St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 13, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 13 October 1894 — Page 7

BO©©

«®1 CHAPTER 11. Roderick Jardine was not, I hope, a worse young 1 feLow tnan most others of his age, or loss soft-heated. Yet when he had fairly bade good-by to his good, tearful mother—who, he knew well, would do anything in the world for him, except let him do what he felt was best for him eif —this parting once over, he breathed more freely than he had done for many weeks. His wild-goose chase" had res Ived itself into a delit e.ato purpose, or as much so as was possible to his nature, and at his age. He had not been to Blackball—he hardly knew why, exM had thrown a i gotd many impediments in the wav of I '•pG bo rn->^>>oivinc th"/ ' she did not tike it, be giu<n-»’ r . j«iWqi he had a rnng correspondence with Mr. Black, the old factor there, who knew all the family affairs. From him Roderick discovered that there had been, half a century back, three branches of Jardines- represented by Silence Jardine, Archiba d Jardine, and Henry Jardine, his father. Thence Archiba d had suddenly disappeared abroa I, lacing his little patrimony. After many years he was heard of as a “pasteur” in some Swiss canton; no very great cnange, he having been intended f ir the Scotch Church: and he was said to bo married, with a family. But he had never revived acquaintance with either of his cousins, and w. at wore his present circumstances, whether he were a ive or dead, nobody knew. He had only been able to catch one clew whereby ho might find his cousin. Mr. Black, the B ackhall factor, a strong Free Church man, had taken some interest in a similar disruption in the Swiss Church, and in one of the controversial wi iters therein, a “pr.>fesseur” or “pasteur,” or both the good man's ideas on the subject were misty —at Neuchatel. To this M. Reynier Roderick brought a letter of introduction, but, on delivering it, found the family were still at their summer retreat in the Jui a* Mountains. So he decided to make the best of a ba 1 business, and amuse himself till they came back. Ho knew the language that was one comfort- and he was not ot the stoiid Saxon temperament, which refuses to take in any new ideas, or to see any perfection in th ngs to which it is unaccustomed. He was a true Celt, impressionable and flexible by nature, ready to love, quick to hate until the experience of 1 fe should teach caution hi the one and t durance in the other. “The world will go hard with ycu, my boy, his father had sometimes said, half tenderly, half Smsively; and Roderuk, shaking his ack curls, had oily laughed, airaid of n >thing. Nor was he discouraged or afraid now. In fact, he rather enjoyed this dropping from the c ouds —on, what soaking clouds! —into a new place and new people. Not so very new aft ta I, for when on Sunday morning he followed the dripping multitude uo the steen street which led to the cath- dra —now a Protestant church he found everything so like home that but for the langua o he could have imagined himlelf “s tting under” his mothrs favorite minister at Richerden. (inly when t ie psalm arose, to a quaint and beautiful tune, and it was a beautiful { psalm, too, for he read it out of his । neighbor's book, beginning «Grand Dien, nons te louoas, nous l’ad - rons. Seigneur.” It contrasted favorably with the nasal hymns which so tarmentad him in Scotland. It was sung not badly, especially by one pure high soprano, a few seats behind, a voice >o go >d that he vainly tried t > catch sight of the singer: and in its sweet must al French it seeme 1 to express what he misse l so often at home, the sense of cheerfulness in religion. To the last verse — Nous n'esperens, O Dieu, du’eu ta grando bonte; Tu seul peut nous alder dans tiotre adversite. Rendre noi jeurs heureux et notre ame conteate, the invisible singer b?hin I gave such pathos that it went right to his heart. I The y< ung man, called often "irreligious” by his mother, because his religion lay very deep down, longed ea nestly f r those je as heureux. that amec ntonte, and won ered if, by any means, he could attain to the like—he, : alt a one. with nobody to he p him to be good, hundreds ready to allure him to te ba 1. It was a mall thing, one of those 1 tri'ing incident, which befall us all only some of us note them and others ' <lo not: but long afterward he remem- ; bered it with a strange solemnity, like a person who. believing he was walking in his own way, on his own feet, finds out that hands unseen, unfelt, h ive been leading him all the while. Plunging back through the muddy streets “home”—what a lidiculous word—to the dreary hotel, Roderick m da up his mind to give one day s more chance to the weather, and to the absent Professeur Reynier, upon whom, a'H h s famille charmante, the gar. on dilated enthusiastically: for everybody seemed to kn >w everybody in this innocent little town. If. on the morrow, it did not cease raining, and some token did not come in answer to h’s letter and card. Rolerick resolved t > change his quarters, and try “fr< sh woods and pa tures new” —take, in short, to pleasure instead of duty, and pursue the search after this vague distant cousin no more. But the next day in rising, behold a change! And such a change! The mist had entirely lifted off from the lake. Its wide bosom lay, still gray, but motionless and clear in the soft dawn. And beyond, their intense purple sharply distinct against the b; ight amber of the sky, was the long line of Alps. Through one deep indentation, between the Jungfrau and

the Fensterhorn, the eun was slowly rising, dyeing the snows rose-color, and then, as he mounted above the cleß, pouring a sudden stream of light right across the lake—that “golden path of rays,” which always feels like a bridge whereon delivered souls might wa k—they to us or we to them—tho e that on earth we see no more. Roderick, as he gazed, was conscious of the same sensation which had come over him a few days before—that intuition of approaching 'ate—b iss or ba e: which by those who have it not is esteemed mere fancy, and supremely ridiculous; and even those who have it have need to be rather afraid of it, just as a very imaginative person would bo les^ in fear of the ghosts he beheld than of theghests he created. “Absit omen,” murmured Rod- rick, as, having stood in an ecstasy, watching tho gorgeous sunrise, he saw it melt into common daylight, as all sunrises do. in November especially. A dull, I rainy mist began once more to gather , on the distant peaks. “Another wet day. after all. Richerden itself could ! not be worse than this. Shall 1 go । home again?” But it was so ignominious to go home, having done nothing, seen noth- I Ing, that he thought he would make an effort at least to get to Borne and ; i back before the short day closed. And 1 ■ —+ ' w—smMmß he found a letter, the daintiest, most' polit ly worded billet inviting him, in the name of M. leProfesseurand Mme. Reynier, to pass tho evening at their I house. “Six o’clock, and a soiree! What simple folks they must be here'” But finding, he could be back in time, he accepted the invitation in his very liest French, and started off to the railway station, on his little bit of solitary sight-seeing. No one shared hi-carriage—abroad there is a saying that nobody travels I iirst-das except fools and Englishmen —so he admired all alone the pietur- 1 es ।ue country which skirts tho long Chain of lakes: very comfort tble, b it just a t itle dull. Not that Roderick disliked his own company; on the contrary, he preferred it to that of mist people he met —but he had hadsomuch of it lately. It would have boon rather pleasant to have s nneb >dy t ■ whom he could say that Herne was a most curious old town, with whom he could have thrown buns to the beirs. tho o important । ersonnges,“rentiers" on their own account: still better, when inquiring his way to Terrasso. and finding the view hopeless, the mountains ls«ing again “converts." he had to con tent himself with admiring the river which flows bid >w it. circling tl o p etty town like a tender arm. Still more would he have liked somebody, anybody, !>e*ide him, with whom ho could lean over the low wall and argue about the sensations of the tnan on horseback, who leaped down- Heaven knows how many feet without being killed; and w hat s >rt of sermons ho preached since, the in criplion avs. lie at on e entered the Church and was a minister in it f< r ma ty tears. “Suppcs’ I, Roderick Jardine, wore to jump down now, just to fee! a en-a tion, or create one Folly ' And laughing at himself, and hi- i’ - ordinate vexation a; toe dull gray day, the miserable mountains, the solitude, i everything! he went to food at a restaurant. and lounge awav the time till return train. Just before it started, by a sudden impulse, hoping a.aiast hope, walked back to th© Terra- e and i turned a last look in the cire, tion <>: mountains. One instuni on - wonderi (ul, I ewilderir.g instant and than — "If, after my ueath, I open mv eyes in I’uradise. 1 know. I fee! t will look ■ like thut.” Such was the th< ught whi h pas-ed throu.h Rodeiic.<s mind the only thought, for every feel ng was ab- -< rbed into mere filing drinking in I through eves and sou! a vision utterly । indiscribaole to tin se who have never seen it. The Jungfrau tn the sun-c’, spirituali ed by a clear amber glory, till it resembles nothing earthly, only that new Jerusalem c ming down from heaven like a bride prepared for her husband" —Roderick ga ed and gazed, almost out of himself wi'h ec tasy. thinking of nothing, seeing nothing, though there was a little group tw-i 'e him gazing too. Hut he never notice i them, till, stepping backward, he came against st mebo iy, and said. “Bardon, madame” —then turned and -aw it was not madame at all m: demoiselle. She had never observed him —not in the lea t. Hereyes were too lixe.l up- ! on the mountains, in entire absorption I —large, calm, blue, almost English I eye-. And her short, curly fair hair might have been English too. But when at the second Bardon she turned, there was an unmistakable foreign grace in her slight acknowlI edgment. t-he and her companion, an j older lady, exchanged a word or two, but it was French, spoken with the ! purest of accents. So if Roderick had had any hoj e of finding a country--1 Woman It faded out at once. I I sided si- the lovely vision of the Jung rn.t and I ensterhorn already had : begun to fade. Yet still the little group stood silently gazing, in a common sympathy. Roderick never looked even at his young neighbor, until, sudi denly turning, their eyes met. Both ' were full of tears: “At the first sight They have chanced eyes. •’ Beople dispute this truth, and yet it , i is a truth to some people and under . ; some c rcumstances. j Sta lied to a degree that almost an- • ; noyed him—b -wing instinctively, and I then blushing deeply to think that he L I had done so. that he had taken such a . । liberty with any strange lady,Roderick • I hurried away, having indeed waited so - i long that his swift young feet and the - j happy tardiness of Swiss rail ways alone . I saved him from losing histrain'and the i Reynier soiree. >i “But I will cme back to Berne to- ; morrow,” thought he. “It is a far k prettier town than Neuchatel; and—l I wond u' if sh • i a Bernois? 1 wonder i . if I shall ever see her face again?” lj Just then —was it possible.-—in the ) dim light a gray gown passed him and } slipped into a third-class carriage. And j he had an impression that sho wore a r gray gown. “Nonsense!” laughing at himself as 1 he lounged back in his luxurious

wagon; “a creature like that couldh’t possibly travel third-class. ” So he tried to forget her, and think only of the Jungfrau: then secondarily, of the means he must take to interest M. Reynier in his sear h for Archibald i Jardine—in wliom.it must be confessed, 1 his own interest was fast dying out. I Anything tedious, or dull, or unpleas- ‘ ant, was so now to him. He did not appreciate it at all. The train being late, ho had only , just time to dart out and fly to hia , | hotel to dress for the evening. > He had a fine face and a graceful figure, a bearing that wai “every inch the gentleman"—and manners —well, ho could not have said a harsh or dhI courteous word to a woman — any i woman, high or low, ugly or pretty, ' young or old—for his life: Thus he appeared as he entered the salon of M. i le Professeur Reynier. J It was very dimly lighted, with ; shaded lamps, so that at first Roderick I distinguished nothing; then he beI came aware of a gray-haired gentlei man, a matronly lady, and a cloud of young people of different ages, down to quite small children; of a courteous and kindly reception, and of pas ing into a salle a-manger, whore was laid o it a simple but abundant meal oorre- ‘ i spending to the “hungry tea" of Si o ch ' habit. Everything, indeed, was ex- I tremely simple—bu so pretty: from tho shiny parquet floor to the ta te i । fully dec dated table, with its dainty ' j china, flowers, and fruit. Ono mis-ed I a litt'e tho bright English tire, and ' the stove gave a certain closeness to 'ti e room—a sense of warm darkness^ which, however, was not unul^jjjumv* there wai a Tt of i:^> and youth likes m^s*^" Frony u School pl re - bigotry s thing; but dropping dow®J Hiegor the clouds upon this littleTq.. of v.vi a we k ag > was to him a mereM>ot on ; the map, ho felt himso f quite at home there he a ( ambridge man and a man of fortune more at home than he had done in Richerden soviet , al! hi-days. And when, re-entering the salon, he found a few other guestq scarcely visible in the dim light, and was Inirodueed expressl, to a “Me s Someb'Miy i from Edimlam g," who responded, with painful blushes, in tho breadeet of ; Scotch accents, he heartily wished his । own c mntryqtoopio were well, that they wore all life at home' “An 1 here, monsieur." continue I his hoet, leading him up to another lady, mi idle-age i here is one of our best friends, though but newly settled near us. who 1 doubt n>t will have the pleasure of < onverslng with you in your own tongue Monsieur Ardon — : Madame Roderick was so amuse I by tho transformation of his own name that | he scarcely caught the lady’s, but ho was too shy still either to correct the one or inquire abo t the other. “Monsieur Reynier is very polite,” said his neighbor, still syeaHng in Ire neb. "Hut he forgets that it is mv daughter who knows English so well; her papa took the greatest fains t > teach her. For mo I wa- always too busy, and too stupid, i esidcq with a slight »igh, which directed Roderick's attention from the g ntle face to the widow s mourning though not exa< t y w,-e<l> my husband loved French best, it was the language of his adopt <1 country." “He wa> not Swiss l»orn. tiien' 1 '" aske I Roderick, sitting down by her. She wa- wither tx>autifnl. nor e.on pn tty. m ver could have l>». n but the u was act arm in her .or a much. | “No, nvmsieur. ho was Eag bh. o ' rathe Scotch, naturalized here Mv ■ daughter!" but not anslatnm ,ane x - pre s the tender intonation tnat word mn fillo ”w ill you come ami toll this gentleman tho name of the place < Icm not pron unre it where your papa was b rn ” Roderick s ga o so owed madam's t > a ta I -lender girl. dre-*e4. n< t Uko her m<»thor, in back, but in pure white; no floppy, lo inry mesltu, u t a thick, soft w< ol n material, up to the throat and down t < the wrists. She ha l n .-ma 1, wed-set cm y head a tual curl . ik a chi d - an I turning quietly ro.in i she met him with t ose ea m blue eye-, tho very same eyes whi h had filled with tears at the suns t b< a ity of the Jungf au. Once m r ■ the young man started, absolut* y started. Hv s-emed taken, nnv. clutched, by the very hand of destiny itself. For on entering the room he had looked into every fre h face of t ese pleas :nt Swis- girls, vaguely hoping t • find again those wonderful b ;e eyes. They faced him in entire unconsciousness and wi’h a direct, cl ild-like simplicity, e rre ponding with the childish curls. "Mamma,” sho said, b< wing to the stranger a grave, dignified, seif p ssessed bow, more like a young English woman than these timid foreign maidens. “Bardon. lam ^ust going to sjng w.th Sophie Reynier: but 1 wi 1 come I ack presently, as Mr. Reynier desired me. and speak English with this gentleman. if he wishes it." ITO BE COSTIXVEn I A Vast Ruined ( ity. A party of scientists have recently explored the ruins of tho great city of Ancor, or Angor, situated in what are now the almost inaccessible forests of ( ambo ia. The e ruins w «>- discovered o- I' a short tme *igo, comparatively, though rumors of the existence of such a place have long been current in the country. The ruins as described would indicate that Ancor mu t have been one of the largest cities iij the world, if not the largest. Temples, palaces and edifice-of va-t size in a fine state of preservation lie i scattered over a wide territory, inter- ! mingled with mounds and masses ot crumbling stone and brick. I arge forest trees are growing upon the de- । bris and in the courts of palace and ! temple. Little is known of the history of Ancor, though it is stated that it could send forth a million or more fighting , men. The portions of the walls still ; standing are cyclopean. How it should , have fallen into such complete desue- , tudc it is difficult to conjecture. Best rieis from the Navy. , Ihe statement lias been recently ■ made that 1,200 sailors deserted from j , । the navy last year. This is in proportion of one desertion for every seven | enlisted men. The explanation is that , i we cannot keep man in the servi< e ; > without some encouragement; that the ! j mon realize there is no future for 1 I them: that they get discouraged and 1 t ; desert in order to enter some other vocation. > A woman will give up anything for i ove except the man she loves.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL thoughts worthy of calm REFLECTION. A Pleasant. Interesting, and Instructive Wesson, and Where It May Be FoundA Learned and Concise Keview of the Same. I-es«on for October 14. T TkxT -“Come ye after me. and j-^ ou to k OCu,no fishers of men ” By Galilee. O Galilee, sweet Galilee, Where Jesus loved so much to be; <> Galilee, sweet Galilee, tome slug thy song aualn to me. How like a song it presents itself ^ ,j little Sea of Tiberias! Rising midden v out of the heart of the hills, like a sigh or a song of the heart; fed from unseen or half seen sources, like the hid fountain, oi emotion in tho soul, now gently lap- I ing the sand at our feet, now boisterous with wave like changing moods of the spirit of mankind, spreading wide to catch the warm sunshine or be tossed by the wind, a mirror to reflect both bue sky and gray cloud. And what is the song of old Gennesaret? It sings of healing and helping hands, of feet mighty to tread uown its furv. but b autiful to bring good tidings of peace; it echoes and re-echoes with tho cry of evil spirits cast out, and whls^■ers soft, in ths ilceeiits of one who PeacQr-Ko still." and to his own, bo not nil aid,” and to the mu'gjpTMf, “Come.” Sing them over ngntn to me, Wonderful words of life. "The people pressed upon him.” This is the same word used ot the tempest that "lay" or pressed upon Bail! and his fellow mariners in the midst of the storm-tos ed Mediteranean Acts 27: 20v it means resistless eagerness, importunity. The people have always been anxious to hear Jesus. It is also the same word, in tho original, a-is foun I at Luke 23: 21, who o the Jews were ’instant” t .oy pr> s-ed upon "with loud voices.” In this latter ca oit is the eagerness of : pit<> and cruelty. Q fickle multitude. “Ho saw two shipj standing b,- the lake. So yr<>babiy did the others, b t Josh- saw what others did not, an opportunity hero to preach the gospel, a pulpit for its pr. elnmation. O, that w ' had eyes for su -h things as had Jesus (ios) el wagons, uo-pel tents, g. ships. Tre captain of our salvation himsdf sei us tho fashion. "And he entered into <no of tho ships and prayed hinmn that ho would thrust out a little from ti e land." So he cvmos into our crafts our oreupations. He enters into this ship of yours to sanctifv and transfigure it; henceforth it is a hoi, thing. Ho takes y u with him and ho #avs, hiking at our carnal an I wordy msp moment*, "Thrust out u*t a htt e, out in your capacity as a t -her. a iw reliant, a carpenter. Out with your ship your shop out a little more in tho sight of tho people. Who knows but th t Via* et.T - first rva teat Hut I ot«' wa* e ual to it by tho power of God ho did n t flinch. Out in the eves < f hi* neighb rs and friends ho pulled his b>at and there in the *hi <he sat, Peter and his Master, while the Master taught tho m ititu Ie Yc*. and how much newer! d teaching for them there was in thut dutiful Iwndtng to t c oars, that ueighbir f theirs sitting there on the I cnc e* Is not this th« Imp. rt of the «■ rd at Sets I: It, say nothing against it?" They had nothing to say And m W is he etjual to the next tost? “iauibh tilt into the deep, and let down your net* f< r a draught.” Just a I:f. evva .et ing at the fii>t "M st r. we have toiled ail t: e night and have taken n ’hiug ” A moment’s trembllng doubt: Bote L feet are ipping. Then a look into the eyes of the Master; as it were, a hand stretched f rth, and n w a noble word of faith: "Ne er-thele-s at tl y w, rd I will let down tho net." A di.ow follow- ui ii’s toward: “When they ha 1 done this toy enc L-ed a gseat multitude of li-h s.” “And th< i nets brake >o did their arms. Thev were not ready lor s .eh a cutch. \Ve never are. Our faith is bat weak at tho be-t; Give t od the glory. They had to beckon to their j artners which were in the other -hip that they should c ano and help them. " So hie -ing spreads. Just a little roviva intere-t in one church, faith o ti wh his garment's hem, and present 1. all the churches of the community are tugging at the f ill nets—something lor all. "So they began to sink.” Well, never mind, let them sink. It is not the boats we care so mu h about: it is the sis i we are after. The ships can be gotten into trim shape later iv-t i ow, get the fish to land. Wo Id to God there might be some such comparison I in our tine shipping to day, clean nets soiled and breaking, stout, hand o.ne boats nigh to sinking. Let them go under, upholstery and all: but the fish, the fish. Get some fish to shore! And now the greatest result of all. Peter on his knees, so also James and John, the son* of zel edee, "which were partners with Simon. ” The are partners also in fealty to the Christ. Ther - they are at his feet. It is blunt, oi tspokon 'ohn McNeill who says of this 1 g eat haul, “Then Peter tumb’ed into the same net as the fish were in, and the Lord got tb< m all.” A.nd we hear our Savior saying to those who are his now in vo y truth, “For henceforth thou shalt catch men.” Verily, are not wo all a part of that “catch.-” If so, let us prove it as did the di*ciples here when "they forsook all, and followed him.” Throw the gospel seine: go a fishing. It is your opportunity: here stands ( hrist by the seaside, in you ■ boat, it may be. It is for you to sav, “Lord, I will.” Next Losson.- “A Sabbath in ( aper- | nautn.”—Mark 1: 21-::4. APHORISMS OF NAPOLEON. There is nothing terrible in death. The only victory ove" love is flight. Words pass away, but actions remain. Where flowers degenerate man cannot live. We should wash our dirty linen at I home. We must laugh at man to avoid cryimr for him. I failed; therefore, according to all justice, 1 was wrong.

EXECUTING AN INJURED FLY. How a Quartet of Insects Put a HalfBurned Brother to Death. Flies are not usually accredited with great in tell gence, but an illustration observed last night goes far I to disprove any idea that they aie ' j entirely bereft of thought It was near midnight and a writer for the Philadelphia Call laid aside his pen i lor the day, but was constrained to remain at the desk by the strange ac- | Wons of a quartet of Ilies One un- ‘ fortunate buzzer had flown too near the gaslight and had been so badly singed that he could not fly. Quite helpiess, he lay on his back struggling to overturn himself. He almost succeeded, but so painful were his efrorts that mercy suggested the speedy । killing ot the insect. But the manirest agitation of four unusually large files prevented a hasty execution. In great excitement the quartet ci.cled , around the unfortunate, remaining I within a radius of twelve inches. ( One pair seemed to touch heads, and tn an instant one of me two went savagely for the injured brother. After contending with him for a brief time the first helper left, when,without lapse of many seconds, the second of the pair went through the same performance. Here was a puzzle that reou red close study to solve. I Were the flies striving to aid the sufferer, or did they want to kill him, either because of his uselessness or to relieve him fiom pain? Seventeen times were ,-ombats for such they soon appeared to ie—had. The lly, lying on his back, fought and apparently sought to keep off the big insects. As near a* the eye could determine, they seemed to strive to reach the neck of the suffc er. There was a short, sharp light each time. A tew grains of su.ar were placed on the desk, but the lighters were too greatly absorbed to notice them. More powwows en-ued, and three attacks followed. Then the foil, were ilightened by an attempt to catch them, (‘nelly, not of the quartet, was captured and placed under a glass with the wingless member. Five minutes the stranger flew around wildly, not going near the burned fellow. The glass was removed, and in the course 1 of ten minutes four flies were again 1 on the scene, trying to kill the small insect. It was then nearly 1 o’clock a. m., an 1 the observer, failing to inveigle anv into a trap, retired. Eaily in the morning the fly that caused all the trouble was found dead, with the grains of sugar lying around turn undisturbed. Disrespect ful Prince. When Louis, Fiince of ( onde, who afterward i>e ame a great general of France and one of the most famous men of the seventeenth century, was a boy at school at the Academy Benjamin, he ex died in gymastics and also in a certain kind of per-onal audacity. As the future head of one of the must powerful princely houses of France, he was much courted and ■ toadied to”—a circumstance which did not greatly plea e his boyish disposition. One day he was met on the road to school by the village justice, who made biri an extremely low b w. and ren ainmg io the bowing attitude, began a sort of oration tu the young prince Louis did not care to go away and leave the functionary in th- attitude, but he did worse. Placing both han is on the shoulders of the obseqiibuis townsman, he umped dear ( ver him. a ia leap fr g, and brought up behind him. I'p<m this tho justice turned al ‘lit., bowed again, but not so low as before, and recummencea his oration; whereupon the young prince once more put his hands on the great man’s -boulders and leaped over his head. This time the orator did not resume bis d scourse, but went down the street grumb mg. At this time Conde was 16 years old; ami when we read, in connection with the incident, that in the very next year he was given an important military and political command in Burgundy, we are not surprised to learn that he became an arrogant and tyrannical man. All hiscircum--tan es. and education had tended to spoil him. Sugar and Diamonds. It can now Lo said with perfect truth that a lump of sugar may oe turned into diamonds. N t all the I substance of the sugar will enter into i the <omposition of the gems, but only the carbon which it contains. Sugar consists of carbon united with oxygen and hydrogen in the proportion to form water. The carbon can easily I e separated out ami in some of the recent ex- : periments or the production of diamonds this sugar carbon has been employed. The diamonds so tar produced are very small and destitute of commercial value: but still they are real diamonds, and the । hemical triumph a hieved would be no greater intrinsica ly if they were as large as the Kohinoor. Os course it is not meant by what has been said above, that carbon prepare 1 from sugar is the. only carbon used in the ex] eriments The graphite from which lead pencils are made I serves the purpose ust as well, and still other forms of carbon may be j employed. The hope is now held out that an improvement in the process of manui factoring diamonds may soon be effected whereby the necessity of dissolving the eat bon in molten iron may be dispensed with, and /he rei quired combination of great pressu o i with great heat may be brought about by some such operation as squeezing the carbon between redi hot metal plates. It is either a very great or a very i gcod man that can command the । praises of an er ' j

ABOUND A BIG STATE. gRIEF COMPILATION OF INDIANA NEWS. What Our Neighbors Are Doing —Matters of General and Local Interest—Marriages and Deaths—Accidents and Crimes—l’ersonal Pointers About Indianians. Minor State I^ems. Farmer B. F. Clouser was fatally injured in a runaway at Windfail. Jacob Emmert & Sons’ large flouring mill at Laurel burned. Loss $15,000. James Gresham, a first cousin of Secretary of State Gresham, fell dead in a drug store at Jeffersonville. Nearly every person in Rockville has signed the temperance pledge during the Francis Murphy meetings. Joel S. Denny, prominent farmer near Salem, was stricken with apoplexy in a field. Died in a few hours. V. m. Mitchell, while stealing a ride on a Big Four freight train, had his leg crushed between tho couplers near Carbon. The large general store of Walton & \\ hisler, at A.lanta. burned, involving a loss of $10,000: nearly covered by insurance. i The headquarters of a gang of Lake Shore freight rfar robbers were found near South Bond. About SBOO worth of stolen clothing and dry goods was recovered. W AI-TEH. (iRAYEL, serving a six months’ sentence in the Columbus* jail for murderously a saulting Am-' bJose Dillman, was pardoned by the Governor. Albert Thomas’ F-months-old child. Martinsville, bled to death, from a slight cut in its n outh. This is the fourth child in the family to die of hoemopholia. At Muncie the 2-year-old daughter of John Lawrence drank nearly an ounce of carbolic acid and died. The child tho-. ght the poisonous stuff was water until her stomach was as if on fire. J. A. Lambert. General Manager of 1 tho Buckeye Manufacturing Company, at Anderson, has let contracts to Anderson eon rae ors for the construction of a foundry that will give work to 125 men additions’, making 300 in ail. A man of the name of William Mitchell, aged about 35 years, whose home is believed to be at Seymour, was crushed to death by a Big Four train at Carbon. Mitchell was beating his way from Indianapolis to Terre Haute, when the train was slackened and both his legs were caught between the dead wood. Albert Walls, employed in the Vaneamp packing house, Indianapolis, attempted to repair a small drainage pipe during which he leaned over a two inch line of s afting. A urotruding bolt caught his clothing and ho was whipped around the shaft until he was literally but slowly beaten to death. Frank Fiske, a resident of Fort Wayne, employed as track layer on the new railroad now being built into Fort Wayne, died of typhoid fever and was buried by the county authorities, although the Fort Wayne Medical College made a demand legally for the body. The Court granted a writ of replevin and the body was exhumed and is now at the college ready for dissec- . tion. Residing happily together near Memphis, Clark County, are Philip ana Marv Stutz. Mr. and Mrs. Stutz have had a rather remarkable matrimonial experience, having been three times divorced and each time remarried after a short season, and the last time they again ventured to join their fortunes was last week in New Albany. Mr. Stutz is a well to-do farmer, and that his wife is fully able to take care of herself is evidenced by the fact that she was conducting a prosperous millinery business in New Albany when last marrie 1. They both declare that they nave been separated for the last time. Nineteen loaded freight cars on the Lake Erie and Western broke from a train at tho top of a hill three miles from Lafayette and ran back to the station, where the Chicago Big Four passenger was standing, ready to start tor Indianapolis. Yardmaster Harry Brighty. of the Big Four road, fortunaiely turned a switch and threw the wild cars on a s ding, and they crashed into the ladies’ waiting room, demolishing it and piling themselves in a heap. The only casualty was that to i Harry Washburn, a hackman. He was > caught by the wreck and severely in- ; jured. His horses were killed and I buried beneath the debris. He was : partially buried, but officers Rinard* and Powell dug nim out His leg Is hurt, and it is feared he has internal injuries. The prediction that the police bad at last secured the guilty parties who wrecked the Big Four passenger train ! from New York at Fontanet, near Terre Haute, on the night ot July 13. resulting in the inst nt death of Engineer Mohrman and Fireman Flick, has been fully verified. George Roberts and Kogie McDonald, two of the prisoners. have already confessed, and now Wm. Sourwine, the man who actually threw the swit h. made a full confession. The other two suspects are implicated by all throe confessions, so there is no doubt of the conviction jof the whole gang for the heinous crime by which two innocent trainmen I lost their lives. By all their confessions it appears they were enthusiastic union men. an;l had become so thoroughly imbued with the Debs strike idea that thev started in to wreck a freight train carrying Sheriff Stout and his assistants, who had been at Fontanet all day suppressing riotous demonstrations against the railroad company. They threw the switch to catch the freight, but instead it caught the fast passenger train. The Randolph County Veteran Association will hold its reunion in Winchester Thursday. Oct. 11. followed by a camptire in the evening. / The report sent out from I ittsburgh that every tin-plate plant in the I niteu States would close down indefinitely, is untrue as regards the American tinplate plant of Elwood. It will be kept steadily in operation, it only closing down three mills in order to i naK some repairs, and these will slat 1 a^ain next week. All the rest of tn , plant will be kept in full operation pending these repairs, and the repot j is a taorieation