St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 19, Number 25, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 6 January 1894 — Page 3

AT WAR WITH HERSELE Re s e . The Story of a Woman’s Atonement, by Charlotte M. Braeme. CHAPTER XXXl—Continued. | As she stood there, Lady Fanshawe drew aside the velvet hanginzs, and entered the room, Lady Charnleigh, are you here, alone®” she said. “Mics Dacre has been looking for you. You must be very - tired.” “Iwonder what she will say,” thought Leonie, “when I tell her all? Will she like the governess as well as she liked the Countess, or will she be the first to/ say that ‘I never had any style and was

quite unfit for iy station?” I suppose the world is all false alike.” “T have never known anything go off so successfully as this ball has done, Lady Charnleigh. You have gained golden opinions, my dear child. I am inclined to think that fortune was not blind when she chose you for a lady of title and weaith.” “You think I make a better Countess * than I did a governess?” said Leonie, | “Yes. 1 will say more—there i 3 no one living who would grace your posiSt tion or fil%it as you do.” “Thank you, auntie; now good-night, or rather, gocd-morning. Hark! The birds are singing and the sun will soon < shame thes> lights. Au revoir, auntie © —pleasant dreams!” ; Leonie swept upthe grand staircase, her velvet train falling in graceful folds, her fair head erect and stat:ly, @ smile on her lips, her whole energy bßent on one object—not to give way. Florette was waiting for her, “How long can I control myself?” g thought Leonie. “I feel burning tears close to my eyes, and [ must let them flow: there is a burning pain at my heart, and I must be alone that I may weep it away.” F.orette procceded to remove the costly diadem,the necklace of diamonds, the ornaments, the rich trailing velvet robes, and Leoxie ctood quite stili. She felt that if she either stirred or spoke the torrent of grief must have its own ’ way. “Shall I lock those diamcnds up now, my lady:” asked Florette. Leonie looked at them —a few hours more and they would no longer ba hers. I She would feast her eyes on them while ] she could, _ “Leave them until the morning,” she answered slowly. “I am very tired; you can go now. Good-night.” At last she was alone—the long pentup sorrow could have its way. -She iccked the door, and, as the wild torrent of tobs rose to her lips, she flung berself on the ground, not caring whether she ever rose again or not. So lately queen of one of the most brilliant fetes ever imagined, now she Walone, battling as best she could ! th her sorrow and her despair. Deéep, bitter sobs shook the prostrate figure; “it was too hard,” she said to herself. She had been so unutterably happy; and now it was all over. She could

=he " wWePyv PP LD P g LS LR =D Lt e Thausted, and then something like tho ! < gloom and sullenness of despair came | over her. The morning sun was shin- \ . {ng and the birds singing their matin ——H7mns, for the first time a loathing for \ e Bumshine and beanty came over her—she would fain have turned her face to the wall and died. : A sencation of deadly faintness came over her, wnen she remembered that the had not tasted food since dinnertime on the previous day. She wentto she window and opened it, thinking the fresh air might revive her. Dear Heaven, how beautiful it was! The sky was one mass of pale pearl tint: | streaked with gold, the morning air was full of sweet and rare perfume, the dew_was sparkling like diamonds on the Era,ss, the flowers were all at their faivest, the lilies opened their cool, white cups, the roses sent forth a cloud of perfume, and the birds sang as though there was no sorrow in the world. How fair and tranquil it was, the tall trees stirredso gently by the sweet Western wind, and the green boughs rustling with a noise like faint musie! el e s :

—Jo faint, so still, so full of beauty! ‘Her hot, tired eyes wandered over the flowers and trees. It ‘was indeed an earthly paradisa—could she leave it? No, a thousand times no! : The cool morning air refreshed her; it seemed to drive awaaf the fever that burned on her face and in her heart. All this fair prospect, these gardens, these grounds, the rich woodlands, the fertile meadows, the park, had all been hers yesterday. Could she lose them now? ~ A thousand times no! Temptation comes to us at different times; it assails a man when through the open door of a brilliantly li%hted | room, he hears the click of the billiard balls—he forgets his invalid wife at home, and yields to it. It assails us in X %hose monienl:s;i wéx:n wetgr% fwciaa];est. | t came to Teonie Rayner thatlairJune e The while the dew i@y on tho. grass, and the birds sang in the trees ©_a swift, sudden, terrible temptation that male her tremble with its force,

RL SO SRt sEO A . O O L L er Py, XSR e T Ly it B LLTe AL that flushed her face, and caused her | to raise her eyes to the fair morning heavens. '\ “No, not that. Let me lose all—let | me Qie—but keep my honor and my | ¢ruth unsullied—oh, great Heaven!” ‘A terrible temptation it was—one that left her powerless. She trampled upon it as she would have done upon some noisome re})tfle springing at her throat. She refused to hear 'it; then she faltered everso slightly, and looked it in the face. What was it? The words seemed to grow clear to her mind as though they were distinetly spoken. “No one knows anything about the will—why mention it? Destroy it: there is no human being who will be any the wiser; destroy the willl” Again and again the words seemed ? . to be repeated, “Destroy the willl” She SRS . 3 sv o whisper re-

{ BRI e lanClou v e ] echoed from every corner of the room. \ ' : The birds seemed. to sing it, the wind | to repeas it, and Lecnie sat down de- | liberately to look her temptation in the face. Would it be so very wrong after all ! to keep what she had longed looked | upon as her own? It was her owni she was most certainly nearest of kin to | the dead earl; and therefore she had a | right to the title and estate. Was it | just to deprive her of them beeause the | ear] had loved Paul Flemyng’s mother? That gave him no right to the lands and revenues of Crown Leighton. That it was an unjust will she felt quite sure; yet it wasa will made when tha anrl was of sound mind. and every

R S ————— law of honor snd honesty compelled her to gi? ¢ up. Had ne? Lady Fanshawe said that no one would ever grace the position JT.conie held as she did? Surely, if she was doing the best possible for ¢ : falr name of the Charnleighs, it wouid be ‘follfi to make way for one who would Pelil aps not fulfill the duties half so well. . All that sophistry could devise she thought of; but there was no getting over the hroad, plain fact that Lord Charnleigh had not left his fortune o her, but to some one else, and to that person it ought to go—honor was Im{)erative. For her to keeF what beonged to another was so € early stealing as for her to put her hand int> a stranger’s purse. The money, the | land, the title, were not hers, but | anojt_her’s, and she had no pessible right !

| to them. A I “Yet,” cried the unhappy girl, dex- " airingly, “I cannct give them up. I 1 Eave been so happy, 1 have loved my | life so well, I cannot—Heaven help me | —II cannot give them up!” As she turred desFairingl away, s her eyes fell on the little note Igaul had | given her, which as yet she had neither l remembered nor read. : CHAPTER XXX, l “MY DrRAREST LEONIE,” “the note" began—*“l will n>t tease you with a long letter. I didnot intend to trouble ! you at all this evening, but that I can | no lenger conceal the deep, true, ard nt, | love for you that fills my whole heart, | I have seen you this evening so lovely, ! so radiant, so gracious, that it seems i to mo the whole world must be longing | to take my prize away. Leonie, lam | not a poet—l cannot woo you in musical | song. lam a soldier, loyal and true, | and gifted with no g:eat eloguence. I could not tell you how I love you—l | have no words at my comman& that ! can describe my love—but I kneel at | %our feet, and pray you t) be my wife. ] e my wife, sweetest? I shall have | earth’s fairest price then. I would ! rather call you my wife, and know that | I had won your love, than I would be | crowned King; and, if you will trust ! Wurself to me, I will make you happy. | ith my sword I will win a name even | grander than that of Carnleigh. I will | give my whole life to you. You will} not keelp me waiting for an answer, | sweet—l could not bear long suspense. | I shall come to hear my fate to-morrow. ’ | Yours, in life and death, PAuL.” | ] Swift, sudden, and terrible came the | temptatiou, and it mastered her. § “Marry Paul and you will do him no | wrong; marry him, and moneys and lands will all be his own then: the will of the late Earl will be carried out, and | yet you will be Lady Charn'eigh.” So | spoke the subtle, tempting voice | “There is no need to mention the will, no need to lose all that you value so highly, no need to say one word of haying found it. = Marry Paul Flemyng, and then you will endow him with all | your Worlgly goods. 1t cannot matter | how he becomes possessor of the es- l tates, if he does possess them. It can- | not matter whether they are yours, -and you give them to him, or whether they are his and he gives them to you. ion the will—you are doing j aster of

tended him to be, and you will retain | 4 your independence.” | A terrible temptation! She fought against it for a few minutes; from ber |1 lips came the murmur of a prayer: ] “Keep me in all honor, oh Heaven! | ] Keep me in all truth!® Then the sub- | ¢ tle words rang in her ears once more: | “Marry Paul Flemyng, and all will | \ be completely his—as completely as if | | you showed him the will, and left yourself at his mercy. Why go through ! all the pain, why expcse yourself to all l‘ .1- o G T e 2% %

the comments, the gossip, and the sneers? He says he would rather marry you than be a king; so that, in % reality, you are doing him a kindness, and no wrong.” Her head drooped among the leaves and passion-flowers that climbed round the window. She buried her face in her hands. i «I must marry him,” she cried, passionately. “I cannot give up all ! this that my soul loves best. I cannot | lose wealth, position, and grandeur, all at one blow. lcannctbe aslave where | I have reigned a queen.” Then there came to her better thouchts. ; e i

L “I do not love him, and Ido love Ber- | ¢ram with all my heart. I had better toll the truth and leave all to him. | Bertram would marry me if I were a , beggar. i ut Bertram had told her he was not rich. «If I did marry him,” she said, “we ‘should be poor. If it is, as he says, a struggle for him now, what would 1t be were 1 his wife?” g The grandeur, magnificence and luxury that she had always loved seemed | to her now dearer than ever. If she ; | might have kept her wealth, how it would have delighted her to lavish it on Sir Bertram! “We might have beenrich and happy together; as it is we must‘gart. I must ranarey. Panl Flemyng, an restore 10 i him what is hist™ T R | Soright and wrong battled in her | soul—honor fighting dishonor—the

better, higher and nobler nature |: \is‘.trugu'}ing against the lower one. | | Sometimes right swayed her, and she | resolved, come what might, she would be trus to herself; she would give Paul Flemyng the will; she would give up at once the grand inheritance of Crown Leighton; she wou!d marry Sir Bertram if he still urged her to do <o; she would say good-by to the glorious life she had been leading lately; she would keep her conscience free and unsullied ‘ bafore Heaven. Then came a regretful vision of all she would loze, of the “diamonds worth a king’s ransom, of | this beautiful Crown Leighton, of the | fetes and balls, of the homage and | adulation that followed her. And | wrong swayed her. She would not | mention the will, she would carefully 1| keep all knowledge of it from Faul , | Flemyng, but she would marry him, so - \ that ample justice might be rendered

to him after all. ‘ And with this resolve T.eonie drew & deep breath of relief. There would be ‘ no need to give up all, no need to pro- l claim herself a beggarand no countess, no need to leave this® fairyland: she could keep all and yet not do wrong—at least not much—for she could not | dupe herself so far as to consider that - she was acting rightly. | So on that fair June morning, while | the sun shone and the hbirds, sang, she deliberately and willfully sold the | peace of her soul, the tranquillity of | her conscience, her honor and loyalty: ' she willfully bartered them for wealth ~and title. | She raised her fair face from the

w gsion-flowerss, and Biready 1t : ?vis{,hgzged; there WAS S I she ex- , | pression of one ecret to . keep; the clear, CoT R efg that re- | voals the beauty of &he hal soul was ! 5 to be seen; SO HHaEEERR" T ™ ".?orfg!rlng::nin takan to herseiffiion that :t}:lat she WOlfid never more gggpurden | For her resolve was formed. - P | tle was lost—loyalty. truth, Sgge bat- ' retired from the contest dele: dis honor, untruth, pride, amDlggees B~ of splendor and I“’?“'37s&‘ “Bn the ' day. For this Leonie had PARSd with 'a birthright she could claig®® o re. B | mghe would hide the willfi‘ not de- | stroy it-——there was sSOme Kindggt com- ' promise with her c.:o_nscie‘_‘ in this jdea. She would hide it, ans never mention it, but marry Paul Hemyng, and so restore to hym/ rhatava: hga own. That was the resolve gfe made deliberately. She knew right from wrcng—honor from dishonegt— troth from falsehood; butthe temptaße” had been too strong for her—if WS &5 tered her, and she had weal ‘ufi cumbed to it. R e “I will remain Lady Charnigiciilies: tress of Crown Leighton, quétes™, county,”she said to herself, “angils - not count the cost.” e | Yet even as sho said the ‘ krow what the costTWoTg 5 T ery of her whole life; thysarroolll | fore her the grand princel» hes noble, handsome face of Sir Bert she must give him up. If sh f Paul Flemyng’s weaith, she muj keep his love; and yet she kne ' she had no thought for any othe gave Sir Bertram. : - “] must lose my love,” she saidfif -a great tearless sob, “but I shals my fortune.” J She was tired and exhaustee)] said to herself. She would thi more, but would keep to the ishe had made, and let fate do its She lay down on the bed, an out with the storm of emotion, f a deep, dreamless sleep, The sun was high in the h when she aw ke and found F standing by her with a temptt of tea. With that first waking came a rush of thought. Wh happened? She had found a was no longer Lady Charnleigl gave a sigh of unutterable relie? remembered that she had decid keeping that will a secret and 3 ing at Crown ILeichton. She enced a pain words cannot dest she remembered again that sl give up her lover and live wit love. Os what use was the bri shine? Suns would rice and ' the day would never bring him again. An utter loathing ecan her. “Draw down thoze blinds,” 8 “T detest the sun-hine, and 1 sh glad if any one could stop th from singing.” Shining of sun and song © were never more to bring h to the girl who had sold her order to keep the title of C Charnleigh. [To BE cONTINUED.| . A MYSTERY SOL |

£ One of the greatest mysterig. to the minds of the tenderfoot amongfthe cowboys of the western plains#and the - hunters of the Rockies is Bow the stubborn little bronco can be fught to | stand for hours without beingl hitched | and with the curb rein simpl§ thrown | over its head. A rider is newr known | to dismount without first havigy thrown | the rein over the head of the horse, ! but what charm lies in thil action is | unknown to the easterner, and yet the | explanation is a most simple pne. The | secret lies in the fact that she bronco | has been broken to a bis with a | | “spade,” a broad piece of jmetal so placed in the middle of the bit that ' when the curb rein is draw E spade comes hard against the @l of the broneo’s mouth. The rider fl@@ches tho bronco the uses of the spafl@ in this fashion: Having dismoujsled, the breaker throws the curb red pver the ‘{bz-nm'()’s head so that thdirein lies | partly on the cround. §&€hen the | hreaker waits until the brdi§e moves. \ The movement is usx‘mlly nddon and

impetuous. The breaker, &ith equal | suddenness places his foofffhard upon | the dragging end of the rgi, and the i spade is driven into the ##®of of the ! bronco’s mouth. It is a stfi@born beast | that does not stop short wh@n he fecls | the spade. 5 : This discipline is repeaffsl again and : again, until the beast i¢@rns that to | move while his rein hallgs over his | head and trails on the grd@ind is to stir | the spade into activityf’ When the | breaker is sure that thie bronco has | | learned his lesson it isjpretty safe tol ; turn the beast loose withfthe rein over | his head. 7 l The Police Force $f Berlin. z The policemen of Beflin, Germany, l cannot comglain of the@r lot, for they | only work ing the'day. After 10 “Poulin is confided. ”> a number of men who are called witehesasefsdhe | nizht. These men weaf & speclal unyes oD e e A }O. and f“"”l‘f‘l

iorm ana Cally S W"1 5 or 6 o 1 and patrol the city un sor 6 o'clock | in the morning. DBerlifiisds manned by | 3,500 policomen entirgdy . drawn from “ the ranks of non-com sioned officers, | who must have spent ¢ least nine years . in the army before thefy are eligible for | a post in the police fodce. The police- ’; men live on excellen§ terms with the townspeople, and are both liked and re- ‘ spected. Berlin is divided into eighty- | two police districts, each officered by a i lieutenant of police, who has under him two sergeants, two telegraphists, two messengers, twelve policemen and two detectives, the latter carrying revolvers. Saved from an Awiul Death. A party of cattlemen out on the Mojave Desert recently came across the | srail of two men and two burrcs. The | aimless, zigzag course of the trail showed that those wh(1) had made it e TR ol AA- SR i NI VLS

| were lost, and the cattlemen at once | set out to find them. Late inthe eveni ing the cattlemen came upon a young man Iyin% under a mesquite bush, becide a hole dug six feet deep in the gand, murmuring in delirium and at the point of death. Hehad been without water more than three days and had lain down tO die. A mile further on they overtook an old man, who, delirious, was crawling on hands and \ knees toward a pool of brackish water, | heside which stood the two burros, . ‘ The two men Were miners, who had | lost their way_ & week before. Both men recovered after a few days of care ,| at the ranch. | &

. "M"——'"""—""!' o THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. L e | AN INTERESTING AND INSTRUC- | TIVE LESSON. ‘ { i i——— } ' Reflections of an Elevating Character—- ' Wholesome Food for Thought—Studrl ~ ing the Scriptural Lesson Intelligently | i and Profitably. ' ; ‘ ! The First Adam. ¢ The lesson for Sunday, Jan. 7, niay be found in Gen. 1: 26-31; Si: i-3. g i | INTRODUCTORY. - . - | We enter here 'lt%am. a course of - study in Genesis, The temptation is t to go into the nice questions of the | reconciliation of the Bible with sci- | énce and criticism. Certain classes Q there areiwhxch will find it convenient) { and profiiable to enter upon thase#47 fussions. Such will sing #8927 fi‘,hf literature an abnpdziiiuii. oß° zaaur Sheir puxyaasid Gilations O s fom 0 M L:;" his king

~ _— dm{own BtUAY ase- .. O BBVE . eenan Genesis “The Book of Beginnings.” Key word: Beginning: Kety verse, f: T ‘ -Pictorially it stands out before cur eyes ‘a3 The Gateway to the Intor‘preter's! tHouse, or The Portico to the Lord’s | Banqiueting Hall. There are five main | divisions: ‘ : I‘)rivisi(,n 1. Adam to Noah. Chapter, | X%)ivision 9. Noah to Abraham. VL-"; . | Division 3. Abraham to Jacob. XILXXVIL ‘ Division 4. Jacobto Jeseph. XXVILFRXVE | Division 5. Joseph. XXXVIL-L. | The prominent personages of Gen- ! esis history, rising like mountain sum- { mits, are thus seen to be Adam, Ncah, . Abraham, Jacob, Joseph. These shall i be our companions for the next three months, ‘; Back in the old homestead we boys | thought it great sport to trace out the | trickling hillside streams to their halfhidden sources. We would push back -through bush and briar, under boughs 't and thickets until at last we came pos-

ST W TRy SR <A SO 0y oLnLM T D e e sibly to scm> overhanging rock and | fcund the wa‘er gushing out from be- | neath. There we stopped, of course. | We had reached the fountain-head. | And here again we are brought to! pause—“ln the beginning God.” Brash- | ith; beginning, head. Worship God. | | Let it be a beginning time with us | ' all. Begin the year with God, the day ‘ ' with God. “My voice shalt thou hear in ‘ the morning, O Lord, in the morning | will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.” Sheridan’s cry, as he rode down that Winchester way and i met his disecor aged and disorganized forces struggl g back from the field, | was, “Face the otber way, boys! Face the other way!” It needs to be spoken ‘ in church and Sunday-school to-day. ' Recall Ruskin’s dream of the chil-' | dren brought into the beavtiful manor. ‘ | It was theirs to use 2nd enjoy. But \ 16 TIO v oo nied &all o L mrettv thines: nno e e o

pl'ULb_y VIl ® Mo inside the pal&ce them sumptuous splendor for a while, but | ‘at last_began to envy the court and i contend, and the la:t the dreamer saw ! - was a confused rabble pulling out the | brass tacks in the furniture and strug- | gling to see which should have the | | Jargest number of them ere he was | forced ta leave. Oto get back to God’s | view of things and to God’s purpose in creation! O to renew our primal youth, l | and be children again with God in! God’s garden! k | For ihe love of God is broader i Than the measure of man’s mind; ! And the heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind. ‘ ‘lt our lives were but more simple, 1 { We should take him at his word; \ Ana our lives would Le all sunshine | : In the sweetness of the Lord | | Next week—“ Adam’s Sin and God’s | Grace.” Gen. 3: 1-15. ' e s ‘_ ! Multum in Parvo. ,! A LIGHT heart lives long.—Shak- . speare. .| CoverousNmss hoards itself poor.— l | German proverb. r | ALL true love is grounded on esteem., - i —Buckingham. ,1 ' IT is wonderful how near conceit is to > insanity.—Jerrold. i \ YoUR levelers wish to level as far h down as themselves.—Johnson, O ‘ GobD created the coquette as soon as he had made the fool.—Viector Hugo.

T i e i iAo gt I i CHICAGO’'S WOMEN. Thelr Destitution Is as Great as That of the Men, ! Though much has been written about the destitution of Chicago workmen, comparatively little has beea said about the condition of the women of that city, and yet their suffering and desire to | get work are quite as great. Hundreds ?gesiege every shop looking for posi- | tions as clerks; as many more answer 3 the few advertisements which appear for dom@mw All of them wl;;: | band is a laboring man, and we have five small children. We have lived‘ { for some time in the basement at_MNo; 323 West Chicazo avenue. J‘,';,fi:;,,?;:"»’_r’j paid 34 a month , for Zor oßt Rt ters. When Joly Svana o 0 ~lng | woske 27%2a 50%6 megs © £od the R R et +ut wa Srige | o g it the Mg to }:ie Paise'(} Bdlopg " In. Sent ,

BB sonpins aenn AWEE S - L 0 nine Qition'is goo. though in lany ce small on account of latefsewing, - TolL: l 8 large part of the crop fs eovered wispl® and its condition can oy be " ey, ' nupglosod to be in from fair to good 1 In Missouri the crop looks weil considering . the very d.r{_tul and winter. In Nebraska rain ‘ anceded. he condition is variously reported fair and good. lowa reports little winter | wheat sown. Where it has been put in it is | quite generally reported as good. Bnow cov- | ers it in some counties. 8o that its gondition l ¢ o-muot be certainly told. In Wisconsin the ! crop is in fair to good condition, and bas been I | well protected by snow through most of the | severe woather. It is still covered with snew to such an extent that little danzer exists. Farm Stock—ln Iliinois farm stock is looking well. Among the hogs cholera is prevailing in some counties In ludiana feed is re- | ported as pientiful and stockin good condi- { tion. In Ohio the general condition is reported good. Stock in Michigan looks well 1n spite t of the poor condition of the fall pastures. | Stock in Missouri is reported in exceptionally | fine condition, and those animals being fattened for market are making rapid gains, Jowa reporis feed plentiful and stock ‘doing well Fodder is plentiful in Wisconsin and stock, as a rule, looks fine. The general con- ! dition is good. Minnesosa reports stock as | good and healthy. The same condition exists | in the Dakotas. . eel sO e L Notes of Current Events, l THERE are 100 cases of grippe at

“’eathe;‘ly, lja.;vz; town of *:i,éjoo inhab- | itants. E CHARLES COLLINS, wanted for mur- | der and robbery, was arrested at Freeport, Pa. : l . W. J. Fousr, assistant postmaster of ! | Thornton, Texas, was arrested for em- l l bezzling $750. | RICHARD FITTENREINER, an electric light lineman, was killed by a falling pole at St. Louis. Jorx C. ALTON, found dead at Osceola, Towa, is supposed to have been killed by tramps. MARTIN FINN, a farmer, was waylayed and murdered while going home from Falmouth, Ky. : ROY SHUBERT, a Belmont, La., boy, was blown to pieces by the explosion of | & box of dynamite. ! Tue vilage of Brantford, Ont., is . under.water, owing to a sudden flood in

it : have been kilieu i Cherrillos, Mexico. ' ~ PopuLisT members of the House will urge the adoption of a graduated tax - upon all big estates. i WiLLiAM HAWLEY, a burglar, com- | mitted suicide in the New Jersey peni- | tentiary at Trenton. % FOUR men were probably fatally hurt . at Derringer, Pa., in a fight between s Austrians and Poles. Z FARMER PIRA, who killed two confi- | dence men at Sioux City, lowa, was | wildly cheered on acquittal. CLARK FRANCIS, aged 16, of Beatrice, Neb., broke through the ice in Blue River and was drowned. GEORGE ASTLEY, of Springfield, Mo., was shot and killed at Wichita by John Keefe, a farmer, who surrendered. R. D. HARRELL was appointed receiver of. the Texarkana Furniture Factory. Assets, $30,000; liabilities; 845,000, | 1 JoHN WRIGHT, Hamilton agent of ‘ the Dominion Building and Loan Asso- { ciation of Toronto, has disappeared | with $2,5(0 belonging to the Hainilton ) i share-holders. ‘ AT Russellvil'e, Franklin County, + 1 Ala., a mob brecko into the jail and re- ‘ leased Doek and Lce Siles, two Marion County murderers and outlaws, impris- ! oned for the murder of Postmaster Kirk at Guin.

NEWS OF OUR STAT 3‘ , A WEER AMONG TNz HUSTL HOOSIERS, { e 5 What Our Neighbors Are Doing_a e ©f General and Local Interest—a & and Deaths — Accidents and Cri i Polaters About Our Own People. - & g Minor State Items. ~ _ANDY Dow, o dccidentaliey | shotr in thee sacs Tecgy Clgh%or Madison. ‘,J-!lfl"‘"" er, byt joue Blm ST GOR, Wil] e S| PR S 0 Gorey “-0 c '-Iby g nOf e ut v Ville Ha, ! ’:';1-;': ex;)zodpd»,y 8 capp haq higmond i > > O . S ey, i *"Trsfu‘(?‘.‘fear_oi? fPOnt ‘);?,-hl'ccra_cizees ,‘ L()R-an ’("()Pge (I“ da“?hte is face, r c.]”thi!?‘rymrt' Wag }l;‘V’ “vintc., of Mr, anqg ""eblacé, “Utchiy Ted gs nort,™d I g j‘) e T Ty, % fre o deaipiof Welve gal32ospg " opep ~ % Baleg 't Pph o I wi)p " 2avos sa s " Soon ,53y8 g Y

r details 1> O i s s : tated into the river. g 5 Ep. SMITH aud Frank Brag, oM » Ladego, went hunting, and’ .“v‘jb«.%" | tired they climbed a fende to ress, | The two got to joking one another, and finally Brady pushed Smith off the , - ! fence. Smith got up and catching holq - !!()f the gun held by Brady, gaveit a | jerk, trying to pull him to the ground. > { The gun was discharged and the en!tim load entered the abdomen of | Smith. It made a feariul looking i wound and Smith died almost instantly. i Brady ran for assistance and the body ;of Smith was carried home. Smith | was 16 years old, and Brady was a few | years older. | PATENTS have been issued to Indiana | inventors as follows: Charles W. Delaney, assignor to J. W. Dgysard, Hammond, coin controlled apparatus: , | Alphonzo Hayward, Warsaw, heater P 250 ctnolr tranoche Fobert H Kercsev.

JOT SLtOCK ttouzZ s, lIWUCOLUV 11. IATLIOUYy Lebanon, apparatus for heating an - circulating hot water: Peter A. Kiz-cl*’ l ner, Fort Wayne, water alarm so; \ steam boilers: Robert E. Porch, SP™& land, washing machine: John L. K§ . Brownsville, wire fence; Jame ‘ Slack, Sugar Branch. whiillctibeed | Charles I. and E. Williams@igs b City, land roller; James J. W - N Wayvne, electric transiormer. | g LR ANDERSON is at present § »%*3 with a crowa of insolent tramp s<o have insulted and terrorized Wc%gz,r and children. The other day May = John H. Terhone ordered a tramp WBo' had been arrested to leave the city yor two minutes, and then issued instruetions to the police officers that will put an end to the tramp Luisance. Turns g ing to the Chief the Mayor said: “‘lp want the police officers to arm thems- | selves with rawhidesand not bring an¥ : | more of thesemen here, butgo to wori { | and whip every insolent tramp out £ -

the. cit -2 The sentiment hnas li—= ] o boanty aHDrOVE , ¢lass :;E lerks X lOr KLU wes 'as, L result of a practiCar o et on him at Cammack station, by friends. A stranger 1o Rudy wa F‘ ' duced to impersonate a sheriff. stranger approached the young BENT and read what purported to be a rant charging him with larceny. egs § at once fled and did not stop unf reached home, four miles @3 3§ where he arrived exhausted arde came unconscious before an ex tion was made. His brain gavée fi and it was necessary to call in 3 men to control him. He j that a tribe of Indians are 2 ! scalp. There is much symylid . the young man, and it is Ilill [ several arrests will be madol e | sult. ; t | SYLVAN BALLARD, a 4 grandson of contractor Elijah e of Shelbyville, was severcly il * on the back by falling in g y i % boiling water. | s, o DRIVEN to desperation 5 and inability to oet "'t.'.l::;_lk bye his family, Charles F Mi! Vt‘-. z respected young ln:m' ;)‘.1.197- . i tempted to pass forgeq e I\" i each on the Citizens’ e the Howard Nationg] 1 A USRI place. He was arp £ hanie ¢ : S Aarresteq #§ ¢ I the crime. He said pj A | starving and he committeq 48 a last resor &2 s F 5