St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 15, Number 48, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 24 May 1890 — Page 3

<HOffSSALT UK MY QUEEN FOREVER." BY CHABI.KS C. HAHN. ■•I am Queen,’’ the Persian beautySaid, in accents proud and taunting, As she looked, with jealous anger, ' On the tavoiite of the harem. “Truly speaks she,” said King Sapor, •She my Queen is. Thee, 1, loving, Press the closer to my bosom. In that Paradise we long for Love shall rule, and there, mv loved one, Thou shall be my Queen forever." Tie Piccadilly Puzzle. the story of a terrible episode ill THE LIFE OF AH ENGLISH NOBLEMAN. — ♦ - ♦ ——- J By F. W. HUME CHAPTER XVI. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. Mrs. Povy was delighted to see Calliston back again, but she was not going to betray any exultation, as .she did not think him worthy of it, so received him with great dignity and formality. Lord Calliston, a tall, dissipated young man. noticed the restraint of her manners, and commented thereon nt once. The door opened and his valet entered, soft-footed and deferential. “A gentleman to see you, my lord,” he said, handing Calliston a card. “Humph! I thought so,” said Calliston, glancing at the card; “show Mr. Dowker up, Locker.” Locker retired, and Mrs. Povy was about do follow his example when Calliston stopped her. “Don’t go, Mrs. Povy,” he said, authoritatively. “you saw this man before, so you can hear our interview—l may have to ask you something. ” Totty acquiesced obediently, and went over to the window, while Locker, showing Mr. Dowker into the room, retired, ■closing the door after him. Calliston opened the conversation at once. “Your name is Dowker—you are a detective—you want to see me about the Jermyn street murder?” “Quite correct, my lord,” replied Dowker, quietly, though rather astonished at the business-like tone assumed by calliston. “I want to ask your lordship a few questions. I want an account of your lordship’ movements on that night,” he said sir thly. Lord Calliston s, ag to his feet with a hurst of laughter. “Good heavens!” he cried. “Surely you don't think I killed Lady Balscombe?” Dowker said nothing, but looked discreetly on the ground, upon which Calliston frowned. “Now, then, Mr. Dowker,” said Calliston, tapping the table impatiently," where do you want me to begin from?” “From the time your lordship arrived ’at ‘The Pink ’Un.’ ” Calliston stared at him in astonishment. "How the deuce did you know I was there?” he asked. “Easily enough,” replied the detective, coolly; “the little urchin vou gave money to told me. ” “The devil!” said Calliston, in a vexed tone. “One seems to be surrounded with spies—pethaps you can tell me how I spent the rest of the night?” “No, I leave that for your lordship,” “Then it’s easily done,” retorted the young lord, coolly. “I left these rooms intending to go to Shoreham by the ten minutes past nine train from London Bridge.” “M as Lady Balscombe to meet you there?” “No—she intended to go first to the Countess of Kerstoke’s ball in order to avert suspicion, and then was to come down to Shoreham I y the first train m the morning—about 5:45. At all events, I left here about eight o’clock in •order to go down, when I looked in at my •club for a few minutes, aud heard of a spariing match coming off at ‘The Pink ’Un,’ and was induced by some friends to go. I thought I’d not Bother about going down by the 9:10 train, as I could catch the early train in the morning, and go down with Lady Balscombe, so I went to ‘The Pink ’Un’ and s.iw the match. Then I thought I’d go home to my rooms. Just as I got to them a woman came out of the doorway and rushed away like a mad thing, . If you remember, it was a foggy night, but I was close ■enough to recognize the dress, aud thought it was Lena Sarschine. Just as I was puzzling over her sudden appearance, a man passed me quickly and went after the woman—they both disappeared in the fog and I thought I’d better follow and find out what was up. I lost myself in the fog, and, after wandering about for a couple of hours, I managed to get a cab and go to my club. There I met some fellows, and, as I had to catch an •early train, did not think it worth while to go to bed. I fell asleep, however, on the sofa, and the end of it was I went down to Shoreham . y a late train and came on board the yacht. They told me Lady Balscombe was on board, so I ordered the yacht to start at once, and it was only when we were right out that I found out my mistak) —until I came back to England I had no more id^a than you that Lady Balscombe had been murdered. ” Dowker listened to all this with the ■deepest interest, and then asked Lord Calliston a question. “Who was the man who passed you in pursuit of the women ?” “How should I know?" replied Calliston, fidgeting in his seat. “You did not know him?” “How could I recognize any one on such a foggy night?” “Had you any idea who it was?” persisted Dowker. “Well, I had,” said Calliston, reluctantly. “It is only fancy, mind, because I did not see the man’s face, but I thought his figure and bearing resembled some one I Know.” “And the name of that some one?” “Sir Rupert Balscombe.” Dowker uttered an ejaculation of astonishment and summed up the whole thing in bis own mind. “Cock-and-bull story,” he muttered to himself. “He has learned since it was Lady Balscombe whom he saw, and wants to put the blame on to the husband —pish!" “Well,” acid Calliston anxiously.^ “It’s a grave accusation to make," said Dowker. “I’m not making any accusation, ’ retorted Calliston, violently. “I only think it was Sir Rupert. I’m not accusing him of anything. Is that all you want to snow? If so, you’ll oblige me by leaving Any rooms. ” Both men arose to their feet and looked nt one another, and so absorbed were they that they did not hear the door softly open behind them. “Not yet. Lord Calliston," said Dow-

ker calmly. “I want to know what you did those two hours you were in the fog?” Do! Nothing, except walk about looking for the woman I thought Lena Sarschine.” “And you found her?” “No.” “Bah! What jury would believe that?” “Do you mean to accuse me of this murder?" asked Calliston furiously, clinching his fists. “I accuse jou of nothing,” retorted Dowker coolly. "I merely put a case to you. Here is a man, yourself, going to run off with another woman when his mistress, as he thinks, comes to s op him. He sees her leave his chambers in a furious rage, follows her—what is more natural than that he should meet her, and she heaps reproaches on him ” “Wait a minute,” interrupted Calliston ’ with a sneer. “Your picture is very tragic, but quite wrong. Suppose I did meet the woman who left my chambers. I v ould find not Lena Sarschine, but Lady Balscombe, the very woman I wanted to meet. ” Dowker rubbed his bead, being for once in his life nonplused by a man a clever as himself. “It does sound wrong, I confess,” he said, ruefully; “still you are in an awkward situation. If you did not kill Lady Balscombe, what is the name of the person who did?” “Lena Sarschine!” It was a third voice who uttered the name, and both men turned round to see Lena Sarschine looking at them with blazing eyes. Yes!” she said, advancing toward Dowker. “I knew you suspected Calliston when you came to the yacht yesterday, and I came up to prevent him meeting you. lam too late for that, but not too late to prevent you from arresting an innocent man. You want to know who murdered my sister—l did—l was mad with rage and jealousy, I followed her from my own house and saw her leave these rooms—we met, and she told me she was going down to Shoreham and defied me, so I killed her with this dagger,” and, throwing a small silver-mounted stiletto at the detective’s feet, her unnatural strength gave way, and she sank on the floor in a dead faint, while the other two men stood looking blankly at one another. “My God!” said Calliston, “this is terrible!” “Yes," replied Dowker, “if it is true." “Don’t you believe it?” “Not one word!” CHAPTER XVII. WHAT MYLES DESMOND THOUGHT. Imprisonment is not calculated to raise a man’s spirits, consequents poor Myles, having now been shut up for some weeks, was in rather a dismal frame of mind. Norwood informed him from time to time of the discoveries that were made, so, in spite of his quixotic ideas concerning the promise he had made to Lady Balscombe, there seemed every chance that he would soon be released from his perilous position. After the discovery that Lady Balscombe was dead and not Lena Sarschine, Norwood, accompanied by May Penfold, went to tell Myles about it iu the hope that this being the cas ■ he would now tell all about his interview with the deceased, and thus possibly throw some light on the mystery. Myles was delighted to see May and clasped her fondly to his breast, while Norwood, finding the meeting of two lovers somewhat trying, busied himself with bis notes at the other end of the cell. Myles paused a moment, and was then about to speak, when the door of the cell was opened and Dowker entered in a state of suppressed excitement. “Good-morning, Miss Penfield and gentlemen," he said, rapidly. “I have some news —good news—for you!” “About what?” asked Norwood, curiously. “This Jermyn street case,” replied Dowker. “I have been to see Lord Calliston, and found out his movements on that night.” “Do they incriminate him?” asked Norwood. “If they did it would not much matter," replied the detective, “for I have disco veied the real criminal. “What?”cried Norwood and Mis> Penfold, while Myles said nothing, but fixed his eyes eagerly on Dowker’f- face. “Yes—she has confessed. “She!” cried May. “Is it a woman?" “It is—Lena Sarschine!” “Lena Sarschine!” echoed the three in astonishment. “The same. She has confessed that she followed her sister on that night and killed her through jealousy.” “What wea’ on did she use?” asked Desmond, disbelievingly. “This, ” replied Dowker, and produced the dagger Lena had thrown at his feet. “Do you believe this story ?” asked Desmond, looking at Dowker. “At first I did not believe one word,” answered the detective slowly, “but I am now doubtful, as I don’t see what she would gain by confessing herself guilty of a crime she had not committed.” “I can tell you what she would gain,” said Desmond vehemently. “Yes—she loves Calliston devotedly, and thought you were trying to bring home the crime to him. Did she oveibear your conversation?” “Some of it,” admitted Dowker reluctantly. “Then that explains all,” said Myles triumphantly. “She thought Calliston was in danger of being arrested for the murder, and swore she did it in order to save him. Remember, she has an excitable nature, and her nerves are overstrung with the horror of her sisters death. Ten to one she did not know what she was saying.” “But this dagger?” began Norwood. “Pish!” retorted Myles. “I don’t believe that toy had anything to do with it. Find out if it’s poisoned, for 111 stake my existence it is not. No, Lena Sarschine did not commit the crime’!” “You seem to be very certain,” said Dowker. “Perhaps you can tell me who did?” “I can’t tell you for certain, retorted Desmond, “but 1 have my suspicions. You wanted to know my reasons for not divulging the identity of the deceased,” he went on. turning to Norwood. “I can now give them, as this self-accusation of Lena Sarschine’s is too absurd to be allowed to stand. I told you I did not seo Lady Balscombe again on that night. I told a lie—l did. When I left the house to follow her and see that she got home , safely I went along Piccadilly, as I told you. Under a gas-lamp I saw Lady Balscombe standing talking to a man. They were quarreling, and the man’s voice was raised in anger. Suddenly I saw the man put his hand to her throat and wrench something away. Lady Balscombe gave a cry and fled across the street in the direction of St. James street, followed by the man. They were swallowed up in the fog, and I saw no more of । them. It was the direction they took that ■ led me into St. James street on that ni«ht. If you remember, there was a mark on°Ladv Balscombe’s neck, as if something had been wrenched off, so you can now understand the reason. 1 believe the man inflicted the fatal wound at th same ; time. She fled from him, went biindly ;

down St. James street, into Jermyn street, and sank in a dying condition on th© steps where she was found. ” “Did you recogniz.e the man?” asked Dowker, who had been listening intently to this story. “I did.” “And who was it?” cried the trio. “Sir Rupertßalscombe.” said Myles. May fell into Norwood's arms with a stifled cry, but Dowker began to speak rapidly: “Why, Lord Calliston also said he saw him going after Lady Balscombe. By Jove! so he is the criminal after all. AV bat a fool I've been—l’m off!” “Where to?” asked Norwood. "I want to find out where the locket and chain is that Sir Rupert wrenched off his wife’s neck.” < HAPTER XVIII. WHAT DOWKER DISCOVERED. After hearing the revelations made by Lord Calliston and Myles Desmond concerning the movements of Sir Rupert Balscombe on the night of the murder, Dowker had no doubt iu his mind that the baronet was guilt}' of the crime. Dowker did not go at once to Park lane, as he was anxious to know how Lena Sarschine, or, rather, Lady Calliston, was after her hysterical confession of guilt, so he drove down to Cleopatra A ilia, aud on being shown into the drawing room was confronted by Lord Calliston. That young nobleman looked haggard and worn out, so that in spite of his conduct, which had led to the murder of one woman and the self-accusation of another, the detective felt sorry for him. “AVhat do you want now?" he asked, irritably. “Have you come to arrest my wife?” “Your wife?” said Dowker, pretending to have heard this for the first time. "Yes,” replied Calliiston, boldly; “we were married in France, and she is now my wife. 1 don’t believe her guilty of this crime—do you?” "I told you this morning I did not,” said the detective, quietly. “It vis only a statement made by her to save jou, because she thought you were guilty. ” “AVhat do you say?” asked Calliston, abruptly. “If you had asked me this morning, I should have said the circumstances were suspicious,” s.ad Dowker, smoothly, “but now I can say heartily that you are innocent. ” “How do you know I am?" demanded Calliston, ironically. “Because I have found out the real criminal at last—one I believe to be the real criminal.” “Sir Rupert Balscombe?” “Yes, Sir Rupert Bdseome.” "I thought so,” said Call ston, bitterly. “I knew he hated his wife.” “And had he not reason?” asked Dowker, significantly. Calliston flushed,andlturned his face away. “I’m not a saint,” ho said, in a low voice, “and though my conduct may appear to have been wrong, I could hardly help myself; it would have taken a stronger man than myself to withstand the temptat.ou.” "And now?" “Now,” replied Calliston, turning toward tie detective, “1 have married the only woman lever really c ired about, and we are going a tour round the world as soon as she is well—that is, if she ever I does get well.” “Is she then so ill?” “Brain fever,” replied Calliston, curtly. I “I’m very sorry to hear it,” replied | Dowker, quietly, “for she is a noble ■ woman. ” Calliston made no reply, but flung him- I self down on a couch and buried his face j in his hands, so, without saying another | word, Dowker left the room and made his > final exit from Cleopdra Villa. It was now about I o’clock iu the after- I noon, so Dowker drove to the Park lane mansion and asked for Sir Rupert Bals- , combo. The footman told him the baro- ; net was out, but added, on hearing his I name, that Miss Pinfold had given orders I if he called that he was to be shown into I the library, as she wished to see him. Dowker was pleased at this, as he wanted I to ask May some questions, and followed | the servant in a very pleased frame of , mind. May Penfold was seated by a small ta- । ble talking eagerly to Mr. Norwood, who i sat near her with a pocketbook ope? ou his knee. AVhen Dowker entered, day arose and went forward in a curiously eager manner. Her face was very pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but her features wore a very hopeful expression, for she was now certain of saving her lover, though on the other hand she might lose her guardian. “I’m so glad you’ve come, Mr. Dowker,” she said, quickly. “Mr. Norwood and myself have been talking over the position of the case and we want your assistance. ” “I will be delighted to give it,” answered Dowker, gravely, taking a seat. “I am anxious to make Mr. Desmond all the reparation in my power, as I was the unconscious cause of all his trouble." “You only act d according to your duty,” said Norwood, in a business-like tone. “The evidence against my client was very strong, but the evidence against Sir Rupert ” “Is stronger still,” finished the detective. “Exactly; but we have to find out that evidence. Lord Calliston and Mi. Desmond can swear they saw him iu Picadilly following his wife, and the latter saw him wrench the locket oft his wife’s neck. Now, I want to find that locket, and also—if possible—the dagger with which the crime was committed.” At this moment they heard footsteps outside and a man talking, whose voice May immediately recognized. “It’s Mr. Ellersby,” she said, quickly. “He has come to see Sir Rupert about my mania »e. I cannot meet him.” “Neithercan I,” said Dowker, “as I want to see Sir Rupert alone. Is there noplace where we can wait?” “Yes, here,” said May, and walked to the end of the room, where there was a door leading to a smaller apartment, before which hnng a curtain. “Let us all go in here till. be is gone.” Dowker and Norwood took up their hats and went after her into the room, leaving the library quiet and deserted. * [TO BE CONTINUED.] Got Him. A negro boy, while walking along the street, took off his hat and struck at a w asp that had alighted on a tall shrub, hanging over a fence. The boy put on his hat, turned to a man and said: “I thought I got dat ar ole wass.” “Didn’t you get him'?” “No, sail, but I ” He snatched off his hat, clapped his hand on the top of his head, squatted, howled and said: “Blame ’f I didn’t git dat ole wass.” —J rkansaxv Traveler. Most, of us worry over our trials, but the lawyers worry if they haven’t ■ any,

INDIANA HAPPENINGS. EVENTS AND INCIDENTS THAT HAVE lately occurred. An Interesting Summary of the More Important Doings of Our Neighbors—We<lsltngs ami Deaths—Crime, Casualties aud General Mews Notes. Great Find of Sand at Pendleton. A layer of the finest sand in existence was discovered at Pendleton, by workmen drilling for water. The sand resembles the celebrated Lanesborough sand, of Massachusetts, in many respects. It has been pronounced by experts to be just the thing for the manufacture of plate-glass and all kinds of glassware. Tne layer is from fourteen to twenty feet thick and covers acres of | ground. It can be easily reached without removing thetop crust of limestone, ns it crops out along the banks of Fall Creek, and can be mined from within without going to the expense of removing the vast layer of solid rock that nature has placed between it and the world. It has been estimated that it can be placed upon the market at 80 cents per ton, instead of $3, asisnow charged the glass manufactories in this gas belt by an Illinois syndicate. There is an immense fortune in this sand for some capitalist who has the means to develop the mines and place the article on the market. Kewanh of Genious. Patents have been granted Indianians as follows: Aaron B. Albert, Indianapolis, folding chair; Louis Bell, Lafayette, lightning arrester and system of electrical distribution; Charles F. Blandon, C. A. Ross, and J. J. Lumm, Michigan City, combined castor socket and corner brace; James AV. Bridge, Young America, plow attachment; Samuel Burkin, Anderson, straw-stacker; Edward M. Colles, R. C. Kitehell and D. C. Applegate, Princeton, washingmachine; Edward 0. Hopkins, Alaxwell, bee-hive; John R. Lamb, Goodview, post-hole boring machine; Leonard Logan, Plymouth, washing-machine; Joseph B. McKeely, BroWn’s A'alley, wire stretcher; AVintield A v . Mullen and F. M. Mullen, Bunker Hill, cultivator: Sigourney AVales, Terre Haute, assignor to AVhittmore Bros. A Co., Boston, Mass., safetj - package; Lewis AVallace, Crawfordsville, combined joint bar and railway tie, railway cross-tie ami metal pad for railway ties; Frederick A. AVilke, Richmond, china firing kiln. Jail Delivery at Crawlordsvllle. Three prisoners, Janies Hogan, Frank Kelly and Mat Lynes, escaped from the jail at Crawfordsville. The wife of Sheriff McClarkey hoard a noise in the corridor, and going in to investigate, noticed that the outside bolt to the ccllcorridor door was out, and these three ; prisoners were standing at the iron- | grating door. As she walked toward the i door to put the pin back, the men pushed I open the door, and, rushing past her । intotho dining-room, thence going to the kitchen, they escaped. They were ; in jail on the charge of burglarizing the ' Casad grocery, in April. They had I used two knives, a small file ami some I nitric acid, and had drilled a holo from ' the inside, just opposite the iron pin that heldthe door. Then a small wire , was tiled from a dust-pan. and with this ) wire passed through the hole, the pin i was worked out. AVhen the men were I not at work drilling the hole, they I would fill it up with soap, so it could not be noticed. Minor State Items. — Rev. Robert Hect, German Lutheran minister at Elkhart, dropped dead. —The farmers’ organization have put a full ticket in the field in Dubois County. — Charles Kramer, a councilman of Bedford, died very suddenly in bed of heart disease. —Charles Moore was caught in the shafting in a planing-mill at Evansville, and seriously injured. —A bed of lead ore, eighteen inches thick, has been discovered near Yountsville, Montgomery County. —Frank BucKley, an employe of Bimel’s wheel-works at Portland, hadanarm cut off in an automatic spoke-lathe. —John Hilburn was found lying in an out-building at Newberry, unconscious, and frothing at the mouth. He expired shortly afterward. —“Uncle” John AVilliams, of Edinburg, has the original mill-stone which ground the first corn, by hand, ever ground in that section of country, away back in 18'20. —Farmers of Porter County have formed an anti-horse-thief Association at Chesterton. The horse stealing industry has assumed large proportions in that section. —A passenger train running north on the Louisville, New Albany aud Chicago road ran down John Burns, living near Bedford, and he was so badly injured that lie will die. He was a well-known citizen. —The Odd Fellows of Greencastle have purchased the old Voss building, on the north side of the square, and will proceed to erect a new building for use as their hall and business rooms. The consideration was $3,200. —James Elliott, of Harmony, was seriously injured by falling slate in the Peanut mine at Knightstown, operated by the AVatson Coal and Mining Company. His injuries are very bud, but not necessarily fatal. Mr. Elliott is a man of family. Mrs. Caroline AVinters, a woman with a sad history, died recently in the Old Ladies’ Home, at New Albany, aged 84. Thirty years ago her husband, a prosperous manufacturer in Louisville, Ky., disappeared suddenly. His business was wound up and found all right, aud no cause for his disappearance could be shown. The familj’ mourned him as murdered, when, twenty vears alter, he as unaccountably reappeared as a tramp, making no explanation, and, mentally and physically, a wreck. He lived but a few yore after his return.

—During n severe storm, David Mun- ' son, who was driving a load of hay on ' the Smithland pike, near Shelbyville, was struck by lightning and killed, to- 1 gether with the horse. —Omar, the 10-year-oldson of AVilliam Foxworthy, of Knightstown, fell from a 1 Panhandle railroad bridge, receiving injuries from which he may not recover His left leg was fractured above the knee, and he was injured internally. f —A recklessly-driven horse attached to a buggy ran over J. S. Bennett at , Jeffersonville and seriously bruised him. , On account of his age and feeble condi- j tion his injuries may result fatally. —Hiram Stanfield, of Hillham, was ’ convicted in the Dubois Circuit Court of * buying the vote of David Philips aud sentenced to jail for thirty days with a , I fine of $25 and disfranchised for ten • years. —Charles AV. Hammond, one of the ) most notorious horse thieves Indiana has ever produced, is dead at the northern prison, where he was sent from Boone County in 1887 to serve a sentence of thirteen years. —A 10-year-old boy, a deaf mute, ! while walking along the Air-line raili way at Dale station, a few miles south : of Huntington was run over by a passenger train and instantly killed, his body being horribly mangled. —AVhile Alari on Bennett and Edward Nolan, two Jeffersonville boys, were fishing in Lewis pond, a stray bullet, fired by some one unknown in the adjacent woods, lodged, iu the back of Bennett’s skull, making a fatal wound. —An attempt was made at Jeffersonville, to assassinate Rev. E. Andran, rector of St. Augustine's Catholic church. Two shots were fired as he was standing on his porch. The perpetrator missed his mark and escaped. The venerable priest is popular and was not known to have an enemy. —J. AV. Howard, alias AValter Scott, alias Elmer Mitchell, who, for the past few months, has been swindling the Carpenters’ Union at Battle Creek, Indianapolis, Delphos, Defiance and many other places to the extent of SI,OOO. entered a plea of guilty in the Circuit Court at Fort AVayne, and was sentenced by Judge Alden to two years in the penitentiary. —Clint Lucas, a driver at the CrawI ford Coal Company’s mine, at Knightstown. was injured in a very peculiar manner. He was riding on a hitching between two loaded bank cars and, in passing through the trap-door, his head was caught between the cross-bar and the loaded car while the mule was pulling at a rapid rate. His injuries are very severe and may prove fatal. The in-coming Air-line train, which ; always separates a short distance above I the depot, at Rockport, on a steep I grade, parted as usual, but the brakes I on the coaches refused to work, and ’ they came in at a lively gait. They ' crashed into some box cars standing I on the main track, throwing the baggage car from th^ track. All the pas- । sengers were considerably shaken up. Miss Alice Beeler, of Chrisney, received ; severe in juries. The C., 11. A D. accommodation west-bound ran down five children on a trestle over the creek just east of Rushville. Some of them leaped from ; the trestle into the stream, but two were J knocked off by the locomotive, which | had been slowed up, but not iu time to i save the children from injury. One of them, a little girl ten or twelve years of age, had an arm broken and was otherwise injured. The others fortunately escaped with only an ugly ducking. —The large barn on the Colwell firm, ’ near AVashington. was totally destroyed ' | by fire, together with a self-binder, road- ■ I cart, agricultural implements, and some i hay and grain. Loss, $1,500; insured in the Phoenix of Hartford for $30(1. j There seems to be an organized band of I barn-burners in the territorv east of this * : city, who are determined to destroy the | property of the wealthy farmers, no less I than ten barns having been destroyed I by incendiary fires during the past fivd ! months. —Jeff AVilliams was run over by ar j engine at the C. & I. C. depot Brazil - in a state of intoxication, and his right arm and leg cut off, the arm above the elbow and the leg between foot and knee. AVilliams has been for several years an inmate of the Clay County ■ poor-house, but had a large inheritance left him by his father, Nathan AVilliams an early coal operator at Staunton, some years ago, all of which he squandered bj' dissipation. He is about forty-seven years of age, and it is thought by the attending physician that he will not survive the shock. —During a heavy rainstorm at AVina- ' mac, lightning played havoc with the residence of J. N. Brown. It struck the roof near the center, followed the cone, demolished all the chimneys, scattered bricks and boards hundreds of feet and left the hs-use in a very dilapidated condition. Mr. Brown who was out ot doors at the time, was thrown violently to the ground, while his wife, who was । 'n the weaying-room, which was left । without any siding, was not even 1 ! shocked. Their daughter Estella, who was at work in the kitchen, was struck ou the hip, her dress and stockings and shoes split in two pieces and torn from her foot. She is in a very critical condition, with very small hopes for her recovery. j —Etta AVyant, aged 14 years, was per- ! haps fatallv shot by her little sister ■ Mary, at their home in Forrest. It was ’ a case of “didn't know it was loaded,” the ball taking effect just over the right eye. —On the farm of Isham AVest, apiotni--1 nent farmer living three miles north--1 west of Montpelier, can be found a calf 1 that lacks thirteen months of being as 1 old as its mother. Last week a thirteen months’ eld heifer belonging to Mr. 1 AVest gave birth to a nice healthy calf, j which weighed only twenty-five pounds.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL entertaining dissertation on SERIOUS SUBJECTS. A Pleasant, Interesting, and Instructive Lesson and Where It May Be Found—A. Learned and Concise Review of the Same. Ihe lesson for Sunday, May 25, may ba found in Luke 10; 1-16. LESSON PARAGRAPHS. The account of the seventy is given by Luke alone, Matthew, Mark and Luke writing in the narrative of the sending forth of the twelve. (Matt. 10: 1-42.) Ihe Savior was now on his way southward toward Jerusalem. Somewhere in that journey he selected from among his disciples as many as seventy, who should go before him and announce his coming in the cities through which he was to pass. The mission of the seventy was more specific than that of the twelue. It was to prepare for the cornin' of the Messiah. As such it was but temporary. lh» twelve were given permanent authority and power. Theirs was uu enduring commissiou. The whole language indicates rapidity of movement. The first word of Christ, swift and sharp, “Go.” (One word in the Greek.) “Behold, I send you,” might be translated, Lo I dispatch you. They were to carry neither purse nor shoes. They were to stay not for the courtesy of salutation, slow and long drawn out; neither were they to go about fulfilling visitation favors. “Oue thing I do" their motto. Two by two. There is grace in it. Have you made trial of the plan? There was a religious call to be made, one of a serious and indeed critical soit. On the wav we stopped in and took with us a Christian yokefellow, a brother full of the spiiit of his Master. The power of that visit was not multiplied by two, but more nearly by ten. And we have almost invariably found it so. Try it and see. Take a helper with you; but be sure, as you go, it be ever “before his face.” But the laborers ar« few. Harvest great, laborers few. That is our “labor question.” Not how shall we get work for all? But how shall we secure men to take care of the work already upon us? It is laborers we need, laborers. One might care little how they come, whether it be up the long road fiom the factory, where scythes are thoroughly shaped and ground, or whether they take the “short cut” and come "across lots,” seizing up and whetting as they run, such implements of husbandry as they tnd nearest at hand. The harvest is full, dead ripe; and if workmen do not spring at once to the fields there will bo much grain wasted. AVork for all, the good, the better and the best. This only is necessary, that every hand hold a blade and know how to wield it. O, to see it once so, the force of laborers as “great” as the harvest! "Pei ebe unto this house” was to be their salut ition. It was tentative, testing. If a son of peace Wi s there (“the” is misleading). The peace they spoke was to find lodgment. If not, it was to return to themselves. It was as if they said, “Peace for you, if you will take it." So goes the messenger to-day, say nr, “Christ for you, for you. AVho will take Christ?” Those who have the responsive spirit within will receive him; those who have not will miss the blessing. Even the very dust of your city which cleaveth unto us we do wipe off against you. For you, is the more accurate rendering. It was according to men’s wilj and wish. There was to be no pressure. Simply a proclamation of grace at hand. If men declined the proffer the disciple was to accept the decision and wipe off for them, ns being their deliberate choice in the matter, the very dust of their city. A fearful responsibility is ours. AVecan effectuaFy dismiss God’s angels from our thresholds. If we so elect God’s overtures of grace will be suspended for us. And yet how near the kindgom! “Notwithstanding be ye sure of this, that the kingdom of God is come nigh unto you.” Sterner, sadder words were never spoken. To those who accept and those who refuse, the grace of God is offered. AVhether they take it joyfully, glance at it indifferently, or reject it scornfully, nevertheless let it be remembered that the kingdom of God has been right at the heart’s door. If it goes from them they are to know that they themselves have sent it away. “I would—but ye would not." More tolerable in that day for Sodom. Then there is a future for Sodom. There are those that tell us that Sodom has had its day; its judgment is past. But here we are plainly told that there is another day of judgment in the far distant future, a day when men shall be judged more fully and righteously than here, according to the deeds done in the flesh, “Are you ready forthat day to come?” AVoe unto thee, Chorazin, Chorazin? AA 7 e had not heard of such a place before. AVe did not know that Christ had been there. But here it is with a woe pronounced against it, because of Christ made manifest and Christ deliberately rejected. Ah, Christ visited many towns and hamlets of which we know little; but we shall hear of them at the judgment. And around about us to-day there are many hearts to whom God has spoken, albe t a careless face is borne. However indifferent they may seem, God is surely dealing with them on close terms, and some time this hidden controversy shall be made startlinglj’ manifest. Shall it be a “woe,” or shall it be a “blessed?” It is for these to say. He that heareth you heareth me. This our comfort as we go before his face. Christ identifies himself with his servants. He that despiseth (rejecteth) you despiseth me—this our source of trembling. AVe bring to men the opportunity, under God, for decision unto everlasting life. Pastors, Sunday-school teachers, Christian workers, let us go forward reverently, prayerfully. Think of it, as this word is spoken to-day, however weakly, the kingdom of God is, through the Holy Spirit, brought nigh to men. This community, this church, this Sunday school, this class, this individual, can to-day take or refuse, as he will, the answer to the oft-breathed prayer, “Thy kingdom come.” AVhy not open the heart right now and receive it? Next Lesson—“ The Good Samaritan.” Luke 10: 25-37. An unfair thing in this world is that we never know there is an ounce of prevention until after we have taken our pound of cure. A little boy who had to rock the cradle for his baby sister astonished his mother thus : “Mamma, if the Lord has any more babies to give away don t you take ’em.” “Ah,” he said as the postman handed him a letter, “an epistle!” “No,” said his wife as she opened the envelope and a tailer's bill fluttered to the floor. “Not an epistle; a collect.” “Does young Drywhissel drink ?” “Drinks like sixty.” " “Then hell soon look like it, too,”