St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 15, Number 9, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 24 August 1889 — Page 1

VOLUME W.

WM SMEDLEY. 4 Ro^&nce of the Ci vil War. Tr***"~"*" r «T MA& i'AMSa F. BUTTS. CHAPTER K> UNDER SUSPIOICCk

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had from nearly opposite ■points been approaching each other without mutual discov- ■ ery, until only lour or five ■ yards of spa^e separated them, j They had crou bed low to the ground, moving stealthily and I

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■ slowly along, Indian fashion, as if fearful [ of detection. The place of their meeting ' was a glade or hollow on the mountain side, where scattered trees, thick bushes, and long grass gave them good opportu- > nities of concealment as they moved ! along. The first hail with which the.r colloquy opened, as they abruptly paused ; on discovery, was sent foith in a hoarse ! whisper, as were the subsequent questions I and replies. Becoming satisfied on their i mutual recognition, they crept close toi gether for a longer conference. Even I then, so great was their caution, they I would not stand upright, but kept close to the dark background of a thick patch of bushes as they sat on the ground, that ■■ the bright moon might not betray them to any scout or spy. The place of their meeting, to be more ; definite, was in a lonely defile of the I Clinch Mountains, at least two days’ journey from Knoxville. Tenn. It was a ' scene of wild and savage grandeur, in which the dwarfed figures of human beings seemed out of place. The great I range rose like a wall toward the clouds, steep and difficult of access, its lower ( parts clothed with stiaggling timber; its s upper heights, as seen from below, bare and rocky. Spurs and offshoots of lesser height made along its whole course those I hidden glades and glens, in one of which I our narrative opens. It was the night of i August 15th, 1861. The moon, in her ! second quarter, brightly illumined the ' grand prospect, upon which a stranger might well have gazed with awe—so still, so savage, so vast it seemed. And yet, as we are soon to learn, in the hidden re- . cesses of those remote heights dwelt 1 thousands of human beings, men, women i and little children, enduring the woes of t that ominous time, and sharing its few’ ; comforts and joys. The two men who had thus come to- ; gether would have appeared, upon close inspection, to be fair types of the ini habitants of this region, with nothing to ' . particularly distinguish them, one from [ another. Each carried a long hunting ! rifle, and was clad in coarse home’spun. Their bearded faces were stern and forbidding; their hands were roughened with ' | toil. Coming close together, they exi changed a nod and a glance, w’hich ' answered for the hand-shake of more re--1 fined localities, and immediately con- ■ | tinned their conversation in whisper. “Good enough, Wally; 1 knowed you'd be here. Whar’s your men?” “Just over the rise of the hill. Yourn?” “Back yonder in the bushes. Whar is ' that chap's den? I never v. is in this I gully before. ” Wallace Baird simply pointed up the ' I glen. Through a curtain of straggling I trees the roof of a small frame building j was visible. His companion gazed at it I and his f ice darkened in the moonlight, 1 Something Ike an oath came from be- 1 I tween his shut teeth. “That ar' the serpent’s den—ar’ it?” “Yes.”

“Do you be sure he’s thar?” “Most likely; the boys say he’s always in nights. You’d heard of him. hadn’t you, 'fore I sent word to you to bring over your men and meet us here this night?” "Just a little: you know we live furder off ’n you, and the talk wouldn’t get to us so soon. But we’d heard bow you folks suspicioned him and we was quite ready to come at the word. Does he stay thar alone?” “Yes.” “What doin’?” “Walkin’ round, sometimes all day. up the mountains and thiouyh the gullies, with a small dog at his heels. Has been seen sittin’ on a rock with big whit paper on his knees, working with pencil of something.” “Ho!—making pictures of the country?” “Seems like it.” “Curse him!” growled Burt Hankins. “ ’Sh!” the other warned. “You mustn’t speak a loud work.” “I won t; but ;t's hard work to hold in. How long's he been ’round here?” ’Bout a month, right heie. He don't make any friends; he don't ’pear to want to ki ow any of us. Es he meets anyone in his wanderin’ ’round be will say ‘Good- ' mornin’,’ or such: but he don’t talk, an’ don t stop to give any one a chance to ask questions.” ^Know whar he come from? “I don’t know, but I suspect.” 1 “Whar would it be?” * ' Wallace Baird took from his pocket a ■ white envelope, considerably soiled fiom i being carried in that not over-clean recep- 1 taele, and held it triumphantly up to the e yes ofh s companion. You know whar I live,” he said, “down there below. Yesterday mornin’ that chap come walkin’ back this way past my place, With a stick and a big bundle on his i ack; । Ive heard’em called knapsacks. I don’t know where he'd been; I never seen him 1 go, and likely be went nt night, a week or so before; but I believe he’d been to Knox- 1 ville.” Burt Hankins uttered a growl under 1 bis breath, that might in the dark have heen mistaken for that of a wild beast. “Yes, by !” he mutterred. “Yon rhhtly suspicion him. I couldn't go to Knoxville, an’ be let to come home again, nor you couldn't; we’d have some of Isham Harris’ people after us, and be lucky i H we didn’t have no choice but to go to ; jail or join the secesh aimy. But this chap can go and come in peace, it seems.” “I con t say it fcr sure,” continued the other, “but I'll lose my guess if we don’t I find the proof of what I suspicion, when we once get into that den upthere. Howi ever that may be, as the man passed my > pl- ce. I says to my lad, Ba n ‘Do you fol- [ ler him along a wavs, not being seenyo irt self, and watch if he does anything curious.’ In an hour Dan was ba k; said he’d dogged him till he sot down under a tree, ■ took this lefter out of his pocket, read the inside of it four or five times, and then sot for a while kind of thoughtful, looking at

COUNTy M Sosrplj Independent

tne ground. Then he put the letter back, as he supposed; but it didn’t reach the place, and fell to the ground without his knowing it. After he’d gone on, the lad went an. got it, and brought it to me. Here it is; read it for yourself, and see if I am t right.” You ought to know I can't read, Wallace. What does it say?” Maybe I hadu t best stop now’ to read it to you, for time’s go ng on, and I judge from the moon that it s past midnight. 1 ut the letter makes it clear enough to me that the fellow s secesh. There's big words in it I don’t make out; ’pears to be written by a girl in Vicksburg ” “Vicksburg!” interrupted Hankins, Am t that somewhere down near Orleans?” "To be sure it is —in Mississippi.” Well, then, what’s the use of talkin’ ! any more about it? Ihe fellow’s a secesh spy - most likely has old Harris’ money in ; his pocket this minute. Let's go and ' make short work of him.” He started to his feet. The strong hand of his companion pulled him down again. Os course, he’s a spy, fast enough; but you and I would be tools to go ahead blindly in this bus ness, considerin’ the scoutin, and burnin', and conscriptin’ that s being done every day not many miles from here by Governor Harris’ imps afoot and a hossbaek; and may he and them burn themselves, some day, together!” “Amen, Wally.” But we never can tell what this chap has got up there in his c bin. Maybe i he ha n t come up here all alone on such | an errand, as he orter know we would bieak his neck if he was found out. May- • be there’s more of 'em in there—and! guns, too.” “Maybe there’s an elephant and two or ' three lions in there,” said Hankins, with I a sneer. “Look here, Burt—you take care. I ain’t no coward; if it was any other time than this, you’ve said enough to tight over. ” “O, I didn’t mean it that way, Wally; nobody says you're a coward. All I meant was that there's nothing in the way of our going up there along with the boys, pulliu the secesh chap out, and—you know.” The speaker made a rapid motion with his hand around his neck. “D d you bring one?” he asked, significantly. “Yes; Pete Willman's got it.” “So, then, let’s go back, bring up the boys, make a rush on him, and the thing's done. ” “You go back to your party, quiet as you came; then bring ’em over here just as still. I m going up to scout round the house; then I II go after my party, and we ll meet right here. If you get here first, do you wait for us.” “I ll go 'long with you and peek into his den. ” “No, you won’t. I can’t trust you. You'd be sure to move too fast. Get back with you, and do as I say.” Wallace Baird was evidently a man of some au hority among the rude people of those mountains. His tone and manner showed the leader, as well as much of what he had said to bis companion. The latter made no further demur, but returned cautiously over the ridge of the adjacent hiil, while Baird ciept up through the trees toward Ihe cabin. A closer view of the place showed it to be merely a roughly constructed shanty of pine boards, fifteen feet square. It had a shingled roof in bad repair and two small-glazed windows; there was no chimney, and it was manifest that whoever at any time occupied it must cook out of doors, if he would cook at all, and that during the cold months of the year it could not be a refuge for anybody. The fact was, that the place had been built in years past for tempo,ary occupation by some sportsmen of Knoxville, to be used in the hunting season for a few weeks of each year. Its present occummt had found it vacant and taken possession. Wallace Baird saw nothing stirring about the place as he looked from the curtain of trees, and cautiously approached till he was under one of the windows. The furious balking of a dog inside caused him to drop prone to the ground, where he lay perfectly still for some minute's. Nobody came out, and he heard the voice of a man reproving and quieting the animal. Rays ci light shot out through the p mes, and the scout resolved to have a look at the interior of the cabin. The window

ISTF ) “ theie! ” ) "WSisit?” “ Wally. And you ’’ ( “Burt.” “All right; let’s talk. But whis- i per; no telling l who’s around hiding in the grass or j bushes. ” The two men

was not more than six feet from the ground; by-standing on tip-toe he could look in. He did so with the utmost care, knowing that he took the chance of immediate discovery. But it happened that tho occupant tat with his back to this window, so that Baird was able to look at hi - leisure. The interior of the cabin was hardly more inviting than the outside. It had a rough board floor; there we eno signs of a bed save some blankets in a corner; there was no furniture except two pine boxes of unequal size, upon one of which the inmate sat, using the other for a table. A lame portfolio stood against the eid ■ of the apartment, and two or three articles of dress weie hung from nails. His knapsack was at the man’s feet, where his lift e dog crouched, continuing an uneasy growl. A lighted candle on the large box was stuck in a knot-hole; there was a pocketinkstand near it, and some paper, traced with a few lines of writing. The man’s right hand, fallen to his side, held a pen; bis left supported his head. B drd quietly surveyed the scene, and swiftly reached a conclusion. “Writin’ letters to the d d rebels!” he thought. And he wisely withdrew. CHAPTER 11. FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH. The man in the cabin dozed and nodded as he sat, lapsing from troubled thoughts into cqi ally troubled dreams, out of which he would start, look about him, and utter an impat'ent exclamation. Once, as he saw the writing before him, he Inoke forth into a soliloquy that showed his uncomfortable frame of mind. “Why, what folly! I write letters to her, just as tl ough there was any mail for them to go in; just'as though theie wa< any United States to send a mail. I write to her, telling her all about my feelings, and the hopeless situation I am in; all of which she knows already just as well as a thousand more tellings could make it known to her; and then I burn up the letters, as I-sball burn this one when I have finished it, and try to sleep, when there is hardlv such a thing as sleep or rest for me. How much longer shall I remain in these savage wilds, roaming about among these boors? What is to be the end of it all? O, the torment of this suspense will kill me.” He wse and paced the room, but'could not quiet his throbbing brain. A newspaper lying on the blankets caught his eye, he picked it up. and for perhaps the twentieth time in less than forty-eight hours he read over a column of doublele.ided news, prefaced by displayed headlines. He threw’down Ilie paper. “It may end that way; it may end that way soon. And if I raise no hand for it I can never see her again—never see her again!” He was sitting now, his head propped upon his hand; and almost unconsciously he repeated again and again those dreary words:

WALKERTON. ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 24,1889.

“Never see her again!” It was while he dozed that the sudden and furious barking of the dog moused him. Wi bout parley or preliminary the door was burst open and a dozen men armed with guns rushed in. He was o taken too much by surprise for any resistance, even had he been disposed to make any. He had jumped to his feet at this st titling irruption; but before lie could utter a word his arms were seized from behind, and the muzzles of two rifles weie thrust in his face. “Surrender!” Wallace Baird commanded. “I can’t well do anything else,” was the reply. “You overpower an unarmed man at the start, cover him with guns, and j then iell him to surrender. Certainly I I will. Now, perhaps you’ll bo so kind as to inform me what you mean by this out- ' rage.” ‘All in good time, Mister,’ returned Baird. “Hankins, you just keep your eye on him; I reckon he’s safe enough, but his kind ure sometimes sly. I’d take a look ’round his shanty and see if he’s got any arms or anything el. e that we want. Fall back to that side, boys, and give me room. ” The rude mountaineers obeyed him, all casting looks of hatred upon the object of —is raid. The man s character came out strongly in his face at that moment. He was tall and well knit, and as he stood among his captors he was a bead tailer than any of them. He was dressed in a suit which showed by its cut and material th it it bad been made in tome other region than this. His smooth face vas a striking one; it had large, regular features, dark, expressive eyes, and was crowned with black hair that had a natural curl. The face was rather thin now, and bore marks of keen mental suffering. The man must have been over thirty years old. But it was his conduct under the trying and ominous circumstances described that chiefly showed him to be one who had seen and known something of life’s dangers and trials, and who was not easily to be thrown off the balance of his composure. Recovering from the first shock of surprise he now looked at bis scowling captors with an expression of unconcern which might have been assumed, but which was most admirably put on. “I demand to know the meaning of all this,” he said. By common consent. Baird was the spokesman of the mountaineers, and he was at present too busy searching the effects of the caj five to heed his remonstrance". He searched through the blankets and found nothing; in the knapsack, and took out a book, then two more, evidently a set, some tea done up in a parcel and a lot of writing paper. A basket was hung on a nail; it contained bread and dried meat. A change of clothing hangin.' up was rummaged over, and a wallet well filled with greenbacks appeared. Wallace Baird discovered another candle, stuck it in another knot- hole, and having lighted it, looked over the contents of the portfolio, which ke held up for his companions to see. It contained a number of crayon sketches of scenes in these mountains, so coirect in the drawing that the places were recognized at once. Baird sat down on the small box and looked nt the writing on the open sheet. He held the newspaper in his hand, but baa not yet examined it. A transient flush passed over the prisoner's pale face as ho saw his unfinished letter being read; but lie said nothing. Having completed the reading, Baird looked nt the name and date of the paper, but at the first sight of its columns he uttered a loud exclamation, “What’s the matter Wally?” several of the men exclaimed. "Bad news for us, I can tell you! Here’s u copy of the Knoxville for last month. Hebei paper, but I hardly think they’d lie as bad as this. Listen: from Wushin(/ton.' Federal Armti Badly Beaten at Bull Hun! Beauregard About to Occupy Washington!" ” These announcements were received with cries of rage and grief. “That’s the news that suits this fellow,” one of the men cried. The prisoner looked from one to another of the rude f ces around him, now distorted with anger, and bent menacingly upon him. Au intimation of the truth, a suspicion of his own danger, was borne in upon bis mind. “I read that account, ” he said, “and I was just ns sorry to read it as any of you couid I e. ” Wallace Baird looked up from the paper. “What's your name?" he asked. "I don’t object to telling you that, if you will inform me why I am treated in this manner, and what authority you have for using me so ” Bair 1 took the envelope from his pocket which he bad showed to Burt Hankins. The piison r colored again upon seeing it but controlled himself with an effort. “ ‘C:q tarn Charles Smedley, Vicksbu’g, Misso sippi,' ” be heard read. “Is that your name? Is that where you used to live?” The other hesitated. “I will answer those questions,” he said, “when you answer mine. ” [to he continued,] Superstitions About Babies. A daughter born during the waxen moon is always precocious. Garlic, salt, bread and steak are first ]>ut in the cradle of a new-born child in Holland. A pair of tongs or knife put in the cradle will satisfy the Welsh mother as to her child's safetv. The knife is also used in parts of England. In lower Brittany, on the birth of a child, neighboring women at once take it in charge, wash it, crack its joints and rub its head with oil to “solder its cranium Itones.” In modern Greece the mother, before putting the child in its cradle, turns three times around before the fire while singing her favorite song io ward away evil spiiits. A small bit of red ribbon is all the Honmanian infant requires to secure it from harm, while the EsHioaian mo'lmr attaches a bit of asafetida to the child’s neck. Among Vosges peasants, children born at new moon have their tongues better hung than others, while those liorn at the last quarter have loss tongue, but reason better. The Turks load the child with amulets as soon as it is born, and a small bit of mud, well steejied in a jar cf hot water, prepared by previous charms, is stuck on its forehead. The Swedish mother quits a book under the head of the new-born infant chat it may be quick at reading, and quits money info the first Lath to giiiarantee its possession m the future. At the museum: “ W hy do you stare at the ossified man so. Bobby?” “I ■was thinking how many buttons ha would make when ho dies.” The human mind is a gem, but it is sometimes much impaired by a bad setting.

i INDIANA HAPPENINGS, i I > ( EVENTS AND INCIDENTS THAT HAVE LATELY OCCURRED. An Interesting Summary of the More Important Doings of Our Neighbors—WedI dings ami Deaths -Crime, Casualties and General News Notoa. Terrific Fight with an Indian. t Stowe’s Indian show and circus arrived ( at A’incennes, stopping at the Grand I Hotel. The Indians and cowboys proceeded to get drunk at the bar. Soon ' they became boisterous, and created such a din around that corner that Mayor Murphy, who was on the third floor, was , awakened by the noise. Mayor Murphy ; went below, thinking there was a row. i On inquiring what it meant, policeman Gus Robertson, who was already upon the scene, replied that the Indians would uot be quiet. Murphy ordered Robertson to arrest them. He proceeded to do so when a young Conaanche Indian, named “Split Bark,” resisted. The i Comanche is a powerful man, tall and . muscular, as lithe as a panther, and as savage as a grizzly bear. When “Split Bark” resisted, Robertson struck at him ■ with his mace. The Indian suddenly squatted down, and the terrific blow of the officer's mace swung harmlessly ! above his head. Quick as a flash the ■ Indian seized officer Robertson around the knees and then straightening to his feet with him, threw him into tlie air as if handling a child. As the officer descended Split Bark grabbed his mace, tore off hisstar. and pouncing upon the I prostrate form of the officer, began to ! batter him in a most savage manner,with i his own mace. The Mayor seized a ' heavy chair, dashed into the affray, and after battering the Comanche over the j head several times with the chair, finally : knocked him off of Robertson. Another ; Indian, a cousin of "Split Bark," rushed j to the rescue of his companion, but was ; seized and held by a bystander. "Split ; Bark” started to run out. As soon as ■ Robertson regained his footing, he rushed out after the Indian, and began firing at him. bnugin < him down with a bullet in his back, fatally injured. The ; fight was a hard one. The officer is ; j badly used up and but for the Mayor would have been killed. Minor Sint.- Item*. —Anderson has as small typhoid fever ; epidemic. —An unusually large peach crop is predicted for Southern Indiana this year. -The Diamond ITntc-ulass Company, of Kokomo, has struck another Lq; gus well. -Joseph Fastlaben was kicked in the head by n hors- at Shelbyville, and is thought to be fatally injured. At Shelbyville, Jacob G. DepreZ, a well-known merchant, was injured by falling down ar. elevator shaft. —The annual reunion of the Sixtythird Indiana Regiment will be held at Waynetown on September 25 and 26. -—At Spencer. S. H. IL Matins and daughtei were thrown from a buggy by a nimniay horse and seriously hurt. —Newton Weston, of Lafayette, was I shot from ambush, while passing a eornfield, and received a painful wound in the 1 eg. --Hog cholera has broken out in Jackson County and Fred White, one of the ■ best farmers in that section, has lost ; ever fifty head recently. ’ —Southern Indiana has produced this ' season one of the largest peach crops ever known in that section. Brown - County seems to be '‘humping” herself ! especially. —ln the Stanford spoke factory the boiler exploded, blowing Henry Fowler fifty feet, lie fell in a pond, from which I he was fished out almost drowned and fatally injured. — Charles B. Dougherty, of Bluffton, becomes heir to sin,ooo by the will of his aunt, Mrs. B. G. Stults, whose death at the sanitarium. Battle Creek, Mich., occurred recently. —James Spencer, living six miles ' north of Brazil, died from blood poi- ; soning. It was caused by a wound on his face coming in contact with a horse having the distemper. —A 4-year-old child, belonging to ' Isaac Md Taino, of Lebanon, was badly burned while playing fire in the absence , of her mother. It is thought the little j one can hardly recover. —George Snyder, a prominent farmer living near Etna Green, was instantly : killed by being kicked in the head by a ! young pony which he was breaking in. i He was single and aged 29. — Sherman Swartz, a conductor on the ' coal road, was killed at Percy, a little station just north of Goodland, while [ making a coupling. Projecting lumber ; on a it-car crushed his head. —T lie Commissioners of White and j ! Carroll counties have let the contract : | for the construction of a 525,000 iron bridge across the Tippecanoe River at the county line, near Monticello. —The other night a meteor crashed i through the roof of John Faschnicht’s I house, near Lafayette, and was em- ' bedded in the floor near the bed where i Mr. and Mrs. Faschnicht were sleeping, —An attempt to wreck a south-bound O. & M. train was made by piling rocks ■ on the track, at the Silver Creek bridge, ' near Jeffersonville. The engine was ■ thrown from the track, but nobody was ; i hurt. —During the past few years a number . of valuable pearls have been found at- [ inched to shells in White River, near ; Rockford. One resident of the village I has realized over ^3OO from that source, ■ and a large specimen recently picked I up by him sold readily for S3B. Cutsinger A Son, living a few miles north of Columbus, iceently shipped to Liverpool, England, twenty-four carloads of the finest beef cattle that have ' ever been shipped from the ludiauapo- । Jis stock-yards, so dealers say. The . cattle averaged 1,516 pounds each. j

—The stable of Joseph Stull, of Cleat Creek Station, was burned recently. Three valuable horses were lost; so, I also, were many farming implements. There was no insurance. It was the work of an incendiary. —George Grorn deserted hie family, at Columbus, several weeks ago. The other day three of his children were taken to the Soldiers’ Home at Knightstown, and the mother and babe were sent to the county poor asylum. John Unison was in the act of getting on the east-bound Vandalia accommodation, at Greencastle, when ne slipped and fell, crushing his left foot beneath the rail. His injury is severe, j though amputation may be avoided. —A petition has been filed with the Board of Commissioners of Crawford County asking that body to order the re- j moval of the county seat from Leavenworth to English. This is the fourth attempt of the kind that has been made. —Chris Ziedler, a butcher at South Bend, met with a terribly painful acci- : dent. He was climbing into his slaugh-ter-house through a window, when he lost his footing and fell. He was caught by a meat-hook which pierced I his leg and held him suspended, head i downward, until help arrived. —lt is stated that the Mayor of South Bend has received a letter from Bene- s diet, Field & Co., of Chicago, boot and j shoe manufacturers, asking what that place will do for them if they locate their factory there. They propose to build a factory with a capacity of 500 pairs of shoes a day, and they will employ 300 hands. —J. B. Safford, of Columbus, train- i master of the Jeffersonville, Madison , and Indianapolis Railroad, has been ap- 1 pointed by Duncan T. Bacon, Grand Commander of the Knights Templars, an aid on the staff of Chief Marshal i Myron M. Barker, for the triennial encampment which is to begin at AV ash- i ington on Oct. 8. —The liquor dealers of Columbus, all ; of whom are violating the law by selling without license, have been served with written notices from Mayor Studer that : unless they paid up their high license I fee immediately they would be prose- I cuted according to law. 'lhe saloon men regarded the Mayor as favorable toward them. Six townships in Hancock County voted < u the gravel-road question, and the m iority of the votes were for free roads. This will practically make every road in the county free. The three precincts in Greenfield gave a majority of 211 in favor of free roads. There is great rejoicing at Greenfield, as every mud now leading into that city will be free. An extensive and valuable geological collection is owned by Dr. J. E. Elrod, of Hartsville. Frank Springer, of Bullington. In., who is employed to prepare a work for the United States Geological Survey, is now at Hartsville, looking over the collection of Dr. Elrod, mid has already collected a number of fine specimens from it that are to be used in illustrating a treatise on the crinoids of North America. The Crawfordsville city school board has decided to adopt the new school books of the Indiana series, . provided the entire series can be placed I in at the same time, They propose to ■ make a clean sweep of the old books, or to retain them in case they cannot be ' furnished when wanted and in the ; quantity desired. The city schools will open on Monday, September 16, and there are about 2,000 school children in that city. —Last fall a Lafayette man called at the clothing store of Tannebaum Bros., at Crawfordsville, and had a twentydollar bill changed. When he got on the train he discovered that he had been given $25. He did not know the name ! of the firm where the money was changed, so he concluded to see about ; it the next time he came to Crawfords- ' ville. The other day he called at the store and gave back the extra $5 which ■ he had received six months before. —There are 9,723 children in Mont- ' gomery County, of which number 7,039 , are of school age, but the daily average attendance was only 4,914. This shows that 2,684 children did not attend school last year. There are twenty-three children over ten years old who can neither read nor write. There are 153 schoolhouses in said county, 138 of them being frame and fifteen brick. Last year there were 191 teachers employed, at a cost of $52,309.07. The estimated value of the school property is placed at $220,587.50. —A stranger came to this city a few days ago, says a Columbus special, and hiring a conveyance, was driven through the hilly region of Brown County, remaining some time in that section and carefully examining the neighborhood where gold has been found. It developes that the man was a gold expert, who went there for the purpose of investigating the extent and wealth of the alleged gold fields. On his return to this city he reported himself as well pleased with his prospecting tour. He found a large amount of rich gold-bear-ing sand along Bean Blossom Creek, and took back with him to Cincinnati a number of fine specimens of the precious metal in its original state. He announced before his departure that he would return immediately with a num'ber of other experts, and that a thorough examination of the gold field will be made by them. —While S. H. IL Mathes, formerly editor of tli*e Journal at Spencer, was out riding with his daughter the liorso became frightened and runaway, throwing both violently to the ground and seriously injuring the daughter. The fa- i ther sustained only slight bruises. —AYhile driving near Falmouth, Rev. ; Taylor, of Milroy, was seriously, though not fatally, injured. The axle broke, causing the horse to run away, throwing Mr. Taylor out, and breaking his collar- j bone and forcing it down upon the lungs. His head was also badly bruised.

J AMERICAN RAILROADS., — —_ STATISTICS OF RAILWAYS IN THE ■ UNITED STATES. The Most of the Lines Said to he Paying Very Poorly—lllinois Still Leads Ail the States in Railway Mileage -Eight Billions of Property. [Washington special to Chicago Herald.] A wonderful story is that told in the small blue volume just given to the public by the Interstate Commerce Commission. It is entitled “Statistics of Railways in the United States,” and it is the first annual volume of the sort issued by the new commission, and the first thorough showing of the details of railway con- I : struction, ownership and operation over i made by the Federal Government. The book is thus interesting in that it marks the first serious effort by the Government to follow the example long since set it in j England, where Government insists upon the right to possess information concern, ing all details of the railway industry. The man who prepared this book, Henry C. Adams, is a statistician of some renown and no little acumen. One of his most important tables presents a summary ol the railway capital of the United States, representing 136,883 miles of road, as follows: Per cent of Per Out- total mile oi Railway capital, standing, capital. road., I Stocks... ^3,80-1,1118,055 47.53 $28,23'. Funded debt 3,809,216,365 47.00 28,26( Current liabilities 390,103,311 4.87 2,8^1 Total $8,129,787,731 100.00 $59,39? Mr. Adams points out that ownership of $2,000,000,009 of the stock capita) gives absolute control of more than eight billions of property. In precise figures, ownership of 23.77 per cent, gives control of 100 per cent. Mr. Adams adds: i Os the total capital 47.53 per cent, is assignaI ble to stocks and 47.60 per cent, to funded debt, i leaving 4.87 per cent, in the form of current lia bilities. The significance of the facts thus di* ■ closed will be readily seen if the peculiar nature of each form of property is held in mind, ly theory stocks represent the property of the responsible owners of the road, and bonds are an incumbrance on that property. According tc this theory a railway enterprise should begit ■ with an issue of stock somewhere near the value of tli<- property to be created, and no more bonds should be issued than are necessary tc i complete the enterprise. But this theory does | not conform to the general history of railway I construction in the United States. The truth ; is, railroads are built on borrowed capital, and the stock issued represents, in the majority ol I cases, the difference between the actual cost of the undertaking and the confidence of the public ; cx[ ressed by the amount of bonds it is willing to absorb in the ultimate success o, cbe vent uny The summary of the earnings and in- ! come of the 136,883 miles of road shows the following figures; Proportion to Proper-' revenue tion to from op- total in- ' eration— come— Source. Amount percent, percent. Passengers.. $277,339,150 30.46 27.73 Freight 613,290,673 67.35 61.33 Oth r e'rn gs 19,991,391 2.19 1.93 Toll er'n'gs. $910,621,220 100.00 Income from other s'rees. 89,5'33,471 8.95 I Tot a 1 income (exdud a credits sold). $1,000,214,091 100.01 The total exp-nses of operation were $59-1,991,656, and the fixed charges $285,492.433, making a total expenditure of $>80,487,089. From these figures the statistician deduces the following facts: The revenue per passenger per mile was ' 2.349 cents; cost of carrying one passenger one mile, 2.012; revenue ]or ton ol ■ freight per mile, 1.001; cost of carrying one ton of freight one mile, 0.630; revenue per tra u mile, passenger trains $1.139; cost of running a passenger train ■ one mile, 84.691; revenue per train mile, ‘ freight trains, $1,657; cost of running a freight train one mile, $1 038; cost pet i train mile of all trains earning revenue, ■ 96,050; percentage of operating expen? es j to operating income, 65.34. Another interesting ta»de is a classificaj tioi? of stocks and bonds according to ■ rate of dividend or interest, as follows: i Bein'per cent. Stock. Bonds. Nothing paid $2,371,200,906 $ 827,554,31!) I Under! 4 818,620 25.722,501 l 1 to 2 90,805,1X17 117,664,166 2 to 3 46,775,614 94,973,846 3 to 4 34,179,425 194,562,231 4 to 5 318,6!19,245 472,5-18,49. 5 to 6 301.1.81.511 655,537,834 6 to 7 264.402,331 990,444,375 7 to 8 295.755,706 367,290,631 8 to 9 76,473,65'1 41,887,865 9 to 10 4,203,510 1,702,006 10 to 11 48,459,100 25,490,785 । 11 and above 4,006,800 Total $3,864,468,055 $3,816,379,046 The percentage of the above-named dividend-paying stocks and bonds to the 1 entire amount of such securities is as ; follows: Stocks. Bonds. I Nothing 61.44 21.1!' I Under 1 13 .67 I 1 to 2 2.35 3.0? 2 to 3 1.21 2.4'. ' 3 to 4 88 5.08 ! 4 to 5 8.25 12.38 i sto 6 7.81 17.1 f 1 6 to 7 6.84 25.96 ■ 7 to 8 7.65 9.68 8 to 9 1.98 1.12 ' 9 to 10 11 .04 l 10 to 11 1.25 .67 ' 11 and above 10 i Total 100.00 100.06 According to this official report Illinois ! still retains the lead in railway mileage, I that State having, June 30, ISBB, 9,707 miles, or GA per cent, of the 149,901 miles I in the whole country. Next to Illinois comes Kansas, with 8,437 miles. lowa follows with 8,230, Pennsylvania with 7,991, Texas with 7,301, Ohio with 7,523, । New York with 7,488, Michigan with 6,345, Indiana with 5,723, Missouri with 5,710, Wisconsin with 5,057, Minnesota ■ with 5,031, Nebraska with 4,900, and ' Dakota, the fledgling State, with 4,292. Os 150,000 miles of rail but 38,u00 in ■ round numbers, lie east of the Alleghanies, counting Georgia with the Atlantic States. An effort has been made to reach the legal status and an account of the property of all the railways in the United States, j It appears that the astonishing number of 1,488 railway companies are in legal existence, though the effects of the consolidation are marked by the fact that these 1,48 S railways are operated by i about five hundred companies. Thus, I the Atchison, 'Topeka, and Santa Fe has I swallowed up uo fewer than 33 minor roads, the Baltimore and Ohio 25, the | Boston and Maine an equal number, the ! Illinois Centr.il 12, the Louisville and Nashville 19, the Missouri Pacific 38, the i New York, Lake Erie, and AVestern 44, while the Pennsylvania Company and Pennsylvania Railroad Company have taken in no fewer than 109 other companies. Bombs. “What’s that building yonder?” “That’s a tcn-cent lodging-house.” “I thought so. It’s a mere shell, ain’t it?” • “Ought to bo—it's held many a bum !” ' Water is not apt to be noticed ex- -' cept when too scarce or too plenty. A 1 flood will be noticed as quick as a dry E well. / The tree that dies is always the one that would have borne the best IrFia, t

NUMBER 9.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL —— ' SERIOUS SUBJECTS CAREFULLY AND ABLY CONSIDERED. A Scholarly Exposition of the Lesson —Thoughts Worthy of Calm Keflec tion—Half an Hour's Study of the Scriptures—Time Well Spent, The lesson for Sunday, August 25, may be found in 1 Sam. 16; 1-is, INTRODUCTORY, We come with David Io one of the accepted typos of Christ. Hence we shall study of the establishment of his kingdom with increased regard)ulness. Over in Luke we read, in the angel's deliverance, "He shall be great and shall be called the Son of the ' Highest, and the Lord God shall give unto him tne throne of his father David." True it is. then, that reading of the thione of David we arc learning oi the throne of our Lord Jesus Christ. Compare David’sPsalms with the book of Hebrews. Is the former speaking primarily of an earthly monarch and that monarch David? Then the New Testament tells us the full prophetic significance of tnat reign. “Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill ot Zion." says the second Psalm. Heb.ews echoes in the meaningful words that follow: "Thou art my son.” Was it with the eye bent upon David's kingly estate tnat the Psalmist (45; 6) cried. “Thy Throne. O God, is lor ever and ever.” Hebrews significantly prefixes the words: “Unto the Son he saith.” Prophets of old looked back to David to get a glowing glimpse of the coming Messiah. “I, the Lord, will be their God," said far-sighted Ezekiel, "and iny servant David a prince among them.” WHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. Fill thine horn ivith oil. O, for morti kingly men for the pulpits of the land! they cry. liut let us pray first. O, for more alert and godly Samuels going forth to seek the called of the Lord' Do we in any adequate degree realize the importance of that ivord of our Lord when, “moved with compassion” for the multitude, he said. “The hari vest truly is plenteous but the laborers are few. Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest that he will send forth laborers into his harvest." He is saving to us in the interests of his everlasting kingdom, “Fill thine horn with oil.” When the horn of prayer was full at Pentecost, the church was also full. But to tell the truth, now, brethren, how much such zeal for recruiting the ministry have we shown of late? Out of this church, this Sunday-school, how many have entered the seminary or training-school? Indeed, how many times have we gone forth with the real unction of prayer in this behalf ? It is but a symptom of our general indifference. "A hundred years he know," said the Indian girl, told of the white man’s God. "What for why he not conic tell my people sooner? Iget well 1 just run tell my people Jesus is so good.” ‘ Where is the spirit that runs to tell? lam come to sacrifice unto the Lord. True it was. What higher sacrifice than laying hands upon the Lord’s anointed? Doubtless Jesse looked on with wonder. What strange errand wa^ this? What meant the prophet by such unneard of sacrificial rites? Perhaps he did not fully know even when the horn of oil was emptied on the head of the youngest son. the fihepherdlad David. But afterward, in the providence of God he knew, when David cameto his throne. God sends strange visitations to Christian households to-day. We fail to see the meaning of it at the time. It all seems strange, sad, and lesultless. But after a while one of the family, the youngest it may be, and, in these dark days, the . least thought ot. is standing at the altar of consecration, his eyes toward God’s great mission field, and saying, “Hero ami. Lord, semi mo." Then we see it all. It was a sacrifice indeed. Comest thou peaceablyl It is the trembling inquiry of many a soul at the approach of God's messenger. 8 o enmeshed are we in the world that the faintest intimation of God's nearness makes us affrighted. We faint with fear where we ought to rejoice. "I thought it was the landlord for the rent,” said the poor tenant to the kind friend tvho would have helped her had sho admitted him when he culled. “Comeit thou peaceably?” say the men. su-pieiously, to whom we go with a glad gospel. “Comest thou peaceably?” say the heathen, doubtingly. to the love-laden missionary. “Comest thou peaceably?” say. with a frown, the unchurche 1 masses when • the pastor goes out of wonted paths to seek them out. O, well, remember there tvas Samuel going down to poor, povertystricki n Bethlehem with, so to speak, a crown in his ha>-d. And, matk you. there were Jesse and His neighbors querulously asking, “Comest thou peaceably?” But, look you. did Samuel turn back? By no means. God had sent him. And, pray, who but God sends us? The Lord hath not chosen these. Evidently they were esteemed by Jesse the choicest that he had. And for that matter, by Sam-u-1 also. He was quite surprised that Saul's counterpart, the stalwart Eliab. was not taken. No. assuredly. God’s ways are not as our ways nor his thoughts as our thoughts. Saul of Benjamin was a very tall man, but that other Saul of Tarsus, however insignifieent In bodily stature, was infinitely larger. Gotl was with him, and. as Chrysostom says, “ThD man of three cubits’ height became tall enough to touch the third heaven.” And perhaps we may see just here, in the example of Ptml- M thoopen principle of the Lord’s election. “God resisteth the p r oud but giveth grace unto the humble.” He who cried. “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” had first said in simple reliance upon God, “I have learned”—“to be content. Can we say it? “I am content to trust him In gladness or distress. My Father 's band is only laid Upon his child to bless. Through all the past bis gracious care Has kept me safely still; Shall I not trust for future days The wisdom of his will? “I am content to follow The pathway that he shows, Although it be not what I choose, But what is best he knows; And o'er the darkest, roughest road I walk with fearless feet; For a pierced hand enclasps mine own In union tried and sweet. “I am content to serve him, However he may please; Better to win his kind “Well done I. Than earthly fame or ease; And whatsoever present joy For his dear sake I miss, I know in heaven he keeps for me An endless weight of bliss. ’ Behold, he keepeth the sheep. Sundayschool superintendent, looking for a wise, safe teacher for that important class, perhaps there is an intimation here for you. Pastor, easting your eye about lor a leader for vender committee or for that exceptional piece of service, possibly there is an index linger here for you. pointing toward Obscure but, graciously developing surroundings.. I’ufiHt committee, spying the kind lor the right man,” here is a hmt for you. lake it for what you will make of it— Behold, he keepeth the sheep." There were two or three metropolitan brethren who went back into the country one day to hear a certain man preach. They were disappointed in finding the party they were seeking, bnt oft there in a half-hidden parislitAoy fount another man. engaged heart and soul in feeihng th people God had given him. And that is thewav. they tell ns. that Dr, Parkhurst happened to go to New York City. Lext Lesson—" David and Goliath. 1 Sam. 17: 32-51. Why He Smiled. Smith—Doßinks, why that satisfiedsmile'? You don’t look like a man who has just been fined $lO and costs for fast driving. T . . Deßiuks—AVhv, man alive, 1 just .sold tJiat old nag of mine for $l5O more than lie xvas worth. Did it on thestrength of the line. Who wouldn’t smile ? Good biscuits cause more happiness' than good music.