St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 21, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 14 December 1895 — Page 7

Jta»«K*'-- ^1 sg o2^ ©®!i Wetllls^^

CHAPTER XVI. Everything was dark and strange to Taut Lowther, coming in as he did from the glaring tropic sunshine, but he rushed forward excitedly at Aube’s cry, and dimly made out a figure in white, whose hands were eagerly stretched out to him, and, obeying the natural instinct of the moment, he clasped that figure in his arms. ••Aube, my darling!" he cried. She shrank from Paul's embrace trembling ami confused, as Nousie looked wildly on. and a loud, angry ejaculation came from Saintone, which made l’aul turn upon him. seeing more distinctly now. But this glance at the stranger was only momentary, and ho turned again to Aube, looking wonderingly at Nousie, then at the place, and back at Aube, whose hand he still retained. “I could hardly find you." he said. “I ha vo only just landed from the packet. “Mr. Lowther!" faltered Aube, as she gazed at him wildly. "Why are you here?" "Can you ask that?" he said. Then, with his eyes wandering once more about the place, “but my dearest girl, why are you here? This gentleman will you introduce me?" As the words left his lips Saintone could contain himself m> longer. Halfmaddened before Aube’s firm refusal, the sight of this stranger who had been so warmly welcomed roused him to a pitch of fury, and ho raged forth: "Aube! Who is this man?" “My friend, Mr. Paul Lowther, sir,’ said a sharp voice from one who had come forward unheeded, "and my name is Durham—Englishman—at your service. AV ho are you?” Saintone glared at the speaker in astonishment. but turned back directly to l’aul, who changed color, as he said: “I beg pardon if I have come unceremoniously, but I thought this was a cabaret. Mademoiselle Dulau. in heaven's name, why do I find you in a place like this?" Aube's lips parted, but her amotion checked her utterance, and she crept to Nousie’s side, catching at her arm for support. “Oh, I beg pardon," cried Paul, hastily, as he struggled with the undefined apprehension which attacked him. “You Somewhere near. * You will Tnf- ■ -<— to -Madame uulau." He bowed slightly to Nousie?"whose eyes were fixed upon him angrily. “And this lady," he said, “is ?" There was a pause, during which Aube's lips struggled for utterance, and Nousie stood motionless and listening as a prisoner awaits the death sentence from the judge. It was from no shrinking at her task, for Aube's heart beat loyally and warmly then. She had chosen her path, and. martyr-like, she was prepared to pace it to the end, but no words would come. She glanced at Nousie, and saw that she was white and trembling. She could see Paul's color coming and going, but the agitation of neither broke the -pell which bound her, and her eyes wandered to Saintone, who was gazing a! her fixedly, with a sneering laugh faintly appearing about his lips. That aroused her just as Paul said again rather sternly: “Is it your servant? Am I wrong in asking what I did?" “No," said'Anbe. simply, as she passed her arm round Nousie’s waist. “Mr. Lowther, this is my dear mother. Madame , Dulau. Mamina." she continued, quietly. ■ “this is Mr. l’aul Lowther; dear Lucie's ; brother; and his friend." She held out her hand to Bart, who I drew a long breath after watching her keenly. "Yuu bravo little darling," he said to himself, as he took her hands, and then Jiloud. "I bring you dear Lucie’s love. My dear Miss Dulau, I am glad to see you j again. Madame Dulau, lam afraid we have taken you by surprise." He held out his hand now to Nousie. who drew a long breath, too. and caught it eagerly, and held it for a few moments, ; smiling pleasantly in a face whose frank I honesty impressed her. "Yes,” she said, quietly; “it is a great ^^^ynrise to us both. Lucie's brother and are welcome to Pan! seemed dumf rinded, but at last, evidently suffering painfully, be held out bis hand to Nousie, conscious that under , her mask of calmness, Aube was suffer- j Ing agony, and watching her, wondering ; what she would say or do. Nousie’s brow wrinkled and her face i puckered a little with a deprecating smile ! as she looked at the extended hand, but she did not take it. It was not from j malice, but Paul's words had cut deeply, and she could not help saying with a , slight shrug of her shoulders: “You wish to shako hands with me?" “Yes,”.stammered Paul. "With Aube's ? mother. 1 beg your pardon. I did not know." "No," she said, simply; "how could you? lam not a lady. Only the keeper of this poor place.” She laid her hand in his for a moment, and as his own was once more free, Paul looked confusedly from one to the other. His eyes lit last upon Saintone, who stood watching them savagely, and as the young men’s gaze encountered, Paul’s ■confusion passed away, for instinctively he knew that he was face to face with a rival. "Will you come in, gentlemen?” said Nousie, quietly. “Mademoiselle Lucie's friends are very welcome hero. Aube, dear, show the way. Monsieur Saintone,” she continued, “I will not ask you to join vis. after what has passed.” “I understand,” said Saintone, speaking to Nousie, but with his eyes fixed on Paul in an insolent-looking store. “I’m going now, Nousie, but I shall come again.'* (

He nodded at Aube, who looked at him calmly, and walked toward the door, but turned back directly. “Ah,” he said, “I really forgot. Did 1 have anything to drink?” As he spoke he threw a coin on the front of the buffet. “No. Monsieur Saintone,” said Nousie. calmly, ami she took up and held out the piece. “Keep it," lie said, contemptuously, and the blood Hushed in Aube’s cheeks at his manner toward her mother. Then in a whisper Saintone continued: “Send those men away while their lives are safe." Nousie looked up at him sharply, and he returned tin* look as if there were a peculiar and well understood import to all this. “1 am one of yon now." he continued in the same tone, “and I am not going to be east aside like this.” CHAPTER XVII. Baek in the evening, through the dark shadows of the great leaves, where great moths flitted over the cloying scented flowers, and the fireflies scintillated among the bushes as if there bad been a shower of tiny stars. “It's maddening, I tell you, maddening!" cried Paid, hoarsely. “Oh, I don't know,” replied Bart. “Rather warm though, here. Paul, old chap, if we stop here long 1 shall take to collecting. Look at that moth. Why, he’s big as a bat." “Are you listening to what 1 say?" cried Paul, angrily. "My poor darling! । It is horrible. The woman deserves , “What woman? That black servant?" “No. man. no; the mother." “Oh, come, 1 say, don't speak like that of our kind hostess." , "But to send lor that poor girl home from such a life ns hers to a common pothouse frequented by a pack of niggers ” “I'm afraid this delicious night air is exciting you, Paul, o’J man. It isn't a low pothouse, but a pleasant roadside auberge or cabaret, kept by a very sweet ' pleasant woman." , “Bart, you're mad." “Not quite, old fellow; but you are get ting on. Now be reasonable, ami put the ease fairly. Here's a nice sweet creature left q wjdow; she has a dear little ehtM n 10.-I nrot she nays to herself, *Thiplaee is not good enough. I'll send my darling to Paris to be well taught ami brought up. Never mind the expense.' Well, she does this, and at last thinks small blame to her—that she should like to have her daughter back, ami she semis for her. Here's the history in a nutshell a cherrystone if you like." "But. Bart, my darling Aube. Man. man. would you like to see Lucie there?" "Honestly, no. But if Fate had placed her there, she would be Lucie still, ami I should not howl about it." "You'd bo mad as 1 am." “Not 1. dear b.>y not half. I Laow what I should do?’ "Yes; what? Don’t talk so slowly." "Marry her, and got her awav as soon as I could.” "Os course, yes. She must be got away at once. There was that black-looking j fellow there, too. It's of no use for you ! to contradict mo: he's in love with her, ; ami as jealous of me as can be." “I’m not going to contradict you. 1 ■ should say he is that wa.v. Well, no j blame to him. Any fellow would tall in । love with her. I should if there was m> i Lucie in the world." I “She must be got away at once, ami j as for that half-nigger fellow, ho had i better mind." "So had you." said Bart. "But if that man goes to the house 1 shall shoot him." “Mind he don't have the first pop at yon. old man. Recollect that the nigger is lord paramount here; bo ruled by mo. and don't do anything rash. If you get showing fight our lives will not be worth an hour's purchase." "But look here " "I do, old fellow. I'm insured heavily in a good office with leave to travel, and i the officials were so kind and friendly । that I wouldn’t for the world behave badly to them." "What do you mean?" “Get killed and have my heirs, executors, administrators and assigns come i upon them so soon." "Now. my dear Bart, is this a time for your beggarly attempts at wit?" : "Best I've got in stock, obi fellow. But come, be reasonable. It's hard, I know, to find that the lady we had • stamped a lady is not a lady after all. But she's a precious, nice, sweet woman, wonderfully proud of her child, and that i black Cherub worships her. and so do the i niggers all about." "I low do you know?" | "She told mo. There, lid's have a cigar i and a quiet think. You are, of course, j upset by all this, and not in a position to I judge calmly. To-morrow we shall see things in a very different light." As Bart spoke he glanced behind him once or twice, trying to pierce the darkness. “I suppose you are right," said Paul, sighing; "but I shall never rest till I have her away from that wretched place.” Bart paused, took out his cigar ease, and offered it to Paul. “No, thanks. I can't smoke.” “Yes; take one,” said Bart, in a low voice; "and as we are lighting up give a good look around without moving or seeming to notice anything.” “What do you mean?" said Paul, taking a cigar. “We shall have to try the native weeds.” said Bart; “these are nearly the last. Ready for a light? Now, then.” He struck a match and held it up to his friend’s cigar; then struck another to hold to his own. “Fancy—being followed—heard a rustle —at the side,” he said} in the intervals of

puffing. “Be cool. Are you nligh -— “Yes.” »?•» “Then come along.” “See anything?” he continued,! few moments. laster a “I thought I saw the gleam ol thing bright.” * some"Nigger's eyes.” .said Bart. “Il black face. We’re being watch! gaw n man. Let's got home to shelter. Id, old lake any notice. It may mean «Don't whore wo go.” > o Bee Nothing more occurred (ill they rW the [dace where they had left thi^dj^d gage, ■when Paul said, uneasily: K. j U g. “Think that meant anything?” 2 "Yes. Black shadows,” replied > “I don’t like weapons, old fcllot^n nr ^ we are neither in well-policed Par® within call of the Bow street bobkß nol . let's unpack our revolvers, and takejE. so with us when wo go out.” W| K , ]n Paul nodded, and then relapsed iV thoughtful state. E. () a "And 1 laughed at him when he® posed bringing these tools. Said a ißprowould be good enough for me,” nßiicet Bart, as he unpacked his portmamused and took out a brand-new six-shoot> ton ” turn it over. "Well, if I have hope I shall not bit l’aul—or myselE j don't think I could hit any une PlSwkf I tried.” I An hour later he was fast nslcep3 nn( ] Paul was lying thinking, tossing ishly from one side, till getting intc nn easier position, ho lay watching the s |. trs througli the open window, and thinl j, of the events of the day. It was horrible! That sweet, ge a || e girl, brought up as a lady, fresh f , n)n the seclusion of the convent, to be f denly brought to such a home as tl rlt and evidently persecuted by the man had encountered there. "I’ve made an enemy already,” thou; q )t Paul, and he began thinking of th j walk back to the town, past houses, dßc ted here and there among unbrageous foG age, which offered plenty of eoncealmi^^ for any one who chose to dog their stejm And it was not fancy, he knew, for was convinced that the glance he ht ( j ' seen when the match was struck wL ; from a man's eye. Bart had seen a fa'L and it was evident that they hud been f< j' lowed. But for what? He had just reached this point in h : s musings when he held his breath, f< ls there was a faint rustling sound beneat ] ( the window. It ceased directly, and Paul breathe j freely again, attributing the sound t some nocturnal animal—a rat perhapt Then he thought of the position of th j house where they were staying—a larg two-tloored building nearly covered witl ’ luxuriant creepers that would form I harbor for wild creatures such as wen I probably abundant there. .Inst then the rustling sound was re I ; peated. and it struck him that it was like [ a hand grasping ami shaking a stem of j the tree trained all over the house. The sound ceaaed again, bnt he lay lis-1 toning to be quite startled, for the noise | camo again accompanied by a faint I breathing, and. as he lay on his side! watching the window, something darker] than the darkness appeared in the open-| ing. and he knew that a hand ami arm | hud been passed in to grasp the window j sill. The noise w hich followe«l waaj^jJ doulttidly caused by a foot seeking for al resting place; and us this rustling censed.! somethingslnrk and round slowly eelipited a star on the horizon and he dimly made out the contour of a head. Paul's hand stole beneath his pillow, where he had intended to place his revidver. but he remembered now that with his thoughts on Aube, he had forgotten it, and it lay on the table. Without a moment's hesitation he sprang out of bed. seizisi it. making directly after for the window, but on reaching it all was perle< tly s ill below; and : though he peered out into the garden, and 1 tried to distinguish the paths and shrubs, ’ al! was black there; and nt hist eoutent- | ing himself with closing the window, he । was about to return to his couch when Bart spoke. "What's the matter?” he said. Paul told him. "Shouldn't wonder, old man." said Bart. "We dropped into a nice place; i but we can prove it as soon ns it's light.” It was nearly morning wben Pau] fell | aslee|». and not much after sunrise when he started into wakefulnes. to find the window op. it and Bart [.eering out. "Halloa! Awake?" said the latter. "I say. you were right. Someone climbed up here last night. Ihe creeper's torn just , below, and there tire the mtuks of two ■ wide-toed feet on the soft earth." "What do you think it means?" I "Don't know. Pilfering, [terhaps. I I h.qie it does not mean the knife. Say. old ■ chap. I'd have practiced for this at a , pistol gallery if 1 had known.” (To be continued.) She Was Cautious. Here is an example of a woman as a diplomatist. Airs. A. had gone away from home for a day's visit. During her absence her fellow townswoman. Mrs. 8.. decided, after the pleasant, rural, self-inviting fashion, that she would spend the night with Airs. A. ' In spite of Airs. A's absence the thing l was easy to accomplish, for the latchkey- of the t wo houses were alike. Airs. ' B. therefore effected an entrance, and found the bouse deserted. "Oh, well, I'll just wait till Airs. A. gets home.’ she said to herself. Night came. Still no Airs. A. "I won't light a lamp,” philosophized Airs. 8.. "because seeing a light in the house might scare Airs. A. clear out of her senses.” So the unexpected guest sat in the dark awaiting the arrival of her hostess. At last the rattle of .Mrs. A. s key was heard in the door latch. She entered the house and slowl.v made her wa.v to the “sit-ting-room,” of course unconscious that there was another human being within breathing range. "Don’t be frightened, Airs. A..’ suddenly spoke a voice from the darkness. "It's only Airs. B. I didn't light a lamp for fear you'd be scared, you know, and ” But the diplomatic Airs. B. never finished her sentence, for just here .Mrs. A. fell on the floor in a dead faint. “It was queer she should have been so scared,” said Airs. B. afterward, “for I took every precaution not to frighten her."—New York Sun. The Mormons received this name from the book of .Mormon, which was claimed by Joseph Smith to be a revelation to himself. They themselves reject the name, and call themselves "The Church of the Latter Day Saints of Jesus Christ."

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE LESSON. Reflections of an Elevating Character -Wholesome Food for Thought— Studying the Scripturat Lesson Intelligently and Profitably. Lesson for Dec. 15. Golden Text—“ There is a friend that stieketh closer than a brother.”—Prov. 18: 24. The lesson for next Sunday is found in I. Sain.. 20:32-42. The subject of the lesson is given as "David and Jonathan.” It might more properly have been named Jonathan and David. For Jonathan as yet has the pre-eminence and is the chief actor. It is his love that startles and surprises us, and the quality of his condescension anil steadfastness give us here the major suggestions we have in this lesson of fhc grace that was in Christ Jesus. If there is any approach to a messianic type here picture and hint at least there is—it is Jonathan who particularly affords it. But in bis own way David also is an __m'u»n 1 ion of the Son of Alan. Only in this case it is the sufferings and afflictions of the Christ, the anointed, of God that are typified or illustrated for us. Coming with the manifest token of God's approval, lx»th from the Bethlehem sheepfold and the battlefield at Shochoh, David is rejected and maligned and persecuted by Saul. He has need to resort to the fields and woods, and waiting for his ]>romised crown, he has, indeed, like the Man of Nazareth, no place to lay his head. It is to bo noted that in these efforts to escape from the imdi -e of Sani. Davi.l is providentially thrown in with Samuel, who has passed from the sphere of active participation in civil affairs, but at Ramah seems to be still exercising his prophetic functions. It is a kind of a school of the prophets, and hero, doubtless. David is given some of that sort of tutelage and training in the high themes cf divinity as may m-bly fit him to speak to the people, ns he afterwards does in his matchless Psalms. It was not wasted time. God use- affliction for the betterment of his saints and the advancement of his lofty purposes. I lio circumstance of the archery in the field was but an item of this devotion. Jonathan's pastime had a serious purpose in it, ami hi- thought was of David. His jMeasure was with this one of tho the sons of men dishonored ami disowned nt the misled court of Saul. His coni versation with the lad was very truly I ov t his head. It was direct. .! to David, | hiding there. He spoke indeed in paraI bles, that, hearing, the l.oy might hear I and might not understand. But David, j the man of his heart, understood, and | oven Is'fore they revealed themselves stdI ly to each other, these two heart com- | Hides were holding happy converse in the I field. Changing slightly the figure, there I is a language of the heart which affection lintorpretM, and in the life of earth and ai^e swift speech of the mart we hav* r eppurf unities to s. nd messages heaven- ■ ward. \ .-a, all words and arrows are for Tthe bringing in of his kingdom in all hearts. But speech is not always to be thus in pnrnbles nor intercourse nt a distance. Presently Dat id and Jonathan are together am] their love overflows. 111 list rat ions. Love i« the uppvrmo-t ami prevailing thought in any suggestion of Dav id and Jonathan, love and loyalty. A love that constrains us ami holds us true. It is beauliful to seo Jonathan lontinuing on in his love for David, although he knew that David’s exaltation m.aut, in a en-e, his own abasement. It was unselfish, self forgetting love. Constan! love. It has its highest illustration ami its crown in the chara. ter of Christ, who for <>ur sakes become p« .>r that we through his poverty might be made rich, and who loved men still <v. ii when they were jmtting him upon the cross. That is a wonderful expression at John 13: 1: "Having loved his own, he loved them unto the end.” We have written back "I it in our own Bible a ring or circle. It was love to the end, not so much in tho sense of termination as of completion. Yes. ami love to the finish, the "It is tinished" of Cavalry, and so we have [Hit beside the eir< let the sign of the cross. He "knew that his hour was come that he should depart out of the world unto the Father” to high celestial companMnshi[>s, yet he remained true to his earthly loves. He knew "that the Father had given all things into his hands” and he could do as he would with men. Then, said ho, I will just go on loving them. He knew "who should betray him,” who should forsake him, who should lead him to the tree, yet he loved them still. Wonderful love of Jesus. Christ had coinpassion on the multitude, the fickle sometimes heedless multitude, as sheep without a shepherd. "Because,” lit says, “they famished and were seatjter<>d abroad as sheep having no shepherd.” (Matt. !•: 3G.) That was the ;way shepherdless sheep might be ex|peetcil to act. They were “tired and lay down,” as the margin says. AV ell, they were shepherdless and had lost their way, had worn themselves out with vain seeking for pasture. He had compassion on them. And »hoy were “scattered about.” How like shepherdless sheep, the unchurched, unfolded masses. What shall we do with them, for them? Do what Jesus did. Love them, love them back. The telling quality of the love of David and Jonathan was on their identification of interests. Each came into the other's life with a whole surrender and selfubandon. Jonathan was not considering his kingly origin. lio linked himself in bonds of closest sympathy with the man of the sheepfold, albeit'God's man of destiny. It is the only wa.v to do for men. Be one with them and so lift them and be lifted yourself. Next Lesson "The Birth of Christ."— Luke 2: 8-20. The Better Watch. "Aly watch kepes better time than your watch,” bragged Ethel. "Maybe it does, but mine's faster than yours,” said Jack. “Aline can go an hour in forty minutes.”—Harper's Bazar. No Hope for Him. Old Gent—When fortune knocks at your door, young man, you want to be ready. Young Gent—l haven't any door; I board.—Detroit Free Press.

TIDES SAVE MILLIONS. bo Work for New York that Costa Baltimore Money. New York is blessed in a peculiar way twice a day by the rising and, falling of the tide. By cleaning our docks and slips the tide saves the city millions of dollars every year. It carries away countless tons of floating refuse and purifies the sewage of thousands of pipes whose ends, projecting beyond the wharves, discharge into the river and harbor. Low lying seaboard cities, such as Baltimore, for instance, are not so fortunate in this respect as New York, and when one reads of the never-end-ing struggle against refuse in th. harbors of other cities he appreciates in a new degree one more advantage of the metropolis. To keep clean the water in the docks requires a big force of men in Baltimore, where early every morning squads of men In boats and scows sail around the harbor, skimming from the surface of the water the refuse that has accnmulated in the twenty-four hours previous. From five to fifteen carloads of watermelon and cantaloupe rinds, pieces of wood and bits of cotton are gathered dail.v just now. T he skimming force gets to work just before sunrise and finishes Rs work before the real traffic along the shore front begins. The men are armed with long-handled scoop-nets, with which they gather every floating thing that is out of place. It must be that Baltimore inhabitants make a point of sitting on thei wharves when they eat watermelons, else how could fifteen car-loads of rinds accumulate in twenty-four hours? Baltimores skimming gangs scoop up, too, considerable refuse that is thrown overboard by steamers and other boats that sail in (he harbor. < Around New York's water front refuse Js dumped overboard from boats, ships end ocean liners in prodigious quantities. Ihe stuff floats around for a few hours, but after an ebb of the tide the water is clear and pure. It is fresh from the ocean, for the fall of the tide at New York -from four to six feet—is so great that the whole bod.v of water around the city is changed twice a day. New York Recorder. Told by a n English Traveler. Before entering the house of the royal prime minister of Korea. I proceeded to take off my shoes, as I always complied with the customs of the country; but the prince, having somehow been informed that such was not the custom in England, insisted on my abstaining from doing so. I had already taken off one shoe, and was proceeding to untie the other when, catching me by the arm, he dragged me in. You can imagine how comical and undignified I looked with one shoe off and the other on! Still I managed tn be equal to the occasion, and held a long talk with the prince, his courtier^ standing around. Suddenly a young relative of the prince whisjiered something in his ear, and directly the courtiers rushed from the room. A minute after, amidst the deepest silence, was brought triumphantly into the audience room and deposited in the middle of the table—my shoe which I bad left outside! It :i[q>eared that this special state of excitement was produced entirely by the fact that my unfortunate foot gear was made of patent leather, and that, being almost new, it shone beautifully. Neither [wince nor court had ever seen patent leather before, and much ravishment, mingled with childish surprise, was on the face of everybody when it was whispered round that my shoe was covered with a coating of glass. The prince examined it carefully all over, •ind then passed it around to his courtiers, the greatest admiration being expressed at this wonderful object. So great an impression did it make that when I came away the prince himself accompanied me to the door, while a page [>ut on and laced my dazzling foot gear. Evergreens. Few customs arc so ancient as that of bedecking houses with evergreen in winter. With us it has become a Christmas custom, but it was common in many countries long before the Christian era. The Druids were great lovers of trees, and. according to Pliny, made the cutting of the mistletoe a religious ceremony; this is noted by the poet Drayton. During feudal times; in the baron's hall and in houses generally, the mistletoe became especially associated with rustic merriment. On this account, and probably also from its being identified with the heathen custom of the Druids, this plant was excluded from the evergreens used in the Christmas decorations of churches. A Truthful Landlord. “Ain't a dollar pretty high for a meal like that?” asked the tourist. “I don't mind owning up that it is,” said the landlord of the Cowboys' Rest, “but them meals cost me 75 cents apiece.” “But I happen to know that you sell a 10-meal ticket for 85." "Yes, I know I do. but about half the fellers that buys them tickets gits killed before they have eat two meals.” Their Tastes Differ. “Charier.” said young Airs. Torkins, “this venture of yours into politics is going to cost you a good deal of money.” “Yes,” was the reply, "but I'm getting experience.” “I suppose so," she rejoined, with a little sigh of resignation, “and experience is a great thing, I know, only my tastes don't run that way. I’d rather have had a sealskin coat and a trip to Europe.” । Never Too Late. Stump Speaker—“l say we've got to have reform in our politics! It’s in the air!" Skeptical Auditor—" ’Bout time It struck the earth, Isn’t it?”—Roxbury Gazette.

RECORD OF THE WEEK — INDIANA INCIDENTS TERSELY* TOLD. Lamentable Mistake Made by Henry Warren—Sad Fate of Lovers—lndiana’s Largest Woman Dead—Horrible Practicesof an Elkhart Farmer« Shoots an Innocent Man. Henry Warren, a wealthy Pittsburg farmer, shot and killed a man siqiposed to be a robber, who was attempting to go through bis barn, but on investigation it was found that be had made a serious mistake and taken the life of a harmless and inoffensive character. Warren is greatly affected over the killing, but as ( yet no action has been taken by the authorities. j Hidden Gold Is Found. [ Joel Commons, of Parke County, wlw j died recently, instead of being very poor, as was always supposed, had nearly $1(1.- ’ <MX» in gold. His wife did not know Im had accumulated the money until just before ho died. He did not definitely describe its hiding [dace, and as what has already been found was widely scattered it is [lossible there is more yet to ho found. During the war he realized a good premium on some gold, and this caused him to hold the yellow metal in high esteem. A number of gold coins have been found in old. battered cans and jars placed in out of the way corners about the farm. lon ng Couple-Ki I led by a Train. Miss Sophia Heucher and Simon Bohrer, a young couple who were soon to !•♦» married, were walking on the track of the Pennsylvania Railroad on their way to a dance at Arcola. They stepped off t-he south track to avoid an east-bound express train, and did not notice the approach behind (hem of a belated westbound fast mail train, which was running very fast. The loeomotiie struck and knocked b<Mi over feet in the air. killing them instantly. They were members of [H - os[>erous families in Aboit Township. Feeds Dead Horses to His Hogs. Complaint of a serious nature has been filed with the Elkhart Board of Health against Casper Lipshilz. He is charg'd with feeding the carcasses of horses to his hogs and then disposing of them upon the market. Eighteen dead horses worn found strewn [>r<>miscuously upon his premises, which the hogs devoured. Some of the dead animals had lain there for months. Lipshilz claimed he did not sell his hogs in Elkhart, but shipped them to Chieago. Fell from a Trapeze. At a variety performance at Mozart Hail in Jeffersonville John Morris and Afelvin Bennett were engaged to do i double trajieze turn. No sooner had they elevated iheinseives into the traps than Bennett lost his hold and before Morris could grasp him he fell a disttJUee of thirty feet to the stage. Bennett was picked up unconscious and badly injure*! a bop'S the head and shoulders. Death of a Heavy Woman. Mrs. David Lamb, the largest woman in the State of Indiana, was buried at her old home in New Aliddleton. Airs. Lamb weighed 50!) [lounds. No coffin could ba found to fit the corpse, nor hearse to carry it. Airs. Lamb was very poor, but refn>i'.l numerous tempting offers to ac- < ompany shows. All Over the State. John N. Hart, tried at Marion for onn bezzling S4..simi of Armour & Co., of Chi' engo, for whom he acted as agent, has been acquitted. Edward I’. Lytle, who was arrested at Logan sport, in September, on a charg » of grand larceny, has been discharged, the Grand Jury failing to return an indictment against him. He has retained counsel, and will enter suit for false imprisonnvnt. The property he was alleged to have stolen is a seven-hundred-dollar diamond cluster, owned by John R. K»>nnedy. a real estate man. Lytle is prominently connected, and. previous to his arrest. wa.s the local agent of the Prudential I nsuranee Company. Tito [ihysi< ians in charge of James AV. Biitenger, who attempted to commit suicide at Muncie by shooting, are completely puzzled. I’ittenger is 58 years old and was despondent because his wife, to whom their farm was given as a wedding present forty years ago, does the banking. markets the products and pays off the help. He put a bullet through his heart and another through his brain. The physicians believe that either shot should have caused instant death, > t ths man still lives. Lorenzo Turner left his home in Southern Illinois ar the close of the civil war to seek his fortune in the great AVvst. A few months later word was received that he was killed in an Indian massacre somewhere in the Southwest. Since that time his parents have mourned him as dead, although no further news was received as to the disposition of his body. Tuesday an old man stepped from the train at Brazil and inquired for Mrs. G. W. McClure. He proved to be Turner. He is a brother to Mrs. McClure. He is now one of the wealthiest cattlemen of South Dakota. He was almost killed in The Indian massacre and allowed his family to believe him dead until his tortv.ne was made. A desperate fight among a brace of convicts at th*' Jeffersonville prison south Wednesday morning may result in the death of one of the combatants. William Able and James Sherman, long term men. employed in the foundry of the institution. engaged in a controversy over a remark alleged to have been made by Sherman reflecting on the character of Abie’s sister. Words led to blows and Able, procuring a ramming iron used by molders, attempted to strike Sherman, who warded off the blow. Another attempt to strike Sherman was made, when the latter drew a knife and thrust the blade into Abie’s breast nest? the heart, infli* ting a dangerous wound. At AVashington the strike among Cabel & Co.’s miners is still on. with no prospects of settlement. The difficulty is about a screen used at one of the mines, and both sides have taken a determined stand. Miss Lizzie A. Myers, a schoolteacher of Golden Corners, in Ripley County, while in the act of entering her cart, was attacked by a mad dog, and sho avoided the brute by running around tho vehicle. The dog chasing her. and finally stopping to bite the pony and to attack: another dog. All the animals bitten died] of hydrophobia.