St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 16, Number 8, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 16 August 1890 — Page 3

THE OLD FOLKS, BY MABY F. SCHUYLER. Well, wife I’ve b^n to tho churchva-d I II own it made me si<h “ya-d. To choose the little spotof wont , , Where you and I m *; Bt h;? o™*! 0 ™*! I made no lowance for the children lor you know twould never do ’ For dainty forms like theirs to rest By such as me and you I rast Fate never was right kind to us But we raised the children well Ami gave them an education ’ Though how I can hardly tell ■ 'Twa^done by the sweaJot ou’r brows. By hard and honest toil • “You made your share wheel, ttt the spinning And 1 mine from tho soil. ■This isn’t what we reckoned on ■ We never had no fears 3 ’ But they would be the mon mm » Os our declining years 11 xet the ones we left in tii« at,,,. v Near the old home far awav >' ard ^.re far more comfort to our hearts Than those we have to-day For Johnnie he’s a lawyer now Lives in a palace grand • ' Jennie married a millionaire a land: And lommv s acity do tor And drivi s his blooded gray.You re sum he d take the old folks in bhould wo happen on his way? E en ^uuh’thoy*luve^e 0 ™* o *’ A paltry dollar no.v and tten To help the old f dks live. You say they are young and ha-my ibis much I d like to know ' Py ' ™ Wer ® you "« aud h »Ppy Did we treat our parents so; Don t turn your patient eyes on me I didn't mean to scold • ’ (Strange how a mot he. 11 shield her child W htn the fatner s heart is cold. C ®L Y ,? n thi . nk 1 tßlk too hard? Well, wall, perhaps I may I know when I get siarted 1 have too much to say; Things might have been much worse with us lor we have our house, you see ’ And another in the churchyard ’ Mith room for you and me. Eldoiudo, Kans. JANET LEE In the Shadow of the Gallows. BY DAVID LOWRY. CHAPTER XXL A TRUE LOVER. •Eight and forty hours had elapsed since Dorothea Lee aud her daughter were cast into prison, and no one came to see them. “Janet," said Dorothea Lee to her daughter, “it is the will of heaven we shall see your father no more. We are deserted by all others, and your father is kept from us.” ‘‘That can never be. ’Tis not like my father to be barred out. He would walk to Boston to free us—he would walk ten times that distance to seo us. Have patience—all will be well. My father will not sit idle while they are bringing the rope to hang us. ” Here Janet sighed deeply. Her mother looked at her lovingly, but said never a word. She knew Janet was thinking of her lover. Bad she not talked to him in her sleep. There was a voice at the door—the jailer s. He was questioning a visitor, who seemed to be irritated. “There—there —can anything be plainer than that? Why, any one might read it with half an eye. ’Tis very plain—Thomas Danforth.” Then the door was opened hastily, and Arthur Proctor entered quickly. He uttered a cry as he beheld Dorothea Lee, as well he might. She looked ten years older than when he saw her in the meet-ing-house in Salem. “Said I not we had friends, mother?” Janet asked as she gave her lover her hand, and looked on him with pride. “Where is my husband, Arthur Proctor? Why did’he not come with you?” “He did not know I was coming. Besides. I think he has that on his mind which will occupy hxm till late to-morrow. Be not concerned on John Lee’s account. He is doing all mortal can do. And I hope he will succeed. But there are other friends as well. Trust in us. “And what say the people of Salem now, Arthur Proctor?” Dorothea Lee looked at him eagerly; she hung on his answer. “There are some who do not know what to think—and many who are led like sheep that follow the bellwether. Not one has said aught of either of }ou that ought not be said in your presence. ’Tis true —the charge of murder is in the people’s mouths—and you are considered as good as given over to the evil one by the foolish ones ” , “When will we know what they ^ill do with us?” Janet looked at her lover auxi°“l1 t y wiH be ended one way or other very soon. You misapprehend me, he added ouicklv as Janet’s countenance changed, quicKij, as white, while her mother put her hand y to her heart “What T mean by one way or other is not as yon think It is a matter I mav not mention until I see you next. I will not say some one—’tis ne’ither of you—will not hang, for I know—and others know a terrible Lee tt.l she «• this hour Ave I J 1 ” fill ■Of rumors a 1 S 0 ar e SUS pected. one minted thank the men in high places keeping, there stones, to who are disposed on the peo - Stop the c .^“° ’ h e this Will end unless pie to consider whme tni been, greater care is ^splayed tn o£ There is much anger b - nt Martha Carrier. - the very foremost that the leaders-a? u jud g es Se than the people they are laed%"l have a Creyoung^. eSiX give reign to J on thau that men Dorothea Lee. * ° rison . " and women are j sa y it and to “I am mindful where x „ But lt all whom, ” Proctor am .« a0 ma n is brave eumighW raise’his voice-what

■who s tt ff 0r most ’Tic and Martha CarHe/^ *°™ en you out reproach, who aw th 8 llVe - S aro with ' do they not Seltt the W leaders are makin - i , A Y e > the Mistress Lee, that\ f ° r them selv OSi them Ts burn and stina *tuy “e "r; 1 » their responsibi'hieß nwf ulnesß of ton Mather X ' Xi 8 C °t. “O, do not gbt to «° m ad.” but that there arl't’hM^S 181 Ool ' Wrong done us u Wb ° Bee ! 110 terrible Mather who have ^' 8 V en Cotton ’IP to this f roilzv 411^ ° Ur « of the world conm i A 1 tbe cr ‘tck%rains has befalfea qIL ° J' 01 " 0 evil tha n hear him speak h s^ tO '? ay v 1 like say so much hnfr. ke can not to kn C R there L« ° World ’ ’ tis good ■weight of the w>m° W Ji° fecls the aw ful a! e doing us a 8 P 6o ^ o over us some comfort to d b n" S * Uis have promised tn U ° W that tho mnn 1 speak his mini” 18 UOt afrdd to OhuJ w 6 te dauge r~! he dau 8 er > Ja oet. peace lit . U l eh belter he ko ld his side us.” * h0 ' t 0 be Placed here beArthur Proctor laughed. place me^here^i 101 ! 0 ar ° tbos ° "ho would Sower i t h^’V^ot yet in their I did 'nn^ d . , b ® tauj0 ’ indeed, if inspires othn° ld n \ ysolf iu a manner that hSS ) ^omaybe less inelined imiku S' n‘ 18 over my head। Lot d ‘ years more match Bnt , a - voun ß man is no B onmnf f H S ra yo® ar ds! And yet, of the oldest are on my side ave und n you will soon see a turn.” 5 ' H,? r i ayG ° d it; come soon,” said Dorothea Lee, earnestly. “Amen,” answered Arthur Proctor. ‘ls there aught you will say to me?” , B boke to Dorothea Lee, but he looked at Janet. Dorothea Lee shook Qerbead. “I have naught to say.” m “You need ask me nothing,” said Janet, unless it be to do us the favor to s.iy to my father to be of stout heart, as we have been. Then Janet, placing her arms around her mother, both shed tears freely, while Arthur Proctor turned his head aside. Once more he turned, as he heard the jailer approaching. . Think, is there nothing—nothing you will trust me to keep for you? You have faith in me, surely?” “Nothing. You know I have all confidence in you, Arthur,’’said Janet Lee, sadly. “If you will not trust me ” We do. Wa could not trust human more than we both trust you,” said Janet again, as she turned and looked at her lover; “and never was woman prouder of promised husband than I am of you.” Her lover advanced, took her hand in his own, bowed over it lowly with the reverence a knight of the olden time might have displayed, then turning slowly. bade the mother and daughter a good day, prayed the Almighty would preserve them, and slowdy left them to weep again in each other's arms. CHAPTER XXII. THE WAGES OF SIN. The events of the fortnight proved profitable to the innkeeper beyond all calculation. In the first place. Daniel Meade had the sympathy of the people all along the coast from Weymouth to Gloucester, as far as the murder of his son could be carried in those slow-going days. The murder was told with bated breath by the fishermen and their wives along tho coast. People traveled from Marblehead aud Lynn to see th. place where the murder was committed. The visitors were so numerous that the Globo Inn was rarely silent now. Grizzle Meade was as brisk, aye, brisker and livelier; she had more to say than when she was ten years younger. On the other hand, the landlord of Globe Inn was gloomy and silent. The customers, seeing him standing silent, with gathered brows, and seeing his wife bustling about, nudged each other’s elbows aud whispered: “Seehowthe landlord takes it to heart.” “Aye, and see bow his wife carries it off with a light outside. ” “ ’Tis an awful thing to have a child murdered.” “Aye; but it’s worse after he has just come'home fiom the seas.” “The like was never known before.” “Aye; but there’s many a penny coming in here now. ” “A good—a fine thriving business it is. And thus the gossips ran on as they drank their favorite liquor, and told stories of murder and rapine that made them afraid to leave the mu in the dark. Meantime Grizzle Meade was rating her husband for permitting himself t~ become absent-minded before customers. “Ah! Bouse yourself! Do you not see folks’ eves on you?” “As well that as have your tongue on pie ” “I’ll keep it on till it blisters, an you don’t move about and look after the people.” „ “There’s a many people. “What ' Thou fool ! Finding fault with the gold aud silver coming into thy lap!” “I’d like some quiet. “And I want as much company as can come. ” ■ „ “Then want on, then. “Yn I do, I’ll hot let you sleep on your feet. Dost not know ’twill set their wits to work?” „ “I’d rather sleep all the time. “An you don’t have a care, you 11 sleep sooner ’and longer than you wish. Ive u 0 mind to keep your company if you i rr e , i° u h o ^ i?» •• *•» turned and looked at his wife very dehb Aye- ly so he it. I’ll not ask company; but' they may send „company with me 6p pro» uJ °. f G1 ? p ” Tnn “ared and distrusted his wife. GHz/le Meade from that hour suspected i -n An n longer drank a her thful of water that he did not bring himself He toasted his own bread. No 5 passed his Ups until his wife partoOne°Corning Grizzle Meade observed the° innkeeper Ht-ddng^ th^dre^er. He had a knite in Hq t out laid bis l» lte mind? I've an Th n e°lan°dlord o^Globe ’ Inn looked at her. , anoimh? Then mavhap iU w°ith the meat, ^^j^not answer. Still her husband did tha Grizzle’s temper,wa^ last g better of her jud^ t no other “ A “ ’?£ £ il -‘ ‘ , , 0 “. 8 ; ■will come in foroistom is plenty What is good enough to , u of tho good for us. No one “Vtiil Daniel Meade preserved silence.

But he looked steadily at Grizzle, until his wife, white with passion, strode past him, and, seizing the knife, cut a large piece of the meat aud flung it on the pan, where it sputtered and was speedily cooked. Then she sat down and ate it heartily. . Iho first tinge of color that had shown itself in Daniel Meade’s cheeks in weeks flushed his face as he turnea away, while Grizzle s glance followed him contemptuously. All that day her glance followed him scornfully. He could not meet her eyes. -i Now Grizzle Meade had proof that her husband feared her and was resolved she should not poison him if due caution could prevent it. One evening, after the last customer left the inn, Daniel Meade sat in the tap-room alone. Grizzle Meade lay awake/wondering why Daniel did not go to bed. Here of ore he was glad to be alone, aud sank into heavy sleep as soon as he was well in bed. What new fancy had he taken? Grizzle , rose quietly and stole noise.essly to the tap-room. Seeing the landlord sitting there gazing gloomily into the fire, Grizzle was suddenly seized with a trembling. Thus he sat and brooded before he prepared to kill the sailor. Was he planning her murder? Grizzle steadied herself with an effort and returned as quietly as she came. But uot to sleep. Sleep had departed from her eyelids. Never again was Grizzle Meade to enjoy the pleasure of undisturbed rest. She turned from side to side, listening for the sound of her husband’s footsteps. At last the suspense became intolerable. Aud the dread —the horrible fear that suddenly possessed her was unbearable. She rose a second time, and sat on the side of her bed, thinking. Then she opened a closet door, stood on a bench, aud reaching into the uppermost shelf, took out of the closet an Indian’s tomahawk. It was captured in the wars with the Indians. It had been exhibited long in the tap-room, then was tossed away with other useless things on the uppermost shelf in the closet. Grizzle lifted the tomahawk and placed it under tne bedtick. Then she laid down again and courted sleep in vain. Once more she rose, and stole noiselessly to the tap-room. Meantime the landlord had removed his shoes, an unusual thing. Ho always took them off at his bedside. Now he walked into the back room, and feeling his way iu the dark to the only cupboard in the liouse, reached into the lower part of it, until his hand camo in contact with a large handle. Then he closed the door softly and returned to the tap-room. The thing he carried in his hand was a sickle. It had ent much grass, and was dull and somewhat rusty. The landlord felt its edge, and sighed wearily as he placed the sickle on a chair, and turned to the wall, where a great coat was hanging. Ho took the coat from the wall and placed it ou the floor back of the door leading to the stairs. Then he wont back of the cask of wine that screened tho rum aud gin, pulled out of the corner a large bearskin, and carried it likewise back of the door where tho coat lay. He looked at the rum cask, at the gin, and the wine casks. He drew a glassful of rum and swallowed it quickly. “Mayhap 1 may sleep now.” said the landlord, as he walked again to the fire, took up tho sickle he had placed on tho chair, and was again going to the door, when he beheld his wife entering. He started back in affright. “Monster! 1 have caught <hee in the act! Wouldst murder me, too? You thought to find me sleeping." At first the landlord could not find his voice. But he gathered strength to say: “It never entered my mind." “You would lie to me, holding the thing I see in your hand. Murder is iu your heart, Daniel Meade, and iu your face." He caught her roughly as she poke, and the tomahawk fell heavily on the 'oor. He picked it up quickly and turned it over in thv light. “Now who is the murderer? Did you steal in on me to deal me a blow like the Indians strike the sleeper,? There!" He pointed to the great-coat aud bearskin. “See! I was not sure Low I might lie if I went with you. I was but going to fasten the door for security when you came in with this to brain me.” He tossed it back to her with an oath. “Take it, aud I'll keep this to defend myself with ” He pushed her out of the room and flung himself at full length on the floor, while Grizzle, trembling with fear, cowered on her bed, her hand clasping 'he Indian tomahawk that was thrust under her pillow. [to be continued.] Fortunes in Olden Days. In ancient days men not only accumulated large fortunes, but spent them royally. Croesus, who possessed sixteen or seventeen million dollars, used to say that a citizen who had npt a fortune sufficient to support an army or a legion did not deserve the title of a rich man. The philosopher Seneca had a fortune of thirteen millions. Lentulus, “the soothsayer,” had eighteen millions. The Emperor Tiberias, at his death, left one hundred and eighteen million one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, which Caligula spent iu less than six months. Ciusar, before he entered upon any office, owed five million dollars, yet he purchased the friendship of Curio for two million five hundred thousand dollars, aud that of Lucius Paulus for one million five hundred thousand dollars. He gave Servilla, the mother of Brutus, a pearl of the value of forty thousand dollars. Apicius expended in debauchery one million five hundred thousand dollars, and finding, on examination of the state of his affairs, that he had no more than two hundred thousand dollars left, he poisoned himself, because he considered that sum insufficient for his maintenance. One single dish cost yEsopus four hundred thousand dollars. Caligula spent for one supper four hundred thousand dollars, and Heliogabalus one hundred thousand dollars. The usual cost of a repast for Lucullus was one hundred thousand dollars. The fish from his ponds were sold for one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars. Scaurus’ country house was destroyed by fire, and his loss was estimated at four million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. He Was From Kentucky. Counsel for the prisoner—ls your honor please, we have shown by the evidence of the. barkeeper that on the dav this offense was committed my client drank forty seven whisky straights. Under the circumstances, therefore, my client was too far gone to know what he was doing. Prisoner (jumping to his feet) —Hold up, thare! By Gad, sab. whisky had no effect on me. I’m from Kentucky, sah!— The Law.

AFFAIRS IX INDIANA. INTERESTING ITEMS GATHERED FROM VARIOUS SOURCES. What Our Neighbors Arc Doing—Matters of General and Local Interest—Mar- । t riages and Deaths—Accidents and Crimes —Personal Pointers. A Rattle with a lilacksnake. .B. M. Baldwin, an estimable citizen of Martinsville, was out fishing a day or [ tivo ago with some friends from Indianapolis. He was walking along the water’s edge, in quest of a better place to fish, when he had to pass under the overhanging boughs of a buckeye tree. When under these he felt something drop on bis shoulder. Thinking it a dead limb he passed on through tho tall horseweeds. Nor did he notice that the "dead limb'’ was a real live blacksnake until it began to tighten its coil about his arm and swish its tail angrily about his face, and hiss. Dropping his minnow-pail and : other paraphernalia, ho endeavored to throw the reptile off, but without success. It brought a second coil about his neck, and he was beginning to wheeze for breath before lie thought of a heavy clasp-knife he had luckily brought with him. With his disengaged right hand he succeeded in getting the. knife open, and amputated his snakeship a few inches back of the ears. Not a moment too soon, however, for tho snako had already bitten him three times on tho hand, and Baldwin was getting weak. The autopsy heli! by Baldwin and his Indianapolis friends disclosed that the snake stood six foot four in his stockings, and measured nine inches around the waist. The bite of a bhieksnake not being very poisonous, Elien sustained no further injury than a severe scare aud a slightly sore hand. Minor State items. —The fifth reunion of the Second ’ Indiana Cavalry will beheld at Brazil on j the 17th and ISth of September. —The Fifth annual reunion of the | Fffty-ninth Regiment, Indiana Volun-i teers, will be held at Martinsville, Thurs- | day, Sept. IS. Exurn Cox. an aged farmer living, near Armiesburg, while crossing the C. A I. C. track - at Leatherwood was struck by an an engine and killed. - .lame-' Briggs, an employe of the Brazil rolling-mill, had his arm caught in tho large shears, mangling it terribly. He came near bleeding to death before a physician arrived. —lames Morrison was cutting down a tree near Marco, when a large dead limb fell on him, killing him instantly. Ex- » that his hear, had been smashed to a J pulp. - Ed Campbell, a workman at the ; glassworks building at Hartford City, > fell from the wall, a distance of twenty- ' five feet, alighting on his head and ' shoulders. He was picked up for dead, but recovered and is al! right. It was a ■ frightful fall, and a remarkable escape, j \t Crawfordsvillo, buiularn. by using I a pole and reaching in at open window*. ? secured the pantaloons of several slum-; bering men, ami. after securing th<‘ i money in the garments, threw them I away. Frank Nuekols lost <s. an( [ found ' his pants on the sidewalk in front of his I house, George Schlemmer found his suit of clothes in the school-house yard, and his watch and 75 cents gone. While Elliott Palmer was threshing oats near Rushville, a spark from the engine set (ire to a wagon-load of oats. The horses became unmanageable, and ran off, running the fiery load into a straw-stack, tiring that and the thresher. The horses were badly scorched, as were. Elliott I’almer and John Cassidy in trying to unhitch the team from the burning lot. A large lot of hay also caught fire and burned. Total loss, about. 51,500. —Steps are being taken to bring suit in the United States Court against the receiver of the Crawfordsville AVaterworks Company on account of an alleged failure of the company to keep a sufficient supply and pressure of water in i case of fires. Crabbs & Reynolds want 1 53,000, being their loss, above insurance received, in the burning of their elevator, and the insurance companies xvant 54,000 on account of the burning of Martin’s ice-house. —A little town is to be at once started on James AV. Ball's farm, on the southern extension of the C., AV. & M. Railroad, about half way between Carthage and Rushville. By a contract with the railroad officials they get a long side-track and a neat depot. They xvill endeavor to establish a postoffice and a big general store, and other branches of business will be established. The station is to be called Henderson, after Mrs. Ida (Ball) Henderson, sister of Mrs. Ball, who is lie originator of the project. —Alf C. Mayo, an Indianapolis traveling man, was ejected from a Lake Erie and Western train seven miles north of New Castle, for refusing to pay the 10 cents extra demanded of passengers who have no tickets, by a late rule of the company. Mr. Mayo is a large man, and it took the conductor, brakeman, baggageman, and engineer just twentytwo minutes to remove him from the car. He has employed able legal coun- j sei, and will sue the company for §IO,OOO damages. —Bert, the 8-year-old son of Adam Bowers, living north of Brazil, fell from an apple tree, breaking his arm and receiving injuries that may prove fatal. —The mail route from Crawfordsville to Alamo is to be changed. Heretofore it has been by railroad to Troutman’s ■Station, thence to Yountsville, from where it was forwarded to Alamo. The Alamo people objected to their mail coinng through the Yountsville pOstoffice^v md now it is to be sent by a hack Ipj cc direct betxveen the first-named point/

—A small boy named Smith was killed at Cordonia. Ho was playing with a number of childrondn the road when a loose horse passed by. Wheeling quickly, when the party was reached, the horse kicked at the Smith boy, striking at the back of the head, breaking his neck and I causing instant death. —Edinburg is experiencing a steady, substantial boom in real estate and business interests. Dots lye in demand an<^ ( streets are being extenoed % Every dwelling house is occupied and there is । urgent demand for more. In the near future there will be erected twenty-five dwelling houses. Tho building boom is extending south and east. The Cabinet Company, lately organized there, after refusing very flattering inducements from neighboring cities, has purchased ground and will immediately erect a three-story brick building, 50 by 120 feet. This company will employ at least 120 mon. —David Logan, sr., of Fairfield, seized a sharp ax and attempted to chop off hL ■ left hand. He succeeded in breaking the bonesand severing the tendons,making it necessary for tho member to be amputated. As he is nearly ninety-four year of age, he will probably not survive the operation. Ho was one among the earliest settlers of the Whitewater Valley, and has accumulated considerable property, but for some weeks has fancied that he was coming to want and expressed a desire not to live longer, and a close watch has been kept upon his actions, his relatives being fearful that he would attempt suicide. —An old German farmer named Herman Ruhi, who has occupied a small farmin the vicinity of Bloomingdale, a suburb of Fort Wayne, died recently in horrible agony. Some time ago deceased was driving his horse, when the animal coughed and blew saliva in the face of its driver. Last week Ruhi's face became literally incrusted with small । pimples, and those spread over his body : until eventually it became a mass of j sores. Mi cal science was of no avail. ■ Dr. Jansen, a local physician, says that ; death was due to blood poisoning, caused I by the obnoxious matter from the horse | becoming absorbed into tho man's system. It is supposed that the animal was I suffering from glanders. A sensation was caused in Fort Wayne by the unearthing of about four hundred pounds of silver that had been melted in bars eight inches long, throe inches wide and an inch thick. The treasure wits found buried three feet below the surface of the ground by workingmen engaged in excavating a cellar. The bars were compactly placed together, and about them were dark lines, indicating the remains of a box iu which they had been deposited. Air. I Schroe b r has owned the property forty years, and at the time he came into posj session of it an old ! >g house occupied the spot where the treasure was dis- ■ eox< red. There is not enable theory of when or by whom the silver was buried. I'he accidental finding of the very excellent mineral springs, some six in number, no doubt w ill urovo a very valu- , uUlo .Hiwvrr, to Brownsburg. They ; yield an inexhaustible supply of pure ' spring water, possessing marked mediei inal properties highly beneficial in the i treatment of diseases due to a rheumatic > tendency or a depressed vital condition of the system. The springs are located in the ravine adjacent to town on tho south, amid beautiful surroundings, where the natural surface of the country is one of romantic landscapes and scenic beauty. A movement is already started to organize a stock company for the purpose of leasing the grounds and building a incuical lake park, with sanitarium and hotel, with all the conveniences of a model resort. —While some workmen were engaged in grading a new street through East Warsaw, a large number of human bones were found eighteen inches below the surface. The clay in the vicinity of the bones xvas burned as hard as brick, and every indication pointed to the fact that a human body had been cremated at the ! spot. It is said that many years ago an ; aged.man who resided in that locality, and who was - reported to have untold wealth concealed abo.it his house, mysteriously disappeared, and all efforts to find him proved futile. The discovery of the. bones alluded to is regarded as a partial solution to the mystery. It is thought by some that the old man was murdered for his money, his body burned and hurriedly covered up by the murderers. The matter will be investigated. —Conductor Lew Stinson, of the Evansville & Indianapolis Railroad, while en route to Evansville on the regular passenger train, espied the body of a man lying near the track a few miles south of Washington. He stopped the train and picked the body up. It was cold and stiff, and had evidently been dead for some hours. Examination of the body revealed three terrible gashes in tho head, one in the back of tho head, one over the right ear, and one in the forehead, 'all of which appeared as if caused by blows with an ax or hatchr The body was identified as that of Tl- - Lowrey, one of the wealf 408 ^ : and most prominent farmers of v tVless Countv, who xvas about 60 year 0 a ® e ’ ! He leaves a large family. opinion that he was murdered 1 lls 0 placed beside the traejr ~ T 1 T7, /who resides eight —Airs. John Fulfo'.., ~ •1 M rxi ^ville, gave birth to miles south ot M^ owitliout a a tabo a row d^ |ght |icalthj . " and I. 1 ! I'2 /".Cl? long as Its brothers bids fair tm„+ t * ^at were more fortunate. and sist(g /albot Paving Company, of De- ~ L ' as awarded the improvement of . “'O/Aigton street, Hartford City. The Wt is to be paved with cedar blocks will cost §37,000 exclusive of side- ' ralks. The entire improvement will < ost about §50,000. ‘

HIE SUNDAY SCHOOL THOUGHTS WORTHY OF CALM REFLECTION. A Pleasant, Interesting, and Instructive Lesson and Whore It May Bo found—A Learned and C<?ucisr es til® Same. The ’(sgOn for Sunday, August 17, may be i JOTiml In Luke 17; 11-19. m INTHODUCTOJW. We have iii f hls jesson an intimation of how widespread the fame of Jesus hud become. Even tho outcast lepers knew him and spoke of him. But, of more interest still to us, they spoke to him. In the Scripture before us we find our Saviour’s feet stayed by the cry of the “unclean.” Thank God for that! Indeed, it was for that he came, for that he journeyed in this particular direction, and but for the condescending compassionate spirit here displayed xve would have no part In him. Jesus is passing down through leprous coasts to-day in the teaching of this lesson. Shall not some smitten souls call out to him? Alas, if we do not! We are still in our sins. WHAT THE LESSON SAYS. It came to pass. Introducing another incident of thut wonderful journey toward the city on tho hill. As he went. Or in the going. Christ’s going was attended with circumstances peculiar to the mission he was accomplishing. Passed through. He was passing through. Imperfect tense. It was a golden moment of opportunity. The midst of Samaria, and Galilee. Some have thought this to refer to the border land between tho two countries. See Margin. Or possibly it but suggests tho interior In contrast witli the farther coasts. Ashe entered. Participial construction. Certain village. Numerous little towns were scattered along tho way. Met him. A man is known by the thing which he meets by tho way. Other caravans could scarcely be described as meeting these lepers. Standing afar off. Ten lepers. In sad profusion in that clime and, especially, in that day. Afar off. They were not allowed to come near. (Lev. 13: 46.) Lifted up their voices. As from a distance. One hundred’paces, usually. They dared not com© nigh, as they were, but they dared cast a prayer. So may xve. Jesus, Master. Signifying something of homage, but not full fealty, as their subsequent. conduct proves. Have mercy on us. Or pity us. The personal preference. An appeal never fruitless with Christ. When he saw them. He saw deeper into their need than other men would.——Go. Just the resting of his gracious eyes upon I them was enough. Show yourselves to I the priests. 'Die same as saying, you are healed. Seo Lev. 14: 2. As they went. Or in the going. Their obedience was doubtless a necessary condition of the cleansing. Cleansed. The signs of health gradually making themselves manifest. When lie saw. The changed color of his hands would be one visible symptom of recovery. Turned back. Probably xvhile -till in sight, going later for tho ceremonial iblution which would require some time. Lev, 14:4-9, Glorified God. Equivalent to praising God. Doxology is from this word. XV HAT THE LESSON TEACHES There met him ten men that xvero lepers. It was a bit. of interruption, something perhaps of detention on the way. No matter. That way to Jerusalem that Jesus was treading was full of such considerate stoppages. Indeed, ho took such a course that he might meet the souls that needed help. Christ went, everywhere doing good—that was his errand to tho world. Now let the disciple do the same. We are byre soy ser- w vice, put here for a purpose. But O, how foolishly dull we are at times. “No, no,” I cried ilie Indy in the sudden shower, “I’ve kept that umbrella clean and new all these years, and I'm not going to have you take it out now into all this wet!” Perhaps we have been no less slow to employ tho charities and graces God has given us for use. How many opportunities have \ve met carelessly? How many mute appeals passed by unnoticed? God forgive us. Jesus, Master, have mercy upon us. The village edge Ilf's the cry still. The city and the country lace, too. still re-echo the old appeal. Men want mercy. How can we help them? Well, manifestly, xve must first lie helped ourselves. He only can give aid to others, in morcy’u name, who has experienced that grace himself. We do well to cry out first for ourselves, “Jesus, Master, have mercy upon us.” Then shall we be able to speak of mercy to others. It is Matthew Henry, is it not? who says, “If you wish to land a fish you must stand in the pl. ice xvhere you xvish to land it and not in the place where the fish is.” And does he not also say (we are doubtless but quoting the substance), “If you want to lift a soul out of the pit you must first get a good footing out of the pit yourself.” Only a Christian teacher can properly Interpret this lesson. IPe only can tell of mercy who has felt it. With a loud voice. Well, certainly, xve ought to speak witli as loud a voice for God as we have been using against Him. Men who have bawled their blasphemy through twenty or thirty years ought to make their testimony alter conversion in a x'oice that can be heard, fit least, three seats back. And yet sometime our very silence under pressure is a loud-voiced confession. The converted fruit merchant did not intend to make an open confession of religion xvhen lie shut his lips from cursing over the bad lot of oranges received. But the boys xvho had been accustomed to hear him swear under such provocation kn< v that he turned Christian. "Bless the Lord!” said the converted blacksmith when his horse kicked. That took the place of the old oath. Depend upon it, if the xvork of grace is a thorough one, it xvill find expression. Let it -yeak out loud and strong. AV ere u> Pr o not ten cleansed? There is a personal application. Too often xve give God but a partial ^cognition. We glorify him with but one puvH on of our whole selves.- It may be that tho Sabbath day is given to him, but what of th« six days of the week? Possibly wo praise him with tho voice of prayer and song, but how about tho work of the hands, the xvays «ur feet “•o. Not simply the heart should retain and do homage; the mind and body of the whole nature should be prostrate before him who has cleansed and redeemed. The daily life should praise him. Said the converted sewing-girl, “T. -re's many a time, when I’ve been pressed and hurried, that I’ve sent home seaws scarcely fastened, so they’d be sure to rip; but, please God, since I’ve been coxverted my seams will never rip again.” Returned to the glory of God. It was more tkan ingratitude. It indicated but a, partly work of grace. Their bodies xvere heapffi slut we have little reason to suppose their souls were else than in the bonds o r iniquity. Not so the stranger, the lone -amaritan. His return indicated a heart touched, a spirit made readv to receive the ineffably larger blessing of salvation from sin. “Let me be Christian,” says one, “without coming out into public profession.” But there is no concealed fealtv, no secret Christianity, worthy of the name. “As well,” urges Pentecost, “for the rose to say, ‘Let me be a rose, xvithout burstin"’ into leaf and flower.’ ” Are you givln° God the glory? The heavens declare it; the firmament showeth; why not you? Next Lesson—“ Prevailing Prayer.” Luke 18: 1-14.

The woodpecker has a three-barbed tongue like a Fijian’s spear, with which it draws out the worm which it has excited by its tupping. The clam feeds with a siphon, and the oyster with its beard. The tapeworm' has neither mouth nor stomach, but just lies along sind absorbs the already digested food through its skin. If you were indeed my friend you would wish me a quiet fortune, not an exalted one.— Annie Dickinson, in “Anne Boleyn.”