St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 13, Number 40, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 31 March 1888 — Page 1

VOLUME XIII.

A SWm«E BY HUGH CONWAY. CHAPTER IL Much as I disliked that young man, I Was bound to confess that he looked provokingly handsome as he stood bareheaded in the moonlight, watching the wreaths of smoke from his cigar curling about in the still air. I could now scan him quite at my ease. My courage had returned, and I felt myself insured against discovery. My only dread was that the two men would begin to talk secrets. In such a case, my keen sense of honor must, of course, make me reveal my presence. I made a firm resolution that I would not play at eavesdropping. Alas, for poor humanity! In a minute I was straining my ears to catch every word. Yet how could I Help it? Heritage Rivers was the subject of their discourse. “I hope you found your companion at fiinner a pleasant one?” said Mr. Ramsay. “Oh, yes; very pleasant,” replied Mr. Hope carelessly. “She’s a nice sort of a girl, I dare say.” A nice sort of a girl! The wretched man! I hated him! “We think a great deal more of her than that,” said that dear old Mr. Ramsay. “Indeed,” replied his companion, without evincing the slightest interest in the matter. “Yes —indeed, and indeed, ” echoed my old friend, “But, joking apart, did you not notice she bids fair to be a most beautiful woman?” It would have needed little more to have brought me from my lurking-place on purpose to kiss that good old man! Vincent Hope laughed quietly. “To tell you the truth,” he said, “I dca’t think I noticed her much. She seemed to me of the ordinary school-girl type. I don’t care much for school girls.” I dug my nails into my hands and ground my teeth. Handsome as the man looked in the moonlight, I could have killed him then and there. “Yet,” said Mr. Ramsay, “I noticed she talked pretty freely to you.” The shrug of Mr. Hope’s shoulders almost maddened me. “Yes; but sad nonsense,” he said, “although it was rather amusing at times. Os course, it’s not fair to judge her now. She is very raw, and, I should say. rather awkward. If properly looked after, no doubt she will grow up to be a decent sort of a young woman. ” Raw and awkward! He spoke of meme, whom many of my school friends called Queen Heritage, from the stately and dignified manner I was supposed to assume at times. A decent sort of a young woman! That I should hear a man, one, moreover, in his own opinion a judge on such matters, gravely set this up as the standard to which I might arrive—if properly looked after. It was too much; the fall was too great. And as the horrible thought flashed across me that his description might be true, his prediction correct, tears of sheer mortification sprung into my eyes. Even Mr. Ramsay’s almost testy rejoinder gave me no comfort. “Oh, nonsense, Hope! She will grow up a beautiful, accomplished and clever woman. You judge her wrongly. Talk to her again in the drawing-room; there she will be wore at home.” “All right, I will,” the wretch answered. “But at present I want to talk to you about more important things than young ladies. I have to-day been offered the editorship of the Piccadilly Magazine. Shall I take it?” “I congratulate you. But it is too serious a matter to decide out here. We will talk it over by-and-by. We must join the ladies now. I see every one else has gone in. ” “Then I suppose we must,” said Mr. Hope rather ruefully, and tossing his cigar away with a half-sigh. I waited a minute; then I peered out, and at last ventured to creep round the laurel and reconnoiter. The broad back of my candid critic was just disappearing through the dining-room window. I shook my fist viciously at it. I watched Mr. Ramsay follow his guest, saw the windowclose and the blind fall; then I flew- at tep speed to the library, whence I had made my exit, entered noiselessly, and threw myself into a chair, feeling that my life was blighted. The room was faintly lighted up; the door was closed; I was alone with my misery; for misery it was; I use the word soberly and advisedly, without a thought of jesting. Fortunately or unfortunately, I had heard myself appraised at my true value. My merits had been weighed by an impartial hand; I had been judged and condemned. I was a failure. “Raw and awkwark.” “A decent sort of a young woman”—the words ate into my heart. No expressions could have been devised which would have wounded me more deeply. He would give me another chance in the drawing-room. Would he? I think not, Mr. Vincent Hope. Nopower on earth shall take me there to-night. I turn the gas up, and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is disheveled, my eyes are red, and I cannot help fancying that my nose looks rather coarse. Yes; it must be true; I am not even good-looking. Beneficial as it may be for one who is not without vanity to learn the truth, I hate with a deadly hatred the man who has revealed it to me. Solemnly I declare, somehow, that some day I will have my revenge. I am very young, which is an advantage to one who may have to wait a long time for a certain object. Oh, yes; I can wait—even for ten, fifteen or twenty years, I can wait; but I will have revenge, full revenge. So I raved on and on, growing more tragical every moment, until I broke down, and began to cry again. I had barely dried my eyes, when Clara entered the room. “What, Heritage!” she cried; “you here! I have hunted high and low for you, but ^ever thought of looking here. Come into the drawing-room; we must sing our duet. ” I pleaded a splitting headache; I could not bear the hot room. I should go to bed at once; and, in spite of Clara’s entreaties, to bed I went, and had the pleasure of dreaming that I was sticking stilettos and scissors into Mr. Vincent Hope. This was so comforting that I was quite sorry when morning came and I found it was but a dream. “Wasn’t he delightful?” was Clara’s first question when we met. “Wasn’t who delightful?” “Mr. Hope, of course. The other men were fogies.” “Now, Clara; look here. Once for all, I tell you I found that young man detestable—simply detestable! 1 hate him. I never met any one I took such a dislike to.” Clara’s blue eyes opened in amazement. “I thought you got on so well together,” xhe said. “He asked for you in the drawing-room, and seemed quite sorry to hear you were ill. We all liked him immensely." He asked after me! A piece of impertinence—a gratuitous insult—a piece of superfluous hypocrisy, which w-ere it possible, made my wish for revenge stronger. “Well, I loathe him,” I said, “and there’s

COUNTy it. loseplj Infteprabent

I an end of it. I won t even talk about him.” | I was as good as my word, and Clara, for the want of a listener, was obliged to desist from ringing the changes iu praise of Mr. Hope. I left Twickenham two or tb.ee davs after this. As 1 drove to the station. Mr. Hope most likely on his way to Ramsay’s house—passed the carriage. Clara was with me. so the young man bowed to us collectively. I made no sign of recognition. ‘’Heritage,” said Clara, “that was Mr. 1 Hope. Didn’t you see him?” “Was it?” 1 replied. “I had quite forgotten what he mas like.” For a beginner, this was a pretty good • fib. After telling it so calmly, I felt I was getting on. “Raw and awkward!” Oh, no! I did not forget either the words or the speaker. When I declare vendetta, I mean it. I Five years passed by. I was twenty-two. I had seen many people and many things. ’ Either for better or worse, I had changed in much, but still retained my knack of ■ never forgetting a foe or a friend. Incredible as it seems, my auger against Mr. ■ Hope was keen as ever—my wish for re--1 venge as strong. The injury he had un- | wittingly done me had been greater than, even in my first burst of rage, I had imagined. During the interval his words 1 kept recurring to my mind, and hindered the growth of proper confidence and selfesteem. A long series of pleasant little 1 social triumphs alone permitted me to say at last that his prophecy had not been fulfilled. But now, after five years, the more I thought of the annoyance, even anguish, his words had caused me, the more vicious I felt toward him; the more resolved to compass revenge when the opportunity occurred. Oh, yes; I was a good hater—not a doubt of it. I could carry my stone seven years in my pocket, then turn it ana carry it seven years more, or twice seven years, never for a moment forgetting its ultimate destination. But when should I have the chance of hurling it, and how should I act when the chance came? Except in the street, casually, I had never since met the man. Vincent Hope visited no friends of mine save the Ramsays. They left Twickenham shortly after my visit, and now lived a hundred miles from town. I had stayed with them several times, but my foe had never appeared. Os course, I had heard a great deal about him. He was now quite a famous man. To keep myself posted up in the light literature of the day, I was compelled to read his books, and in honesty I am bound to say I admired them, although I detested the author of them. Surely we must meet some day. I went out a great deal, and I heard he was much sought after. But our paths as yet had not crossed. It was winter. I was spending some weeks with new friends, who had taken a great fancy to me—kind, hospitable people, who like to have a constant stream of visitors passing, but very slowly, through their house. The Lightens were a wealthy county family, noted for their open-hearted hospitality. I never stayed at a gayer or pleasanter place than Blaize House. It was not very large; but from the way in which it seemed to extend itself to accommodate the numerous guests, my belief is it must have been built on the plan of an accordion. I can only a count lor its capabi.ities by this theory, Except from the tiny village which gave or took its name, Blaize v,as miles away from everywhere; but its resources, so far as amusement went, made it immaterial in waat part of the world it stood. The family consisted of Mr. Lighton—called bj’ everyone, even his guests, the Squire; his wife, a fitting companion to him, who shared his pursuits and heartily seconded the welcome he gave to everyone; and two daughters about my own age. These may be termed the nucleus, the standing congregation of the establishment. In addition there were two sons who turned up unexpectedly and at intervals; and two or three cousins were invariably sojourning there. Add to these, again, the floating population in the shape of visitors who came and went, and you will realize that it was a merry house. Breakfast was just over; we had been longer about it than usual, the weather being too damp and drizzly to tempt us out of doors. Letters were being read with the last cup of tea. The Squire selected one from his pile, and tossed it over to his wife, remarking that she would be glad to hear the good news it contained. Then it went from hand to hand until I had the pleasure of reading: “My Dear Squire: I have just written the delightful word Finis at the bottom of a page, which is the last of my last immortal (!) production. I will do no more work ! for weeks, but will take the train to-mor-row and come to Blaize House, in time, I hope, for dinner. Ido not apologize for this short notice, knowing there is even more joy within your gates over the uninvited than the invited guest. “Yours always, Vincent Hope.” Vincent Hope! It must be my enemy. The allusion to his literary pursuits put that beyond a doubt. My time had come! I could not have selected a fairer field on which to mete out the vengeance I had stored up. As I read that letter, I positively blushed with pleasure, so vividly that I feared people might jump at entirely wrong conclusions. I thought of nothing all day but the way in which my enemy was delivered into my hands. The delight of having at last the chance of paying out the critic for his criticism produced a frame of mind which seemed to urge me to go into quiet corners and laugh at my own thoughts. I had plenty of time to mature my plans and draw soothing pictures of the effects of my revenge. I resolved to risk no chance meeting with the foe; and feeling that a good beginning would be half the battle, before six o’clock I went to my room to arm for the fray. Remember, I am confessing, not jesting. I sent for my maid, and bade her take down my hair and brush it. If, as her deft fingers braided my locks to my satisfaction. I had thought the girl ■would have comprehended me, I might have quoted certain lines of of Mrs. Browning’s which kept singing through my head: Comb it smooth, and crown it fair; I would look in purple pall, from tb.e lattice down the wall, And throw scorn on one that’s there. Anyway, she crowned it fair enough, and, by my express desire, clad me in my most becoming gear. Then, a few minutes before the bell rang, I sent her away, and stood alone before the cheval glass surveying myself with a contented smile. For mv plan of revenge had at least the merit of simplicity; it was to win that man’s admiration—if possible his love. Upon the the day when he offered me the latter, and I coldly and scornfully rejected it, I should feel that I had squared all accounts between us in a manner highly satisfactory to myself. How do women win men’s love? I did notouite knoyv; but I fancied, if conducted properly, the operation was not of a difficult nature. I hoped and believed I should succeed. Although my resolution reads badly, and sounds even worse, I comfort myself by thinking that as I meant to refuse what I had laid myself out to win, no one would dare to censure me or accuse me of very unbecoming conduct. And ' now what are my weapons with which to conquer? I looked at myself in the glass, i It may read like vanity, but I feel

WALKERTON, ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA, SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 1888.

L that old Mr. Ramsay’s prediction is fairly ! verified. Although I blush as I appraise myself, I know I am no longer the slim > school-girl—but that I am something not, ' perhaps, far off a beautiful woman. I am tall. My figure is certainly good. My > i complexion will bear any test; and some- . | thing tells me I could, if I wished, make Ji my eyes dangerous. So much for nature! ; ! As for ait, I have chosen the prettiest of ; ; many pretty gowns, and my gowns now ; have a knack of sitting well upon me; so I i am not ashamed to walk gracefully across i the room, and, couitesying to myself in I the glass, say approvingly to my doublet | “Yes, Heritage Rivers', you have growl* i into a very decent sort of a woman—a very I • decent sort!” Having refreshed my mem . j ory by the repetition of that peculiarly ' | galling phrase, I gather up my skirts and i | sally forth to victory. Fortune favored me. As the greatest i stranger and last arrival, it would have bee-* । in Vincent Hope’s province to take ou» . hostess into the dining-room had wo not I been favored that day with a county mag : nate, whose claim to precedence could noi • be lightly overlooked. It seemed but nat- , ural and part of the plot that the Squire should present Mr. Vincent Hope to Mb* . Rivers, and for the second time in thei.lives these two should be seated side by side sipping their soup in unison—but this i time, if wounded vanity was to be the result I of the contiguity, Nliss Rivers would not be the victim. i So I began : r “ You have come straight from town, Mp —Vincent—I fancied the Squire said? W<. > all call him Squire, you know.” , “Oh, yes. He is an old friend of min®, i But he called me Vincent Hope, I sus- > pect.” This gave me what I wanted, an exons® t for looking him full iu the face—an act i which, besides being a fitting tribute to his t fame, enabled me to observe how time hud treated him. So I lifted my lashes and > looked straight at him. If time had not been quite idle with him. it had treated : him kindly. He was handsome as ever, i The hair near his temples being just flecked with gray did not detract from his good looks. I thought his features looked more marked, and the whole expression of his face more confident and powerful even than of old. He had won success, and no doubt, fully realized and enjoyed the fact. ’’Vincent Hope!” I echoed. “Not the Vincent Hope?” I guessed instinctively that flattery was not a bad gun with which to open fire. By this time bis name was so weli known that it would have been affectation to appear to misunderstand me. He bowed and smiled. “How delighful!” I exclaimed, my look. I am ashamed to say, confirming my words. “Now, tell me how I should talk to you. Ought Ito give you my opinion about all the characters in your books; or ought I to sit silent and awed, treasuring up every word of wit and wisdom you may let fall?” “Neither. I must beg. I have just thrown off the harness, and come down to enjoy the Squire’s clover. lam trying to forget there is such a thing as work in the world. ” “Very well. I shall take you at your word, after, as in duty bound, saving I have read all you have written, so far as I know.” His wish to avoid the topic of hi" own achievements may have been a genuine one’, but, nevertheless, he seemed pleased with my remark, and, looking at me with a smile, said: “Exchange is but fair. I scarcely heard what the Sqnire called yon.” “Rivers —Heritage Rivers.” “Heritage Rivers,” he echoed musingly. “It is an uncommon name; but I fancy I have heard it before.” “Ob. please don’t say so, Mr. Hope. I did think I had one original thing to boast of my name. How would you like, after looking upon all your plots as original, to find them but plagiarisms?” He laughed. “Many are, I fear. But you are trespassing on forbidden ground. Let us seek fresh pastures.” We did so. We talked all dinner-time. I think we talked about everything under the sun—talked, moreover, almost like old friends. When he differed from my opinions he told me iu well-chosen words why he differed. And as he spoke I whispered ever and anon to myself: “Raw and awkward—a decent sort of a woman.” Yet now Mr. Hope was condescending enough not only to listen attentively to my words, but to reply to them as if they had weight with him. All this was very delightful. The first steps to revenge were smooth and pleasant ones; for there is no need to say that I hated him as much and felt as vindictive as ever, He was walking straight to his fate. I felt it, when, just before Mrs. Lighton gave the signal for departure, he dropped his voice almost to a whisper, and was good enough to say that, to him, the peculiar charm of this particular dinner was that such an agreeable interchange of ideas would not be ended with the night, but might be resumed to-morrow. Coming as it did from such a famous person, I could only glance my thanks, blush and look pleased at the compliment. When, with the rest of my sex, I rose and walked to the door, I knew that his eyes were following me; and I knew also that, although clever, captions, critical those eyes might be, they could find little fault with my bearing or general demeanor. At Blaize House it was understood that the gentlemen, especially the younger ones, were not allowed to linger over the wine. When they entered the drawing room I was sitting, almost hidden from sight, in a recess near the window. I noticed that Mr. Hope, as he came through the door, looked round, as if in search of some one; and as, when at last he discovered my retreat, his search seemed at an end, I could only think the some one was myself. However, we had little more to say to each other this evening. All the children of the house were his friends, and had many questions to ask him. We had music and singing as usual; but I made some conventional excuse, and did not take my share in them. Before we parted for the night, Vincent Hope came to my side. “Surely you sing, Miss Rivers'?” he said. “A little, but I am not in the mood to sing to-night.” He pressed me to make the attempt, but I refused. Thinking I had done quite enough for the first evening, I kept nay voice in reserve. But I talked to him for a short time' about music, and found him well versed in the art, and, of course, an unsparing critic. He was very hard on the ordinary drawing-room playing and singing, and by no means complimentary to the performers of the evening. I laughed, and told him how thankful I felt that something had warned me not to show my poor skill to such an able but severe judge. My words led him to believe that my talent for music was a very third-rate one. This was exactly what I wished him to think. 1 He was soon drawn away from my side, and he spoke no more until the general good-night took place, and the men went 1 off to the billiard-rccm, and my own sex 1 to their couches. Once more I courtesied ' to Miss Rivers in the cheval-glass, and told her she had surpassed my most san1 guine expectation. Then, in a very happy frame of mine, I went to bed. [TO BE CONTINUED.] ► The letter S is as mean as thunder It makes our cream sour cream

JUDGE WAITE. I —_ The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court Dies Sudden- , ly at Washington. ! His Death a Surprise to Those Who Did Not Believe His Illness Serious. । ‘ I Chief Justice Waite, of the United States Supreme Court, died at his home in Washington, on the morning of Friday, the 23d of March, of pneumonia, after a brief illness. His death was wholly unexpected, ’ as nothing like a fatal result was apprehended of the severe cold he contracted last Saturday evening. His last appearance officially was on Monday, the 19th, when he was present in the court-room to ' present the decision in the telephone case, which he had prepared, biit was not feeling well enough to read the opinion, Jus- : tice Blatchford performing that office for him. Follow.ng are the particulars of the ' distinguished jurist's sudden demise, as I telegraphed from Washington: j He was not considered dangerously ill, and ' i no one was in the room with him but a hired I nurse when he breathed his last. Mrs. Waite left Washington about ten days ago to spend | ■ the spring months in California. A telegram ! has been sent announcing the death of ! 1 her husband. Last Saturday night Judge Waite attended the reception given to the authors by Mrs. Senator Hearst. It was a damp, disagreeable ' 1 atmosphere and a searching wind. During ; the reception his coachman was stricken with । apoplexy, and fell off the box. There was considerable excitement, and Judge Waite ex- ‘ posed himself by leaving the heated parlors I and going bareheaded and in his evening suit i ; into the open air to giie orders about the I I treatment of his servant and the disposition of his horses, and after the reception was over he walked home. Several of his friends offered their carriages, but he was an unusually [ robust man for one of his years, and preferred । to walk. His shoos were thin, and, together with the exposure in the earlier part of the ' evening, gave him a severe cold Monday morning his cold was so much worse that ho ’ , was induced to remain nt home, but it was not ; until Wednesday that ho had a physician, and I then only incidentally He consulted Dr Ruth, a surgeon in the navy and a friend of the family, who hapj>eued to call nt ’.ho house. Dr. Ruth gave him ionic simple remedy Wednesday morning. but When he c ,l!ed again the sr.me day told Miss Waite that her father was threatened with । neumoaia, un i recommended that the family physician, nr. I. A. Gaiduer.be sent Lr. ibursda? morning Dr. Gardner would m t permit Judge Waite to leave his bed. and s< n’ ii mot essional nurse to take care of him. Thur day afternoon young Me. Waite arrived from Cincinnati. The son and daughter sat up with him until after midnight, and then retired witbout feeling the slightest aj prehension. About 3 o'clock Friday morning young Mr. Waite wus awakened by In aimg groans from his fat hoi 's chamber, and found that lie was breathing heavily and seemed to be sulloring n his sleep. Ho assisted the nurse to turn hi.a over when ho seemed to rest more comtortablv and the groaning censed Shortly before 6 o’clock a. m„ when the nms went to give to him his medioiue, Judge W alto was found to be almost pulseless. The son and daughter were awauened, and the doctor sent for, but before he came the venerable man hud ceased to breathe. The following official notice of the death of 1 Chief Justice W aite was issu -d by the Depart mi nt of State: "Tothe People of the United St teo The painful duty devil.es upon the l o iae.it to announce the death nt an early h< ur tins morning, at Ins residence i i this civv. of Morrison it. Waite, Chief Justice Os the Un ted Stat « hich exalted position he In d tilled simo Mur h 1, ls~i. with honor to himself and high usefulness to bi country. In testimonv of respect to the memory of the honored dead it is ordered that the executive ollicos m Washington be closed on tne da> i of the funeral mid bo draped in mourning h r thirty days, and that th ’ nation'll tin.. - be dG played at halt mast on th 'buildings and on all ; the national vessels <.n tne day of the funeral. “By the President. T. 1 . Bav .vkp, Secretary of state. ’’ i Both houses of Congress upon assembling | passed lesolutions eulogistic of the deceased, • and imi. e ilately udjOurned Hie minounee- j I ment of Justice Waite s deut'.i produced a pro- ' ' found impression upon the 1 resident, with j whom he was on terms of warm personal iriendship. BIOGII WKICAI. I Morrison itemick Waite received his ap- । ' pointment as Chief Justice of the United states | January -1, 1*74, and was th ■ sue essor i f Chief : Justice Cmise. lie was tb.e seventh in the line I of distn .uished jurie s who have held the Chief - ; Justiceship of ti.e United Mi.tts. In h nr al ' town of Lyme, Conn , tne old house nt which | ! he was bi i n Novemoer '.'.l, ISI6, still stands. ; I At the age of 1" he entered Yule < ollege, from ! i which lie wis graduated in ls ;7 in tin class | which included William M. Evarts, Edwards i I Pienepont, I’rof. Benjumin Silliman, and I ' other distinguished men. He began the study | ; of law with his father in Lyme, and con- I i eluded his preparat oil for tne bur in the | i ofti. e of Samuel W. Young, then a promI incut lawyer iu Maumee City, Ohio. He ' : formed a partnership with Mr. Young shortly ! I after being admitted in 183!>, and the year | I after he took as his life partner a young lady | । of his native town. He was elected to the ! Ohio Legislature iu 1849. and the following year the firm of Young & Waite removed to Toledo, ; where they built up a very large ami remunerative practice. The first position in ! which his ability attracted the attention i cf the whole country was that of coun- ' sel for the United States in the tribunal of | arbitration which met at Geneva iu 18.T--*. He : was associated in this delicate negotiation i with Caleb CU'hing and William M. Evarts ! Their tact and good judgment largely served : to terminate the difficulty arising out of our 1 civil war between the United States and the ! United Kingdom. The year after his return ! ! home in 18/3 he presided over the constitution- I I al convention of Ohio Chief Justice Waite had a charmin; home in | 1 Washington, at 1415 I street. Here Mis. Waite, : a lady of refinement that well fitted her for the i social tasks imposed upon her by her husband's । exalted official station, has presided as hostess, I and so far as her delicate health would permit j ’ has been a leader of society Mrs. Waite was j ■ the second cousin of the Ch es Justice, and he: । name before marriage was Amelia Warner, j ' She is the great-graudda ighter of Col. Samuel j I Selden, a distinguished officer of the Bevolu- j I tion, and Maria Selden, a granddaughter of this | 1 same Col. Selden, was Chief Justice Waite’s i mother. The Waite family is one of the oldest fam- I i ilies in the country. Thomas Waite, who was i i a member of Parliament, signed the death l warrant of Charles II , and the family moved j to this country soon after the restoration. It । was about thirty years after the landing of the | j Pilgrims that Thomas Waite settled at Lyme, | Conn., and this man’s son was one of the first ! Presidential electors after the war of the I Revolution and east his vote for George Washi ington. Judge Waite s father was chief justice I of the Supreme Court of Connecticut, and he ■ studied law under Matthew Griswold, one of i the most noted statesmen of early days. Like | I Judge Waite he whs a graduate of Y ale and : eminent as a. jurist. He left tho Supreme < I bench, however, at the age of To, and died I I at 80. Though the distinguished Chief Justice was j in his 72d year, one who met him iu tne street ; i even recently would have ventured the predie- I i tion that he would live ninny v ears yet to grace j i the bench. He was of medium height, with i ; broad shoulders and sturdy figure. Everything i about his appearance indicated a splendid i physique. He stood straight and was dignified I in carriage. His largo head was crowned with j a thick growth of iron-gray hair. His fore- | head was broad and full, the eyebrows dark i and heavy. The mouth and nose were large । and full of character. He wore a beard about ; his face, but his upper lip was clean-shaven. His figure was a familiar one on the streets, i as he almost invar ably walked to and from his house and the Supreme Court chamber in the I Capitol. In the summer of 18<3 Chief Justice Waite 1 was one of the party with President Arthur, I Gen. Sherman, Gen. Sheridan, anil others who : went on a trip through the Yellowstone Park. I On that trip he met with an accident that ! caused consider able alarm at the time. While 1 en route from the Mammoth hot springs to the ' । falls the Chief Justice’s saddle slipped from ■ ' under him and he had a bad fall. At first be felt but little pain from the effects of the tum- , ble, but after riding two or three days he was I obliged to stop, and the surgeons who accompanied his party made nn examination which j elicited from them the opinion that the Chief Justice had suffered a slight fracture of the nintb and tenth ribs. Tho Chief Justice was obliged to abandon h s trip and returned East. Going to his old home at Lyme, Conn., he soon recovered from the effects of the accii deut. The Chief Justice leaves a widow and two sons.

THE SUNbAY SCHOOL. Notes on the Lesson for April 1—“ The Marriage Feast.” Il ? rom the Chicago Standard.] Th ' lesson for above date may be found in the first fourteen verses of the twenty-second chapter of Matthew " The kingdom of heaven is like unto.” It is like unto a great many things. Learu from Christ’s similitudes. By heaven’s ordi nation and '"T,ord s sanction, the common, over day things . earth nictnre lorth the ineffable mysteries of the skies. God’s stars shine in the pools, God’s eyes look at us from tho flowers, liis voice is iu the fountain aud the tempest —a heavenly admiration, this earthly estate. “What is it like?” it is what mon will always wait to know. See tho ^lik of tho Bible. There are between three auu four hundre 1. “Come let us make man after our likeness,” reads the first chapter of Genesis. Presently, a great master in Israelis speaking of “a prophet, of thy brethren, like me. ” It seems but a little while aud we behold “1 ho Spirit descending like a dove and lighting on him” whose lips thenceforth are lull of words of gracious likening ;— ‘-like one nt' those,” ‘'like to a grain of mustard seed,” i “like heaven,” ‘'like to a treasure,” ‘'like amercbaut,” “like to a net,” “like a householder.” Earth was lull of celestial reminders to the ; heaven-born King, And at last John is saving for onr infinite comfort, “We shall be’ like him.” last us seek to be like him in a spirilual sensitiveness. Keep in the reverent spirit of Heino and Wordsworth, and Gott- | hold, and tho pious sages of old. Let the earth preach to us daily sermons about heaven. Books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, aud good in everything. .4 marriage for his son. Feasting is pleasant. And if it be a marriage-feast, it is doubly delighttul. When, however, the King gives it, and spreads and servos it in honor of his own son, who shall bo able to | compass the sumptuous splendor? God once and again sets forth tho pi an of redemption by the image of a royal bridal banquet Sup- ' pose we begin to view it as such? Live aud rejoice as tho child of a king, waiting for his inheritance. Friend, are you biudeu? Arc you? Are you? Go in this hope; talk about it more. 1 here is room for all. Why hide our privilege as if fearful that others will take our seat? Do you recall the old colored auntie? she found tho 1. ml. and aU t । herself she rejoiced in Him. Foor, simple soul, sho was afraid some one would take h“. hope from her. And no wonder, for the? had taken everything else. But one day slw slipped into a white-folks' meeting. Some one rose and spoke of the love of Jesus. “Why, bc’n got Him:" cried the astonished woman. Another spoke in a like gla l strain. “And h l’s got Him!" she cried. Another, and another, and another followed, till the ove’ Joyed slave broke out, “Ble*s ttie Lord, they' all got Him'.” Send forth his srrrants to ■all. Ther. needs little urging to a supper if one i» ' hungry, just a word is enough or a beckoning hand, or a door thrown op u. But the I."rd goes farther; having bidden, he sends forth his si rvants to call. Here is. in par , the ei rand of the child of God. It is to summon to the feast. We hear that call very far bar . M ies lifts it i n the mount. Aaron -p akit from tx'hind the tern pie curt uns. Rival, Baiah, Malachi reiterate m the hearing ot th people. John the Baptist, though speaking in stern tones, was but the harbinger of : feast. Uhrist himself gave it tullest enuue a i tion, ami his, “If any man thirst let him । eome unto mo aud drink,’' answers to the ! gospel cry of that elder prophet, “Ho, ever? one that thirsteth. i otue ye. Every ministei . every Uhr st an to- lay is a voice sent forth tr call. “Who’ll buy the gift of God'*" cries th* Aiexan Irian «ai r carr er. “Wlio'H '•</,, tl « I gift of Go.i?" cialis the Christian. 1 hen h'ou ! '' •ot Who? the Jew? Yes, ■ for ho was first bidden, and he declined tlu : invitation; is declining it still. But we need : not wear nut our wrath or our pity on those Hebrews of old. Th ere were ’would-nots” outside of Palestine. There are deaf ears still i amongst “the bidueu.” There are cliildien of ; the kingdom with their backs on the feast It' i we understand this lesson iu its first applicai tion to refer to the go-called elect, then seo ; what a multitude of nominal Christians there i are eating at the world's tables rath r than in i the Ixnd's •'banqueting hall." “Woodshed I Christians, I eail th m," said Munhall, referi ring to those persons who claim conversion and yet stay outside of the church. What • better, so far as sDirituai feasting is coucernI ed, are some who have even made the groat i roufessioa? Called to a banquet, but they i onlet not. No, not c'o>7</ not; dared not; Hiuq and solely would not That tells the | truth. '1 hey made light of d. That was what they i did at the second call, when all things were i ready. That was their response, for example, • to the “voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” Jew and J Gentile, they made light of it. How? you say. j By tiniply going “their ways,” deliberately, i defiantly, and doggedly; “one to his farm, ■ another to his merchandise.” The word, lit- । erally, means nothing more than to overlook. I It was enough for the publican simply to de- | cline to “exact no more’’ than “was appointed,” | for the soldier to forget to “do violence to no man.” That was making light of the Jordan proclamation. To make light of the preaching of to-day one need not point his finger at the pulpit inderison; one need not hoot aloud at the old gospel. He can just go his way regardless, working his farm, managing his merchandise, Christian that he is, as if the word had not been spoken. He is making light of it. Enough that, indeed, to make high sport for Satan and his angels. An inconsistent Christian. No heed for him to laugh. The devils will do the laughing for i him. The remnant took his servants. To be sure, । murder is of a piece with disloyalty. Cain’s j murderousness followed shortly after Eve’s ■ disobedience. One needs only to look on Jeremiah imprisoned, and John beheaded, and the Son of God crucified to see the legitimate fruits of alienation from heaven. So far as we give scorn to God’s message, we ■ hurl stones at his messengers. When we are I declining and denying God’s gracious truth j we are standing with the multitude about the ! cross and mocking at the meek face hanging i there Part and parcel with all persecutors of righteousness are those who break with i righteousness. Verily the Christ is ofttinies i wounded in the house of his friends. Burned up their city. That made an end j of the poor nothings of earth to which they I had gone their wavs. Where now was their | “merchandise?” Where their spite'? All suffered alike. Destroyed as murderers, their city burned up before the armies es the King, It is the certain end of all who fight against God. It is, as Psalm 11 says, “the portion of their cup.” And yet these were bidden to partake of the cup of the Lord. They chose | earth rather than heaven, and reversed tlm choice of beauty for ashes. That was a bad preference. Not having a wedding garment. It is the i lesson ot nnworthmess recapitulate 1. ■ Whether bidden first or called from the highj ways, none but the worthy shall enter: and | he who comes in “to behold the guests” can i .’bide no disloyalty. It is the Son’s feast. tad all who enter inust put on the Son’s garments of righteousness made ready for them. That absent garment meant more than a sin of omission; it war positive contempt of court; it was deliberate denial of the King's colors. He did not have a wedding garment because Jie “would not,” aud he went out with the others who “would not,” to his own place. Next Lesson—“Curist’s Last Warning." Matt. 23: 27-39. Farm knowledge is not all the knowledge a farmer needs, any more than a knowledge of money and percentage is a full mental equipment for a banker. We must know more about men and affairs around us, and get our stock cf general intelligence away up, if we would bG men among men. The American Dairyman is authority tn the statement that skim-milk is worth Jbore to feed back to cows that are in milk Ihan to pigs or calves. Prof. Stewart says it is worth 25 cents » hundred pounds to laix with cut feed-

CONGRESSIONAL. | .— Work of the Senate and the House ot Representatives. The President sent a brief message to the Senate on the 22d of March, in reply to the resolution requesting him to transmit to the Senate copies of the minutes anil daily protocols of the meetings of the Fisheries Commissioners. He inclosed a copy of the letter received from the Secretary of btate on ’he subject, and said he hoped the information contained therein would prove a satisfactory answer to tho resolution. Secretary Bayard's letter is in effect that the discussion was carried on under the pledge of secrecy on both sides, that no stenographic report was mane, and that it wus impossible to comply with the Senate's request. In the Senate thirty-one measures were passed, the most important bill being the House bill authorizing the President to arrange a conference between the United States and tne republics of Mexico, Central and South America, Hayti, Sail Dbmingo, and the empire of Brazil, with amendments upon which a conference was ordered. The Senate also passed a bill reported from the Fostofilce Committee reducing the rate of postage jn seeds, cuttings, bulbs, roots, scions, etc., to one cent for every four ounces. The House passed the following bills: Providing that on the trial of all civil and criminal cases in Circuit and District Courts the Judge shall charge the jury in writing, if so required by either part?-; providing that judgments and decrees of United States Courts rendered within any States shall be liens on jiropertv in the same m aimer and to the same extent as judgments and decrees of the courts of that State. The urgent deficiency bill was favorably reported to both houses by the conferrees, and was passed by both branches. The bill appropriates $0,876,500. The House bill to provide for the purchase of United States bonds by the Secretary of the Treasury came up in the Senate March 26, and Mr. Plumb offered an amendment in the form of a new section requiring the Secretary of the Treasury, whenever the circulation of a national bunk is surrendered, to issue treasury notes to an equal amount. The amendment was laid on the table—yeas. 23 ; nays, 22. Mr. Plumb then renewed the amendment, modified in regard to the legal-tender quality of the proposed Treasury notes.aud it was adopted-j-eas, 28; nays, 21. Mr. Cullom, from the Committee on Territories, reported lesolutions declaring it to be the sense of the Senate that new States should be admitted only on the basis of equality and that Congress ought not to exercise any supervision over the construction of any such new State further then is necessary to guarantee to each State a republican form of government; that tho proposed constitution for Utah contains provisions which would deprive such proposed State of equality, and that it is the sense of the Senate that the Territory of Utah ought not to be admitted until it is certain beyond doubt that the practice of polygam?- has been entirely abandoned bv the inhabitants ami until it is likewise certain that the civil affairs of the Territory are uot controlled b?- the priesthood of the Mormon church. A bill was reported to the Senate providing for additional quarantine stations and making appropriations therefor, as follows: At San Diego, Cal., $>5,500; Sim Francisco, $103,000; Port fownsend, W. T. . 'J'i.OOi. The bill for the organization of the | territory o! Nebraska was reported to the i House by Mr. Springer. Tho Montana admisI sioii bill was also reported to tiie House mid ! plac’d on the calendar. Mr Kerr, of I lowa presented a bill in the House to j amend the interstate commerce law so as to i violent a railroad from bringing into a state ! articles which the roads within the State are i not permitted to transport. Mr. Laird intro- | duced a r, solutieti t ndermg the th inks of I Congress to Lieut. A W. Greely and ethers for their courage, energy, and fidelity in the conduct of the late scientific expedition to the ' \rctic sens. A bill was introduced by Mr. i Kerr, of lowa, fortlie establishment of a per- i manent Board of Arbitration between the United States and Great Britain and France. । .Mr. Stew art introduced a bill to amend the imt- I । uralization law so ns to require would-be citizens to make oath that thev are not pol? gamists, i anarchists or communists. The President transmitted to the two houses l of Congress, on March 27, a report from Mmi inter Pendleton at Berlin showing that trichina- । I sis prevails in certain parts of Germany. He ! I also transmits a report from the Consul at I Marseilles, representing that 30,000 swine have , died in that department during the last j four mouths from a highly contagious ' and fatal disease, which is thought l>\ the I Commissioner of Agriculture to be ver?' similar > | to hog cholera. The President recommends ; the passage of a law prohibiting the iinporta- , : tion ot swine or hog products from either of the I [ countries named. Senator Blairs bill giving the preference to disabled Confederate soldiers ; as against other ex-rebels iu Federal appointments was opposed by Senator Ed- ! inunds in a vigorous speech. Senator : Palmer has introduced a bill for the purchase of tho Portage Lake ship canal. The House adopted the resolution of the Committee ; ! on Elections in the contested election case of Worthington vs. Post, from the Tenth Illinois District. The resolution confirms the right of Post, the sitting member Tho Union Paciue funding bill was debated by the House. Mr. ; Plumb, from the Committee on Railways and ! Canals, made a favorable report on tho bill to I provide for ascertaining t‘ epiopriety and feasl ibility of constructing a gulf and lake waterway. Aii English Lady in China. You will remember that I could not ; ■ be prevailed upon to taste the three delicacies of cat, dog, and rat, provided ’ : at the Chinese dinner, aud served up in dainty bowls. Well, when Henry : i returned home that night he said to Mak: “Now understand, your missee must eat cat, dog and rat; you go catchee them, and every morning-time । you give one piecee to eat that break--1 i fast time.” ( ■ Two days passed, and Henry, thinking the servant had forgotten all about i his order, sat down to breakfast; and ■ I’m glad to say that the biter was bitten, for he, as well as our friend, partook of a dish of mince, which was ] served up with a wall of potatoes. I This was according to Henry’s wish, | as he thought the potatoes, served En- . j glish fashion, would be a good disi guise. Having tasted and not liking ' ! the flavor, Henry said, sotto voce, to : the waiting-boy: “What fashion chowI chow this thing?” The answer wa's: “Belongs one : piecee dog. ” I ate my portion without comment, । thinking it calf’s head minced, though i the idea did occur to me that it was I rather “high.” The following morning another i mince was served up, of which Henry j did not partake, though I did not ■ notice this. He declares that 1 helped i 1 myself twice. This mince, also, was i disguised by a wall of potatoes. On the third morning another of , these choice dishes, ornamented again with potatoes, was handed around, and our friend, who had been let into the secret, helped himself liberally, and declared the dish good. I remained in ignorance of what I had eaten until the middle of the third ' day, when the gentlemen burst into a I fit of laughter, and told me of the hoax that had been practiced upon me. I had eaten dog the first morning, cat the second, and rat the third. — Youth’s Companion. Only the J rices Dropping. The report circulated in the East that Duluth real estate had all flatten- • ' ed out is a base fabrication with a ' superstructure of error. Our hills are still here and our hollows have not de- | parted from us.— Duluth Para- : g rap h er. ______________ An ancient remedy for the headache was to kiss the first girl you met. It might be remedied, now-a-days, in the same way. The girl would, probably, j “take your head off.”— Yonhers StatesI man.

NUMBER Hl.

INDIANA STATE NEWS. —Patents have been granted Indiana inventors as follows: Milton Delane and O. L. ( umniins, near Columbia City, clod crusher and ground leveler; Isaac N. Elliott and P. A. Reid, Richmond, mechanical movement; Thomas E. Hall, assignor of one-half to D. R. Ennis, Indianapolis, car coupling; Daniel IL Kime, Kendallville, and 11. Williams, Toledo, hasp lock; John P. Obenchain, Logansport, turbine; Britton Poulson, assignor to W. D. Schiefer, lort Wayne, and J. C. Hunt, Concord. Mass., device for detaching buttons; Amos Sanders, North Vernou, receptacle for containing classified bills, letters, or samples; William D. Schiefer, Fort Wayne, assignor cf one-half to J. C. Hunt, Concord, Mass., device for detaching buttons; John L. Ush, South Wabash, potato drill; Joseph M. \an Mover, assignor of one-half to A. I. Abbott, Terre Haute, sliding or rolling gate: John C. .Voss, Bedford, cutting apparatus, —The 100 acres of ground recently purchased at Rensselaer by the Catholic Church, will be used for the location of a Catholic school for the education of Indians. Buildings will be erected at once, and it is expecled to have them ready for occupation by this fall. Young men will be selected from the several Indian schools, who have already received several years schooling, and these will be trained in the higher branches of education and fitted to take the place of teachers in their various tribes of nations. Some will be educated as artisans, farmers, carpenters, blacksmiths, etc. —Funeral services were recently held at the Methodist Church, during which time a large number of persons were present and the seats full. Soon after the funeral party left the house one of the stove flues and about one-fifth of the joists and plastering overhead fell and crushed the stove and benches, and made a general wreck of the room. The weight was great, aud had it fallen a little sooner the loss of life would have been large. At least fort?' persons were occupying the space crushed by the fall, and certainly none of them could have escaped death or very serious injury. —The young men of Columbus have formed a malitia company which was mustered into the State service recently by Major J. F. Gent, of the Governor’s staff. The officers are IVilliam J. Beck, Captain; William L. McCampbeil, First Lieutenant, and Hasford Valentine, Second Lieutenant. The company starts with fortytwo members, though the number is to ba increased. The members are among the best x'oung men of the city, and when fully equipped and drilled, will be an orgaui ization of which the community will be f proud. —Governor Gray has paroled Thomas ' Boyer, a convict in the Jeffersonville penitentiary, who was sentenced in IbS t to fifteen years for manslaughter. At the time of his conviction Eoyer was only 15 years old. His crime was the shooting of an unknown man who happened to pass a crowd of boys with whom Boyer was playing. It was believed at the time that the shooting was done deliberately, but it is claimed that there have been developments lately that justify the opinion that it may have been accidental. ---The heaviest verdict thai has ever been given in the Jennings County Circuit Court was rendered recently by the jury m the case of Mrs. Florence O’Conner vs. the0. A M. Railway Company, for the killing of Mrs. O’Conner s husband, who was employed as a brakeman on that road- Theplaintiff sued for MO,OOO damages and. tho jury gave her a verdict in the sum of S 8,00(). —N. T. DePauw & Co., of New Albany, are leasing large tracts of land along the river border in Harrison County. There are now five natural-gas wells in the countv, and it is the expectation of the company named to obtain gas in sufficient quantity to pipe to New Albany and supply | light and fuel for the glass works. —The County Commissioners of Clark County have ordered an election on the first Tuesday in May in Jeffersonville Township, to decide whether the township will subscribe $75,000 to the capital stock of the proposed bridge over the Ohio River between Jeffersonville and Louisville. —Stephen Brown, a farmer residing near Eugene, shot and instantly killed a tramp whose name could not be learned. The tramp was trying to get lodging for Mie night, and when refused became angry and struck Mr. Brown, who then sho| him. Mr. Brown was not arrested. —Mrs. Louisa Morehead has instituted suit in the Vanderburg Superior Court against the Diamond Coal Company for ^s,t’()o damages. The complaint alleges I that the defendant has been illegally m ning coal in subterranean limits under her 1 land in Center Township. —At Terre Hautd, Dr. and Mrs. Jnliua Gerstemeyer, of Brazil, kidnaped the Doci tor’s children by his first wi e, xvho bad | been put in the custody of their uncle. ' The children xvere taken from school, and tfic kidnaping party took a train for Col- ' orado. i -The Board of Trustees of the Northi west Methodist Conference at their recent: : meeting at Lafayette decided that at thenext camp-meeting at Battle Ground the- ’ gates to the grounds wouid be locked on i Sunday and no Sunday fees be taken. I .An impression xvas taken of the lock ■ to the county jail at Huntington with ihe supposed purpose of liberating two piison- ' era chai ed with murder. The doors of i the jail have been barred with extra bolts,. I so the cast taken will be useless. —Adam Errick, a wealthy farmer, was । run over and killed by a passenger train on i the Fort Wayne road at M arsaxv. Ligonier, Albion, and Auburn are all ! astir over the prospects of a ne w railroad, i The projected line is to be constructed by ! the Wabash <ompany from Auburn to j Stillwater. Laporte County, to give that j company an air line to Chicago. —William Costello, a New Alban?' um-brella-mender, was run over and killed by the Air-line train on East Silver street. Costello was walking on the track and paid: no attentio ito the whistle. His partner,. William Powers, escaped. —Patrick Quinn, a brakeman, fell from a train at Fort Wayne and was killed.