Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 28 February 1878 — Page 7
PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE.
A Novel of Thrilling Interest About the Great Strikes is England.
ny CHARLES READE.
f-'outiniu) I Prom Laat lasae-l
CHAPTER XLIV. tco' a book, and tried to while
Lit' 1
awav ie tim« till Ransome's return but he could not command his attention. The conversation about Grace had excited a toyir. which excluded every other.
He opened his window, a French casement, and I jok^d out upon the night. Th h=s iservcd that Grace, too, wa« keeping vigil for a faint light shot fro.n her window and sparkled on the branches of the pi me-tree in her little front garden. "And that thou jht Ilenrv radly. "is all I can see of h?r. Close to her, yet far off—farther than ever now."
A deep sadness fell 0.1 him, sadness an.i doubt. Suppose he were to lay a trap f.r her to-.tjorro v, and catch her at li'.*r own door! What good would it do? He pit himself in h«r place. That process showed him at once nlie would come no more, lie should destroy her little bit of itient, quiet happine *, tr.e one daily sunbeam of her desolaie lif
By-ar.d-by, feeling ra'.hsr drowsy, he lay down in his cloUics to wait for Ran-som-^'s return. He put out his light.
From iiisbe 1 he could see Grace's light kir-s the plane-! r.-i'. fie lay and fued his eyes or. it, and thought of a'l that had pissed between them: and by-and-bv, love ind grief made his eyes misty, and that pale light seemed tjd.mce add'llicker bjfjre him.
Abo it dni^ht, he was n^.irly dozing off, when his eir caught a mattering oatside hi lis.ene I, and tliojignt he heard some instrument grating below.
Hi ro-e verv sofdv, and crept to the window, and looked "keenly through the casern.-lit.
He siw nothing at fir-t but presently a dark obje emerged from behind the plane-tree I h:iv mentioned, and began to go slowlv, but surely, up it.
Little fe.ired it was a burglar about to attack the house which held his darling. He stepped softly to his rifle, and loaded both b.trrels. It was a breech-loader. Then he crawled softly to the window, and peered out, rifle in hand.
The in had climbed the tree, and w.is looking earnestly in at one of the windows it Grace'* house. His attention was so fixe.l that he never saw the gleaming **ve which no.v watched him.
Presently the drif.ing clouds left the moon clear a minute, and Henry Little recognized ie fa:e of Frederick Coventry
I I at an be an to
ble Wny did he tremble? Because—after the tirst rush of surprise—rage, hate and blooly thoughts crossed hi* mind Here was his enemy, the barrier to his happiness, come, of his own accord court hifc death. Why not take him for a burglar, and shoot him dead? Such an aet might be blamed, but it could not be punched severely.
The temptation was so great, that the rifle shook in his hands, and a cold perspiration poured down hisbjek.
He prayed to God in agony to relieve him from his temptation he felt that it was more tnun he could bear.
He looked up. Coventry was drawing up a short iron laJder from below. lie then got hold of it, and fixed it on.the^ill of Grace's window. ,,
Little burst his own window open. "You villain!" he cried, and leveled his rifle at him.
Coventry uttered a yell of dismay. Grace opened her window, and looked out, with a fare full ot terror.
At sight of her, Coventry cried to ner in abject terror, "Mercy! mercy! Don't let him shoot me!"
Grace looked round, and saw Henry aiming at Coventry. She screamed, and Little lowered his rifle directly.
Coventry crouched directly in the fork ot the tree. Grace lo ked bewildered from one to the other bit it was to Henry she spoke, and asked him in trembling tones what it "all meant."
But, ere either could make a ri-pl--, a dire sound was heard of hissi lg thunder: HO appalling that the three aetor« in this strange scene wereall irozjn and rojted where they stojd
Then came a fiireegMlopmj.and Rangome, with his olack hair andb:aro flying and his face like a ghost, reined up and shouted wildly, "Dam burst! Coming down here! Fly for your lives! Fly!"
He turned and galbped up the hid. Cple and his mite emerged and t'ol lowed him, howling but before the other poor creatures, halt paralyzed, could do anv thing, the hissing thunder was upo 1 them. What seemed a mountain of snow came rolling, and burst on thein with terrific vio'.ence, whirling great trees and fragments ot houses past with incredible velocity.
At the first blo w, the house tb*t stood nearest to the flying la le was shattered, and went to peices soon after all the houses quivered as the water rushed rounr1. them two stories high.
Little never expected to live auother minute yet in that awful moment his love stood firm, lie screamed to Grace. •The houses must got—the tree!—the tree!—get to Mie tree!"
But Grace, so weak at times, was more than mortal strong at that dread hour. "What! live with him," she cried, "when I can die wi you!"
She folded her arms, and her pale tace was radiant—no hope, no fear. No.v came a higher wave, and the water reached above tae bed-room window silts and swept away the ladder yet, driven toward like a vnnon-buUe., did not yet ur in the bed looms frcim the main s»t -earn but bv decrees the furious flood broke, melted, and swept away the intervening houses, and then hacked ofl the gable end ot Graces house, as if Le* via han had bitien a piece out. Through that aperture the flood came straight in levelled the partititions at a blow, rushed into the upper rooms with tearful roar, and tnen, rushing out again to rejoin the greater body of water, blew out into the raging current.
The water pnuring out of the house rarried her, at first, towards the tree, and Little cried wip.ly to Coventry to save her. H- a»v\.ke irotu his stupor of horror, and made an auetnpt to clutch her but then the nvdn force of the mighty water drove her away fro him towards the house her heloless *od_v was whirled round and round three times by the struggling eddies, and then harried away
like a feather rent.
CHAPTER XLV.
The mighty reflux, which after a short struggle, overpowered the rush of water from the windows, and cairied Grace Carden's helpless body awav from the tree, drove her of course back towards the houses, and she whirled passed Little's wind )w with fearful velocity, ju*t an he was going to leap into the flxd, and perish in an insane attemp: to save her. With a loud cry he seized her by long floating hair, and tried to draw her in at the window, but the mighty water pulled her from him fiercely, and all but dragged him in after her he was only saved by clutching the side *f the wail with his left hand: the flood was like some vast solid body drawing against liiiii arid terror begin to seize on his heart. He ground his teeth he set his knee against the horizontal projection of the window and that freed his left hand he suddenly be:z her arm with it, and, throwing himself backward with a jerk, tore her out of the water by an ert rt alino- superhuman. Such was the force exerted the torrent on one side, and the desperate lover on the other, tnat not her shoes only, but her stockings gartered, were torn off her in that fierce stuggle.
He had her in his arms, and cried aloud and sobbed over her, and kissed her wet cheeks, her lank hair, and her wet clothes. in a wdd rapture, lie went on kissin* her and sobbing ove-- her so wildly and so long, that Coventry, who had at first exalted with him at lur rescue, began to r«fge with jealousy. "Please remember she is my wife," he ahrieked "don't take advantage of her eondiliion, villain!" "Your wife, you scoundrel! You .stole her frnm me oner
Fearful as the situation was, a sicken ing horror was added to it by the- horrible smell of the water it had a foul and nppalliug odor, compound ef earthings and putrescence it smelt like a newlvopened grave it paralyzed like a serpent's breath.
Stout as yuung Little's heart was, it fainted no when he saw his bedstead, and his drawers, and his chair.s, all slowly riing towards the ceiling, lilted by all tljat cold, putrescent, liquid death.
But all men, and even animals, possess greater po.vers of mind, as well as of body, than they ever exert, unless compelled by dire necessity: and it would have been strange indeed if a heart a» stanch, and a brain so inventive, a3 Little's, had let his darling die like a rat drowned in a hole, without some new and masterly attempt first made to sare her
To that moment of horror and paraly succeeded an activity of mind and boJv almost incredible, lie waded to the lrawers, took hi* rifle, and fired both barrels at one place in the ceiling, bursting a hole, and catting a narrow joint almost in two. Then he opened at drawer, got an axe and a saw otr, and tried to wade to the bed, but toe water took him oil his feet, and he had t3 swim to it insie id he got on it, and with his axe and 60 contrived to paddle the floating bed under the hole in the ceiling, and with a few swift and powerful blows of his axe soon enlarged that aperture sufficiently but at that mojient the water carried the bedstead away from the place. 1 le !et to work with his saw and axe and padilcd back again.
Grace, by this time, wan up on her knees, and in a voice, the sudden firmness of wnieh surprised and delighted him asked if she could help. .'•Yes," said he,"voucan. Oa with my coat." 1
It lay on the beJ She helped him on with it, and then he put his axe and saw into the pockets, and told her to take hold of his skirt.
He drew himself up through the aper ture, and Grace, holding his skirts with her hands and the bed with her feet climbed adroitly on to the head of the bed—a French bed made of mahogany and Henry drew her through the aperture.
They vere now 01 the false ceiling, and nearly jammed against the roof Litle stkon hacked a great hole in that just above the parapet^and they crawled out upon the gutter.!V,i
They were now nearly as high as Cov» ventry on his tree but their house was ro:kin*. and his tree was firm.
THE
by the overwhelming tor-
UJW
In the next house were heard th"e despairing shrieks of po«r creatures who saw no way of evading their fate yet the way was as open to thc.n as this brave pair. "Oh, my angel," said Grace, "save them. Then, if yoj die, you will go to God."' "All right," said Henry. 'I hey darted down the gutter to the |t0
next house. Little hacked a hole i.i the
slates, and the wood-work, and was abut to jump in. when the house he had just lef tumbled all to pieces like a house of vagar, and ie debris went fleeting by, includ i, the bedstead that had helped to save them. "O God!'' cried Little, "this house must go next riin oi»to the last one." "No, Henry, I would rather die vith vou than live alone. Don't Oe frightened
for me, my angel. to Jesus." •*AJl rig.it,'* said trembled now.
come and take
her from me again. Why didn't you save her? She was near to you. You let her die she lives by ine, and for me, and I for her." With this he kissed her again, and held her to his btwom "D ye you see that?—liar! coward! villain!
Even across that tremendous body of rushing death, from which neither was really safe, both rivals' eyes gleamed hate at each other.
The wild beasts that a flood drives together on to some little eminence, lav down their natures, and the panther rouches and whimpers beside the antelope but the6e were men, and could entertain the fiercest cf human passions in the verv jaws of death.
To be Mire, it was but for a moment a new danger soon brought them both to tluir senses and elm came whirling past grazed Coventry's plane-tree: it was but a graze, yet it nearly shook him off into the flood* and he yelled with fear: almost at the Ka ne moment a higher wave swept into ittle's room, and the rising water set everything awash, and burst sver him as he kneeled with Grace. He got up drenched and halt" blinded with the~tur id water, and, taking Grace in his arms, waded waste hijh to his bed,and laid her down on it.
It was a mom ?nt of despair. D5at.l1 had entered that chamber in a new, unforseen and inevitable form. The ceiling was low, the wa (r was rising steadily the beaustead floated, his chest of drawerfloated, though his ritle and pistols lay on it, and the' top drawers were full of the tools he aiwavs had about him: in a few •nini'tes the rising water must inevitably jam Graee and him against tne ceiling and drown them like rats in a hole.
He jumped in, hacked a hole i-i the ceiling, and yelled to the inmates to give him their hands.
There was a loud cry of male and female voices. My child first," cried a woman, and threw ur a:»* infant, which Liltle eang'at and in led to Grace. She held it, wailin j. her breast.
Little dragged five* more souls up. Grace he!ped them out, and they ran along the gutter to the last house without saying "thank you."
The hou was rocking. Little an Grace went on to the next, and he smashed the root in, and then the ceiling, and Grace and he were getting the people out when the house thev had just left melted away, all but a chimney-stack, which adhered in jagged dilapidation to the house thev were now upm.
twenty-seven souls crouched if the gutter, or nung a'oout the roof of tnisoue house dome praying, but xt of them whining and wailing. "What is the use of howling,'' groaned Little.
He then drew his Grace to his panting bosom, and his tace was full of mortal agony.
She consoled him. "Never mi id. mv angel. God has seen you. He is good to us, and lets die together
At this moment the house give a roek, and there was a fresh burst of wailing.
This, connected with his own fears, enraged Henry. Be quiet," sail he, sternlv. "Why can't you die decernly, like your betters?"
Then he bent his head in noble silence over his beloved, an 1 devoured her tea tures a- those he might never see again.
At this mo iieat was head a sound like the report of a gun a large tree, whirled down by,the flood, struck the plane-tree just below the fork, and cut it in two a promptly as a seythe would go tnroug 1 a carrot.
It drove the upper part along, and, going with it kept it perpendicular for some time the white face and glaring eves of Frederick Coventry sailing 1st tho«e despairing lovers he made a wild cluth at them and «nk in the boiling current, and was hurried away.
This appalling incident silenced all who saw it, for a moment. Then they began to wail lou lcr than ever.
But Little -tirted to his teet, and cried, Hurrah!" Or Therv was a general groan. 1 "Hold your tongues," he roared. "I've got good news for you. The water was over the top windows now it is an inch lower. The reservoir must be empty by now. The water will go dosvn as fast as it rose. Keep quiet for two minutes, and you will see
Then no more wiis heard but the whimpering of the women, and, ever,now and then, the voice of Little he hung over the parapet, and reported every half-minute the decline of tne water it subsided with strange rapidity, as he had Horese^n.
In three minutes after he had noticed the first decline, he took Grace down through the rocf, on the second floDr.
W.ien Grace and Henry got there ihey started with dismay: the danger was no7 over: the front wall was blown clean out by the water all but a jagged piece hap .d like a crescent, and it seemed a miracle that the roof, thus weaked and cro.vded with human beings, had not fallen in. -i) "i -m)! "We must get out of this," said Little "It all hangs together by a thread."
He called the others down from the root and tried to get down by the staircase, but it was -broken into sections and floating about.
Then he cut into the floor near the wall, and, to his infinite surprise, found the first fluor withir. four feet of him. Tne flood had lifced it bodily more than six feet.
He dropped on to it, and made Grace ltt herself down, beside him, he holding her round the waist, and lnnding her light as a featner.
Henry then nacked through the doort which was jammed tigh and, the water subsiding, presently the wrecks of the staiicase left off floating, and stuck in the mud and water: by this means they managed lo get do.vp, and found themselves in a layer of mud, and stone and debri.", aliv»* and dead, such as no imagination had hitherto conceived.
Dreading, however, to remain in a houe so disemboweled within, and so shattered witho-t, that it seined to survive by me cohesion of mortar, he begged Giace to put her arm round his neck, and then lifted her and carried her out into the night. "Take me home to papa, my angel,' said si.e.
He said he would, and tried to find hi* way to the road which he knew led up thehili to Woodbine Villa. But all landmarks were gjnt: houses, trees, hedges, all swept away roads covered three feet thick with rocks, and stne^, and bricks, and carcasses. The pleasant valley was one horrid quagmire, in which he could take few steps burdened as he was, without sticking or stumbling against some sure sign of destruction and death, within the compass cf fifty yards he found a steam boiler and its appurtenances (they must have weighed some tpns, yet they nad been driven over a mile), and a dead cow, and the body of a wagon turned upside down: (the wheels of this same wagon were afterwards found fifteen miles from the body.)
He began to stagger and pant. "Let me walk, my angel," taia Grace. "I'm not a babv."
She held his hand tight, and tried to walk with him step by step. Her white feet shone in the pale moonlight.
They made for rising ground, and were rewarded by finding the debrii less mas-ive.
'The flood must have been narrow
min or
e-ernI
TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE
Save lives, and trust
Little but his voice
hurried from sleep
'i- '"1 eternity. They shuddered and crawled on, still
making for higher grouid, but sore perplexed. Presently they heard a sort of a sigh. They went towards it, and found a poor horse sudk "his efforts to escape being hi trred by a heavy stone to which he was haltered.
Henrv patted aid encouraged him, and
sawed, through the halter then he! wiU»
put Grace on him. She sat across him and held on bv the mane. The horae, being left to himself, tamed back a little, and cossed the quagmire till he gtinto a brills road, and this landed them high and dry on the turnpike.
Here they stopped, and, by one impulse, embraced each other, and thanked God for their wonderful escape.
But soon Henry's exultation too'i a turn that shocked Grace's religious s-e itiments, which recent acquaintance had strengthened. •'Yes," he cried, "now I believe that Go 1 really does interpose in earthly things I believe every thing yes'crday I believed nething. The one villain is swept away, and we two are miraculously saved. Now we can marry to-niurrow —no, to-day, for it is past midnight. Oh, how good He i-, especially for killing that scoundrel out of our way. Without his death what was life worth to me?
1
Hut no—»h, heavens! is it a 1 a dream? llurrah. hurrah! hurrah!" Oh, Henry, my love!'' said Grace im-
Thev were now upon the last. ''1 hacked funouslv through the roof and ceiling, and go» the people out an I ploringly, "pray, pray do not offent Him
by rejoicing at such a moment over the death, perhios the everlasting death, of a poor, sinful fellow-creature" "All right, deares\ O dv don't let us descend to hypocrisy. I thank heaven he is dead, and so do you *K •'Pray, don't say so 4 *. "Well, I won't let him go. rath settles all accounts. Did you see me stretch out my hand to save him?" "I did, my angel, and it was like you: you are the noV.estanc* the greatest creative that ever is or, ever will be."
The silliest
HI
mean.
4
1
wondered
at myself next minute. Fancy me being such an ideot as to hold out a hand to save him, and so wither both our lives—yours and mine bur I suppose it is agiinst nature not to hold out a hand. Well, no harm came of it, thank heaven!-'
Let us of ourselves said Grace,! lovingly. "My darling, let no ha- sii! thoug.it ir thfc joy of this hour. You 1 have saved life again. W.ll, then, ic is doub'v yoars. Here, looking on the dea we have just e-»ciped, I devote mvseit to you. You don't know how I lo 'e you but you sh ill. I adore von." 'M love you better stiii "You do not: vou can't. It is the one thing I can beat you at, and I will." "Trv. When will vou be mine?"' 'I am yours. I Jul. if you mean when will I marry you, wliv, whenever vou please. We have iffered too cruelly, and loved too d-arlv. fr tne to put you off a single day for affectations and vani ties. When you ple »se, my own."
At this Henry kissed her little white feet with rapture, and kept kissing theoa at intervals, all the rest of the way: and the horrors of the night ended to these two, i-a unultenble rapture, as they piced to WpoJbine Villa with hearts full of wonder, gratitude and joy.
Here they found lights burning, and learned from a servant thai Mr. Careen was gone down to the scene of the flood in great agitation.
Ilenrv told Grace not to worry herself, for that he would find him and relieve his fears.
He then made Gracc promise to go to bed at once, and lie wiMii a bl i.ikets. She didn't like that idea, but c)oicnted. "It is my duty to obey you in e/ery thing," she said.
Henry left her, and ran down to the Town Hall. He was in that glorious state of bliss in which noble minds long to do good and comfort the living survivors of the terrible disaster he had so narrowly escaped.
He found but one policeman there the rest, and Ransome at their hesd, were doing their best, all but two, drowned on their beat in the very town of Hillsborough. [TO BECONTINUED.] (or, it
W A I W A S I N O N KNOW—WHO. WAS IIE^" A N W A
We don't like to be irreverent, but would like to ask, what did our forefathers know? What, for instance, did
George saw a tast mail
Washington kno.v? He never train. He never held
his ear to a telephone. He never sat for his picture in a photograph gallery. He n«Sver received a telegraph dispatch. He never sighted a Kruop gun. He never listened to the "fizz" of an electric pen. He never «aw a pretty girl run a sewing machine. He never saw a seifpropeiling engine go down a street to a fire. He never took laughing ga«. lltr never attended an international Expisition. He never saw a steamboat, lie n-ver h-ard 'of evolution. He never o-vned a bonaiza rnin?. He never knew ''Old Prob He—but why go un? No when he took an excursion it was on a fl it-boat. Wnen he wen off on a train, it was a mule train. VV lien he wanted to talk to a man in Milwaukee, lie had to go there. When lie had his picture taKen,'it was dene in profile with a piece of black paper and a pair 1 shear-. Wiaen he got the returns from back counties they had to be brought in by a man with a. ox-cart. When he took aim atthti enemy, he had to trust to a c. oo» ed-barr.kd old ftint-loc*. Wnen he wote it wa* with a oose-quill.
When he had anything to mend, his grandmo:her did 'it with a darningneedle. When he went to a fire, tie stood in ltne, and passed buckets. When he looked at a clam, he never dreamed it was relation of his. When he went to a concert, he heard a cracked fiddl* and an insane clarionet. When he had a tooth pulled, he sat down and never left off yelling. When he got out of teeth he mummed his victuals. When he wanted an International Show, he sent for Lafayette and ordered his friends up from Old Virginia with the specimens carefully labeled in bottles. When he once got hold of a nugget of gold from an Indian chief, he felt rich. When he wanted to know anything about- the weather,he consulted the ground hog or goose bone. When—but wny go on? What did such
a man
hereabouts," said Henry. We shall Echo answers who was he?-lChicago soon be clear of it, I hape." Journal. atlVn Soon after this, they came under a short but sturdy oak that had survived and, entangled in its close and crooked branches, was some thing white. They came nearer it was a dead body, some "Come on P°jr
know? Who was he, anyway?
DEGENERATE RABBITS. From the London Quarterly Iijv.ew: In the year 1419 a few rabbits were born on a Spanisti ship and put on the Ulanl of Porie Santo. Tritre were no bea.-ts of prey tiere, and these little animals increased so enormously ai to become a pent to the country and compelled a colo.ay to remove from »t. They ar. still the e, but ia the course of four hu dred and fifty yean they have become a-doecies," tliey have a peculiar color, a rat-like shape, are small in «ize, live a noturnal life and are of extrene wildnts.. And no.v they rrfa^e even to pais
U!e
up, but ilenrv held hins and arise. 4
fcur,*•«*».for.n
tro.n w*u£» .urey
SECRET ORG OIZ A HON S.
AJPaper on the Subject by Past Grand-I
istcr
...
Workman,
S.T. Darnell
Heal Betirfl tho A. O. (T. IV. Giand Here*
In civilized communities men associate. themselves lbr various purposes. The greater part of the world's work is done by associated effort. Not only does combinations result in greater efficiency of labor, but it is much more pleasant for the workmen to labor together than to labor alone a great pirt of the bitterness and burden oftoil, is removed by the fellowship of labor. Men work together, therefore, not only because it is more p-ofiiable, bat because also, it is as a rule more agreeable: To this result we find ,,
It is thought by many that labcr is the penalty of sin. That if it haJ not been for the fall we would have ex.sled somehow without work. A most unwarrantable interference. Doubtless the tended cy of moral evil is to make work more difficult, hazardous, and painful. But if theie were not and never had been moral evil in the world, there wou stil! be need of labor. If you would go back to the story of Genesis for your theories on this subject,you must remember, that before the fall, "G took the man and put him into the garden to dress it and keep it.'' So work is no part of the curse. It is pari ot the original divine constitution. Laziness is the curse. The terrible inertice of body and sou', the unwillingness to labor, which makes some men paupers, tome frauiiers, and gome i-windlers and 6ome thieves. That is the result or the fall, one of its worst and bitterest result From that remote day when Adam was commanded to word in the garden, to the day when Hugh Miller discovered the footprintsof the Almighty in the "old red sand-tone." has ttiis been changed, nor Will it be till the sun sets for the last time 0.1 earth, it that tiu.e shall ev«_r be l-he same to-day as before the flood, and for tens of thousands ot yealrs before ir, it is God's decree that man shall laboi, and tnose who do are of his nobility. Idleness, and its twin brother dissipatijn, are no part of the economy of creative pow er.' Action developes the man, and not less his physical, than hij mental powers. i'his is as necessary as isunshine to the vegetable kingdom. It is the cornerstone of '.he living, breathing tenement of man. It gives strenght to the frame, hue and color to the cheeks, expansion to the chest, and volume to the lungs. Employment,'steady, daily employment, is the only guarantee of health, the solace of lite, and the only true avenue leading up to honor and renown. It is the strong argument against the scaffold, the peni e.itiary, the almhouse, and the asylum. The only true sphere in which man can move with dignity, and fulfill the ends of his destiny. There are other occupation?, of course, besides manual iapor. I do not pretend hat these should not be pursued or respected many of these are necessary, and in all of them there is work. Though not necessarily manual labor, they should be respected No useful, mental or physical employment should be condemned, but rather idleness and dissipation. A lite ot activity— useful activity—is the part of every true man. The laboring classes demand that they be put on an equality wuh all tne righa and privileges in which justice and reason would give all other clashes They demand thai tne common right* of humanity be respected by the rich and powerful. They ask only a reasonable share of the profi'.s arising from their toil—sufficient to clothe and feed them-elves dece atjy— they well know that capital is only incidental to labor. Labor is first. It is ia— bor that confers individual wealth, poorer, and p. ojp rity, as well as renown to the ate, and really establishes the character of the government. If the state is enriched, made strong in political power, and finniv tianccJ on the sbould^r^ ot her laboring clashes possessed of all those element which enable her to repe'.l invasion, make conq sts, aud suppress in ternal co amotion, should she cot like aa in il^ oar -nt wno reward* his r.* fur ^ev-.ttd
JU.RI
niattiUm'
treat he- eit'z-ns with kindness and and great
c:n»:d
oration? Tnis hat Mt
b?cn the rule ofar as concerns the Illation of the state. Hereto&vef there seems to have fcaen' a more careful cnsidera"im of inccrporative wealth, th of in«li«U-% ual enterprise, an anxiety to protect capital and permit labor to labor on unheeded, unaided, struggling for itself—of secondary, or in fact of importances whatever. Combinations if ipital have succeeded in reaching tie legislative* ear with more favor than appeal of laboring men This class usually o:caajr back sea's 1:1 the political synago^te. The appeal of labor has no response. "It has no money in it." A man has no right to be poor. The State has no duties to perform for him. Ineo rative wealth and power boldly and unblusJriag stalks at noon day into the legislative halls and makes its demand. No ftitr minded man will pretend that labor shall*
lVv parli pr vUege ip Ie
the trouble, motive of interest and pleis- Every fair minded man will sav. howure contributing. Benevolence, too. brings men together. There are societies for the promotion of temperance, and societies fur the relief of the suffering, and societies comm inly secret for mutual assistance and pro ection. The same principal h-»lds god in our religious life, the churches as well as the workshops, the schools and the secred lodges, are organizid under this law. In the great work of benevolent activity, as in every other work. Tne same prinpie applies. But it is ur purpose on this occasion to speac more especially of those organizations, formed by wo-kin men. partly for social purposes, and partly far the improvement of their uircu 11 stances. In almost all trades such associations are formed. They have grown out of tt.e conflict between ca itol and labor and are itendc-d mainly for offensive and defensive warfare. The attempt has also been mule to unite the guilds that represent tae various trades in one great nation il lab organization so that a concertel move ne.it may be made *t anytime by the whole bjd/ ot' workmen to rece ve a beneli. of sotn •. ki 1 i, either of wages or privileges, an I thou jh this is not yet been accomplished entirely, yet we have every reason to believe that such a comoination will be formed at no distant day. To one who is familiar with the history of labor,from the earliest times in this and other countries, these aseo ciations ot the sons of toil—the true nobility of any country—must appear a* the first substantial movement against the oppression of capital, and for the elevation anil advancement of that class, who alone support the pillars of state, and lay the foundations of a nation's glory. The spirit of oppression never did a greater wrong than by the degrada tion of labor. But it has been reserved for our a^e to assert the dignity as well as the necessity of labor. It has been in sertea in fui mer times that labor was dishonorable and degrading. That the laboring classes ought to be servile classes. But' fallacy has been pretty efficiently exul jded. Though it took not a little gun jwder to do it. It is now generally admitted in this count that labor is jnorahle. But there is anoth step lo take It must be made equally as c.ear tn.it labor is nOt opt'onal—but imperative. That it is imperative, too, upon all men and women aline— tha have sound minds and bodies. That it is not only respectable to work, but that it is not respectable to be idle
Grand Lodycof A. O. U. W., Terrei Haute, February i9fh, 1878. Dowtiag^.
MISCELLANEOUS
VJILVRRY SOFTNESS
J*-,
'Jji
ADVERTISEMENTS-
A PEERLESS EXTERNAL SPECIFIC AND BEAUTIFJER OF THE SKIN.
GLENN'S
SULPHUR SOAP. I
As a remedy for DISEASES, SORTTS, An:tv io:vs, and ROUGHNESS OK TIIR S:CIN as a dtodo -iscr, disinfectant, and means of preventing, and curing Rlietimutism and Goat and as an ADJUNCT
ITF
THE
TOILET anl
a i:l
TIIK
through the
c'inlying and emollient action of th'l V.itor.ESOMS
BSAUTIFIER.
V'ha contraction of obnoxious di» eCiscs is prevented, and the complete disinfection of clothing worn by persons afflictcd with contagious mat riles insured by it. FAMILIES and TRAVELEns provided with this admirable p-ari-fier
HAVE AT HAND TIIS
MCritteatra, Prop'r, 7 Sixth Av.LI.
J^J-oriCBOFSVliB. ,*% Notlei Is »ieret»y givea Vftaf t'* wi'f sell at® put.lie a'ic.t'on, on PrWav. th 1 #th lav of Maici 187s bt. the res lenoo of Dr. 8cr« Rca I, lalt! of Vi.^o County. 1 'CMb-ot-l all hi| p-'.rsui a p*flje if (nottaken bv tho wlrtowj* ons»stiu^ o-io tiortfc, busies AA*-*ets,fc lirs, -Uove«. Jieits-eu'ls, burls mil daiaglm tab'e*. Iiiir. .us. pictures, and hu eho lino! thelc t'-h fnrninne anu in my her artlcl too niiwti"t. 1r mention.
Vciclttofa.ii.nl will bo
al* suras ove hro toll *rs th .- uim-itMerg fli*i ft i'»tt» viih appr-jve.l a urity waiving^ vulu t:on and .»ppr'» (HTK*nt a v», with interest jroru -I i~-. 1. KI.ACK. \il u'T'R. "Black 1 ajk, Atty*. for Ailin't'r. P-MI'h,WX. 'W
KAI.AKV. I^RROFLFN'TU
npeddllDf. K.rprn*ajuH.
8.
vyoi ks of »rt .triv'-n irec price *8 so low that One afcvDt in king vrwlt A 'au a^ent rfpona tak ng over subsc iberg in ten d:iv.«. All win eugagA? make mone last. You can devote alt yot»r» ineto the ,or oi.l\ \onr aparc tHue.as You need not be away from home ov night.* Yon can 'o it as hi other*. Kill. .. rdaTS, iiie t-i-im a» il »crm« 'ret Elegant' and t-xpen iv r»*e. If you want prafitabl. worK u-' or lre«j at once. Iti* coats nothing'i u.v thebuBincss NoonotrhOT? »gH» fal rrrat p. A.llre»*,®* •1 he itn ni fnrt.ifcwl. Maine, rg """"'JL*ST iv nifcft v,ar'1. Snnt:r. lYitch Frt'.ti /J.TJCKU. AJARUSA. A. CCUI/T£& 6A OO.. CHAWTK.
1
December ig, 1877. a ASA M. BLACK, Administrator
1 1 1
.j.
IOJ
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1
's
I
,islati#n.
ever, that labor should have equal privileges with capital, equality, even,ju6t* and full measure, f*
Laboring in in the Unite State* have unfurled the dazali ig fl ig of equ ility in even-thing. The breeze h-Mi' caug it up its fo'us, and Buropa to day iv under shade. It is an escutchen of laboring men as well as an ensign ofhope. Bat lab .r is to be ide honorable. This can be brought abutby la-" boring men themselves. The spirit of the nation can be properly moulded by the great multitude, who earn their living1 by trie sweir of their biow. It is in thefcr wer to det.r nine the social status of lab r. It is for t'lem 10 lead, not to follow. To lav down the rule, and fix the standard of respectabi'ty. It is bt»t for them t.» resolve, and there is a potency in it, which oannot be resisted. beca«se it is the pulsation of the great heart of the great majority,
1
-l?
\U
'.i
Bvrn,
"CR.'T.NN'S SULPHUR SOAP" is incora- -F p.ira 'y the best article ever offered to i.':e A ncrican public.
The COMPLEXION is not only freed '•oin PIMPLES, BLOTCHES,TAN, FREC.C-t.-:s, and all other blemishes, by it: use, bat acquires a
TRANSPARENT D&L.'C/WCV
il
1
M\tv Essrv-
TIAL OF A SERIES OF
SlllpllHI' TittffW.
A. GHAXT CQt Home St.. Cincinnati, tN
-i-
rj -j
1
Dandruff is removed, the hair retauicC and 'Tiyness retarded by it. I Medical men advocate its use. .»*•
Prias-25 and50 Cents per Cake per3ix(3 Cakesh 60c. and $1.20. N. I!. —Sent by Mail, Prepaid, on receipt of prioa, ands cents extra for each Cake. "HILL'S HAI2 ATTD W3I3KS3 DYE," {I Black or Drown, 09 Cents*
,11 4i
:i
ITIVOT ON^
Vu' ~r
to dvai* A
4
if
are rhrtneero make money***
IjlJl II If roucaii't get {fold you ran get tf grt-en*uoU-». We ne^u a persoii in cv ry town to ta^o ^ulMoriptions tor tbe. largest, hi'«|ost, un«i lc-*t Illustrate! trai* ly piibucii inn in hew d. Any aoe-oaa/ bet'ouic aicent. Tb« in iit.' l«yantv b-M-r. i- The ,y xub£ribes. ovtir $150 perjjl
-I,-
^. 'f'
1 1 1
Trade Dollars flat Legal Tenfor But yon can toy at the new grocery of
Charles Eickmeier,"
Gorn.ir of IfVtb ad Lafayette streets, in Jake Btsaoei^e OJ4 etan.l. 13)i !b» ni *iew Orltjaas eu g*r M. JIM 3 enn ee 1 0#a tx.ra 1M II v. juetadraC
S ana lM5-* ,\u un tisr itisic? in )/roporti»n. Call ee in CHAJtliilSiSltKMEIEH.
I
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4.
4
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iX'
AOMINlSTRATOlVs NOHCE. ... Notice i-h-rcbv «)ven that lhe under-f signed his been ap.. itcd administrator de boni^ tu.» of u».? e?t.ite of Joseph Greggs, late of Vign county, deceased. Said estate supposed to be solvent.
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