St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 15, Number 49, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 31 May 1890 — Page 3

THE DYING HOUSE BY MBS. NAPOLEON B. MORANUJ Fall back ! 1 nil buck ! Give him room to die 1 Hard is the bed where he needs must lie ■ For his toilsome life this is the end! ’ Has he no master no loving friend? js it here the old horse must welcome death Where a gaping crowd watches every breath’ gjndertlie midsummer's scorching sun? ’ Is this his reward for work well done? joowhis limbs shudder! How his eyes roll! geek mey at. last for a pitying soul? <Or only for quiet—quiet to die Hn some lonely valley green, where a brook gurgles by? No; h«l "owe nothing of clover-fields coo] Wher- cattle at noonday stand deep in’the pool; He never wandered the pastures swoet— His roadway through life was the stony street. .Cherished while work brought his owner gain To si rangers left in this hour of pain • Deserted, now that his task is over. ’ Not for his old days are the fields of clover. Not for him will the field-lark sing, Not for him the lush grasses spring • Nor to him will liberty come, In his tired oid age, in some country home. Here he must suffer—here he must die Under the midsummer’s scorching sky • Him the broad shade-tree will never woo He has known but the pavement his whole life through. Still we iu our vaunted pride of soul ■Conceive no future, no restful goalNo ethereal pasture in regions blest ■Where the poor old horse may in spirit rest New York City. The Piccadilly Puzzle, t THE STORY OF A TERRIBLE EPISODE B THE LIFE OF AN EMILISII AOMIN. ■' '■ • ♦-•— By F. W. HUME. CHATTER XIX. the end of it ail. Spencer Ellersby, well dressed, non'fhalant and languid, entered the room with a smile on h:s face, which faded quickly when he found there was no one •present to receive him. “I thought you said Miss Penfold was here." he observed sharply, turning to the footman who was showing him in. “So she was, sir,” stammered the servant in some confusion, “and two gentlemen.” “Gentlemen I" muttered Ellersby to himself, taking a chair; “some of those emptv-headed men about town, I suppose.” “I think Miss Penfold must have gone tip to the drawing-room, sir,” said the servant, turning toward the door. “Will I take your name up, sir?” “No,” replied Ellersby, with a yawn. “I want to see Sir Rupert, just now; so I’ll wait here till be comes in, and go up-stairs afterward. ” “Very good, sir,” said the footman, and was just retiring when Sir Rupert, looking jaded and worried, entered the room, upon ■ .hieh Ellersby lose to his feet, and the footman, go.ng out, closed the door behind him. “Ah, Sir Rupert,” he said, carelessly, “I am so glad to see you, as I thought I’d have to wait for some time. I must apologize for coming into this room, but your servant said Miss Penfold was there.” “Have you seen her?” said Sir Rupert, moodily, taking his seat in front of the desk and swinging round the seat so as to face bis visitor. “No, he made a mistake. She is up in the drawing-room, so I am going to see her later on.” “Meanwhile?”'demanded the baronet. “I am going to see you,” finished Ellersby, smoothly, resuming his seat. Bals ombe raised his eyebrows. “What about?” “A very important subject—marriage.” “Whose marriage?” “My own.” “What have I to do with your mar.riaga?” “A great deal,” replied Ellersby, calmly, “because I want to marry Miss Penfold.” “Impossible,” said Balscombe, pointedly “quite impossible.” “How so?” asked the other, coolly. “I have a good position, plenty of money, and my character is good.” “Your moral character?” sneering. “Oh, that,” with a laugh, “is no better nor wor-e than other young men, so 1 would like your answer. Will you favor mv suit ?” “No. ” “I think you will,” said Ellersby, coldly, "for the very good and sufficient reason that I cun loree you to.” “How so?” “You know well enough,” sneered the other. “If the police ask me who committed the Jermyn street murder, I can tell them who did it—Rupert Balscombe.” “You scoundrel!—do you mean to say I killed my wife?” “I can swear it—and I will, too, if you don't give me your ward!” “It’s a cursed lie!” cried the baronet, white with fury; "where are your proofs?” “Open that’ hiding place, and you’ll find them.” Sir Rupert gave a stilled cry. and staggered back against the desk, while Ellersby looked at him with a smile of triumph. The three listeners in the other room were standing close to the door, with greedy ears drinking m every word of this strange conversation. The baronet, with an effort, recovered himself, and, turning to the desk, touched the secret spring and took down the carving. 1 here lay the locket, the chain, and the fatal arrow. “There is the locket you wrenched off your wife’s neck on that night,” said Ellersby, pitilessly, “and there is the poisoned arrow-head with which you committed the crime!” Baiscombd took out the objects and looked at them vacantly. “What deviltry is this?” he said, fiercely. “This is the locket I know—the locket that contains your hair and your picture, curse you' But the arrow-head —I know nothing of tint.” “Bah! Who would believe you?” replied the other, mockingly. “It is in your secret drawer.” rM “How did yon know this hiding place? demanded Balscombe. “I never said I knew it. “No; but you said your evidence was in there, so you must have seen these things boore. I believe you put the arrow-head there yourself.” “Did I, indeed?” said Ellersby, with a sneer. "Where would I get the arrowhead? Don’t blame me lor a crime you committed yourself.” “I did not commit it!” shouted Balscombe in a frenzy. “I a'knowledge I knew of my wife’s intended elopement, and came up from Berkshire to prevent it. I was too late, and went to Calliston s

jooms io see him. I missed the door in the fog, and when I found it. the first tb^h 1 8aw T w ' as my guilty wife leaving t^ h«. t' 1 , 10 . l h er and caught up to her—she shrieked, and I gave wav to my just anger. I knew sh £ this locket, and thought it contained Callison s portrait, not yours, so wrenched it r l ? 6Ck ‘° make BU ™‘ S he ran away across the street and I lost her iu the fo<u nich^tm^T Baw , n ° more of her on that aicffit till I read of her death." dead?” 1 kneW U WaS your wife that ™ " [ was not certain. I hoard the Seamew had sailed with Lady Balscombe on board, and thought that the dead woman was some wretched street-walker with whom my wife had changed clothes; but 1 was not certain that she was dead till I saw Lona Sarschine on board the Seamow, then I knew my wife was the victim of the <Jermyn street tragedy; but I swear I aid not kill her. Ellersby laughed scofflngly. Os course it is to your interest to say hat; but who will believe you with such evideuc e against you?" J suppose you mean to denounce sa . ld the baronet, coldly. „ you ngree to give me the hand of May Penfeld." “I cannot force her inclinations.” ■ h ut you are her guardian and can influence her.” “If I refuse?" You do so at your own risk.” “And that risk?” “Means hanging to you!” said Ellersby, bruf ally. Ihe two men stood looking fixedly at one another, and for a few moments tlieie was a dead silence, while the three listeners waited with beating hearts for the end of the conversation, which se med to promise the solution of this extraordinary mystery. Balscombe remained for a time in deep thought, and then looked up with a look of determination in his eyes. I decline to accede to your demand,” he said, firmly. “Then you must take the consequence.” “I am prepared to do so.” Ellersby paused for a minute. AV iil you tell me the reason for your decision?" “First, because I am innocent of the crime you accuse me of; and second, I believe sou place! this poisoned arrowhead here in order to implicate me in the murder. ” “I can speak openly to you,” said Ellersby, coolly, "because you are in my power. "I did place the poisoned arrowhead) here, in order to secure evidence against you!” "Then it was you killed my wife!” cried Bal combe, stepping toward him with the arrow-head in his hand. “I never sa d I did,” retorted Ellersby, audaciously; “but I can tell you this—l met your wife on that night after you left her, and I asked her for those letters, as they compromised both her and myself. She told me where they were, and described the hiding-place to mo. Last time I was here I searched ..and discovered the secret, but the letters were not there.” “No. They were removed by me.” “So I see—but if I did not find the let- i ters I found something better, the locket : with my portrait which you took from ’ your wife’s neck on that night so, as I wanted to marry Miss i’enfold, and ■ wanted ”011 to help me, I placed there the j arrow-b id so as to force you for your i own safety to help me. I have succeeded, I and you must do what I order or swing ■ for it." “You devil!” cried Balsoome, madly. I “It was you who murdered my unhappy j wife. Do not deny it! I can see it in your cowardly face. I will accuse you before the world and hang you for your crime.” 1 “Bah! Who will believe your word ! against mine? There is no evidence against me!” “Your own confession!” "Does not include a confession of mur- j der. What I have said to you in private 1 will deny in public; yon have no wit- i nesses.” “You lie—here are three!” The two men turned round with a cry, and there on the threshold of the room stood May Penfold, with a look of tri- jumph in her eyes —and behind, Dowker ; and Norwood. Ellersby saw he was lost, ; and with a harsh shriek made a bound for the door of the library, but before he j could reach it Balscombe threw himself j on him and bore him to the ground. The j two men rolled on the tloor lighting des- ; perately, and then Dowker joined in to assist in securing Ellerby, when suddenly i his struggles ceased and he became quite J passive. “It's all over,” he said quietly, with a livid face, as Balscombe arose to his feet. ■ “I will escape you yet.” “You will not esc <pe the gallows,” cried ( Balscombe, panting. "Yes, I will,” sneered Ellersby, with a ' ghastly smile, “and by yourown act. You ; forgot you had the poisoned arrow-head ; in your hand, and you have wounded me. j See. ” He held up his right hand and there I they saw along red, ragged wound where i the weapon had torn him. “In ten minutes I will be a dead man,” ■ he said quietly. “Not all the science in I the world can save me now.” “Curse it!” cried Dowker, in a rage, I while the other three remained silent with horror. “Ah! You are angry at my escaping from you,” said Ellersby, with his usual cynic.sm. “Console yourself, rny astute thief-catcher; my capture would have i not redounded to your credit, as you were quite on the wrong scent. You suspected Desmond, Lena Sarschine, and Balscombe; every one but the right one. I have fooled you to the end, and, now I am caught, will yet escape your 1 clutches.” May .Penfold stepped toward him. I “As you have sinned so deeply,” she | said, in a low tone, “you had better i make reparation while you may, »nd | confess all, so as to release Myles from I prison. Meanwhile, I will go for a doctor. ” He signed her feebly to remain. “No doctor can do me any good,” he said, faintly, “but I will tell all. Mr. Dowker will, peril ips, wr te it down, and, if I’m not too far gone, I’ll—l’ll sign it. ” “I will write your confession,” said Norwood, and, sitting down at the desk, he took up a pen and waited. It was a strange scene. Ellersby lying on the floor with his eyes half closed, Balscombe leaning against the desk, with his clothes all torn, and a white, haggard face, and May I’enfold, standing beside Dowker, looking with pitying eyes at the dying man at her feet. “As he knew he had not long to live, Ellersby commenced at once: “I am, as you know, the son of a West Indian, and’ came to England to be educated. I was brought up, in early childhood, by a negro nurse, and before I left Barbadoes she gave me an arrow-head, which, she told me, was steeped in poison, and ti at one scratch would kill. Something to do with their Obi business, I suppose. She told me to use it on my enemies, but I was net so savage as she was, though I have got negro blood in my veins, and I did not bother much about it. I finished mv education and went into society. One time, while down at Folk-

"tone, I met Amelia Dicksfall, and love J nor you do not know how 110 red her—- , all the mad passion of a Creole. She led me on till I was her slave, an I then refused to marry me for at least twe years, for what reason I was then ignorant, but now I know it was because she wanted to marry a title, and kept no iu hand so as to become my wife if she tailed to realize her ambition. I went abroad and when I returned a short time ago I found she had married Balscembe. I saw her and reproached her with hei treachery, but she only laughed at me. ^ 10 u heard how she carried or with Calliston and swore I would kill lor if she preferred him to me. She denied that she cared for him, and then I heard about . her projected elopement find determined to make one more appeal to her. If that failed I took an oath I world kill her with the poisoned arrowhead. I thought I would see heron that night, so, dressing myself in evening dress, I put the arrowhead in my pocket and went along to Park lane. I was told she lad gone to the Countess of Kerstoke’s ball, and, thinking this was a mere subteriige on her part, I thought I would go to (alliston’s chamber and see him. I vent along to his rooms iu Piccadilly, but is I did not know where they were it was some time before I found them. I was going in when I saw Balscombe waiting about and wondered what he was diing there. AVhile thus waiting a woman 01 me out and I recognized Lady Balscomb* at once. I saw Sir Rupert go after her and witnessed their dispute under the lanp. I saw him wrench off the locket and taen Lady Balscombe fled. I folloved and found her wandering vaguely aboutiuthe fog. She recognized me and we had a stormy interview. I insisted on her coming to my hotel and going away with ne in the mornii g, pointingout that now her husband had seen her coming out of Calliston’s chambers he would apply fbr a divorce. I then asked her about tae letters, and she told me where thay were. I said I would get them, aad then Sir Rupert would never know with whom she had gone away. She agreed to go with me, and went as far as Jermyn stree:; thenlshe refused to go further, saying she loved Calliston and hated me. She insisted ou going down to Shoreham in the morning, and taunted me so that I got mad with auger and determined to kill her. So I apparently agreed to what she said and aske t her to kiss me for the last time. She dad so, and when I was embracing her I wounded her in the neck with the poisoned arrow-head. She thought it was only a pin pricking her, but when she was dying I told her what I had done, and said that now she could never be anv other man’s mistress or wife. She died shortly afterward, and then I thought about saving myself, so went along to the Countess of Kerstoke’s ball, in order to 1 rove an alibi should it be necessary. In coming back I went up the steps where I had left her to see if she was still there, thinking the body might have been discovered. It was still lying there, however, so I called the policeman. The rest you know. As to the arrow-head, I placed it in there in looking for the letters, in order to throw the blame on Bals- ! combe, because I knew all his movements ! on that n ght were in favor of the [iresumption of his having committed the 1 crime." He paused at this point, for his eyes i were becoming glazed and his voice was : faint and weak. Norwood had written I out the words that had fallen from his : lips, and row brought the paper ami a : pen in order for him to sign it. The ! dying man raised himself on his elbow ■ with an effort and signed his name with ' difficulty in the place indicated by the lawyer. AA hen this was done B dscome • and Norwood affixed their signatures as I witnesses; then the latter placed the confession in an env' lO]io. 1 The action of the poison being very 1 rapid. Ellersby was now in a hnlf-eom-j atose condition, his eyes being closed and his breathing stertorous. Ho l»van j to speak again iu a drowsy voice, which bounded as if he was far away. “It’s the irony of Fate * * * brouglM me here * * * to my death. I came to conquer and remain to die. * * * ' The old Greeks were right. * * * . Man * * * sport of Fate * * * Nemesis * * * wins hands down I * * * if there is * * * world beyond * * * I ’ ’ ’ ! * ’ ’ find * * * ” His s’ow, monotonous voice stoppod ■ here and his hea i fell back; to alt appearances ho was asleep, but the onlooki ers knew it was his last earthly sleep, ami when he awoke it would be in ani other world. The calm, placid light of evening stole softly through the windows an 1 shone on 1 the still face of the dead man, and on the awe-struck spectators. Epilogue. The Piccadilly puzzle being now solved, ! nothing remained but to settle all mat- ; ters in connection therewith, which was 1 speedily done. The publication of the whole story caused a great deal of excitement. and of course all the newspapers ' quoted the well-known proverb that ; “truth is stranger than fiction.” Myles Desmond was released from • prison, and became a kind of hero owing ; to the fortitude with which he had sustained his unpleasant position. Sir Rupert gave his consent to May Penfold’s marriage with him, and it. took place at St. George’s, Hanover Square,with great splendor, and the happy pair departed to the Continent for tbeir honeymoon. On their return, Myles published a novel he had written, which was a great success, and being in an independent position, owing to his wife’s fortune, he had the peculiar satisfaction of writing to please himself and not the public. j Lord Calliston did not rem dn in Lon- | don long, as the part he had played in • the terrible drama was not by any means an enviable one; so as soon as Lena Sarschine, now Laly Calliston, recovered I from her illness they went away to the ' South Seas in the Seamew, where among the gorgeous scenery of the islands they soon forgot the one tragic episode of their lives. Sir Rupert did not marry again, but left London for his place in the country, where he shut himself up like a hermit, and steadily refused to Sie any one. His faith in womankind was gone, and not having any heirs, a distant cousin is now eagerly Waiting for his demise, as he is anxious to enjoy the Balscombe estates and the large income appertaining thereto. [THE END.] Not tired of Him. Mrs. DeVeary—And so you have been married five years, and are as much iu love with your husband as ever ? Mrs. Cheery—Yes, indeed. “Hum! AVhat business is your husband in ?” “He’s captain of a whaler.” —Mew York Weekly Prof, G. Frederick AAuught, the learned archieologist, has explored the 1 Trenton gravel, and has determined the presence of man on this continent at the time when the glaciers were weeping down across its surface.

INDIANA HAPPENINGS. events and incidents that havh EATBEV OCCURRED. An IntcrestinE Summary of tho Moro Important Doings of Our Neighbors--W«<l-ilings and Deaths—Crime, Casualties and General News Notes. Minor State items. —Edward Clinger, of Logansport, was killed by the cars at Leroy. —The Newman paper-mill, at Kokomo, is being greatly enlarged. —Black diphtheria has appeared in Clay Township, St. Joseph County. —A. S. Bright, of Huntington, lost both legs while switching cars at Kingsland. —The electric-light plant of Rockport will be in operation by the 10th of June. —An empty house at Vincennes was j blown up by unknown dynamiters be- : cause it had been rented to obnoxious I tenants. —Knightstown has secured another' important industry in a handle factory, to be erected and operated by local cap- | italists. —M. L. Loe lost control of red-hot • wire he was handling in the Anderson I rod-mill, and it passed completely ■ through his wrist. —Seven prisoners attempted toescape from the Rockport jail, but were caught after they had succeeded in cutting a hole through the wall. —Lightning struck a tree in the yard of Thomas McKillup, at Muncie, and tore it in pieces, hurling a heavy fragment through the roof of the residence. —A costly freight wreck occurred at the junction, near Delphi, a AVabash freight crashing into a Monon freight as it was crossing. Nobody was injured. - Anybody who wishes to walk a tight j rope across the falls at AVilliamsport, | AA'arreu County, can secure a job on the I Fourth of July by addressing James Armstrong, at that place. — Prof. J. AA’. Carr, a teacher in the Muncie High-school, has been selected by the Anderson School Board to take charge of and superintend that citv’s schools, at a salary of $1,200 per year. —The corner-stone of the new Crtholic St. Patrick's Church at Fort AVayne was laid with appropriate ceremonies. All the Catholic societies of the city I and vicinity marched in the procession. I —At Bobo, six miles oast of Decatur, j Robert Bright, a freight brakeman on | the Chicago and Atlantic Railroad, ! caught his foot in a switch frog. A car I passed over him, cutting off both legs. I He will die. Charlis Millen and David Kellams, j two desperate characters, indulged in 1 an impromtu duel at Derby, in which I Kellams iired the first shot and was in • turn kill'd by a shot through the j breast. No arrests. - Bert Ez.ra, of Crawfordsville, acci- i dentally diopned a lighted match into ' the mouth of a patent gas-generator, j causing an explosion. Ihe generator i was destroyed, and Ezra received severe I injuries and suffered the loss of some | teeth. A 2-year-old son of Oliver Moon, of | AVashington Township, day County, ! met witu a peculiar, but fatal accident. | The child fell from a chair and struck its head upon the tloor, inflicting such injuries as to cause its death in a few minutes. J. I>. Bird and Bert Bird, father and son, residing near Blountsville. < quarreled over the possession of a cornplanter, and the son fatally stamped his father about the breast. He is himself dangerously ill from no other known cause that remorse. — AA’hile a miner, Oscar Lusky, was at ! work in his room at Evansville, a blast from an adjoining loom tore through the partition wall and struck him, breaking his ribs and mangling him in a horrible manner. His injuries are so bad that be cannot recover. —The Diamond-plate Glass Company, of Kokomo, has commenced the erection of another large additional two-story brick building, 200x217.feet, to be used as a foundry and machine-shop. On the completion of this over twelve acres of ground will be under roof. —Charles Harper, a youth, while attempting to get in a road cart at Scottsburg, lost his balance and fell beneath the horse’s feet. Before he could be removed from his perilous position the animal stepped upon his face, crushing his features in a frightful man ner. —The Kokomo Natural-gas Company has opened another monster gas-well, near that city. So powerful was the pressure that 600 feet of four-inch casting was blown out, and twisted and coiled in all shapes among the trees. Four workmen and severalby-standers miraculously escaped injury. —At Swayzee, the pressure of the gas in the xvell that supplies the town blew out a valve, the escaping gas ignited and burned down the derrick and the regu-lator-house, involving a loss of SI,OOO. The citizens of Swayzee will have to burn wood until the well can be controlled and the damage repaired —Henry AVinklebeck, the lumberdealer who disapneared from Royal Center, is believed to be in Canada. About SIO,OOO of paper forged by him has turned up in Logansport, and more is believed to be afloat. Judge D. P. Baldwin is caught for $3,000, the National Bank SI,OOO, and others smaller amounts. —The large farm-house and barn of Thomas J. Harness, living near Kokomo, were burned to the ground, together xvith all their contents, the family being able only to save themselves. Seven valuable horses perished in the flames. The total loss will aggregate $12,000, on which there was only $2,100 insurance. The buildings were large and new, and the contents very valuable. This is plainly the work of incendiaries, the torch being applied to the structures simultaneously. Nir. Harness is a brother of Senator Harness, of Kokomo.

—Mrs. Charles Sikes died at Frankfort from the effects of an accident seven months ago on the Monon. —Four milk cows in one locality in Columbus died very suddenly, and in a manner indicating that they had been poisoned, and the dead animals’ stomachs were examined and found to contain poison. —Mrs. Hite, wife of John Hite, the carriage manufacture!, of Franklin, committed suicide by hanging. She escaped the vigilance of her attendant, took a long towel and hanged herself in the wood shed. Death resulted from strangulation, as her knees almosttouched the floor. She had been unsound in mind for several years—The confession of the wife of J. AV. Brown, who was murdered in Morgan County, in 1876, proves to be a hoax. Mrs. Brown died recently, and was alj leged to have told a daughter that herself and sons put her husband out of the | way. As no daughter was present at her I death bed, or with her for months be- • fore she died, the story is obviously un true. It is also denied by James ’I. | Brown, a son of the murdered man, and I by attorneys who have investigated the I case. —The new catalogue for 1889-00, of ■ AVabash College, contains several lithographs 'of the college buildings and of the museum. The attendance during the year was 258, divided among the classes as follows: Post graduates, 5; seniors, 33; juniors, 30; sophomores, 31; freshmen, 67; senior preparatory. 40; junior preparatory, 52. One senior has died during the year—F. 11. Boudinot, of Terre Haute, on April 1. Two trustees] have also died within the past year—Moses Fowler, of Lafayette, and Rev. J. F. Kendall. D. D., of LaPorte. —Joseph Long, aged 36 years, and a | highly respected citizen of Vernon, was j run over by a Madison passenger train, and both legs cut off. In addition he received injuries about the head, causing his death almost instantly. Long was an employe of the J., M. &I. as a section-hand and had lately become i very deaf. AA’hen discovered by the engineer he was at work in the center 01 the track. The whistle was sounded, but undeeded by Long until too late. The engine and baggage car passed 1 over him before the train could bo ] stopped. At the April election the Republican I and] Democratic candidates for Trustees ■of Clinton Township. Decatur Cou-ity, I each received the same number of votes. ; The Board of Election adjourned sine । die without casting lot to determine the I winner, as provided by statute. A suit I was begun by the Democratic candidate, ' asking a mandate against the Board rej quiring it to re-assemble and cast lots, j To tiiis a demurrer was filed, and after j exhaustive argument the court, Judge ! Study, held that mandate would lie, and j the Board will be directed to cast lots. • As this question has never been deI cided by the Supremo Court of this j State, an appeal to that court will be i taken at once. Hazel, the 5-year-old daughter of Lawrence Rhoton, near Montpelier, met ] with a frightful death. She had beei | playing in the yard where the family had been making soap, when, in some manner, her clothes caught fire. Hei grandmother's attention was attracted by her screams and, on going to the door, she saw the child in flames. She | ran to the little one and tried to smother the flames with her apron, but her efforts were of no avail. The child’s mother by this time heard her crying, ran and threw a bucket of water over her and quenched the flames. Dr. Mor--1 rison was sent for and dressed the wounds but the little sufferer only lived a few hours. —A young man, whose steam gauge registered a jag of 800 pounds, walked into Thompson’s restaurant near the North depot, at Greencastle, and informed Frank Hill, the clerk, that he was a cowboy and a very bad man when he started out to paint. He also exhibited to the astonished clerk an ugly scar on his head, which he said was a relic of a hand-to-hand encounter and terrific tableau death struggle with the great Apache ^chief, Never-Miss-a-Drink. He finally insulted some lady customers and Hill pushed him out of the door, A rattling fight took place, and when the mill ended, the cowboy had lost three teeth and received another ugly cut on the head. No one at the depot knew his name or where he hailed from. —Patents have been granted to the following I ndiana inventors: Cornelius C. Alexander, Hartford City, sliding and swinging gate; Charles Anderson, assignor to South Bend Iron AVorks, South Bend, sulky-plow; Charles Campbell, and J. Cox, AVinchester, crate; Samuel E. Harsh, assignor of one-half to J. M. Harter, AVabash, over-draw loop and buckle; AVilliam T. Hill, Indianapolis, sporting trap; Alexandei L. H. Messmer, Hammond, metallic wheel hub and vehicle wheel; AVilliam Moore, Kokomo, apparatus for separating liquids from natural gas; Clark B. Nelson, Crawfordsville, cresting for roofs; AVilliam T. Parks, Lagrange, shock compressor and binder; George M. D. Pomeroy, Lebanon, potato digger; Henry T. Poor, Indianapolis, saw; John O. Steele, Portland, harness buckle; George E. Sterling and S. T. Camden, dust collector for threshing machines and separators. —Samuel Montgomery, one of Knightsville’s oldest and best citizens, was injured by falling slate in the Peanut mine near that city, and died shortly after being taken to his home. It was the last day the mine was to run, as it was worked out. and the miners were loading up their loose coal. Mr. Montgomery was prominent in Odd Fellowship, a member of the M. E. Church, and a veteran in the late war, and exCouncilman of that place. This was the second accident at this mine in the last week.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL: SERIOUS SUBJECTS CAREFUEEY AND ably considered. A Scholarly Exposition of the Eeasuxt —Thoughts Worthy of • Calm Reflec-tion-Half an Hour’s Study of the Scriptures— Time Well Spent. The lesson for Sunday, Juno 1. mav be found in Luke 10: 25-37. intiioductoky. 1 lwro stands out. bol'oi eus in the present V‘° n ” ,lro of tho Good Saniaritan. • , n ° Ctu ? g P lcture or Christ himself, comg 10 seek and to save that which was lost. eSBOn 01 n 1111 is to be found m one °o m P a93 ion. Chi Ist comes near to men. Christ takes hold of men and lilts them up. Christ takes the burden or euro ot men upon himself. And wherever you find successful < hristian work being done it is always in such a spirit and at such a cost; ease and comfort laid aside, welliormeu plans broken or, at least, modified; a pause on the way, a hand put. out, a, snouLer put underneath, property and pU'so made subject to spii ituul demand—tuat is what it takes to save souis. God. has given you some such precious trophies, in your work of late, Christian brother. Is there one of the saved who has not been, on some one’s heart a veritable burden; lor whom good-Samaritan work has not been done ? WHAT THE LESSON SAYS, A certain lawyer. Ono learned in the CM I9 him one of the scribes. (Mark 12:28.) But a distinction seems to bo made at Luke 11:44-46. Thu term lawyer seems to be more general than that, ot scribe.-—Tempted him. Or tested. Our expression ‘to sound" would come nearer the meaning. The lawyer aimed to make trial of nim to see what he would say. Th» same word is used at Luke 4:12. ' “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thv God,” i. e. put to unlilial test. Cf. Deut. 6:16; Ex. 17:7. — Do. The emphasis seems to be on this word. By doing what snail 1 inherit eternal lite? Inherit. By right of meritorious labor. It yas a query of workru hteousness. In tue law. The book which laid down expressly the rules of a righteous life. How. 'lnis appears to boa reflection from the preceding question. How obtain eternal lite? Headest thou. A sort of ar-umen-tum ad hominem. Tue lawyer was a professional reader of the law. Thou shalt love. This is of manifested love (agapao.) With ail thy heart. Liteially and expressively, out of all thy heart. So ai»o in the particulars that follow. It refers to an enlistment ot all the energies of Htv. Heart. In New Testament Greek generally, we should say, the seat of th® intellect rather than with us of the feelings. See Matt. 13: 15. So here Soul. The life principle (psyche). With all the power of one’s personality Strength. Up to the measure of one’s moral force. Mind. Reflective power (dia-noia: to turn over in the mind). “Heart" would thus refer to apprehension: “mind” to comprehension. Thy neighbor. Literally, the near one. As thyself. As you love yourself, i. e., with a proper love. Right. The answer of the tongue better than the answer of the life This do. Ha had asked what to do. Christ lets him answer his own query Live. To do just what the law requires would be essentially eternal life. The law and the gospel are not at variance. The one tells what to do. the other how alone to do it. Willing to justify or wishing to vindicate. He sees himself defeated and his weapon turned against h’mself AVho is my neighbor? An artful but ineffectual evasion. He would excuse his conduct by narrowing his obligation-'. Answering. More accurately, taking him up (hupo-labcn). The same word used of Simon the Fhari.-ee, “I suppose" (I would venture), Luke 7: 43. Cf. Acts 2: 15. A certain man. his insignificance is a part of the argument. Never mind who. AVent down. More accurately was going down (Impe'fect) Jerusalem to Jericho. A down hill road; twenty miles Thieves. AVho could easily hide in the rocky fastn ’ssee of the way. Stripnod. Suggesting the barbarous spoliations of the day. The dress would be a part of the booty. So with Christ on the cross (Luke 23: 34.) AVounded him. Literally inflicted blows. Intimating their brutality and heartlessness. Showed mercy. Literally, did mercy. Do thou likewise. Duty enforcing doctrine. AVHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. AVhat shall 1 do? This is not like the “what must I do?" of Acts 16: 30. Nor the “what wilt thou have me to dy?”of Acts 9: 6. !lhe emphasis is different; the whole pint is other. It is not the appeal of a pmitent, the agonized cry ot one anxious to know the way of escape. Rather is it the snrewd query of one wno desired to confuse or entiap. He was taken according to his intent, and in the trap he sot lor another he himself presently found himself caught. How readest thou? Bo careful how you read. 3he matter and amount of this lawyer’s reading was beyond reproach. It was tue manner and temper of his reading that was at fault. There is a great deal of good reading in the world—a great deal and a very little. A large number of people arc leading good books; there are not so many j.ood readers. AVhat a multitude of Bible readers to-day and how lew finding therein what every man ought at once to discover—eternal lite! Here 111 this school to-day many have tlie Book open; few have opened tue heart’s door. A pertinent question to us all. “How readest thou?” Who is my neighbor? The lawyer was worsted in his first approach. Starting out on the aggressive, he has suddenly turned to be on the defensive. 'J hat is what the expression, “willing to justify himself," means. He is trying to vindicate himself, excuse his conduct, just now proven inconsistent and vain. And who is my neighbor? he retorts. Christ tells him just what he asks. His real neighbor, his companion in lack-love and unsympathy is the callous priest and heartless Levite. He has no neighborly feeling lor the Samaritan.' None whatever, so far as deeds go. for the man. who fell among thieves. He has really no neighbor other than himself. He passed by on the other side. Not exactly. The simpb Greek is he passed on by. ’ Usually wa think of the priest and Levite as coming near and then boldly and basely turning aside out "f the way—theirs a sort of outbreaking and insolent negleet. Butnot so. They did nothing more than pa s by. They came and looked! and then went right on their way without stopping or swerving. So we have all done, and very often. AVe have come up to an opportunity to d.o good. AVe have looked at it a moment, and then—why then wo passed on. And that moment we committed the sin of the Levite. To fail of charitableness or ot Christliness we need not go out of our way at all. It was only the Good Samaritan who went out of his way. Go and do. The lawyer wanted to know two things: First, what to do? and. second, where to do it? Christ answers both questions here. AVhat? AVhy, go. do just what the law you profess to study says. AVhere. to whom? AVherover and with whomsoever the opportunity offers. "Which now of these three,” Christ had just asked, "showed himself neighborly?" The lawyer answered, promptly. “Ho that showed (or, rather, didi mercy.” Quick comes the response. "Go and do thou.” The application is personal enough. Next Lesson—“ Teaching to Pray."—Luks 11: 1-13. Prof. Gunning estimates the average amount of water passing over Niagara Falls as 18,000,000 cubic feet, or 502,500 tons, per minute, of which somewhat more than two-thirds flows over the Horseshoe Falls. Did any man ever feel that he secured the sympathy he deserved when sick'? There are so many people who pray for a change of heart who ought to pray fur a change of head, 1