St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 12, Number 28, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 8 January 1887 — Page 1

COUNTy St Itifcrt Jnitcpcnftent

VOLUME XII.

MSTLE ETTRICK. ^22 Old Soldier's Love Story. CHAPTER 1. COLONEL LYNDON AND HIS FRIENDS. 'But who is Colonel Lyndon, Flofa?” “Colonel Lyndon is one of the most remarkable men in London at the present moment." . “In what way? Cannot you particularize a little?” „ “But there are so many ways, said Lady flora Winstanley, with a smile. “To be- • gjn with, he is remarkable-looking, a tine man, tall, well built, muscular, would pass muster anywhere. Then—but I am sure you will laugh——” “I promise to be serious. “He is as simple as a child.” “In your opinion. Flora?” “There, William. I knew you would say that.” “Well, never mind. Go on. What else?” “I don’t think I shall tell you anything more. You will soon see him for yourself.” "Then he has accepted your invitation?” "Yes; he will arrive, I hope, the day after to-morrow." “And Miss Morrison and Milly?” “I wrote to the Colonel about them yesterday. Most likely they will travel together.” The scene of the above little dialogue was th? terrace in front of Castle Ettrick, and the speakers were Mr. AVinstanley, one of the largest landed proprietors in a picturesque northern county, and his wife, Lady Flora Winstanley. The time was the forenoon of a lovely day in July. “There is nothing but fishing now,” remarked Mr. Winstanley, meditatively, “or driving. Poes he know the country—the . Colonel, I mean ?” “Oh, yes! Fie used to stay at the Mackenzies’ years ago. They are almost ridiculous about him. The old General says it is a thousand pities he has left the army, and that there is not such another soldier in England. But don’t trouble yourself, William. Colonel Lyndon is not one of those men who require amusing. Leave him to ‘gang his ain gait,’ as our neighbors here would say, and he will be perfectly happy. By-the-by, I suppose you know that a visitor is expected at Peep Deane?” “Know!” cried Mr. Winstanley. “I should think there is not a single soul within fifty miles of this that doesn’t know. The whole neighborhood is on the tiptoe of expectation. If I have been a«ked one question on the subject, I have certainly had to answer a hundred. Aud the business—l never saw anything like it. Houses are being decorated, old games furbished up, lawn-tennis and croquet grounds set in order; estimable matrons of every degree are drawing their families about them. Ned This wants a change of air; Pick That hasn’t had a holiday for time untold; and Jack The-other, poor lad!- ” “Pon’t be so cynical. M illiaih,” interrupted Lady Flora. “Os course we are all ready to welcome a stranger, especially one who comes from so great a distance; and if we wish to make things pleasant for her, is that any subject for ridicule? For my’ own part, I am sorry that our house is not a little brighter just now. Percy being away makes such a difference.” “Every difference,” said Mr. Winstanley, with a laugh. “AVell, she has not arrived yet. By the way, she will be traveling about the same time as our people. It would be curious if they met.” “How should they meet?” returned Lady Flora. Laughing at her husband for his absurd suggestion, she went off to her morning occupations, one of which was to choose a room with a comfortable aspect for Colonel Lyndon, and to give orders for the due and proper amount of cleaning, airing, and dainty decoration, to make the room worthy of so welcome a guest. Lady Flora Winstanley, who was one of the many daughters of a Scotch Earl, who had married wisely when she was a girl, and who had lived long enough to see her eldest daughter a wife and molher, and her only son a military’ officer in the service of her Majesty, was a shrewd aud capable woman of the world. She was not without kindliness, for she had done many a generous deed in her time; but the circumstances of her life, helped by a certain prudence of character inherited from a long line of prudent ancestors, had made her practical rather than sentimental, keen of scent and eye where the interests of her family were concerned, and hard toward those who ventured to oppose them, or who undesignedly stood in their way. That she would have spoken of herself as selfish or worldy is improbable. She ■ had a certain position to keep up and not ; too much “siller” to keep it up on, aud therefore she was bound to be careful. Neither she, nor her husband, nor her son, when he was at home, could live—at least, so she supposed—without entertaining or being entertained, or pursuing some of the costly and laborious amusements which make rich men and women old before their time; and since the property was not neatly so productive as it had been, it was necessary for her to look well to the ways of her household, and especially to those of her two unmarried children, Percy and Mildred. To plan for the future, and provide, so far as in her lay, for the continued prosp rity and dignity of her family—what was it, after all, but a right and proper fulfillment of the scriptural injunction to care for those of her own household?

At the time when Lady f lora and her husband were talking over their expected visitor they had but recently arrived at their S otch home on the moors. They had traveled northward a little earlier than usual, being anxious to economize after the expenses of the London season, which had been usually brilliant. Lady Flora was fond of the country, and she thought the complete rest would do her good, wh’le Mr. Winstanley, who did not “do the season” so faithfully as his wife, was always glad of a qiret week on the lochs and streams of Ettrick. For the moment they were quite alone, Lady Flora having a’ranged to leave, her youngest daughter, Mildred, in London with her governess, to finish a course of singing and music lessons: while Mrs. Wilson, her eldest daughter, whose husband was a barrister, in tolerably brisk, though as yet not very profitable practice, was not due at the Castle until the middle of August. Percy, Lady Flora's only sou and eldest child, the joy and pride of her heart, h'ad bade her good-by in London for an indefinite period, his regiment having been ordered abroad. The complete rest, although at first most charm ng and refreshin began, after a few days, to become wearisome to Lady Flora, and she longed for tiie moment when the Castle would till with its autumn guests. It was when she was casting about in her mind for visitors to till up the dreary blank between the date of their arrival at Castle Ettrick and the 12th of August, which happy day would I ring the usual batch of shooting men. wi h their wives and dan. liters, to make the o’d I o tse gay, that sh * thou; h of Ler friend Colom 1 Lyndon, of High Cliffe, and to him she wrote, be.ging, in her g aceful way, that he would take pity on the loneliness of a pair of solitary

old people, and give them the pleasure of his company at Castle Ettrick. Ihe invitation arrived ata happv moment, and was immediately and gratefully accepted. The Colonel fixed a near day for his visit, and set himself at once to make arrangements for his journey. Colonel Lyndon and Lady Flora Winstanley were friends of old standing. He was her junior, though not by many years; they had spent some months of their youth as near neighbors; and the time had been—he was then a mere boy, and she a beautiful woman, just beginning to feel her own power—when he had thought of her with a very tender regard. He was too young, too poor, and too simple to have been, in any sense, a competitor for the hand of the lovely Lady Flora, but had be known how much she liked him, he might have made an effort to win her. As it fell out, the exigencies of life separated them. He, being the second sou in a family that held to the traditions of the old lauded gentry, without having the money' to maintain them, went away iuto the Indian army, and spent years upon years in exile. He was not wanted at home. His eldest brother ruled in their father's place, in the old family mansion of High Cliffe. His mother who had still her home there, was wrapped up in her elder son, and scarcely so much as thought of the younger. He became accustomed, after a time, to the life of camps and foreign stations, aud his far-off home iu England was like a shadowy dream to him. As for Lady Flora, she set aside prudently her fancy that might have grown into a hopeless love for the beautiful and chivalrous youth, who had been the companion and devoted friend of her early womanhood, and married, after a short, uneventful courtship, the gentleman chosen for her by her father. None the less did sho continue —as women will—to follow with interest the career of the man whom, if things had fallen out differently, she might have loved. It was during that brilliant season in London that she heard of Colonel Lyndon's return to England. He had returned for good and all, having a few months before, iu obedience to his mother’s wish, retired from the army. No one knew what it cost the gallant soldier to give up his profession and go back iuto private life. ’ He loved the movement and bustle of camps; in the full command which had devolved upon him not long before, he took the keenest satisfaction and delight; he was aware, too, as turned out to be the case, that civilian life at home, with no occupation of an absorbing kind to keep it going, would very soon pail upon him. As for High Cliffe—which, his brother having died, was now his—it might be a grand place in his mother's eyes, but to him, accustomed as he was t > the vast distances and palatial splendors of tie East, it seemed poor and email. Aud yet be obeyed. His mother had lost her elder sou, She wrote plaintively that she had none other than him. He was Lyndon of High Cliffe now. He must come home, marry, and take up his position iu the county. It would break her heart to think of the place, that hid belonged for so many generations to tyo lamdv, being sold or passing iuto the bauds of straugers. On personal grounds, also, she besought him to yield to her. She was old, sb' wrote, aud the last stroke had been too heavy lor her. She felt that the end of her sorrows was at hand. She would die more happily if her son was near her. Sue did not, indeed. Ion; survive his coming. He traveled post-bast? to London, and went down into Devonshire, where High Cliffe was situated, and for the rest of his mother's life he remained there. It was when he had laid heriu the grave, when the early days of mourning were over, and he began to look forward to the life which was left to him, that Colonel Lyndon first realized the full importance of the step he had taken iu leaving the army. He had few relatives and no near friends in England. Ho was accustomed to have many people about him; but of society, as it is understood iu London or his own county, he knew nothing. The pursuits of his neighbors were not his pursuits. He was expected to be an courant with all the chit-chat of the county, and he scarcely so much as knew the names of his mother’s and brother's oldest friends. Then High Cliffe was so well managed that it gave him nothing to do. He had a certain talent for organization, aud if he had found things wrong on h s estate, it might have interested him to set them right. But the steward was so trustworthy; the provincial lawyers, who had looked after the property for many years, were so able and devoted; the 1 md, even to the garden which had been his mother’s pride.was ineuch admirable order, that he felt it would be not only unwise but ungrateful to interfere with any of the arrangements. After thanking every one and confirming every one in the posts they had held under his mo her, the Colonel found bis life so insufferably dreary that he wander-d up to London, where he had several friends.

It was then early in the brilliant season which had been so exhausting to Lady Flora Winstanley’s finances. The Colonel had not many friends, but those he did possess were persons of good standing. They introduced him to others. His soldierly bearing and his fine chivalrous manners made him a favorite, especially among ladies, and, had he chosen, he might have been at two or three gay assemblages every night. London life, however, palled upon him, as life in the country had done. The people were very kind and agreeable. He was grateful to them for the notice they took of him, which did indeed sometimes surprise him a little. But in the midst "of gay crowds he was solitary; he missed his men; he missed the punctilious order of his soldier-life; he missed the young officers who had hpen his friends as well as his subordinates, and whom it had been his pride, as he would have expressed it, “to keep straight.” He was wanted there, so at least he fondly imagined; and there was some profit and satisfaction in his life. Here—both in the depths of the country and in the gay’ whirl of London life he felt the same—no one really wanted him. To have said that there was no satisfaction in his life would have been impious to the religious sense of the old soldier. He could not. as yet, feel that there was any profit in it. When he met Lady Flora Winstanley—it was by what is generally called an accident —at the house of a mutual friend, the Colonel, though few would have recognized the fact, was beginning to fall a prey to a settled melancholy. Tne unexpected and most pleasant revival of an early friendship cheered him not a little. He told Lady Flora some of his perplexities, and was advised by her to have patience. “There is a nook in the world for everyone,” said the wise lady. “You will find your nook in time.” Byway of helping him to find this nook, she introduced him to hereon Percy. “Give him some good advice,” she said- “He is a dear boy, but much too easily led.” The Colonel was sparing of his advice; but he made Lady Flora’s son his friend, and was able, in the course of the summer, to save that charming but somewhat flighty young soldier from tumbling into two or three dangerous pit-falls. Looking after Percy, in fact, became almost an occupation to him. Percy was leaving the attractive neighborhood of the metropolis, and the Colonel

WALKERTON, ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA, SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1887.

was wondering what he should do with himself for the next few weeks, when Lady Flora’s invitation to Castle Ettrick arrived. CHAPTER IL THREE LETTERS AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES. Ou the day beiore Colonel Lyndon’s projected departure from London he found no less than three letters on his study table. The first which he opened was in the firm, somewhat masculine, baud of his friend Lady Flora Winstanley. It ran as follows: “Dear Colonel Lyndon—l hope I shall not be presuming too far upon your good-nature if 1 ask you to give what assistance you can to a pair of young travelers who are going your way. ' One is well known to you—l mean my little daughter, Milly. 1 hear she met you frequently at her brother’s chambers this season. Her companion is our new governess, Miss Morrison, a good and charming girl, but timid and inexperienced. They stayed behind me for educational reasons, aud they have been under the guardianship of our London housekeeper, whom I would have asked to come on with me to Scotland, had I not remembered that you were coming north by the very same train. I do not know whether I shall bo flattering you or not when I say that, in all the circle of my acquaintanceship, you are the only gentleman of whom I would venture to ask such a kindness. “Looking forward to meet you soon, I remain most sincerely yours, “Flora Winstanley.” A kind aud amiable letter. When the Colonel had read it he put it down smilingly. “Thank you, Lady Flora,” he said half ah ud. "It is clearer ough that you do not share the opinion of some of my friends. Well! 1 think I have made it to be understood that 1 am an old bachelor. I have been indifferent to a surprising amount of beauty and wit this season. Now, lot mo see what comes next.” He took up the next letter. “Alexander Smith; what can he want with me?” The question was soon answered. Mr. Smith, like Lady Flora, wanted help for inexperienced travelers. ‘ My Dear Lyndon” the wrote), “I think we are friends of sufficiently old standing for me to venture to ask you to do me a favor. “My niece and ward, Veronica Browne (yon will know whom 1 menu; there has just been a law suit about her property), is traveling to Scotland. 1 should have wished to accompany her at hast as far as Edinburgh, but 1 find I can only do so at the sacrifice of business. My niece is not in the least timid, but she knows very little about traveling in England, and her maid, who is one of the stupidest of women, would be capable of fainting at a critical moment, or bursting into tears if she was looked at. Unhappily, sho is a treasure, and a treasure with a history, so my niece will not part with her. 1 was nt my wits’ end about thorn, when 1 remembered that you were traveling by the same train. Will you give an eye to my niece during the journey, aud render her what assistance you can? I will meet you at th ■ station and introduce you to her. Believe me, my dear Lyndon, very sincerely yours, “Alexander Smith.” This was just a little p rplexing. Three ladies to escort to the North! Surely it was hard upon the Colonel. He had heard of Miss Veronica Browne, who, in consequence of her large wealt.i, lively manner, and curiously interesting story, had been one of the sensations of the season, and he believed, from what he heard, that she was exceedingly well able to take care of herself. But Alexander ^mith was an old friend. If he chose to go through the formality of an introduction at the station, the Colonel felt that he was bound to make himself agreeable, if not useful. The third letter was in the handwr ting of his charming, flighty young friend, Percy Winstanley; and as the Colonel believed him to have been on h s wav to Africa by this time, he looked at it with some surprise. It d* ted from Plymou h then he had not started. This was strrnge. The Colonel opened the letter hastily. “Dear Colonel” (wrote the young fellow), “I gather from your last that you are off to the Highlands. Will you be surprised if I tell you that I, Percy Winstanley, mean to travel north in the same train? It is a long story, which I can tell you when we meet. Thunderstorms off the Land’s End; negligence somewhere—the Samarcand broke down, put in at Plymouth; won’t be able to travel for at least a fortnight. In t. ese fouit”en blessed days, which are given to me by my indulgent country for my own purposes, I mean to rush up to Ettrick, and have one more look at the dear old place and the dear old people before 1 go. What fun it Will be! 1 shall do ihe melo-dramatic —burst upon them like a meteor, take every one by surpri-e. But as I knew you, my dear mentor, would certainly spot me during the journey, 1 take yon into my confidence. Look for me early in the morning after you receive this. We can dine together and then hooiay for the North! Yours, in haste and affection, “Percy W.instanley." There was a pleasant light in the Colon-d’s eyes as he read this effusive 1< tter. “Extravagant young beggar! ’he murmured. “Just line him. At ell. he’s not a son of mine!’’ and then he began to feel glad that he would have a young friend with him to take part in the onerous duties of the journey, and to think, with a satisfaction which irradiated his sunburnt face, of the rapture his little friend Milly would experience, when she would see in the crowded station the beloved 1 rot er over whose absence she had been shedding so many bitt r tears.

As these moments of kindly feeling give an additional grace to even the best-favored of moitals, we will s. i^:e the present opportunity for giving a slight sketch o. onr Colonel's appearance and manners. Oi his precise age we cannot speak definitely. And, indeed, there was a diversity of opinion on this point. An old-fas toned young man, or a young-fashioned old man either of these descriptions might have applied to him. He was not certainly in the least like the young man or the elderly man who is ordinarily to be met with in London draw-ing-rooms in the season. It was due, probably. to his long absence from England that he had not caught up with the manner of the time. He spoke quietly, and finished his sentences properly. W hen he addressed ladies it was with a courtliness of manner which, while it amused them on a first introduction —their cousins, brothers, an.d uncles having accustomed them to so different a style of behavior —proved, after a time, particularly fascinating to them. The Colonel, moreover, had not learned the code of signals which do duty for witty tdk among a certain class in society. He could not converse in jerks and bursts, and not a few of the expressions that were current coin in fashionable circles seemed to him positively ill-mannered. Many of his acquaintances called him formal; but to most of them there was something refreshing about his formality. “I love to talk to Colonel Lyndon,’' said one well-known lady, who ruled society by her beauty and wit at this time; “he is not afraid of being original.” Others said that the Colonel was sympathetic, that ho seemed to know by instinct what would be interesting to hist companion of the moment. |TO BE CONTINUED.) The tender passion—The antipathy against tough steak.

FAREWELL TO LOGAN. Impressive Services Over the Dead Statesman in the Senate Chamber. His Civil and Military Career Eloquently Eulogized by Rev. Dr. Newman. The Remains Escorted to Rock Creek Cemetery by a Long Procession. Solemn aud impressive funeral services over the remains of Senator Logan were held iu the Senate Chamber at Washington on the last day of the year. There was a great throng of people present. The Rev. Dr. Newman preached the funeral sermon. The President was not able to attend, but Mrs. Cleveland was present, ns well as the members of the Cabinet and their wives. All the branches of the Government w ere represented. Among the pall-bearers were General Sherman, Roscoe Conkling, Postmaster < lonoral Vilas, Fred D. Grant, and Senator Stanford. To the bugler s soft good-night strain, just, as darkness was gathering, the remains of the civilian soldier were consigned to the vault, under a guard of army comrades, by the family of Gen. Logan. It wus a soldier's burial, but without the pageantry of war. The cemetery w hich had been chosen for temporary interment lies under the shadow of the Soldiers' Home. Thither the casket was borne, under military escort, from the Capitol down he broad avenue through which one summer's day more than twenty years ago Gen. Logan had led 60,003 men. fresh from the field of war, to their final disbandment. After the honors duo General Logan’s public career hiul been rendered in the chamber where he sat for fourteen years as a Senator from Illinois, about the vault in Rock Creek Cemetery gathered the official representatives of that State, Governor Oglesby and staff. With these mingled Congressional representatives—not alone from Illinois but from every part of the i nion as well as those from other branches of the Government, the Cabinet, the judiciary, the army, and the navy. There, too, gathered brothers in Masonic ties and those in w hose presence was reflected the sorrow of the great muss of the private citizens of (lon. I ogan's city and State. Mme impressive than all wax the mingling of the tours of the old s< Idler eoi irades w ith the tears of the bereaved family. As the funeral cortege wound its wny through the enow-covered mounds of the beautiful cemetery the nir was tilled with sleet, aud ruin, and snow. About the white marble vault in which wen- to bo placed the remains bud been banked countless Hower emblems. Standing near the head of the casket. Department Chaplain Swallow begun to read the burial service of the Grand Army of the Re public, The scene was vert impressive, surrounding the casket stood members of the Cabinet, Senators. Representutin'S, army otll cers of high rank, and gray -haired veterans of the war, with uncovered heads, w hile in u low but distinct voice the chupluin road the simple but solemn service YA hen he had finished, Rev. Dr. Newman stepped forward and. in an impressive manner, delivered the Lent s prayer, mid concluded with the benediction the band begun to play softly as the pall-1 eurots stepped forward and bore the casket into the vault Sounds of lamentation were heard from the m iirtUrx inirmge. A tr impel a standi ut the entrance of the tomb raised the iii'drur fi t to his lips and broke the <i ml s.lem, with "tups lights out . The caSkvt wii th- n uueti* ered. and some of th-dead senators relatives mid friends p.r.-sed thm.igh the entrnneo and took a lust look at his features. As ter a few moments the cover was re placed, and th • ease infilosins; the easkAt fastened with thumb seuw h Meat! - hila mu y military oroam. ations had taken up their home Wind mnich, the cairn.;; s follow m ; miu ia. with tne exception f that <w. lined by Airs Logan and herson, wh ch remained lonc no tgh to enable her to give some directions to Depute Sergeant nt-iirnm Christie regardin • the iliquisition of some of the flowms. the ren nirnU r of the tloral decorations were then convi ve 1 to the tomb, complet. tv c wring the va-kit. the key grated in the iron door, and the illustuoun dead WHS left in solitude. Aftei the ceremonu snt the tomb were over Deputy Sergeant tvtc-rms Christie called u] 'n Gen. Hunt, governor of the Soldiers' Home, and suggest-<1 ti e propriety of having a guard of honor over the remains. Gen. Hunt st once called for volunteers tr. m the residents . f the home, and in short time a number of the veterans resimnded to the invitation. Ihe volunteer guard w ill be nisintained day and night in two-hour w atches until a force of regular soldiers is detailed for guard duty by the Secretary of War. On the day of the funeral solemn memorial meetings w ere hel I by citizens and Grund Army posts at various places throughout the country.

Logan's Character Eulogized* [Extract from Rev. Dr. Newman’s funeral oration.) Some men have the flower of language ; Logon had the flower of thought. He hud the eloquence of logic, and could raise metaphor into argument Ho resembled not so much the beautiful river whose broad stream winds through rich and varied scenery, but that which cuts a deep and rapid el annel through rugged rocks end trowning wilds, leaving the impress of its power on the land through w Inch it passes, which but for it would remain desolate and barren. His was hot the music of the organ, with its varied stops and mingling harmonies, but rather the sound of the trumpet, waving louder and louder, pit reing the caverns of the e. rth and resounding through the encircling heavens. It is a venerable saying of Scripture that the "day of a man’s death is better than the day of his birth " When, in the stillness of the holy Sabbath, his noble soul left our presence, Logan was the foremost statesman of the mighty West, and hereafter, and forever, Illinois will have her illustrious trinity of national greatness: Lincoln greatest of stat-smen; Grant, greatest of professional soldiers; Logan, greatest of volunteer Generals produced by this country. But wherein consists that strange charm of his personality that falls upon our spirits to-day-like a holy enchantment? Whence the magic spell of his presence? Whence the secret of the power of that one life upon 50,00‘,000 of people? Is it sufficient to say that his parentage was honorable; that his intellect was rich in its acquired treasures; that he was the foremost statesman of the West? Is it sufficient to say that he was a great soldier, who proved himself equal to every command ; that he was never defeated; that he defeated defeat and achieved victory’ when all seemed lost ; that from Belmont to Atlanta, and from Savannah to when, at the bead of the victorious Army’ of the Tennessee, he marched through the avenues of the capital of a redeemed country’, ho gave evidences of his martial prowess? We must look deeper and search with keener insight for the secret of his immense power over his country. His was a changeless sincerity. He was never in masquerade. He was transparent to a fault. He had a window in his heart. He was never in disguise. He .was as you saw him. Never did geometrician bring proposition and demonstration in closer proximity than was the correspondence between Logan’s character and his appearance. He was Logan every time. His was the soul of honor. Ho had an innate contempt for everything low, mean, intriguing. He was an open and an honorable foe. He had a triple courage, which imparted to him immense strength. His physical bravery knew no fear. His moral heroism was sublime. But above these was the courage of his intellect. Some mon have bravo souls in cowardly bodies. The cheek of others is never blanched by physical danger, but few rise to the highest form of courage. I.Ogan never committed treason against his intellect. He thought for himself and spoke what he thought. He was loyal to his own conclusion. Friendship could not deter him ; enemies could not make him afraid. A great name could not daunt him. He had more caution than was accorded to him, but it was the caution of intellectual courage. He was the soul of honesty. He lived in times of great corruption, when the strongest men of both parties fell, either blasted by public exposure or by ignorant denunciation. But Logan was untouched. He was above suspicion. The smell of fire was not on his garments. Others made fortunes out of the blood of their country, but after five years in war and twenty-five years in Congressional life Logan was poor in purse but rich in a good name, To his only son, who boars the imago and name of his honored father, ho could have left ill-gotten fortune, but he loft him that which is far above rubies. Like Aristides, Logan can say : “These hands are clean.” He had a self-abnegation which asked no other reward than the consciousness of duty done. Loyalty to duty’ was his standard of manhood. When another was appointed to the command which his merits and victories entitled him to have ho did not sulk in his tent of disapointment, but fought on for the cause which was dearer than promotion. When duty’ demanded the exposure of corruption in his own party he preferred his country to partisan ties. When he was convinced that a distinguished officer was unworthy

of a nation’s confidence ho did not hesitate toincnr the displeasure of friends and the denunciation of enemies. When in 1862 his friends in Illinois urged him to leave the army and reenter Congress he made this reply ; “No; I am a soldier of this republic, so to remain changeless and immutalihi until her hist and weakest enemy shall have expired and passed away. I have entered the field, to die if need be for this Government, and never expect to return to peaceful pursuits until the object of this war of preservation has become ti fact established. Should fate so ordain it I will esteem it as the highest privilege a just dispenser can award to shed the last drop of blood in my veins for the honor of that Hag whose emblems uro justice, liberty, and truth, and which has been, aud, as I humbly trust in God, ever will bo for the right." There were times when his ardent temperament mastered his self control. He was a sensitive, high spirited, chivalric soul. He had pride of character, and power of passion. Ho knew liis power, but he was a stranger to vanity. His passionate nature was intense. His emotional being resembled the ocean. The passions of love, joy, hope, desire, grief, hatred, and anger were strong to him. Ho could love like a woman, sport like u child, hope like u saint. His grief was intense, his hatred inveterate. His anger burned like a mountain on lire. Ho alternated between profound ealms an I furious storms. His calms were like embowered lakes, their placid bosoms mirroring the overhanging foliage of the grassy banks. His agitations were like mountain torrents, leaping', dashing, thundering down their rugged courses, sweeping all before them. When composed the ocean of his emotions was so placid that a little child might sail his boat thereon, but when agitated the great deep was troubled, the heavens grow led, thunder answered thunder. The ethereal fires gleamed and burned, wave mount'd wave, and whole armaments were scattered befi re the fury of the storm. This is the key to the warmth of his friemlship and the bitterness of ills enmity. Logan's Courtship and Marriage. IMurphysboro (IU.) Cor. Chicago Tribune.] Mrs. Logan is a woman of national note, and this not only because of her being the wife of the distinguished General, but more because of her own wonderful talents iu shaping and forwarding the aims of her busband. Mrs. Mary Simmerson Logan, the eldest child of ( apt. John M. Cunninghani, was born in IKIB. Her parents moved from Boone County. Missouri, to Williamson County. Illinois, when sho was but fifteen months old, and settled in Marion. Here other children were born to Capt. Cunuingham. Next to Mary was Hannah. When llumrih grew up she’ married M. C. Campbell, one of a promimmt family of early settlers. Hannah died early iu tlw '6O s, and Mr. Campbell subsequently married Cyrene, a younger sister, who is his present Avifo. Mr. ( nmpboll owns u flourishing store in Marion, 111 , and bus n eomfortnble dwelling-house n few doors off. The present Mrs. Campbell is ten Venn younger than her sister, Mrs. Logan, mid is a slight and graceful little woman. Mr. Campbell is sturdy mid intelligent, n successflu business man mid farmer, mi l mi in tive Demoerutie politiciim. AS hen John General Lornn, I menu tir-t met sister Marv, said Mrs. Campbell, in the course of a chat, "John was about 1 i, and sister ll little thing of :or 8. It was nt the time John was going with filth.u to the Moxiemi war. You Bi e, father hud been Sherif! of this county Severn I yiiis. mid was Kepi e ventutivo in the I egisiuture in IMI mid I'l •, or thereub .its. Ho was well a piainted with Alexander M. Jenkin* who had b< en in the 1. ;isliituro, also, and who win a very prominent lawyer. Mr. Jenkin- win voting Logans uncle. John hud tried to enlist tor the Mexican war in |ns own county Jackson County — but too Oompaayvm mu le up without him. Then he raised some men himself and got ii 1. tter from hi- uncle, Mr, Jo: kins to my father, t up' Cunninghani. who w». imsiug n . ompuny here in Williamson County 1 vtlier hml served in tie- L ;:ek Hunk vv m and when to cull came for troops for Moxiec lie nt once apt to work Copt llnmpton. wi.o hid also fought in the Idin k Hawk war, was also raising u cximpmiv in this conntv. AA illiamsou Countv having promised two compnims. l ather had his comparty tilled wliett John got here, but ( apt. Hmnpt >n Imdonly foyty three men. In the letter John 'in.l Ur. Jenkins m.k> d father to get John a Captaincy if possible, mid in any raw to do v hat lie could for him. John had thir’y - seven men with him till young fellows like hinnelf whom ho had gathered m Jackson County, l ather said it would not look well to give John the post of Captain John was a stri) - ling of 18, and quite slender mid young lookmg—b • miso h< was too y. .mg, and that < ;1 Hnmpt. n, whow.is an Id soldier, sbonUftO.o the p -t. It was then . i. vd that John seven men should go into ( apt. Hampton s eompany and John bo made First Lieutenant, sister Alary , who. I say, was then a little thing of 7 or s. was w mlerfully bright, mid father was tci. , !v proud of her. Sho was the smartest girl nt the school. AVhib' the companies w< re getting ready to march John stopped Bometiiiie.i at father s un i sometimes ut Air. Ciimpbi H's. One day father hud Mary on h s km e when John came in.and father ays. in the joking way he I.nd : 'John, if you distinguish y ourself in the w ar, I don't know but what I 11 iet you marry Mary here. Some jokes passed about Mary being John Logan s sweetheart, and some months later, when father ami John were with their regiment hi Mexico, mid father gi>t u letter from Mary, ho gave it to John to rend, saying ; 'Here's n letter from your sweet heart, John.' “Father and John were mustered out together in ls|7, " continued Mrs Campbell. “John went to studying law, and father, who had been made verv p»x>r by the w ar. soon afterward went to California to dig for gold that was the time of ti e gold fever. While father was gone Mary whs a great help to mother, helping her to support the family Mary did the household work and helped the neighbors, and sowed nt night mid attended school daytime- and though Only nine 01 ten years old, was the best worker ever whs Father came back from California no better oil than when he went uwuy, but 6(x>n afterward was appointed Registrar of the Land Olhce at Shawneetown. AVe moved there in 1852. Meantime John had been made Prosecuting Attorney, and moved t;> Benton about the same time we wont to Shawneetown. .An old friend of John's, Samuel K. Casey, lived at Benton, and induced Jolin to go there ho as to bo near tho center of his judicial district. John used t > come to Shawneetown in his regular court circuit, and I guess always had his eye on Mary, hough she was onlv 11 or 15. Father was Clerk of the Court and some other things beside 1 and Office Registrar, mid Mary helped him in his Avriting. In c • Mary was sent to st. A incent Con* vent in Kentucky—we avil'o all Protestants, but this was the only place in the country where girls could get advanced education — and she staid at the convent. I think two years, or nearly that. She might have staid longer if she hadn't got lovesick. I saw in some paper that Mary graduated at this convent-well, she didn't. She didn’t stay long enough. Sho could have graduated if she had w aited, but she was in a hurry to marry John Logan. John saw he- during vacations and holidays—ho had a good deal of business in Shawneetown those times. Probably he was as much in Shaw neetow n as he was ut home in Benton. Mary was only 16 w hen John said to lather one day: 'Captain, you promised to give me Mary, ana I expect you Avill be a man of your word. I want to marry her.’ Os course, Alary was the apple of father’s eye, and was rather young for marriage anyhow; but as Mary wanted to marry John, mid as John wanted to marry Mary, tho wedding came oil within three months, "They wore married at father's house in Shawneetown. AV. J. Allen, known as ‘Josh’ Allen, and now as Judge Allen, who moved to Springfield a couple of years ago, and who was John's partner in the law business for awhile, was best man, and Alias Ann Hall, now Airs. Dobbs of Alount Vernon, was bridemaid. Mary. I remember, wore a beautiful lavender silk dress, and looked as pretty as a picture. She looked very young—looked even less than she Avan, and that avus only about 16. She Avas ninety-six pounds’ weight—l guess she's 196 now. There Avas a big crowd there. There Avas more fun and less formality at weddings in those days.”

The Cause of Gen. Logan’s Death. [From the Medical Record.] The case of tho late Gen. Logan appears to bo one of those rare ones in which acute rheumatism causes a rapid an I fatal issue. On Doc. 12 Dr. J. H. Baxter of Washington, D. C , was called to see him, and found him suffering from acute rheumatism, involving tho right wrist. Ho improved until the 17th, when ho had a relapse, the hips, ankles, toot, and both wrists becoming involved. Brain symptoms also appeared at this time. Athough there was some temporary improvement on tho 21st and 22d, tho symptoms on tho whole became gradually’ more severe, tho intervals of full consciousness shorter, until early on the morning of Dec. 26, when he became comatose. Ho died twelve hours later. The cerebral symptoms wore those of congestion of tho brain. Acute rheumatism is so rarely a cause of death that some complication is expected and almost always found in fatal cases. When deaf h does occur it is, as a rule, with cerebral symptoms, as was the case with Senator Logan. Such symptoms are most liable to develop in persons whoso nervous system has been subjected to tremendous strains or to tho toxic effects of narcotics and stimulants. No doubt tho exhausting political and literary labors of tho doceascd had made it possible for the rheumatic poison to attack and paralyze his nervous centers, thus bringing to a fatal issue a disease that in 97 per cent, of cases is perfectly free from danger to lifo.

AGRICULTURE. Keeping Potatoes Tico Years. It is possible by putt ng potatoes in a cool place to keep a few over until tho soeoml year, but it will not pay nor be practicable on a large seal x Even if potatoes aro kept from sprouting there is considerable loss of weight from drying out, and tho second spring, if lott so long, they aro scarcely tit for oitiier planting or eating. AVo are practically dependent each year for our seed potatoes on tho crop grown the previous season. Savina Hen’s Feathers. It is a too common practice in many farmers’ families to burn tho feathers of fowls killed for the table, under the idea that they aro not worth saving. Chickens’ fejithers are quite valuable. They do not make so soft a bed as those of tho goose or duck, but aro superior for pillows whore too much elasticity is not healthful nor comfortable. They have, besides, too much manurial value to bo Avastcd, being very rich in ammonia. The coarser feathers should be throAvn into tho manure heap, where their decomposition Avill add largely to its value. Soit, Crops, ami Moisture. Tho interesting roiearchos in Germany of I’rof. E. AVollny nave shoAva that botli soil and crops have a great itiflnonee upon tho proportion of moisture in the atmosphere. Othor things being equal, tho atmospheric moisture is greatest over humus soils, least over sands, and takes an intermediate position over clays. I he air over Hat and concave surfaces is moi'ster than that of adjacent slopes. Ground inclining to the north contributes more to the moisture of tho air than southern slopes, while easterly aud westerly iucliues take au intermediate place. The moisture is greater over a plant covered tract than over a bare soil, and increase with the density of the vegetation. Among ordinary crops, meadows impart most moisture to tho air; then follow perennial fodder plants, such as clover and lueom; then summor crops, which have a prolonged vegetation, such as turnips, maize, oats, beans, and potatoes; then those of briefer growth, as tlax, rye, barley, and peas; and lastly, winter wheat. Coal Haste in Aarieulture. .Air. J. A. Urice, of Scranton, I‘a., recommends the use of culm, or coal waste, in agriculture, by reducing it to dust and applying it to land to dai kon the color of tho soil, produoe porositv and stimulate plant life. His opmion that Lenetits will bo derived from this application is confirmed by the experiments ho has made. A dark color of tiio soil is usually asso'iilted with fertility, and w ith reason, for it promotes tho absorption of heat, and thus makes tho soil wiirmer and prolongs tho season of freedom from frost at both ends. Mr. Price’s observations of the effect of colors on soils side by side, and otherwise precisely alike, showed that a vigorous existence was maintained on u soil darkened by waste coal, greatly in excess of that of the adjoining strip, winch was left in its original condition. So in tho quality of porosity, m a soil treated as the author recoin mends—a blue clay or hard pan taken from an excavation and fertilized with organic manures—it was found that greater porosity as well as improved color was given, and the two sections, treated and untreated, i xhitnted all the peculiar features of two ditTere.it sii,*. Ihe corn upon tho culm charged section exhibited n vigor of grow tli of tap and stay root, and of stalk and ear, that was far ahead of that of the other secti >n This santo result has been maintamed through several plantings. Similar effects were observed w ith Inna beans. Sine > coal contains nearly nil of the substances requisite for the he utliy growth of plants, it is reasonable to suppose that its application will have the effect, ns it is gradually decom posed by chemical action, of a positive manure. Tho fertilizing results of this kind begin to reveal themsidvos in the second year.

Farm Notes. The problem of successful farming consists in making the soil increasing y fertile. Profit comes of high fertility and excellent tillage. Oiu.vw and inorganic matter in the soil is what forms and fattens the plant Like the overfed animal, th? soil sometimes suffers fr.om indigestion. I’oison from b. es, hornets, spider bite, etc., is instantly arrested by the application of equal parts of common i.ilt and bicarb.mate of soda, well rubbed tn on the place bitten or stung. A nugget of agricultural wisdom from a cultivation, and barnyard manure contain, as a rule, all the necessary constituents of plant food. Sixer the organization of the American Homological Society, nearly thirty-eight years ago, more than OtM named varieties of fruits have, by common consent, been discarde I and their places in the catalogue tilled by better sorts. A standing antidote for poison by poison oak, ivy, etc., is to take a handful of quicklime, di-solved in wat r, let it stand half an hour, then paint the poisoned parts with it Three or four applications, it is said, will cure the most aggravated cases. It will take about S,OO0strawberry plants to an acre fifteen in lies apart, four feet between rows. At three feet each way, the usual distance in field cultivation, the number is 4,840 plants. It will pay’ every person who has a rood of ground to cultivate a bod of strawberries. Dby j arts of plants take up water with great force. In 18S2 a steamship with a partial cargo of peas wmt ashore and sprung a leak. By’ the swelling of the peas the decks were thrown apart. Iho sain; extraordinary force has been exhibited, too, frequently by cargoes of corn or wheat In Europe the fact is noted tint in countries where tho gooseberry 11 mris'ies the grape, except in hot-houses, is u failure. The same is tru in the United that's of tho English varieties. But special cultivation, with shade, mulching, an I moisture, will enable crops of even some English Varieties to produce large crops except in specially unfavorab'e years. STOCK BREEDING. Our Native Coirs. The early settlers of .New England came from England byway of Holland, where they resided several years. They brought with them the best comb.nation they could then.get of the good pom s in tho breeds of both countries. It cost so much to bring over a cow that only goo I cows would bo shipped. The best milking cows of our native breeds show the dark-marking characterist e of the Dutch and Holstein . reeds as imported now. Only’ lack of detinito aim has been the reason for our failure to bu Id on this good foundation a superior breol. But, ot course, lack ot aim is always excuse enough for not hitting any thing. When rias (lain Fastest. Tho rule that young animals gain more rapidly’ in proportion to the fobd consumed has an apparent exception in young pigs. As soon »s old enough to be fed they ar» given a diet so plentiful ami rich that their weak digestive organs are heavily’ overtasked. I his ,is especially true where corn is the staple feed, as it is in large sections of tho country. _ 1 orn, as a main feed, should bo abooed until they’ tiro a year old. By this time their digestive organs will acquire power to digest even tho richest food. If fed while young with oats or barley meal in summer, and a little cornmeal as cold weather approaches, the pig s health will bo unimpaired, and his largest gain made while young. _______ Is Ilog Cholera Tneurahle? Ever since the general knowledge of hog cholera there have boon many remedies proposed. Eminent vet binary surgeons and commies oners of diseases of domestic animals have recommended treatment, and yet quite recently farmers are met with the surprising dcclaratio i that hog cholera is an incurable disease. But notwi h t mding all this a Kansas farmer writes to a Western paper as follows: “When tho cholera got among my hogs 1 put corn on a brush heap and burned it The hogs ate tho ashes and charred corn. Thon I put coal oil in milk, a few spoonfuls to each hog, and fed that to them 1 have not lost a hog.” Now, if tho disease can be prevented or cured as easily’ as that, farmers should know it, an I not bo discouraged by theory, “It can’t bo cured.”— (lirin^ntown Telegraph. Pbof. Huxley says it would require nearly 1,000,000 barrels of herring to supply the cod ‘on the Norwegian coast with one breakfast.

NUMBER 28.

INDIANA STATE NEWS. —The county officers of AVarren County have moved their offices into* the new court-house. It. I’. Daggett, of Indianapolis, and J. O. AVright, of Lafayette, were the architects, and Charles Pearce it Co., of Indianapolis, the builders. The cost of the removal, including the interest on the bonds, is about SIB,OOO. The removal Avas begun the first of last June, and was to be finished by January 1, 1887. In the basement story are tho rotary jail, jailor s residence, and furnace rooms. On the first iloor are the Clerk’s, Auditor’s, Treasurer’s, Recorder’s, and Sheriff’s offices and Commissioners’ room; on tho second floor tho court-room, County Superintendent’s office, jury and grand-jury rooms, and tho judges’ private rooms. Tho building is heated with hot air. AVarren County now has a court-house equal to any in the State, taking into consideration its cost anil the size of the county. There was a great deal of dissatisfaction among tho tax-payers at the time the order for the removal was made, but this has died out until scarcely anything is heard of it. —Clark Moore died a bachelor at Richmond, w ith as little love for the church as for women, but he thought more of schools and children. Ho leaves all his real and personal property, including about two hundred acres of laud, to finally go to the school fund. After devising that his debts and funeral expenses shall be paid, and that nd religious nor sectarian services should occur at his funeral, Mr. Moore thus disposes of his property: “He appoints Joseph Ratcliff and Clem AV. Ferguson as trustees, and they are to hold his property for twenty years ami so invest it that an annuity shall he received, ami this annuity shall be paid to the deceased’s father while he lives. After that the income derived from the estate shall be used in educating the deserving poor children of AVayne County, the trustees to select the children as they may deem best. At the end of the twenty years the estate shall revert to the school fund of the State of Indiana. —A new society, and one that is’in every way worthy of the confidence and support of the people, has been organized at Kokomo. The society is to be known as the Associated Charities of Kokomo, and has for its object the relief of the unfortunates and poor of the city, and is composed of a committee from every church and secret order in the city. The Executive Committee is composed of the ToAvnship Trustee and clergymen of the city. The following officers were elected for tho ensuing year: I’resulent, Hon, M Itou Dell; Vice Presidents, Hon. A. F. Armstrong and AVm, Trueblood; Secretary, AV. 11. Murphy; Treasurer, J. C. McAlpin. Jacob Brashear, a farm-hand iu the employ of D. H. Hedden, living lavo miles west of Vincennes, Avas burned to death. He had returned from a hunt and sat doAvn before a large open fire-place to enjoy his pipe, when he was seized Avith an epileptic fit and fell in the fire. He was the sole occupant of the house at the time, but even in his delirium lie managed to extricate himself from the fire and rushed out into the. yard. When Mr. Hedden returned from the field, two hours later, he found the dead body of Brashear lying near the Avell. His clothing was nearly burned off, and his flesh was cooked to a crisp. —AV. H. Barker, of Evansville, a brass molder and finisher, has died of a peculiar case of poisoning. His system became impregnated Avith the dust or filings of brass about three years ago, which gradually impaired his health. The artery in one of his arms turned into a stony substance, and the pulsations could not be felt at the wrist or temple. During the last few months Mi. Barker has been confined to his bed, having almost entirely lost the use of his limbs. The case has attracted considerable attention among the physicians of tho city, who pronounce it a remarkable one.

—At a meeting of the Trustees of Purdue University it was decided to establish a course of domestic economy, in addition to the regular course of study. There has been considerable pressure brought to bear on the Trustees for some time to induce them to take this step. President Smart is in correspondence to secure a competent person to take charge of the department, and if Miss Emma P. Ewing, of the lowa Agricultural College, wishes the position, she can get it without doubt. —The general store of A. S. Norton, at Fairmount, Grant County, known as Norton’s Fair, was entered by burglars, who blexv the safe to pieces with powder. The crooks secured a large sum of money and valuables, consisting of jewelry and notes for large amounts. Officers are after the thieves, who were tracked some distance by footprints in the snow. They are professionals. Kokomo is still on tho natural gas boom. The South Kokomo Natural ^jus and Oil Company struck a skWK ****'•>oF gas recently at well No. 3, at a depth of 907 feet. From present indications the stockholders are sanguine of a rich find. Excitement is high, mil nothing else is talked of but natural g-s and Kokomo’s bright future. —Daniel Frye, a Pan Handle brakeman, was run over by part of a train near Bradford, crushing both legs. A telegram was sent to his wife, upon which Superintendent Watts ordered that he be brought to Logansport without delay. He now lies at his home in that city cared for by a physician and his wife, with little hope of recovery. —At Clinton, James Dean, while fooling with an old revolver, accidentally discharged the weapon, shooting his mother through tho head and killing her instantly. ■—A geodetie survey’ bus been made in Finley Township, Scott County, and it has been decided to build a tower on tho knob just east of what is known as Finley Knob. The lumber is on the ground, and tho tower is to be 140 feet high. It is rumored that this survey developed the fact that this is the highest land in the State. —Columbus Bidwell, living near Pleasantville, was found dead in an open field near his house, having loft home a few hours before to go on an errand at a neighbor’s house. The Coroner is now holding an inquest.