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% tmmtott % pectotor, RICHABD Zt'valA.TT.ZrSV'i Editor oxuSl UProprletox. TERMS, 52.00 A YEAR. ;-y 1 c mittances should be made bycheck raft, postal order, or registered letter. PROFI*.! SIONAI CARTER BRAXTON, ATTORN E V- AT-LAW, No. 23 S, Augusta St. j Special attention given to collections. CS. W. BARNES, ATTORNEY AT-LAW, No.[4 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. Offlce No. 4 Lawyers' Row, ln rear of Court house. i DR. D. A. BUCHER DENTIST. Offlce in Crowle Building, Room 25, 3rd floor Offlce 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 6 Lawyers' Row, oct 17-tf JM. QUARLES, . _ . ATTORN EP-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 KOTARY PUBLIC. J T.S. A. OLASGOW, •} ATTOIIVF.V AT-LAW. R ..... No. 23 s. Aususta street, Skhinei ildlng. STAUNTON. VA. aug 10-tf 5 I *, Dk. h. m. Patterson, staunton, va. ■ Offers his professional services to tbe citi <ens of Staunton. Offlce No. 121 East Mtain I -treet. . j T H. CROSIER, t) . ATTOHNE VAT-LAW. Offlce on Courthouse square, i** 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 - 1 O E. R. NELSON, Attorney-at-Law asd Commissioner n Chancery. OFFICE No. 10 LAWy F.RS' ROW, 2 Jan 4-tf STAUNTON, VA. j ! 6 A C. BRAXTON ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR. 9 OFFICE.—CrowIe Building opposite Y. M. ■ C. A. j 2 Special attention given to corporation and i fi real-estate law. Having closed up all outside business, which I for a year or two interrupted my regular law- | 5 practice, lam now enabled to, and shall, from g ithis time, give my undivided time and axclu- : 1 sive attention to the law; and to such persons g as my entrust me with their litigation, I prom- : 1 Ise my best efforts and such ability as I may possess. Lan 18-tf ——— a 1805. The Sun! 1895 ■ Baltimore, Md. The Paper or the People. For the People and with the People. Honest in Motive. , Fearless in Expression. t Sound in Principle. ■ Unswerving in Its Allegiance to Right Theories and i Right Practices. J The Sun Publishes All the News All the c Time, but it does not allow its columns to be I degraded by unclean, immoral or purely sen- , satlonal matter. t Editorially, The Sun is the Consistent h ANr unchanging champion and defender of J popular rights and interests against politi- *j cal machines and monopolies of every charac ter. Independent in all things, extreme in j none. It is for good laws, good government ' c and good order. c By mail Fifty Cents a month. Six Dollars a J year. c c I The Baltimore Weekly Sun. 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 hy writers of prac tical experience, who know what farming -ue-siis «nd what farmers want in an agrieul iai.ii journal. It contains rcguiai reports of tne work of the agricultural experiment -.latiuns throughout tne country, of the pro ceedings of tanners' cluos and institutes, and the discussion of new methods and ideas in " .allure. Its Market Reports, Poultry '* . 'aiUV'ent and \ eteriuary column are par ...iily valuable to coun, y rcders. Every Issue contains Stories, Poems, Household s >i, Puzzle Columns, a variety of interesting 1 instructive selected matter and other 1 ea ; nes, which make it a welcome visitor in city . and country homes alike. 1 one dollar a year. Inducements to getters- ' u,i of clubs for the Weekly Sun. lioth the £ Daily and Weekly Sun mailed free of postage in the United States, Canada and Mexico. ' Payments invariably in advance. Address £ A. S. Abell Company, Publishers and Proprietors. Baltimore, Md. dec 20. Wliiatis •«*fisf.-»AA*V%^Xas**iJ^s*s^^lvVN*^ Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher's prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years' use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria is the Children's Panacea —the Mother's Friend. Castoria. Castoria. "Castoria is so well adapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, I reoommend it as superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, known to me." H. A. Aac-arai, m. D., Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes dl* 111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. gestion, Without injurious medication. "Hieuse of 'Castoria' is so universal and "— 'its merits so well known that it seems a work « F(Jr mmm , haTe recommended of -supererogation to endorse it. Few are the your . cstoria,' and shall always oontmue to totelligent families who do not keep Castoria do „, „it tavariabl producC! , boneflcia , within easy reach." results." Carlos Mahtyn, D. D., Edwd,- F. Pakoee, M. D., New York City. 125 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City. Thk Cexttads Company, 77 Murray Street, New York City •SmmmmmwmmmmmmvmwaaaamaammmmmmmammmammmmKsmmw*. i 1 HUB 111 I stannton Mil -Spectator. VOL. 72. Is Life Worth Living? That depends upon the Liver. If the Liver is inactive tho whole sys tem is out of order—the breath -is bad, digestion poor, head dull or aching, energy and hopefulness gone, the spirit is de pressed, a heavy weight exists after eating, with general despondency and the blues. The Liver is the housekeeper of the health; and a harmless, simple remedy that acts like Nature, does not constipate afterwards or require constant taking, does not interfere with business or pleasure dur inr its use, makes Sim mons Liver Regulator a medical perfection. I have tested its virtues personally, an< know tii.it for Dyspepsia, Biliousness and Throbbing Headache, it is tho best inedi* cine the world ever saw. Have tried fort} other remedies before Simmons Livet Regulator, and none of tbem gave more than temporary relief, but the Regulator not or; ly relieved brtcnred. V. ■' "r.s Macon. Ga. nov 28-lvr Hoars for -unva! and Closing of Mails at Stann ton Postofflee. tHrtfVF. Hi c. ANl> O. KAILKOAI*. 5 a. 111. from north, south, east and >. est. 9.57 a. ra. from west. 2.40 p. ni. from Richmond and intermediate points. 7.05 p. m. from north, east and seuth. BY B. AND O. 7.22 a. m. from Lexington and intermediate points. 1.50 p. m. from the north. 5..09 p. m. from the north. Harper's Ferry and intermediate points. STAR ROUTES. 7 a. ni. from Plunkettsville, dally except Sun day. 10 a. ni. from Mt. Meridian, daily except Sun day. sp. m. from Middlebrook, daily except Sun day. 5.30 p. ni. from Monterey, dally excel'.t Sunday, 10.30 a m. from Sanders ville. CLOSE. FOR B. AND O. 5.30 a. m. tor Lexington, 6.30 a. m, Harper's Ferry and points north. 2.15 a. m. for Harrisonburg, Woodstock and points north. 1.10 p. m. for Lexington and intermediate points. 6.00 p. m. for Lexington and intermediate points. for c. and o. 9.15 a. m. and 2,15 p. m. for north, east, south' H.OO p. m. for east, north, south and west. 2.15 p. m. for Clifton Forge and intermediate points. fi.ls p. m. for the west. STAR ROUTES—DAILY EXCEPT 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 daily, STAUNTON OFFICE Opens 7a. m., closes 7 p. m. Money order and registry business opens at 8 a. m., closes 6 p.. m W. 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 bouse. They don't protect. It is as unsafe to trust to them as to a lightning rod without a ground con nection. Tbat is the kind an inventor is like ly to get when he drans up his own specifica tions, or trusts the work to an irresponsible attorney. It is not the kind dealt in by the Press Claims Company. Do you want to know what the Press Claims Company is V It is a syndicate of hundreds of the leading papers of the United States, or ganized to protect those of the subscribers 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. csnducting interferences, prosecuting rejected cases, registering trade-marks and copyrights, rendering opinions as to scope aud validity of patents, securing patents abroad, prosecuting and defending infringement suits, etc. It charges nothing for Information, and very moderate tees for services. Addre-s, PRESS CLAIMS COMPANY, No. 818 F St., N. W., Washington, D. C. JOHN WEDDKRBURN, oct 17-tf General Manager. NOTICE. I want every man and woman in the United States interested in the Opium and Whisky habits to have one of my books on these dis eases. Address B. M. Waolley, Atlanta, Ga. Box 382, and one will be - ent yon free. TO MY FRIENDS Am the PnMic Generally. I have rented the stable on Water street known as the Club stable, and am prepared, at 1113' Sale and Feed Stable, to board horses hy the mouth, week or day, at reasons!), prices; also to furnish saddle and driving horses, double and single. 1 can furnish you a nice turn-out—Surry, Buggies. Buck Boards, etc., all in style, accommodated at moderate prices. Parties warting first-class turnouts can be Fine horses always kept for sale. Hop'ng to receive a share of your patronage and yuaranteeiny satisfaction, I am Respectfully, mar 13-tf R. A. CLEMMER. BOHEMIAN UPS AND DOWNS. " 'Way up in a garret high Just a few feet from the sky Dwell I in Bohemia. What cave I for aught below? There have I nor friend nor foe; Pity I the struggling throng While I livo my life of song Up here in Bohemia. 'Tween my teeth my brier root— Best of friends, since always mute, Rare thing in Bohemia. Upward as the thick smoke curls Whafrcari-I for simp'ring girls? Love iti weak; my pipe is strong. Why for love, then, b» the song Sung here in Bohemia? Oft my little songs fall flat. Hungry? What caro I for that, Fasting in Bohemia? Put my only coat in pawn, Live on that and still sing on. Puff my pipe and think I've dined— Barmecidal feasts I lind Often in Bohemia. Haply, then, my rhyuielets take With a check my fast to break. Feast we in Bohemia Round the corner of the block, Sign, o'erhead a crowing cock, Mug of beer and sandwich lino, What care we how nabobs dine, Feasting in Bohemia? Friends have I some three or four— Quite enough, for who has more. In or out Bohemia? With them joy is always young; Grief is but a song that's sung. Live we, laugh we debonair. Skies aro bright and winds are fair Always in Bohemia. —J. E. Campbell in Kate Field's Washington. THE DOOMED SKATER. We had cast our lot, my twin brother and myself, in the roughest township of upper Canada. Twenty years are in their graves since then—2o years rung out and rung in by the clang of the ' woodman's ax—and still that township \ lies in the heart of its primeval forest. * Clotted woods overhang the solitary vil- : lage, composed of a few log huts, night ly drenched as with a death sweat i from the malaria of the swamp. But we ; came, young and impressionable, from the old country on a venturous quest . after fortune, and the disheveled wil derness of thicket had its charms for us. A river reft tho huge tangle of the woods with its dark, sluggish waters, which crept and oozed in among decay ing trees on either side. Banks there were none, and the bleached skeletons of the rotten trees alone marked off the channel of the river from the dark fen, fetid with myriad impurities. Such was the aspect of the melancholy Scugog. Our village was by no means a large one. The scattered huts which made it up had been knocked together by a sprinkling of hardy pioneers on a soli tary bluff which repelled the river from its base and gave the fearless settlers some ground of vantage over the sur rounding swamp. There was not, how ever, much cleared ground—nay, very little. Everywhere we were hemmed in by battalion after battalion of monoto nous trees. As for our fellow settlers, we found them of a piece with the country —rough and hardy, as they had need to be who 20 years ago colonized the Scugog. We were twins, Jack and I, but other wise unlike. He was a fine fellow. I acknowledged his supremacy and re joiced in his bold, free spirits. From his childhood he had been the most im pulsive creature that ever pointed a moral for headlong youth. Ever in scrapes and difficulties, but never to his dishonor, Jack fought one-half his ac quaintances into loving him, which the rest did of their own free will, and my heart still warms involuntarily toward the wild, impulsive boy, with his head strong soul all agog for mischief. I confess I was somewhat dismayed by the aspect of our new country. Fresh from the sunny lanes of Kent and the loved circle at home, could it be other wise? But as for Jack, he was in rap tures with everything that disquieted me. Nothing was move charmingly ro mantic than our hut on the bluff and no river could equal the brown, melan- ; choly Scugog. Wo did not settle down to the regula tion life of the settlor all at once. We determined to sip the nectar of life on the Scugog, if indeed there was any of that ambrosial draft to be drained in the township. The fascination of the swift canoe kept us almost constantly on the dark, mysterious river, and, in truth, there was scarcely any other out let from our dwelling save on its wa ters. By day we fished, and we shot from our frail skiffs, and by night,when the moon was up, wo would paddle ' them in her silvery wake. I have said that a few rough settlers formed our society on the Scugog. Among them were some half breeds—a species of degenerate Indian—who had sunk from the dignity of forest life to the servitude and buffeting of the white j settlers. They were lazy, good for noth | ing fellows, except in the matter of fishing or shooting, wherein they were proficients. We found them useful in giving instruction in the canoe life of our river home. I preferred, for my own part, to go pretty much by myself on our water excursions. Jack, however, had no such idea of placid enjoyment, and speedily leaving me to my aquatic reveries ho hired a hang dog looking scoundrel named Olier to assist him in the management of his canoe. lam no great disciple of Lavater, but I never liked that half breed. All these dregs of Indian nobility are sallow, blear eyed creatures, with a world of cunning, but this fellow was chief of them all for ev ery repulsive trait. Of course Jack ridi culed my sentiments about his new servitor. He was a match for half a dozen —20 fellows liko Olier, he said, and it was all right, and I was not to bother my head about him. It was getting late in the fall. The Indian summer—that beautiful dream of loveliness—had restored to v.s in evanescent beauty the glories of a Cana dian autumn. The forests were as gay with color as a herald's tabard, and the air was yet balmy with the lingering 'sweetness of summer. One exquisite evening, born of one of these lovely days, I was listlessly smoking as I lay on tho top of the bluff, vacantly sketch ing home landscapes in the dark Scugog rolling beneath. A canoe shot round the bend of tho river below the village. It was paddled by a solitary figure, who turned out to be Jack. I knew he had gone down the Scugog to fish along with Olier, but now no half breed squatted in tho opposite end of the canoe. A vague dread seized upon me as Jack, ranning his little bark sheer up the bank, shoul dered his paddle and marched up to me. "How now, Jack? What have you done with your charming companion?" I inquired, disguising my conjectural fear. "Gad! I don't know," replied my | brother, sitting down oriental fashion beside ma "Not know?" '' Not a bit," was his answer. '' How should I bo acquainted with all the ins and outs of that Rosamond's bower?" STAUNTON, VA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 12, 1895. iiere be indicated as mucu lorest witn his arms as would have made a few 1 thousands of the bower in question. "Oh, I perceive. He's gone tracking ' deer or something of that sort," said I, immensely relieved by Jack's manner. There was a slight pause. My fears re turned. I felt there was something wrong. "Well," said Jack, "I'll tell you. 1 don't see why there need be any secret about it. You were quite right about that Olier, you were. He's a good for nothing fellow and coolly refused this afternoon to paddle me when I wanted to go down the river a bit farther than usual.'' "And you:" "I ran the canoe upon a yard of bank —whether an island or not I cannot tell —gave tho insolent rascal a good bas tinado with the paddle aud set him ashore.'' "Good heavens 1" I exclaimed, with horror. "Don't you know, Jack —haven't you sense enough to understand —that these Indian fellows are vindictive to the last degree; that they will never forget or forgive a blow?" "Pooh!" said he, getting up quite merrily and marching homeward, say ing over his shoulder: "Oh, don't you 1 bother yourself! Olier will be down on his marrow bones tomorrow, see if he isn't. Besides, lowehimhalf a dollar." Tomorrow came, unfruitful with the half breed's submission. The story got j abroad among the huts, and the old set : tiers, who knew their man, shook their heads ominously and boded no good to imy impulsive brother. However, two , days passed harmlessly, during which ] , T ack and I fished and shot together. | Olier had not reappeared, and I began ito breathe more freely. Doubtless he j had left the district. He was an unset : tied fellow, at any rate, and had no property or tie in the village to tempt ! his stay. Twenty miles below the village the ! dark Scugog whitens into rapids and is ; hurled with gigantic power over a lofty i precipice. I had often wished to see the ; falls, but it had been hitherto impossi ; ble to accomplish the distance by my j single arm. At last my wish was to be j gratified. A shooting party was made j up by some of the villagers, and at my urgent request I was included. The ar rangement was to spend a night at the falls, camping out on the bank, and re turn the following day. Instead of ca noes we were to sail down in a large flat bottomed boat, termed in Canadian parlance a scow. Strange to say, Jack did not care about going, saying that he would enjoy himself more in his own canoe, and as we were already crowded for room we did not press him to change bis resolution. Our expedition had littlo in it note worthy. The river for over 20 miles' sail remained the same monotonous, melancholy Scugog, never varying for the space of a hand. Not a vestige of clearance was there between our village and the falls, not a glimpse of bank. The trees lined the waters like a wall, and save the wild game no one ever tried to force a way through their close knit ranks, woofed at the base by a table of unwholesome verdure. This aspect I had stern reason for remembering. Tlie only bright thing was the patch of cloudless blue sky seen at tho extremity of this long reach of wood and water. Over all brooded the intentest silence. No bird trilled us a single song; all was still save for the lugubrious wood pecker, which, perched on a rotting tree, hammered its hollow sides with its beak. Tap, tap, tap 1 It was a most unearthly sound. We had seen the stupendous falls in their lonely majesty and were steering homeward in enr scow. As we neared the village again, distant only some five or six miles, the sun was sinking behind the tree horizon. A slight blue haze bathed the long reaches of the river with ineffable softness and be.iaty. Wo voy aged on a liquid field of cloth of gold. But ever BXKLagain, laarring my intense perception of its loveliness, came the ghastly tap, tap, tap of the woodpecker. I could not resist a chilly sensation of horror as I listened to the measured ca dence echoing through the solitude. It sounded like a coffin maker hammering at his dismal task. A relief suggested itself. Some of my companions were French Canadians and the evening be fore had cheered our bivouac with some gay refrains of sunny France. I asked them for a stave, but I said nothing about the woodpecker, whose note I wished them to drown. A strong chorus soon vanquished the bird of ill omen and rang up the vaulted river. I recol lect tho strain well. It was a favorite Voyagers' ditty, sung to the dash of the tar. Suddenly the song lulled, and again I shuddered as I heard the reverberating : tap, tap of the ominous bird aloft on a spectral fir. My companions had ceased ' rowing, too, and called my attention to i a canoe which was floating down the river a few yards ahead of us. They thought it was a break loose and stood I by to strike a boat hook into it, with : the prospect of a reward from the owner ! up at the village. It soon dropped down 1 to us and came, like the note of that ghostly woodpecker, tapping against onr skiff. There was a stifled cry of horror from the settler at the bow, and as we crowded forward to see what was the matter another cried ont the awful tale of blood, "Hero, young fellow, see your brother—stalked by Olier as sure's there's death in a rifle bullet!" It was an awful end! My poor broth er lay bent over his idle paddle in the canoe, weltering in his heart's blood. An avenging bullet had passed through his heart. Stalked by Olier! Fiendish Indian, that was thy work, and my brother's blood rested on thy head! I shall not now detail the agonies of that Indian summer. Through all my grief ran the thought of an exterminating vengeance. Vengeance? Nay, scant jus tice. I sought what has been law since the world began—blood for blood. It was vain in those early times of a judi cial system in Canada to seek for a rig orous pursuit from the dispensers of legal justice. The criminal executive might be willing, but their arm was weak. Retribution in the trackless wild of wood and water where I dwelt could proceed only from my own steady pur pose and solitary endeavor. I could depend but for small aid on the settlers. Some of them indeed cursed the foul murder in no stinted speech but others again imputed little crime t* the blood stained redskin and even went so far as to justify his sneaking code of vengeance. Olier had left the district, but a certain instinct told mc he would ere long come back again. Likely enough he would suppose I could not long re main in a place to which such hateful j memories clung, and then he might i safely venture back. I wnited my time. i Safe he was in the tangled thicket, but to the end I knew that no covert under heaven would preserve him harmless ; from my wrath. Winter set in, hard and white and cold. The river Scusrotr was a level road of ice. Tne trees were chokea up wiui snow, and on each side of the ice bound river the forests towered like massive cliffs of chalky rock. No path could now be forced into the recesses of the forest below our village. Scarcely had winter settled down for his undisturbed reign when I heard whisperings that the villain half breed was again hovering on the outskirts of the settlement. It was told me that he was living in a kind of wigwam above the Village, and also that he had more than once come to the very dwellings of the settlers by night to visit his friends and nbtain various articles for his camp. I knew it would be vain to attempt to track him to his wigwam or, at all events, to surprise him. His woodcraft was much too deep to admit of such a possibility. But a strange, wild joy trembled through my being when I heard he came by night to the village. A terrible scheme of ven geance swept across my soul, and I felt, no matter how fiendish the spirit, that the doom of the half breed was fixed, and ! that I was to be his unrelenting execu ! tioner. Night after night I lay concealed at [ the bluff awaiting the murderer. I was armed with pistols and wore skates. Skating was an amusement which I had excelled in when a schoolboy, and facil ity in the art was of the last importance to my scheme of retribution. At length he came. It was an exquisite night. The white expanse around sparkled in the sheen of a young Canadian moon which sailed calmly through a cloudless sky. I could have shot the villain as he skated by me within 50 yards, but I would not risk the chance, and besides my vengeance cried for a sterner fate than death by the pistol. No sooner was he past my hiding place, than with a shout of exultation, I started on his track. Olier swerved a moment to see who his pursuer was, then, quick as lightning, tried to double up the river again. But I had anticipated this, and with a cocked pistol in either hand I barred his passage. With a curse he turned and sped swiftly down the ice. And now the race for life began. Mile after mile we swept along in si lence. An awful, portentous silence it was, through which nothing broke save the hollow boom of the swift steel cut ting its way over the imprisoned river. The moon lit me nobly to my vengeance. He could not escape me, for I found with savage glee that I was a match for the swift footed Indian. Olier soon be came aware of this, too, for now and again he would skate close to the woods looking in vain for an aperture. But no; there was but one outlet from this walled in river, and that was over the falls! Faster and faster yet we skated to ward the cataract. It could not be far off. I pictured to myself what Olier's thoughts might be. Did he know whith er he was hastening, or had that awful light yet to flash on his guilty mind? The half breed made answer to my thought. I saw him in tho pale shim mer start convulsively and throw his arms in the air. But he dared not stop, and on he darted again with a yell of despair, which echoed weirdlike up the frozen channel. Another sound came to my ear, and I knew what had caused that cry of agony to burst from Olier; it was the dull thunder of the falls! We were nearing them fast. Still the walls of snow shut in my victim, and every moment lessened his frail hopes of escape. One chance was left him—to distance mo and hide somewhere in the snow r from my scrutiny. Vain hope; the Wings of tho bird could scarce have laved him! Hoarser and louder grew the noise of Jhe waters. If I thanked the Almighty in frantic prayer that tho murderer was delivered into my hand, I humbly trust that it is forgiven me now. From tho time I had first started on Olier's track we had maintained exactly tho same distance between us—perhaps about 100 ! or 150 yards. I still grasped my loaded ! pistols ready for any stratagem on the part of tho murderer. And now the crash of the falls came loud and ominous on the ear. Another five minutes would decide the hunt. Suddenly Olier turned and stood at bay. He was not armed. I had felt certain of that all along, for otherwise he would I have measured strength with mo before. j Without abating my pace, I skated down npon him, holding a leveled pistol in each hand. Still my purpose was as fixed as ever only to shoot the villain as a last resource. When I was within 20 yards of him, the coward faltered and again turned swiftly down the river. With a yelling laugh I pursued him, pressing still more hotly on his track. Deafening was the roar of the cata- I ract. High into the pale sky ascended the mist of its spray, tlrrough which the splintered lines of the moonlight darted in rainbow tinted beauty. I could see directly in front the jagged line of the ice where it was broken by the rapids immediately above the cataract, and be yond I could trace tho dark volume of the Scugog as it emerged from its prison of snow and ice. For an instant the half breed turned his face toward me as ' I pressed, with concentrated hate, on his footsteps. Never shall I forget the horrible despair that distorted the vil lain's features. It was a mercy that the i sullen roar of the falls drowned his curses—l knew he was shrieking curses on me—for they would have haunted me in after years. With the courage which is begotten of the darkest despair, he dashed on to i the brink of the rapids, and the next moment I was alone on the ice! I gazed with stern joy on the dark flood which had seized in its resistless hands the shedder of blood and was hurrying him over the falls. For a moment I thought I could perceive the murderer struggling in the eddies, but the illusion, if it was one, could live only for an instant. The cataract was within pistol shot, and as I turned back over the dreary wilderness of ice and snow I knew that the doom of the guilty skater had been fulfilled. —Chambers' Journal. A Ten Inch Vermiform Appendix. The vermiform appendix, or cul do sac, the death trap attached to the largo intestines in the human and allied spe cies, and which of late has received much attention, has been believed by some to be an organ just developing. It has even been argued that the babies of three or four centuries hence will all have to be operated on for tho purpose of removing that useless appendage. Re tent developments, however, in dissect Ing a gorilla, proved that the animal's ippondix vcrmiformis was 10 inches in length, whereas in the human being it seldom exceeds 3 inches. From this (t is argued that the appendix is really breeding out, and that the future man, Instead of having that organ developed to the size of a ten pound sugar sack, will really have none at all.—St. Louis BsTs*s**ssVss*Ud I j DAKOTA'S SHELL MOUNDS. 1 ! i ' Twill Hills oo the Prairies Made Up of Oynter Shells. 3 I Iv the south central portion of North 1 j Dakota lies a butte, or mountain, which j 1 , is a wonderful relic of an ancient era 3 i when the ocean covered the state. It is 1 j really two Imttes, 200 or more feet in ' j height, which are composed of little else ; than oyster shells. They are in the ex- ' treme southwestern part of Logan coun . ! ty, ahont 75 miles southwest of this city, j and probably 35 miles east of the Mis , i couri river. The base of the butte, which at a height of about 100 feet is divided aud forms two peaks, each about 100 feet high, is about three-quarters of a mile in length, oblong in shape and lies extended in a northeastern and south western direction. The Bides are precip- ; itous, except at the southern extremity, where it is pa lible to clrivo part way t i np ' ■ The butte lies in a region almost en- i I tirely settled by Russian.-;, and none, so I far as could be learned, has even visit . Ed it or even given it a name. It is a I conspicuous landmark, visible for miles ! in every direction, as it towers above '. the surrounding rolling prairie and the valley of the Beaver—a tributary of the Missouri river—near which it is located. Very little vegetation is found on the butte besides prickly pear and in favored spots bunches of grass. The northern end of the butte, which'has borne the brunt of wind and rain for numberless cen turies, is scarred and eaten away and presents almost vertical walls to the I northwest winds. Here and there on its face are huge blocks of the cemented ! shells, which form a kind of rock, which from a distance appears ready to fall " outward and downward with a crash. The jutting crags and rocks make a wild ' and picturesque sight. The southern peak, which can only be , surmounted after a stiff climb, is nearly - flat on top, oval in contour, and nothing is visible on the surface but oyster shells, some of them whole, as though just opened of their contents, some crum bling to dust, as thongh extremely old, while on every hand are broken shells of ' all sizes. An excavation on the surface reveals naught but more shells and a slight intermixture of gravel. The other peak is somewhat different , in character and contour, though this, like the other, is composed of nothing but shells. It is rougher, and the shells I seem to have been united into a kind of rock which defies the wind and weather, j This is separated from the butte by a j huge block 10 or 12 feet square and is j ' almost as true a cube in general outline j as though the hammer and wedge of the ] stonecutter had fashioned it. Here and j there, projecting from the sides, are at j intervals large shells which countless frosts have failed to loosen. A small , cave has been discovered in tbe side of i this peak. Shells form its roof, its sides ', and its floor. The butte is isolated, with j no hills approaching it in height to be seen in any direction for miles.—James- i town (N. D.) Letter in Minneapolis * Journal. The Sphere of Silence. There are things too low to be spoken of, which indeed become low by being spoken of. The appetites are of this kind. They were meant to be the beginnings of action rather than the end of speech, and under the dropping of words they are as wholesome food analyzed into con stituent poisons. God lights that fire, and does not want our breath to blow it, or the fuel of our thought to feed it. The inferior impulses in man are glorified by being placed at the natural disposal of higher sentiments. They are submitted to the transforming power of generous aspiration aud great ideas. Wielded by these, they are far above tho level of I sense, and are not only controlled by conscience, but dignified by the light of bea-nty, and ennobled by tbe allirj. ( affection. Their jnst action is secured far less by repressive discipline against them than by nourishing tbe strength of ! the humanities that a c them, by keep ing them wholly inattentive to them selves, by breaking every mirror in which their own face may be beheld. Purity of mind is forfeited less by exceeding rules of moderation than by I needing them, by intuition of the inferi or pleasures as such. There might be less of moral evil in the rude banquet of heroic times, marked perhaps by ex cess, but warmed by social enthusiasm, and idealized by lofty minstrelsy, than in many a meal of the prudent dietician, setting a police over his sensations, and I weighing out the scruples of enjoyment for bis palate. Not rules of quantity, but habits of forgetfulness, constitute our emancipation from the animal na ture.—Dr. Martineau. Rapid Bridge Building. In the building of bridges the ques ! tion of speed is a very important one. When the bridge costs $1,000,000 or more, it becomes important to save in terest, and it is always important to re duce as much as possible the period dur , ing which the unfinished work is ex posed to danger from sudden floods, ice jams and other causes. Says a writer in Professor Shaler's "United States of America:" A remarkable instance of the speed with which the American bridge can be erected occurred in the case of the Cairo bridge of the Illinois Central railroad over the Ohio river. The two channel spans of that bridge are each more than 500 feet long. The trusses are 61 feet deep and stand 25 feet apart. Tho total weight of each span is a little more than 2,000,000 pounds. One of these spans was erected in six days. The falsework on which the span was built was then taken down; the piles were drawn and rcdriveu for the second span; the false work again erect ed on the piles, and tho second span built. The whole time used in erecting the two great spans and moving the false worka was one mouth and tlrree days, and this time included five days lost in waiting for the completion of certain mas; This is tho quickest time in bridge building of which there is any record. A Foreboding. "Mandy," said Farmer Corntossel, who had been thoughtfully gazing into the fire for a long time, "they's jes' one thing I want ye ter promise me." "Whut's that, Josiar?" "When ye git ter be a 'mancipated | woman 7 ' — "But, Josiar, I don't wanter be no 'mancipated woman." "Thot's all right. Ye never kin tell. I want ye ter promise thet when ye git ! ter be a 'mancipated woman an air 'lected to office thet ye won't go'ter tho hotel an register ez 'Honor'blo 'Mandy Corntossel an husband' '' —"Washiugton Star. "Ah," said the old printer, who had ; just come down to bo a waiter in a I cheap restaurant, '' this is liko old times Here I am distributing pi I"—Philadel- . - phia Record. POKER LIKE A WO3I AN THIS IS THE WAY A WRITER SIZES UP THE NATIONAL GAME. the Better You Think You Know Either the Greater Becomes the Mystery—Bat Both Are Fascinating—Tho Three Im portant Things In the Game. "Do you know anything about the game of poker?" I asked of a friend. "Just enough to stay out of it," said he. There is a curious unanimity of mod esty about poker, especially among those Who know something of its fascinations. I never saw an old poker player who i claimed to be familiar with the game. Poker is something like a woman—the 1 oger you Lnow her the less yon know ! her and understand her. That i 3 to say, j familiarity with poker, instead of breed ; ing contempt,inspires that respect which i Waits upon uncertainly anil attends the • Utknii.val.'li'. The best poker playcsare married men. The oftener a man is married the more modest he is about "sizing up" womankind. He loses con fidence in his own judgment of human nature. He becomes wary. He lies in wait, never thoroughly satisfied in his own mind as to what will turn up next —never absolutely certain whether over against him is ace high or a royal flush —"bluff" or "a dead, lead pipe cinch." I hope no lady—especially a married lady—will read this. It is no desire of mine to raise the ante on their possibili ties. This out of sincere regard for my sex. It is only the young and inexperienced who know all about women. It is only the fresh young amateur who knows all about poker. And, like the man who staggers up against a roulette wheel for the first time, this sort of daring not in frequently wins where riper experience and caution quit the loser. Everybody has heard of the innocent who steps up and plants $1 or so on the winning 00 and calls the turn on the last cards out of the box on the first deal—while the expert, with or without a system, is con tent with odd or even or plays the seven open and unostentatiously coppers the ace. So the same inexperienced player will sit down at poker and for a time baffle the wit of the keenest card sharp. His very ignorance of the rules of the j game protects him. Poker has been defined by a cynic as a , game at which one friend sits down to j rob another. For the man of wisdom not I a gambler will not rashly engage with j Btrangers or tempt fickle fortune with j professional players. He must therefore j confine his speculation to his known acquaintances aud friends. Notwith standing the apparent solidity of this definition, it is not very difficult to find men willing to be robbed, so they enjoy ; the opportunity of holding up tho other fellow. What is commonly known as the ! "gentleman's game" is usually made . up of amateur sports and a sly expert or two worked in to leaven the lump. Men who make a living by cards affect the "gentleman's game" about the hotels and clubrooms, the real gentlemen be ing their lambs for tho shearing. The professional game, strictly as such, is al most unknown. In these times of anti gambling laws every hotel in the city has become a gambling house, poker be ing the ruling game. Go throngh any down town hotel during the summer when doors are ajar and you will find scorets of games in full blast. There are three things of importance besides knowing the game—cards, cour age and judgment of human nature. The last is the greatest of all. Tho ability to read the human countenance —to cast the probable value of a flutter of an eye lid, to detect tho slightest tremor of a muscle, to accurately gaugo the intona tion of a voice—these are acquirements, aud to be able to do all of these with each and every new opponent would be perfection. Men are very different, and no two men ar poker can be measured by tbe same sianuiud, Li. to study man is the proper study of mankind, poker is the greatest school ever invented. Theoretically four aces beat any lesser hand held against them. As an interest ing fact, perfectly familiar to every lover of the game, no hand at all is necessarily winner, the outcome largely depending upon the nerve and judgment of the player. A pair of deuces and a royal flush of nerve have been known to work Wonders. There is where the fun comes in. You can count safely on nothing— except of course that the other fellow will "do" you if he gets an opening. Just keep your eyes on him. If you have an eye in the back part of your head, too, it will be of great assistance. Never presume on human honesty in a game of poker. It will save hard feel ings, if not money. The man who is the soul of integrity in ordinary business will turn you down in a horse trade and do you up at poker without a twinge of conscience. The essence of poker skill lies in deceit—and the more deceitful you are the more likely you will be to come out ahead. Women make good poker players, but never play any game with money in it with a woman. She can't help cheating, and when you catch her at it you can't punch her in the nose or kick her ont. When a man can draw one card, with fours in hand, with exactly the same impassive countenance or expression of diffidence he will wear in drawing to a bob tailed flush, he will have almost mastered the art of poker. There is bnt one higher step, and that is to be able to read such a face correctly. In poker checks or any other promises don't go. It is c. o. n.—cash on the naiL Nobody of experience of the game will trust anybody who plays it. That is an other beauty of the institution. You just shake off all moral obligations and meet every man on the dead level of a com mon humanity. A man's check or word of honor may go for thousands in Wall street and be no good at poker. Cash is a necessary rule of tho game. If you haven't cash and cash to spare, you'd better stay out of it. Better to stay ont Uiyhow.—New York Herald. A Clever Solicitor. Mr. Benjamin James was rt solicitor. He was a clever man, and ho was also a clever solicitor. When ho had a case id hand, he either lost it or else ho wosvit. Sometimes it was the one way and sometimes the other. But it was usually the former. As thero wero two possibilities to the conclusion of any action, so ho had twa forms of announcing the results to hia clients. If he was successful, ho wrote: Mr. J. B. Brown (Re Bro-,m v. Smith): Sir—-I am pleased to inf.,i*m yoa that I hays today T,-on this action. faithfully, liiixjAMiN James. If, on tho other hand, he lost the case, ho wrote: Mr. J. B. Smith (Eo Bmii.li v. Brown): Sir—l regret to inform yon that you hava today lv.it this .'icticn. Yours iaithTully, Benjamin James. —Judy. Staunton %vtdatvt. RATES OF ADVERriSIWC. Advertisements are Inserted at the rates of 12K cents per line, for the first, and IM cents for each subsequent Insertion. Local Notices are Inserted at the rate of SO cents per line for the flrst, and 10 cents -for each subsequent Insertion. Business Notices are inserted at the rata of l e l ntlSse t r«ob r . StaUa 8 CeDtS for eaoh «"* t*}*^mm**mm7 a be madeon a ' order • o bl ' uarle8 *, Announcements or Candidates for offlce, and all communications al or private character, will be charged for an advertisements. NO. 30. The Devil's Honse. In Ladyard, a small town in Connootl cnt, is a house built prior to 1710 which bears the title of the "Devil's House." A curse is supposed to rest upon it, and in proof it is pointed out that in tht present century more than 100 deaths have occurred in it, most of which wers violent or nioro than ordinarily pathetic. | The curse is supposed to have been pnl upon the place by a girl named Groan, who was ill treated there by a relative to secure her property.—Philadelphia Ledger. "What are you so much women about the future of the country for ?'' asked Mr. Smiggles. "Haven't you got enough to bother you right here at home?" "Yes, John," she answered, "but I thought that after 25 years of married I life it was about time for me to take my, turn at saving the country, while yonj did some of the speculating on whero the kindling and grocery money was coming from. "—Washington Star. BICKLE & HAMRICK UNDERTAKING PARLOR NOS. II AND 13 W. FREDERICK STREET, NEXT TO JESSER'S We keep constantly on hand *he 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 .„ ... BICKLE A HAMBICK aum 4-tf N os. and W.Frederick St. 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. Cummlng. 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. Main street, bs>- tween Lewis and Church streets. Services at U 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. Suvicesat II a. m. and 8 p. ni Pastor, Rev. W. J E. Cox. St. Francis Roman Catholic, North Augustl 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 . OIRETOBY OF LODGES. MASONIC LODGE. Staunton Ledge No. 1:5, A. F.amlA. M., meett every second and last Friday night in eacl* month n .Masonic Temple, Main street. .laf M. I.ickiiter.W. M; B. A. Eskridge, Secy. UNION HOVAL ARCH CHAPTER. No. 2, meets third Friday in every month, ln Masonic Temple, on Main street. W. W. Mc Guffln, High Priest: A. A. Eskiidge, Secy. ODD FKl.l.mvs* Uilick. Staunton Lodge. No. m\ I. o. O. F. meets cv cry Thursday atgM in Odd rertowß! Hall, ovei Wayt's drug store, on .Main street. John C Fretwell Noble Grand : C. A. Crafton. Sec' KNIGHTS OF HONOV ODGE. Staunton No. Tf.ii, Kr.ghts of Honor meets every flrst a~3 third Tuesday In each month, in Pythian Hall, Main street. W. L. Olivier. Dictator; W. A. Burnett, Becorder. MOUNTAIN CITY LODGE. No. lis, I. O. G. T., meets every Friday night ln their lodge room over Wayt's drug stdre on Main street. A. S. Woodhouse, -Chief Templar F. B. Kennedy, Secy. DISTRICT LODGE. No. 22,1. 0. G. T., meets every three months ROYAL ARCANUM. Augusta Council, No. 490, Royal Arcanum meets every second and fourth Tuesday ln the month, at Pythian Hall, Main street. W. W. Robertson, Regent: Jos. B. Woodward, Sec retary. SONS OF TEMPKRANCF Charity Division, M. A., Sons or Temperance meets every Monday night at Odd Fellows all. W. a. Rapp, Worthy Patriarch; John B. Coftelt, Secy. UNIFORMED RANK, KNiGHTS OF PYTHIAS. E. B. Stuart Division, No. 10, meets second and fourth Mondays each montn at Pythian Hall. Sir Knight Captain, F. B. Berkley; 8 Knight Recorder, S. H. Rosenbaum. KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. Valley Lodge, No. 18, K. of P., meets Monday night at Castle HaU, on West street, over Dr. Wayt's drug store. C. T. Ham mond, Chancellor Commander; Albes Keeper of Records and Seal. KNIGHT TEMPLARS. Staunton Commandery, No. 8, Knights Tem plar, meets flrst Friday night ln every month tn Masonic Temple, on Main street. W. B. McChesney, Eminent Commander; A. A. E k rldge, Recorder. ONEIDA TRIBE, NO. 88,1. O. R. M., Meets in their wigwam, ln Valz Building every Wednesday at 7th run TOth breath setting of tbe sun. s. s Peterson, sachet- James W Blackburn, unlet of records. 1 visiting brothers welcome. AMERICAN LEGION OF HONOR, Valley Council No. T-Si meets on the flrst an third Mondays in each menth. Commands* A. S. Woodhouse: secretary, Dr. J. M. Hum* collector, Isaac C. Morton, Jr. CATHOLIC HIBERNIAN BENIFICAI.. SOCTETY. Meets Irst Sunday ln every month in the i hall on .ne church lot. M. T. B prest dent J. J. Kllgalen. first vice-president: .1. J »lurphy. second vi*.,^n r p^iri P Tit; r*..i., **i\., '•eenrdln* tea "BTONBWAU," BBJGADE HAND. Hand nit*** -. and Thursday orchestra. avarj in City Hall. Mr. I. V. J. \. Arnn'iiti ; . harry Haines. •**.'•;■( * -■•• CENTIIAL PROHIBITION CLUB. Hm t on Thursday night of each week. :in the '..i< room, lis* East Main street. Jas .W. Bod l y. Acting President; Preston A. Ro3B, Secre a*"y CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. Monthly meetings, Fourth Tuesday ln the month at 7:30 o'clock. Room ln City Hall build lag Isaac Witz,presid t; J.C. Shields, secre •ry.