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itttttttton fyectafot, Editor and TERMS, $2.OOA:YEAR. tWßemittances should be made by check draft, postal order, or registered letter. FKOFEe P IOSAL QARTER BHAXTON iiNEY AT LAW) No. 23 S. Augusta St. Special attention given to collections. CS. W. BARNES, ATTOUNEY-AT-LAW, NoJ4 West Main Street, sept27-tf STAUNTON, VA. W. va * STAUNTON, VA. No. 2, Court House Square, aug 9-tf HUGHG. EICHELBERGER. ._,._. ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. STAUN TON, VA. eP"Prompt attention to collections. ALEX. F. ROBERTSON, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW STAUNTON, VA. Office No. * Lawyers' Row, in rear of Court house. DR. D. A. BUCHEK DENTIST. Otfice in Crowle Building, Room S3, 3rd floor Office hours from 9 A, M. to 6 P. M. may 27 R. S. Tukk. Henry W. Holt. TURK & HOLT, ATTORNEYS-AT- LAW. No. 8 Lawyers' Row. Staunton. \ a. Law Offices _ •■ „ ALEXANDER & TAYLoIi. Lawyers, No 6 Lawyers' Row, oct 17-tf TM. .; ATTORNEP-AT-LAM. STAUNTON, VA. feb 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. &f~ Collections will receive prompt atten MM. sep 25-tf R. H. M. PATTERSON, STAUNTON, VA. Offers his professional services to the citi zens of Staunton. Office No. 121, East Mtain Street. JH. CROSIER, . _ . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Office on Courthouse square, STAUNTON, VA. Prompt attention given to all legal business sntrusted to him, in State or Federal Courts. Will devote entire time to his profession, lune 1-tf Tt E. R. NELSON, Attorney-at-Law and Commissioner in Chancery. OFFICE No. 10 LAWYERS' BOW, jan 4-tf STAUNTON, VA. A C. BRAXTON ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR. OFFICE.—CrowIe 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 ] ithis time, give my undivided time and axclu sive 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 I may possess. Lan 18-tf WE Are still at the barber business at the old stand, West Main street, and are pre pared to give you a clean and com fortable. SHAVE A fashionable hair-cut or a luxurious shampoo in the best style of the art. FOR The hair use Nothnagel's Trichocomia. There's NOTHING Better to restore the hair, invigorate the growth or prevent falling out. As a cure for dandruff and scurf it has no equal. iay~Reniember Nothnagel uses a ■ CLEANTOW'ELEVERYSHAVE You will save time by shaving NOTHNAGEL'S. Five competent artists always on hand, aug 22-limos I7UIR KENT.—Two comfortably furnished ' rooms in a desirable part of the city. Refer to Spectator Office. may 23 tf • nttßiiD May be a pleasing pastime, but we take more pleasu In Looking orward To the time when the Retail Grocers Of the City and surrounding country will have become convinced that the best place to buy TEA, COFFEES, SYRUPS, MOLASSES, TOBACCOS,CICARS, HIGH GRADE FLOURS and in fact everything in the staple and fan cy Grocery line is at Bowling, SpMCo's Su> American Hotel Building, atC. &0 Epor. What is Cast or ia 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, Diarrhoea, Eructation, known to me." H. A. Archer, M. I>., Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes di -111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. gestion, Without injurious medication. 11 The use of 'Castoria' is so universal and - its merits so well known that it seems a work .. For myen x years I have 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 boneflciai within easy reach." results." Carlos Martyn, D. D., Edwin F. Pardee, M. D., New York City. 126 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City. The Centaur Company, 77 Murray Street, New York City Stattittoti VOL. 72. flours lor Arrival aM Closing of Malls at Staui ton Pastoffice. i ARRIVE. BY C AND O. RAILROAD. 5 a. m, from north, south, east and west. ». is a. m. from west. 2.30 p. m. from Clifton Forge and intermediate points, ll.Siia. in. from Richmond and intermediate point?. I 6.45 p. m. from north, east and south. i BY B. AND O. 7.04 a. m. from Lexington and intermediate points. 1.40 p. ni. from the north. I 6.45 p. in. from the north. Harper's Ferry and intermediate points. i STAR ROUTES. 7 a. ni. from Plunkettsville, daily except Sun day. I 10 a. m. from Mt. Meridian, daily except Sun day. „ j sp. m. from Middlebrook, daily except Sun day, i 5.30 p. m. from Monterey, daily except Sunday. ' CLOSE. FOR B. AND O. 6.30 a. m. tor Lexington, Harper's Ferry and ! points north. 11.28 a. m. for Harrisonburg, Woodstock and; points north. 1.10 p. m. for Lexington. 4.00 p. m. for Fort Defiance. 6.00 p. m. for Lexington and intermediate points. for c. and o. 8.45 a. m. and 2 p. m. for north, east, south. 0.00 p. m. for east, north, south and went. . 11.25 a. m. for Clifton Forge and Intermediate] points. 6.00 p. m. for tha west. STAR ROUTES—I)AiLY KXCKPT SUNDAY. 5.30 a. m. for Monterey. 6.00 a. m. for Middlebrook 1.00 p. m. for Mt. Meridian. 6.15 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. ni., closes 6 p. m W. T. MeCUE. P. M. HUMPHREYS' Dr. Humphreys' Specimen are scientifically and carefully prepared Remedies, used for yean In private practice and for over thirty years by the people with entire success. Every single Speclno a special cure for the disease named. They cure without drugging, purging or reducing the system and are In fact and deed the Sovereign Remedies or the World. W O, GDKBI. FIICM. I—Fevers, Congestions, Inflammations.. .39 3—Worms, Worm Fever, Worm C01ic.... .35 ' 3—Teething; Colic, Crying, Wakefulness .39 I 4—Diarrhea, of Children or Adults .39 7—Coughs, Colds, Bronchitis .39 B—Neuralgia, Toothache, Faceache. 39 9— Headaches, Sick Headache, Vertigo.. .39 10—Dyspepsia. Biliousness. Constipation. .39 11—Suppressed or Painful Periods... .39 13—Whites. Too Profuse Periods .39 13-Croup, Laryngitis, Hoarseness .39 14—Salt Rheum, Erysipelas, Eruptions.. .39 19—Rheumatism, Rheumatic Pains .39 16—Malaria, Chills, Fever and Ague .33 19-Catarrh, Influenza, Cold in the Bead. .39 •.JO-Whooping Cough .39 37—Kidney Diseases >39 as-Nervous Debility 1.00 30-Crinary Weakness 35 34—Sore Throat, Quincy, Ulcerated Throat .39 HUMPHREYS' WITCH HAZEL Oil., "The Pile Ointment."-Trial Size, 25 C'ts. Sold by Druggists, or lent prepaid on receipt of price. PR. HUMFHRKTB' ftUXVAL (144 page,,) MAILKU 1 KICK. UTHFIIBKYB' MED. CO., 11l * 111 Willi •» St., HzW YOU. SPECIFICS.} July 4-lyr - ■ | STAUNTON BUSINESS COLLEGE, STAUNTON,VA. Incorporated. Over 75 per cent, home pa ; tronge. Open all the year to both sexes. For terms. &c, address HUMPHREYS & HINEH, June 27 Box 78. REMOVAL OF THE LADIES AND GENTLEMENS' 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 bo better prepared to accommodate them. They will tafee regular boarders, to a number of whom they can furnish lodging or rent rooms as well as board at cheap rates. Remember the place—Hurley Building, second story, corner Main and Lewis Streets. MARGARET & LUCY CAUTKORN. feb 3rd Buy the "Braddock" Pure Rye. It is the best ! and costs no more than inferior goods. JAS. CLARK & C 0.,! JNO. McQUAIDE, Manager. NOS. 80 AND' 33 SOUTH SEW STREET, j STAUNTON, VA., Distillers and Sole J'roprietors and Liquor j Dealers. Read what eminent Physicians say :— STAUNTON. VA., July 27th, 1894. Capt. Jno. McQuaidc, Staunton, Va: Dear ib ;—ln reply to yours of this date I wish to say that I have prescribed your "Brad dock Pure Rye Whiskey," and find it a pure, reliable whiskey, and an article that is well > borne by delicate stomachs. I will take pleasure In recommending it to those of my patients who need whiskey as a medicine. Yours truly, H. H. Henkel, Staunton, Va., April 14th, 1894. Capt. Jno. McQuaide, Manager, Staunton, Va: DEAtt Sir :—I have tested the "Rye Whiskey' manufactured by James Clark & Co., and find It an excellent article. When necessary for medicinal purposes would highly recommend it. Respectfully. B. P. REESE, M. D. Staunton, Va., March 28th, 1894. Capt. Jno. ifcQuaidc : Dear Sir:—Please accept my thanks for the sample of Braddock Whiskey which I have thoroughly tested as to its medicinal prop erties in my practice, and find it theraputieal ly meets in every way the demands of the pro • fession where a stimulant is required. Very sincerely, J. B. Catlett, sept 12-tf City Physician. 1 MOTHER'S BOYS. Yea, I know there are stains on my carps*, The traces of small muddy boots, And I sec your fair tapestry glowing, All spotless with blossoms and fruits. And I know that my walls are disfigured With prints of small fingers and hands, And that your own household most truly In immaculate purity stands. And I know that my parlor's littered With many old treasures and toys, While your own is in daintiest order, Unharmed by the presence of boys. And I know that my room is invaded Quito boldly all hours of the day, Whilo you flit in yOura unmolested And dream the soft quiet away. Yes, I know there are four little bedside* Where I must stand watchful each night. While you can go out in your carriage And shine in your dresses so bright. Now, I think I'm a neat little woman. I like my house orderly, too, And I'm fend of ill ilfcinty b» longings. Yet would not cliange places with you. No; keep your fair home with its order. Its freedom from bother and noise, And keep your own fanciful leisure, But leave me my four noble boys! —Silver Croat. ANDY COPLEY'S LIE. Of the old folk of the bleak little sea port, Andrew Copley dwells most vivid ly in my memory. As prosperity is gauged at Port St. Bede, Andrew, the owner of some half do.ieu fully equipped fishing smacks, was accounted a pros perous man. I recall him now—his kindly face, tanned and netted in wrin kles; his long hair, grilled this many * day; his stubby gray beard; his light blue eyes, bespectacled for reading—yes, there he sits. Many are the "cracks" I have had with him. Yet there was one story he chose to leave buried in silence —and that his own. I never dared broach the topic, albeit I inwardly burned with impatient curiosity. One day, however, the history became mine unsolicited. Some remark I chanced to let slip anent his lifelong bachelorhood caused an infrequent faraway look to settle upon his eyes. We were walking up the steep, cobble paved "street" at the time, past the lime washed front of the Trawlers' inn to the higher ground, from which the old Norman church tower kept ward over the slumberous village. "Why ha'e I never married, say ye?" the old man exclaimed after a long spell of silence. "Like enow, yell hear afore long, an I don't see what should stop me fro' tellin ye myseu, if so be." Hurriedly stepping into the roadway, Andrew whipped off his broad brimmed hat and stood motionless. Turnii-g into the sanded lane that zigzagged past the church, we had well nigh jostled two slow paced women, the youngtsr of them about 50 years of age, the elder 20 years or so older. It was the latter that at tracted my marked regard, for it was toward her that Andrew held his down bent head. A wan, frail looking crea ture she was, dressed in Mack, with a close fitting, old fashioned bonnet tied under her chin in a bow of broad black ribbon. Her hair, smoothed evenly upon her forehead, shimmered silverly as the new churned foam in the bay. She moved haltingly, even with the aid of an oaken staff and the helping arm of her companion. Withdrawing her arm, she paused in the pathway and pointed' her stick to ward the bareheaded old fisherman. In thin, quavering tones, as if the words were said by rote, there being no ve hemence in her utterance, she cried: "Ah, I knaw ye—l knaw ye. Ban ye, for no speakiu me fair." With no more passion than if showero repeating some soulless formula, she added: "Curse ye, Andrew Copley! It was a lie! Curse ye fort!" "Come awa'!" the other woman put incoaxingly. "Come thee awa'home, then." Unresisting, the old lady allowed her self to be led away. Through it all An drew did not stir a limb, butstood there with doffed hat, his head bowed and his mane of gray hair rufiliug in tho breeze. We had left the church behind, the deep rutted lane, the narrow stone style' that gave upon the fields. We had trav ersed half the length of the meadows themselves before he spoke. "Ye asked me how 'twas I never mar tied," said he slowly. "That is the reason." So he began upon his life story. But as his narrative would be hard to follow if I adhered to his exact words, with his numerous digressions and irrelevanoies, uttered with quaint bur of tongue, and, moreover, as his modesty saw fit to gloss over certain facts which I heard of later in other quarters, I venture to set it forth after my own fashion. We hark back a full half century. Port St. Bede—no vast size at this pres ent—was then a mere nest of sandstone, shale roofed cottages, planted at the foot of the hill and straggling disjoint edly up to it from the "street." Later improvements have displaced or rebuilt most of these one storied dwellings and filled in the gaps, but the old Trawlers' inn-looks just as it looked 50 years ago. It lies back some ten paces from the roadway, the shingled space thus ob tained being highly favored of loungers and gossips. The spot served an identi cal purpose so far back as the oldest memory goes. A little knot of fisher men and wom en foregathered there one Wednesday morning to await the arrival of the Mo perland letter carrier. Twice a week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays, he trudged the ten miles to deliver his meager package of letters. He always made his •way first to the Trawlers', whero it had become customary for the populace— those who did not expect letters alike with those who did—to assemble and waylay him. In that manner the canny souls got news from the outside world without being put to the expense of a postal fee, while the official on his part was quit of his letters all the sooner. Qn this particular morning, however, the gayety of the group was nnder eolipse. They talked together in hushed tones, full of concern, every now and then preferring a question to the bronzed, middle aged seaman in their midst. "An ye're sure ye've got the reights O* 't, Jake?" queried a big faced wom an, whose skimpy petticoat showed her ample brogues and shapeless ankles. "It'll kill t'lass if she hears o' 't." ."Oh, I'm noau mista'en —not me," answered the seaman positively. ''I seed him mysen i' Grimsby not three days back, an I 'card it read out i' church— the second time o' axiu it were—last Sunday." "Poor maid, poor maid! An her wait in for him here as patient an lovin as onybody could wish. Ah, them men, them men!" While the frowsy old crone was shak ing her gray locks over the perfidy of .mankind she stole a sidelong look to ward the window bench, against whioh Andrew Copley—then a well set up young fellow of four and twenty—was STAUNTON, VA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1894. moodily leaning. ! "Aye, but he takes on badly wit," , she said, jerking her head in Andrew's direction. "I'm main sorry for him too. j He al'ays were sweet on her, ye knaw, an I do believe she'd 'a' had him if that man fro' Grimsby hadn' come this way wi' his port, weel favored face." Further tattle was cut short by the appearance of the letter bag. In all there must havo beon close on a dozen letter" —a goodly batch for Poft St. Bede. It was one of the last which the postman held aslant to catch the light. "Misi Kellctt!" ho called out wheezily. "Why, thatmunbe Hilda," exclaim ed one of tho bystanders. "She isn't here. Yo'il ha'o to take it up to the houae." "I'll sa\«y» the wak," said Andrew, stopping forward. "I'm bound that way, an I'll soe she gets it." "Don't tell her o' the goings on o' that Grimsby chap," cried the fishwife before mentioned. "It'll drive her clean daft. Conscience sake, Andrey, don't tell her that." During the period we are dealing with education at Port St. Bede was at a woefully low ebb. Not 20 people in the whole thorp could write their names or recognize them when penned. Few could road anything but' 'print.'' Fewer still were able to puzzle out written characters. Among this community An drew Copley was reckoned a "fine scholard,'' and by virtue of this reputa tion his services were in frequent de mand by those who, having passing need of the "l'arning," chanced to be in the bad books of the rector or the Wes leyan minister. With the "gammer's" injunction echoing in his ears, Andrew stole quick ly toward the cottage occupied by Hilda Kellett and her widowed mother. " 'Miss Kellett, Port St. Bede,'" said he, furtively scanning the superscrip tion. "It's fro' that scamp, as I live. An now, belike, she'll ha'e me to read it to her." Slackening his pace, he add ed grimly; "Shall I tell't to her—shall I? It'll kill her, say they, an they're right—it will." He stuffed the letter into his jacket pocket long before he came abreast of the cottage. Bapping a tattoo on this door, he lifted the latch, and—as was the custom—walked straight in. A slim, fair haired girl peeped into the room from a side door. "Oh, it's you, Andrew," she said, coming forward. "Aye, lt'snie. I cam' just to ask how your mother is today." "She's a piece better this morn, but she rested ill last night. Nellie an me sat np wi' her.most all night, but she's dropped off asleep now. Tak' a ohair, Andrew." Andrew perched himself on the edge of the nearest rnsh bottomed chair and fumbled hesitatingly with his cap be tween his knees. "I was doon by the Trawlers' when the letters came," he said after a strained interval. "There was one for ye, Hilda, an I made free to say I'd bring it. Here 'tis." "For me!" and Hilda's eyo3 bright ened as she stretohed out her hand. "Then it's fro' Ben, isn't it, Andrew?" "It's the Grimsby mark," replied Andrew shortly. "Then it must be fro' Ben. He said he'd let me know as soon as the brig got back to Grimsby. An how I trem bled for him all through that storm o' Monday! But he's safe—this shows he's safe, Andrew." A plaintive look of alarm crept into her blue eyes as An drew, never answering, kept his gaze clamped to the floor. "This shows he's safe!" she repeated quaveringly. "P'raps that letter may contradict it all, but there was a deal o' nasty talk about tho Vampire—as how she's gone doon i' the"— "Bead it tome," cried Hilda, thrust ing the missivo into his hands. "Ye knowlcan't my sen. Bead it, Andrew.'' Taking firm grip of his lips, Andrew opened the letter and glanced at the signature. "It's norm fro' him," he said. "It's wrete by Peter Worsley, the skipper o' the Vampire." "Not fro' Bah!" exclaimed Hilda tremulously. "He isn't—dead?" Andrew nodded. "Drowned!" he murmured huskily. Clutching at her throat, Hilda sank into a chair and hid her face in her palms. Presently she looked up, her lips pallid, her eyelids scarlet. "I can bear it now, Andrew," she said. "Bead it all tome." The caligraphy of the Vampire's mas ter must have been all but illegible), judging from the difficulty Andrew had in deciphering it. He read slowly, hum ming and hawing through the whole epistle. Here is the gist of it. In the re cent heavy gales the Vampire—a crazy, undermanned timber ship—had sprung a leak, her orew being eventually com pelled to abandon the foundering vessel and take to the longboat. Their perilous case was little bettered thereby, for twice the boat had been capsized. When she was Tighted the second time, only fonr of the sailors succeeded in scram bling into her. Of the two men missing, the mate, Ben Webb, was one. The sur vivors were picked up on the following day and landed at Grimsby. It was in fulfillment of a pledge made at the out set of their peril and in fateful antici ■ pation of its outcome that Captain Wor sley now broke the sad news to the dead man's sweetheart. Even in the intensity of her grief Hilda had thought of her mother's much needed slumber, and not a cry escaped her lips. Andrew, the big, clumsy, soft hearted gomeral, saw that no sympathy of his could sootho her distress. She must just "fret her dole." And so he left her with her sorrow. "I had to dot," he muttered, strid ing beach ward. "An it's better that nor t'other—it's better." Fervently he added, "God send she doesn't let any body else read it!" j Ho might have been at peace on that ' score. To Hilda the skipper's letter was i as the last words of her drowned lover ; —a sacred thing, not lightly to be fin- I gered or spoken of. She packed it away : with tho sundry ribbons, gloves and ! cheap gewgaws Ben had given her, to j be treasured with them throughout this side of time. They who best know the Port St. Bede folk will least acenso them of! want of heart. Out of sheer mercy for the girl they avoided all allusion to Ben Webb, and on her side Hilda kept \ her woe to herself. The blow was for ! her shoulders alone, and she bore its i smart bravely. Besides she and her mother had to live, and net making and I mending must be attended to, even though the heart may ache, and the eyes blister with unshed tears. So two years went by. Then, her . mother having been laid to her last long rest under the gnarled elms in tho j churchyard, Hilda went to live with f her sister, Abel Moxon, the cooper's I wife. At this juncture, hoping that ( time had salved her wound, Andrew ; Copley made bold to offer her all an | honest man can offer the woman he I loves—his name, his home, his big I steadfast heart. His insight was at fault, tor sho would 'nave none 01 mem. In all simplicity she told him that her love lay dead with him who slept in the deep seas. She chose to sharo the lot of no man to whom she could not give her self heartily, wholly. "I knaw ye like me, Andrew," she said frankly. "I've al'ays knawn it, an I thank you. If ever I come to think i' that other way, an if I see ye're i' the same mind still, I'll speak first. Don't ask me any more, Andrew. I'll speak ' first." | Henceforth, as before, they were friends—close, firm friends—but no fur ther. Season after season Andrew sailed off in his yawl for the whitefishing on the Dogger, returning each time with ; brain aflame for the sight of her. And ! she met him with mere smile and hand- j shake, in her eyes no token of change, : no glimmer of awakening affection. Eight years thus lumbered away—■ eight weary, joyless years—and neither Hilda nor Andrew had sought to break through their pact of silence. About this time Hilda was sorely stricken with typhoid, then rife in the village, and for an anxious space she dwelt on the very border line of here and hereafter. On Andrew's persuasion—he staking his word that-the great man's fees should be forthcoming—Abel called in Dr. Ratcliffe of Morperland, under whose care Hilda slowly began to mend. It was while Andrew was away at the banks—the doctor's comforting assur ances for company—that the truth strip ped itself before Hilda, to torture and afflict her with its mocking ghastliness. As yet she was not able to leave her bed, bat lay there with pinched face, her hair tangled on the pillows, her thin blue fingers twitching idly at the garish patchwork quilt, her eyes wandering to the half open lattice through which was borne the distant sough of the waves and whence she could see their sun flecked crests far out beyond the Fork rocks. Then she would turn to answer some question put her by her little niece, Mary—Abel's eldest daughter, "rising 10"—who had crept into the sickroom. Presently the little maid fell to bab bling, childlike, of the doings and say ings of her school friends. "Aye, but ye'ill be gettiu a fine scholard, Mary," said Hilda. "It was a quid thing for the weans when t' parson opened school. I wish it had been done long sin." "It was our 'xamination today," re plied Mary, eager with fresh news. "Mr. Harvey heard me read an patted me o' the head. Out of a newspaper hard v ords they was too." "An maybe we can read writin, Mary?" "Oh, yes," said she, nowise disposed to belittle her attainments. "When you get any letters, Aunt Hilda, I'll read them all through to you—every word. I'm sure I could.'' "Well, I'm going to try ye," said Hilda smilingly. "Now, open that drawer. No, the second one, an" bring the little black box to me. Yes, that is it." Tenderly picking out the finery with which the box was filled, Hilda placed the various articles by her side on the bed. Underneath, untouched since that day, lay the very letter which had told her its sad tale through Andrew's mouth. "Now, what name's that?" said she, pointing to the signature. Mary screwed her eyes into beads, hung her head sapiently on one side and spelled the words under her breath. "B-e-n, Ben; W-e-b-b, Webb," she announced at last, with a ring of tri umph. "It's am bad writin, but"— "No, nol" cried Hilda, rising excit edly upon her elbow. "Not Ben—Ben Webb. Are you sure, Mary?" "B-e-n, Ben; W-e-b-b, Webb," re peated her niece. Hilda sent up a choking cry. "He said it came fro' Captain Worsley," she ejaculated gaspingly. "He lied to me. It's fro' Ben. Ben isn't dead!" Her whole frame a-tremble, she turned to Mary with: "Begin at the first. Bead it all to me. Can ye, can ye?" Mary at all events was willing to try, and although she blundered often and painfully under the task between them they managed to piece -the words into sense. "Dear Hilda," it ran, "I didn't mean to say a word, but I can't do it without telling you first. Don't hate me, for I did love you and do, more nor her. Any ways you can't say I didn't tell you all about Polly Barclay—how we was to be married and how it was broke off. Well, mo and her have made it up again. Her uncle's dead and left her everything—his three houses and £400 in the bank. You see, I didn't have a free hand, so you "can't blame me. Be sides there's Andy Copley only too glad to have you, and the banns has been read twice in Grimsby church. I think things are best left alone, and no fuss made, especial as I don't ask the presents back, not"— Mary had plodded through the letter so far when Hilda, with a loud shriek, dropped back upon her pillow. Abel and his wife hastened up stairs to find her again sitting up in bed, round eyed and gesticulating with her clinched fists. "I might ha' won him back—l would ha, she cried shrilly. ''A lie, Andrew Copley! It was a lie!" In this fashion she raved all through the night and long into the next day. Dr. Ratcliffe said it was brain fever, and although he eventually brought her back to bodily health her mind never recovered its sanity. Poor Hilda! She knows not that for the bread she eats, for the shelter above her head, for tho very clothes upon her back, she is beholden to the man whom she for 40 years past has daily exe crated. "She never sees me but she throws them awful words i' my face,"said Andrew to me. "I thowt I were actin for t' best when I did as I did—l thowt so truly." "I supposo you have never met this Ben Webb since?" "Oh, but I ha'o. I went to Grimsby o' purpose to spoil his beauty. If he's livin now, he's livin wi' the nose o' him ail askew. That prank cost me a week o' jail, but I'd stand a hundred years o' lockup for tho comfort that job cave me.''—Chambers' ,T:-.--.:.;■" Of late years the rigors of perfunctory mourning have been greatly modified. There is little heard nowadays of how long people should stay away from the theater after the death of a relative or at exactly what period it is again prop- , er to dine with "a few friends." Even ■ widow need no longer count the j threads of white in her collar and hand- j kerchief in mortal terror lest there I should be one too many. On the whole, the tendency is a sensible one, which, j in the nature of things, can hardly go too far. People suffering real bereave ment are not likely to be guilty of un due levity, while no sort of hypocrisy is more hideous than an affectation of sor row. —Exchange. spectator. THE BOILGIAN AZTECS DISCOVERY OF A POiSON RING IN AN ANCIENT MiiXICAN TOMB. A Queer Find Made by American Arr" t>- ologists—Remains of the Priest Who i'robably Took Ills Own Life by Means of Poison Administered Through a Ring. A correspondent of tiie Philadelphia Times in the City of Mexico writes as follows: Much has been written concerning the poison of the Borgias of Italy and the many subtle ways of i.dministering it to those whom the.) wished to quietly put out of their path, among these ways being that of rings with springs charged with poison, which, entering like a needle point into the victim's flesh, com municated it to him as effectually as if he had swallowed it. But it seems from a recent discovery made in this city that this clever manner of administering a fatal dose was not peculiar to the Italians, but was practiced by the an cient Mexicans, or Aztecs. In clearing the ground of an old ruin of a church which had hsjeome too di lapidated to render it safe for any one to enter its walls there were found in- j dications that beneath it was a forgotten burial ground, or at least a tomb. Eager American archaeologists requested and received from the authorities permission to examine into the matter, and the work of exhuming began. There was found to be a, vault con structed with some care of hewn blocks of stone put together and sealed into a hollow square with no opening. It re quired some difficulty to break through this, the work demanding care lest some curious relic be destroyed, but at last it was uncovered only to show that the tomb had an inner casing. This, however, was of masonry work and more easily removed. When this was done, a long, prostrate object was revealed wrapped in cloths of coarse texture, which had been dipped in j pitch. These, in turn, being broken through, finer cloths were found, and these were wrapped about the. well pre served body of a man. He had none of the dry and withered appearance of the Egyptian mnmmies, but looked as though his embalming had been the work of yesterday. He was be yond doubt an Indian, as was shown by the high cheek bones and facial angle, though of the more cultivated type of the people who inhabited this country before the coming of Cortez. He was a man of about 50 or 55, with a strong and even benevolent face mark- j ed slightly with smallpox, and was ; robed in what was evidently a priest's j dress. This was of white and of fine texture, bordered with a still well pre-. served band of humming bird's feathers of that exquisite handiwork for which j this people wore famous, and of which they still jealously guard the secret. In the right hand of the man was held a small idol of red sandstone, with opal eyes, while in the other a silver wand j or stick somewhat resembling a mar- j shal's baton, no doubt the insignia of his office. On the left hand was also a ring of silver in the shape of a coiled serpent, with the eyes of the green Mexi can diamond obtained from mines the locality -of which was never learned from the Aztecs even under torture by their greedy Spanish conquerors, and the secret of which still defies the ex plorer of today. In Order to examine this ring more closely, one of the party or nrehseologists attempted to pull it from the finger of the dead man, but was surprised to find that it was held there by a fine wire, the needlelike point of which was still sunken into tho brown flesh. After some manipulation this was finally re moved, and it was seen that the wire was a most delicate hollow tube, from which hung what looked like an in finitesimal bubble? of greenish gas. Suspecting that this might have had something of the character of the fa mous Borgian rings, the gentleman handled it carefully, and calling a Chi huahua dog of the hairless species, which had attached itself to the party, he pushed the point of the spring into the tip of the animal's ear aud awaited results. For a time it seemed that the ring had exhausted its deadly power, but after half an hour the dog was seeu to foam at the mouth, his eyes grew glassy, and in a few minutes more he fell over on one side, and after a con vulsion or two was found to be quite dead. This gave rise to the theory that the dead man had probably killed himself, or for somo offense had, by the rules of his order or the government, put himself to death, as it was lawful for one of the priesthood to suffer capital punishment. This also, in all probabil ity, accounts for his being entombed away from the temple where he served, or otherwise consecrated ground, an item of religious ruling with the Aztec as with tho Roman Catholics of today. On exposure to the air the body soon showed signs of decay and fell away almost as they watched it, but showing in this that only the outer husk of the flesh had been preserved, the interior being filled with fine sand. The ring, idol and other relics were claimed by the authorities and are now on exhibi tion at the National museum. Early London Directories. The earliest known directory of peo ple and places seems to be that of Lon don in 1677, of which only three copies are known—one in the Bodleian library, one in the Manchester Free library (which was bought for £5) and one sold at the Rev. Mr. Hunter's sale, which realized £9, although imperfect. The Manchester copy was carefully reprinted in 1878 by Chatto & Windus, with an interesting introduction, and the next London directory seems to have been one of 800 pages, published in 1733. The editor of the reprint in 1878 gives some details of earlier manuscript di rectories, or "Office of Addresses," by Henry Robinson, in 1050, who had an I "office in Threadneedle street, over > against the Castle tavern, close to tho ; Old Exchange in London," and it was described as "keeping particular regis ters of all manners of addresses,'' with a "catalogue of subjects of inquiry" so copious and so curious as to be a fresh proof that there is nothing now under the sun. Sixpence was tho fee, and for this small sum answers to all sorts of questions connected with business could be obtained.—Notes and Queries. IN LOVE'S ATTIC. The attic of young Cupid's house I visited one day To see the tattered bits of love That there were stored away. For castoff odds and end« of hearts About tho place were strown. Like baubles of some other days That long ago had flown. But yet the withered roses there— Frail wreaths from love's own tomb— Upon the dnsty, mellow air Still shed a faint perfume. -E. P. White. UlNUfcrt AN ELECTRIC FAN. The Disagreeably Experience of a Man Who Tried to sleep. "Ever sleep under an electric fan?" said a citizen to a newspaper man. "No? Well, I tried it one summer night, and the next morning I had it taken out of my house. I heard it was a great thing on hot nights, and as I could not sleep very well I had one put in my bedroom. You 800, it was all very well at the start. The cool breeze was delicious. I had kit the window open, and the arms of the fan seemed to catch a barrel of fresh air at each revolution. I felt splendidly, for I had been very hot before, and I tickled my self at the prospect of a good, sound sleep. But the whir, whir, humming noise of the fan seemed to attract my attention persistently. I tried to count the arms of the fan and then turned ont the light. Then the noise seemed to increase. It was zoo-zoo-zoo all the time, and I could not sleep. I actually got hot thinking about that fan. It was boo-zoo for hours, changing irregularly to whir, whir, whir, until at last I was almost crazy. I don't know how it happened, but I must have dropped off to sleep, for I had a dream. I thought that I had climbed about a big wind mill and had become fastened to the end of one of the arms. It was blowing a gale, and the arms of the windmill were flying around at a terrific rate. "As I went through the air the wind seemed to cut me like a knife. It buzzed in my ears and ran through my hair like a tornado through a forest. Finally, as I dreamed, I became unfastened from the arm of the windmill, and the mo mentum I had received threw me far out into space. I dropped and dropped and dropped. I tell you I was scared. I guess I gripped the pillow so tightly that it woke me up, for I did awaken just about the time I was about to drop around the earth again. I had the pil low hugged and pinched, and was per spiring like a colored laborer in a har vest field. I raised on my side and cursed that fan like an insane man, calling on it to stop. Then I arose and shut off the electricity. The thing died out with a moan, and I dropped off to sleep in a minute. This was about 2a. m. No, sir. Don't give me any more electrio fans to sleep under. It is as much as I can do to sleep without them."—Louis ville Courier-Journal. Hollow Pistons. The fact, though an infrequent one, that hollow pistons, on being heated for removal from the rod, have unexpected ly exploded has been the subject of spe cial investigation in France, the fact appearing that during the last 20 years five explosions have occurred in French workshops in the reheating of these hollow cast iron pistons. It appears from the statement made in this connec tion that, on examining into the interior of a piston which had been in use some 11 years, there was exhibited a brown substance which contained fatty matter —oxide of iron, peroxide of iron and carbon —and this being the case it was supposed that a certain quantity of wa ter had been forced into the cavity in service, either through tho iron or through some imperfection in the plugs with which the original core support cavities were filled. The water, in forming oxide of iron, set free its hy drogen, which filled the piston cavity, and as the recombination of this hydro gen with the oxygen at a low, red heat would haw the effect of producing an explosion of the character in question the sugg*s # tjpu. is put forth by tho ex perts' hflvi i iio*»his"examination in charge that Alch.y.T'eajiJt may be prevented by tapping 'TSefcte reheated.—New York Sun. ' *• • i • ' One on Jones. The Merchants' club was enjoying its weekly smoke talk. Mr. Jones, the well known clothier, was recounting one of his experiences. "Brown and I were great rivals in the spring of 1850," he was saying. "His store was directly across the street from mine. He was a hustler and pnshed me pretty hard. One day a young follow who was on his uppers applied to me for a job. I sent him out that night with a hammer, a lot of spikes and 100 pieces of tin, each a foot square, with the in scription: " 'Buy your pants of Jones.' "I gave him $5 for the job, with in structions to spike tho pieces of tin to the sidewalk in front of Brown's store. "I was a little late in getting down to the store the next morning. What did I see but the same man kneeling on the sidewalk, with a nail puller in his hands, engaged in pulling up the spikes and tins that he had put down the night before. Ho had on a new pair of trou sers, with a tremendous rip in them, and on his back was a placard reading: " 'I bought my pants of Jones.' "Brown had given him another $5 to undo the job that he had done for me. I never felt so cheap in all my life.'' — Boston Herald. How Cal Brice Got His Start. Senator Brico got his start in life in a rather interesting way. After he left college he studied law, but he didn't gel on very well, and he went to Charlia Foster, then governor of Ohio, and asked him if something in the way of an office couldn't be found for him. "Impossible,'' said the governor. ' ' You are a Democrat, and I am a Republican. It would cause no end of talk if I were to give you a place, with so many Re publicans wanting offices.'' But Brie* was in straits, and he begged so earnest' ly for somo help by which he might ex tricate himself that Foster finally placed a sum of money in his hands and told him to go to New York and look after a certain financial transaction. His last injunction to the young man was to fol low instructions. When he got there, Brice made inquiries first and then act ed directly contrary to what he had been told, telegraphing forthwith what he hasi done. Foster wired indignpntly for the reason. The reply was, "Bucauso I could make $40,000 for you." There was no questioning beyond that, and thencetorth Foster and Brice worked in harmony in various railroad operations, the latter giving up his idea of a legal career for the more lucrative one of rail road builder and promoter. Lord Denman and ills liattfr. This odd story is told of the Into Lord Denman, who, on being lei.iiuded by a west end hatter that a small account was "overdue," visited the shop and gave tho manager a legal reply to the request for payment. "You state, "he said solemnly as he stood over him, shaking his finger at him as though warning him to be careful, "that thia account is overdue. Remember that a bill of exchange or bill of acceptance may become overdue, but a tradesman's account never. A gentleman pays when he thinks he will or when he has the money; but, to show that no ill feeling exists, I will pay the account and take another hat."—London Star. 1 itaunton % pettator, RATES" OF ADVERTISING. ' Advertisements are inserted at the rate of 12 X cents per line, for ttie first, and cents for each subsequent insertion. Local Notices are inserted at the rate of 10 cents per line for the first, and 10 cents for each subsequent insertion. Business Notices are inserted at the rate o lo cents for the first and a cents for each suL j sequent insertion. A liberal discount will be made on all orders for 3,8, or 12 months, i Obituaries, Announcements of Candidates for offlce, and all communications of a person al oi -private character, will be charged for an advertisements. NO. 6. IT'S A MILLSTONE fU About a young A man's neck to be a 5* sufferer from ner «t vous exhaustion, ner bk»\ vous debility, impair- ed memory, low J spirits, irritable ter n and the thousand and one derangements of mind and body that result from, ■■■> unnatural, pernicious habits, contracted through ignorance. Such habits result in loss of manly power, wreck the constitution and sometimes pro duce softening of the brain, epilepsy, pa ralysis, and even dread insanity To reach, re-claim and restore such un fortunates to health and happiness, is the aim of the publishers of a book written in plain but chaste language, on the nature, symptoms and curability, by home treat ment, of such diseases. This book will be sent sealed, in plain envelope, on receipt of ten cents in stamps, for postage. Address. April 18-lyr CAN YOU WRITE? If you can we will give you a FOUNTAIN PEN FREE Carried in the pocket. Always ready for use. The Holder is of hard rubber perfectly form ed and finished; Tha Feed is of the most ap proved pattern, i the same used in a Den cost nil; $2.00.) insuring an even flow and no leakage The Point will write and last nearly as long as gold. Each pen is tilled with the best ink and tried before before sent out. NOW FOR THE PLAN. Send us 25 cents in lc and 2c stamps or sliver, for a half year's subscription to Vir ginia, a beautiful illustrated 24 page, monthly mayazinc, with excellent information for the office, parlor, bedroom, dlningroom, kitchen, farm and garden, with .lust wit and humor enough to drirc away the blues. Don't put it off but write to-day and you will have both the pen and magazine promptly. Address. VIRGINIA PUBLISHING CO. RICHMOND, VA. June il-iimos. CHURCH DIRECTORY. First Presbyterian Church, on Frederick St between New and Market streets, services 11 a. m. and Bp. m. Pastor, Rev. A. M. Fraser Second Presbyterian church corner Freder ick and Lewis streets. Services at 11 a. m and 8. Pastor, Rev. Wm. dimming. Emmanuel Episcopal Church, worship at Y. M. C. A. Hall. Services at 11 a. m., and Bp. m. Rector, Rev. R. C. Jett. Trinity Episcopal church. Mam street, be tween Lewis and Church streets. Services at U a. m., and Bp. m. Rector, Rev. W. Q. Hul lihen United Brethren church, Lewis street, be tween Main and Johnson streets. Services at 11 a. m and 8 p. 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. H. Boyd, D. D Christ Evangelical Lutheran church, Lew is street, between Main and Frederick street? 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 Augusti street, Mass at 7 and 10.30 a. m. Vespers and benediction of Most Blessed Sacrament »t p. m. Pastor, Rev. Father McVerrv. Young Men's Christian Association, corner Main and Water streets. Services at 4 p. m. Sunda . DIRETORY OF LOOC ES. MASONIC LODGE. Staunton Lodge No. 13, A. F. and A. M., meets every' second and last Friday night in eacl* month, in Masonic Temple, .Main street. Jas M. Lickliter.W. M; IS. A. BriorMge, Secy. UNION ROYAL ARCH CHAPTER. No. 2, meets third Friday in every month, in Masonic Temple, on Mam street. W. W. Mc Guffln, High Priest; A. A. Eskridge, Secy. ODD FELLOWS' LODGE. Staunton Lodge, No. 45,1. 0. O. F. meets cv cry Thursday night in Odd Fellows' Hall, ovel Wayt's drug store, on Main street. John C FretweU Noble Grand: C. A. Crafton, Sec' . KNIGHTS OF HONOB ODGE. Staunton Lodge, No. 756, of Honor meets every first and third Tuesday in each month, in Pythian Hall, Main street. W. L. Olivier, Dictator; W. A. Burnett, Recorder. MOUNTAIN CITY LODGE. No. 116,1. O. G. T., meets every Friday night In their lodge room over Wayt's drug store on Mato street. A. S. Woodhouse, Chief Templar F. B. Kennedy, Secy. DISTRICT LODGE. No. 22,1.0. G. T., meets every three months G. C. Shipplett, D. C. T.; S. H. Bauserman District Secretary. ROYAL ARCANUM. Augusta Council, No. 490, Royal Arcanum meets every second and fourth Tuesday in the month, at Pythian Hall, Main street. W. W. Robertson, Regent; Jos. B.Woodward, Sec retary. SONS OF TEMPERANCF Charity Division, M. A., Sons of Temperance meets every Monday night at Odd Fellows all. W. A. Rapp, Worthy Patriarch; John B. CoSelt, Secy. UNIFORMED RANK, KNiGHTS OF PYTHIAS. E. B. Stuart Division, No. 10, meets second and fourth Mondays each month at Pythian Hall. Sir Knight Captain, F. B. Berkley; S Knlgjbt Recorder, S. H. Rosenbaum. KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. Valley Lodge, No. 18, K. of P., meets Monday night at Castle Hall, on West street, over Dr. Wayt's drug store. C. T. Ham mond, Chancellor Commander; Albest Keeper of Records and Seal. KNIGHT TEMPLARS. Staunton Commandery, No. 8, Knights Tem plar, meets first Friday night in every month in Masonic Temple, on Main street. W. B. McChesney, Eminent Commander; A. A. Esk ridge. Recorder. ONEIDA TRIBE, NO. 88,1. O. R. M., Meets in their wigwam, in Valz Buildln. every Wednesday at 7th run 30th breath setting of the sun. S. S. Peterson, sachem James W. Blackburn, chief of records. A visiting brothers welcome. AMERICAN LEGION OF HONOR. Valley i ouncil No. 7M meets on the first ami third Mundays in each mouth. Coiiiin A. S. Woodhouse; secretary. Dr. J. M. Hamper collector, Isaac C. Morten, Jr. CATHOLIC HIBERNIAN BKNII'ICALI SOCIETY.] Meets first Sunday in every month In then hall on the church lot. M. T. liergin, presl dent; J. J. first vice-president; J. J Murphy, second vice-president: D.J. O'Conneil recording secretary. "STONEWALL" BRIGADE BAND. Band meets every Monday and Thursday orchestra, every Wednesday, at s p. in.. In City Hall. Mr. J. M. Brereton, director, J. A. Armentrout, president, and C. Harry Haines, secretary. CENTRAL PROHIBITION CLUB. Mcc on Thursday night of each week, In It ub room, 119 East Main street. Jas. W. Bod y. Acting President; Preston A. Ross, Secre a*y* CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. Monthly meetings, Fourth Tuesday in the month at 7:30 o'clock. Boom In City Hail build lug Isaac Wits,president; J.C.*niet«9, I secr