St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 18, Number 39, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 15 April 1893 — Page 2

In Shesps CloFhing.

oy §oaNe Bee Lod o z‘ g ol I!d é‘\ ¢ . 91 o gh . T ‘é\\\;%;:, i.k'. ™ l\%(l\u ; i . , Ser 20 o W c < oo\ A7 "‘ ¥, V}\\‘l\ o /;J (\.5,,. : = (—" % ”?\/ l\\” s et %;’;& ,j&’f&(‘\\ é;_{")";: e :‘. ¢£—~_ig; AR SR e T e ———— S : C,alb T Ormond SFEQIQ CHAPTER XIV—-Continued, After this long anl apparently saiisJactory conversation be:ween Captaln Fox and his lleutenant, they went on deck, where they found the rudder in good working order, ard the men lounging about the hot decks, while the offlcers smoked, and wondered among themselves what this conduct on the part of “the skipper” meant. The men and officers of tho Wanderer had so much confidence in the foresight and daring of their leader, that they but seldom talked among themselves as to the nature of any move that Fox did not explain in advance. Lo far, he had done by them exactly ‘as he had promised, aad they had every reason to helleve that their good luck, and the captain’s gcod managemont, would continue for many a day to come. ‘ There was not a man c¢n the ship, from Don, the cabin boy, to the captain, ! with the one excepticn of Ralph Den- f ham, now ilcapable of reasoning, that ever -thought that the Wanderer was | bound for New York when she left Sag | Harbor. | The men did not know where they | were going, nor did they particularly | care, so that they were on the move with some object to gain, or, in lieu of | that, of danger in view, } With the exception of Frenauld, the | officers were nearly as coarse and brutal-looking as the men, but they fully appreciated the value of good conduct on shore, and of silence, or reticence, when those qualities weie ! found necessary, to hide the defects of | their early training. ! - Three times, during the afternoon, | Fox and Frenauld visited the little | gem of a cabin in which Ralph Denham | lay, still unconscious. } Once they administered to him a | small glass of wine, with a few drops of | the green, sweet, soporific drug in it, | and one drop of a colorless fluid which | Frenauld declared was sufficient to de- | stroy the will-power of a giant for | fcur-and-twenty hours. | A few hours after dark the captain’s | gig was lowered, and into it got Fren- | auld and three men, all carrying their | arms and considerable bundies, | The rowers and the officer in com-‘, mand followed, the hooks were slipped ! out, and, at a low command from the ! officer in the stern sheets, the oars dropped into pliace, caught the water | like one blade, and the gig sped away | for the cliffs, beneath which a fire had been burning for some time. ‘ Frenauld and his men landed near the fire, where they found an old Indian, sent there by Uncas, awaiting them. The 2'g returned at once to the ship, anchor was weighel, and the \Va.nderor’ stoo | out to sea, but she did not sail in | the direction of the port of New York. | Frenauld did not at all relish the mission on which he was sent, but he care ; in obelience to an order that he could | not disobey if he would. When de- | livered, this order met his warm appro- | val, for he had greatfaith in his captain, whose unapproachably brilliant talents as a villain won his esteem, and at times | excite ! his envy. But when Frenauld, | gitting by the shore, taw through the dariness, like a vanishing star, the ship’s lights dropping down the horizon's rim, his spirits also fell. Biddin ; the sailors spread their biankets and go to sleep. Frenauld lit a igar, and handing the old Indian another, he invited him to draw up to | thie fire. ‘ The Indian could not speak very good English; but as he succeceded in making himself clearly understood, we shall ot attempt to reproduce his dlalect, or rather his broken speech. Lighting his cigar, the Indian, who gsaid his name was “oOld Somonk,” squatte{ on his haunches, and across the little fire, whose flickering flamnes threw unequal lights on their faces, they stared at each other. “Uncas sent you here,” s&id Frenauld, mote {for the sake of talking than with any hope of getting desirable informa- | tion. . “Ugh, Uncas,” replied Old Somonk, | and he se>med to blow the words with | a jet of smoke irom his puckered lips | in the direction of the young officer. |

“Uncas is a great chief.” I “Ugh; Uncas big sachem,” grunted old Scmonk. “Got a wife!” “No; no wife.” “Why doesn’t a fine-looking man like Uncas get a wife?” | “Don’t know; mebbe don’t want one.” | | ‘Ah, like enough. Strange that that hadn’t struck me as a possible reason | before,” said Frenauld, taking an un- | nsually long pull at his cigar, and com- " ing to the conciusion that Old Somonk \ was not as much of a fool after all. “When is Uncas to come here?” asked ! Frenauld, looking up at the black sky | as he asked the question, as if it were | quite possible for the answer to come | from that quarter. “One sun more, to-morrow.” “What are we to do in the mrantime?” | Old Somonk slightly elevated his | shoulders, but his face gave not the | slichtest sign of interest as he grunted: | “Don’t know.” ‘ “That is very consoling. Os course | you know the country hereabouts very well?” ! “Born here,” was -the reply, with a | preliminary grunt. | “Looks as if he might have been born betore there was any such place as this,” sail Frenauld, sotto voce; then aloud, “you are going to remain with us antil Uncas comes.” “1? no, no,” said Old Somonk, with decided emphasis. “The old Harry! then how long will you stay?” “When young Somonk, my ‘son, be gome, then I go home to squaw.” “And so this old mummy, with a skin like a pump tongue, has got a wife and a son. The squaws imitate their white sisters in having strange tastes,” muttered Frenaulid; then aloud, “and your

son will remain with us until Uncas comes?” “Don’t know.” “For a man of your years your information Is about as limited as that of any one I ever met—-" ‘ “You give my son paper you get from chief big canoe; my eon, young | Somonk, he take paper to Uncas, Paper talk. Uncas he come. Then make ready for him—Ralph Den’m.” | “I see a glimmer of truth has flashed | upon yonur mist eanveloped understandIng.” Old Semonk did not understand this, but he ¢learly comprehended when Frenauld added: “Uncas does not like! Ralph Denham.” : “Oh, no—no.” “Why?” “Wy! ’cause he love wite squaw; daughter med'eino man Hedges. “Tersely and clearly stated. Os course a'l the Indians like their chief?” “Oh, yes.” ‘ “Do whatever he says?” “Oh, yes, mebbe.” “Some doubt about that, eh? Well, Mr. Old Somonk, one more question; can we sleep here without wateh; is it | safe?” “Safe?” “I so usked.” | “It is safe a!l time in land of Montauk | for friend of Montauk.” , | “From which I am to infer that it | would be anything but safe for the foes of the Montauks to intrude here. Well, I am a warm friend of the Montauks.” “Oh, yes,” from _oOld Somonk, with something like rarcasm in the tones, ’though his sphinx-like face looked as | impassive as ever. Satisiied that it was | | sate to lie down, and confldent that he i | could not continue the conversation { with Old Somonk, with any chance of | f getting information or learning that in | | which he was interested, Frenauld | | spread a blanket on the ground, and | | went to sleep. | He did not wake up tiil daylight, and | the first object that met his eyes was ' Old Somonk seated In the sawe place | and in the same position, the only | change noticeable al out him being that | | he was now smoking a corn-cob pipe | | instead of a cigar. f [ With that aptitude which distin- | Eguishes alike the trained soldier and | seaman, the three sailors from the | Wanderer set ahout getting breakfast | | for themselves and the Lieutenant. ! 01d Somonk, with a degree of curios- [ ity that is not generally thought to dis- | | tinguish his race, watched these opera- | { tions till the meal was ready, wh-rn.i | without being invited, he came over and | | began helping himself, in the coolest | f possitle way. | [ At first this caused the Lieu‘enant { and his men much merriment, but wholly | | indifferent to their laughter Old Somonk | paid the strictest possible attention to | the business on hand. And as he i threatened to devour all the cooked | food, if the others did not hurry up, all i pitched in in self-defense, and ate with a speed that emulated but could not | equal that of the Indian. i During the day Fernauid and his | men made an examination of the coast, | in which work they were facilitated by | the use of a canoe, which Old Somonk drew out from a cavern, made in the rocks by the long-continued action of wind and waves. | Fernauld carefully took note of the. | bearings of this cave, which had a small | /cntrance that could easily Lo closed up, | { while the inside space was ampie to ‘, hold all the wealth of silver, goid, anl precious stones that had ever been float- ' ed on the sea. | Back from the beach there were scattering groves set, as if by the hand of a landscape gardener who studied the ways of nature, and undulating lawns or meadows in which pastured the herds of the Montauks, In the afternoon they followed the example of Old Somonk, and lay down in the shade, where, the sea breeze fanning their faces, they soon sank U sleep. They would have slept on into the night had they not been aroused by the talking of two men, One was Old Somonk and the o'her his son. Before Fernauld could say a word, Old Somonk said, pointing to the Indan youth, with whom he had been talking: “This is my son, young Somonk. He comes from Uncas; you talk.” And having uttered these words with astonishing rapidity, he turned to the west and ran with a speed that was wonderful for him, and wcald have been remarkable even in his son “Your venerable sire,” =said Frenauld, looking after the flying Montauk, “is the most eccentric gentleman, white or red, | that it has ever been my !‘!'i'\'li!':._:t.‘ to | encounter.” | With much dignity the young Indian { cut him short by 'saying: | I have come from my chief, Uncas | of the Montauks.” ;

“Ah, so I suppoesed, and——" x “Have you a message, a paper for | me?” broke in Somonk. | “I have; but are you not manifesting | undue haste?” | For reply Somonk extended his hand, | and kept it so until Frenauld had de- | posited therein the expected paper. Then, to the unutterable amazement | of the sailors, Somonk clozad his hand on the paper and darted off with a speed that promised soon to place him far in advance of his fugitive father. { . “Well, may Satan fly away with me, | i? they are not the most extraordinary | sire and scion that ever crossed my | course! I wonder if the old woman has | the same restlessness on foot and pla- | cidity—sitting down?” | ‘ The sailors answered this with a loud ! i laugh, and at once began preparations | for supper. | | Though affecting great lightness of | manner, Frenauld was not at all satisi fied with the situation, | “What if the Montauk chief did not | keep his part of the contract? What, if % the Wanderer were lost, or sank, or by | any other chance did not return, was to | become of Frenauld and his three comi panions? { He thought these questions over and { over, even while he was eating his supi per, and he had not reached a satisfae- | tory answer, when he heard the snap- | ping of a dry twig near by, and looking | up, he saw before him the towering | form of the Montauk chief. i The appearance of Uncas, though not { unexpected, was =o sudden as to startle | Frenauld and set his heart to beating 5 faster. | Afterthe usual salutations had passed, | the chief accepted Frenauld’s invitation i to join bhim at supper, and while they [ were eating, he said:

| *“l'would have seen 0 befors hut ‘that T met the old white Spgre’ut Gfls&gm." 5 at, hasn’t he gone - %a W York?” asked the ast%nlshe}c)j“-c “No; he has been sick.” T 8 .And where is he now?” “He is in'my lodge?” . : “Your lodge?” ey “Yes, in my house with hia wiac servant.” % i ¢ b}“k j “In the name of all that is not ggered, how did he come to get there?” | “He wanted change, expressedia wish to know more about the fiont B and I, as thelr chief, became his guide » said Uncas, with much dignity. i “But his presence will ruln oyr lans.” “I cannot see how tha’ will be " “Simply this, that Col. Graham supposes that Ralph Den am is now at the bottom;oef the sea, as he deserves to he were itnot-that Capt. Fox, wm}f} our | great, true friend, and knows how much you dislike your rival, wanted te leave him in your hands for a certat ‘time, when, a cording to the azreem nt, vou would be free to do as you pleased with him,” said Frenauld. 8 “I know all that,” replied th chief, “and you can have but little faith in my wisdom if you think I told Col. Graham anyihing of my plans, nor have I told any one e se, excepting young Somenk and his father.” “Ah, that was the very sublignity of prudence,” said Frenauld, smiling and rubbing his hands, then ask m‘; pleased way: “Have you th . the place where you are tod »LW ham?” " T e 1 have” 7 e “Do you object jo telling?” &% “No; it is in a cavern downie 4+ © by ! the shore, a place of which ¥ Iy all our people have a great dread.™ As this spot ha‘l been appropriated in Frenauld’s mind for another purpose, | he asked, hurriedly: | “Couldn’t you get another place away | from the water—it is dangerous {o have ‘ a sailor near the water, if you are at all | anxicus to keep him.” g [ could; there is even a betier hiding | place in the hills, but even Ido not (are to go there in the dark.” I “What is it like*"” asked Frenauld. | “It is the burial place of our chiefs, | repiled Uncas, i TO BE CONTINUED | ! Curing the Rheamatism. !' “Talk atout sick men in a hotel,” said | Ed Frey, a veteran hotel eclerk, who is f stopping &t the Southern. “Let me teil J you of an experience we had with a fel- | low not loag azo. He came to the house | all right, but he took a heavy cold, and | it seemed to go into a scrt of rheuma- | tism and settled in his shoulders. The poor fellow suffered awfully, and | couldn't lift his hands to save his life. He sent for a doctor, and, of course, got a prescription which didn't do him a particle of good. One of the Lell ?---\\_‘ heard that witch-hazel was a gool thing, and, seeing a bottle of it in one of the rooms, brought it in 1o th: sick man, The fellow was glad enough to try anything, and the bell bey rubbed him with it manfu ly. Abouttwo hours after the rubbing the sick man feit the thing begin to burn, and word soon came to the ofiice that he felt as if he { were all afire. T wen: up and found | him in awful pain. 1 asked him the cause of it, and he poeinted to the witchhazel bottle, I looked at it and found that it was an old bottle filled with furniture polish., There was *a state ,“! things. Finally the feilow, in his pain, commenced to jump about the roomn, and as he did 85 he would thperaliiie) AL LS Abt kAt e WEE i}‘fi"&l. time the burning stopped an 7 atisi was Koo, PN s blisters to take care of, but hé was so glad to get the use of his arms that he never made a Kick. Funny cure, wasn't it?"—Bt, Lou's Globe-Democrat.

A Pigeon with a1 Memory. . It seems really impossible to extinguish the homing instinet in a good pigeon. A woenderful story is told by a pigeon fancying journal of a Freanch carrier pigeon which was captured by the German soldiers during the siege of Paris in 1870, The bird was being carried in a balloon irom Paris 1o some point in the country whence it was expected to return to Paris with a message. It was taken t» the Gernan headquarters and presented to the commander, Prince Frederick Charles, who sent it to his nother in Germany. Here it was placed in a splendid roomy avairy and caraefully fed and nourished; but although it was kept here, living in the lap of royal luxury for four years, the French pigeon did not forget its fatherland, At the end of that time the aviary was left open one day. The pigeon flew out, mounted high in the air, tiew about for a moment, as if to find the points of the compa-=s, and started in a straight line for Paris. Two days afterward it beat its wings against the entrance to its old loft in the Boulevard de Clichy. There it was recognized, and its case being brought to public attention it was honored as a. patriot returned from foreign captivity. It remained at the Paris Jardin d’Aecclimatation until it died in 1878. A Child’s Version. The idea presented to a child’s mind by a word wiich he thinks he understands, though its meaning has never been expiained ttlo hm;i'lt,‘i!? often quite i rthing which ¢ digtion“*‘The wind Floweth whazre s b eth,” ” read the Sunday-Sghool T CHREEEEC to her elass of little girls. “#oa any es you knew what ‘listeth’ means Th‘o; E_'h'llll'l'cn, with one e €otion, shook theiz heads, The exceplih wag an S-year-old, tlaxen-haired S oy alter a moment’s reflection saidis’ erly “Iknow!” > “You may tell us, then,” S ko teacher, encouragingly. | “I'm afraid,” said the little} . dubious tone, “that I can’t 3 mha rest of them understand, tcz haven’t any grandpas in thefies they same as I have. But there’s ntf-v’ strip on the bottom of front dofes>y > & country that grandpa told me WReE- thf’ and if you could just feel the wWing LSt: in under that door once,” said Ji@ > in a tone of convietion, addrefiin child ‘rest of the eclass, “you'd knf® the that verse meant in a minute!"§ what E Good for Them. : . There are now living withinggk .. of ten miles of Ashiand, M@ adius - American women who are theh eight - of 102 children, eighty of whor{} hl{ar’sl | ing in the enjoyment of goof & ;‘- - and sound minds. et | Friar CONECTE was ace ? . - the close of his sermons to t£*% t:fi' - and go through his congreg’ Sl .. | tering to pieces any headsel ¥ ®that | came under his displeasure. :B¢ der, ffllfl it G Y 20y

3 Last in the Bush, 1 Mr. Robert Crawford, describing his life as a civil engineer in the wilds of Canada, devotes one chapter to his experiences in going astray in the *‘Bush.” With two companions | he was plodding through a part of vhe forest quite new to them, in the ,flusk' of a late autumn evening. Many streams had to be crossed, and more than once all hands were totally immersed. Worse than all, darkness was rapidly falling. At last, wet, tired, and hungry. they were obliged to confess that they were lost, and more than that, in a cedar swamp with the water nearly up to their knees. They had no firearms, their matches were wet and worthless, and as they sat upon the trunk of a fallen tree and talked the situation over, they agreed that they had only one chance of rescue. 1f they could make themselves heard at some settler's clearing they would be saved. Otherwise they were lost. They agreed to take turns in using their lungs to the utmost, with an oceasional blending of all three voices Lo vary the effect. For some time they screamed in vain. Then at last they beard, an answer. Yes, their cries were certainly answered, but not in away to encourage them. The answer was the howling of wolves, a sound to make the blood curdle in their veins. They ceased their shouts. It would be better to freeze than to be eaten by wolves. DBut just then the sound j reached them again. It scemed to jbe changed. Faint and far-off as it 1 was, it sounded like the barking of a { dog. Hope revived, and the three men, with many _.umbles and falls, , pushed through the woods in the direction of the sound ‘ Then they stopped and combined t their strength inone loud call. Baek | came the dog'stark. This time there ’ was no doubt about it, and arain the i men pushed on.

Listening and traveling alternately, they cmerged from the cedar swamp at last, and saw a light in the distance. They made for it at once, i and found them-elves at a loz hut, the ounly occupants of which were a i woman and two young children. The woman had heard the shoutsl of the men, and not being able to an- | swer loudly enough herself, had set,i the dog barking. At the same time she had put the kettle on to boil, so] that within five minutes after the! men reached the hut they were drink- | ing hot cotfee and drying themselves before a blazing fire. *ln many wanderings in distant lands,” says Mr. Crawford, “l have seen different phases of life from the ! greatest luxury to the most abject poverty and hardsh'p, but never did 1 see a brighter fire or drink a cup of better cuffee than on that occasion in a tackwoods shanty. Not even coffee that [ bave tasted in the Sultan's palace at Constantinople, served in the most delicate porcelain on golden trays, could equal it.” I There was presented to a French médical society some time ago a cur- } iotis case, which came to be called the stereotype wom:in. | The skin oi this woman became ! red at the least contact. 1 It a pencil or a duil point was passed over the skin, the lines or wuras traced were at once seen to ap- | pear in relief with surprising distinctNEss, | Autographism was the name given to this phenomenon, but it has been called also graphic urticaria, desmography, etc. If we take a blunt style, or a sharppointed pencil, and inscribe upon the shoulders, breast, arms, or thighs of such a subiject, a word, name, or figure, by moving the instrunient lightly over all the points of the word or inscriptioh that we wish to produce, we shali almnst instantly observe a redness to appear upon the line that the instrument has passad BYer. This diffused redness constitutes the first phase of the phenomencn. Two minutes later, thzletter or inscription begins to appear under the form of a rosv-white outline of amuch paler tint than the skin which surrounds it on all sides. Do not leave the patient, but watch the different phases of the experiment, and you wili see the in. scription repeat itself before your eyes; you will see it extend, rapidly enlarge, take on a more prominent relief, rounded at the summit, and attain the size of a goose-quill applied to the skin. When the phenomenon has reached its complete developnient, and the re- | fioure was de ed assumes exactly the appearance of a stereotype plate, whence the name of ‘‘sterectype - woman” bestowed upop the first subJect. 2 This relief is visible from a distance of from thirty to sixty feet, and. according to the subject, lasts from a few minutes toseveral hours. It is a transitory phenomenon, in the sense that, in a few hours, the skin will have assumed its usual appzarance. Quail Are Easily Tamed. Peter LLandin has been in the habit of throwing out feed near his house for a tlock of quail during the winter. When the late storm commenced he put the feed under 2 box up against the house. The quail took shelter under the box when Mr. Landin took them into his house, where they en}joyed the warmth to the full. One ‘remained in the liouse for several idays, refusing to go out and join the ‘ others till the storm was over. These quail are special pets of Mr. Landin, and woe be unto the person that molests them. He pets them so they will clean the thistles from his farm. —DPcrt Stanley (Ont.) Graphic. ‘

END OF THE BIG STRIKE_ | — | WORLD’S FAIR EMPLOYES REI TURN TO WORK. ' Fully Four Thousand Men Representing | Twenty.siv Trades Were Concerned—Soma | Non-Union Men Attacked Becauss of Their Position. Work Is Resumed. ! Twelve hours saw the beginning and the peaceful ending of a strike at the - World’s Fair that involved all union workmen within the ga‘es, to the number of four thousand or more, and imperiled the successful cpening of the ‘Exposition. The settlement satisfied ' the laborers and the Exposition authorities and was effected in a conference ' that lasted npearly all day, with sho:t intervals for consultation on bLoth sides. - By its terms the union men gain a minimum rate of wages, are allowed f'passes for their delegates, with the privilege of entering the grounds and i talking with their tradesmen at any i time. The Exposition gains its con. | tention that no diserimination should i be made as between wmion and non- ' union labor,. | In obe'lence to the order of the Buildi ing Trades Council, 4,000 union me- | chanics empioyed at the World’'s Fair ! grounds quit work—or rather failed to | g 0 to work—at 8 o’clock Monday morn{ing. The trades represented were the %(-arpnntwrs, rainters, ornamental ironworkers, hodcarriers, tin and sheet liro:)n-worlmre), cornice-workers, stoamfitters. gasfitters,. electrical workers, ’tfle workers, mosaic-workers, lathers, { gas and electrical fixture-hangers, cel ment-finishers, Ires: -painters, hoist,'inf.: engineers, marble-cutters, g avelfroofers and other smaller trades. At él9 o’clock 1,500 electrical workers, ! joined the strikers. The brickiavers, ' stonecutters, and plasterers were not inf volved. ‘

For some time there was no violence and the men corfined themseives to growling and to making stump speeches at whkich they were liston:d to by small crowds of workmen. At 8 o’clock half a dozen declegates entcred the grounds and started to make a tcur of the buildings. During the trip their numbers were increased until there was a long procession of the men. The leaders, fearing that the men might get into mischief, ordered them to disperse. This orler was shown to be a wise one, as a few minutes later several cos the strikers met some men who had recently b en forced to join the union. These men were at work and the strikers ordered them to quit. They refused and a emall fight was started. Some Columbian Guards came to the rescue and drove the strikers away. When this was reported to Mr. Burnham he gave prompt orders that all delegates found interfering with the workmen or trying to induee them to auit work should be put off the grounds. This order was promptly put in force, and the patrol wagon was kept busy. It also prevented any trouble in the grounds. The men claimed that the council of administration of the World's Fair had broken faith with the allied trades upen the arbitration question. .

GIGANTIC FRAUDS UNEARTHED The Minnesota S nate Springs Another Sensation on the Country. . e e e sale and taxation of Mimeeo—ooo | lands, has presented its report. It is |'the most s=ensationa! report ever made |by a legislative committee and all | based on sworn testimony. Frauds ' and conspiracies most gigantic and sari reaching are said to have been un- | earthed. It is claimed that the State ' has been defrauded, direetly and indii rectly, out of hundreds of thousands of t dollars, and many persons hitherio : above suspicion are said to be involved i and besmirched by the committee’s i findings. One instance is a case where the timber on a piece of school land, [ostimated by the best judges to have i been worth $7,525, was sold for a paltry iSl'i.“;. Some of the best pine land of {the State is said to have been | falsely certified as swamp land and then patented to the railroads, and iby them to the parties back of the | deal. Innumerabie cases of false ; homestead entries, soldiers’ pre-emp- ! tions ,and Indian allotments, all made i on powers of attorney by men of straw i in the interests of the corporations, are ‘said to have been disclosed. Vast { tracts of land and vast quantities of i standing and cut pine are said to have ! escaped the tax rolls, and one interest- | ing point is that there are miles of raili road in the woods used for other pur- ! poses than for transporting logs alone, iwhich are not mentioned by the as- | sessor, and which are not reached as | personal property, nor do they pay any | gross earnings tax. The law which is ‘dcsigncd to prevent corporations from i acquiring more than 5,000 acres of land is said to be a dead letter in the pine regions. The report says it is hardly possible to calculate the sums the State and State institutions have lost in the alleged pine-land manipulations, nor 1s it possible that any considerable pertion of it can be recovered. | ' IS READY TO ADJOURN. Senate Takes Steps to Bring th 53! Vi lli . cis of the Senate believe that President Cieveland has made all the appointments he desires confirmed at { the present session, and the Senate i Monday took steps toward adjournment. ! The Senate agreed to a rescolution ofl sered by Mr. Harris, of Tennessee, for { the appointment of a committee to wait i upon the President and inform him that { unless he has some further communica- | tion to make, the Senate is ready to ad- ' journ without delay. A motion to reconsider was subsequently made by Mr, Hoar, of Massachusetts, and was entered. SECRETARY CARLISLE has issued an order modifying the Chinese registration act. TUnder this Chinamen neec not be photographed, and but one wit- | ness is required. l THE usual proclamation prohibitine | the taking of seals or other fur-bearing | animals in Alaska or in Behring Sea in | the season of 1893 has been promul- | gated by President Cleveland. { Miss EpitH DAY has returned tc Portland, Ore., over the Southern Pa- , cific, having completed her 10,000-mile railroad journey through the Unitec States and Mexico in 17 days 14} hours. WiLniaM CraiGc cut his throat at Cincinnati while in a somnambulistic state.

Will Raise Peacocks. ' A Barton County, Missouri, man, {s ~going to ralse peacocks for profit. He says owners of large mansions with spacious lawns want them for the msthetic air they give to the general tout ensemble, while the long tail feathers are handy ir fly time. s e e e e “AN excellent remedy,” is what Mr. W.. H. Ames, 712 South 17th street, st. Louis, Mo., says of it, in these words: «I have used Dz Bull's Cough Syrup and found ig to be an excellent remedy for coughs and colggr. 5 - WILLIAM ORDWAY PARTRIDGE, the Boston sculptor, gets $10,600 for his statue of Shakspeare, and will receive 827,009 for his equestrian statue of GarLeld. He is only 31 years of age. A Splendid Of¥er. The National Portrait Society, 63 Wesg 14th street. New York. offer great indure= ments for portrait painting, in the advertising column of this paper. S el e o MER. GLADSTONE rocently stated that not only local option but Sunday closing of saloons is now receiving consideration by her Majesty’s government. “BROWN’'S BRONCHIAL TROCHES» are widely known as an admirable remedy fore Bronchitis, Hoarseness, Couzhs, and Throat troubles. Sold only in boxes. CHEERFULNESS is health; its opposite, melancholy, is disease.—Haliburton. BEECHAM'S PILLS enjoy the largest sale of any proprietary medicine in the world Made only in St. Helens, England. e e e S s To BE poor, and seem to be poor, is a certain way never to rise.

'I ,_;\i:\\\‘ VTR ,’ 7 ~\~\\\"\&%§¢ N l 4 =N ii O 3 | N RN _"-‘.\’.’*‘."{‘\\ ((\ ~\\s\¥“r ~o ! SO My /,,(\\. A 2 o | NN T R RS ¥ N, W ey - .\-\\;.:\‘.- e N? S Teak e N k 4. o \-.:\0";:::.""-:‘:'::;}:) Y | b 3 XAI "5;:1::'::‘-‘;‘-:-“ "", 4{, ',t\\(‘g\\v\'}-'l;.‘\:\‘.‘» 1) (45 VR YYo N 2V e \‘ R d fl;}{\\‘% I\.‘\ ‘t\\\\{‘: i £ AAUN i) AL 1) ¢ 7%%‘\ \\\\‘\\*»\ (\\l4')-)’} ¥ iIN 5 2 Wi 2’/ R o N - R AR TR N\, e ey \“'tfi' S ":r];; S/; R 77 | \ \‘Q?g‘\% AW ‘,fiy\\’ NN 4 , Myr. Abaer O. Yolsom i Drake, Mich. . After the Grip in Miserable Condition l “I take this opportunity to speak my mind on the virtue of Hood's Sarsaparilla. I have found that the grip uses elderly people pretty geverely. lam sixty-nine vears old, and when the grip attacked me last winter I came very near dyirg. I was all broken down and Reduced to a Were Skeleton. I could not seem to gain any strength or get any medicine to help me. I was advised to try Hood's Sarsaparilla. One bottle cured me; | built me up so that I do not feel any effects ot ! y . | Hocd’s Sarsaparilla | for liver and kidney troubles and is recovering | very rapidly.” A.C. FoLsoM, P.M., Drake, Mich. i Hood’s Piils are purely vezstable, and de | rot purge. pain or gripe. Sold by all druggists, i |R. R. R. i i ' | | READY RELIEF. IE CTRES AND PREVENTS | Colds, Coughs, Sore Throat, Influenza, | Bronchitis, Pneumenia, Swelling of the Joints, Lumbago, Inflammations, ' Rheumatism, Neuralgia, Frostbites, Chilblains, Headache, | Toothache, Astama, i DIFFICULT BREATHINC. ! CURES THE WORST PAINS in from one to twenty | minutes. NOT ONE HOUR after resding this adved { tisement need any one SUFFER WITH PATN. | Radway's Ready Relief is 2 Sure Cure sos Every Pain, Sprains, Bruises, Pains i in the Back, Chest or Limbs. i It was the First and is the ! Oxnly PAIN REMEDY | That instzntly stops the most excruciating pains, ak { lays inflammation, and cures ( ngestions, whethel i of the Lungs, Stomac h. Bowels, or other glands oz | organs, by one application. ; ! A half to a teaspoonful in half a tumbler of water | will in a few minutes cure Cramps, Spasms, Sour | Stomach, Heartburn, Nervousness, SieeplesSNess, Sick Headache, Diarrhea, Dysentery, Collc, Flatu- | lency. and all internal pains. - ! There 15 not a remediai agent in the worid that will cure Fever aud Ague and all other Malarious Billious and other fevers, aided by RADWAX'S PILLS, so quickly 83 RADWAY'S READY RELIEF. . Fifty cents per bottle. Sold by Druggists. s BE SURE TO GET RADWAY'S. ‘| Two Stepping Stones \{to consumption are ailments we otten acem trivial—a cold and acough. Consumption thusacired is rightly d*C quired 1S lig tiy terme on- | {sumption from neglect.” ;! ’ = | E ‘ r.ot only stopsa cold but itis re- .| Jmarkably successful where the .| Ycough has become deep seated. ! TR e e | | | Scott's Emulsion is the| i . ! ; vichest offal-foods yet| [] |7 of fatfoods yet| | | |the easiest fat-food o | | |take. 1t arvests waste| i and builds up healthy : | f?:'j/l. | | e e 8 ' [ Prepered by Scott & Bowne, N. Y. All dmggisu.l g €2SDOBES 25°¢ ,/;,,-‘-;7_;;:-; ":— Fae e | Wecaean) 9P el | BB SHILOH - | R R ' | { CURE. | [RS°SO°RE . | Cures Consumption, Coughs, Croup, Sore Throat.e Sold by all Druggists on a Guarantee. For a Lame Side, Ea:k or Chest Shilok’s Porous Plaster will give great satisfaction.—23 csats