < 11 bis li< el! This is the favoriU month with bak< rs who cheat in weight, because it is the strawberry “short cake” period. I’nr.siDENT t’I.EVELAND should always be open aud alrnve bond mth his wife, for she till ever be Frank to him. 1 he l oot never lies, but stands in its bed ; The tnt< r emi t climb up its hill; The corn has no sense, yet often is shocked, And lettuce It lives while it stays still “The Fra Loit~nhun .if the Dude" When two seh' >l-girls tl islv named refuse to flirt with amn ! . "slim Since Gladstone's defeat, instead of “Home Rule’’ for the Emerald Isle, it looks like a continuance of "Rule Britannia.” "A house divided against itself cannot stand”—the racket very long without u family lawsuit for partition of property. S vi.l.lE (dressing’, now t.> find her Corset cords doth madly wi-h; Little brother Jiunuie’K taken 'Em to string his c itch of fish! Smitheekins calls his mule "Maxwelton.” His nightly disturbed neighbors say it cannot be because the animal's “brays are bonny.” Inquirer: No, me boy: the principal character in the opera of "'1 he Little Tie- ' Coon” is not "a diminutive minister who । unites darky wedding couples.” “Here’s a fra m 'un worthy of my sh al." as the ti .mp said when he feloniously lugged off a frothing schooner of beer from i a momentarily unwatehed Lar. Detectives who follow the cniinmil’s scent Are o,ten termed “sleuth hounds" when on I tiie trail bent: So ’tis in hot weather their needs should amaze, Eor i f course they're more skilled in August “rloy-duvs !" Ir the slang term for a drink of rye whisky is a “ball,” then of course a gang of intoxicated loafers must be a rye-balled . crowd. (P. S.—No copyright on ribald jokes like this.) Ye marrying young man’s “tip,” after Gilbert Sullivan: “There's the old maid lank and ugly—with no bunk account, now hist! She’s i.ot on our Hvinen let. but sho always will bo “.ViM-ed?' "Ait, woe is mine !” wailed Senator Join s ; (Friends in Detroit hoard these sad moans) 1 “Don't ask 1110 to be calm, Win u she I love, you’ve cruel said, Some oth< r fellow soon will wed, And he, not me—would I wi ro dead ! Will ‘curry off the Palm.' " “My Husband's Crime” is the title of a ! recently issued novel. He pro!’ably hid his ' loose change in his shoe or slyly took it to । bed with him. so she couldn’t find it when ; she went through his pockets after he had ’ fallen asleep. । A “smartie” youth, with learning rife, 1 From college entered worldly strife, ■ And launched his craft on the stream of life With “I'll win wealth!" pomposity. [ But two short years had glideil o’er When he did beg from door to door, — A stranded wreck on the barren shore 1 Gs impecuniosity! । An Arizona Indian agent’s appeal to the 1 few remaining red men on his reservation, r ala Byron: Nude Apaches ! ere you dart . On the war-path, let ine start > To’rd the East—an<l save my scalp; , For your savage hearts do palpI tate for white gore, I know, —• ’ “Allee same” Geronimo I 1 “One hundred Doses, One Dollar,” ' advertises a patent medicine manufacturer. If the proprietor of the compound will amend sama by offering a prize of “One Hundred Dollars” to any one rash enough - to take "One Oose " mayce he’ll find some > hard-up citizen willing to risk a trial of the r mixture. I “in,ease, stranger, give mo fifteen cents,” I Did plead 11 red-nosed bum ; “For bread, I would,” replied the man, “But you I fear want rum.” “Oh, no, I swear you wrongly judge,” . The tramp qu^b—shedding tears—- . And got the Cash ; then went ami bought, j Not “rum”—but three big beers 1 Every Eastern “tenderfoot” who arrives 1 at a certain Montana mining .town is met 1 at the depot by a crowd who scornfully t greet him with this expression: “You don't - know beans!” After he has resented the I imputation and been pulverized by some , rough-and-tumble fighter, he is casually informed that “Beans is the feller’s name - that keeps ther loss dance-house in this 1 burg! Yer ought ter git ackquainted with ? him.” e On, the yacht, the yacht, the beautiful yacht, f Skipping o'er water as fast as a shacht; 1 Dancing, Glancing, 8 Flying along, 0 Breasting the billows so high and strong, 1 Reeling—like lightnings—off every knacht,— And making its passengers cry, “Great Scacht!” THB*St. Lorfjs girl, whose big feet Oft cause blockades in the street, 8 When she goes out to walk Hud better fiot stalk n Down the Ave., but should stay in reti< a ■,
A REMARKABLE ORDER. The Brotherhood of Railway ' Postal Clerks—How It Was Made Up. -— ( The Order Practically Haled by a ' “Grievance Committee”—How It Was Broken I'p. [Chicago telegram. 1 The secret constitution and work of the Brotherhood of Railway Postal Clerks show it to be in many respects a most remarkable organization. From the first page to the last there are traces of a vast scheme of boycotting the Government. The brotherhood seems formed solely to find a place for a Grievance Committee, which, so far as the Government is concerned, becomes the brotherhood, and has full and arbitrary power to speak and act for every clerk on its rolls. The objects of the order are stated to be for “mutual aid and prof; et ion, and fora more perfect union, that we as a body may be the better enabled to resist encroachments made upon our rights as citizens and | our manhood as officials by indiscriminate i removals from office of any of our members w ithout sufficient cause and upon charges tiled and faitlyand fully investigated, and that we may also be the better enabled to administer to the wants and necessities of siek and indigent brothers, and in oth. r respects to cultivate a more fraternal feeling among our members." The first annual meeting of the Grand Lodge is fixed at Indianapolis, July 13. and its composition is entered upon in painful details. But its presiding officer, known as the Grand Chief Clerk, is shorn of all executive functions, which all appear lodged in the Grieiance Committee. There is a per capita tax of SI upon all members of the brotherhood, which, together with the usual fees for lodge charters and the sale of rituals, will Bring in a fair invonie if the membership is reasonably large. 1 The by-laws define the regulations of membi rship, and state that no person sha-1 be admitted to membership in this brotherhood whose reputation for honesty, sobriety, and industry can be seriously assailed. ; and all applicants must be recommended ! by two members of the lodge as 111 every way worthy of membership. The initiation i fee is $2. It is provided that a member : who shall die in the service, or who shall be discharged from his position for alleged causes upon which there Iras been no con- । vietion, shall be entitled to a stun from the lienevolent fund of the Grand Lodge equal to an amount to be raised by an assessment of $1 each upon all the members of the Liotherhood, said amount to be paid to his widow or hens <if a married mam or if an unmarried mm the same 111 iv be disposed of by will or be [raid to those dependent । on him for support. The following language is used: "To all the By-laws, rules and regulations we Lind ourselves by the most solemn pledges of honor, uniting ourselves in the fraternal bands of brotherly love. We pledge to cH’ h other our lives, our honor, and our lasting fidelity and fealty, ndmon- ; ishing our tin thren to be true to the princi- । pies that characterize tine manhood. Continue to <n\e th” work your most faithful and honest efforts, and this important branch of the Government service, which your skill and genius aided so largely in consummating, will go down the ages as an imperishable monument to your memories.” The officers of the lodge are rather p; cnliorly named. They are the Chief Clerk, the Second Clerk, the Third Ch rk, the Transfer Clerk, and the Short Stop. The I Chief Clerk is the presiding officer, the Second Clerk is the sec etary, the Third Clerk is the tn'asnrer. the Transfer Clerk is a sort of general utility man, while the 1 Short Stop is supposed to stop interlopers at the door. The power of the presiding ] officer, follow mg the lead of smaller societit s. is practiially unlimited between the ; meetings of the lodge, and he can do about ■ as he pleases. To become a member it is necessary to i have received a permanent appointment as a postal clerk, a commission from the Postj master General being evidence of that fact, j and also to be in active service at the time ; of application. The usual procedure is ; carried out in the way of initiation until the candidate has taken the oath, then he, “by further attesting his allegiance, will surrender to the lodge, through the Chief Clerk, his resignation as a postal clerk, which will be placed in the hands of the Grievance Committee, to be used by said committee under the orders of the lodge onlv in case of extreme emergency and in concert and conjunction with all the inembeis of the same.” This Grievance Committee, while it is but one of the three standing committees in the lodge, thus becomes the most important one of the lot, being closely modeled after the Executive Boards of the Knights of Labor. Their duty, as laid down in the constitution, is to take charge of all matters relating to the oflici il relations of the Brotherhood of Railway Clerks with the Postmaster General and other officials in the Railway Mail Service; and when in the opinion of the committee an exigency shall exist for the exercise of arbitrary action they shall at once take the necessary steps to prosecute any plan or scheme that may, in their judgment, be the means of consummating a desired object. They shall not, however, resort to extreme measures until an amicable adjustment of all difficulties may be deemed impracticable, aud without the knowledge or consent of the lodge. This gees further than any trades union ever thought of going, and makes one committee, armed with the resignations from the service of every member of the lodge, the autocrat of its affairs. It is, perhaps, as dangerous an arrangement for the clerks under any regime as can well be imagined. The whole scheme of the brotherhood seems built up around the central idea of this irresponsible Grievance Committee. The leaders who contrived the machinery of the brotherhood were solely planning a huge strike to coerce the Postmaster General into the agreement, for it seems scarcely possible that a body of men who intended founding a permanent society would have placed such unlimited ] ower in the hands of one committee and effectually gaged a minority by holding over the heads of its members their forced resignations ready to be turned over to the Postoffice Department the moment the committee determined to strike. The entire plan shows the hands of good organizers and bears the marks of months of study, which it doubtless leceived. Since 17;)0 Pennsylvania has had sixteen Governors, eight of whom xvere Germans. The mortality among the children of New Orleans has been remarkable this suninier. The League of American Wheelmen claims a menibersuip of ten thousand. It is seventeen years since the first railroad across the continent was completed. A taventy-five pound colt was born recently near Mount Vernon, Ohio.
CONGRESSIONAL. The Work of the Senate and House of Representatives. The House bill for the relief of the survivors of the Jeannette and the widows and children of those wli” i” rislii’d in th” ictrent from the wreck of that vessel in the arctie seas was re ported favorably to the Senate on the Ist inst from the Committee on Naval Affairs. Senator Hiddleborger introduced a bill providing for a 25 per cent, reduction in the salaries of Cabinet officers, Senators and Representatives. Senator Miller, from the Committee on Agriculture, reported back, without amendments, the House bill taxing oleomargarine, four members of the committee dissenting. The President nominated John C. Shields of Michigan to be Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Arizona, and G. Chase Godwin to bo United States Attorney for the Western District of Michigan. The House passed the sundry civil appropriation bill, and refused to pass the Dos Moines River land bill over the President’s veto. The legislative appropriation bill passed the Senate on the 2d inst. Senator Vance, in opposing an amendment to the bill providing for on additional clerk for the Civil-Service Commission, said that if the commission was unable to do any more business it would be so much the better. Senator Saulsbury thought the CivilService Commission, from beginning to end, a useless piece of machinery. If he mid his way he would repeal the law. Mr. Voorhees said that he had never bet n for the law, sleeping or walking, but while it was a law lie would treat it fairly und give it a fair chance. Senator Ingalls did not wonder that Senator Voorhees was in favor of the civil-service law as administered by the Democratic party, aud be quoted from the statement of the Commissioner of Pensions, that out of seventy-seven men appointed by him undt r civil-service rule seventytwo were Democrats and the ether five were of unknown polities. The amendment was adopted, Senator Cockrell, of Missouri, in discussingtue paragraph of the deficiency appropriation bill relating to the Navy D ’paitiiient.said that in 1866 there wore 320 serviceable vessels in the navy ; to-day there were but eighty seven vessels, and of these the Secretary of the Navy certified that only thirty-seven were serviceable. During these twenty years 5419,000,000 had been expended tor the naval t Btublishment,of w hieh J9J,000,000 had been expended for construction and repairs. Th ■ House passed the Senate bill providing for an uddit'onal Justice of the Supreme Court of the Territory of Montana. The Senate amendments to the bill repealing the preemption, timber culture, and desert land laws were nonconcurred in by the House, and a committee of conference was appointed. An amendment to the general deficiency bill providing for the payment of the claims of the Pacific Mail Steamship t onipany for the transportation of troops to Panama in June, 1885, was agreed to by the House. The President veto, d the act granting a pemsion to William B >one. It appears that Boone enlisted in August. 1862. was in action in November of the same year, and was taken prisoner und at once paroled. During his parole be took part in the Fourthof July cidebration at Aurora, 111., in 1863, and was terribly’ injured by the discharge of a cannon, which he was assisting to manage. In reviewing the case the Preside: t says ho is unable to discover any relation I tween the accident and the military service. He says further ■ “A disabled man and wife and family in need are objects which appeal to the sympathy and charitable feelings of any decent man; but it seems to me that it by no means follows that those intrusted with the people’s business and the expenditure of the people’s money are justified in so executing the pension laws as that they Shull furnish a means of relief in every case of distress or hardship.” The Committee on Pensions presented a report to the Senate on the 3d inst., recommending the passage over the President’s veto of the bill granting a pension to Mary A. Nottage. The report condemns the President for his vetoes of private p< nsion bills, asserting that he acts upon lack of information ; that some of his messages lire expressed in unjust and unexampled stvlo; and that derision of the committee’s labors ‘ can originate only in a wise and noble nature which is misled, or in one that, if informed, sadly needs reconstruction or recreation.” The President sent to the Senate his veto of the bill for the relief of Martin L. Bundy. In the veto message the President says: "The claimant, who was a Quartermaster, after the settlement of his accounts was found to bo indebted to the Government. Thereupon he put in a claim for forage more than sufficient to offset his indebtedness. There is no suggestion that ho had or used any horses, and if he did and failed to make a claim for forage at the time he settled his accounts, then he presents a case of inccedibl® ignorance of his rights or a wonderful lack of that disposition to gain every possible advantage which is usually found among those who deal with the Government.” The claim is not allowed on the ground that it would set a precedent which could hardly be ignored, and which, if followed, would furnish another means of attack upon the Treasury quite as effective as many which are now in operation. Mb Ingalls, at the request of the Social Purity’ Alliance of the District of Columbia, introduced three bills in the Senate on the bth iust. for the protection of women ami children in the District. A very large number of petitions gotten up and signed through the exertions of the Knights of l.abor. praying for the passage of the bills forfeiting railroad land-grants, were presented. A bill was introduced by Mr. Cockrell to regulate the pay of army and navy officers who refuse or neglect to provide for their families. The Senate spent some time in discussing an item of 5150,000 in the river and harbor bill for the purchase of the Sturgeon Bay Ship Canal, but reached no conclusion. The President nominated Fitz John Porter to be a Colonel on the retired list of the army, in accordance with the terms of the act recently passed for hir relief. The House, in committee of the whole, reached the end of the general deficiency bill, and reported it back to the House. The President transmitted to the House messages announcing his disapproval of twenty private pension bills. In vetoing the bill granting a pension to Francis Deming, who claims that he contracted blindness, the result of rheumatism incurred in the service, the President says that there seems to be no testimony showing the soldier’s condition from the time of his discharge to 1880, a period of fifteen years. The President continues: “I am satisfied that a fair examination of the facts in this case justifies the statement that the bill under consideration can rest only upon the grounds that aid should bo furnished to this ex-soldier because he served in the army, and because, a long time thereafter, he became blind, disabled, and dependent. None of us is entitled to credit for extreme tenderness and consideration for those who fought their country's battles; these are sentiments common to all good citizens. They lead to the most benevolent care on the part of the Government and deeds of chari and mercy in private life. The blatant and noisy' self-as-sertion of those who, from motives that may well be suspected, declare themselves above all others the friends of the soldier, can not discredit nor belittle the calm, steady, an 1 affectionate regard of a grateful nation. Legislation has been at the present session of Congress perfected which considerably increases the rate of pension in certain cases. Appropriations have also been made of large sums for the support of national homes where sick, disabled, or needy’ soldiers are cared for, and within a few days a liberal sum has been appropriated for the enlargement and increased accommodation and convenience of these institutions. All this is no more than should be done. But with all this, and with the blunders of special acts which have been pushed, granting pensions in cases where, for my part. I am willing to confess that sympiitliy rather than judgment has often led to the discovery of a relation between injury or death and the military service, I am constrained by a sense of public duty to interpose against establishing 11 principle and setting a precedent which must result in unregulated, partial and unjust gifts of public money under the pretext of indemnifying those who suffered in their means of support as an incident of military service. ” A favorite project with Peter the Great seems likely to be carried out at last, the Russian authorities having resolved to commence xvprk this year on a canal between the White Sea and the Baltic Sea. In her xvars xvith Turkey between 17(17 and 1774 Russia did not employ privateers. In the e ghteenth century privateering had become an organized piracy, and almost every treaty attempted, but in vain, to restrain it. Prejudice lurks in hidden corners of all minds over xvhich knowledge has not shed its penetrating light, and 1 prejudice is the natural foe of magna- । nimity. I A Boston plumber has committed snicide. The season is over.
NUMBER 2.
INDIANA STATE NEWS. —The remains of an Indian chieftain, supposed to have been slain in battle during the early part of the century, have been discovered on the Miami Indian reservation, twelve miles south of Wabash. Mr. Daniel Swayzee, a farmer living in the vicinity, while walking along the Mississiuewa River, observed a human skull protruding from the bank, scoured by the < urrent of the stream. Summoning William I’econgea, a Miami residing near, together they exhumed the skeleton, which was wrapped in a coarse woolen cloth and laid in a trough about eight feet long, made of buckeye wood. Interred with the corpse were a sib vr vessel, resembling a teapot, four sib er spoons, two bracelets, a pot of war paint, two pairs of leg bands hung with bells, a rusty tomahawk and scalping knife, and other articles of a trifling - haracter. The men removed the skeleton, and Swayzee declared his intention of retaining the trinkets as relics, but Pec< ngea objected so strenuously that Swx ee yielded, and the bones and ornament re returned to the grave. Thesipipos ■« the Indian land is that the skeh . s that of a chief killed in con p .th a hostile tribe about the year ISrrryWhen the Miamis were at war with other bands of savages. The bones were remarkably well preserved, and the rude coffin, the woolen cloth, and other articles were almost as sound as on the day of sepulture. The discoven' is a fruitful subject of speculation among the residents of the Indian land, and the poor whites who have married and intermarried with the Miamis, now that the location of the grave has leaked out, will not rest content till the buckeye casket is resurrected and rifled of the silver. A colored woman living near I l ire Haute said that she had murdered her baby and buried it. She took the officers to the spot, where it was found less than a foot under ground. Its skull was crushed in. She returned to the city with the officers, her feet resting on the box containing the remains, and she laughing and talking unconcernedly about trivial matters. Sho was never married, and has had four children, two of which, besides this histone, are supposed to have been killed. She gives, as her reason for committing the deed, the fact that her mother and grandmother upbraided her for having so many children. —The safe at the depot in Sullivan, belonging to the E. & T. H. Railroad Company, was blown open recently. The burglars, however, failed to get into the inner vault, and only helped themselves to a small sack of silver and probably a few tickets. There was from S7OO to SI,OOO belonging to the express company in the safe, which they failed to reach. They pried open the baggage-room door xvith an iron bar, and from thence got into the ticket office. They were probably frightened off ere they completed the job. • —Mr. Woodworth, husband of the noted evangelist, has purchased twelve acres of ground nt Lake Manitou, with the intention of improving the same. It is the intention of Mrs. Woodworth to hold a camp-meet-ing there every year, and buildings will be erected for this purpose. The meeting will be held this year for one month, commencing August 27. —lt G thouglit Lh,at this will give Lake Manitou a great bu in, and speculators are already buying up th” lots. The place lias enjoyed much celebrity as a summer resort. —At the Wabash County Poor Farm lies a young xvoman, 25 years of age, whose back was broken twenty vears_agq by In r father, who, while drunk, thre'U 0 ^ 1 a flour-barrel. Her n eovery wauouwj J ’aoUW 0 impossible, as the instances of . a fracture of the spine iu medi-W v i are very few. She is partially ]’ y 0101 is but four feet tall, and hideou-pta V J formed. The case excites much interest among surgeons of the vicinity, who mar vel that death did not speedily follow the infliction of the injury. —The safe of a grocer at Elkhart was blown open recently. Holes had Been drilled in the top and giant powder used, exploding with such force as to hurl the door flolll its hinges, knock tin 1 safe through a partition, scatter the money all over the room, and make such a noise as to wake the neighborhood and bring them . at once to the scene. '1 lie burglars, alarmed at their own work, fled without । stopping to gather the money. Ihe dam--1 age to the goods and building was quite ■ heavy. ' —Near Goshen a 2-year-ohl child of a family of the name of Clawson was playing . around her home, and strayed near the pigpen. She climbed a light fence surroundl ing the pen. and was either pulled in by the hogs or fell in, and was almost det voured before she was discovered, (hie ’ side of her head was eaten off, the arms ; were torn in shreds, and the intestines were protruding. She was dead when disi covered. —The Eighth and Eighteenth regiments Indiana Volunteers, and the First Indiana J Battery, composing a brigade in tiie Union 1 army, will hold their eleventh annual re- , union in Wabash on October 19. There ■ are GOO surviving members of the 1 rigado 1 in the organization, of which Capt. Josei h Thompson is President and C. C. Mikesell । Secretary. t —A man residing near Brownstown, was struck by the engine of a west-bound express train on the Ohio and Mississippi , Railroad, near Medora, while it was runt niug at full speed, and knocked a consij- . erable distance from the track. His in--1 juries consist of a broken leg and arm, a 3 badly thumped head, and severely lacerated body. —A young man belonging to one of the best families in Richmond, was found . hanging to a rafter in a barn about ten । miles east of that city recently. The act - is attributed to melancholy over the possible return of epilepsy, to which he was subject when about 8 years old, he having 3 of late complained of distress in his head. ' .A pioneer who resided two miles southeast of Cartersburg, died recently, aged about 70. He was very wealthy, and was the hugest land-holder and thx-payer in . Hendricks County, he having in his posy session about 1,900 acres of land. /
