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THE HARTFORD HERALD.
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The mnttcrofy early advertisements ehanzed
COME, THE II Ell A LI OF A XOISV WOULD, THE XEU'S OF ALL XATIOXS LUMIiERIXG AT MY HACK."
HARTFORD, OHIO COUNTY, KY JULY 28, 1875.
quarterly free of charge. For further particu-
Jy. I'. Btnnrrr Jt Co., FaMuIicr.
a rojirnv or i:nitoii.
Thefollowinglines arcdcdicatcd to the
editor by a very special friend.
"Wcrecrcr to many blunders made?
What can the paper mean
By talking of the graceful brooks,
That gander o'er the green T
And here's a. t instead of r,
Which makes it tippling rill;
Well seek the (had, instead of shade,
And hell instead of bill.
They look so what? I recollect,
'Twas sweet and then 'twas kind,
And now to think, the stupid fool
For bland has printed blind.
Was ever such provoking work T
'Tis curious, by-the-byc,
How anything is rendered blind
By giving it an eye.
Ilast thou no tears? the t's lclt out,
Hast thou no ears, instead;
I hope that thou art dear, is put
1 hope that thou art dead.
Who ever saw in such a spaco
So many blunders crammed ?
Those gentle eyes bcdiinmcd, is spelt
Those gentle eyes bcdaninicd
The color of the rose, is nose;
Affection is affliction;
I wonder if the likeness holds
In fact as well as dictian?
Thou art a friedn the r is gone
Who ever would have deemed
That such a trifling thing could change,
A friend into a fiend?
Xhou art the same, is rendered laino
It really is too bad !
And here, because an i is out,
My lovely maid is mad ;
They drove her blind, by poking in
An eyea process new,
And now they've gouged it out again,
And made her crazy too.
Let's stop and recapitulate:
I've dammed her eyes, that's plain
I'rc told her she's a lunutie,
And blind, and deaf, and lame.
Was ever such a horrid hash
In poetry or prose ?
I've laid she was a fiend, and praised
The color of ner nose t
I wish I had that editor
About a half a minute,
I'd baag him to his leart.s content,
And with an h begin it;
I'd jam his body, eyes, and bones,
And spell it with a d.
And send him to that hill of his
lie spells it with an c."
THE EDITOR'S RESrON.SE.
DEDICATtD TO X CnlTICISIXU TKICND
We only wish that "special friend,"
About a half a minute,
Just had our editorial chair,
And snugly seated in it.
She'd soon relent and change her mind,
And quit it in disgust;
And say this long furore of hers
Was every word unjust-
The printer's path is strewn throughout
With thorns instead of roses;
And every step and turn he takes,
A horrid ghost discloses.
If ''special friend" would only lend
Some eomfort sweet and cheering,
To help us o'er life's rugged shore
We soon might cease from erring.
Till LAWYER'S SECRET .
Hy MISS 3r. r- IlItADDOV,
ACTHOr. OF "ACUOUA FLOVD," "LiDV ACDLF.V'S
SECRET,' "JOBS UABCnSIOXT g LF.UACV,'
"iTtCANOn'S VlCToKV," "LADY LISLE,"
"DABBELL SIABEIUU," ETC., ETC.
AFTER THE nOXEVMOOS.
Three months had elapsed since the
midnight Interview In Horace Margrave's
chambers three months and the Opera
House was opened for the season, and
three new tenors, and two 6opranos, and
a baseo-baritono had appeared under the
classic proscenium of Her Majesty's The-
atre; the novel of the season had been
circulated by Maudie; Rotten How was
gay with Amazonian equestrians and
Hate lifesuardsmen, with long amber
whiskers, as yet untrammelled by red
tape; moss roses were selling on the dusty
pavements of the West End otrcets; and
Covent Garden was all a bloom with ar
tistically arranged bouquets of rich tropi
oal flowers, gorgeous in color and delicious
in perfume, London, iu short, was in the
full flood-tide of the season, when Mr.
and Mrs. Hcnrv Dalton returned from
their honeymoon visit to the Cumberland
lake district, and took up their abode in
the small house In Hertford-street, fur
nished by Ellinor before her marriage
' filers has been a short courtship; all
the sweet uncertainties, the doubts, the
dreams, the fear6, the hopes which make
up the poetical prologue to a lovc-matcli
have been wanting in this marriage or
daincd by the will of her late uncle this
marriage, which is founded on esteem and
not on affection; this marriage, into which
she has entered on the generous impulse
of an impetuous nature that has never
learned to repress emotion.
Is she happy? Can this cold esteem,
this calm respect which she feels for the
man chosen for her by another, satisfy the
ardent heart of the romantic girl?
Shchas been already married sis weeks,
and flic has not seen Horace Margrave,
the only friend she has in England, ex
cept, of course, her husband, since her
wedding day. Nut since that sunny May
morning on which he took her icy hand
in his and gave her, na her guardiau ami
ic representative of her dead father, into
cr husband's arms. She remembered
tat on that day when his hand touched
ers it was as cold and powerless as her
own, anil mat Ms listless lace was even
paler than usual under the spring sunshine
streaming in at the church windows; but
n spile of this, he had done the honors of
the breakfast tabic, toasted the bride ami
the bridegroom, complimented the brides
maids, and fascinated everybody, with
II the finished grace and marvellous case
of the all-accomplished Horace Margrave
And if Ellinor had ever thought that she
ad a right, for auld lang sync, for her
cad father's sake, or for her own lovely
face, to be anything more or dearer to
Mr. Margrave than the most indifferent
of his clients; that thought was dispelled
y the gentlemanly sang froid of his adieu,
as the four pawing bays started off on the
first stage to Windermere.
It is the end of June, and she is seated
in the small drawing-room, awaiting the
advent of morning visitors. They have
beeu a week in town, and Horace Mar-
rave has not called upon them. She has
a wcarv air this morning, and she seems
to seek in vain for something to occupy
icr. Now she strolls to the open piano,
and plays a few chords, or a brilliant run,
or softly touches the notes of some pensive
air, and sings sonic Italian words; now
she takes up an uncut novel from the
table, and reads a page or two here and
there, wherever the book opens; she
walks to an cmbroidery-framc, and takes
great deal of trouble in selecting and com
pariug wools, and threading needles, but
when this is accomplished, she does not
lo three stitches; then she loiters listless
ly about the room, looking at the pic
tures, chiefly valuable engravings, which
adorn the pale silver-gray walls; but at
last she is so utterly weary, that she
flings herself into a deep easy chair close
to the open window; and sits idly looking
down across a lilliputian forest of helio
tropes and geraniums into the hot sum
She is looking very lovely; but she is
not looking at all happy. I he rich
masses of her dark brown hair are swept
away from her broad lowbrow, and se
cured in a coil ofsupcrb plats at the back
of her head; her simple white morning
Iress is only ornamented by large knots of
broad violet ribbon, and she wears no
ewtlry whatever, except a tiny, slender
gold chain, which she twists perpetually
u and out of her white fingers.
She sits for about half an hour, always
looking down across the plants in the Lai.
cony at the pavement opposite, when she
suddenly starts, and wrenches the thin
chain off her fingers in her agitation.
She has seen the person for whom she
has been waiting. A gentleman, who
lounges lazily along the other side of the
street, crosses the road beneath the win
ilow, and knocks at the door.
"At last!" she says, "now, perhaps,
this mystery will be explained!"
A servant announces, "Mr. Margrave."
"At last!" she savs again, rising as he
enters the room. "Oh, Mr. Margrave, 1
have been eo anxious to sec you.''
lie looks about on the crowded table to
liud, amongst its fashionable litter, a place
for his hat, fails in doing so, and puts it
down on a chair, and only then looks
listlessly up at her and says.
"Anxious to sec me, my dear Ellinor,
"Because there arc two or three ques
tions which I must ask which you must
That peculiar expression in Horace
Margrave's eyes which was as it were
a shiver of the eyelids, passed over them
now; but it was too brief to be perceived
by Ellinor Dalton. He sank lizily into a
chair; near her own, but not opposite to
it. He paused to place this chair with
its back to the light, and then said,
"My dear Ellinor, my dear Mrs. Dal
ton, what questions can you have to ask
me, but questions of a purely business
character; and even those, I imagine,
your husband, who is quite as practical a
man as myself, could answer as well as
"Mr. Dalton is the very last person to
whom I can apply for an answer to the
questions which I have to ask !"
"And why the last person?"
"Becuase those questions relate to him
"Oh, I see! My dear Mrs. Dalton, is
not this rather a bad beginning? You
appeal from your husband to your solici
tor." "No, Mr. Margrave. I appeal to my
"Parden me, my dear Ellinor, there is
no such person. He is defunct; he is ex
tinct. Prom me moment l placed your
hand in that of your husband on the
altar steps of St. George's, Hanover
Square, my duties, my right to advise
you, and your right to consult me, ex
pired. Henceforth you have but one
guardian, one adviser, one friend, and
his name is Hct7rv5iaiton."
A sad shade "fell over Ellinor Dalton's
handsome face, and her eyes hall tilled
with tears as she said
"Mr. Margrave, Heaven forbid that I
should s;i a v.oid which could be con
strued inlo a reproach to you. Your duties
of guardianship undertaken at the prayer
of my dying father, have been as truly and
conscientiously discharged as such duties
should be discharged by a man of vour
high Ksitiou and unblemished character;
but I will own that sometimes, with a
woman's folly, I- have wished that, for
the memory of my dead father, who
loved and trusted you, for the memory of
the departed childhood, in which we were
companions and friends, some feeling a
little warmer, a little kinder, a little more
affectionate, eomething of the tenderness
of an elder brother, might have mingled
with your punctillioua fulfillment of the
duties of guardian. I would not for the
world reproach you still less reproach
you for an act for which I only am re
sponsible yet I cannot but remember
that, if it had been so, this marriage
might never have taken place."
"It is not a happy marriage, then?"
"It is a most unhappy one!"
Horace Margrave is silent for a few
moments, and then says, gravely, almost
"My dear Mrs. Henry Dalton" he is
especially scrupulous in calling her Mrs.
Dalton, as if he were anxious to remind
her every moment how much their rela
tions have changed "when you accuse
me of a want of tendcencss in my conduct
towards yourself, of an absence of warm
regard for the memory of your dead fath
er, my kind and excellent friend, you ac
cuse me of that for which I am no more
responsible than for the color of my hair,
or the outline of my face, lou accuse
me of that whicn is, perhaps, the curse
of my existence: a heart incapable of
checrishing a strong aflection, or a sin
cere friendship, for any living being.
Behold me at fivc-and-thirty years of age
unloved and unloving, without one tic
which I cannot as easily break as I can
pay a hotel bill or pack my portmanteau.
My life, at its brightest, is a dreary one.
A dreary present, which can neither look
back to a fairer past, nor forward to a
happier future 1"
His deep, musical voice falls into a sad
der cadence as he says these last words,
and he looks down gloomily at the point
of the cane he carries, with which he ab
sently traces a pattern upon the carpet.
After ashort silence he looks up. and
"But you wish to make some inquiries
"I did. I do. When I married Mr.
Dalton, what settlements were made?
You told me nothing at the time; and I,
so utterly unused to business matters
asked you no questions. Besides, I had
then reason to think him the most hon
orable of men."
"What settlements were made?'' he re
peats her question, as if it were the last
of all others which he expected to hear.
"Yes, my fortune! How much of it
was settled on myself?"
"Not one penny 1" She gives a start
of surprise, which he answers in his most
nonchalant manner. 'Not one penny of
it! There was no mention whatever of
any thing like a settlement, in your
uncle's will. He left his money to you,
but he left it to you only on-condition
that you shared it with his adopted and
beloved son, Henry Dalton. This nn
plies not only a strong aflection for, but
an implicit faith in, the young man. To
tie up your money, or to settle it on your
self, would be to nullify youruncle's will
The man that would be trusted by him,
could be trusted by you. This is why I
never suggested a settlement. I may
have, perhaps, acted in rather an unlaw
yer-li'ce manner, but I do believe, my
dear Ellinor, that I acted in the only
manner consonant with your late uncle's
affectionate provisions for the two per
sons nearest and dearest to him?''
"Then Henry Dalton is sole master of
my of the fortune?"
"As your husband, decidedly, yes."
"And he may, if he pleases, sell the
"The Arden Estate is not entailed
Certainly he may sell it, if he wishes."
"Then, Mr. Margrave, I must inform
you that he docs wish to sell it; that he
does intend to sell it.'1
"To sell Arden Hall?"
An angry flush lights tip her face, as
she looks eagerly into the lawyer's eyes
for one flash of surprise or indignation.
She looks in vain.
: ell, my dear JUrs. OJallon, jn my
opinion he shows himself a very scn.-iblc
fellow, by determining on such a proceed
ing. Arden is one of the dreariest
coldest, and mo.-t tumbledown old piles
of buildings iu all England. It possesses
all the leading features of a country man
sion; magnificent oak panelling, con
temptible servants' offices; three secret
staircases, and not one register stove: six
tapestried chambers, aud'no bath-rooom;
a dozen Leonardo da Yanci's, and not
one door that docs not let in assassination,
in the shape of a northeast wind; a deer
park, and no deer; three gamekeepers'
lodges, and not game enough to tempt
the most fatuitous of poachers!
Sell Arden Hall! Nothing could be more
desirable; but, a!as ! my dear Ellinor,
your husband is not the man I look him
for, if he calculates upon finding a purchaser!"
She looks at him with not a little con
tempt, as she says
'But the want of feeling; the outrage
upon the memory of my poor uncle!"
"Your poor uncle will not be remem
bered a day the longer through your re
taining possession of a draughty and un
comfortable house. When did Dalton
tell you that he meant to sell Arden?"
"On our return from our tour. I sug
gested that we should live there that is,
of course, out of the season."
"And he ?"
"Keplied, that it was out of the ques
tion our ever residing ther as the place
must be sold."
"You asked him his reasons?"
"I did. He told me thahe was unable
to reveal those reasons to me, and might
never be able lo reveal them. He said,
that if I loved him, I could trust him and
believe in him, and believe that the course
he took, however strange it might apear
to me, was, in reality, the best and wisest
course he could take."
"But in spite of this, you doubt him?"
le asked, earnestly.
How can I do otherwise? Of the
fortune which I have brought to him, he
refuses to allow me a pennv. He, the
lusband of a rich woman, enjoins econo
my economy even in the smallest de
tails. I dare not order a jewel, a picture,
an elegant piece of furniture, a stand of
hot-house flowers; for, if I do so, I am
told that the expenditure is beyond his
present means, and that I must wait till
we have more money at our command.
Then again, his profession js a thou
sand times dearer to him than I. No
riclless, pennylcss barrister, with a
mother and sister to support, ever worked
harder than he works, ever devoted him
self more religiously than he devotes him
self to the drudging routine of the bar."
"Ellinor Dalton, your husband is as
high-minded and conscientious a man as
ever drew the breath of human life. I
seldom take the trouble of making a ve
hement assertion; so believe me, if you
can, now that I do! Believe me, even if
you cannot believe him!"
You, too, against me," she said
mournfully. "Oh, believe me, it is not
the money for which 1 wish! it is not
the possession of the money which I
grudge him; it is only that my heart
sinks at the thought of being united to a
man I cannot respect or esteem. 1 did
not ask to love him," she sdxlcd. half to
herself; "but I did pray that I might be
able at least to esteem him."
I can only say, Ellinor, that you arc
mistaken in him."
At this very moment they hear a quick,
firm step on the stirs, and Henry Dalton
himself enters the room. His face is
bright and cheerful, and advances to his
wife eauerlv; but at the sicht ol Horace
Margrave, falls back, with a frown.
Mr. Margrave, I thought it was part
of our agreement that "
The lawyer interrupts him
"That I should never darken this
Ellinor looks from one to the other,
with a pale, frightened face.
"Henry, Henry!" she exclaimed.
'Mr. Dalton, what, iu Heaven's name,
does this mean?"
"Nothing that in the least can aflect
you, Ellinor. A business disagreement
between myself and Mr. Margrave; noth
His wife looks away from him, scorn
fully, and turning to Horace Margrave,
rests her hand on the scroll-work at the
back of the chair in which he is seated.
It is so small an action iu itself; but it
says, as plainly as words could ever
"It is he whom I trust, in spite of you,
iu spite of the world."
It is not lost on Henry Dalton, who
looks at her with a grave, reproachful
glance, and sajs
"Under these circumstances, then, Mr.
"I had no right to come here. Grant-.
ed! and I should not have come, but "
lie hesitated a moment, and Ellinor
"I wrote to my guardian, requesting
him to call on me. Mr. Dalton what is
the meaning of this? What mystery
docs all this conceal? Am I to sec my
best and oldest friend insulted in my own
"A married woman has no friend but
her husband; and 1 may not choose lo
receive Mr. Margrave as a visitor in our
house," Henry Dalton savs. coldlv and
"You shall not be troubled any longer
with Horace Margrave s society, Mr,
Dalton." The lawyer rises as he speaks,
and walks blowly to the door. "Good
morning." He has his hand upon the
lock, when he turns, and, with a tone of
suppressed emotion iu his voice, says to
Mrs. Dalton, "Ellinor shake hands with
me." She extended both her hands to
him. He catches them in his, bends his
dark head over them for a moment, as he
holds them iu his grasp, and then says,
"Forgive me, Ellinor, and farewell!"
lie is gone. She rushes out on the
landing-place, and cries after him
"Mr. Margrave, guardian; Horace,
comeback if only for one moment, come
II tr hiubaud fulluus her, and catching
her slender wrist in his strong hand,
leads her into the drawing-room.
"Ellinor Dalton, chosen between "that
man and me. Seek to renew your ac
quaintance with him, or hold any com
munication whatever with him, that does
not pass through my hands, and we part
She falls sobbing into her chair.
"My only friend," she cries; "myonly,
only friend, and to be parted from thus 1"
Her husband stands a little distance
from her, earnestly, sadly watching her,
as she gives passionate vent to her wild
outburst of emotion.
What wretchedness 1 what utter
wretchedness!" she says aloud. "And
no hope of a termination to it, no chance
of an end to our misery !"
Continued next week.
(uliiff to the Dentist.
I like to come across a man with the
toothache. There's something so pleas,
ant about advising him to stuff cotton
into the tooth, to use camphor, creosote
and peppermint, that I always feel better
after giving it. I have had an aching
snag, and know just how it feels. It used
to wake mc up at nights, and make me
mad at noon, and set mc to sweaing ear
ly in the morning. I didn't meet man or
woman but what they advised me. One
said that a hot knitting needle pushed
down on the root was excellent; and an
other said that opium was an excellent
thing; and others said that it must be dug
out by the dentist. I ate cotton, pepper
mint, camphor and opium, until I got
black in the face. I put bags of hot ashes
to my check, applied mustard, held my
head in the overt), anil the ache still
ached. After the third week I decided
to have my tooth out. I decided to, and
then I decided not to. I changed my
mind four times in one afternoon, and at
last I went. The dentist was glad to sec
mc. He said that if he could not take
that tooth out without hurting me lie
would give a million. I got easier as he
talked, and I concluded not to have it
pulled. I started dowilstairs, but a jump
caught mc, and I rushed back. He said
he would look at it; perhaps it did not
need pulling at all, but he could kill the
nerve. By dint of flattery he got me into
the chair. Then he softly inserted a
knife and cut away the gums. I looked
up, and said I would kill him, but he
begged me not too said the cutting was
11 the pr.in thero was in it. He finally
got me. to lie back and open my mouth,
and then slipped in his forccp", and
closed them round the tooth. "Ohsorod
orordonbordosoforor!" I cried, but he
didn't pay anv attention to it. He drew
iu a full breath, grasped the forceps tight
ly, and then he pulled. Great spoons, but
didn,t it seem as if my head was going!
I tried to shout, grappled at him, kicked,
and then he held up the snag, and said,
"There I guess you won't feel any more
aching." I leaped down and hugged
him; 1 promised him ten millions; I told
him to make my house his home forever;
hugged him again. I shook hands
with everybody in the street; kissed my
wife, bought the baby a dozen rattle
boxes in a heap, and it seemed to mc as
if the world was too small for me, I was
so happy. Danlury Ncv-.i
ItiiiKtiitr for wntcr.
iV 1'assenger in a rail road express
train became thirsty.
"Where's that 'ere boy with the water
can?" he queried of his next neighbor.
"lie has gone forward to the baggage
car, I suppose," was the reply.
"Wall d'ye s'pose I kiu git him back
here again ?"
"Certainly," said the other, "you have
only to ring for him," and he nodded to
wards the bell-line that ran above their
No sooner said than done. Before any
one could prevent it Ituslicus had seized
the line and giving it a tremendous tug.
The consequence was at once obvious
three shrill whistles were heard, half a
dozen brakcmeii ran to their osts, and
the train came to a stand still with a end
denucss that started half the passciigcis
with astonishment, and caused every man
next to a window to hoist it and look out
to see what was the matter.
In a few minutes the conductor, red
and excited, came foaming into the car to
know who pulled at the bell rope.
"Here, mister, this way; I'm the man,1
shouted the ollcnder, drawing all eyes
"You!" said the couductcr. "and what
did you do it for?"
"Cos I wanted some water."
"Wanted some water?"
"Sartain, 1 wanted the water boy, and
my pardncr here in the scat said I'd bet
ter ring for him as we do at the hotel, an,
so I yanked the rope. Will he be along
soon?" And. by the bye, what in thun
der be you etoppin' for?
The shout of laughter that greeted this
honest confession was too much for the
conductor, and he had to wait till he had
got his train under way again before he
explained the mysteries of the bell rope
to his verdant customers. BosI-jii CW
"I think 1 have seen you before, sir.
Are you not Onen Smith?" "Oh, jes,
I'm owin' Smith, and owin' Jonc3, and
owin' Brown, and owin' everybody."
The Arkansas AVuy of Disposing of
It it ill.
Capt. J. C. Kay and Mr. J. P. Hul-!
scy left this place one day last week for
Pike county, for the purpose of capturing
the desperado, Ambrose II. White,
charged with murder, and who escaped
custody, and has since set the authorities
at defiance. They state he was captured
just before their arrival there by two
brothers named Cox. and afterward, in
attempting to escape, was shot and killed
by one of the Coxes. It appears that
White had been on terms of intimacy for
some time past with a girl that one of the
Cox boys wished to marry, but, the girl
prefcrrihg White, was preparing to leave
the country with him. This excited the
anger'of Cox, and he, with his brother
agreed upon White's capture. Being on
intimate terms with him, they rode up to
the house of the girl, where White was,
and he, being unsuspicious of danger
greeted them kindly. He was sitting on
a chair, with his gun across his lap, and,
while one of the Coxes engaged him in
conversation, the other got behind him,
and at a favorable moment seized him
from behind and pinioned his arms, while
the other presented a revolver at his breast
and disarmed him. White then tried to
beg off, promising to leave the country
and not harm them. They refused to re
lease him, when White asked the priv
ilege of getting a drink of water. When
on the way to the well he broke and run,
and was shot by one of the Coxes through
the body, but ran some distance before he
fell. Cox then ran up to him, when White
begged him not to shoot him, as he was
already a dead man. Cox replied, "No
d n you, you might get up, so look out
for your head here goes," and fired,
shooting him through the temple, killing
him instantly. The other Cox had his
hands full iu managing the girl, who
showed pluck and a disposition to defend
White with her life. Pike county is thus
rid of a very desperate and dangerous man.
and though his taking off was to satisfy
personal revenge rather than violated law,
the people of that couuty have reason to
be glad of it If Pike can now get rid of
the Coxes it would be all the better for it.
Why lie KiIH-41 lllm.
- Courier Journal, 17th.
It will be remembered that dispatches
to the Gftrier-Journal, from Boone county,
detailed the- unprovoked shooting of a
man named- Jlillcncr by a stage driver
named Webster. A correspondent of the
Commonwealth has the following iu ref
erence to the shooting: Some facts con
nected with the shooting of Millcner by
Webster might throw sonic light tijion
the matter. Iu 18tl Aleck Webster, a
brother of the homicide, was a Confeder
ate soldier. He came home to Critten
den, and surrendered under the cartel.
lie was scut lo Willliamstou jail by the
commanding officer, who ordered the
guard lo "lose" him on the road. The
prisoner became aware of the sentence,
but could not escape, and at a point a
half mile above Crittenden he was killed,
and his friends were refused his body
The man Millener was one of the guards
and with fiendish brutality fired into the
boby of Webster after life had been for
some time extinct, l have tins Irom a
credible source. My informant lived in
the neighborhood of Crittenden at the
time, and says it is reliable. If true, it
will be regarded as a mitigating circum
stance in what seemed to be a cold
A Terrible Drain in the Sewer of Clin
ton. y.V l'rlson.
It is reported that Filkins, who for as
saulting and robbing an cxpicss messen
ger on the cars at Albany, was sent to,
Clinton, and who subsequently escaped a
year ago, and was not heard from after
wards, never succeeded in leaving the
prison. It now transpires, says the AI
hany Argus, that while men were en
gaged in cleaning the main sewer under
the Daunemora prison, they came upon
the skeleton of a human body lying at
the bottom of the sewer and quite sub
merged in filth. A close examination re
vealed that it was the remains of Filkins
who had died there after escaping frou
the corridors of the prison down throng!
one of the water closets, in a vain hope
of gaining his liberty by passing througl
the sewer and out of its mouth, which is
strongly closed with bars of heavy iron
secured at cither side in walls of heavy
masonry. The officers consider this ver
sion of the manner in which he probably
met his death as the most reasonable, for
they arc aware that two men a short
time ago, endeavored to effect an escape
In this way, no one but Filkins had dis
appeared since a previous cleaning ol the
sewer, and that no one could possibly
have reached the location occupied by
thc skeleton other than through the wa
The Indianapolis xn has taken high
rani: among the political newspapers of
the country, and is edited with marked
ability. U is fearless and candid in the
discussion oflcading questions of reform,
especially in currency and finance, and
its general make-up presents attractions
equal to any Weekly in the country. For
terms see advertisement elsewhere.
They now call retired printers ex-pres.
Jlr. Smith's VcrltliMl Dream.
M orriitown. (Tenth) Sazette.
Moses Smith, livrng about six miles
west of this place, is a well known, in
dttstrious and well-to-do farmer, and a
man whose word is- respected by his
neighbors. He recites a very remarkable
case of premonition cf danger through
the agency of dreams, which we think
of sufficient interest to repeat. Mr. Smith
has been a widower for years, and occu
pies his house alone. By economy and
thrift he has managed to accumulate
about Sj'OO in gold, which he kept iu a
wooden lo.f Irr Ms bed-roorar. Kcr two
nights in succession he dreamed that rob
bers broke into his house and carried off
his golden, treasure. The second occa3ioa
of the vision happened lasl Wedrntstlay
night week. Thursday lie had made ar-
raifgements to visit thistown on business,
but the sirrgularily of the dream was- so
impressed upon his mrml that before leav
ing hoiue, he removed his gold from the
box and hid it in a hollow stump in tire
field. Thursday evening irpon returning;
to his home he found his house had been
broken into, and ransacked, and the box
in which his treasure was usually kept
burstcd open and scattered on the floor.
He is well satisfied that had it not been
for the timely warning Iy dream, be
would have lost his gold.
Forpcry anil Suicide.
Paris True Kentuctim.
Mr. James A. Turner committed snI-
cide in Montgomery county, on Saturday
last. He had been forging the name of
his brother-in-law, Jas. F. Turner, ol Cin
cinnati!, for some time past, two checks
on some of the banks, and one at Owing,
villc. The forgeries having been discov
ered. Turner left and went to Canadasomc
two or three weeks ago. He returned a
far as the residence of Richard GooJpoa-r
ter, on Friday last, having walked fro mi
Paris that day. He laid in Mr. G.'s or
chard that night, and on Saturday room
ing went to the house. He was in a
wretched condition, having taken a larga
dose of arsenic at daylight. Mr. GootT-
pastcr thought he was bordering on de
lirium tremens, from his actions. He tru-
lressed him and induced him to lie down.
Word coming to the sheriff that Turner
was at Goodpaster's, he went out to-arrest
him in the afternoon. After 8ervh: his
writ. Turner told the sheriff that if he
would come out the next morning he
could take him without sny.troubte. as he-
would then be dead, as he had taken a
large dose of arsenic. Thesheritlat once
sent into the city for Dr. Duerson. When
the doctor reached T.'s bedside be found
him in a dying condition. He died in
about one hour after the docters arrival.
VVIiat tUc Cirnnajer 2TTcnif.
Oak Woods, Ohio Co., Ky., Jnly 12.
Editor Herald: Aa there seems to
be an idea prevalent in this county that
the Patrons propose to work against all
who are not Grangers, by your permis
sion I will correct that mistake through,
your paper. emphatically assert that
we propose no such thins. We simply
propose to work for ourselves, and let
others do the same. In other words, we
have set up our own ladder, and intend
lo climb it Other professions may. set
theirs by ours, and climb as high as they
choose. If they can get higher than we
can, all right. We have no objections to
that. We will not put our ladder across
theirs, and we do not want theiri to put
theirs across ours. If they do, we will
get it off" if we can. Every other profes
sicn have their associations, and we claim
the same privilege. We claim to have
just as many privileges as any other pro
fession, and no more. And we are just
as free to act in political matters as we
were before we joined the Grange. All
we ask hjuitice. If you can find room,
for this in your paper, you will oblige a
friend. Cousin Graxge.
lin 'cm Bach.
A sancy Alabama editor say: Pin 'em
back ladies, pin 'em back! Dou't be ridi
culed out of a darling fashion, even if it
did originate among the demi-monde of
Paris. Pin 'cm back, draw them tighter
and tighter. Sit sidewise let impcrtinents
stare, in short just have your own .sweet
way as usual. We can stand it il you
can. Pin 'em back! Let the boys talk aa
they please about studying anatomy.
Pin 'cm back they may try for fifty
years and cannot show any better anatc
my than you can. So pin 'em back, girls
just as tight as yon please.
"Ah, Jemmy," wtid a sympathizing
friend to a man who was just too late for
the train, "you did not run fast enough."
"Yes I did," said Jemmy, "I ran fast
enough, but I did not start soon enough."
"Is Mr. Brown a man of means?" in
quired a lady visitor of A nut Bct?ay.
"Yes, I should think he was," replied
Aunt Betsey, "as everybody saya he'e the
meanest man in town."
A Louisville girl reports her first love
affair thus : "When Philander told me
he loved me, I was mighty tuk with it
and cottoned to him directly, and he eat
a-grinning like a baked skunk.
Reports from all ocr the State indi
cate that the recent heavy rains ha
been very general and much damage ha