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itawtton JWrtator* •R,icx__:_f_._rs,X3 _v__r_.~_ r __r_r,« Editor s__.cL -Proprietor. TERMS, $2.00 A YEAR. emlttances should lie made bycheck raft, postal order, or registered letter. PKOFj-i PIOSAL. (BARTER BRAXTON, _ _ „_ J ATTOKNEY-AT-LAW, No. 23 S. Augusta St. Special attention given to collections. CS. W. BARNES, . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, No.J4 West Main Street, sept 27-tf Staunton, Va. WH. LANDES, _ . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. No. 2, Court House Square, aug 9-tf ALEX. F. ROBERTSON, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. Office No. i Lawyers' Row, in rear of Court house. DX. D. A. BIICHEK DENTIST. Office In 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. Law Offices ALEXANDER & TAYLOR, Lawyers, No 0 Lawyers' Row, oct 17-tf JM. QUARLES, . . _ . ATTORNEP-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. feb 17, '86-tf Wm. A. Pratt, Hugh Holmes Kerr. PRATT _ KERR. ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW, No. 17 Court Place, - - Staunton, Va _OTARY PUBLIC. JOS. A. GLASGOW, _-..-. ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Rooms, No. 23 S. Augusta Street, Skinner Building. STAUNTON, VA. aug 10-tf Dr. h. m. Patterson, staunton, va. Offers his professional services to the citi zens of Staunton. Office No. 121 East Mtain Street. T H. CROSIER, f I . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Office oil Courthouse square, STATNTON, VA. Pr< n.ipt attention given to all lcca' busines.? n rusted to him, in State or Fei'.ei»l Cowto. 'Vind'-vote entire time to his profession. ■iiik* l-tf O E. R. NELSON, Attorn ky-at-Law a>'d Commissioner n Chancery. OFFICE No. 10 LAWYERS' ROW. Jan 4-tf STAUNTON, VA. A 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 ithis time, give my undivided time and exclu 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 1895. The Sun! 1895 Baltimore, Md. The Paper of the People. For the People and with the People. Honest in Motive. Fearless in Expression. Sound in Principle. Unswerving in Its Allegiance to Right Theories and Right Practices. The Sun Publishes All the News Aid. the Time, but it does not allow its columns to be degraded by unclean, immoral or purely sen sational matter. Editorially, The Sun is the Consistent ANr unchanging champion and defender of popular rights and intekests against politi cal machines and monopolies of every charac ter. Independent in all things, extreme in none. It is for good laws, good government and good order. By mail Fifty Cents a month, Six Dollars a year. The Baltimore Weekly Snn. The Weekly Sun publishes all the news of each week, giving complete accounts of all events of interest throughout the world. As an Agricultural paper The Weekly Sun is unsurpassed. It is edited by writers of prac tical experience, who know what farming means and what farmers want in an agricul tural Journal. It contains regular reports oi the work of the agricultural experiment stations throughout the country, of the pro ceedings of farmers' clubs and institutes, and tlie discussion of new methods and ideas in agriculture. Its Market Reports, Poultry Department and Veterinary column are par tlcularly valuable to country readers. Ever;, issue contains Stories, Poems, Householi and Puzzle Columns, a variety of interesting and instructive selected matter and other fea tures, which make it a welcome visitor in citj and country homes alike. One dollar a year. Inducements to getters up of clubs for the Weekly Sun. liotli tlie Daily and Weekly Sun mailed free of postage in ttie I nited States, Canada and Mexico. Payments invariably in advance. Address A. S. Abell Company, Publishers and Proprietors. Baltimore, Md. dec 26. 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 welladapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, I recommend it as superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, known to me." H. A. Abcher, m. D., Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes di -111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. T. gestion, Without injurious medication. " The use of ' Castoria' Is so universal and Its merits so well known that it seems a work s>— „_ ■ -„„—. r _ * * . . _ _ _. ■ For several years I have recommended of supererogation to endorse it. Few are tho your , md shaU contmue to intelligent f amities who do not keep Castoria do so as it has invariably produced bonefid-* within easy reach." resulte." Carlos Makttn, D. D., Edwin F. Pardee, M. D., New York City. 185 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City. T—B CENTAUR Co-PAHT, 77 Mdb_AY STREET, NEW YORK CITT VOL. 72. How's 1 I Your Liver? Is the Oriental salutation, -' knowing that good health cannot exist without a healthy Liver. When the Liver is torpid the Bow els are sluggish and con stipated, tlie food lies in the stomach undi fested, poisoning the lood; frequent headache ensues; a feeling of lassi tude, despondency and nervousness indicate how the whole system is de ranged. Simmons Liver Eegulator has heen tho means of restoring more Eeople to health and appiness by giving them a healthy Liver than any agency known on earth. It acts with extraor dinary power and efficacy. NEVER BEEN DISAPPO'.. 1 ED, As a general family remedy for dyspepsia, •Torpid Liver, Constipation, etc., I hardly ever use anything else, and have never been dis appointed in the effect produced; it seems to . I be almost a perfect cure for all diseases of th« " 1 fitomach and Bowels. . • W. J. McElboy, Macon, Oa. nov 28-1 vr Hours for ai rival ana Closing of Mails af stain . j ton Postole. ARRIVE. r ' BY C. AND O. RAILROAD. 5 a. ni. from north, south, east and west. 9.57 a. m. from west. - 2.40 p. m. from Richmond and intermediate points. 7.05 p. m. from north, east and south. BY B. AND O. j 7.22 a. m. from Lexington and intermediate points. 1.50 ii. ni. from the north. " 9.09 p. in. from the north, Harper's Ferry and intermediate points. STAR ROUTES. 7 a. m. from Plunkettsville, daily except Sun day. >, 111 a. m. from Mt. Meridian, daily except wn ■'av. 5 p. in. from Middlebrook. dally except sun dav. 5.30 p. in. fro-m Monterey, daily except Sunday. 10.30 a m. from Sa l^ersville. CLOSF. FOR B. AND O. 5.30 a. m. tor Lexington, 0.30 a. m. Harper's Ferry and points north. 2.15 a. m. for Harrisonburg, Woodstock and points north. 1.10 p. in. for Lexington and intermediate points. 6.00 p. m. for Lexington and intermediate points. for c. and o. 1 9.15 a. m. and 2,15 p. m. for north, east, south' , 9.00 p. m. for east, north, south and west. 2.15 p. ni. for Clifton Forge and intermediate points. I 6.15 p. m. for the west. STAR ROUTES—DAILY EXCEPT SUNDAY. I '- I 5.30 a. m. for Monterey. a j 6.00 a. m. for Middlebrook. l " 1.00 p. m. for Mt. Meridian. s i 6.15 p. m. for Plunkettsville. '" ' 12.30 p. m. for Mt. Solon daily. STAUNTON OFFICE Opens 7a. m., closes 7 p. m. Money order - and registry business opens at Ba. m., closes 6 » d. m VV. T. McCUE. P. M. TO INVENTORS. If you have made an invention you want a patent. And you want a good one. There are various kinds of patents. Some of them are not worth keeping around the house. They don't protect. It is as unsafe to trust to them as to a lightning rod without a ground con nection. That is the kind an inventor is like ly to get when he dra'vs up his own specifica l tions, or trusts the work to an irresponsible E attorney. It is not the kind dealt in by the c Press Claims Company. 1)0 you want to know what the Press Claims Company Is f It is a syndicate of hundreds of the leading papers of the United States, or r ganized to protect those of the subscribers F who have dealings with Government against | the impositions of unscrupulous claim agents. '" The Spectator is a member. '.- ! This able Company employs the best legal .. ! talent in every branch of its work. It makes a specialty of all matters relating to patents. t csnducting interferences, prosecuting rejected cases, registering trade-marks and copyrights, a , rendering opinions as to scope and validity of patents, securing patents abroad, prosecuting and defending infringement suits, etc. It charges nothing for information, and very moderate fees for services. A d (__*_.* s PRESS CLAIMS COMPANY, No. 618 F St., N. W., Washington, D. C. 8 JOHN WEDDERBURN, oct 17-tf General Manager. .s * NOTICE. I want every man and woman in the United - ; States interested in the Opium and Whisky 1- habits to have one of my books on these dis if eases. Address B. M. Woolley, Atlanta, Ga, t Box 382, and one will be ✓ ent you free. )- — ?T0 MY FRIENDS ; AM the Pi.lie Generally, i- I have rented the stable on Water street '-" known as the Club stable, and am prepared, at my Sale and Feed Stable, to board horses by 3 - the month, week or day, at reasonable prices; also to furnish saddle and driving horses, ie double and single. c I 1 can furnish you a nice turn-out—Surry, 3. I Buggies, Buck-Hoards, etc.. all in style. ' accommodated at moderate prices. Parties wanting llrst-c'.ass turnouts can be Fine horses always kept for sale. Hoping to receive a share cf your patronage and guaranteeing satisfaction. 1 am Respectfully, mai*l3-tf ' R. A. CLEMMER. otftttntoit §fti Spectator. TIS NAUGHT. " ' * I 9 ont of 10 call "naught" an "aught," A "naughty" thing 2 do, 4 you will see tho figure "0" Is "naught" by looking through. It's like a strange " 'hole' number," true. And still there's "nothing" then. But if one stands be-4 it. you Can see a roguish 101 —Boston Transcript. TWO HIGHWAYMEN. I began at last to think that the ball would never come to au end. I hud looked forward to it with absolute dread, for I was well aware of the plan which niy uncle aud Madam Trelawney had devised between them. I had already recognized that the lady's sou was charming ill his boyish frankness, but I had seen from the lirst that it was in tended he should proposo to me before the night was ended—this night of all nights in tho year!—and I was resolved on my part that he should do nothing of tho sort. Truly, he was a gallant boy. I can fancy—for an old woman may surely tell her grandchildren sho once was beautiful—that we made a pretty couple as we danced together. I know that madam treated me with quite unusual consideration, and once I caught her watching us with au altogether delight ful air of satisfaction. Frank, too, did his dutiful best to offer me such atten tions as are proper in a lover, and though I was resolved to thwart his mother and to keep him from courting rejection I could not but enjoy the little play in which I was acting. I pictured the sur prise of all the good folks who were now watching me when the news of the morrow should reach them. And though I longed for the end of the ball, aud the more serious adventure which was des tined to follow, I found the situation vastly amusing. Perhaps it was this fact which chiefly helped me to keep Frank at a distance. " You are always laughing at a man," he said reproachfully during an interval between two dances, and upon my soul I was hard put to find an answer. I could scarcely say that for him I had only pity, and yet this would have been the truth, even though I was well aware that his disappointment would be only for a week or two. At auy rate, when tho hour of our de parture had come, his devotion was still undeclared, and madam looked upon me a shade less kindly, I thought, when I went to take farewell of her. But, in truth, I was by this time too completely overcome by excitement to notice little details in the comportment of these peo ple. They were all conspirators against my happiness and Dick's. I knew they would be checkmated within the hour, and already I could have laughed in their faces. My uncle was a great gamester and never known to lose his coolness. On this night he had gained a large sum at cards. But, for all that, I fancy he had taken a goodly quantity of liquor during the evening. I noticed that his voice was a little thick. No sooner were we seated in his coach than he lay back in a corner and slept peacefully; soon he was snoring. I was thus left alone. Indeed I could not have talked with him had it been otherwise, yet I now wished I were compelled to try, for the excitement I was in came near to being unendurable. I could see nothing through the windows of the coacli—nothing but the dim re flection of my own pale faco against a background of utter darkness. Had I been able to take note of the landmarks as we passed them I might have been calmer. Aa it was, we had hardly been gone from the house five minutes when I began and continued to feel passion ately assured that tho very next moment would bo productive of tho event to which I looked forward so eagerly. The drive appeared interminable. I began to think that Dick must have come early and grown tired of waiting, and I knew that if ho did not keep tryst my heart would simply break. And then, frightening me despite my eager anticipation of it, came the first sign. I saw a sudden blackness move past the window. A pistol cracked, and as the carriage ceased to move I heard a man's voice speaking sternly to the coachman and his companion on the box. It struck me the sternness was sin gularly well acted, for the coachman had been in the plot from the first. He happened to have a fancy for my maid, (ienefer, and Dick's bribe was a super fluity once she had undertaken to make sure of him. My uncle stirred in his corner, mut tering incoherently, but he was still more than half asleep when the door of the coach was opened, and a tall, grace ful figure—how well I knew it, having met him frequently at dusk on the edge of the old plantation!—stood dimly out lined against the darkness. The new comer was masked and pnt a pistol to my uncle's head. "Yon ride late, sir," he said And I wondered at the skill with which he disguised his voice. "I presume you carry firearms and must ask that you will trust them to my keeping. " I can hardly report my uncle's words. Indeed they were not coherent, so great was his indignation, but he gave up his pistols, and the highwayman straight way flung them far into the darkness. "Your purse," he continued politely Then, when he had received this also: "Sir Richard Courtney's luck at the cards has passed into a proverb Tell your friends, sir, that you have given their L O U. ! s to one who will never ask for payment, for 1 have uo doubt I shall find them here. " He put the purse into his pocket "There is adiamond ring, too," he said, '*aud a watch. " And these thinjs he also received and pocketed All this time my uncle had been curs ing him for a thief and swearing he would see him hanged within a month upon the-highest point of tho moorland. As for me, I had enjoyed the proceed ings to begin with, but now 1 begau to be afraid. Precious time was being Wasted There were others who must use this road in returning from the ball, and there was the risk of their coming to the rescue of my dear uncle and spoiling the plans on which so much de pended. Moreover, I conceived that my uncle would be hugely angry when he discovered how prettily he had been de ceived It was possible he might be car ried by his resentment so far as to make it appear that this mock robbery was real and so bring Dick to serious trou ble. It was with great relief I saw that it was ended The highwayman spoke again. "Yon have a lady in your company," he said. "I must trouble her" — "Scoundrel!" said my uncle, angrier than ho had been at all. "Do you rob helpless women also? Oh, but you shall hang high!" "'Beauty,'" quoted the highway man— "and I am pure the. JadJLi? STAUNTON, VA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 29,1895. beautiful —'Beauty unacroruea is tres„ : adorned.' I mnst ask the lady to step from her carriage a moment and give I me the jewels of which she surely has j no need.'' My uncle would have hindered me, j but I was past him in a moment and stepped out of the carriage. "Your necklet," said the highway man, holding forth his hand. I took the pearls from my neck and pressed his hand in passing them to him. "Be quick!" I said in a whisper. "Where is your horse?" Ho paused a moment. "I saw the gleam of a bracelet,'' he said '' I must relieve you of that also." Again I obeyed him, but tho fear that others would come while he still stopped fooling became more orgt—it "I'm ready," I whispered so ca.'orly that I wonder my uncle did not hear. "Why do you wait?" Again there was a paaso He ap peared a little disconcerted. "And I think you are wearing a ring," he went on. I took the ring from my finger. As I gave it to him I clutched Ins hand, se cure in tho protecting darkness. "Take mel"lsaid. "Take me!" Again he was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was in a curiously altered voice and with a little delighted laugh. "Dost mean it, sweet?" he cried. "Come, then!" I gave a scream of alarm —a portion of the play we had arranged together— as he caught me round tho waist and landed me upon his horse A moment later I was clinging to him for dear life as we dashed headlong into the black night and wont forward across the moorland. I heard him chuckle as my uncle roared his indignation after ns. We rode on and on through the dark ness. At first my excitement was so great as to render thought impossible. Moreover, the riding was of the rough est, and I had all I could do to keep my seat. But gradually, as I began to grow more accustomed to my situation, I was overtaken with a most drei.dful misgiv ing. The rider had hitherto seemed like enough to Dick, for I had known he would do his best to change his voice, and, as for his foolish robbery, it was just of a piece with his natural love of mischief. But now I began to feel cer tain that some impostor had taken his part; that I had eloped with another man—and he a common highwayman. Imagine my distress! I could conceive of no method of extricating myself from the position. A sense of blank helpless ness came over me, and I could do no more than cling tightly to t he highway man and await the event. We had ridden some miles when he suddenly drew rein and dismounted, landing me lightly beside bim. "Upon my soul," he said, "here is a pretty adventure! Heaven knows that I had always a passion for i'.:e unusual, or I should be still a humble usher in Brancaster academy. But, tell me, what am I to do with you?" I suppose I had hoped against hope. To find my fears were just lied was a disastrous blow to me, nor could I make any answer. "I would not wish a braver sweet heart," he continued, speaking with an odd and attractive perplexity. "But what have we gentlemen of the road to do with wives? Why, sweetheart, you heard the promises of your guardian. He will surely do his utmost to fulfill them, and how should I dare go to the gallows if I know that I left you wid owed and alone? I trust a score of maids would weep a little if poor Jack Arthur went the common way, but God forbid that any should remember him at a week's end It may seem that lam uu gallaut, yet I protest I do not like my share in this adventure. Kiss me, sweet, and then fancy I am old and very wise aud take my counsel, which is that you permit me to conduct you back to some place near your home. And yet—l would not wish a braver sweetheart!" Aud then, moved by the kindness of his words and his pleasant voice, I lost command of myself and burst into fool ish weeping. "Sir," I said, "I am altogether at yonr mercy. I have done that which will shame me all the rest of my days. But indeed I thought yon were anoth er—my sweetheart, whom I should have married tomorrow." I fancied he spoke less gayly than be fore. Perhaps he had not hoped alto gether that I would take his sage ad vice. "Ho, ho!" he cried, "then my good fortune is but another theft to my account? Ido not understand. You were to have married your lover tomorrow, and yet you entreat a stranger, and a highwayman at that, to carry you off! This is the maddest of adventures." "Sir!" I said, "my uncle stands to me in the place of father and mother." The highwayman chuckled. "Poor child!" he said, and softly stroked my hand, which, it seems, he had been holding for some minutes. "Poor child!" "He would have me marry one whom I do not love, and I began to fear that presently he would overcome me and compel"— "Tlis old hunks!" cried the highway man. "You shall marry whom you lboose. Nay, I withdraw my foolish Wisdom. Come with me, and before the tiight is here again you shall be Mistress Arthur. Believe me : " he added, with a. pretty conceit —"believe me, there are many who will envy you." "But, sir," I interrupted, "you for get what I have told you. Of late I have been closely guarded, for my undo had discovered that I have given my love to a yeoman of the place. Tonight there was a ball at the house of Madam Tre lawuey, a great lady, whose son was destined by my uncle and by her to be my husband, and it was amuiged that ho should stop tho coach on our return and carry me away with him. " The highway-ia- laughed loudly. "And that is why you did not faint or scream?" he said "I fell in love with you because of that, and that is why I was so flattered at your suggestion of an elopement. But—what will the real lover do? Will ho stop the coach a sec ond time and find the bird flown? I warrant ho will pl.'.y the part execrably. I should hardly bo surprised to hear he had let himself be captured " I could not endure his jesting. '' Sir," I said, "I am in your hands, and it is small wonder you find my plight. only laughable. I have made myself a show for all the country to laugh at. Never a 1 peddler but will bo selling ballads in a 1 sennight about this that I have done tonight. Yet I could believe you kinder than most. I entreat that you will help me." ' He was sober in a moment. "Upon my soul," he said, "the caso is one to puzzle a very Solomon! I would do ' much to help you, but I am not alto ' gether free to do so as I would To be ■ frank, my life hangs upon my escaping out of these regions with all the celerity " I can command. And my life—but i , ii---. I" He broke off, and kneeling placed his ear to the ground. Then he arose, with j a curious, excited laugh. "The adven j tore grows in interest," he said "Hero j comes the honest yeoman, and in hot i 'haste." - I listened eagerly and heard far off the sound of a horse galloping furiously along the rough track, which was then -the only road across the great moorland. I saw a sudden movement on the part of my companion and perceived that he was fingering his pistols as he stood si lent in the darkness. "Not that!" I cried entreatingly. "There will be need of an explana tion of some kind," he said. "Perhaps you will undertake it. I confess I have not a sufficient gift of words, and I am a little inclined to doubt whether your sweetheart will be in the mood for verbal explanations. Doubtless, as a gentleman of the road, ho will ride armed." The sound of the hoofs grew nearer. He was silent now and listened most at tentively to the approaching sound. Presently the rider was quite near. "Dick!" I called. "Dick, all's well, and I am in the company of a friend of yours and mine." A moment later he was upon us, and sure enough he held a pistol in his hand. He jumped from his horse in an instant and caught me to him. But it was the highwayman who spoke first. "Sir," he said, "I see by the pistol yon carry that you take a very proper view of the situation. And yet I believe that everything may be explained. If you will consult the lady"— "Dick," I said, "this gentleman is a friend. He took me with him, very much against his will, because I asked that he would take me, and I did that because I thought that he was you. Yon know our plan. He is"— I paused. The highwayman laughed. "I follow day by day the trade which it pleased yon to adopt for a single night. I anticipated you by a few minutes. We are both of ns tall men, and the lady took the difference of voice and manner for a clever disguise. I was engaged about my ordinary business when she appeared to suggest that I should elope with her. I will confess my good luck amazed me at first, but I was quick to embrace it, nor did I discover how far astray my conceit had led me until the very moment of your approach. We were endeavoring to devise a method of re storing the lady to her friends when yon appeared to solve our difficulty." "You forget," said Dick doggedly— "you forget the little matter of the money and jewels you have stolen." The highwayman started. " 'Con vey, ' the wise call it," he replied, with some tartness. "Bnt the only course is that I should surrender everything to yon, and then it should be clear to you that I am no less a messenger of Provi dence to you and the lady—a god from the machine." Dick was silent, his arm about my waist, his figure held ready for action. "The good uncle has been robbed of goods and niece,'' went on the highway man easily. "You come upon him in his distress, hear the tale and straight way go in pursuit of the thief—the good uncle called me 'thief' —and compel him to disgorge. In truth, the least he can do is to give you the lady in return for his goods. For, though perhaps you do not guess it, you have shown some brav ery tonight." The thing was beautifully clear. "In deed," I cried, "he shall do no less. Dick, we will go back, and I promise you shall marry me when yon will and with his consent. Do you not see it?" "He ought to do so, "said Dick grudg ingly. "I suppose we must thank you, sir." "Oh," said the highwayman lightly, "there is no need of thanks. Here aro the jewels and the purse. But first"— he opened the purse and extracted some scraps of paper—"l promised to liberate certain poor debtors, and that promise I must keep." Ho tore the papers into fragments and leaped upon his horse. "Farewell!" ho cried and vanished into the night. Nor did I hear of him again until he was hanged, two years afterward, for a most daring robbery. At least there was one who wept at the news of his death—and she a happy wife.—H. D. Lowry in Strand Maga zine. Excess of Intollectuali-.nl. The soul, indeed, can be trained to considerable indifference; it can te rendered obtuse to pain and pleasure, to impressions and affections. But such indifference means not uniting ourselves closer with nature and tho infinite, but cutting loose from them on one whole side. Tho human creature, no longer enjoying, no longer sympathizing, no longer loving, would hold on to the uni verse only by his rc.ison. The wind would blow, trees rustle, waters mur mur, hills be blue and fields green and people around be beautiful, brilliant or kind, sorrowing or clinging, without his being any tho wiser. It would be good practice for dying, as indeed Roman stoicism was tho school where men learned to escape from tyran ny by suicide of body and souL Such stoicism is the folly of philosophers, the cowardice of heroes, the blasphemy of those who, believing in gods, reject their good gifts for fear of their bad. It is afraid of the universe and tries to look at it as Perseus at the head of Medusa, only in the reflected image. This excess of iutellectualism, thinking to limit all wants to those of the logical intellect, would defeat its own end, for what should tho intellect contemplate and dis cuss, if all were reduced to abstractions, if things existed only as ideas, if the moment, the individual, the sensation, the emotion, ceased to be?—Vernon Lee in Contemporary Review. All Ho Knew. Poote, celebrated as ho was as a man of great talent and wit, was not content to leave the stage alone, though his per formances upon it brought him a most unenivable notoriety. His Othello is said to have been a perfect burlesque, and Hamlet, which character ho at tempted in the early part of his life, at his own benefit, was still more ludicrous. In the sceuo where Hamlet quarrels with Laertes, saying: What is tho reason you use me thus? I loved you ever—but it is no matter. Let Hercules himself do what ho may, Tho cat will mew, the dog will have his day. Foote desired to distinguish himself and entered into the quarrel with such spirit that tho words completely desert ed him. "Let Hercules himself do what he | may,'' began the actor, with great heat, "the dog will mew—no, that's the cat. j The cat will bark—no, that's the dog! i The dog will m—no, that's the cat i | again! The cat will—uo, the dog— | pshaw! It's something about mewing i and barking,'' concluded the bewildered ; Foote in a profuse perspiration. "It's all about mewing and barking, ladies and i gentlemen, but I know nothing more of • the matter I"—Youth's Companion. PREHISTORIC CRIMEA.' Tbe Early History of the Bleak Peninsula Veiled In Mystery. ! We halt at tho evacuated city of aii ! cieut Kherson, lemarkable for curious rock dwellings ami tombs still contain- I ing tho bou"-; of early inhabitants, bnt whether of Tartnr invader or Greek col- I on:st, who shall say? Civilization nnd barbarism tread so closely on each other in the Crimea that historical traces of the distant past often becomes confused beyond recognition. Crini Tartary, known to the ancient world as Chersonesns T/auriea, possessed a legendary reputation many centuries before the Christian era, but the early history of the bleak and barren penin sula is veiled in the twilight of dream land and myth. Greek thought pictured the Chersonesus as a dark realm of mys tery and death, and the fancies of the early poets teemed with vivid imagery drawn from the inhospitable shores and savage cliffs washed by the stormy waves of the treacherons Euxine. Although the city of Sevastopol was built on the supposed site of Kherson, when the Crimea was annexed to Russia in 1786 recent excavations show that the ancient town extended far inland Sandy tracks seam the plain in every di rection around the rocky dwellings of the early Turi—baths, ovens and cis terns honeycombed the granite founda tions, and the museum contains numer- : ons household utensils of eai ihenware and iron, together with the stone weap- ; ons and flint arrowheads of primitive I times. Rude earrings of disks and circles symbolize some forgotten eastern —reed, buried too deeply in the dust of ages to be capable of excavation. Archaic sculp ture, Greek inscriptions and Roman brickwork suggest a melody of ideas, and we escape from the bewildering chronol ogy of ancient Kherson to the neighbor ing church of St. Vladimir, a distinct landmark of one memorable epoch in Crimean history. The ancient sanctuary now forms the crypt of the brilliant ca thedral overhead, aud the rugged sim plicity of the venerable church contrasts sharply with the elaborate ornament of the modern temple. The black stono . fount wherein the apostle of Russia baptized the first Tar tar converts to Christianity occupies the center of the shadowy crypt, the spot on which St. Vladimir stood being railed off and considered holy ground. Wild looking peasants, with matted hair and long beards, are kissing tho jeweled icons in the upper church, with much preliminary bowing and crossing. The uncouth aspect of these fervent worship ers shows that even in the nineteenth century Russia still hovers on the edge of barbarism. Close at hand lies the monastery of St. George, hewn in a granite cliff which towers np perpendicularly from the Black sea. Long tunnels lead to a labyrinth of cells and chapels, from whence flights of rocky steps emerge on the ontside of tho precipice, where ar butus clings to tho narrow ledges and yellow broom trees wave in the winds. These impregnable strongholds were able to protect themselves from the fierce tribes of wandering Tartars in the early days of Russian Christianity, aud the monastery of St. George, rich in leg ends of attack and defense, colored by the miracles of local saints, gains addi tional interest to English minds as Miss Nightingale's headquarters during the Crimean war. A brown frocked monk, with long gray curls and flowing beard, conducts ns through the maze of rock tunnels. His brethren are iv choir, and the weird chanting of the eastern church mingles with the eternal voice of the sea as it breaks into foam against tho frowning cliff. Across the water, blue as molten lapis lazuli today, thousands of sea gulls fly in a white cloud to their home in the rocks, described as "the bird haunted headlands" even in the days of Enrip ides, who wove into his great drama, "Iphigenia inTauris," the wild scenery of this iron bound coast, with its fierce traditions of human sacrifice and bar baric orgies.—London Society. Why He Unraveled His Stocking*. The coolness and resources of the steeplejack were never better shown tban in a case which happened in the north a few years ago. A steeplejack had flown his kite over a chimney, and subsequent ly drawn himself up to the top. He was just beginuiug his ißspeeticn of the work, when, by some mishap, he drop ped his rope, and was left, like St. Simon Stylites, alone on his pillar. Attempts were made io fly another kite i ver him, but the wind had dropped. There were iron ladders inside the chimney, but the fires would have had to be drawn, and the chimney let cool for hours. The steeplejack was then seen to unlace one of his boots, takeoff the long blue stock ing generally worn by workmen, and set to work carefully to unravel it, knotting the pieces of yarn together when neces sary. He then fastened a stone to the end, plumbed the depth, picked the oth er stocking to pieces, and added it to the first length of yarn, and let it down far enough to meet a tall ladder, from which he drew up, first a strong string, . next a rope, and then, after completing his inspection of the chimney top, low ered himself to the ground.—London Spectator. Making Snre. On a recent missionary Sunday at one of the largest Presbyterian churches in Philadelphia the pastor preached en the distress of the heathen and the benef icent influence of Christianity. A prac tical business man was moved to place $1 in the collection. After the service he waited around to speak to the pastor. When he had secured his attention, he said, "Pastor, I gave $1 to the foreign mission this morning, but I was so im pressed by your description of the condi tion of the heathen races that I would really like to have them get the benefit of that dollar.'' Tho pastor looked np inquiringly, and the man added, "Here is $10 to pay th*j expenses of getting the dollar over there. " —Philadelphia Let ter. An Indian tsaoy boomer. One of the strangest ways of inducing babies to sleep is prevalent in India, where the native mothers put their lit tle ones' heads under a spout of watei to get them a-slumbering and keep them quiet. .There are a series of tiny spout adjusted to the hill springs, and under each spout is a kind of earthen pillow and a little trough constructed to carry off tho water. The restless child is placed upon this pillow in such a posi tion that one of the spouts plays directly on the top of the head, the water tric kling off into the trough and passing away. Tho process is most successful, and the babies seem to enjoy it, and the mothers say that the little ones aro strengthened and benefited by this means. In fact, they assure, or endeavor to assure, the incredulous white mother that if a child is not subjected to this treatment daily it will grow up weak tninded aud _opd for nothing. CHEW ALL YOUR FOOD FACTS IN DIGESTION AND HABITS THAT DISTURB IT. "Salivary Indigestion" and Its Causes, Abnndant Use of Sweets Is Very Bad. Strong Acids on Cereal Foo*' I Objection able Shun Ices aud Cold. Water. The necessity of carefully chewing the food is popularly considered to rest upon tbe advisability of separating it into small portions, so that when it reaches the stomach it may be better acted upon by tho gastric juice. But impor tant as this is, there is another reason— namely, the necessity of mixing the food well with the saliva, which has its own part to play in the digestive organs. It is just as necessary therefore to chew . foods that are already minced or pul verized as those that require separation with the teeth, and failure to do so prop erly results in indigestion. In Modern Medicine an interesting article deals with the evils resulting from imperfect mastication, which it calls "Salivary '■ Indigestion." At the outset our attention is called to the fact that accurate knowledge on , the subject was for a time actually ob- i ec-red by an important discovery. Leuchs, about 60 years Ego, found that faliva converts starch into sugar. To bis fact indeed its valno is due, since ' the gastric juice will not digest starch ' directly. But since the saliva will not act upon starch thus when rendered acid iZ was a t gdcq co_dudfiu i——t it could have no useful digestive qualities, since the food remained such a short time in the mouth and the gastric juice ■ of the stomach is powerfully acid. Re cent investigations have shown, how ever, that at the beginning of digestion < the fluid contains no free acid, and that ■ the digestive power of saliva goes on in creasing till its alkaline qualities are actually neutralized. Hence it has half an hour or so to act—ample time for its purpose. The article goes on to say: "During the half or three-quarters of an hour which intervenes between the swallowing of the food and the produc tion of a degree of acidity sufficient to prevent the action upon the starch through the appearance of free hydro chloric acid very active conversion of starch is taking place. If the food has been thoroughly masticated, so that it is broken up into fine particles, thus also insuring an admixture of an abundant quantity of saliva, the great share of the starch elements of the food will be ren dered soluble by conversion into dex trin, even if not completely converted into sugar, thus setting free the nitrog enous elements which may be acted upon by the gastric juice in their turn. "It must not be forgotten also that the saliva is the most active peptogen— that is, the presence of saliva in the stomach, in connection with the food, stimulates glandular activity on the part of the stomach, whereby an active and abundant supply of gastric juice is pro duced "Another cause of salivary indigestion which we should mention is the abun dant use of sweets. In order that the saliva shall exercise its properties ef ficiently it is necessary that it should act in a suitable medium. A tempera ture of 100 degrees and an alkaline or neutral reaction are necessary for prompt and vigorous action on the part of the saliva upon the farinaceous elements of food. A low temperature hinders this action and acidity stops it altogether. The presence of a large amount of sugar also hinders the action of the saliva. "It is thus evident that the copious drinking of cold water, or the taking of iced foods in connection with meals, is a means of producing salivary indiges tion. The free use of strong acids, such as vinegar, in connection with cereal foods, is equally objectionable. Nothing could be more absurd than tho combina tion of strong acids with vegetable ele ments, as in pickles. This is probably the reason why so many persons find themselves unable to use acid fruits without fermentation. The acidity may be sufficient to neutralize the action of the saliva upon the starch. "Evidently it is not only psycholog ically absurd to add sugar to farinaceous foods, since the starch, which composes ono-half tho woight of these foods, is all converted into sugar in (he process of digestion, but the practice is also highly injurious, since it prevents the normal action of the saliva upon the starch. In thi i way sugar, preserves, sweet confectionery, ice cream, cakes and oth er sweets are in the highest degree con ducive to salivary indigestion. The con sequences of salivary indigestion are: Acid fermentations, heartburn, stomach and intestinal colic, dilation of the stomach, catarrh of the stomach and many evil effects arising from these con ditions. "The remedy for salivary indigestion consists in prohibiting sweets, ices and soft foods and requiring patients to masticate thoroughly every particle of food swallowed. In many cases it is well to aid the process of salivary digestion by exposing the cereal food substances to the prolonged action of heat, thereby converting the starch into dextrin, ren dering it more readily soluble, and hence more readily acted upon by the saliva. Granola and swieback are invaluable ar ticles of food for use in cases of this sort. The malt preparations are useful as pal liatives in some cases, but it should be remembered that it is wrong to become dependent upon any artificial digestive aeent." How Balow Conducted an Orchestra. It is said that no one who ever saw Billow at the conductor's desk, control ling an orchestra as if it were a single instrument on which he himself was playing, could ever forget the influence of his wonderful personality. A Bee thoven symphony conducted by Bulow was a revelation. His manner of con ducting was inimitable. With him ev erything was impulse, every movement a personality—the expression of a deli cate sensibility, and it was this that made the communication of his purposes to the orchestra so effective. No one understood how to extract such a brilliance, such a fullness, from his orchestra as Bulow did The clear ness and absolute precision of his rhythm were unsurpassed His epigram, "In tho beginning there was rhythm,'' is notorious. No One could make his or chestra speak with such passion. And the same works played the next day un der another conductor were no longer the same things that they had been un der the magic wand of the great leader. —Musical Courier. The New Man. "Look," twittered the new man, "is not this just a lovely waistcoat? I made it myself out of one of her old sleeves. Ain't I saving?" And the other new man gazed at the garment in voluble admiration.—ln dianapolis Journal Staunton Spectator, RATES OF ADVERTISING. Advertisements are inserted at the ratal of 12.X cents per line, for the first, and 6.*, cent* for each subsequent insertion.: Local Notices are inserted at the rate of W cents per line for the flrst, and 10 cents for each subsequent insertion. Business Notices are inserted at the rate of lo cents for the flrst aud 8 cents for each sub sequent insertion. .«, ■i U s e j;2 l i? isco, i? t wiu be made on a 1 orders for J, «, or 13 months. ,°b 1 * v - rles * Announcements of Candidates for offlce, and all communications tt " ulu "*~* al or private character, will be charged for an advertisements. -.iscuwrui NO. 38. The Joys or < „,i I. The fascinations of golf can only ha learned by experience, it is difficult hv explain them. It has its humorous and its serious side. It can be begun as sooa as you can walk, and once begun it ii continned as long as you cun see. Th*»' very nature of the exercise gives length! of days. Freedom of movement, swing: of shoulder and that suppleness of whioh the glory had departed all return to the enthusiast He has a confidence in hia own ability which is sublime because it is justified by performance and that self control which chafes the ordinary adver sary.—Henry E. Howland in Scribner's. How She Caught Him. Mr. Noin tentions (carlessly) — Aw, how would you like to marry a man who had only $10 a weefc? Miss Passe (eagerly)—Oh, George, this is so sudden, but I think we can worry along if pa !*Hs us live here with, him.—Brooklyn Eagle. BICKLE & HAMRICK mmm pablor Noß.ll AND 13 W. FREDERICK STREET, NEXT TO JESSER'B We keep constantly on hand «_e finest stock of goods ln our line ever seen ln the city of Staunton. All the latest styles and novelties. Calls attended day and night. FUNERAL OUTFITTED In every detail and under careful personal at tentlon .„ a.. BICKLE * HAMRICK aujs 4-tf N os. and W.Frederick St. ** h -_—_——_—__—___—_________^^» CHURCH DIRECTORY. First Presbyterian Church, on Frederick Si between New aud Market streets, services Ha. m. and Bp. m. Pastor, Rev. A. M. Fraser Second Presbyterian church corner Freder ick and Lewis streets. Services at 11 a. ni and 8. Pastor, Rev. Wm. Cumming. Emmanuel Episcopal Church, worship at T. 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 11 a. m., and Bp. m. Rector, Rev. W. Q. Hul- UheD 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, cornei 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 August* street, Mass at 7 and 10.30 a. m. Vespers and benediction of Most Blessed Sacrament *t p. m. Pastor, Rev. Father McVerry. Young Men's Christian Association, corner Main and Water streets. Services at 4 p. m. Sunda . DIRETORY OF LODGES. MASONIC LODGE. Staunton Lodge No. 13, A. F. and A. M., meets every second and last Friday night ln eacl» month, in Masonic Temple, Main street. Jas M. Llckliter.W. M; B. A. Eskridge, Secy. UNION ROYAL ARCH CHAPTER. No. 3, meets third Friday ln every month, lv Masonic lemple, on Main street. W. W. Mc Gnffln, High Priest: A. A. Eskridge, Secy. ODD FELLOWS' LODGER Staunton Lodge, No. 45,1. O. O. F. meets cv cry Thursday night in Odd Fellows' HaU, ovel Wayt's drug store, on Main street. John f! FretweU Noble Grand: C. A. Crafton, Sec' KNIGHTS OF HONOB ODGE. Staunton Lodge. No. 750, of Honor meets every flrst __3 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. O. T., meets every Friday night In their lodge room over Wayt's drug store on Mam street. A. S. Woodhouse, Chief Templar F. B. Kennedy, Secy. DISTRICT LODGE. No. a?, I. o. G. T., meets every three months -is&cia^ry 0 - °- *' 8 - H - ■ I J I1 "— ROYAL ARCANUM. Augusta Council, No. 490, Royal Arcanum meets every second and fourth Tuesday in the month, at Pythian HaU, Main street. W. w. Robertson, Regent; Jos. B. Woodward, Sec-" retary. SONS OF TEMPERANCE Charity Division, M. A., Sons of Temperance meets every Monday night at Odd Fellows all. W. A. Kapp, Worthy Patriarch: John B. Coffelt, Secy. UNIFORMED BANK, KNiGHTS OF PYTHIAS. E. B. Stuart Division, No. 10, meets second and fourth Mondays each montn at Pythian HaU. Sir Knight Captain, F. B. Berkley; H Knight 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; Aloes Keeper of Records and Seal. KNIGHT TEMPLARS. Staunton Commandery, No. 8, Knights Tem plar, meets first Friday night In every month ln Masonic Temple, on Main street. W. B. McChesney, Eminent Commander; A. A. E t rldge, Recorder. ONEIDA TRIBE, NO. 88,1. O. R. M., Meets in their wigwam, ln Valz Build ing every Wednesday at 7th run 30th breath setting of the sun. S. S. Peterson, sacher- James W. Blackburn, chief of records, i visiting brothers welcome. AMERICAN LEGION OF HONOR. Valley Council No. 736 meets on the first and third Mondays In each mouth. Commando- A. S. Woodhouse; secretary. Dr. J. M. Hangp collector, Isaac C. Morton, Jr. CATHOLIC HIBERNIAN BENIFICAIj SOCIETY." Meets flrst Sunday in every month ln the i hall on the church lot. M. T. B presi dent; J. J. Kilgalen, flrst vice-president; J. J Murphy, second vice-president; D.J. O'Connell recording secretary. "STONEWALL" BRIGADE BAND. Band meets every Monday and Thursday orchestra, every Wednesday, at 8 p. m., ln City Hall. Mr. J. M. Brereton, director, J. m. Armentrout, president, and C. Harry Halnes, secretary. CENTRAL PROHIBITION CLUB. Met t on Thursday night of each week, |ln the ub room, 119 East Main street. Jas .W. Bod \ y, Acting President; Preston. A. Ross, Secre ary CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. Monthly meetings. Fourth Tuesday ln the month at 7:30 o'clock. Room ln City Hall build tag Isaac Witz,presld t; J.C.Shields, secre ary.