St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 13, Number 18, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 29 October 1887 — Page 1

VOLUME Mil.

MOTHER. BY BURT ARNOLD. A jjneeomo quiet reigns to-ni. ht I’ve never felt before; per mother’s passed the portals bright Where angels guard the door. And while I sit in the twilight low, My thoughts they wander wide ; It seems to mo not long ago Since I knelt by her side, A chubby boy with flaxen hair— Her love enshrined mo then ; And hud I always sat me there, What might my past have been ! For steadfast as the stars aboveNe'er wav’ring to the end, Next God above, my mother's love Was my best earthly friend. So swift the years have glided on. They all seem yesterdays ; And I review, in the past that’s gone, Her guidance of my ways. Oft-times I start, amid the gloom, As if her voice I heard; And list my ear around the room That I may hear her word. But 0. alas! her voice is still— I ne’er may hear it more. Unless it be that, by God’s will, We meet at heaven s door. And if he deigns to hear my prayer, ■How happy 1 shall be ; I'll keep me pure to meet her there On heaven s shelt'ring lea. So God, who caugcth each one's worth Through actions here below, The golden crown, she won on earth, Has placed on mother s brow. Now—lonesome quiet reigns again— I feel is as before , The lonesome quiet’s in my I rain—'Twill never leave me more. | I A MODERN MAGDALEN. BY M. C. FARLEY. CHAPTER Vil I.— [ ONTINUED. ] Then a bell rings. The girl shows her down stairs and leaves her at the open door of the dining-room. As Loo pauses for a moment in the doorway, undecided whether to advance or retreat, for save her own presence the room seems empty, a slight exclamation startles her. 100 looks up. A tall man, attired in plain black, evidently the butler, for he carried the pantry keys in his hand, and a waiter loaded with fruits stood on the s'deboard at his hand, where he had apparently just placed it. His face turned ghastly white, and his eyes fell as they encountered her own. Where had she seen him before ? She was puzz’ed. His face was familiar; surely at some time or other she had seen him before. He recovers himself, approaches re- > pectfully, and points out the seat she is ■ to occupy at the table. Then she knows him. She is startled —terrified. “Scarth!” she ejaculates impetuously. The butler's eyes meet her own now. There is a steely gleam in his pale blue orbs that frightens her more and more. "Miss is mistaken,” he says civilly, but with a subtle note of warning in his respectful tones. “I am Kibbey, the butler. ” “But you were—l am sure you once waited at ” began l 00. “Never!” denies Kibbey vehemently “And they found that diamond when ” “Miss is deceived by a fancied resemblance which she imagines I bear to one whom she has met under difficulties—perhaps,” politely says the butler. "My name is Parker Kibbey, and I have the best or references. ” At this moment the Madam enters the dining-room, leaning on tho Captain’s arm. They now all take their places at table, and tho butler serves them. It is well for her future peace of mind that Loo sits with her back to the Lutler, and that she cannot see the awful look of fear and hate in the butler's eyes. For, more plainly than words can say it, that look says—murder. CHAPTER IX. A MAN WHO ASKS FOR JUDITH DONTTHORNE. fMl| eMBW ■ ’ J weeks had gone by since the dreadful X. Y. Z. Railway d saster. Miss Lafarge has | convalesced rapidly, tnd her broken a nn is doing very well, indeed. In six weeks’ time she has accomplished much. She has won Miss Chid- , icy’s affection and her unbounded confidence, and she rides out daily behind I the dreadful black ponies, whose an- I tics are a fresh source of amusement, for she laughs and applauds heartily, i whether they stand st 11 in utter rebellion, or go tearing madly over the country roads. -in six weeks’ time she has improved “er sight acquaintance with the inmates of Bywater l’ark, has gained the dislike of Madam 1 undas, the hatred °f Loo, and won from the Captain the Warmest admiration. Luring the six weeks Captain Hazard “as made many calls upon the fair sufferer at Stubblefield, and appearances ^ould indicate that his fickle heart has “eeu almost caught in the meshes the enchantress has spread for him. In six weeks, poor Loo finds that “tone walls, and cushioned furniture, g “nd silk gowns are no more conducive ' perfect happiness than were the | ^d-floor back bed-rooms, the sham ■ Danos, and the cotton frocks of her lo rmer days. ^ ^be “gets on,” however, most unex■gfGctedly with Madam Dundas; and this H® a comfort. But to outbalance this is

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the growing fueling of dislike which she feels for Miss Lafarge, whom sho often meets now, and the overpowering jealousy which consumes her whenever she sees the Captain and Miss Lafarge together. Not that the ga’lant Captain suspects this feeling on loo's part. To the Captain Loo is ice itself. He shall never smile at the readiness with which she surrendered to him, she says angrily to herself. For tho Captain thinks nothing of airing his supposed conquests in 1.00’.s hearing, and rather boasts of his prowess as a lady’s man, as is usual with men of this deliWuum i~ । I /T I hiV'W J? 3^B®# Lou paused foi a moment in the doorway. scription, greatly overestimating himself. To quite ward off the Captain’s suspicions—should he have any—of the real state of affairs, I oo accepts the attentions of a gentleman whom the Captain had introduced to her notice. The consequence be ng that Littlefield soon becomes her shadow or second self, greatly to the Captain’s own discomfiture. “What she can see in that follow,” remarked the Captain to his confidante, Madam Dundas, ’is beyond me. Why, he is nothing but a conceited ass at the very best. ” Six weeks go by. The grass begins to grow in little green patches on the lonely grave in the country cemetery. It is quite the middle of June now, and here and there in the consecrated ground are bunches of rose trees in lull bloom. Engrossed with her flirtation with Hazard, Miss Lafarge has no time to give a thought to the quiet sleeper whose place she has usurped. But if Miss Lafarge has no time to think of the dead girl, there is one that does. The “motherly woman,” in her infinite sympathy and goodness of heart, goes often to the little burial ground to muse by the lonely grave of the stranger, whoso untimely death she is never tired of talking about. As the weeks go by she speculates upon tho subject, aud wonders if no body will ever come to claim the very few personal effects that belonged to tho dead girl, Bhe believes that somewhere in the world there is some one who loved and cared for the one that had met so terrible a fate. And she is, therefore, not much surprised one sunny morning to seo a strange man walk up tho path leading to her door. And she is at once interested when the genieman inquires, in a voice • which betrays emotion, carefully modulated though it is: "Is this tho place where Judith Donithorn died?” The “motherly woman” nods in tho affirmative. “Yes. In this house, and in this room,” throwing open the door. “Will you walk in and sit down? ’ The visitor enters and glances about him. He is unprepossessing in his personal appearance, and his face is sinister. His figure is short aud heavily built, wiih shoulders so very broad as to suggest suspicion of padding. A thick black beard straggles down either side of his full, rod face, and sweeps upon his breast. His eyes aro keen and twinkling, shrewd in expression, and of a red color. His clothing is black and evidently much too tight for his body, Upon his head is a silk hat, and he carries a cane. His walk is a stride, ami ho glances around the room with an air of scorn. "You say she died in this room?” Tho “motherly woman” ajain nods in the affirmative. “In this room, near tho spot Wiere ! you now stand. ” “ A ho was with her when she died?” ' he asks, biting his lip. “Only the doctors.” “Was she conscious?” “No. Directly after tho train was wrecked, a number of the wounded were brought here. Amorys; them was the lady you have asked about. She was terr bly burned, and in an unconscious condition when she arrived. She lived but a few hours, and died without realizing her extremity.” “And she was alone?” “Yes. But stop! There was a lady who ” “A lady!” he ejaculates incredulously—“a lady?” “A lady!” affirms the “motherly woman.” “And the lady'said sho was a friend of the girl that died, and I . guess she was. 1 know she sat by tho ■ body, and she paid the undertaker, and I she followed the corpse to the burial I ground. Then she went away. She said the poor dead girl had no friends of any consequence.” The visitor bit his lip again. "Have you anything in your possession now that belonged to the lady I that died?” The “motherly woman” nods swift- ' ]y. She disappears presently, only to \ return again with a traveling-bag in I her hand. “This is all,” she says. “All!” Ho grasps tho bag, opens it. There is tho usual paraphernalia; combs, brushes, powder-box, pencil, । and lastly—a diary. The stranger snatches at this diary. He scans page after page in an eager ■ fashion, then he closes the book sudj denly. “It was hi rs,” he says in a i hushed tone, more to himself than to his interested companion. “Still ” Then he bites his nails savagely, and . glowers at h s companion. i “Where is her purse?” he asks.

WALKERTON. ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDI ANA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1887.

The “motherly woman” colors indignantly. "If the lady had a purse, it will bo found in tho traveling-bag” He rummages through the bag. There is no sign of a purse. “Describe the lady. Was sho fair?” “Yes. I should say so. Though her face was so dreadfully burned that one could hardly tell what it must have looked like before tho a cident. She had brown hair and blue eyes. lam certain she was a blonde.” “How was she attired? ’ “In black. I thought it was mourning; she had crape stones in her ears. >’m certain now that sho was in mourning.” Then the visitor’s head sank fai’ down upon his breast. A sigh escapes him. Herouses himself to find the eyes of the “motherly woman” sternly fixed upon him. “I am satisfied,” ho says shortly. “At first i thought perhaps it might be a case of mistaken identity; but jour description has dispelled that thought. Bi t abouttho lady you spoke of; the one who acted the part of the ’good Samaritan.’ Who is she, and where is she now ? ’ The. “motherly worn m” draws a ear J from her pocket, and with some pride | places the card in the outstretched hand of her visitor. He reads the name easily, for it is written in a clear hand: ; Alabion Lafarge, ; ; Stubblefield. : Then he puts tho card carefully in his pocket. "With your permission, I will keep this,” he says, speaking in a more civil tone. “I would like to c ill upon the lady and thank her in person for her kindness to my dead relative.” ‘ Shall you take the bag?” Ue shook his head in the negative. “ You may have it, and the contents too. I have no use for either.” Then he turned upon his heel, and walked quickly iu the direction of the I cemetery. CHADI ER X. THE QUESTON er MARRIAGE.

OO has been singing to Madam. The curtains tire draxva, the wax candles lighted in their silver sconces, Nand Mad a m he r)self reclines at f-ull length upon the oldfashioned couch that has stood for years between the drawingroom windows at Bywater Park. In the alcove at the piano 1 oo spends her evenings; for Madam in-

1 sists upon being sung to each day, and ! Loo really sings very sweetiv. Iler । voice is not one that wdl make her fori tune as a cantatrice; but it is sweet and low, and fairly well cultivated —the kind of voice we all like to he ir crooning old-time ballads in the twilight. Evidently others besides Madam enjoy the poor little nobody's music; for Captain Hazard has somehow fallen into the habit of quetly seeking a corner of the drawing-room, as the shadows begin to gather and Loo takes her place at the piano. Loo, however, is quite unconscious of this action on his part She slips into her seat and sings the simple old songs Madam calls for, then when this is done she slips away as quietly as she had come. The little cuckoo clock over the mantel sings out the hour nine as she rises now from the piano. “Good-night, Madam,” she says. “Good-night, my dear,” answers Madam, and the girl Hits away. Tvo been thinking lately,” says Madam Lundas, be koning to the Captain, who leaves his shaded nook and now approaches his friend. “I've been thinking lately that you should marry.” Hazard laughs lightly. “I once thought so too,” he replies. “But you know 1 never could quite make up my mind to oiler myself a sacrifice on the altar matrimonial, after ail.” “Selfish creature.” Madam smiles, then grows serious, “i have thought lately--since Miss Lafarge came to Stubblefield—th..t at last you had met your fate.” “Deuced tine girl, that Lafarge,” | says the Captain. “Not to be compared with Loo.” “Loo is a little, flinty-hearted, coldblooded iceberg.” I “ She is very discreet. I never believed ! Frederic Bolton’s daughter was what : she has proven to be. I have thought : lately, Captain, that perhaps you were right after all, and that it is my duty to provide for her future.” i “I was sure you would come round | at last,” cr.es the Captain, enthusiasticl ally. “Aunt Dundas, you are incomI parable after all. Provide for Loo by j all means.” “Though, by so doing, your own I share of my fortune will be lessened I that much?” “Certainly.” Madam closes her eyes and sits silent for some time. Then she says slowly, and with evident hesitation, “1 made a change in my will yesterday. In fact, made a new will entirely. Captain, I wish it might be so, that the money would remain undivided in your hands after my decease. If you could forget i Miss Lafarge, and transfer your atteni tions to a lady a little nearer home, we might arrive at a solution of a difficulty that troubles me now.” The Captain colors. He understands wha' her meaning is. [TO BE CONTINUED.] The luckiest man is often the most unfortunate. In fact, to emphasize the paradox, there are men whose wonder- | ful good luck In s proved their utter ! ruin. On the other hand, some of the I grandest characters among men, and some of the greatest of life’s successes, , ' have grown out of or been founded । upon misfortune and failure. John L. Sullivan’s waist has been [ belted. But the proper place to belt Sullivan is between the eyes.—Cambridge Gazette. I

A BUSY LIFE ENDED. Death at Chicago of Hon. Elihu B. Washburne, Ex-Minister to France. The Friend of Lincoln and Grant— Many Tinies Congressman—A Notable Figure. Hon. E. B. Washburne, ex-Minister to Fiance, and a conspicuous figure in recent American history, is dead. He passed away at the residence of his son in Chicago, on Saturday, Oct. 22. He had been ill for several weeks, but was thought to be on the road to rapid recovery, and Lis death was a surprise to the cm imunity. He got up in the morning, as usual, and dressed himself, and while he was being shaved.by the barber who attended at the house lio complained of feeling a pain in his heart, which he described as a cutting pain, 'the 1 arber and Mr. Washburne’s body servant lifted him to the bed and bathed his feet, and after sitting there awhile lie said be felt all right again, and then laid down. Some hours afterward he got up to get a drink of water. Mrs. Washburne, hearing him moving about, w ent to his room, and he was almost immediately attacked by the acute pain n his heart. His body servant led him to the bed, and on lying down he turned over on his side, and in a few minutes expired. The only member of tho family present w-as Mrs. Hempstead Washburne. who was holding his hand when he died. Mr. Hempstead Washburne was at his office down town, and was ut once summoned home by telephone. Elihu B. Washburne was born at Livermore, Oxford County, Me., in September, 181 G. He entered the office of the Christian Intelligencer at Gardner. Me., in .lune, 1833. He afterward studied Uw, was admitted to tie bar, went Me t and located at Galen”, HL. in 1810. Being a M'hig he did good electioneering work for his party during the Harrison campaign and was a delegate to the Wl ig national convention which nominated Henry Clay in 1811. M M ashburn was a member of the Nationri M hig Convention which nominated General Scott in 1852, and the same year was elected to Congress through the support of the Free-soilers. He wisre-elected in 1851 by a majority of .5,000. He continued to represent the district term after term, his majority in ISGO rising to 13,511. Mr. Washburne acted as Chairman of the Committee on Coinmi rce iu the Congress of 18(12, mid later became Chairman of tho Committee on Appropriations, lie occupied a conspicuous position in the councils of tho nation during the troublous years of the rebellion. After repeated reelections he at length became the “father of the house,” and as such swore in ns Speaker Schuyler Colfax and James G. Ila ne. He was the opponent of every kind of jobbery, receiving for his vigilance the sobriquet of “the watchdog of the treasury.” Mr. Washburne was a stanch personal and political friend and supporter of Abraham Lincoln. He was also one of Gen. Grant's earliest and best patrons. Being Congressman of Grant's district, he used h's influence at every step of Grant’s career to secure the latter's promotion. It was chiefly through his efforts that Grant was made a Lieutenant-General and afterward General of the armies of tho United States. Mr. Washburne was an opponent of the practice of making grants of the public lands to railroad companies, and frequently voted against extravagant appropr ations for public buildings. He was chairman of the committee of the whole which discussed the impeachment of Andrew Johnson, and brought in the first postal-telegraph bill. The establishment of national cemeteries was also largely due to Lis efforts.

Mr. Washburne was appointed Secretary of State by President Grant in 1889, and resigned his seat in Congress, which he had held for twenty consecutive years. After a brief tenure of office his health compelled him to resign. President Grant offered him the French mission, which he accepted. The Franco-Prussian war shortly afterward broke out, and the delicate questions of diplomacy and international law that arose taxed his abilities to the utmost. He succeeded in seeming from the Foreign Department of France protection and safe conduct out of that empire for all Germans who felt it dangerous to remain. When the Commune raised its banner in Paris, Mr. Washbmne was the only foreign Minister who stuck to his post, and the foreigners of every nation looked to him alone for protection. He remajped in Paris during all the carnage that followed in the wake of the Commune, and made a strong but ineffectuaLetiort to save the life of Arc ibishop Darboy. He received the thanks and recognition of nearly every’ nation for his services to their subjects during the dark days of the siege of Paris. Shortly after the war the order of the lied Eagle was conferred on him by the Emperor of Germany, who also presented him with his portrait in oil and a letter expressing the warmest affection and regard. After President Hayes’ election Mr. Washburne expressed a desire to resign, and soon returned to his native country, making his home in Chicago. He received 4 I votes for President in the Republican National Convention in 18S0. The same year he withdrew altogether from political life and devoted his leisure to literary pursu ts. “Reinaert de Vos,” or “Beynard the Fox,” a satirical poem, written about 1250 by William Van Utenhoven, a priest of Aerdenburg, was for centuries the most popular work ever written. It was translated into many languages. Charles H. Leake, of Goochland County, Virginia, owns a really ancient relic in the shape of probably the oldest Bible in America. It was printed in 1495, only three years after Columbus sailed for the New World, and was sent to this country in 1693. There are a great many’ who would refrain from blowing Gabriel’s horn—unless it is so hot they couldn’t drink it. I One dead woodcock in hand is worth two bald eagles in the bush.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL Notes oh the Lesson for October 30--“ The Harvest and t the Laborers.” s [.From Chicago Standnrd. By Bev. J. M. Coon.] The lesson for tho above date may be found in tho ninth chapter of Matthew, from tho ' thirty-fifth to tho thirty-eighth vorso, and the first eight versus of tho tenth chapter. ' Timo, probably A. D. 29, m tiw winter, near ' the close of the second year of Christ’s ministry. I’laco, cities and villages of Galilee. It 1 is not known from what village the twelve ’ were sent fortlr. SPECIAL MENTION. The ISynayoyue.- —’The rynagogue was tho local, as tho tomple at Jerusalom was tho national house of wor.-hip of the Jews. The origin of tho institution is uncertain. Some Jewish writers have referred it back to the time of the patriarchs, but it probably had its rise during tho period of the Baby.ouian captivity. M hen, under the direction ot Ezra, tho ancient order of things was re-established in Judea, synagogues were providedm the larger towns, as places of assembly tor religious worship, for the benefit of those who could not go oftenvr than throe times a year or less to tho Holy City. In the tunc of our Savior these insulations were very numerous, being found in almost every town and village, however oall. They were generally built by the free-will offerings of the community, and wore maintained in tho same way, or possibly by portions of the tithes. In some ms ances, as in the case of the pious centurion at Capernaum (Luke vii.; 5), they were erected by private inumfieence. lh< Twelve Apostles. "Simon,” hearing. "Peter,” a stone. ‘-James” (Jacob), that supplants. “John,” the grace of Jehovah. "Andrew," manly, a strong man. "Philip,” warlike. “Bartholomew,” gift of God. (Perhaps tho same as Nathaniel, John i., 4G ) “Matthew,” a reward. “Thomas,” tw.n-brother. "Thaddeus,” the breast (called also “Lebbcus, ” tho heart. Matt, x., 3). "Ju las, tho brother of James,” Luke vi.. Hi, and John xiv., 22). Simon the Canamvan,” literally tho zealous ono (“Zclotes,” Luke). “Judas Iscariot,” a man of murder, or confession, or man of Keriotb. (Josh, xv., 25). The first interpretation strikes us as most tilting lor the character. “Wnich also betrayed linn.” He was the traitor trom Ihe first. In tho three lists of Matthew, Mark and Luke, not.co Peter always first, tho threo leading apostles always in tho first division (of four) and Judas always tho last. M hat a variety of talent re; resontod m these twelve men! By them Jesus is to conquer tho world. The Apostle I'eter. Peter's original name was l-iinon— i e. , “hearer.” At his first meeting with our Lord he was given a new name, from which wo have Peter iront the Greek and Cephas from the Hebrew, both meaning “a stone" or “rock.” His original and his new name were sonietinies combined, though he was usually called Peter. Critics have also noted the fact that between tho Lu-d's death and ascension he w.s more frequently called 8 mon, and afterwards simply Peter, lie was a fisherman upon the 8 a of Galilee, and had as parniers James and John, their father Zebedee, and Ins own brolher Andrew (Matt. 1: 18,21; Luke 5: 10). He was undoubtedly a man of cons de ruble |>roperty, and not without education. The statcmuut m Acts 4: 13, denotes that tho apostles were not learned in the schools. II • was a married man, and lived in his own house or that of his mother-in-law (Matt 8: 11). All except tho lowest classes among the Jews ware famitiar with tho Hei tew Ecriptures, especially with th” prophecies concerning the Messiah. Th' Ap'sth James. 1 was a son of Zeb - dee; Ins mother's nam ' was Salome. (Compare Mutt. 27: .56 with .Mark 15: 40.) He : probably resided at Bethsaida; jo nod Jesus l with his’ brother John at the Sea of Galilee ; (Matt 4: 21); is never mentioned in the gospels except in connection with ins brother John; was martyred under Herod Agrippa, A. I). 44 (Acts 12: 2). There is reason to believe that he and Ins brother John were own cousins of our Lord. (Abbott) The Apostle John. He was tho brother of Janies, and of course is not to be confounded with John tho Bapti t Several references in the New Testament indicate that his family was ono of some wealth and social position (Mark 1: 20: Luke 8: 3; 23: 55, compare with i Mark IG: 1; John 19: 27). He appears to have accompanied our laird m His first ministry in Judea, and he is the only one of the evangelists who gives any account of that ministry. He is mentioned frequently in connection with Peter and James uh especially intimate with Jesus (Matt 17: 1; Alark 5: 87; John 13: 23); and of these three he appears to have been tho , one most beloved by our Lord (John 18: 23; 19: 26; 20: 2; 21: 7; 20: 24). Os his personal history subsequent to tho crucifixion little is known. He wont into Asia, exercised a pastoral supervision over the Asiatic churches, was banished to Patmos, and probably died m extreme old ago a natural death. (Abbott). THE MISSION OF THE TWELVE. 1. MTio were sent forth. They were the । chosen apostles to whom and their representatives was committed tho work of the world's evangelization. Christ’s own work was excee iingly limited, but through His apostles it was to broaden and strengthen. But while referring primarily to the apostles, yot it is true that every believer is one who is sent

forth—scut forth out of self to all service, to all classes, to all hands. 2. Why they were sent forth Three general reasons are indicated: (1) Because of the urgent need of suffering humanity; (2) Because of the readiness of the people to receive their message; (3) Because the laborers are so few. 3. By whom they were sent forth. (1) By One who had Him-elf gone forth, (2) Who possessed all power to accomplish His purpose, (3) Who imparted that power to those now associated with Him. 4. How they were sent forth. We see this to have been (1) after careful selection, (2) after special preparation, (3) in helpful pairs, (4) with faithful instruction. 5. To what work they were sent forth. We should never forget that preaching was the great work of even the apostles, towering far above all else in its importance and permanence. This, after all, was their true and high endowment, and one which, unlike miraculous power, was to ba perpetuated through all time. The importance of faitbfully performing the service appears both from the character of Him who enjoins it and from the immense significance of tin message to lost man. And in this work they were simply continuing and extending what Christ . had begun. PRACTICAL THOUGHTS. 1. Missionary effort i.s the inevitable outgrowth of a genuine compassion for a lost . and perishing world. 2. Any church that doos not, by prayer and effort, show a missionary spirit, fails to carry out the purpose for which it has boon placed in the world. A Christi tn church will be a Christ-like church. See John xvii. IS. 3. “And Andrew his brother.” How pleasant to see men called from the same home i circle, to labor side by side in winning souls I for Jesus. [ 4. No one that Christ calls into his service will be left without evidence of authenticity of his mission. Iho evidence may not he in the gift of miracles, but it will bo manifest in graces equally conclusive. * 5. The work upon which the apostles were i sent forth, was a work to which they were ost pecially adapted, and for which they had been previously trained. Subject of lesson for Nov. 6, “Confessing Christ,” Matt. x. 32-12. The man who does right more from I. fear of punishment than from love of ■ right, is not prompted by the highest and purest motives. Once let him be convinced that ho is secure from detec- ■ tion, and he is I able to develop into a I full-Hedged criminal in the twinkling of an eye. Daughter—Mother, may I go in to bathe? Mother — Yes, my darling ; daughter; put on that thousand-dollar dress and then sit on the beach and let a New York reporter describe your be--1 witching costume, but don tgo in the water. — T

PITH AND POINT. The sculler should be like the oyster, quite at home in his shell. The more reckless a ship captain is the more wrecks he is apt to have. Which is tho best of tho four seasons for arithmetic? The summer. It’s a happy woman who can select her new bonnet on first sight. — Cincinnati Telegram. When trousers show signs of bagging at the kneesit begins to be hard to pay for them.— Puck. “Blessed be the tie that binds,” was never sung by the mart who was going to be hung.— Carl Pretzel. Maryland produces a man so old that ho can remember when tho earth was flat. — Alta Californian. The June bug disappears in J une, The lightning-bug in May. Tho bed-bug takes his bonnet off, And snys, “I’ve come to stay.” A subscriber asks: “What causes ring-worms?” Wo do not know positively, but suspect that ring-worms are caused by (ho worm i goi g into politics. — Newman Independent. Until once with a picnic party we stumbled over a wasps’ nest we had never fully grasped all the outlying aud circumjacent wisdom of the old saying that nothing runs like a woman

sting. I The man who raised a cabbage * head has done more good than all the ■ metaphysicians in tho world,” observed 1 Professor Bronson. “Then,” observed 1 Professor Jones, “your mother ought - to have the premium.” , Husband—Wife, hand me out my Sunday coat.—AVife—But, my dear. । this is not Sunday; it is only Saturday. । “I know it’s only Saturday, but I’m going to attend a fashionable dinner, and ( it will be Sunday before I get back.” — Te.ras Siftings. Stranger (in law office): I want to seo Mr. —er —the gentleman with the red beard.who usually sits at that desk by the window. Intelligent I^awyer's Clerk Well, that gentleman’s gone for , tho day, sir; but there’s a gentleman with a long white beard who'll be back directly. A Vehmonter, attending a prayermeeting in Massachusetts, heard an elderly gentleman express his feelings in the following manner: “And we should all. my very dear friends, bless the Lord that wo were not born in Africa or Vermont, nor any other dark corner of tho earth.” Omaha Girl What! /Art at funerals? Boston Girl—Yes, indeed. Handpainted coffins are all the style in Boston now. Some of tho latest designs are most gloriously beautiful. “Beautiful!” “Distractingly. It is all wo can do to keep people from committing suicide. ” — Omaha World. “Terrible storm that, last evening, George.” “Didn't hear it, old man.” “Didn’t hear it? Man alive, it thunderod lit to wake the dead?” “Ha, 1 I thought I saw lightning, but I didn't hear any thunder. An old schoolmate of my wife's is visiting her and they haven't seen each other for ten years. ” —Burdette. A son of the Emerald Isle meeting a countryman whose face was not perfectly remembered, after saluting him mo: t cordially, inquired his name. “Walsh,” was tho answer. “Walsh, Walsh,” responded tho Paddy, “are ye not from Cork? I knew two old maids there of that name. AVas ayther of them yer mother?” “By the Avay,” inquired the scholarly visitor, “I suppose you are xvell supplied with light literature, Mrs. Beanblower; have you on your shelves Arnold's ‘Light of Asia?’” “Wall, no, Miss Vassarine, I don’t b’leove I have. Since Matilda Jerusha came so uoar being blown up with camphene ten years ago, Mr. Beanblower has sot his foot down flat agin any of them foolkillers. I know well enough there ain’t a drop of ‘Light of Asia’ in the house. You see we confine ourselves entirely to taller candlei and kerosene, and Daul says them ain’t no more dangerous than sperm ile, and they come a tarnal sight cheaper.” — Carl Pretzel’s National. The improvement of City Government. If popular government and universal suffrage are to have any real meaning, the people must be placed in a position to know what is going on; whereas all our present arrangements, whether by the secrecy of committee-rooms, or by that of executive officials, who never appear before the public at all, are such that the people never know anything of that with respect to which they are yet to judge and to decide. In the New England town-meeting, the selectmen appear one or twice a year before the whole assembly of the inhabitants, and are cross-questioned by individuals. The test is so severe, and the judgment follows so swiftly at the elections, that corruption and even political intrigue are almost unknown. When a city becomes too largo for such a meeting, the ehangcis made to a city government, withone or two representative coureils. In theory these councils should do the work of the town meeting—that is, watch the course of administration, enforce responsibility, and keep the people informed. In practice, they get possession of a large part of the administration, break up and destroy responsibility, and effectually conceal both their own doings and those of the executive. The offset and safeguard iu entrusting extensive powers to a mayor is in providing a tribunal before which he and his agents may promptly, easily, and continuously be held to public aci ount. If a body of ono or two hundred men from all parts of New Aork were to assemble, say once a month, being debarred by law from any interference with administration, having no power to dictate any action or to vote any appropriation except upon proposal of the executive, but with full power of suggestion, of criticism, and of veto; if the mayor and his chief officials were to appear publicly before this body at each session to submit their plans, answer questions, and ask for votes of money, the people would bo perfectly able to judge of the character and actions of their servants, and to express their opinions at the polls. Then, and not till then,, can we hold universal suffrage responsible for failures of government. — Gamaliel Bradford, in Scribner's Magazine.

NUMBER 18.

INDIANA STATE NEWS. —Macey AVarner is a convict in the Michigan City penitentiary from Vincennes for murder. AVarner is a tough citizen. Not long ago he took offense at a man named Harris in the penitentiary and cut his throat. AVarner had a hearing in Clark County Court, and made the following speech: “Your Honor and gentlemen cf the jury, when I was 15 years of age I was sent to the Hou^h of Refuge. From there I escaped and returned to Indianapolis. AVhen a policeman attempted to arrest me I shot him. Fur this I served five years at Michigan City. AVhen I was released I was employed by a commission house in Indianapolis and was sent to Vincennes to assist in shipping poultry. While there a saloon-keeper put me out of his house, followed me to the street and struck me. I shot him dead, and was sent to the prison in this city for twenty-one years. Frank Harris insulted me and I cut his throat with a shoe knife. Ido not want to go to the prison for life, and desire you tc either acquit me or bring in a verdict of death.” —The warden of the Northern Prison has filed his report for July, August, and September xvith the Auditor of State. The receipts and earnings are as follows: For July, $8,597.03; August, $9,421.77; Sep-

tember, $8,233.32; total, $26,252.12. The expenditures are: For July, $9,849.11; August, $7,646.51; September, $6,466.08; total, $23,961. Ther” was on hand at the beginning of the quarter $15,728.51, of which SB,OOO was remitted to the Treasurer of State. The balance on hand October 1, 1887, was $1(1,018.93. The excess of receipts and earnings over expenditures for the quarter is $2,290. —At Muncie, while George Ludlow, an employe of the Indiana Bridge Company’s works, was oiling the machinery his clothes caught in the line-shaft, which was making several hundred revolutions per minute, and before he could extricate himself his body was torn to pieces. One arm was torn from its socket, and both feet were entirely broken off by being whipped against a beam. He never knew what hurt him, as no sound was heard by any of his fellow-workmen. He married the daughter of Dr. F. M. Hicks about one month ago. • —The proprietors of the immense brickyards at Chestertown and Porter Station, n Porter County, are highly elated by the Ending at the former place of a large bed of u peculiar sand used in the making of brick. This sand has heretofore been shipped clear from Portsmouth, Ohio, and Elizabeth, N. Y., at a cost of $lB5 per car. It can now be had at 50 cents a load, and will greatly lessen the cost to manufacturers and consumers, the latter being principally Chicago parties. —Charles Shirley, of Crawfordsville, was found in a coin-field at St. Joseph, unable to help himself, with blood oozing from a large gash in his head and face; he also had bruises on his body. His story is that he was riding on top of a freight train on the Indiana, Bloomington and AVestern road, and went to sleep. AVhen ho became conscious he was lying in a ditch near the track, unable to move, but after several hours he crawled into the field. —AVhat is pronounced by physicians as the most remarkable case of tuberculosis of the system to be found in medical records is reported from Montpelier. A post-mortem held on the body of a man named Jackson revealed the fact that all the organs of the deceased were full of tubercles, and that the heart had almost entirely wasted away. He had been sick less than a year. —Caleb Poynter, a prominent and wellknown farmer of AVasbington County, died recently from blood-poisoning. A few weeks ago a carbuncle made its appearance on his hand, and at one time healed, but an apple dropped from a tree, struck him on tho hand, and from tho soreness came poison that in a few days went all through his system and resulted in death. e —Workmen engaged in sinking an artesian well on the farm of James De Wolf, near La Porte, struck a strong flow of gas at a depth of 250 feet. 55 hen ignited the flames shot up several feet, and severely burned some of the men who were induced to apply a match by the discovery of a peculiar hissing sound emanating from the well's casing. —The wife of Fred Govenette stole jewelry from the house of Mrs. Alice Lewis, at Evansville, where she had been employed to do washing. The articles were recovered from the Gevenette residence ou search warrant. Govenette then got drunk, went to Mrs. Lewis’ house and shot her three times. She died, ana Govenette is under arrest. —The State Bureau of Statistics has received and tabulated returns from all the connties in the State, regarding the indebtedness mid expenses for the year ending June 30, 1887. The bonded debt for the year was $4,228,825; floating debt, $701,121; gross debt, $4,929,916; sinking fund, $382,423. Leaving a net debt of $4,517,523. —Burglars entered the residence of Geo. Beam, at Larwill, and robbed him of $ 100. He awoke just as they were leaving, and gave chase, when they turned and tired at him. He had drawn SBOO from tho Fanners’ Bank at Columbia City to buy hogs and gave his partner SSOO to keep over night, and thereby saved it. Chas. Blue committed suicide at Mentone, AVabash County, by shooting himself through the head. He was 28 years of age. Cause unknown. Ho was comfortably well off and had no good reason, although he has for some time been in ill health. Moses Carter, of Jeffersonville, was shot in the face by an unknown man who called him to the door of his residence. —AVhile hauling coal a horse of William Powers, a farmer of Parke County, balked, and he commenced xvhipping the animal, and fell dead in tho road. He was 13 years old, married, and leaves six children. Death resulted from heart disease. —Michael Fenton, jr., son of Michael Fenton, of Logansport, was fatally injured in the AVabash yards at Detroit. It is supposed that he attempted to alight from a passenger train while going to his work. —The physicians of Indianapolis and the Health Board are considerably disturbed over the rapid spread of typhoid fever.