St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 3, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 4 August 1894 — Page 7

at Last XtNv MISS M E BRAM,,N ? _s>^**************

W jplWa /4& n / Jg CHARTER XXI, A HAPID THAW. Sir Cyprian Davenant had ridden to Totteridge several times after his discovery of Mrs. Walsingham’s connection with the village as tenant of that small and unpretending house with the green shutters, glass doo? and 8 ,uare plot of garden. It was his habit to put up his horse at the inn, and go fora etroll while the animal rested after his i midday feed, and in these rambles ho ha I ma le tho acquaint nice of the nurse and b iby at the green-shuttered house. The nurse was a Ge'man girl, fatfaced, good-natured and unintelligent. Sir Cyprian won her heart at the out- : set by addressing her in her native | language, which sho had not hea d since she came to England, and in the confidence in-pirod by his kind manners and excellent German she freely imparted her affairs to the stranger. Mrs. Walsingham had hired her in Brussels, and brought her home as nurse to the little girl, whose previous nurse had been dismissed for bad con- ; duct in that city. “Mrs. Walsingham's little girl?" in- , quired Sir Cyprian. “No. The darling wa< an orphan, i the daughter of a poor cousin of Mrs. Walsingham who had died in Vienna, and the kind lady had brought the little one home, and was going to bring her up us her own child. " Sir Cyprian heard and was doubtful, j He had his own theory about this baby, ■ but a theory which he would not for j worlds have imparted to any one lie ; got on quite familiar terms with the little one by and by. She was a chubby, rosy infant of about til teen months old. j with brown eyes and fair complexion, an 1 hair that mad? golden-brown rings upon her ivory forehead. She made frantic efforts to talk, but at present only succeeded in being loquacious in a language of her own. She was quite ready to attach herself to the wande. ing stranger, fa ci- I nated by- his watch-chains and seals. j “What is her name?” asked Sir Cyp- ‘ rian. “( Jara, but we always call her ‘Baby.' ” “Clara? That's only her Christian name. She has a surname. I supp s• ?" The nurse maid supposed as much ■■■■hu, blit Tiad never heard any surname, nor the profession of the lit to dear’s father, noran. details of the father and mother. Mrc Walsingham was a lady who talked very ittlo, but she seemed extremely fond of Baby She came t > see her twice a w ek, ami sometimes -taye 1 all day. playing wi h her, and superintending her di: ner. and carrying her ab >ut the garden. On the morning after that interview with James Wyatt Sir Cyprian rode over to Totteridge ami put up his horse, as usual, at the inn. The nm-s.' mid t 4 I him that Mr-. Walsingham was to be at the cottage t»duy. and he had srec’al reasons for wishing t > ~ee that laly. Ue might have c alled upon her in Half-Moon street, of course, but he p eferred to see her in Baby ? establishment. if possible. It wai noon when he wa k- d up and down the pathway hes. m the cottage, waiting for Mrs. Walsingham * arrival, a bright winter day, witn a bm ■ ^kv and a wed wind. He had exchanged greeting with Baby already, that young la ly saluting him from the nursery window with vivacious dour She? of her pink arms. The church clock had not long struck twelve when Mrs. Walsingham s neat b ougham drove up. She ojened the door and let herself out. and had scarcely stepped into the pathway when । she recognized Sir Cyprian. She turned very pale, and made a । little movement, as if she would have • gone l ack to her carriage, but Sir ( yp- I rian advanced, hat in hand, to greet ; her. “You have not forgotten me I hope, ' Mrs. Walsingham'-” ‘Sir Cyprian Davenant. I think?" "Yes: I had the pleasure of meeting ■ you more than three years ago at the ' Star and Garter. ” “I remember per'eetly. You have been in Africa since then. I have read some notices of your adventures ' there. lam glad to see you : o litll - the worse forthem. And now T n -? bid you go dmo nine. 1 haw : come ye mle 1 e e. You can wait at the inn. Holmes.” to the coachman. "Will you give n o half an hour —a quarter of an hour's conversation. Mrs Walsingham?" asked Sir Cyprian. , I She h oked at him uneasily, evidently' puzzled. “Upon what -übject?” “Ui on a matter of life and death.” “You alarm me. Have you come here On purpose to waylay me? 1 thought our meeting was accidental.” “Waylay is a disagreeable woid: but I certainly came here this morning on purpose to see you. I am going to make an appeal to y< ur heart. Mr . Wa singham. I want you to do a noble action.” “I am afraid you have come to the i wrong quarter for that commodity,” the answered, with a bitter smile, but she seemed somewhat reassured by this mode of address. “Shall we walk?” she- asked, moving away from the garden gate. The wide high-road lay before them, destitute of any sign of human life, the ' leafless limes and chestnuts standing up against the winter sky, the far-off hills i purple in the clear bright air. They i would be as much alone here as within •

any four walls, and Mrs. Walsingham was evidently disinclined to admit Sir Cy| rian into Ivy Cottage, as the house with the green shutters was called. “Have you friends here? Do you como often?” asked Mrs. Walsingham, carelessly. “I take my morning ride hero occasionally, and the < thorday, while resting my hoise, I made the acquaintance of your German nurse and her charge. Baby is a mo t fascinating little thing, and 1 take the warmest interest in her. ” “What a pity my small niece is not old enough to appreciate the honori” sneered Mrs. Walsingham. Sir Cyprian ignored rhe sneer. "My interest in that sweet little "thing has given rise t >a strange idea - a wild one. you will >ay, jorhaps- when I have explained myself. I told you that I was coming to make an appeal to your heart. I como here to ask you to lend your aid in aving tho life and reason of one whom you may have deemed in s nm wi-o your rival. Mrs. Sinclair is dying.” Mrs. Wa'singham was silent “Yi u have heard as much from some one eise, perhaps?" "1 hea d that sho vas seriously ill.” “And mentally afflict© 1?" ‘A es. You do not expect mo to bo ! greatly shocked or j-riev cd, L hope. I never saw the lady, except in her box at the opera." “An I, being a stranger, you cannot pity her. That is not following the example of the good Samaritan.” “If 1 fi ur.d her on the roadside I ! should try to su •< or her, I dare say," ; answered Mrs. Walsingham; "but as ‘ her distresses do not come in my pathway, and as 1 have plenty of nearer demands upon my pity I can hardly be expected to make myself misera de on Mrs. Sinclair’s account. No doubt she has plenty of sympathy a husband i who adores her and the chivalrous devotiom fill admirer- like yourself. ’ “Spare her your sm e.s. Mr.. WalI singham. At no moment of her mar j vied life has she been a woman to Isenvied. In her p vaunt condition to liefuse her pity would lie le?s than human. Constance Sine air is dying of a broken heart. “Very sad." sighed Mrs. Walsingham. “That is what you would say if oneof your fii mds re nted the untimely I death of a favorite lup-dog. Have you ever thought what that pnrase means Mr-. Walsingham? People mo it ' lightlyenough. A broken heart the ! slow agony of a grief that kills a j broken heart, not broken by s une sud- j | den blow, that shatters joy and if" t - > gether happy those whom sorrow slays with such merciful violence but i tho slow wearing away, the dull. h<q o- j j less days, tho sleepless nights, the I despair that eats into tho ■*««!. vet i. slow to kill thes- are the ag mie* I which we sum up lightly, in our c »n---ventional phraseology. ween we talk 1 ab mt broken h» a~ts.” “Is it the loss of h< r baby which Mrs. i Sinclair Joels so de. pl; ' a.sk. ,1 Mr-. Wul-inghum.who had listened th mghtfuiiy to Sir Cypriart's ap^ieal. sho m> l< nger affeeto t a callous indifference 1 to her rival's'grif f “Ye*. That is the grief that is kill- ' ing her She has never lx en renHv happy with her hu-ban 1. though -h •’* hat Ixen si good at .1 d tsful wife, Th«child bro ght her happiness. She I gave it all her love. She may hai< erred tterhapi in s one. nt rat ing her i :ifle< tion up< n this biby. l> it t’.c ba represcntml her world of love Whi' s that wi. taken from her si ld r.lv without a m me it's wamirg shcgaie horse sup to despair. 11 nve taKed to a faith ul -eriant who wa- wit . h< r sit that bitter time, who ku- w L.-r , measureless I>. <> or tm-t. Sia.- - scon hs-r i i In r grief. - - n he • the i wise ; of the joyous girl I ktew three y ears si go. “ Mrs Walsingham was moved. No i softening tear v<»iied the ha: J bright- . n ‘ss < f lie? dark ey< s but her Lwcr ’ ' lip worked tiervonsi v, and lies' im re i - ' iiU r all u‘ t Id i f ;i mind deeph t oubb-d. “If her husba d hml by any act of ihi. brought her to thin conu'ition. I .-hould c.ill him something worse than a murderer,” said sir < vpr an ' but ’bully as I think of Gill»ert ? in.- air. I I can not blame him here. It is d ‘s--1 tiny that has b-eu cr .‘I a ii < • able Providence which has e' o i in 'i t tnis hopeless misery or, thtlest and m st inm en: of victim-. .t is very hard to undet'ta d why this j should be. ' 'Mrs. Sinclair is not th-' first, '-aid | Mr.-. Walsingham, 'tr.iggli: g against । some strong feeing. “sth t w« men I have lost children they loved <niy j children the idols, f t! e's he i: t-. ” ; “Other women h ive had kinder hits' bands, perl.a s. t> sympathize with ' an I com ort them. < >the ■ women l ave had sources 6f < oasolat on which Mrs. Sinclair had not." । "She ha । her piet ;. her church, her l praye -bcok. 1 should have thought i so pure and perfect a woman wou'd find consolation from those. Ido no* pro- ' fess to be religious, or to haw ' r,-. Ures laM up in b. avcn and the less of what 1 love most on earth might bring I m- t> madness. But Mrs. .-in lair s’ placid perfection should b • above such human passions. " 'She is human enough and w.mk I enough to break her heart for the- oss ■ ;of her child.” answered Sir Cyrian I ig. owing angry. “But you seera t> b ? i incapable of pity, and I f ar I haiei 1 been mi-taken in appealing t > you. i i Yet I thought that your love for that ■ child yonlcr might' inspire s >me fe -1- ' ing of sympathy with an afflicted ! ' mother." "My affection for my poor little or- ! phan cousin—a waif thrown on my 1 hands by miss rtune —is not a very ab I sorting sentiment,” answered Mrs. j Walsingham with languid scorn. “S > much the better.” cried Siri : Cyprian, eagerly, “for in that case you will the easier fall in with my plan for I saving Mrs. Sinclair's life and reason.” “Y'ou have a plan for saving her?” : “Yes, a plan recommend, dby her j physicians, and to which her husband , and_her father have given their consent. । In a crisis in which nothing but hope ; could save her she has been told to ; hope. It has even been hinted to her । that her child is still living.” Mrs. Walsingham started and looked I at him wonderingly. I "A cruel deception you think, but the

case was desperate, remember. The false hope has already done sometWig. I have heard this morning that thjrs has been a faint rally—a flicker of returning intelligence" Sho remembers that she has been told to hope— -e---members and looks forward to he realization of tho promise that Mas been made. If we fail her now, despair will again take possession of he*— more bitter beeau-o pf this ray of light. The pan formed by these Who love her best is to give her a child to love —a child whom she will believe at first to b? her own, tavod from the German river, but about whi h, in time tocome, when reason and st ength have rctu ned, she may be told the truth. She will have given the little 1 one her love by that time, and the adopted child wi 1 fill the place of tho lost one.” “A most romantic scheme, assuredly, S'.r Cyprian. Ami pn.y what part do you expect n e to play in this domestic drama? Wliy chooss me .for jour confidante?” “The little girl you have adopted is about the age of Mrs. Sinclair's baby. You admit that she is not very dear to yo i a charge which you have taken upon your elf out of charity. lot Gilbn t Sinclair adopt that child. He shall provide handsomely for her future: or, if you prefer trusting me, I will settle a sum of mon y which you shall approve in trust for your little cousin, y.m yourself choosing tho trustees. G ve mo that do r child, Mrs. Walsingham, and you will ba the means of saving Constance SinclairMk life.” “That child?" oriel Mi 3. Wak»^ 1 ham, looking at him with wide-op^yj cye». -j give ,v<>u t h < onatanco iucluirW solace and consW77 tion to win Gilbert's wife back to li?#’ and ha; piness! I surrender that chilut You must be mad to ask it.” L "Di l y. u n t tell mo just now thaw the child wai n>t especially dear t< E you?” “She is dear to mo," answered Mri | Walsingham, vehemently. "I hav 1 grown to love her. She is all I hav > in the world to love. Sho reminds m . of one who once loved me. Why d i von prate t > me of Mrs. Sinclair s lon< > line-?- She cannot U- lonelier than am. What Is there but emptiness £ J my heart yet 1 do not complain of A broken heart. Ido not abandon mj ■ self to madnes? or imbecility. I bea ’ ■my burden, let he h-ar hers. Giv • you that child, indee 1 That is a-kin ; too much.” “Bardon me, Mrs. Walsingham. «i thought I was talking to a woman wi* a nohle nature who?' higher instinew onl\ needed to Ite appealed to.* I 'lt is so long since jsmp e have.. iJt off aj pruling t-o my higher instin®* that they have somewnat lost th«r use. Do you think, sir Cyi rian Ih*- * enant, that I have cause t»love or pity , or -arrificc my-elf for Constam c Slhcla r You should know better thsn that, utiles? you have lived all these I year- in this world without know ng • what kind of clay your follow men and women arc made of. 1 have the very stronge-t reason to defeat Mrs. Slni clan . and Ido detest her franklv. She has d me me no wrong. y< u will sat. She has done the greatest wrong* rohln’ l me of tho ma t I o of wealth, statu*, name, and place in the wor-4. math »to me that sho ; was tine mseious ot that wrong'* *ha j has d<»n ■ it. and 1 hato her f< r it, and shall »o hale ho tilt my dying day.* , “Your haired w iil not reach her. <4 th<’ grave or follow lor tw»y i’lv' answered -dr Cyprian. “Vour pity I might save her Hie.* 'hln i some h'>*pita' brat to palat i ti|«m th!? dist-ae'i' i mother s-une t>aby-farm.*rM protegee ' ■1 will find ? 'mo re.|eeiably bort child, lx. s ire. M * Walsingham. It was only a fanev. p« rhap«. which I»d m • t<> pr n •— taking vo ir litCe kin • woman Jr o’. ,1 t*w much upontha , gen -i i 'ity i f a <1- 1: point- d rival." And w . ih U shmne th u-t sirt yprian b wed m 1 wa k d away. !"avh g A woman o' thi' kind, a I vHg swayed j by pa--n>n, i? , !•. a m.i?s of in -onsiat* I enev and c-'et: ;o;s ■• . - now hot now i I cold. \t a late o: that evenin’ Sir Cyp-mn r • a. d a loiter, d divered i b. u man-s-rvaHt. It wa? from Mrs. Waßin.'hmn "I am tl.c m ?t wret bed of women* -he vvrot. “u?t r!y u ary of life. ' Mrs S n a nut, ' i.< th»’ hiid. She wool I giow ;p a wret< his she grew np make? me mo " mi?crabl.-and more litter. What - ha' I to a- an old woman? semi ?omi t i?tw.»! thy | ear son t" f ’eh tho L:t ■ gir to-morrow. eon itkrn that Mr?. -.t.eluirshall never I: now t w.":i ?' owe- l.<-r adopted J . Ma- tie a lopte n pro>|xu\ But ' I h- ar t *.a* V - air i? in a fair wa. t > ruin, I in> n> ’ think that you are giving my young kinswoman a very Ir: mnt s art n life !'e thi? as it may. I wa?h my hand? iier. Yue has not I rough’ m lur pine*?: and perhaps if I wer * to let her wind herst-lf around my heart, it might prove by and bv that I ha I taught a serpent to coil there. I have not too god an opini. n of her blcod. Yours truly. < I.AKA \\ ALSIXGHAM. "Haif-mo mstreet,Wednesday night." - |TO BE (OXTOI'EU A CITY OF EXTREMES. I’he \« ry liti h and ! ht- rr Poor M iko Up \ < at That Killed Snakes. "Did you ever :ee a stake-killing cat- asked a Southern gentlepnan tho other da •. “I had on - once that had a regular pas-dm for killing snakes. I wa? running a hunter camp in Fiori- ' da. It wi? in a very sparsely s dtied I cot nty, plenty < f marsh arid rotten I . trees, and altogether an ideal retreat for-mikes of all kin Is. We never did 1 , know where iha cat came from, it , -trolled into eamp > ne da\, although i j there was not a house within ten miles ‘ jof it. I lie next day we found it en- । gage I in mortal combat with a rattle- j : snake. The snake did not la?t v. ry ' long. After that the tat would kill I I every snake it found. It wou'd begin | | by patting them s dtly with its paws, | : perhaps s-ratehing the skin ju-t a trifle. Its purpose seemed to be to ir- I tato the snake to the striking point. When it rose to strike the cit would jump an und it, and nip it in the back b?fore the snake could turn its head, i It would yank the snake by tho tail' i and keep on nipping it until its back I was broken in ?evital 1 laces. Then । the cat would drag the dead snake to : camp with great pride, and would purr and sing in great shape. That cat kept the camp itself clear of snakes. Before that time we were al most a s raid to go to sleep for them.”

HOME AND THE FARM. A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. M lie lirltlviition of Hroom Corti—Extensive Irrigation Plant in KantiHß—How to Make Swiss Cream Cheese — A Nail in the Horse's Foot. Broom Corn. forty years ago broom corn was grown to quite an extent in the Con--1 necticut Valley, and the Hadley broom was a well-known r.ticleof commerce in the New England States. With the opening of rich land in the more recently settled portion of the country the center of production of i this plant moved rapidly to the West. It has disappeared from the seaboard, but is a profitable crop in some/rt the central Western States. If it receives suitable attention at the right tinfe broom corn is not a difficult crop to produce. While late planting is to tie avoided, it is not well to go to the other extreme and i do this work while the ground is ■cold. A well-prepared seed bed is of /great importance and it is a good plan to plow the ground some time before the planting is to be done, i This will cause the seeds of weeds i Land grass whU'h may be in the wand to germinate lie fore the me par. t Ktlon of the surface soil is made.’' a ’ ^thorough pulverization of the surface just before p anting will destroy ''the-e intruding plants, and will 1 I thereby greatly aid in keeping the | crop clear. As the plants of brcoin Corn are rather weak and make only ’ a slow growth during the first few weeks^ifter they appear, the providing of a clean and mellow seed bed is a matter of considerable consequence. । Planting in hills, which was atone . time almost universal, has largely I been superseded by drill culture. The ' old custom was to make the hills I 1 from two to two and one-half feet apar^, in rows from three to four j feet from each other. A liberal quantity of seed was use I. This made it necessary to thin the plants at the second hoeing and involved a great deal of very hard work. If good machines are used and properly : gauged just the right quantity of seed can Iw planted When care is used in ?e|p' ting seed this is oy far the t>est way as thinning tiie plants ;is Loth expensive and tiresome. On 01 di nary soil the stalks may stand three Inches apart In the drill, or two stalks together every six or seven I inches. Either very thick or very thin planting wII seriously inlurc the quality <»f the brush, in case a dwarf variety is grown the planting can le much closer than the distances above named. Cultivation should be commenced as soon a# the plants are well above the around. It rhou d shallow arid l»9 repeal'd frequently. If weeds appear l>elween the plant* in the drills they must removed If al. lowed to remain t ey will retard the - growth of the cron and greatb increase the iaixir of harvesting, as well as provide f<>r a succession of thrirkind in future years--Chicago Inter Or .in. hi « >Oof. Anv k nd of punctur'd wound requires spv'i.il treatment, teause healing of any wound mu?t I • gin at the bolt m of t and if otherwis the diseased matt r in the wound will become Inc used in It. ami must breas out tn time in ?ome way or ani other, says the ’‘Stockman an 1 Farmer.” I’hus, an incompletely ' healed wound will In time U come an abscess that may give much trouble, especially in the foot, which, being enclose 1 in -t* horny c ver;ng affords n<> escaj© for the pus formed, and this burrow? am-- g th t ??ues,forming a fistula, or spreading so th it the bones of 1 he f "t become di?ea?ed and the horse is ruined. The first thing to le done is to remove the na 1, it it or a part of it rema ns in the foot, j th n to enlarge the opening and reach the bottom, iipecting some active liniment or other stimulant, and keeping the opening fre • for the escape of pus until the healing advanc s to the surface, when a simple protection to the sore will be sufficient until the healing is completed. Bare to be exercised to k ep the wound clean by frequent injections of warm water with a few drops > f carbolic acid in it, and if the loot is inflamed, poultices are to be used. The^ntrance of sand or grit into the wotjki is to be strictly avoided. ■ - V- Swlhs Creaiu Cheese* SwSkS cream cheese is made as fol!f>ws:S Bring one gallon of sweet ere a 1-ito atemperature of 45 degrees, ami }«t in enough rennet to thicken it in twenty-four hours. Let the rennet be carefully tested beforehand. and the right quantity diluted In half a small glass of water before It is added to the. cream. The cream must te stirred a few minutes to have it al! mixed in well, and then keep it about 65 degrees. After twenty-four hours it should be like clotted cream in consistency. Now hang it up in a cloth bag to drain for twenty four hours, breaking it apart gently occasionally, that the whey may escape well. Next the bag is placed between two boards under light compress, when the cheese is tit • to be moulded arid sold or used. An excellent article may be made of whole milk, on the plan of the foregoing receipt for Swiss cream cheese, or one-third cream may be added to the milk. All must be perfectly sweet and free from taint, and be put on the market in the mo?t deli ate ; condition and packing to get the prices it deserves. A Large Irrigation Plant. Among the irrigation plants in ! course of construction in Kansas ’ probably the most extensive is that of Mr. G. M. Munger of Eureka.

Greenwood County. He isconstru ting a reservoir which will cover about 160 acres with water. This is done by building a dam 2,800 feet long and thirty eight feethigh at Its greatest height. d'his, as described by “The Irrigation Farmer” will catch the storm waters from a large area and will be used prima ilv for the irrigation of a 500 acre orchard nowJust beginning tc bear. The water will be ra sed by two compound duplex steam pumps, ihe water cylinders of which are 12 by 15 inches. Each pump has ten inch suction and 8 inch discharge. These pumps will elevate the wa|«r to a he ght of 65 feet, delivering it on the highest part of Mr. Munger’s farm. 'l’he estimated cost of the plant complete, incl dng j ditches for distribution of the water, 1 ' is $15,000. When to Cut Hay. -The old question of when to cut hay for the most profit is now in order. Fhall it be cut early or late. . There has always been a lot of evi--1 dence on both sides of this subject, ami it, begins to look now as though the professors had at last found out the trouble. It seems that from patient investgation it is actually proven that while cows give the most milk from early cutting, steers fatten best on late cut, hay. Ergo j cut to suit the purpose to which you propose puuing the hay. If you are fcgn cut ciuveLwheo the I first brown blossoms make I'tieTr a““ . pearance, and timothy and other light grasses before they get too yelI low. For lieef-making all the grasses should lie as ripe as possible, not to shell the seeds when being cut /Ylwiys remember that clover hay. 1 the cow’s favorite, loses a great deal ’of its value trom being handled.— Home and Farm. Limp Wicks. Lamp wicks are as contrary as hu--1 man nature, and the one that ‘•sticks” is a nuisance calculated to make a man sweat or a woman cry. If you take a “sticking” w.ck out and pull a thread out next the selvage it will make it work beautifully. It usually sticks because it is a thread or two too wide. Farm Notes. ’ Prof. Henry says steers can be fattened on corn al ne with profit, for the concentrated grain soon burns out the d gestlvc tract, and the steer comes to make poor use of his food. (Hi meal or bian should be fed to lighten the ration. Bran is cooling J ami lightens the heavy co n meal materially. A hen that is two years old will fatten more readily than a pullet, hen e caution should be exercised in feeding corn to hens. The pullets will continue to grow until they are 15 months old. but they begin to lay before maturity. A Plymouth Rock or Brahma I’ullet should lay when 8 months old. and a Leghorn pullet at •, month?. Much depends on how they arc fed. Do not make them too ‘ fab U>i r? a e general y fed too much hay arid not enough of other things. .As a writer says, they eat enough, but the feed is not of the right quality: it fever* instead of nourishes: it stunt* them Instead of giving growth. 'File reimdy is corn and mo e bran, oats, roots oil cake, ii sseed meal, ensilage, clover, hay. and a chan e a’ a reserved blue grass pasture or in a Held of g een wheat or rye. The loss from miut in < orn is not ir?ua!lv regarded as a serious matter, or as much affe ting the profits of the crop, yet it is one of those nttle ak? we should make every possible effort to stop. The only certain wav to be rid of it is to cut and burn every affected plant as soon as disC'.vereJ. Do not cure nor feed smutty stalk?, and avoid following corn w ith corn where the disease has been at all bad. No Smoke. The man who abolishes smoke will be one of the greatest benefactors of the human r ice. Nothing else will so change the conditions of lite in our great cities. Without saying that this result is alreadj- at hand, a gieat step toward it is made by the new invention in fireplaces, says London Truth. By this system a tire can undoubtedly be produced without smoke, an I though at present a sp vial fireplace must be employed | for the purpose, there is no reason why every one oho henceforth titsup a kitchen range or a furnace should not have a smokeless one. 1 expect to see the time when every householder as well as every manufacturer will be compelled to consume his own smoke. In the meantime, however, there is the strongest inducement, short of compulsion, for doing so, for the system, like all which are based on perfecting the combustion of the fuel, gives a largely increased heat for a reduced consumption of c al. Rehearsed His Own Funeral. For novelty in the funeral line a certain Frenchman, who is a nonogenarian, takes the palm. I'or the past year he has had a workman engaged preparing his tomb, and has surveyed the w rk with loving care. On his ninety-fifth birthday, which occurred not long ago, he assembled I all his friends to the rehearsal of his funeral. A burial service was held at the church, the priest blessed his 1 empty coffin, and the whole ceremony was carried out just the same as if he were dead. After the service was over he assembled all his friends that he cared to have at bis funeral, at his home, and over a bumper of champaign made each promise that, I if alive, he would not fail to see that i all the arrangements were carried out ; the samo as at the rehearsal. ' The only help some people receive is from a man who says occasionally I that he is sorrv.

INDIANA STATE NEWS. OCCURRENCES DURING THE PAST WEEK. An Interesting Summary of the More Important Doings of Our Neighbors—Weddings and Deaths—Crimes, Casualties and General News Notes of the Stata. Hoosier Happenings I D. M. Turner, New Boss, was thrown i from a buggy, and seriously injured Eagletown will hold its twentyj fourth annual old settlers' meeting, I August 11. A Bedford mechanic has invented I a machine which makes 100 stone ■ bricks a minute from lanestone slabs. A sawmill boiler Zzploded at Pop--1 iar Grove, and Willwtm Williams was I killed. Two other men were seriously j injured. Caleb Linsey', aged 70. was killed | while crossing a --4 ; a'Hx»trT~-ri*r^ —— | Eames, six miles east of Boonville, on | the Air Line. i _Great Western Potterv Works, I Kokomo, employing 300 men, and the j Brookside < tinning Factory, working ! 6CO hands, have resumed operations. । Earl, tne 15-year-old son of William ; A enkey, a wealthy farmer, living nine I miles east of Lebanon, was kicked by । a horse and fatally injured. ~ Walter, the 13-year old son of — riTTTTiw—63^ —erf B*nr*-s •rm’.'. 11. ’, xvliile playing in a wheat V»Vn in an '1 elevator was tu.’ght in a chute and • suffocated. ’ Louis Keibler of the Soldiers’ 1 1 Home, was run over and killed by a I passenger train near the depot at Gas 1 City. He was a member of Company ’ G. Fifty-ninth Indiana Infantry. . ■ The Bedford Fair and Trotting As- ' sociation meeting opens Sept. 17. j Three thousand dollars will be offered in the speed department. Mr. Frank i Owens has succeeded Frank O. Stan- । nard as secretary of the association. Robert Cunningham and Thomas ‘ Slattery, two young men of Crawfordsville, were driving at a high rate of speed along a dark road, when suddenly they collided with a sawlog wagon with terrific force. Slattery’s brains were dashed out. and Cunningr ham received injuries from which he died. Will SheHry. who recently came to Anderson from Dayton. Ohio, was horribly mangled in the Andeison i ]Miper mill. He lost his footing while 1 oiling the engine and was thrown into a big fan that caught h'm on the arms and breast. When rescued his arms, 1 hands, find fa e were hacked almost • , into mincemeat. p At the village of Arlington, on the C . H. M I. R. R., eight miles west of Rushville, James Geraghty, jr., bought ' property for the purpose of starting a ’ i “quart’ saloou. The other aight 1 dynamite was placed under the buiids ing, which was bio vn to atoms. No 3 one was hurt, and the Arlington peof pie are breathing easier. j Joe Meyl.; a 14-year-old boy. was j run over at Evansville, by hose reel j No. 1 and almost instantly killed. He r attempted to cross a street just as the reel turned the corner, and was struck J by the horse. He fell to the ground, and before the horses could be stopped 1 the wheels of the reel passed over his head, mashing it to ielly. , An accident occurred at Point Isa- . bel. a small village a few miles north t of Elwood, which resulted in the death , of the H'-year-old son of William Compj ton. The boy. who was a parlytiC cripple, had been sent oy a neighbor ' to a blacksmith shop with an unruly * horse, to get it shod. The animal - threw the boy off on the road and ’ struck him a number of times with his fore feet, causing death. A murder occurred at Mt. Vernon recently. George Powell went home (trunk and abused his wife, and in the quariel that ensued seized her anti attempted to cut her throat. She broke ' loose from him and grabbed a club, striking her husband over the forehead. inflicting-injuries which caused his death in two hours. The woman wa? arrested. She says she acted in self-defense, and appears unconcerned. Gov. Matthews announces that the claims of the members of the militia who served in the field during the various strikes will be paid between the 15th and 20th of August. There is no fund available among the res.ources of tne State without a special appropriation. but the Governor intends to become a borrower on the credit of the State at the bank for the amount needed. The total amount required , for the payment will be nearly $40,000. Fire broke out in John Eckelbergt er’s barn, in Somerset, twelve miles south of Wal ash, and spread rapidly ' to other buildings, destroying eighteen 1 before the blazes were extinguished. ' Among those burned were five small business buildings :nd a two-story frame residence. The town has 11G lire protection. The loss will foot un between $3,000 and $4,0U0. N. Haas. drv-goods ; l 'i.'-Hn!L bi.-i .'huut ha*i M an insurance o! SSO • on hisstock. Some of the rest of the property was insured. Thomas Bird, who lives two miles ’ south of West Baden, while harvesting a few days ago. picked up a silver medal, about three inches in diameter, which shows by the inscription, which ■ is scarcely discernable, that it was , given by the United States Government to General William Henry Harrison for his bravery and gallantry in the Indian wars. What is known as the Northwestern Indian war, began > Sept. U, I*ll. and was terminated in - November of the same year. During : one of the Indian wars General Har- . risen marched with his army through j that part of the State, and probably passed over the farm on which Mr. ( 13ird now reside?. They spent the winter in camp in a ravine about six miles 1 west of that place. Many relies of the ’ march have lx.’en found, but tnis is the ■ only (ne that is really [valuable. 1 p. P. Hay. of the ( hicago University, in his report to State Geologist Gorby on the fishes of Indiana, |finds that , there an i’b varieties of fish in the , State. The report of Mr. Hay on Indiana fish is exhaustive, and will be included ; n the annual report of tne Geologist. A FORTY-ACRE field of wheat on the Pettit farm, two miles west of V abash, caught fire from a spark from a locomotive on the Wabash road. All the wheat, estimated at URO bushels, was destroyed. A fine orchard adjoining the field was also destroyed. Losi i about $1,500.