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Ittttttiton f pectator^ EtOSXax wad. Proprietor. TERMS, $2.00 A YEAR. {SWltemlttances should be made hy check, draft, postal order, or registered letter. PROFESSIONAL. CARTER BRAXTON. ATTOHN E V- AT-LAW, No. 23 S, Augusta St. Special attention given to collections. CS. W. BARNES, . ATTOHNEY-AT-LAW, NoJK West Main Street, sept 27-tf Staunton, Va. WH. LANDES, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. No. 2, Court House Square, aug fl-tf HUGH G. EICHELRERGER, ATTOHNEY-AT-LAW. Staunton, Va. t^"Prompt attention to collections. A LEX. F. ROBERTSON, l\ ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. Office No. 4 Lawyers' Row, in rear of Court house. DR. D. A. BUCHER DENTIST. Office iv Crowle Building, Room 25, 3rd floor Office hours from 9 A, M. to 6 P. M. may 27 R. S. Turk. Henry W. Holt. TURK & HOLT, ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW, No. 8 Lawyers' Row, Staunton, Va. J A. ALEXANDER, . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, No. 6, Court House Alley Staunton, Va. mar 12-tf JM. QUAHLES, . ATTORNEP-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. fob 17, '86-tf JOS. A. GLASGOW, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Room 5, No. 23 S. Augusta Street, Skinner Building. STAUNTON, VA. aug 10-tf THOMAS C. KINNEY, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW South Augusta Street, Staunton, Va. Room No. 3, Up Stairs. tW Collections will receive prompt atten tion, sep 25-tf VINFIBLO I.IOGETT, 11. V. STSAYKIt, C M. Ki:F.ZEL Harrisonburg. Harrisonburg. Staunton rIGGETT, STRAYER k KEEZEL, j ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW. STAUNTON, VA. Priiuuit aud eiflclsnt attention *« to all eiusiiiess given to their care. Strayer a; Lig gett will continue the practice of law at Har risonburg, as heretofore. *2sf Office in County building, over Treasur er's Office. * \\l. H. M. PATTERSOH, I > STAUNTON, VA. Otter ils - c es cir in 1 services to the citi zens o. - -unijii. No. 131, East Mtain Street. T H. CROSIER, fl . ATTOHNEY-AT-LAW. Office in County building above the Sheriff's office. STAUNTON, VA. Prompt attention given to all legal business entrusted to him, iv "State or Federal Courts. lune l-tf T> E. R. NELSON, attorney-at-law and commissioner in Chancery. OFFICE No. 10 LAWYERS' ROW*, Jan 4-tf STAUNTON, VA. CI EORGE M. HARRISON, JT ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. Offers his professional services to the public generally. Will practice in all the courts held in the city of Staunton and Augusta county; attend regularly the Circuit Courts of Rock bridge and Alleghany counties and practice in the Court of Anneals at Staunton. dec * C. BRAXTON, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR. OFFICE. —Crowle Building opposite Y. M. C. A. Special attention given to corporation and real-estate law. Having closed up all outside business, which for a year or two interrupted my regular law practice, I am now enabled to, and shall, from lthis time, give my undivided time and axclu slve attention to the law; and to such persons as my entrust me with their litigation, I prom ise my best efforts and such ability as 1 may possess. jan IS-tf ■BP"*^H" = PARKER'S " HAIR BALSAM j HP^SBir^— JW Clffli- -■-■» and beautifies the hair. 1 ** flfl Promotes a luxuriant growth. ..HNever Fails to Bestore Gray H:lir to its Youthful Color. Curl's sc&ip diseases & hairtalling. Übc Parker's Ginger Tonic. It cures the worst Cough, Weak Lungs, Debility, Indigestion, Pain, Take in time. 50cts. HINDERCORNS. The only mire cure for Corns. ESSwßfi.Bh< atiruggisti, or 11ISCOX & CO., X, Y. 1 4 4ts HENGH&DBOMGOLD'S SAWMILLandEHSIKES A wonder-rial improvement in Frsr-ri.m r*".de-net! fljsj TTn"lr Hack motion ol' (.a; - - three limes' as fast as any other in tlia market. Friction Clutch !".'•■ '■ cc. v iT nil 11..'fee em ring to Stand ■tinwhile rot saving ia s>..»er mul „. c;1 ,.. • lor i ir.-nl —' and ;-■ - ' rntelii I fneu ,: Alao Sprint! Tooth 11-ir. ro\v». ' ■•■■*. Cultivators, fer..n r'.aiit crs e-h.-d.-rs, etc. Mention this paper. HENGK & ORBM6GLD, Manfrs,, YORK. PA. jin-jl- Smog What is Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher's prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years' use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria is the Children's Panacea —the Mother's Friend. Castoria. Castoria. "Castoria is so well adapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, I recommend it as superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhcea, Eructation, known to me." H. A. Archer, M. D., Kills Worms, givees steep, and promotes di -111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. gestion, "Without injurious medication. *' The use of ' Castoria' is so universal and its merits so well known that it seems a work .. For years T havo recommended of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the your . castoria,' and shall always continue to intelligent families who do not keep Castoria do so as it has invariably produced beneficial within easy reach." results." Carlos Martyn, D. D., Edwin F. Tardee, M. D., New York City. 125 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City. The Centaur Company, 77 Murray Street, New York Cm Staunton ilii Spectator, VOL. 71. j£L\ The Old Friend And the best friend, that never fails you, is Simmons Liver Regu lator, (the Red Z) —that's ■what you hear at the mention of this excellent Liver medicine, and people should not be persuaded that anything else will do. It is the King of Liver Medi cines; is better than pills, and takes the place of Quinine and Calomel. It acts directly on the Liver, Kidneys and Bowels and gives new life to the whole sys tem. This is the medicine you want. Sold by all Druggists in Liquid, or in Powder to be taken dry or made into a tea. J9-F.VERV PACKAGE'S* Has the Z Stamp In red on wrappers J. H. ZKIIsIN St CO., Philadelphia, Pa. June 28-lv. flours lor Arrival ana" Closing of Mails at Staun ton Postoffice. ARRIVE. BY C. AND O. UAILROAD. 5 a. m. from north, south, east and west. 0.15 a. m. from west. 2.30 p. m. from Clifton Forge and Intermediate points, 11.5(1 a.m. from Richmond and intermediate points. 6.45 p. m. from north, east and south. by B. and o. 7.04 a. m. from Lexington and intermediate points. 1.40 p. m. from the north. 8.45 p. m. from the north, Harper's Ferry and intermediate points. STAII ROUTES. 7 a. m. from Plunkettsville, dally except Sun day. 10 a. m. from Mt. Meridian, daily except Sun day. 5 p. m. from Middlebrook, daily except Sun day. 5.30 p. m. from Monterey, daily except Sunday. CLOSE. FOR B. AND O. ii.3o a. m. tor Lexington, Harper's Ferry and points north. 11.23 a. m. for Harrisonburg, W"oodstock and points north. 1.10 p. m. for Lexington. 4.00 p. .ii. for Fort Defiance. ti.oo p. in. for Lexington and Intermediate points. FOB C AND O. 8.45 a. m. and 2 p. m. for north, east, south. 11.00 p. in. for east, north, south aud west. 11.25 a. ni. for Clifton Forge and interniedinte points. 6.00 p. m. for tho west. STAB ROUTES—DAILY EXCEPT SUNDAY. 5.30 a. m. for Monterey. ti.oo a. m. for Middlebroolc. 1.00 p. m. for Mt. Meridian. 0.15 p. m. for Plunkettsville. ; 12.30 p. m. for Mt. Solon, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. STAUNTON OFFICE Opens 7a. in., closes 7 p. m. Money order and registry business opens at 8 a. m., closes 6 p. m W. T. McCUE. P. M. : REMOVAL OF THE LADIES ,\ilD GENTLEMErIS RESTAURANT! The undersigned have removed their Ladles and Gentlemen's Restaurant to the Hurley Building on the corner of Main and Lewis Streets, where they hope their old patrons will call upon them as heretofore as they will be better prepared to accommodate them. They will take regular boarders, to a number of whom they can furnish lodging or i ent rooms as well as board at cheap rates. Remember the place—Hurley Building, second story, corner Main and Lewis Streets. MARGARET & LUCY CAUTHORN. feb 3rd Virginia Hotel STAUNTON,V. J. C. SCHEFFER. - Proprietor Relurnisliefl and Refitted Tiirougliont The Restaurant In connection with the hotel is always supplied with the best, the very best, the market affords Steamed Oyster and Chafing Dish Stews a Specialty A First-Class Meal for2sCts. Finest Cafe In the City. eu'.rii 5 'al A MIDNIGHT CRY. j There are far worse places than a j "ountry inn after a hard day's struggle ; through a snowstorm on horseback, es- I pecially if that inu be situated in the 1 iieart of a picturesque region much lie loved hy summer tourists, if tlie host has keen taught thereby tlie art of making •omt'ortable and is inclined, through leisure, to exercise it. I was glad, there fore, when I drew up before the old fash ioned hostelry, for the night was coming lowi fast with cold and cloud and blackness in its train. I was still 10 miles away from Grafton, my destina tion, and any further attempt at reach ing it would be apt to end in a snow drift. So, willingly enough, I suffered Princess to he led away to a box stall, willingly enough I m allowed the steam ing punch which the landlord deftly mixed for me, willingly enough I thawed and revived before the fervent hickory logs on the taproom hearth until I was called into tho great deserted dining room, where chicken and eggs and slioes of fried potato and tender cakes, afloat in butter, were awaiting me. Willingly enough, too, after I had met these most captivating enemies and they were mine, did I ensconce myself in an easy chair before the cheery grate in the best front chamber and over a cigar meditate on my good fortunes. Yes, it was bgst from every point of view that I should be here. The increas ing tempest, howling around the angles and under the eaves, warned me to be thankful for perils avoided. Recollection assured me that the Grafton tavern af forded no such entertainment, and then was it not well that I should have fur ther time to consider my mission before chance met certainty face to face? Had Eunice forgiven me, and, even so, w*as forgiveness necessarily the herald of re turning love? Ten years, truly, must assuage the most poignant grief, ten years must tem per anger with humane excuses, but might they not also fade a passion into a dream and a dream into a sorrowful reminiscence? But no. Eunice's nature could never become apathetic. If she had loved me that terrible day when I rushed despairingly from her sight, she loved me still. She had never married, so my friends told me. She was living with her father in that old house at Grafton—that dear old house, so replete with coziness and hospitality until that cloud of horror had burst over it! Had she forgiveu me? Did she still love me?' Come, living embers, imbued with thought, reveal my future to me. In their trauquil but intense glow I seemed to see my dar ling's eyes as they gazed on me that morning—deep, pensive, mournful eyes, so true, so beseeching in their truth. "Don't go, Harry," they had said. "I know you too well not to know your weakness. I love you too well not to dis regard them." But I—l was over whelmed with shame. Like Cain, my punishment was greater than I could bear. Forth I went a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth. Throughout the adventurous years that followed—years that proved, however cowardly I really was, that I could still be courageous— those dear eyes had gazed on me beseech ingly, reproachfully, until at last they had drawn me to my native land, until now they were drawing me to that spot which innocent blood, still unavenged, made it seem profanation for me to ap proach. "Ah, well," I mused. "It's idle to speculate. The morning will surely tell. Why should I not be patient and hope? I was but a boy then. Why should I have been expected—but no, I must not think of it. If I do, that whole horrible nightmare will return to me with un diminished reality." I threw away my cigar, rose from my chair and strolled about the room. Yes, the landlord had given me his best with the graciousness born of superabun dance. Probably I was the sole guest, but no, there was some one directly over head. A restless some one from the way he was pacing up and down the floor, a stalwart some one from the weight of his tread. But I had the best notwith standing. This room had a clinging air of home about it. Likely it was occupied year after year by the same summer boarders. The curtains were tied back with coquettish bows. There were vases and fly blown photographs on tho man tel, and on the bureau thero were crewel work mats. In a recess were shelves lined with books, and on the top a coil of stout fish ing line which bespoke the taking of pickerel. Why did I, ordina rily indifferent to my surroundings, no tice so small a detail as this latter, yes, and calculate that its strength must be great? I don't know. Ido know, how ever, that a realization of this vagary made me uneasy, so I turned to the books as to a refuge. full maturity? Does a renewed reading gratify through intolerance, or does it act as a spur to exoteric recollections? 1 know that, though there were several works attractive in promise to me, I se lected "Jane Eyre," conscious that I had read it years before, oblivious, though, under what circumstances and perhaps unconsciously curious regarding them. 1 resumed my seat by the fire, and for an hour or more I yielded to the charm of the story—for an hour or more, and then of a sudden a tremor of terror, alas, not new, swept over me. Unsuspecting, 1 had read on and on until I had reached that scene where Jane in her new position ol governess to Rochester's child is overcome by that Kiwful scream in tho night. Ah, ler 1 trembled, no wonder I re ed. I had been reading this very 'ore going to bed on that very , that never to be forgotten even ears ago. dry had I selected it? If memory nting, w*hy had not instinct me from it, as one sometimes ast slumbers may start and thus recurring dream of evil? And raa too late! I had said that I would not think of those maddening events, and here they were rushing pell mell through my brain. I tossed the book into a corner, with a curse after it, I lighted a cigar, and gazing into tho fire, now gray and half dead, this is Ten years before I had been a youth, "Nimium Fortunatus," the only son of a wealthy man, strong, well favored, well educated and, above all, beloved. The Mainwariugs were old family friends. From childhood Eunice and I had been comrades; from childhood I had loved her. At this time we wero affianced, and 1 was visiting at their cozy, comfortable, old fashioned home at Grafton. There were but three in the household besides the servants—the fa ther, the mother, the daughter. Mr. Mainwaring was a bluff, hearty man, Derr.-m.iiit from success and inorednlous j STAUNTON, VA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2,% 1894. of Ills which ho had never personally known. Mrs. Mainwaring was an in valid, confined to her room hy one of those chronic nervous diseases which the lacking in sympathy are apt to pooh pooh. Eunice was a devoted daughter truly. As for Mr. Mainwaring, it was generally: "You are looking much bet ter today, my dear. Well, so long," with him. Cut Mrs. Mainv.aring did nut crave for company. She was a strong woman, fully as eccentric as she was sick, fond of her own society and of polishing aud arranging a lot of trump ery gems ami coins and cnrios to which rumor had given an inordinate value. On this particular night, which I was now perforce recalling, Mr. Mainwaring was away in town ou "business"—his business perhaps that is pleasure. Mrs. Mainwaring was, of courevj, in her room and alone.! by express desire. Eunice and I had passed charming hours together in the quaint, shadowy drawing room, at first at the wheezy old piano and then planning that impossible future which seems i;o probable to all lovers. "Good nigLl, dear," she had said on parting. "The night is good, since it smiles on our love." And indeed the night was glorious in its lucent tranquillity. I stood at tho window for awhile and looked out on the shimmer and the glitter of the heavens. Glorious, truly, but was it sympathetic? Was there not something derisive in its smiles, as if human af fairs, when considered at all, must be contemned? I turned away with a sigh vaguely apprehensive. I stopped in the library aud took a book by chance. It was ' 'Jane Eyre.'' Then I went to the wing where my room was situated. Be neath it was the great dining hall; above it, the snit devoted to Mrs. Main waring; adjacent to it, vacant guest chambers. It was still early; so, lighting a cigar, I sat before the glowing grate and read, as tonight I have sat and smoked and read. As my reading progressed and my in terest deepened, so, too, did that vague apprehension settle and solidify. I have ever been susceptible to influences little regarded by tho world in general. I can feel the gathering of a storm and the break of a cloud. I can catch the whim sical thought of a companion before it is uttered. lam moved by the spirit that has moved an author in writing certain passages. I am happy in the prevision of prosperity and dejected by the forebod ing of evil. Without realizing it, for some time I had been glancing uneasily from my page about tho room. My hands, usually hot, gradually grew cold and damp. I got up from my seat and looked in the mirror. My face was livid, Imy lips were wan, and my eyes glowered deep in their sockets. What malign thing had come upon me? Something. I could not tell. I would not yield! I was interested in the book. I would persist in its reading! I did despite my fidgets. I read on and on until I came to that scene where Jane was so terrified by that weird, horrid scream. Then, when I had grasped its details by fitful comprehen sive glimpses, in an in thralling panic I sprang to my feet, hurried off my cloth ing, blew out the light, and jumping into bed pulled the coverlids over my head. Oh, how cold I was, and how frighten ed! How anxious to speak to some one and how ashamed of myself! How con scious of my full 21 years of manhood, yet of my undeniable babyish sensibil ity! I could have cried from rage to think that I was like to cry from terror! Well, I tareml '< d;u body and shivered inspirit until at iength I grew warm and drowsy iie;.ei vjry exhaustion, and at last I slept. I lov long my slumbers continued I km. ,v eiot, but it must have been the blackest hour of tho night when I awakened as if from a touch or at a call. I was lying on my pillow, with the clothes at their normal height, and my first thought was how idiotic I had been to get so shaken, how comfortable I really was. But in an instant that cud dling sensation disappeared, for out from the inwrapping silence and obscurity came a cry, intense, fateful, awesome, as weird, as horrid, at that shriek which had so terrified Jane Eyre. Once more that fear seized and overcame me. I could think of naught except that I was alone in the dark with my poor timor ous self. Once more I plunged under the bedclothing, and there I remained, though again and anon through the folds that ."hilling ciy penetrated. But acute agony, especially of the mind, has its reaction. Soon I lay in a stupor, half awake, half asleep, until the morning light, like a mother's hand, stroked my brow and bade me slumber. It was late when I arose. I was but half dressed when there came repeated raps on my door, and the housekeeper's voice crying: "Oh, Master Harry! Oh, Mr. Grandon! Open, open, open!" 1 flung my door open, ::iid the old woman fell into my arms. "My mis tress," she gasped, "murdered—dead in her bed! Come, oh, come!" I went, but why need I dwell on hor rible details? Poor Mrs. Mainwaring was dead indeed, with marks of a fierce grasp on her throat, as if some diabolic al force had muttered, "Shut up, d—n you!" Aye, that was it, "Shut up!" That appealing ciy of extremity which I had heard and had not heeded. The cabinets were rifled of their wretched treasures, and the room was in the con fusion of rapine. I pass over the grief, pitiable and vindictive, of dan--'iter and husband and conclude these memories with an interview I had tho following day. Mr. Mainwaring, more arrogant in his bereavement than in good i'ortune, becauso also indignant and amazed, had questioned the different members of his household without obtaining any information. No suspicious person had been seen about the premises; no un wonted sound had been heard that night. Finally, when be and Eunice and I were alone, he turned to me: "But, Henry," he said, "your room is directly underneath. It is strange that such a struggle could have occurred without disturbing you. Did you hear nothing?'' "I did hear something, sir," I an swered, with the courage of despair. "I heard a most awful cry" "And—and >• "That is all. I was frightened and hid under the bedclothing until morn ing"— "You miserable coward!" I turned slowly away, and as I turned I saw that confiding expres sion in Eunice's eyes which has followed me ever since with the vitality of a blessing. I turned away and marched out of the house, out into a wild world, not wilder, though, than the tumult of my poor heart. It was necessary for me to suffer, to sacrifice, before I dared from the mes sage of that glance to interpret hope. I have done so, and now, as I finished tho revelations of the past, unwillingly gleamed from the dying coals, I felt that the morrow might perhaps bring me not a reward, but most exquisite relief. But yet was there not something still un done? I had atoned truly. but had I ex piated? Was there not a shadow Detween Eunice and me—the shadow" cast by murder unavenged? Well, what now could avail further worry? My cigar was out, and so was the fire. It was cold. Tho morrow would decide, and the quickest way to its decision was through sleep. I hastened into bed, and my last con nected thought was that the stranger overhead must be more perturbed in mind than even was I. I slept, and 1 awakened as if at a touch or from a call. I know not what time it was, but it seemed the blackest horn' of tho night. I listened—plod, plod, that stranger overhead was still pacing the floor. I listened, and—oh, God in heaven! —I heard once more that intense, fateful cry. It was in the very room; it was in my very ears; it summoned to do, to act, as it should direct. I sprang out of bed and into my clothes, and the quicker my movements the more urgent was that calL Like a clarion note it sounded the ad vance, unhesitatingly, and I obeyed. It led me to the bookshelves and hovered over that coil of line which I had noticed until I thrust it into my pocket. It led me through the pitchy corridor, and by the winding stairs, and along theAext floor until I came to ado r v the jar, through which a lamp's light was glim mering. I listened, and distinct from those constant cries I heard the plod, plod of a restless tread. I looked in, and on the center table my eyes caught and were held by a shining object. It was a watch, one of these trumpery curios which Mrs. Mainwaring had so cherish ed. There could be no doubt about it. Many a time had I seen her polishing it, many a time had I heard her explain the impossible significance in cipher. And as I gazed a burly form intercepted my view, and I saw the restless stran ger, a stalwart, determined looking man, with traces of desperate enterprises on his face. I saw, and I knew the mean ing of that cry, now encouraging and ex ultant, and in an instant I was at his throat. Oh, but he had strength and courage, this man! I was nerved by powers sure ly superhuman. Ho was taken un awares; yet, strive all I could, I could not overmaster him. Indeed his clutch was tightening. He was slowly bending me back. In his eyes shone the desire for blood. In my heart was a curse on the impotent sound that had betrayed me, w*hen suddenly the pallor of death crept over his face. He loosened his hold and beat his head with his fists. He swayed, he staggered, he fell like a struck bullock, and ere his conscious ness returned I had him bound hand and foot and wound and trussed with that tough fishing line! As I completed my task and panting stood over him he opened his eyes. "Shut up, d —n you I" he muttered, and then, following me, ho gasped: "Did you hear it? Oh, did you hear it, that old harridan's shriek?" "Yes," I replied, "I did hear it, and for the last time, thank God! But you, mark my words, you will hear it again!" The morning w T as smiling as peace fully as had that evening of 10 years ago and with far more tenderness when I approached the cozy, comfortable home of the Mainwarings. The very air was permeated with happiness, and my spirit was tranquil, for it anticipated, it foresaw. And there was Eunice in tho doorway waiting to greet me, with that same beseeching, confiding glance in her dear eyes, none the less express ive, none the less beautiful, for the tears through which it shone. She needed not the story of my capture to surrender the love which she had cher ished as a hostage of my return. And yet it was better that I had it to tell to her, for it routed the arrogance of her father and banished forever the shadow which would have crept between us. I sat among the witnesses in the court room when the jury returned a verdict of "Guilty" against the murderer of Mrs. Mainwaring. He stood up in the dock and answered the questions of the clerk with becoming graviiy. But while the judge was pronouncing the awful ultimate sentence of tho law he turned toward me and nodded his head and smiled. Others still speak of this con duct as proof of the depravity of the man, but I well kuew that in that cul mination of his fate he again heard that midniaht en:.—New York Times. A Famous Whist Hand. The most notorious hand of whist ever played is that known as "the Duke of Cumberland's hand. " It has never been definitely settled how this hand came to be dealt, but such a peculiar combina tion naturally suggests suspicions of foul play. The duke, playing in the room at Bath, held in his hands king, knave, nine, seven of trumps (clubs), ace, king of diamonds, ace, king, queen, knave of hearts, and ace, king, queen of spadea and yet was unable to secure a single trick, and, moreover, lost a bet of £20,000 upon the hand. This incredible result was achieved as follows: The duka of course led with a trnmp and found his partner void in that suit. His left hand adversary, whom we may call "V," having ace, queen, ten, eight and his right hand adversary, "Z," the re maining five trumps and no diamonds, the consequence was that "Z" trumped diamonds twice, and "V" "sitting over" the duke with better trumps, after tak ing the sixth trick, had the lead with the seven remaining diamonds, and thus "V" and "Z" made the 13 tricks.—New York Mail and Express. A Sensitive Man. Writer—The editor of The Laughers' Own is the most sensitive man I ever saw. Friend—ln what respect? Writer—He can't take a joke. Friend—l never observed it. Writer—Well, I have. I took a dozen good ones to him today, and he rejected every one of them. —Detroit Free Press. Rather a Lucky Omen. "Are you superstitious?" he asked of the man who likes money. "Not that I know of." ' 'But haven't you your little aversions —for instance, don't you feel like avoid ing the figure 13?" "Sometimes, but not if it has a dol lar mark in front of it.'' —Washington Star A rhoiogruphie Hint. Mi. W'uestner, the well known maker of photographic plates, recently stated that bathing an ordinary plate for tw< minutes in a bath composed of watei nine parts and ammonia one part will double the sensitiveness of the plate Plates thus treated will keep for a short time only. Plates of medium rapidity, he said, will keep for five or six years, while fast plates will retain their prop erties some three or four months only. There is no difference in the keeping qualities of the ordinary plr.tes and the I orthochromatic plates made in this I country. —Detroit Free Press. LOVE'S PLfADING. O Love, O Love, content Ihec! Cease from sighs Of which in the old days our lips were fain. What need for sadness now? All that is past. Or dost thou grieve because the hours fly fast? Beloved, shall not kisses r.tay the- i.am And ease the eternal hunger in thine eyes? Smile, Love, or I shall weep. Say one word, sweet. And break the mournful spell ere the tears fall. What need for tears? What burden troubles j theo I From which an hour ago Ihy soul was free? I ask not moro than life can give, for all I Thou canst desire is ready i-.t thy feet. —"Love In Idleness." THE BLACK DEATH. Its Dreadful Visitation to England In the Fourteenth Century. In England during the black death's first and most dreadful visitation in 1348-9 it was noticed that it carried off an enormous number of the laborers in the country villages, the poor and tho workmen in the towns, the monks and nuns and friars—that is, all that por tion of tho population who were ill housed, ill clothed, ill nurtured, or, like those in tho religious houses, lived ha bitunlly npon an insufficient diet, among whom the practice of asceticism in various forms tu'ded to bring about a weakening of their stamina and their vital power. On tho other haijd, tho mortality among the clergy was far in excess of that among any other class, and this can be attributed only to their noble self sacrifice iv the discharge of theii ministerial duties among their parish ioners. Breathing day aud night the pestilential air, working heroically among the people in every stage of the disease, comforting the dying and bury ing the dead in the huge pits that were dug to contain the putrid corpses, the priests dropped by thousands into the same graves in which they had helped to lay their people, aud before the year was out the supply of clergy had begun to fall short very seriously over all the land. At Florence, Boccaccio tells us, "it became necessary to dig trenches, into which the bodies were put by hundreds, laid in rows, as goods packed in a ship. A little earth was cast upon each suc cessive layer until the pits were filled to the top. " At Avignon several, almost as soon as they were seized with the sick ness, "were carried off to the pit and buried. And in this way many were buried alive." At Vienna "the dead were buried in trenches, each of which, according to one chronicle, contained some 6,000 corpses." In London Sir Walter Maiu-y provided a new cemetery, more than 13 acres in extent, "in respect of the danger that might befall in this time of so great a plague and infection. " —Athenaeum. Music as Medicine. At the St. Pancras infirmary there was a female patient suffering from melan cholia, to whom they played a lullaby. After the performance she told a nurse that she liked it very much. On this the superintendent of the infirmary said, "This is the first time she has spoken for a fortnight." Shortly afterward a male patient suffering from delirium tremens was brought into the ward. On hearing the first notes of the music he became quite calm and ritfcotrtlve, though his attendant had been half afraid to bring him on account of outbreaks of violence. Results like these have since been fre quently obtained by the guild, and they are certainly most encouraging. They are all, it will be seen, in the direction of distracting the mind from pain and soothing mental irritation In order to test the hypnotic effect of soft music the guild made the experiment of playing lullabies to a ward of 14 patients, along with Dr. Collins, one of the physicians to the hospital. In spite of distracting noises, unhappily inseparable from the ward of a London hospital, they got the following results: Dr. Collins "found it an effort to keep awake,'' four patients were actually sent to sleep, some "liked it too well to sleep," and others felt "sad, but delighted. " —Chambers' Jour nal. A Clever Dog. Scarcely anything is hy-king in the mental furniture of this psychological dog to make him tho equal of a baby 2 years old, except thinking in words, and who can prove that he is destitute of this faculty, although not possessing articulate speech? One evening while I was giving my plants a drink he came to me several times, asking mo to have the gate opened. Not caring to lay down the hose, I paid little heed to his teas ings, and he determined to compass his purpose in another way. To tho front door ho went, and pressing it found it not latched, but requiring some force to throw it open. Then he backed out tho full width of the veranda, and running threw his weight so violently against the door as to drive it open. Very soon he reappeared with his mistress, to whom he had made his supplication, and she, without knowing of his failure with me, opened the gate and gave the little fellow his coveted freedom. It should be explained in regard to the wit shown in opening a heavy or sticking door that Toots acquired his experience with a fly door closed by the reaction of a spring. He found by experiments that if with his fore paws ho pressed this door open just far enough to emit his body it would spring to and pinch his tail, and that by retreating and running the whole length of a small entry he would impart momentum enough to open the door wide and thus clear his tail, at the same time letting out a de pendent companion. This act, lam in clined to think, is a little smarter than is usual in a 2-year-old child. —Popular Science Monthly. "Cat-ii-corncr.-d." None of our lexicographers ;:ives "oat a-cornered" (sometimes "oat-a-corner ways"). "Cater-coruored" is given M ' 'local English and United States.'' Buf does anybody in this country say eater cornered? Worcester gives "catty-cor nered" in a bashful note in small type. Halliwell derives "eater-cornered" from quatre, through the provincial "cater," to cut diagonally. But why go so far? Might not "catter-cornered" be only a corrupt "quarter cornered" —that is, quartered by lines through the corners instead of in the more usual way, by lines at right angles to the sides? This etymology seems to be confirmed by a curious bit of folk speech in tho upper Hudson country. Our people, in sawing or nailing anything at an angle other than a right angle, do not place it or cut it "quartering," which is the recog nized technical term, but "cattering." I am told that in parts of Vermont ' 'cat tering' ' is used in the sense of bias. For "cattering" there is a ludicrous diminu tive much oftener used in my neighbor hood—namely, "kittering''—that is, somewhat cattering, for is not a kit a little cat?— Century. THE DANCING SPOOKS AN OLD FIDDLER'S STORY OF HIS STRANGE EXPERIENCE. Guests at the G. House Hall Talked Only of Things That Happened Before the War—Dates on the Musician's Notebook and the Tombstones I'orrespoetdcd. "Speaking of superstition," said An drew Brass as he sat iv his easy chair, "reminds me of an experience I had on a wintry night a few years ago. No, I am not superstitious, but my experience of that night has impressed me ever since. Being a violinist, I was accus tomed to play for all the dances that took place in the neighborhood in which I lived. One day I received a note re questing my services at a dance to be held on that night at the G. House, near the site of an old distillery. The note was signed by 'Your Friends.' The Q. House was an old log structure and stood along a lonely lane leading from the high road to the distilleiy and at tho border of a dense forest. It had not been occupied since tiie distillery had been torn down some 17 years before, but as the boys had been accustomed to holding their dances in vacant houses on several occasions I thought no more of it, and when evening came I started for the Q. House. A walk of about an hour brought me in sight of it. I saw tho windows brilliantly lighted. On nearer approach sounds of merriment came from within. The night being cold, a good lire was burning in the old fashioned fireplace. A song had been in progress aud just ended as I entered the door. I threw off my overcoat and hat, which were taken by a young lady whom I did not know. I seated myself near the fire as the set for tho dance were taking their places on the floor. After having warmed I took out my violin, and while tuning looked around, and to my sur prise those present were all strangers to ma This puzzled me very much, and in no way could I account for it, but I did not even venture to ask for an explana tion from any of them. "After a couple of hours' dancing, waltzing, etc., the party was invited to an adjoining room for lunch, myself in cluded. I must confess the viands were the most delicious I ever tasted. Vari ous fruits and wines were served in abundance. The waiters were obliging and attentive. I had a good opportunity to view my companions as they sat down to dine. They were fine looking young men and pretty young women. They seemed to be very kind, but reserved in their attentions to each other. What struck mo as very strange was th: t their general conversation was about vents of the war and battles that were lost and won as though it was in wartime. One would wager that Lee would surrender; another would doubt it, as Sherman was cooped up in the south. Lunch over, we repaired to the dancing room. I felt much refreshed, and when I played for tho next quadrille it seemed that I ren dered better music than ever before. The dancers went through the figures with the precision of machinery. After four or fivo sets had been danced, one young fellow announced that a collection would bo taken up for mo for my services as musician, which is customary, and asked me for my daybook, which I handed him. All of the party signed their names and amounts given, also a date opposite each name, no two dates being the same, but all antedating the time of the dance. This I noticed when the money and book were handed to me, the nioncy being in fractional currency, the same as was in circulation after the war. Of course these circumstances all put together mys tified me greatly, but I said nothing. "I looked at my watch. It was 15 minutes of midnight, and all were pre paring to depart. The fire burned low, the candles in the brass candlesticks be gan to flicker, and as the hands of my watch pointed to 12 the lights, both fire and candles, suddenly went out. I was in total darkness. Not one of that party was ti be seen or heard. I made my way to the door. A heavy snow had fallen. Not a footprint of any footstep could be j seen. I made for the lane with as much j speed as the deep snow would permit, j and in an hour I was home pondering j the events of the night. "I resolved next morning to further investigate the mysteries of tho G. House. After leaving the highroad I found my homeward tracks still show ing in the snow along tho lane to the G. House. I now saw that it was an old i tumbledown rookery occupied by a flock of sheep. Presently I saw Farmer Freed i coming down tho lane with a sack of i feed for his sheep. I explained to him j my night adventure. He only shook his head and smiled, as though my story • deeserved no credence. I produced tho money and my notebook iv evidence, j ' Why,' he said, 'what in the world does this mean? I knew all of these people, i but they have been dead for years. Come with me,' he continued. 'You see that graveyard down there? That's where they are buried. Come on and see for yourself.' I went in, and there on -the tombstones were the names and dates of I death of all those corresponding to the | names and dates on my daybook. I did I not play for any more dances at the G. : House, nor was I asked to do so, nor will I respond again to an invitation signed 'By Friends.'" — Pittsburg Chrouicle-Telegraph. Tlie Earth's Temperature. One of the most learned of modern geologists, Sir William Thomson, has expressed the opinion that for the last 06,000,000 years the rate of increase oi the earth's temperature under ground has gradually diminished from about one-tenth to about one-fiftieth of a de greo F. per foot. The present argument, however, as to the date of the consolida tion of the earth, based on the assump- j tion that the earth is simply a cooling globe, is met with serious objections, one of the most forcible being that as the solidification of the earth probably began from the middle and spread ta tho surface it is not only possible bul likely that after a firm crust had been formed the upper portion still retained some degree of viscosity. If, then, the interior bo viscous, some tidal oscilla tions must take place in it, and these being subject to friction heat must be generated in the viscous portion, and tho diurnal rotation of the earth anal be retarded. According to the supposi tion of an eminent scientist—viz, that it is only those strata which are within somo hundreds of miles of the surface which are viscous, while tho central portion is rigid—then, when tidal friction does its work, the same amount of heat is generated as on tho hypothesis of the viscosity of the entire planet, but instead of being distributed throughout the whole mass, and princi- E" -toward-the middle, it is now to be I in the. more superficial layers. — Ysttk-filUk « RATES OF APV^imSINCr"^ Advertisements are inserted at the rate of IJJ( cents per line, for the tirst, ami 0 ' cents for each subsequent Insertion. Local Notices are inserted at the rate of cents per line for the first, aud IU cents for each subsequent insertion. Business Notices are inserted at the rate of 15 cents for the first aud 8 cenls for each sub sequent insertion' A liberal discount will be made on all orrtert for .1. B, or "J" months. Obituaries. Announcements of Candidate! for office, and all communications of a person al or private character, will be charged for v advertisements. NO. 35. FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD. The change is fraught i.ith .auigers. If Uiei-e bo pain, headache and nervous disturb ances, or the general health poor, the. judic ious uso of ro&iieiue should be employed. Dr. Pierces Favorite Proscription is tho beet tonic and nervine at this time. It bring! c about • regularity in the womanly functions, cures female weakness, catarrhal inflammation, and uterine derange ments. Seavieu; Northampton 1 County, Va. f Dr.R. V. Pierce: Dear Sir— After taking: your medicine I feci like a now person. I ehall rec ommend you and your medicine whe.-ever I go. Your medicine has work ed wonders for me aud I can not praise It too much. All of my old symptoms have disappeared. Yours r?spocriully, Mas. WILLIETTA DOUGHTY. OK MOINIEY REFUNDEft aprii 18-lyr WANTED. Honest, temp. rate, energetic men, to solicit orders (OT l-r.iil und <>. mini, i.teil Nur-.rv si.xk. I'eiiiiiintut i n.plcjnitiit m.d good wages :alsolilleraltndocen entstolccul agents. Varieties lspecially adrpHd lo the .-outh Stock warranted tiue to name. Sal Muctlon guaranteed. Write at once for terms and ter ritory. Address It. G. CHASE * to.. MSO Soiilli I'eiin Square, Philadelphia Jan -'4-:imos EeW.3 "3..%Jf JT I outpain.Bootofpar fj-A i. 'ii*-* Bsisra fl ticulßrssent FREE. s» d -•iT-!."*'nCiZ3EaS»B.M.W<X)LLEY,M.D. SJ ■ At' .-.::, Ua. OiEceliM^VYhitthaUSt. aug 10-ly CHURCH DIRECTORY. First Presbyterian Church, on Frederick St between New and Market streets, services II a. m. and Bp. m. Pastor, Hey. A. M. Fraser Second Presbyterian church corner Freder ick and Lewis streets. Services at 11 a. m and 8. Pastor. Rev. Wm. Cumming. Emmanuel Episcopal Church, worship at Y. M. C. A. Hall. Services at 11 a. m., and sp. m. Hector, Rev. R. C. Jett. Trinity Episcopal church. Main street, be tween Lewis aud Church streets. Services at 11 a. m., and Bp. m. Hector, Rev. W. Q. Hul lihen United Brethren church, Lewis street, be tween Main and Johnson streets. Services at 11 a. m and Bp. m. Pastor, Rev. J. D. Don ovan. Methodist church, Lewis street, between Main and Frederick streets. Services at 11 m. and Bp. m. Pastor, Rev. J. 11. Boyd, D. D. Christ Evangelical Lutheran church. Lew is street, between Main aud Frederick streets Services at 11 a. m. and 8 p. m. Pastor. Rev. H. F. Shealy. Baptist church, cornel Main and Washing ton streets. Services at 11 a. m. and 8 p. m Pastor, Rev. W. J E. Cox. St. Francis Roman Catholic, North Augusts, street. Mass at 7 and 10.30 a. m. Vespers and benediction of Most Blessed Sacrament at p. m. Pastor, Key. Father McVerry. Young Men's Christian Association, corner Main and Water streets. Services at 4 p. m. Sunda . **l m*. ■ w I OK T UP LUUC to. MASONIC LODGE. Staunton Lodge No. 13, A. F. and A. IL, meet* ever}- second and last Friday night In each month. In Masonic Temple, Main street. Jas M. Lickliter.w. M; B. A. Eskridge, Secy. UNION HOYAL ARCH CHAPTER. No. 2, meets third Friday In every month. In Masonic Temple, on Main street. W. W. Mc- Guffln. High Priest; A. A. Eskridge, Sesc'y. ODD FELLOWS' LODGE. Staunton Lodge, No. <t5,1. O. O. F. meets cv cry Tlrarsday night in Odd Fellows' Hall, ovel Wayt's drug store, on Main street. John 0 Fretwell Noble Grand: CA. Crafton, Sec' . KNIGHTS OF HONOF ODGE. Staunton Lodf,c. No. T. 56. Kr.jrhts of Honor meets every first third Tuesday in each month, In Pythian Hall, Main street. W. L. 311vier, Dictator; W. A. Burnett, Recorder. MOT'NTAIN CITY LODGE. No. 11H, I. O. G. T., meets ■ cry Friday uight In their lodge room over Wayt's drug store ,on Main streset. A. S. Woodhouse, Chief Templar P. B. Kennedy, Secy. DISTRICT LODGE. No. 2J, I. O. G. T.. meets every three months G. C. Shipplett, D. C. T.; S. H. Bauserman District Secretary. ROYAL ARCANUM. Augusta Council, No. 480, Royal Arcanum meets every second and fourth Tuesday in the month, at Pythian Hall, Main street. W. W. Kobertson, Regent: Jos. B.Woodward, Sec- SONS OF TEMPERANCE Charity Division, M. A., Sons of Temperance ueets every Monday night at Odd Fellows all. W. A. Kapp, Worthy Patriarch; John B. Coffelt, Secy. UNIFORMED RANK, KNiGHTS OF PYTHIAS. E. B. Stuart Division, No. 10, meets second md fourth Mondays each month at Pythian Hail. Sir Knight Captain, F. B. Berkley; SI Knight Recorder, S. H. Rosenbaum. KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. Valley Lodge, No. 18, K. of P., meets eve Monday night at Castle Hall, on Weest Main I over Dr. Wayt's drug store. C. T. Ham- Chancellor Commander; Albes* Quit •of Records and Seal. KNIGHT TEMPLARS, iton Commandery, No. 8, Knights Tem leets first Friday night in every month ionic Temple, on Main street. W. B. sney. Eminent Commander; A. A. Est iecorder. .VEIDA TRIBE, NO. 88,1. O. R. M., i in their wigwam, over Wayt's drufj every Wednesday at 7th run 30th breath of the sun. S. E. Lushbaugh, sachem w. Blackburn, chief of records. Al ; brothers welcome. AMERICAN LEGION OF HONOR. Valley Council No. 736 meets on the first an l. ;hlrd Mondays in each month. Commander. A. S. Woodhouse; secretary, Dr. J. M. Hanger collector, Isaac C. Morton, Jr. CATHOLIC HIBERNIAN BENIFICAL SOCIETY. | Meets first Sunday in every month in tbeii hall on the church lot. M. T. Bergin, presi dent; J. J. Kilgalen, first vicea-president; J. J Murphy, second vicee-president; D.J. O'ConneU recording secretary. "STONEWALL" BRIGADE BAND. Band meets every Monday and Thursday orchestra, every Wednesday, at 8 p. m., in City lleili. Professor Thomas Prosho, director .1. A. Armentrout, president, and C. Harry Haines, secretary- CENTRAL PROHIBITION CLUB. ■fee on Thursday night of each week, in 11 i room, 119 East Main street. Jas. W. Bod >v. Acting President; Preston A. Ross, Secre- CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. Monthly meetings, Fourth Tuesday in eac n month at 7:30 o'clock. Room in City Hail build-