St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 18, Number 21, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 10 December 1892 — Page 7

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CHAPTER V. disaster! “What will Haymond think?—what Will Haymond say? ’ That was the burden of * anxious Edna Deane’s heart, as the carriage that conveyed her from her school life into a new and unknown existence sped across the country. Opposite to her sat her grim companion,, motionless, erect, forbidding. Respect without severity had attended his every movement since leaving Hopedale, but he persiste 1 in that weird, oppressive silence that chilled, almost alarmed the warm, childish heart of Edna. She had comforted herself with the resolve to write to Marshall as soon as she reached her new home, ana had then ventured to address her somber ■companion. “Won’t you please tell me something about my father —the place I am going to?” she spoke in accents of tremulous pleading. The man hesitated. Then, with evi■dent reluctance, he said: "You are going to your father—the father who loves you, who will make your life one of joy, wealth, and happi- ® ess. ” “But, why all this mystery?” j His brow clouded. “He will tell you. Believe me, it is for the best. He has been under a ■cloud for years; his life has been neany wrecked by the wickedness of others. Go to him with a free, fearless heart, willing to forget all the world save him, and add something of joy to his last days. ” Edna chilled at the gruesome hint that the words contained. Forget all the world save her father? Did that include Raymond? What coull the dark mystery be? Her •companion’s lips were sealed on the theme after they hal reached the train. He provided her with every ■comfort in the drawing-room section -secured for her, and left her to her •thoughts, telling her that they would not Leave the train until after daylight. Then a swift spin across the country, confused sleep, and morning, struggling in the embrace of a blinding snowstorm, the cars passing through a bleak, ■unfamiliar section. - Toward evening they alighted at a littbTT^^T^lt wgs stj|] snoring, -and, her in the cheerless depot, her companion vent to the stores about the place, returning with a frowning, ^anxious face. “I am sorry,” he said; “but can you ■stand a short walk in the storm?” “1 am not afraid of the storm; I rather ■enjoy it,” responded Edna, cheerily. “Are we near—home?” ■‘Yes; that is, we cross two miles to ■another railroad. Then a brief ride, and your journey is ended. I cannot obtain a single vehicle to drive us over, and the train is due in two hours.” They started forth. Edna was brave and disdainful of the snow at first. I ut clogged fvotsteps, an occasional deep drift and blinding flakes soon made her breath come quicker, and her companion was compelled to aid her with the help •of his arm. They had got past the limits of the town now. Edna shuddered at the ’Cheerlessness of the twilight-darkening landscape. “We have not got far to go now,” encouraged her companion. “Th : s must be the bridge we cross. Courage, my child! Only half a mile more, and ’’ “Oh! come back! come back! Look! That sign!’’ Edna, following in the footsteps of her guide, who now went in advance to ' clear a path for her more dainty feet, had noticed the dashing torrent of ‘ water below the frail bridge spanning | it, and, half-obliterated by the snow, a I rudely painted sign nailed to one of the I bridge supports. “What is it?’’ spoke her guide, halfI way across the bridge. “There is a sign. ‘Danger! ’ Mercy! ” A wild, frantic scream completed the sentence. Appalled, Edna Deane shrunk back at a spectacle that froze her heart with terror. At her very word, her companion, taking a step to one side, disappeared. The i warning of danger had come too late. ; Through some snow-covered hole in the [unstable bridge structure he went. i Splash! With strained eyes the agonlized girl saw his body strike the foamI ing water torrent. There was a cry for help, sho saw his ■ white face appear once, twice, in the ■ turbulent flcod, and then—the mighty ■ stream dashed on, leaving her alone, ■ unprotected, in Ihe weird arms of the f storm and the nig'ht. Alone, sick at heart, hopeless, she continued to stare vaguely at the circling eddies that had engulfed her ■one protector in the world. Alone on that dreary landscape, Edna Deane realized that she was penniless, homeless, hundreds of miles from friends, and the mystery of her life a mystery still. CHAPTER VI. DOST . “Hear that—look there!” One of two men bound villagewards ■uttered the words in a startled, excited gasp, just as the unfortunate man who had been Edna Deane’s companion and guide gave expression to his cry for aid. They had just passed the somberfaced 'man and his girlish companion etruggling through the snow, and, supposing they were| bent down the river Shore instead of across the unsafe bridge, had passed on without uttering a warning. Now coming to the river path beyond a clump of trees, that wild cry had reached the ears of the younger of the twain. “Help! help!” Looking quickly back and down the stream, he caught a glimpse of a form struggling in the wild waters of the torrent.

! They were strangers!” he ejaculated. | “The bridge! They've tried to cross it, and have fallen through ” It took them ten minutes fully to retrace their steps, running around the bluffy timber stretch. They reached the bridge. Horror-eyed, appalled, they stared blankly at the trodden snow and the gaping hole, through whi h the darkling waters showed twenty feet below. “He went down—l saw him in the water,” muttered one of the men. “But the other?" “What other?” “The gri.’ “Ah, yes! I forgot. There was a girl with him. Jem, they’re gone! Man and woman both, sure as fate!” They glanced far down the river banks. They even lined the stream for some distance, but found no trace of the supposed victims of a terrible mistake. Thus it was that rumpr, speculation and horror were rife at the little railroad settlement that evening, when the two men returned thither and told their tragic story. This man remembered seeing the two ! arrive on the late afternoon train—that i one described the gaunt, solemn-faced stranger seeking a conveyance to take ; them across country. A party was ■ made up to make search for some trace [ of the bodies of the unfortunates, but, ! after lining the bleak shores of the river ! for hours, they returned bootless from their task at midnight, the swirling waters and increasing storm bidding fair to sweep away or cover up forever- j more the identity of the man and the girl who had seemingly mot death at the bridge. As the reader knows, Edna Deane’s guide alone had sunk through the broken 1 planking. Edna herself, frozen with horror, had remained for a moment । chilled to helplessness by the sudden I disaster. Then, frantic with terror, i vaguely hoping to reach some habitation and summon its denizens to at- | tempt the rescue of her guide, she ' dashed blindly from the scene. Thiough the heavy snow she ran, the i darkening landscape' showing a distant ■ light. Towards it she bent her steps, I lost it as a copse intervened, struggled 1 on again, crossed a gully, reached a ' rise in the ground, and .then leaned I against a tree, panting for breath, and । staring wild-eyed and alarmed all about ; her. Her bedraggled dress, soaked shoes, ] chilled frame and anguished heart drove । every sense to vivid suffering. With a ! moan of distress she realized that her j companion was past earthly help, that the river had swept him away. The instinct of self-preservation, the fright of the moment dulled her memory of that terrible scene at the bridge; for utter loneliness and desolation spread before | her; not a habitation, human being or light showed. She might have been a thousand miles from civilization for all its evidences that existed in her immediate proximity. “Oh! where shall I go—which way shall I turn? lam lost!” Her tones were hollow, the utterance despairing, affrighted. Nurtured amid delicate care, scarcely clothed to endure the rigors of such exposure, she felt that her strength and her will were fast deserting her. She tried to summon all her fortitude and calmness. She decided that the ; town they had left an hour previous must lie beyond a level waste bounded 1 on its farther edge with a ridge of trees [ and bushes. In that direction she ■ started. Knee-deep in a drift, swaying like a ■ reed in the wind, she wavered, fairly | in the center of the vast meadow. Snow was all about her—earth and air seemed full of it. It dazzled her j vision, it penetrated sleeve and hood, । it choked and blinded her. A fearful night, truly! The noise of j the rising tempest rang out like the waves of angry sea. The storm had flapped out the baleful light of moon and stars. In the strength of a mighty glee, the wind raved and roared, sweep- 1 ing the drifting snow about her like a shroud. “I—can —go—no —further!” With a moan that was a prayer, the delicate girl sank down. Her strength had given out completely. The snow came thicker, the winds blew faster, the ghastly white stretch before her j began to be flecked with fire, as her overstrained nerves drove tho feverblood from heart to brain. “Oh! the rest—the quiet!” she murmured, as she closed her eyes in that fatal delight which cold and exhaustion bring, to lure the deluded victim to the last long sleep. “Raymond —Bea' rice—father! good-night,— good night!” A rare, ecstatic' smile stole over her face. The suffering of life was merging into the delirium of dreamland. She had lain down to die —so young, so fair, so little realizing how near death grazed her bonny heart! “Oh! let me rest; I am so weary!” A rough contact, a blast of warm breath sweeping her face roused the benumbed girl to look up. Then, with a frantic scream, she struggled to her feet and stood tremblingly staring at an intruder, the shock happily dissipating the lethargy that benumbed her senses, and bringing her a realization anew of the perils that menaced her. The hideous form that her uncertain vision had exaggerated into some terrible creaton of her fancy, brushed close against her, its rough head swept her hands and face, thrilling them to a sense of feeling with the animal warmth of its rough caress. A great homely faced horse, lost or strayed from home, like a puzzled ■wanderer over the black expanse, seeking shelter, the animal had saved her lite. “I was going to sleep!” panted Edna, with an affrighted shudder, “Oh! I must struggle on, for Raymond’s sake. Heaven help and guide me, I cannot die here alone!” She grasped the horse’s mape as the animal neighed uneasily. Clinging to it she walked —was dragged along. The patient horse plodded forward. They reached a road. Minutes seemed an hour. Edna was conscious of relaxing her hold on her dumb guide from sheer weakness, of sinking helpless to the j ground.

Was that a light shining near—gratefully near? She tried to cry out, bull her utterance seemed choked and hollow, and its faint echo died in her own throat. • Surely, there was a house before her! ; —an open shed, too, beneath which the horse stood panting, but safe from the storm. • । If she would only drag herself there! But it was not to be. Exhausted na- | ture could endure no more. She closed her eyes with a moan of utter weariness and despair. Again j her senses glided into that fatal dream- 1 land of unreality. The snow seemed destined to finish a dark night’s work by burying Edna Deane and the mys- I tery of her fair young life beneath its mantle alike. Ghostly fell the snow! Fiercer rose the wild winds, more weird became the clogged, misshapen landscape; darker grew the night. The dainty form was outlined, first in a royal robe of ermine, then a little mound showed, then a greater one, and thenonly a bleak, level expanse—the wanderer completely obliterated, as if a part of the great spreading meadow it« self. And ghostly fell the snow! CHAPTER VIL TOO latte! Raymond Marshall had swept from the presence of Beatrice Mercer with the joy of a man suddenly snatched from the darkest depths of grief and despair. In a flash had come a full realization of the true status of affairs. He had been grossly deceived — his bright, bonny Edna was not faithless! The ! letters he had received were forgeries, and the plotful Beatrice Mercer, inspired by love and jealousy, had I wrought all the misery so happily avert- ; ed by his accidental discovery of her i duplicity. “I will find her ' I search the world ■ over!” he had avowed ardently, buoyant, exultant in his faith regained and the power of a love able to battle tho i most subtle foe. । With calmness, however, while his overpowering love sustained him fully, Raymond Marshall realized that he was ! at a terrible disadvantage, in the dark, j ■ with not a single clew as to the motive of Edna Deane’s strange disappear- i ance or her possible whereabouts. A second visit to Miss Chandler, the | ; lady principal of the seminary, resulted ■ in the acquirement of very litth addi- ■ tional information. Edna’s father had sent a trusted ' friend or servant to take her home. He 1 had made it an express request that the t location of that home, the mystery of j Edna’s life, her true name should not ■ be made known. Edna must abandon : all her old friends. A new life opened i for her of wealth and comfort, but api parently weighted down, or at least I affected, by some dread mystery that i involved the utmost secrecy. Reasoning all this out, Raymond Marj shall- decided that he could do but i little except to await developments. His ' anxiety for Edna’s welfare, however, ! his impetuous, impatient spirit, drove him to endeavor to learn what course Edna’s mysterious companion had taken | in so swiitly spiriting her away to her i friends. He traced the carriage to the ! railroad town fifteen miles distant, buc | there the trail ended. Distance or d,ir<a''ftort taken by the fugittve there be'-^ came involve 1 points of speculation. For a week he'hung around Hopedale. His painting was neglected. His father : was involved in deep business diflicV.l- ; ties, which at any other time would I have commanded his attention, but just now he could think of nothing but Edna. j He grew moody and taciturn, anxious I and then alarme 1. No letter arrived j from Edna. He haunted the woods, ! spots endears I to him by their past I meetings, but his anxious heart drove । him to distraction as the fear grew ■ ! upon him that his love was lost to him, [ : that either the mandate of a stern ; I father or the plots of the siren-hearted ' j Beatrice were operating to rob him of I the bonny bride to whom his troth was I plighted. What did this girl know? Evidently ! everything there was to know. With | subtle craftiness she had woven her soft wiles about the innocent and trust- . I ful Edna, until the latter had made of ! 1 her a bosom friend—an exclusive con- । j fldante. She had tacitly acknowledged I 1 to Marshall that she knew where Edna : । had gone, but boldly, angrily, she had j refused to tell him what he wished to ’ ■ know. Fully comprehending the girl’s ; । resolute nature, Marshall gloomily de- 1 ! cided that if she alone held the fate of | his ever again meeting his loved and lost one that event would never trans- I pire. Wrought up to a maddening pitch of | frenzy by the uncertainty and suspense ! of the hour, as well as by a sense of [ - deep wrong and injustice, one evening | Haymond Marshall went straight to the ■ seminary. “Beatrice Mercer shall tell me all she ■ knows,” he uttered fiercely. “I will I plead, I will frighten her, but her secret ; ' shall be mine!” The crowning surprise and disaster I alike of the culminating troubles of the j hour was announced at the very portals ' of the seminary. Miss Mercer was gone! Blankly and dolefully Miss Chandler imparted the I bewildering information. i Gone? When —where? Beatrice Mercer, poor, friendless, dependent entirely on Miss Chandler’s bounty and the J meager means that her position as subteacher awarded her, gone? Abandoning a position which seemed to be a life-lease for her? Yes, she had made the sudden announcement that morning. Thoroughly amazing her friends, she had packed up, demanding her salary, and had left without a word of explanation concern- ’ ing either her motives in resigning her ' position or her future intentions. | To the dumfounded and suspenseful I Raymond Marshall this seemed the last j and most cruel blow of fate. His final [ reliance was swept away. He felt asI sured that Beatrice Mercer knew of the , whereabouts of Edna. Now, she, too, had disappeared—there was not a clue in sight! Would she join Edna in her new home, and by forgery and misrepresenI tation wreck her faith in her lover, and ■ ! work out her plots of jealousy find revenge? Oppressed by this torturing thought, Raymond Marshall left Hopedale that night on a blind, hopeless quest for 1 some trace of the woman he loved and the woman he drehded. 1 Too late! The woman whose cruel ; hand was twisting his heart-strings with । torture, because in her wild, erratic way she loved him, had twenty-four i hours’ start in a plot so subtle and bold ; । that his spirit would have quailed had • I he even so much as guessed its sinister s motives! I [TO BE CONTIXVaa j

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. THOUGHTS WORTHY OF CALM REFLECTION. A Pleasant, Interesting, and Instructive I Lesson and Where It May Be found—A Learned and Concise lieview of the ; Sams. The Apes’o.ic Council. The lesson for Sunday, Dec. 11, may be found in Acts 15: 12-29. INTRODUCTORY. Here is the account of a model church meeting. First, the difficulty or difference is hono-tly stated in open church meeting, as when we read at v. 5 that the Fharisaic Christians rose up and declared their mind on the question of circumcish n. Second, various churches with their -pastors, the apostles of course being present (v. 6), meet With the Jerusalem church to consider the matter. Third, the discussion is frank and generous and thorough. It is not clamorous, as the word disputing at v. 7 (properly rendered inquiry) might seem to imply. The question is stated, the Scripture is doubtless quoted and its apparent disregard • alleged. Then Peter speaks, and is given a respectful hearing. Saul and Barnatas come next, tho multitude (it was not a synod of elders) keeping orderly and attentive silence. Finally James of great repute am ng tho early disciples and justly so, ghes his judgment (krino) not “sentence.” The ultimate dis ussion is reached when at last “it pleased the apostles and elders with th > whole church, to send chosen men to Anti ch, bearing this instrument as the conclusion of the council, ratified by the local church, namely (omitting the preamble): That ye absta'n from meals offered to idols, and from blood, and from things strangled and from fornication; from which, if ye keep yourselves, ye shall do well. Fare ye well.” Wise counsel, just and sensible restrictions. The motion made by James has carried. God has brought his people safely out of another threatening Egyptian bondage, and the kingdom of C) rist, like a promised land, lies fair and open before them. WHAT THE DESSON SAYS. Simeon, or Simon Peter. The Hebrew name is here used, it being a Jewish company. Declared or recounted, narrated, same word as declared in v. 12, above. At the first. Rather, first. Peter was speaking of God’s first presentation of the gospel to Gentiles in the household of Cornelius. Visit. Greek, to look upon, or, as we say in familiar conversation, look in upon. A peop e for his name, or, to his name, i. e., } lanted on his name. The word take may be rendered receive. To this agree the word of the prophets. The verb is that from which comes our word symphony (sound together), literally, symphonize. My sentence is. Not necessarily. My judgment, or personal decision rather. Greek: (krino) I judge, I decide. It was not James but the whole assembly, we gather, who settled this question. Or, we may say, separate churches on their recommendation. Turned to God. The term frequently translated converted. Acts 3: 19; John 12: -10.

Abstain. LiieraTry tp keep their dTstave. The best way to abstain. xhc« please l it. Or, it seemed good. Probably put to vote. —With the whole church. The ultimate seat of authority being the local church. —Chosen. Literally, chosen out. Another sign of distinct church action. WHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. Then all the multitude kept silent. A brilliant burst of silence, an effective 1 selah passage in the midst of the conj troversy. “Stop and think.” When we ! are ail ready for that we are well on ' our way toward full unanimity and the . “one accord” of which v. 25 so happily 1 speaks. There had been no uproar or unseemly contention here. But doubtless there were deep convictions stirred on either side, and the positions had been stated, we may judge, with straightness and strength. But now Peter has uttered himself in quiet, teni der words. That last reference of his ■to the gentle “grace of our Lord Jesus I Christ” is enough. Then ensues a kind of reverent silence. And here occurs i what perhaps would have been difficult before: Paul and Barnabas rise to

j speak their ndnd. The Heavenly Father i is in the midst. I will set it up. Christ is in the worl I i to set up that ^'hich is fallen down. ; Humanity is like a temple in ruins, 1 spoiled and dismantled by sin. Jesus I Christ restores the lost str< ngth an I । | beauty. We are thinking just now of 1 that poor, infirm woman in the synagogue, all bent and bowe l together, a i broken temple indeed. “And he laid his hands upon her and immediately she was made straight and glorified God.” Christ is here to straighten out that which is crooked. He wants it to glorify God, and it can best do that by standing I jup straight. Are you and I ready to be | ; straightened out, to be setup? Perhaps J ■ some further bondage and breakage is i ' needful before the straightening and j ; edifying process can begin. Are we j ready for it? Lord, make me. But to ■ that end unmake, break me. In any I event, let God be glorified in these ! bodies and spirits which are his. It seemed good to the Holy Ghost, J and to us. A blessed partnership, the . ■ Holy Ghost and the believer. Now I ■ ' understand the wonderful tactfulness 1 of the message, and withal its tender- ; ness; some other than the human hand- ! and mind is here. God is in it. It is .an inspired communication. Os such I is all the Biblical record and revelation. । It seemed good to the spirit and to man. ' The two were united in it; it was human and divine; humanly divine, divinely ! human. And though this may be said , in a peculiar and exclusive way of the i writer of the sacred oracles, it has also । an application to every humble Christian of to-day who takes those oracles as i lamp and light. Such a guidance of the I Spirit is granted us in the ordinary affairs of life that we may believe that, I with the prayerful, Bible-taught soul, j what is “good to the Holy Spirit” shall bo revealed to us also as “good.” And ' so we shall be led by the Spirit. The World’s Happenings. Houses are insured against burg- ’ lary. Kingston, N. Y., has a highwayman but 12 years old. ' Du MAubier, the London artist, is blind in one eye. . | The Chinese paper currency is rod, ■ : white, and yellow. ! The Emperor of China has begun the ■ ctudy of arithmetic. | Nearly two hundred kinds of the I things called toadstools are at least edible. i

JOLIET’S BAD FAILURE. Duped Depositors Talk of Criminal Prose* ' cutions. The condition of the collapsed bank and the Enterprise Company, at Joliet, 111., looks more serious as the days go by. Everything in sight has been attached. The transfer of the property of the Fishes subjects them to bitter reproach. All the transfers will be contested in the courts. The trouble began by a run being ing made ou the Stone City 1 ank, a private institution operated by Henry Fish & Sens. Before the doors were opened a large crowd collected, and no sooner did the hour for opening arrive than a i feverish crowd pushed to the teller’s window and had their no'es, checks, certificates and books turned into cash. The rush grew rather than diminished with the flight of time, and the fact that all comers got their money without a murmur did not deter the others in the i crowd, who stood stolidly waiting their 1 tuin. By 9:30 a. m. $50,000 had been paid out. It was evident that the payment could not last much longer, so orders were issued to the teller to pay out no more money. The crowd was dismissed with the assurance that the bank would pay depositors every dollar and the doors were closed to the public, while the bankers, with their attorneys, got their heads together to see how affairs stood and what would be best to do under the circumstances. George M. Fish, Treasurer of the bank, said: “We owed depositors about $z50,000. We paid out over $50,000, and now owe our depositors about $175,000, and have taken everj- possible measure to protect them. We have taken possession of the manufactured stock of the Joliet Enterprise Company, which is worth $250,000, and I am sure our assets are thus amply sufficient to pay all depositors. We have let go of the entire business by turning everything over to Chauncey J. Blair, of Chicago, as trustee, and thus the rights of all parties will be secured.” The Joliet Enterprise Company is a total failure. The liabilities are over $500,000, while the assets are valued at about the same figures. The Ciri uit Court and Recorder’s offices were busy all day with filing of papers and recording of deeds that pertaine 1 to the trouble. The citizens are greatly excited. Never before was excitement known to be at such a high pitch. Tho business houses in all parts of the city did but little business, and men left their work in the mills, factories, farms, and stores to inquire about the deposits they had left at the Stone City Bank. POPULISTS AHEAD IN KANSAS. Maj arity of One In the Legislature on Joint Ballot. The Kansas Canvassing Board has completed the official count. The canvass progressed without excitement until the t : e for member of the lower house from Coffey County was reached. The statute provides that in a case of a tie the board shall determine by lot who is elected. Attorney General Ives, the only Populist member of the board, claimed that the statute was unconstitutional, and that it was the duty of the board to decide that ■ o election had been made and that the Governor should call a special election. All of

tke other members of tho board insisted that the provision of tho statute should be carried out and the Attorney General withdrew, declining to be a party to an act that he considered unconstitutional. The remaining members of loard. Republicans, proceeded to s ,'ttle the tie by drawing lots, and tho Republican candidate was successful. In Haskell County Joseph Rosenthal, a Democrat, was elected by a majority of 156, but the County Clerk in certifying to the returns gave Rosenthal’s vote to W. A. Stubbs, the Republican, “through an error. ” As the board had no authority to go bohin 1 the returns Stubbs was declared elected. When the report from Haskell County was read the Populists and Democrats who were watching the count failed to notice the error, and Stubb? certificate ; was made out and mailed him. The certificates as issued give the Republicans in the House 64, Populists 58; Democrats 2, Independent 1. In the Senate the Populists have 25, Republicans 15. On the face of the certificates the Populists have a majority of 1 on joint ballot.

BOLD OUTLAW CAUGHT. Ellsworth Wyatt, a Kansas Desperado, Captured Near Cory, Ind. Ellsworth Wyatt, one of the famous Dalton gang of Kansas, was captured at j the home of his uncie, in the little town ! of Cory, about fifteen miles south of ’ Terre Haute, Ind., by a detachment of six officers, including Sheriff Hixon of Guthrie, Oklahoma; Sheriff Stout of Vigo County, and a posse of the Terre Haute police force. Wyatt sustained his reputation as a dangerous character by attempting to shoot Patrolman Smith, who was the first to enter the house where he was stopping. Tne policeman was too quick for him, and forced him to throw j down his weapon and throw up his j hands. The prisoner is wanted in Kan- | sas for murder, and there is a standing reward of $1,200 offered for his arrest. He is also wanted in Oklahoma to answer to nine different indictments for various charges, such as shooting with intent to kill, carrying concealed weap- ’ ons, etc. CLEVELAND GETS CALIFORNIA, i The Official Canvass Shows a Democratic Majority of 371. The canvass of the official returns of the vote for Harrison and Cleveland has been completed in San Francisco, and the result shows the largest vote cast for Eepublican Presidential elector, 24,416, as against 31,012 for the highest Democratic elector. The Democratic elector receiving the smallest number of votes has a plurality over the highest Republican elector of 6,504. The average of votes for electors in San Francisco County shows a plurality for the Democratic ticket of 6,603. The average plurali y for Republican electors outside of San Francisco is 6,422, giving the Democrats a plurality in the entire State of 271. Minor Mention. The Republican plurality in Minnesota is 22,157. A consignment of 5,040 canary birds has arrived at New York from Germany. A 4- year-old girl of S. L. Leverton, of Birmingham, N. Y., tipped a plate of hot soup over her, and sho was scalded to death. In applying for Statehood New Mexico will ask that tie bill be amended so that Spanish shall be taught in th* public schools.

| HERE’S ALL THE NEWS TO DE FOUND IN THE STATE OF INDIANA. Giving it Detailed Account of the Numerous Crimes, Casualties, Fires, Suicides* Deaths, Etc., Etc. Adjutant General's R port. Adjutant General Ruckie has filed his report with the Governor. The total expenditures for his department for the fiscal year ending in IS9I was §36,850.12, ■ and for 1892, the appropriation being 525.000 instead of §37,000. the expenditures were 524.922.08. The Government aid to Indiana for 1891 was 513,821.45, and for 1892, §13,074. Armv supplies were drawn from the Government, and the cost charged asainst this account. j Gen. Ruckle reports forty-four organizations in the State’s military service. These are divided into lour regiments. New companies, as yet on probation, have been organized at Auburn, Anderson, Kokomo, Washington, Evansville, Wabash, Jeffersonville, and Indianapolis. Seven companies serve their three years of enlistment, and were reorganized and mustered in. Seven companies were disbanded. The report refers to the new uniforms provided at the government's expense, and calls attention to the need of overcoats, of which the 1,800 men have only one hundred. Attention is also called to the adoption of the new tactics; necessitating a more thorough system of instruction. The infantrv, it is said, is armed with guns of 45 caliber, of the breech loading Springfield pattern, purchased at intervals since 1873. They are declared not up to the standard. No new arms have been drawn, because of the expected change by the United States War Department, reducing the caliber of the guns to thirty. Gen. Ruckle declares the artillery service poorly equipped, and the field pieces as much out of date as the obsolete muzzle-loaders. Minor State Items. The Crawfordsville Daily Star has suspended publication. Elwood will probably have two new factories in the near future. Jack Owen of Kokomo, fell from a cart and was dragged to death. A wild deer is roaming in the woods in Delaware County, near Daleville. James W. Anderson, the richest man in Rush County, died in Rushville of consumption. Jerre Thomas, aged 45, of Muncie, was thrown from his buggy and he died from the injuries. At No. 4 mine, near Washington, Leonard Redmaster's life was crushed out by falling slate. Elwood attorneys want another court in that city and another judicial district carved out of the county. The big gas fight between the two Kokomo companies has finally been declared off and a uniform scale of prices settled upon. The Terre Haute police confiscated the entire bundle of a Chicago sensational paper on the grounds that it was obscene literature. -1

Ole Olson, a Norwegian resident of La Porte County, was run over and instantly killed by a Lake Shore engine, in the La Porte yards. Henry Hock, a fireman on a P., Ft. W. & C. freight, is in a Fort Wayne hospital from serious injuries received by falling from a bridge. At Hobart, Lars Jensen, an employe of the Garden City Brick Company, was crushed to death by the caving in of a clay pile in the yards. John A. Garvey, a bright young newspaper man of Fort Wayne, on the staff of the Daily News, was run over and killed by a freight train. What will undoubte lly be the largest window glass factory in the United ' States has been located in Alexandria. The plant will be in operation by July. Terre Haute is to have a new and commodious friendly inn, with a work roam for women attached. The building will be erected by the charity societies of the cities. Peter Kaylor and Charles Thompson, two employes of the gas company at

Fort Wayne, are in a dangerous condition, having been overcome by inhaling gas while repairing a leak. The Crawfordsville City Council has passed an ordinance requiring every | plumber in town to give a bond of SI,OOO, I to guarantee the faithful performance of his work in laying gas pipes. Ex-Treasurer Peter Ragle of Martin County, who sued the county for 53,000 alleged to have been paid by him when he turned over the office to his successor, got judgment for 8485. S. T. Gaston at Columbus, has filed suit for 81,000 damages against the ■Western Union Telegraph Company for failure to deliver a message announcing | the demise of his father in Kansas. ! Valparaiso has an overcoat thief who | seems to re succeeding wonderfully in ; his art. He has nearly cleaned out the town. Uis last victim was an editor, who will have to remain in bed if a cold spell comes along. Mrs. Jane Burke of Huntington, got a verdict of SBSO at 'Vabash against the city of Huntington for injuries received by a fall on a sidewalk in that city. The ’ suit was for $5,000, and a change of j venue taken. Charles Hammond of Monarch, Monroe County, has begun suit at Bloomington, for $25,000 damages against George Clark and Eliza Clark, whom he charges with slandering him and sending him white-cap letters. The financial report of the Indiana Institute for the Blind has been filed with the Governor. It shows that of the $33,000 appropriated by the Legislature, $30,244.15 was expended. Th > receipts from the industrial school's shop were $2,755.35; from the greenhouse, 573.78, and from the clothing aci count, $316.61. Os the appropriation of 1 $2,470 to the industrial school, $814.46 j remained at the close of the year. While barn-raising on Benefiel’s farm, ' north of Pendleton, a large timber fell, I catching Albert Price, a young carpenter of Middletown, wedging him between I two large sills, and crushing his breast, j Uis injuries are internal and so serious he cannot live. George Pauling's son, Warren, 12 । years old, jumped on a fast freight train at Wabash, and fell off under the wheels. His right leg was cut off just belew the hip and it is probable that he will not live. This accident may also cause the death of Mrs. Pauling, whose health is in no condition to withstand the shock caused by this accident.