St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 41, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 2 May 1896 — Page 2

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NN N NN TN CHAPTER IV. Sir Howard Brudenell, of Massing Grange, sat at breakfast opposite his nephew on the day following Lady Prendergast’s dinner party, and it struck Horace that it was longgsince he had seen his uncle in such good humor. “So you seem to have had a pleasant party, Horace,” says Sir Howard this morning, pouring out the tea. “Yes, uncle; at least, I enjoyed it.” “I am glad you are fond of ladies’ society; ladies, I mean, such as—with the exception, that is, of Lady I'ouroaks, who ks slangy and eccentric—you meet at Silrermead. It is desirable at your time of life, softens the manners, and prevents a ~ young man's tastes from degenerating.” ‘There was a pause. Horace, of course, . had nothing to say. Sir Howard was meditating in what form he would coucl his proposition. “Horace,” and then he heaved a sigh, probably of anxiety, for this project was very near his heart, “Horace, I wish you to marry."” Now, if Brudenell had never met Miss Harding, the chances are that he would have received this startling announcement without any outward sign and with but slight-inward commotion. As it was, he had been lying awake thinking of her the night. “The fact is,” he spoke—and here his eyes went down upon the tablecloth—“it would be a great relief to my mind.” l Another awful sigh. *I want—l want to l be quite free to do as I please, or may | please later on—about marrying again | myself. I feel it is a duty to see that the l title and estate be carried on. If you did not exist, or if you were averse to! xuarriag**, I should hold it incumbent upon | me to—to again seek a wife. It is not my ] wont, as you must be aware, to be confidential with any one, for, as a-rule, it is i a mistake to tell any human soul that | which all the world may not hear; but this 5 is an exceptional case—a very exceptional l case. You will naturally respect my confidence.” “Uncle, I am sure you know you may trust me.” j “I believe it. Know then that I wish | to be equally free to marry or not, and i this, if I please, even after you have taken | a wife, without seeing your future reduc- | ed thereby to a life of comparative poventy.” “I do not understand.” “You must marry money.” If Horace had turned scarlet just now, | his countenance at this announcement | grew very pale. Money! How horrid | the word sounded. He had always heard ’ of it when coupled with marriage as | meaning a parvenu's daughter, with her | shoulders in her cars—an oid woman with | a face like a tipsy cook’s, and such like ’ ; horrors. | “And yet,” he reflects, ‘‘and yet, why should not gold be combined with better l things; why not even with the divine Ca- ~ milla herself? I have certainly never coupled the two thoughts until this moment; but, dear me, Liady Pendergast has no son, she seems rich, a few thousands would do no harm; there is no absolute ineongruity between a pretty woman and a banker's account.” “I have for some time been looking about, you see,” went on Sir Howard. “I think I have found the lady, and, what is more, tlrat she already looks upon you with a favoring eye.” Horsace's heart now beat so, he was afraiid his uncle would hear it. | “You met her last night.” “Indeed!” Kettledrums began to roll in his ears. . “I have heard you say she was very handsome.” “Yes?” “Come, come, sir; you must know I’ allude to Lady Susan Graye——" “Liady Susan—Graye!” ejaculated poor Horace, with a look of uncontroliable dis- | . may, which utterly bewildered Sir How- ] mard. It was evident the proposition did | mot smile at him, as the French say. ] “Well, what on earth is the matter with | you?”’ he asked; “have you any fault to | find with the lady, sir?”’ | “I know the lady does not honor me; nwith the slightest preference——" J ‘““‘Horace, you are a boy. How, I ask | you, could any well-brought-up girl, espe- E cially one of Lady Susan’s rank, show | you preference before you paid her any | attention? Moreover, do you think me.l ' me, capable of sending my nephew on a l wild-goose chase? I know 'what I am | about.” “May I venture to ask what has led you to believe that Lady Susan Graye cares : for me?” “You may—‘Cares for you’ is too strong -a term. That she locks upon you with | sufficient favor for it to be highly probable that you may win her, I have the best reason to suppose. I have spoken to her | father.” \ “You have spoken,” exclaimed Horace, again changing color, and grasping the | edge of the table with both hands., l “I have spoken to Lord Caulfield on my | own account, certainly; but you need not | look so tragical over it, nephew. I said | you knew nothing of the matter.” 5 ::g}ndq\\‘lmt”did the marquis say 7" E = Say ! “ ay, J_us-t what I expected. | That you might win her if you could, and 't‘.h;lt. he would not say you nay. ;l‘h:tt | he lxkn.d you very much—hoped I would not retuse a peerage a second time, and so forth. This was over a week ago. He never was the man to keep :myfliing 1<; thimself for five minutes, and aceordingly Lady Susan must have known all .'flnl:n-t it for some days. If she made herself as agreeable to you as ever last night, it is as much as to say, ‘Win me.” " “I—l am simply astounded.” ““And so you ought to be, sir. A marquis’ daughter, young and beautiful, with £60,000 down, and ever so much more some day, it is enough to take the breath ‘away of a better man than either of us.” Here was a position for a young man ‘who fancied that he had just fallen desperately in love! Here, indeed, was one wf those obstacles which test a passion,

and counteract any such cnemy to its growth as, for instance, Camxllq s too favorable acceptance of his attentions. He rightly supposed that after so momentous an announcement, Sir Howard would hardly expect him to assist at the pending discussion with his chief, nor is it. probable that his assistance on questions of farms, timber and fat beasts would, on this particular morning, have proved of any appreciable value to those two grave men. Accordingly he betook himself to a pipe and the woods—tobacco pipe, of course—and throwing himself down among the primroses by a clear little pebbly stream, for the sun was already warm, he proceeded to review the situation. What could he do? Granting Camilla to be all that was inost superlative—considering that as a point settled—what could he do? It was out of the question to offend his uncle. Without Sir Howard he is nothing, has nothing. But stay. Is it certain that this little beauty may not be nearly as good a match as her rival? ’ The only grandehild of Lady I’rendergast, might she not be heiress to Silvermead, and who knows how much beside? “That was very strange about her father,” he muses, “her looking so confused, alarmed even, when I alluded to him. A mystery there of some kind, I'll be bound. And if there is, does that make the daughter any the less charming? He is not a felon, I suppose; not that, if he had poisoned his grandmother I should be a whit less in love with Camilla.” And so in musing and speculation, in wanderings of the most ferociously soliHary sort, of much smoking and little eating, he wore away the day. Somehow or other, on the following evening Horace had wandered in his rev- | eries, and de facto so much further than usual, that he found himself at nightfall not two miles from Paradise—l mean Silvermead. linding himself so near, and ' the night being again moonlight and balmy, one of those nights, in short, when the very thought of bed is revolting, Horace decided that he would push | on and refresh himself with a glimpse of | his beloved's roof. | “Who knows,"” he said to himself, “per- : haps I shall get a glimpse of her.” | | As if to his very wish, out comes Calmilhl to bid good-night to the flowers, tripping down the steps without a hat, and his young long sight fancies it detects @ basket on her arm, And Rolfe the deerhound by her side. She trips about from bed to bed; he fancies she is warbling some well-known | melody as she roams. Now, down goes ‘ the basket and she flies to the swing and it sways away with a will, DPresently lights !appe'ar above, a door window is thrown ‘ widely back, and her maid, for it must be ‘she, calls out to the young lady. The voice isthat of a woman no longer young, ) and who is urging the thoughtless girl to hasten in out of the cold and dew. Doubtless the authority of “gran'ma' is evokd, as obedience foliows within a reasonable time; and with steps far slower than those with which she came down, Camilla, flove-er-laden, now remounts the picturesque old stair. Her hair has fallen down during the swinging, and streams and gleams in all directions, hanging like a glory about her. As she reuches the center of the terrace, just oppostie the open casement, she stops and leans over the parapet to take one long last look at the bright moon. There she remains some seconds, motionless as a picture she so resembles, and then, backing slowly, her gaze still on the heavens, she vanishes from sight. Something makes Horace dare to hone that in that solemn interval, she has murmured his name in love. CHAPTER V. Nothing of much moment occurred between this evening ap-d the ball at Hasham. There have been a couple of wet | days, and on the one or two oceasions | when the weather was fine enough to !*tempt Horace to renew his adventure, if such it can be called, in the neighborhood l of his lady's chamber, the cruel uncle had { stepped in to prevent it, by retaining him ltn make a fourth at the whist table, an elderly colonel from the Portland and 1 Miss Laffinch making up the party. This | wily old campaigner had read the young ilo)\'t‘l's like a book the day she dined at { Silvermead; but she kept the discovery to | use as might be advantageous. Every mistake the young man made these ewr;— ings at whist meant money in her pocket, and she contented herself for the present with that pecuniary result of his heartache, He rather sought her/than otherwise, thinking she might chance to give him some of the information he had found no ‘opportunity of gleaning elsewhere. At first he beat about the bush for some lit- ' tle time, hoping that Miss Laffinch micht | k!’t'ft'l', of her own aceord, to Liady Pren- | dergast or her grandchild; but no, it | seemed that she could talk of everything &but Silvermead. So at last he made a | bold plunge. ‘; “Have you seen anything of our friends E since the dinner?"” } “Oh, dear, yes:; you know I live élose 'hy. Camilla is radiant!—quite radiant, | I assure you, and she ought to be, if what 1L hw:ll‘ is ttjuo. A marriage on the tapis.” I “A marriage!” gasped Horace, with ill {’ L'H‘l‘l"(‘flh‘;l ('ull(,‘vl‘n_‘ ! o _l.)mr. Haven't you heard? Young ] Jyril .-\v}un, Lord Hammersely’s eldest | Son, staying at the de Basle’s. An enor- { mous match.” “:.-I\.ml —a x'lq where did they meet % ady Prendergast and Camilla droye I)'Vf“l‘ and lvl.mc'hwl there the day after you i:\‘(_‘xc vat Silvermead, but it appears the Vo young people had met a good deal abroad, \\'l{(m——»\\'hon she was with her unfnnttunute father, you know; and that it is quite a case.” ’J,‘hmnghout Miss Laffinch had affected Fofnl blindness as to young Brudenell's interest and anxiety. "'”HO tll.illf-.' i'lt least you will tell me, fi[xss L:‘lfhnch, ' pursued the poor boy; you said *her unfortunate father.” What | did you mean?”

“Why, only that—" but here they were interrupted by the entrance of the | other two, and as they all i loved to the whist table, without loss of & %“’“;g’ was already late, Miss Laffinc “*‘% as she told herself: e “If the young fool counts %% to-night 1 know nothing of human na- | ture.’ =L ) And she was a frue prophet, and won | thirty-four and sixpence from the young | fellow she had mystified, and, what ig | more, slept well after it. Inéegd, it s | difficult to say what sin Miss Laffinch | would not have commiwed for thirty-four | shillings and sixpence, and slept wel] | after. i It was about 10 o'clock when Horace | mounted the dogeart for his seven-mile | drive to the ball—a matter of little more | than half an hour with the active piece | of trotting cattle which stood between | the shafts. ; CHAPTER VL Horace found the rooms already wel] | filled and dancing in full swing. ; He threaded his way through the ball. | room, between the revolvers and the wall. | flowers, and, not seeing anybody conneet- | od with his present circumstances, except | indeed some of the Fouroaks' party at the upper end of the room, among whom Ca. milla was conspicuous by her absence, he did what I am afraid is not a very interesting or hero-like thing; he went through | to the buffet to indulge in that cup of tea | from which his early flight from home | had debarred him. ; - “There's Miss Harding now—Lady Prendergast's gran'daughter, as purty a girl as ever you clapped eyes on-—surey she's yohder there d:’!l“z‘fi i ¢ w© you 8 me Py e AT W tollin® yer, the auld lady thinks a world of me, and of me skill. 1 was over there a while ago at Silvermead to seo her. Well, she's a good ten thousand a year, and every penny comes to Miss Harding at her death”—and the speaker, a Dr. MeFinn, tossed off another glass of sherry to strengthen tne blessing, “Miss Harding gets it all—indeed,” said his companion. That the fine and refined Brudenell was was supremely disgusted with what he overheard it is needless to say. *“How dare that drunken little doctor-black-guard”—thus he mentally epithetized him ~—**so much as breathe the sacred name of his Camilla at all, to every Dick, Tom 3 and Harry of his pitiful acquaintance ¥ Yet, for all his indignation, Horace had gathered two important facis—or so he thought them-—-from the little doctor's expansiveness. Miss Harding was positively at the ball. And then, about the money ! Deep in these thoughts Horace strolled } from the buifet, and almost unconscions- { 1y bent his steps, not to the ball room, but | toward a little suite of the smaller apart- [ ments, by which you could still gain the | former by a circuitous route. He had % hardly entered the first of these when he { started violently, Seated alone there 1 were Camilla—an empty eup of tea by her ‘s%l-- and a man whom Horace at once i knew and felt to be Acton, [ Horace, being the right sort of man, i recoversd his omrward composure in- { stanter, by virtue, one may say, of the [ blood of his ancestors, walked with apparent calmness up to Camilla, and, i shaking hands with her, said: | “How do you do, Miss Harding? lam {BO glad you are here after all. I hope ‘; you left Lady Preondergast guite well 7 i To which the young lady, who had also | changed color on seeing Brudenell enter, | replied, with cordial demureness: | “Quite, thank yon. How late you have i come! 1 was looking for you as I danced fj:l-? now, May I introduce 2—Mr. Actygp, { M. Brudenell,” and the two young men, | who may have been tingling to fly at each { other’s throats, shook hands at the die- | tate of beauty, as if it gave them both ; particular pleasure to become acquainted. { “lls this your firat visit to the county ! asked Braudenell, ’f,l'n’.l\.l‘;':}. | “Mpy first, but I hope not my last. Hithe | erto 1 have searcely seen anything of the | midland counties.” 2 “1t promises to be guite a full ball toe { night, Miss Harding,"” said Horace. 1 | hope, if yon have not already promised | them all, that you wiill give me a dance | g 0 ";,” ’ “As that waltz is so far off, I will give | you the lancers: that is the second square E dance from now-1 saw it written up.” [ “What, instead of our waltz?" ' NO, Do, &8 well” { Horace felt invaded by a perfeet flood |of gratitude. Then suaddenly, Camilla | said, “Is it not sad about poor Lady Sa- { san; of course, you have heard 2 { Horace started guiltily, Camilla mark- { ed his concern, and perhaps aseribed it to ‘ “oOh, nothing so very terrible: th ugh, perhaps, we ought never to say that of death. It is a cousin of Lady Caulfield, | an old major they hardly knew, but still a | first cousin. He was eighty-six, 1 bet | leve. Lord Caulfield says they must not i go out after the funeral” { "Oh, exactly,! said Horace, half abi sently. “The-—the next dance then?"? I “The next rs,”” and as she moved !nfl' on Acton’s arm, she added, rather { sauciiy, “If you look so broken-hearted. I t think all of us who have not lost aged ! cousins must conspire to console vou, I've [ a great mind to give you the quadrille as j well--oh, don’t be shocked, I don’t mean it,”" and, laughing low, away she went. ( (To be continued.) l THE ACME OF TORTURE }&“'l'hv l%.nl\h".('n(‘c lfrml in Italy for | Capital Punishment. The punishment of the bagno (bath), one of the most cleverly eruel inflictions ever devised by an official of the torture chamber, was administered in Italy, probably in Venice, where the water of ! f);u lagoons played so prominent a part | 10 ifs penal system, i The prisoner was placed in a vat, the | sides of which wore slightly in excess |of the average height of man. In order to hold in cheek the rising tide of water, which ran into the vat in a constant stream, the eriminal was furnished with a scoop with which to bail out the water as fast as it came in. The respite from death by immersion ! thus obtained was more or less prolong- | ed, according to the powers of endur- ! ance possessed by the victim. But, imagine the awful torture, the exhausting I:lud even that hideously grotesque efl forts, the incessant and pitiless toil by night and day, to stave off the dread moment fast approaching, when, overcome by sleep and fatigue, he was unable to struggle any longer against his fate!

HE AVY LOSS BY FIRE CRIPPLE CREEK, COLORADO, Is i iIN RUINS. Beveral Squares Swept by the Flames ~Plague Spots Wiped Out—-Damage Over ‘],COO,OOO, with but Light Insurauce— 3,000 People Homeless, Eight Blocks Burn,

One million dollars is a conservative estimate of the dumagg done by fire at Cripple Creek, Colo, The amount of insurance, as nearly as can be arrived at, will not exceed $250,000. When the fire broke out in a second-hand store the danger of a big conflagration was not perceived, and it was thought that the fire‘men, who were early on the scene, would have the flames under countrol in a very few minutes, But in a short time the fire had spread to the adjoining buildings and a brisk wind sprung up. Then it was conceded by all that at least half a dozen buildings on the corner of Mecyers and Third streets would go, and the occupants began to move out. But many had waited too long and were unable to save their goods. Some barely escaped with their lives. Several women were dangerously | b“figfigy minute added fury to the flames, and when the fire had spread several doors on ¢ither side the danger to the city “was observed, but no one could realize Eb:w great the damage would be. The eant Decame so intense that buildings on he north side of Meyers street took fire. Then it was that occupants of stores and offices began to make preparations to save their possessions, Ivery wagon in town was pressed into service. Not a tenth part of the goods were saved. By the time the postoffice had caught it became evident that the only way to stop the progress of the fire was to blow up the buildings with dynamite. This was done | under the supervision of the firemen, and a number of buildings had to be sacrificed before the fire had reached them. The fire started about 1 o'clock, and by 4 it had demolished the blecks in Meyers | between Third and Fifth strects, and in !

- - L ey Ry b ~ h | e ] Lf’lu.,ufl‘fi'-' — = AN =T et i NG eyt oo A 1 TSR ] i '3l || AR oP s :'f” g | 4 id B i e- 4 i A F i ) .'u-:‘b‘. u_; @ " "’rt '@ i‘T i 3 e b :A_i“ ‘1;? ‘: “‘; "',\ i \x(; wf"l"‘“ - 'avi * 'fl‘) ~'t, '‘;. (e S ‘-‘ | DN et st IRI 'z‘k‘?c{n‘lu i | 5A\ \ } ! . ;._} ‘-‘4..4 R 3TR,‘3 os ol ) ~,, ‘ . S v SRI E : ~:_{,i ‘ &§ i -- > K \“’__‘ \l"t“' ,» ;:_:.»:'- — ‘,‘-‘ | ‘ "»-: “"g, AEEN “ S . \\\ P BQ R e B | 1.,-::WE; '-:T' !,‘ L, N _‘:‘ A \ :“i\ .‘.‘:\‘*L;‘\““"\\\\_“Q‘ 4 L‘L:i o S eh‘ . iTt T - i . o ‘ g .. ‘|;'~“1 ! e, ‘\\_‘\\\:‘ . I E‘ R §\- - 7q‘ ’ = . “x_ ) | e Mo~ .« . Lo T ' et T R y e Pl ermag T | (e e N\ TN S S| | SCENE OF THE CRIPPLE CREEK FIRE. i

FBennett between Thaird and Fifth streets, L stopping just this side of the New Midfland depot. Nearly all the buildings bejtween Third and Fifth strects in Eaton | rore destroyed. Many people lost every‘thing they had. Twenty Thousand Letters Destroyed. The property in Meyers street was ocecupied in the most part by saloons. The two variety theaters, Topic and Hollang’s, were there, and innumerable dance halla, Grace Clifton was badly burned shout the face and hands. J. Anderson, % while placing a charge of dynamite under the Sisters’ hospital to blow it up, had al leg torn off by a premature ('Xplusi\)n.; The postoffice in Benuett avenue is a to- | tal wreck, only the vault standing. Twen- ’ ty thousand letters and thousands of packages were destroyed. The First Na- ' tional Bank vault is standing. All thc] books and papers were saved, and the | bank opened for business while its building was burning in a room adjoiniug the } Bimetallic Bank. The Episcopal and Con- | gregational churches were destroyed. The ! city jail, in which were confined about‘ twenty prisoners, has only the iroh cages { fort. The prisoners were released. The i Sisters' hospital was blown up after the | patients had been removed to the Pike's | Peak hospital. ! Maror Steele ordered all saloons closed, ‘ which prevented lawlessness. A report | was started that thieves were busy and ; a8 hundred deputies were at once sworn | in and the militia was called out, but no ' depredations were committed. Thou- | sands of people were made homeless, but | they were all given shelter by the gener- | ous people of the town. The burned sec- | tion is to be built up at once with brick | and stone. ‘ Work of Rebuilding Begun, ’ Aiready the wors of rebuilding the | burned district has begun. At a meeting | of the City Council a resolution was pass- | ed allowing the erection of temporary? buildings within the fire limits with the | provision that all must be removed within | sixiy gays to give place to buildings nt’l stone and brick. Before nightfall fully | twenty-five buildings were under way and quite a number are occupied. With 3,000 ‘ people rendered homelcss in a day, of course lodging houses are in greatest demand, and many of these are rapidly progrgssing. i : ‘

At an early hour telegrams began coming to the Mayor from cities and towns of the State offering financial aid. These were turned over to the committee, who replied with thanks, but declining the kindly offers. Cripple Creek will take care of her own. Mayor Steele prepared a proclamation to the general public, gaying that outside assistance is not needed. In Brooklyn a crusade against bonnets with waving plumes will be begun. Notice will be posted in the various theaters | requesting women who wear large huts} to remove them during the performances. | w 0 The late Congressman William H. ’ Crain, of Texas, was one of the best classica] scholars ever sent to Congress. It is sajd that he knew the “Iliad” and the Greek tragedies almost by heart. PR R R Jerome Hill, of St. Louis, rade away from Appomattox owning nothing but his uniform and a mule he borrowed from Gen. Grant's army, but he is now the biggest cotton buyer in the country. 4 SRR President Samuel Gompers, of the American Federation of Labor, says there an increase in labor union membership.

\\ TRAILS OF DEATH LEFT. 2 Eight Persons Killed Outright ina Kansas Cyclone. A cyclone swept through Clay County, Kansas Saturday night, leaving a trail of destruction and death to mark its visit, Eight persons were instantly killed and four fatally hurt, so far as known, although investigation is likely to add to | this grewsome list. In addition a number of others were more or less seriously hurt, and property worth thousands of dollars, herds of stock and growing crops became the plaything of the devastating tornado.

; tVI:IlluUc : To add to the terror of the oceasion, the | i sto_rm came at night, arousing the panic- | | stnckc.n people from their slumber to face denth. 1n terrible form. There was scant || warning, a few fleecy clouds in the even- | ing giving no sign of the howling tempest that was to descend three hours later. The list of killed, so far as reported, is as follows: E. Beltzor, Mrs. Beltzor, Jessic Hall, aged 5 years; Mrs. Ole Halverson, J. Haynes, Mrs. Frank Peterson, Selma Peterson, aged 10 years; Joseph Trembly. The fatally injured: John Morris, I'rank Peterson, aged 40 years; Julia Peterson, aged 8 years; Mrs. Frank Wilkerson. A mile cast of St. Joseph the first vietims of the storm were found. There dwelt a well-to-do Frenehman, Eli Beltzor, his wife and six children. The farm house and outbuildings were torn to picces and Mr. Beltzor and his wife killed. The family were preparing to go into the cellar when the storm struck them. Just east of there another farmer, Joseph Trembly, was killed. None of the family, so far as can be learned, was injured. Three miles south of Clifton several houses were torn down and a number killed. The eyclone took tae people unawares. There had been indications of a heavy rain all day, with local showers, but nobody expected a storm. So far as learned, the vietims were i their houses, and most of them had retired. The storm struck Peter Anderson’s house at 9:30 o'clock. This was about a mile from the starting point. The house was demolighed in an instant. rvery member of the Anderson family was injured. When they had extricated themselves from the debris they discovered that Anderson's grandchild was missing. The dead body of the child was found in a ravine half a

mile away. It evidently had been carried l there by the wind. Anderson alarmed the neighbors who lived out of the trnck! of the storm, and scarch was commenced for victims. A large number of cattle and horses were killed, and fruit in the storm’s track was ruined. It is impossible at this time | to estimate the damage to buildings and other property. Heartrending tales of suffering are told by persons who visited the scenes of the l storm. Many of the injured lay all night, | pinned down by wreckage or paralyzed in | the mud, while others erawled or hobbled across the country to a neighbor's house. ;In several instances people were lifted | into the air by the cyelone and carried for ’n distance, and then suddenly dropped. ‘ Buildings were lifted up and then hurled ‘ to the ground with force enough to de- { molish them. The wife and daughter of John Morris were reading when the shock } came. The house was divided. The wom- | en managed to get out, when the wind 'pickod them up, carried them 200 yards ‘uml let them safely down on a pile of | straw, just away from the storm’s track. ‘ { T ———————————————— ‘ ! FIGURING ON THE DEFICIT. t e | !()flicialn Estimate the Total! for tlxei ; Fiscal Year Will Be $25,000,000, l | The treasury deficit for tne fiscal year | ending June 30, 1896, will be approxi- | mately $25,000,000. This, according tol‘ | &« Washington dispateh, is the opinion of g officials and others best gualified to make | | an intelligent estimate of the result of E the fiscal operations of the year. In his‘} i annual estimates sent to Congress at the | beginning of the present session, the Sec- | t retary of the Treasury estimated the receipts from customs during the fiscal year |at $172,000,000. So far, with nearly ten | months of the year gone, the customs rei(‘cipts have reachea about $137,000,000, | with a fair prospect of increasing to $165,5 000,000 by the close of the year. The esti- ' mate of the receipts from internal revenue sources was $158,000000. TUp to this time they have reached $120,000,000 and it is expected that the figures for the com- ) pleted year will be about $146,000,000. The receipts from miscellaneous sources are expected to slightly exceed the estimates of $15,000,000, making the total receipts for the year about $327,00Q,000.

" The Secretary’s estimate of the year's ex- | penditures was $362,000,000, which, ac- | cording to his figures, would leave a deficiency of $17,000,000. The actual expenditures, however, it is now thought, will aggregate about $352,000,000, or $10,000,000 less than Mr. Carlisle's estimate in December last, so that the defieit at the close of the year, it is ! believed, will not show any very material change from Saturday's figures, §25,162,423. This makes the total deficit for the three fiscal years ending June 30, 1896, | $136,861,812. | At an early hour in the morning the“ police discovered a house to be on fire at Columbus, O. By breaking in the door they rescued Col. John A. Keith, well known in State and national Grand Army of the Republic circles, who was asieep and almost suffocated by the smoke. Dispatches from Hudson bay report the arrival there of the crews of the fishing schooners Wilhelmina, Mary and Ellen, which were lost on St. Patrick’s night in the straits of Belle Isle, while engaged in seal fishing. Several of the men were frost-bitten, but o lives were lost.

— e ——————————— CROP PROSPECTS EXCELLENT) Timely Rains and Warm Weather Encourage the Farmers. The Government reports as to the cone dition of the crops throughout the country, and the general effect of the weather upon the culfivation, growth and harvest of the same, show that the unusually warm weather throughout the central, eastern and southern portions of the country has rapidly advanced the seae son, which has been unusually backe ward, and has been very favorable fo®

farming operations and growth of vegaw tation, which has been remarkably rapid, Winter wheat has shown marked improvement generally and is reported as doing well in Indiana, Illinois, lowa, Kansas and in portions: of Missouri, and, while an improvement has been noted in Kentucky and West Virginia, the condi« tion of the crop in these States is poor, some having been plowed up. In sections of Missourl and Texas, winter wheat seeding is well advanced in Southe ern Minnesota and is about finished in portions of Eastern*South Dakota, where some of the early sown’is up. In North Dakota no seeding has yet been done. Preparations for corn planting have been pushed rapidly’during the week, and in the more southerly sections planting has continued with much activity. Some corn has been planted in Illinois and Nebraska, and planting will be begun In lowa this week. Cotton planting has continued under favorable conditions, and in the central and southern portions of the cotton region is coming up generally to a good stand. Germination, however, has been slow, owing to the drought in some sections of the western portion of the cotton reglon. General rainfall would prove of much benefit from the Ohio Val« ley southward, and also in Texas, where rain is needed to insure a stand of cotton. The report by States follows: Illinols—A hot week, with showers at the beginning and ending, has caused a remarkable advance in all vegetation. Winter wheat, rre and grasses are greatly Improved and are doing finely; grasses afford Sasturage. Oats are coming up; gardens an potatoes are planted; also some corn, but preparation of corn land {s general. Fruits are laden with blossems. Wisonsin—Warm weather and abundang ralnfall has been very favorable for the rapld advancement of all crops. Wheat Is greatly improved, especlally in localities where it was thought to have been entirely winters killed. Oats are all sown, and work well advanced In southern section. Little plowing has been done In the central and northern sectiona, South Dakota—Seeding 1s about finished In southeastern counties, with some wheat above ground; elsewhere seeding has been retarded by heavy precipitation and coos weather, No winter wheat sown. In the central and northern portions the soil i 3 too wet, and warmer and bright weather I 3 needed. - Nebraska—A liood growlng week, but ralw and wet ground have retarded farm work, The seeding of small grain is about coms« | {»leted,except In the northwest section. Plows ng for corn is progressing; very little plante ed, and this only In southern counties. Fruit trees are blooming profusely, and generally uninjured by frost of Saturday. Kansas—A warm, rainy week, which greate« ly Improved all crop conditions. Whea% much lmproved and growing rapidly. Corn coming up In central and southern countles, and s a good stand. Fruvit promised a fuil crop, but was injured some by frost of Baturday, Grass Is supporting stcck In south ¢ounties. = e S S e l Misgouri—The unusually warm weather i to!’ccj Vegetatlon forward very rapidly. Wheat Is suffering for rain In some central and southwestern counties, but elsewhere is generally doing well, Corn planting is proffrcsslng favorably and cotton has begun. *asturage good. Frult prospects are excellent, ' lowa—Hligh temqerature and abundant molsture have pushed vegetation rapldly, 'and the scason Is now as early as usual. :Gmss and small grains are making a fine { stand; winter wheat generally promising. 'l'}.,;\\'l:l? for corn well advanced and planting will soon begin. fudiunn-—\\'nnu weather has rapldly imroved all growing crops. But few showers ?ell and rain Is much needed. Wheat, barley, rye, clover and grass bave advanced rapidiy. | Oats nearly all sown. Tobacco plants comi ing on wel{ln Switzerland County. Fruitls in bloom. Plowing for corn continues. Ohlo—Excessively warm, sunshiny, windy and dry week, except in northern portion, where rainfall was about normal. Conditions were very favorable for plowing and plant{ing. All vegetation Is Improved. ApFles. apricots, cherrles, pears, peaches and piums are blooming. Michigan—Abnormally high temperature and plentiful showers have rapidly advanced all vegetation and farm work. Winter wheat, ry» and grass are doing finely. l‘lowm%and oat A\ grass seeding in progress. arly l potato plantlag has just begun. SERGEANT-AT-ARMS MARTIN. Prominent St. Lonis Lawyer Who Will Police the Chicago Counventicn, Col. John I. Martin, who will fill the Important function of sergeant-at-arms of the Demeccratie national convention, is a St. Louis lawyer who is widely known to Missoyrl. He was born in St. Louis in ! 1848, and early In life was of material as- | sistance to his parents, who were in straitened circumstances. He was a driver of a levee dray when he went into politics, . ,f',;»::_‘z’— —> ; AR R : T eV, . (A SO ’-!,lr’/ ,\\:?&\” ;."4""}’ "'; .“/";"-"’A'_’; My { EAT ‘:"\&%‘:‘ ‘\T‘;‘\.;' K' NIoO (oY 2 omas e RS gyl g 2 AN A <SG N N 2T BN [fi 3 o \\;&\\&) 718 No\ P o R B L\ | R ARy W2B AN VR TR ._\\\\;\\f_ it \\“ee‘\ 3 l.: e "‘.,,-:r‘\i' A \;;’; g,"_ V\\J\\ i Rl 7,5 St NS N RIS OSSR AR TS s S B, S /q"i e ~’J«§§§& FERos .S b AN USRS R R, e SRR AR | (N R Ao R | %\E“‘“ 27 ‘*“‘" SR 7)) e 1 . PO A () > W T\ B g { - 97 f': ? ' A oy E W 2 ; / l COL. JOHN I. MARTIN.

" | and was elected to the Missouri Legislature. At that time he was the youngest , | man ever elected to the Missouri Assembly. Col. Martin then read law in the " | office of Col. Robert S. McDonald, one of " | the leading lawyers in St. Louis, and for ; many years has been well known for his | ability in criminal ecases. Col. Martin has | been prominent in fraternal and benevo- | lent orders. He is a whole-souled, generous, genial man, very popular in St Louis and throughout his State. SEn el e | A month ago P. Scott, a prominent merchant of Toronto, committed suicide by jumping off the Rosedale bridge. A week later J. Long, the head waiter of the Albany Club, imitated him with fatal results, and now John Strachan, one of the locked-out tailors, has made the sama terrible leap. Although fatally injured be is still living. . Coal miners in convention at Philadelphia, Pa., representing the central and ngrthern ?eéds, decided to accept the advance of § cents a ton offere vatora. u -