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Itttunton jyectatot, Editor a-rid. TERMS, $2.00 A YEAR. IV Bemlttances should be made bycheck raft, postal order, of registered letter. PBOFC&rHONAI- J. " ATTOBNERY-AT-LAW, » East Main Street. Staunton. Va. iMARTBR BRAXTON, \J ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. No. 23 S. Augusta St. Special attention given to collections. /"» S. W.BARNES, \J„ ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, N0.14 West Main Street, sept 27-tf Staunton, Va. TIT H. LANDES, TV . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. No. 2, Court House Square, aug 9-tf A LEX. F. ROBERTSON, /Y. ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. Offlce No. i Lawyers' Row, in rear of Court- T-\R. D. A. BCCHEK Office in Crowle Building, Room 25, 3rd floor Offlce hours from 9 A, M. to 6 P. M. TTUGH G. EICHELBERGEK, Xl ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Staunton, va. attention to collections. B. S. Turk. Henry W. Holt. TURK A HOT.T, ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW, No. 8 Lawyers' Row, Staunton, Va. T aw Offices Lt ALEXANDER A TAYLOR, Lawyers, No 6 Lawyers' Row, oct 17-tf T M. QUARLES, _ I fj • ATTORNEP-AT-LAW, STAUNTON, VA. feb 17. '86-tf Wm. A. Pratt, Hugh Holmes Kerr. ] PRATT & KERB. ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW, No. 17 Court Place, - - Staunton, Va NOTARY PUBLIC. PA. GLASGOW, ATTOENEY-AT-LAW. m 5, No. 23 S. Augusta Street, Skinner Ing. STAUNTON, VA. H. M. PAITEESON, STAUNTON, VA. Otters his professional services to the citi zens of Staunton. Offlce No. 121 East Mtaln Street. I JH. CROSIER, . ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Offlce on Courthouse square. Prompt attention given to all legal business j »ntrusted to him, in State or Federal Courts. I will devote entire time to his profession. __ . -^— t> B. R. NELSON, Attobney-at-Law and Commissioner n Chancery. , OFFICE NO. 10 LAWYERS' ROW, Jan t-tf STAUNTON, VA. A C. BRAXTON ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR. OFFICE.—CbowIe Building opposite Y. M. Special attention given to corporation and real-estate law. Having closed up all outside business, wbicb for a year or two interrupted my regular law ftractice, I am now enabled to, and shall, from this 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-1 lse my best efforts and such ability as I may possess. Lan le-tf IB9S. The Sun! 1885 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 All the I Time, but it does not allow its columns to be I degraded by unclean, immoral or purely sen sational matter. Editorially, The Sun is the Consistent ANr unchanging champion and defender of popular rights and interests 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 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 by writers of prac tical experience, who know what farming means and what farmers want in an agricul tural Journal, lt contains regular reports of the work of tbe agricultural experiment stations throughout the country, of the pro ceedings of farmers' cluos and institutes, and the discussion of new methods and ideas in (Its Market Reports, Poultry r and Veterinary column are par luable to country readers. Every ns Stories, Poems, Household Columns, a variety of interesting ive selected matter aud other tea make it a welcome visitor In city homes alike, a year. Inducements to getters i for the Weekiy Sun. Both the eekly Sun mailed free of postage ted States, Canada and Mexico. variably in advance. Address A. S. Abell Company, Publishers and Proprietors. Baltimore, Md. 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. "Castoriaisso well adapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, I recommend it as superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, known to me." H. A. Archer, M. D„ Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes di 111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. Eestion, Without injurious medication. " The use of ' Castoria' is so universal and — Its merits so well known that it seems a work ss\r~~ «„,.,._. i -ex. . ... . »t ■ hor several years I havo recommended of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the _„,,,. . r '. nt „_.„ ,„„, , „ , .. 7^ ~ ~. . . ~. . . , . „ , . your castoria,' and shall always contir.no to intelligent families who do not keep Castona Hn«n.«in..; ■ .., /..v. „. , .... , „ do so as it has invariably produced beneflcia 1 within easy reach." results " Carlos Marty*, D. D., Edwin F. Pardee, M. D., New York CUy. 125 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City. Th* CxKTAra Cokpanv, 77 Murray Stesbt, New York Crrr Staunton M Spectator. VOL. 72. Bl i Are you taking Simmons Liver Reg ulator, the "King of Liver Mcdi- I cines?" That is what our readers I want, and nothing but that. It is the i same old friend to which the old folks I pinned their faith and were never dis j appointed. But another good recom j mendation for it is, that it ia bettes than Pills, never gripes, never weak ens, but works in such an easy and natural way, just like nature itself, that relief comes quick and sure, and one feels new all over. It never fails. Everybody needs take a liver remedy, and everyone should take only Sim mons Liver Regulator. Be sure you get it. The Red Z is on the wrapper. J. H. Zeilin & Co.c Philadelphia. nov2B-lvr Hours for Arrival anil Closing of Mails at Staun ton Postofflce. ARRIVE. BY C. AND O. RAILROAD. 5 a. m. from north, south, east and west. 9.57 a. m. from west. 2.10 p. m. from Richmond and Intermediate points. 7.05 p. m. from north, east and south. BY B. AND O. 7.22 a. m. from Lexington and Intermediate points. I 1.50 p. 111. from the north. 1 9.09 p. m. from the north. Harper's Ferry and i intermediate points. STAR ROUTES. 7 a. m. from Plunkettsville, dally except Sun day. 10 a. m. from Mt. Meridian, dally except Sun day. sp. m. from Middlebrook, daily except Sun day. 6.30 p. m. from Monterey, daily except Sunday. 10.30 a. m. from Sangersville. CLOSE. FOR B. AND O. 1 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 -9.00 p. m. for east, north, south and west. 2.15 p. m. for Clifton Forge and intermediate points. 6.15 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. in., closes 7 p. m. Money order and registry business opens at 8 a. m., closes 6 D. 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. Home 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 specillca tions, or trusts the work to an irresponsible attorney. It is not the kind dealt iv by the Press Claims Company. Do you want to know what the Press Claims Company is r 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 at patents, securing patents abroad, prosecuting and defending Infringement suits, etc. It charges nothing for Information, and very moderate fees for services. Addrees, PRESS CLAIMS COMPANY, No. 618 F St., N. W., Washington, D. C. JOHN WEDDERBURN. oct 17-tf General Manager. NOTICE. I want every man and woman in the United States interested in tbe Opinm and Whisky habits to have one of my books on these dis eases. Address B. M. Woolley, Atlanta, Ga. Box 382, and one will be -■ ent you free. TO MY FRIENDS And tbe PuMic Generally. 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 the month, week or day, at reasonable prices; also to furnish saddle and driving h orges, double and single. 1 can furnish you a nice turn-out—Surry, Buggies. Buck-Boards, etc., all in style, accommodated at moderate prices. Parties wanting first-class turnouts can be Fine horses always kept for sale. Hoping to receive a share of your patronage and guaranteeing satisfaction. I am Kespectfully, mar 13-tf R. A. CLEMMER. THE BOY IN GRAY. :398 I I Fredericksburg had bad her fray. JO And the armies stood at bay. "^jH Back of wall and top of hill °*M Union men and men in gray Glowered at each other still. In tho space between the two Many a hapless boy in blue Lay face upward to tho skies. Many another just as true Filled the air with frantic cries. "Lovo of God!" with pity stirred Criod a rebel lad who heard. "This is mora than I can bear. General, only say the word, Thoy shall have some water there." "What's the use?" his general. Frowning, asked. "A Yankee ball Drops you dead or worse half way Once you go beyond tho wall." "Maybe." said the boy in gray. "Still I'll risk it, if you please." And the senior, ill at ease, Nodded, growling under breath, "For his mortal enemies I have sent the lad to death." Then a hotter Arc began As across the field he ran. Yankee shooters marked a prey. But beside each wounded man Heedless knelt the boy in gray. Parched lips hailed him as he came: Throats with fever all aflame While the balls were spinning by Drained the cup he offered them, Blessed him with their dying ory. Suddenly through rain of those Pattering shots a shout uprose. Din of voices filled his ears; Firing oeascd, and eager foe Made the welkin ring with cheer*. Foes they were of bitter need. Still to every noble deed Hearts of men, thank God, must thrill. And we thrill, too, as we read Of those cheers on Marye's hill. Days of t»t Ho long since done. Days of peace and blessing won. Better is it to forget Cruel work of sword and gun, But some deeds are treasures yet. While a grateful nation showers Graves of heroes with her flowers Here's a wreath for one today; North or south, we claim him ours. Honor to the boy in gray I —Mary Bradley in St. Nicholaa. A CLEAR CASE. Frank Vanbrugh held a good appoint ment on the staff of The Daily Argus, and always had more literary work on hand than he knew how to get through. He might therefore be considered a "ris ing" man. He had written a little book of essays, and the critics had told him that he had a style, which is perhaps the highest praise that critics deal in nowa days. On the other hand, his one volume novel had been pronounced ornde, mor bid and overambitious, and had gone in to three editions, whence it may easily be Been that he was on the road to a popular success. He had begun to know this, chiefly by the kind of circulars that now reached him in halfpenny wrappers. They used always to be ad vertisements of patent fuel, new stoves, or outfitters' warehouses. They now proved to contain notices of press cutting firms and booksellers' catalogues—a sig nificant change. "Is this fame?" he once asked himself when he was request ed to send his photograph and a sketch of his early life to an American news paper. On second thoughts he concluded that, although it could not be called fame, it might mean success, and he went on his way rejoicing. But even a moderate success like his has its drawbacks, as he discovered to his cost. Like most journalists he was not a very early riser, and it was with a feel ing of distinct irritation that he heard one morning while he was still in his bath the announcement of a visitor. "Coming," he roared through the door to the adjacent sitting room, and proceeded to dress himself in a leisurely manner, wondering meanwhile whether this early caller were a printer's devil or a dun. He looked a personable young fellow as he came out of his room, of middle height, muscular, brisk, erect, with a keen hawk's eye, dark hair that curled whorever it was long enough to get a chance, a quick, bright manner, and a smile that was very attractive. His air of health, strength and joyousness made him a eorious contrast to the stranger whom he found in his sitting room, a man who might be any age between 80 and 50, sallow, worn, indescribably fatigued looking, with a long, fair mus tache, a downtrodden look and decidedly shabby clothes of somewhat foreign cut He made a profound bow when Van brugh entered and stood clasping his picturesque felt hat to his side in an at titude of humble expectancy, while his host, glancing at him carelessly, asked him to be seated, and himself took his usual place near his desk. "I am ashamed to intrude upon you," said the man, speaking in a low, fluent voice not unpleasant to the ear, "but the fact is that Messrs. Mailing rec ommended me to call upon you"— "Eh?" said Vanbrugh. He suddenly remembered an account that he had lately seen in the papers of a man who visited authors with false testimonials and messages from publishers, and he wondered If this were the man. Cer tainly Messrs. Mailing & Son were his publishers. "Have you a letter from Mr. Mailing to me?" he asked rather sharply. The stranger lifted his hand deprecat ingly. "Not from Mr. Mailing," he said in a gentle voice, "but I have a letter to show you. Mr. Mailing said that I ought to show it to you. He was very kind, but of course he could not find me work to do. It is work that I am in search of, sir, and unless I find it I dare not think of what will happen to my wife and children.'' He paused and put one long, lean hand over his eyes, as though to keep out the picture. "What sort of work do you want?" said Vanbrugh, fidgeting with his pa pers. "Copying, typewriting, shorthand from dictation. Anything to keep the wolf from the door. My poor little girls —sir, on Christmas day I had nothing to give them but bread and cheese—l could not bear to see them crying, and I locked myself in my room away from them. But why should I tell you such pitiful details? Read this letter and you Will see that it is no fault of my own"— , His vcieo choked a little, and he held Dtst tjje letter'with a shaking hand. Prank looked at him doubtfully. Either n;5 Wa.s a splendid actor, or his emotion ma sincere. Vanbrugh had learned by bitter experience to be sru:picious of Btrangers, but he was inclined to believe in this man's veracity. Tho paper in his hand boro an en graved crest, an address with which he Was well acquainted. He turned to the last page to see the signature—it was one which he knew well, and the letter, addressed to Mailing, the publisher, gave a glowing acoonnt of the bearer's abilities and past achievements. "Your name, then," said Vanbrugh, keeping his eye on the letter, "is Charles Bimmonds?" "Yes—yes—at your servioe, If there *to anything I can possibly do t pi yoa. I STAUNTON, VA., OCTOBER 23,1895. nave nan notning to uo iar tne mm turce ; 1 months owing to an illness from which | I have only just recovered. If you have any copying"— , "But I don't want anything copied," laid Vanbrugh in rather a perplexed tone. "I do all my work myself. And— I don't know, but perhaps—if you call ed at The Daily Argus office tomorrow about 4 or 5 I might have heard of something"— He was almost abashed by the man'a eager gratitude. "You give me new hope," he cried, starting up, as if be could no longer endure to remain seated. Then his face fell, the fire died out of his bine eyes and his hands fell help lessly to his sides. "My poor wife—my children!" he muttered. "Must I go home empty handed once again? Sir, if of your great goodness you could but lend me a poor half crown. I will faithfully"— "Oh, good Lord," said Vanbrugh, shocked more by the smallness of the request than by anything else, and touched also, he scarce knew why, "here's a trifle! If you can make any use of it—yon needn't mention it again —it is nothing"— - ■ - ' But they were two sovereigns that found their way into the visitor's long, lean hand. "I suppose it's a genuine case," said Vanbrugh to himself rather ruefully when the impecunious literary man had taken his departure and the donor of the sovereigns had had time to reflect upon his gift and the very effusive burst of gratitude that had followed it. "It sounded real enough. And that letter from James Desmond. That was cer tainly in his own hand. However, when I've time, I'll go round to Mailing's and see what they know about him." Ho had light on the subject before he went to Messrs. Mailing. He turned into his clnb that afternoon and met Desmond, a writer of some repute, upon the steps. "Oh," said Vanbrugh, after greeting him, "what about that man Simmonds yon sent to Mailing"— "Simmonds, my dear boy? Capital fellow; very clever; died a year and a half ago." "Eh?" "Oh, I see!" said Desmond, falling into a roar of laughter. "I've heard something of this kind before. There's a man going round begging under that name, isn't there? And you've been hit? How much did he get out of you? Mot ley gave him £5." "I didn't lose so badly as that," said Vanbrugh trying to laugh too, "but he had me I must confess. Then he didn't come from Mailing?" "Bless your innocence, no. He's a swindler, my boy, a downright swin dler." "And a very clever ono. I wish I could get hold of him again!" said Van brugh grudgingly. "A clear case of the worst kind of theft." He had his wish rather sooner than he anticipated. A few weeks later in the season he was taking a Ehort cut to the Strand through some of the narrower and less frequented streets near Drury lane, when his attention was caught by a figure on the pavement which seemed vaguely familiar. Where had he seen before that shabby, jaunty figure, with tho soft felt hat, the indescribable air of poverty stricken picturesqueiiess? Van brugh had an eye for likenesses. In an other minute he held tbe man by the arm. It was the swindler indeed—the so called Charles Simmonds himself. But (he man was more agile than Vaubrugh thought. He turned a white, terror stricken glance on his captor, then wrenched himself free and dived down a narrow lane on his right hand. Heedless of consequences, Vanbrugh plunged in pursuit through the crowd, but the man was evidently well ac quainted with the mazes of the streets, and was speedily lost to view. Van brugh, perceiving his pursuit to be use less, stopped short, and found himself in a narrow alky, which his instinct told him was "dangerous." The sinis ter folk who lounged about it belonged unmistakably to the criminal classes. As he had no mind to be despoiled of his watch or his purse, he shrugged his shoulders and prepared to depart, but at that moment his eye was caught by a face which peered at him from an upper window and retreated—the very face, with its long, fair mustache, of the man of whom he was in search. Vanbrugh, as will be evident to every reader of these pages, was not a prudent man. In at the open door of the house, and up the common stair he dashed, quite heed less of the probability tbat he was rush ing headlong into a den of thieves. He had as quick an eye for locality as for likenesses, and knew at once the exact position of the room at the window of which he had seen the pseudo Sim monds. He went straight to the door, threw it open and walked in. He looked round and stood aghast. No man was in the room at all. It was tenanted only by a tall girl in black, who sat at a table on which stood a sewing machine. As soon as Vanbrugh looked at her and met her eyes he felt vaguely startled and taken aback. Why, this girl, in spite of her shabby clothes, her sewing machine, her poor surroundings—this girl was a lady. Her pale face was ex quisitely refined. Her hair shone like spun gold above her common gown. Her eyes were so proud, so sad, so calm, that Vanbrugh's gaze fell beneath them. "Do you want anything?" she said, and her voice was the voice of a lady too. "I bog your pardon," said Vanbrugh, removing his hat. "I thought I had tracked a man to this room—a swindler, a thief, whom I have long been in search of—but I was mistaken, per haps"— "There is no thief here," said the girl briefly and began to work her ma chine as if (oput an end to the colloquy. But her face had crimsoned and then turned white. Vanbrugh made one step to her side and put his hand on her wrist. "You know where ho is," he said sternly. "Ho has passed through this room. Ah, there is a door"— He dropped her wrist and would have Stridden to tho little wooden door which he had not at first observed had not the girl, casting aside hei mask of calm and quiet, thrown herself upon him and barred the way. "Oh, stop, stop, if yon have any mercy!" she cried "Don't follow him. Don't go that way. I know what you have come for, but it is not altogether ■ his fault. Oh, won't you listen? Won't i you be merciful?" Vanbrugh's position suddenly struck ( himself as humiliating and ridiculous. • He hud wanted to catch the swindler j Certainly and had rather thought of giv- i ing him a thrashing instead of handing ! him over to the police, but it was absurd I to be implored in this manner, as if he were a monster of cruelty. Of course the girl was the man's accomplice, but : she was a very pretty §tt\ '•Merciful':" Be said. ~ ion seem to < know all about it. This man who calls himself Simmonds, what is his real name, by the way?" She looked at him mutely, and he un derstood that he wonld get no answer to that question. "What is yonr own name? Can yon tell me that?" he asked, with more roughness of manner than he quite meant to show. "My name is Dora Simmonds," she answered, and he could see that she was trembling. "The wife of the man lam looking for, I suppose?" "No," she answered, while the red blood surged to her brow and made her for the moment a living image of shame, "his daughter." Vanbrugh's face seemed to have caught a tinge of color from hers. He felt the shame of her heart as if it had been his own. "Forgive me," he said at last in his impulsive way. "I—l did not understand. I will go." He had scarcely reached the door be fore she stopped him. "If you will tell ~ 'me," she said, "what my father took— noia you, I'll pay it back—indeed I will. If I work my finger* to the bone. Til' pay it back—and then you will— perhaps—not wish so much—to — punish him"— "I don't wish anything. It was only a trifle—* mere nothing. Don't think of it again." "But I most think of it," she cried, clasping her hands together. "I most think of it. I cannot bear my life unless I try to undo the harm that he has done." Vanbrugh's heart swelled with pity. But even as he tried to think of words with which to console her she covered her eyes with one hand to conceal her tears, and shut the door suddenly in his face. "I wonder—have I been taken in again?" said the journalist as he de scended the rotten stairs. ' A few days afterward he found in his letter box a little packet inscribed with his name. It proved to contain 10 shil lings, and a businesslike indorsement: "First installment. Dora Simmonds." A week later a similar packet was left in the box, and then Vanbrugh vowed within himself that he would find out more about that girl whose wan yet lovely face had begun to haunt him in his dreams or die in the attempt. He sought out the street in which he had been living, but she and her father were gone. He made inquiries in vain. At last, by pure accident, he came upon her as she was descending the stairs that led to his rooms. It was twi light, and he caught her by the arm. "I have found you," he said. "You have been putting that money into my box again?" He spoke almost angrily, and the color came into her pallid face —more pallid, more worn by suffering, than when he had seen her last, "If I did," she answered, "it was the right thing to do." "Did your father tell you?" "Yes." "But he—did he"— "I earned the money," said the girl, with a resentful flash of her eyes— "earned it honestly by needlework, if you wish to know. My father was glad for me to pay it back. He—he had been very much tempted—and I am sure ho will not do anything like it—again." Vaubrugh thought of Motley's £5 and felt doubtful. "How did he come by that letter?" he asked. "Is his name Charles Simmonds or not?" "Charles Simmonds was my uncle. The letter was written about him, and my father—he has made use of it— twice, I believe," she answered, her voice sinking into low accents of grief and shame "It was all for my sake— he could not bear to see me working hard—and now he is overwhelmed by grief and contrition"— Vanbrugh reflected that so good an actor as her father could no doubt make her believe what he chose. There was a colder tone in his voice as he said: "Bring that letter to me, so that he cannot be tempted again, and take back your money, Miss Simmonds." "You do not believe me! You do not believe him!" she cried vehemently. "But I will bring you the letter. He . * .- . y • ~ - ...•■ would starve rather than use it again." She flung away into the darkness, and Vanbrugh felt ashamed. By one of the next day's posts the letter from James Desmond was returned to him, but without a word from Dora or her father. Yet Vanbrugh managed to in tercept her when she brought the last installment of the money, though how he managed to do it no one ever knew. He began abruptly: "I feel degraded by taking this money from you. I would sooner—far sooner—that all I had was yours. Miss Simmonds, will you marry me?" "Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Van brugh?" "I love yon with all my heart, Dora." "It is impossible. You don't know anything about me." "I know that you are the noblest girl in the world. But Ido not love you for that. I love you because I can't help it I have loved you I believe ever since I saw you first. Can't yon care for me, too—a little?" He tried to take her hand, but Dora drew herself away. "I shall never marry," she said. "My father— He was not like it once," she broke off to say tremblingly, "but he gambles—and you know what that means." Yes, he knew. But he knew also that Dora loved him, and he was content. Nevertheless he might never have called her his wife had not her father's career beeii cut short. He fell under the hoofs of the omnibus horses one slippery winter's day, aud was carried to a hos pital only to linger a few hours. Van brugh joined Dora at his side, and hand in hand they watched and waited dur ing the last moments of the gambler's wasted life. In spite of Dora's representations, it must be confessed that Vanbrugh had always looked on her account of her father's peuiteuco as a pious daughterly Action. And so he might always have thought had not the dying man opened his eyes at the last moment, looked him full in the face, and raised himself up by one supreme last effort to say a word in Vanbrugh's oar. "Forgive I" he said, and sank back on his pillow dead, It was always Frank Vanbrugh's opin ion afterward that his wife's pitying estimate of her father's character had ; been truer than his own.—Woman at j Home. A -J OKI-. j "Wo'vo t\TO baseball nines out at oui | shirt factory," said the variety comedi | an last night. "What do you call 'em?" "One i 3 named the Shirts and the other the Collars." "Which side usually wins?" "Ne ; thcr, because there is always a tie between'em."—Philadelphia Call. ] AN AMPHIBIOUS CRIMINAL. Hl9 IVIvhL rioas Method of Escape Revealed by Accident. The retired detective said: "One of the hardest chaps to run down I over came across was one I had something to do with when I was on the po lice force, many years ago. He wa3 an all round thief, ready and willing to crib anything he conld get his hands on, from a and lot to a hot stove, and he never let anybody get their hands on him if he cculd help it, and he always did, while I was on the foice. For the five years I was working along the dock district the fellow kept at his work, and we couldn't catch him. One night he cracked a safe and got away with |1,- -000 or more, and a reward was offered, for him. This put us ajl on our mettle, aud I was k«oe;i to make a reputation and had everything and everybody spot ted. "Not a hair of him, though, showed for as mnch as three months, and then one night I flushed him and gave chase. He went for the dock, and I was sure I had him, for there was only one way to get out of that-, aud tbat was by th* water, and in this particular place he couldn't sneak under the flooring, but had to take to the open water. I wasn't ten yards behind him as he went out the dock on a run, and. I saw him go over and heard the splash. It couldn't have been a second till I was in sight of all the water where he went in, but when I got there there wasn't any sign of my man, and the whole place was well lighted with lamps. "I made a thorough search, going all around under the docks beyond the only place where he could get under, but there wasn't any man there. I was sure then that he had been drowned, and we dragged the place, but could find noth ing in the shape of a man, though we did fish out a dead woman, who had evidently been in the water for a month. His body had floated off; that was all there was to it, and we congratulated ourselves on getting rid of him, even if we had lost the reward. However, six weeks later, a detective 'detected' him one night on a boat on the Thames, and just as he was going to take him in he went overboard and disappeared in the dark waters of the river. Every effort was made to find him again, but with ont success, and this time we were sure he had been drowned. "For a year afterward nothing was seen of him, aud then we heard of him in Liverpool, and one of the Scotland Yarders went there to take him if pos sible. He spotted him as usual, down about the docks, where ho seemed to be ' careless, arid again he took |o the water and escaped. By this time we felt that he wasn't born to bo drowned and that he would turn up again. He did, sev-! eral times, aud each time he got away. I At last, about five years after I had been ' in America, I received a letter from a ! friend of mine at Scotland Yard to the effect that the 'water dog,' as we called him, had been captured by an r.ccideut. I He had been seen near tho decks by a i roundsman and chased, and as he went , toward tho water across the dock he tripped on a rope and fell, striking his head on a stanchion, aud falling into the water iv an unconscious condition. He was fished cut and resuscitated, but before they brought him around they discovered his ninphibiousness, so to speak. Fastened about his neck was a rubber tube, J 0 feet or so long, with a mouthpicco ready handy at one end, and the other end fastened into a small cork float, so that when he went into the w«- ter he staid tiicre, cither swimming away or holding to a do. k pile, but nev er coming to tho surface for air, as he got all he wanted through the tube, with its open end in the float, which wouldn't bo noticed ouotiiue in a thou sand iv tho daik in sucli nasty water as is about the docks. Of couise ihey would have got on to him alter uuhile, but the accidental falling saved time and ex plained a mystery, which ho no doubt. guarded sacredly, even from men of bis class, for I know none of the thieves we ever caught could give him away."— Washington Star. A Grafted Snake. Dr. Q. A. Countryman of Mallette, S. D., possesses a combination snake. It is half garter aud half (and snake, and this peculiar composition was made possible by a surgical operation perform ed by the doctor. His attention was di rected to snakes f/oui observing that when a snake is billed its tail appears to live until the sun goes down, when life ceases. It is thought by many that this is owing to the nerves, but the doc tor was somewhat skeptical on this point. Being a surgeon he dissected sev eral and made souio interesting discov eries. He found that in both the sand and garter snakes the spinal column ex tended littlo more than half the length of the body. Knowing that it was pos sible to graft flesh, this led him to chloroform them and try splicing them, making the splice, of course, below the end of the spinal column. He made four unsuccessful attempts, but succeeded in the fifth. The grafted snake he has now . is apparently in good health, and the 1 joined parts are perfectly knitted to jgether. Its body is of the sand snake • and its tail is a garter snake's.—San (Francisco Chronicle. Sir Douglas Galton on Aluminium. ■ The recent meeting of the British as ; sociation at Ipswich was opened by the usual presidential address delivered by Sir Douglas Galtou, who, to use Lord Kelvin's words, has been "for a quarter of a century the mainstay of the British association." Sir Douglas Galton's ad dress was in no sense sensational or epoch making, but its review of the progress of science contained some in teresting facts. Perhaps the most quota ble passage is that in which he dealt with tho future of aluminium. If, by means of the wasted forces in our rivers or of the wind, the extraction of alumin ium be still further cheapened, the metal or its alloys may, ho holds, not only be utilized in increasing the spans of our bridges and in affording strength and lightness in the construction of our ships, but "we may hope to obtain a material which may render practicable the dreams of Icarus and of Maxim and for purposes of rapid transit enable us to navigate the air. " We regret to have to add that the strain of reading his ad dress proved too great for Sir Douglas Galton's strength, and that he had to resume his seat before the end WS reached. We are glad to think, however, that his indisposition was but tempo rary.—London Spectator. Immense Forests. A faint idea of the vastness of our forests in the Willapa valley, Washing ton, says the Francos News, can be formed by the fact that by building a short spur of from 1 Jff to 2y% miles of track a body of timber can be tapped which contains about 80,000,000 feet. This is the estimate made by two men of sound judgment on the timber busi ness. ! ODD COINCIDENCES. i ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE TRICKS THAT FATE CAN FLAY. Lost Articles Wliich Were Kccovered In Most Peculiar Ways—ln ths View of the Science of Chances Such Things Are Not Extraordinary. An article in Good Word.-' by the ed ■ itor, Dr. Macleod, contains a string of well authenticated coincide;; as. These j cannot but encourage the novelist, who discovers that no invention of his can bo more improbable than reality. Thus a sailor idly cuts his name on a piece of | wood on Spanish shores, and the waves carry it to his sister's feet on tho coast of Orkney. The Duke of Argyll startles a bird which is flying overhead, aud it drops a pine cone at his feet, tho vehicle of a vegetable substance almost un known to science. A lady loses a ring, j and it is found next year by her servant in a potato wuieh sine is peeling. In the ! same way a sportsman Is said to have 1 lost a ring on the moor. Next season he found it in a peat which he broke up and threw on a fire in a cottage. This looks like a "variant" of a fairy tale, but the potato anecdote at least is authentic. The same may be said of the Roman bracelet thrown overboard by its owner in crossing the Firth of Forth and lately discovered by him in a shop, where it was exhibited as a relic of the Roman oconpation. Fishers had dredged it from the deep, as in the case of the ring of Polycrates, which may be a true tala The Inverness ring story has prob ably no evidence but that of tradition. A jeweler's boy dropped into the Ness a diamond ring which he was carrying to a customer. He fled the country, re turned a rich man, and walking by the river he told his tale to a friend. To illustrate it he struck his stick into the shallow water over the gravel, and there, on the tip of the staff, was the diamond ring. Quite recently, it is said, a young lady was traveling in an omnibus. In her purse she had all her portable wealth, threepence in coppers. Near her sat an ill looking man, dirty, wearing a large, shiny ring, which she supposed jto be paste. When she alighted from the omnibus, her purse was gone, her pocket was picked, and she, with confusion of face, had to go on credit for her jour ney. Arrived at home she searched her pocket afresh, and therein was the seedy ' man's shiny ring. Thiswas faircircuru- I stantial evidence against her unknown fellow passenger, but somebody had the curiosity to tako the ring to a jeweler. ! It proved to bo an excellent largo dia j mond, but advertisement did not dis | cover the owner. He had stolen three- I pence and a purse, and had lost a small ' fortune, probably dishonestly acquired, in the process. We would ju:lgc no man f hastily, and there may be some other ■ explanation of the presence of the ring J where no ring should be and tho absence of tho coppers. Such things as these keep occurring. To the disinterested gazo of the science of chances it does not seem odd that they befall; tho miracle would be if they did not befall. For innumerable events are eternally happening, and ac cording to Cocker, extraordinary erentj must necessarily be among them. It would be extraordinary indeed if some events were not extraordinary. Thus, a man puts his name down in the Club Derby Sweep, say, opposite >.'o. t)S. He draws the winner. Next year, coming up late to town, lie finds every number occupied except 68. He puts down his name there, and draws the winner again. The other sportsmen had acted on the converse of the principle of Marryat's middy, who always thrust his head in action through a hole made in tho ship's timbers by a cannon ball, arguing that it would not be pierced twice. These facts of uuurso hit at tho root of the belief in dreams. Thus, a tourist fell asleep at Ventimiglia station, dreamed of 13, hurried back to Mon to Carlo and backed 18 for the maximum. It came up three times run ning, and he was "on" every time. He then, in a brief oration, described the oircumstances and resumed his journey to Italy. This kind cf thing was mathe matically certain to occur one day or other, and the adventurer nicked it But the amateur would be very ill advised who backed his dreams, for of dreams there are millions every night, and nobody can tell whether his vision is the one of the many millions whioh is destined to be fulfilled in a manner that seems extraordinary to the vulgar. The calm observer, when a dream is fulfilled, does not, like the French oaddy at Pau, after a brilliant shot by his em ployer, say "beastly fluke." He only recognizes the inevitable working of the law that out of countless incidents some must be odd. He is convinced that once in a blue moon the dealer must hold all the trumps. This blue moon not infrequently appears in the United States of America, it being "such a large place."—London News. On July 25, 181 ft, an unsuccessful at tempt was made to carry San Sebastian itself by assault. Colin Campbell, with 20 men of the light company of his reg iment, constituted the forlorn hope at the great breach, and on reaching the top he was shot through the right hip and fell to the bottom. Again ascending, he was shot through tho inner part of the loft thigh, and Graham in his dis patch said, "I beg to recommend to yiu Lieutenant Campbell of the Ninth, who led the forlorn hope, and who was se verely wounded in the breach. " In 1857 —viz, 44 years after the siege—Colin Campbell was inspector general of in fantry. "While," said Campbell, "I was in specting the depot at Chichester I no ticed that an old man, evidently an old soldier, though in plain clothes, was constantly on the ground and apparent ly watching my movements. As I was leaving the barrack yard at the end of the inspection ho came toward mo, drew himself up, made the military salute and with much respect said: 'Sir Colin, may I speak to you? Look at me, Bir. Do you recollect me?' I looked at him and replied, 'Yes, I do.' 'What is my name?' ho asked. I told him. 'Ye:;, sir, and where did you last see me?' 'In tho breach of San Sebastian,' I replied, 'badly wounded by my side.' 'Right,; sir,' answered ths old soldier, 'I can tell you something more,' I added, j 'You were No. in tho front rank ; of my company.' 'Right, sir,' said tho. veteran. "I was putting my hand in my pocket to mako tho old man a present, when he j Btepped forward, laid his hand on my ' wrist and said: 'No, sir. That is not] what I want, but you will be. going to j Shorncliffe to inspect the depot there. I have a sou in the Inniskillings quartered at that station, and if you will call him out and tell him that you knew his fa ther that is what I should wish.'"— % taimton Spectator, RATES OF ADVERTISING. Advertisements are inserted at the rates of Y!% cents per line, for the first, and «>, cents for each subsequent insertion. Local Notices are inserted pt r°teof2o cents per line for the flrst, and lb" cents for each subsequent insertion. Busmen Notices are inserted at the rate ot 15 cents for the first and a cents for eech sub sequent insertion. A liberal discount will baCmadeon a 1 orderi for 3, 8, orl2months Obituaries, Announcements of! Candidates ror omee, and uli communications advertSlm 8 °J laracter ' "' ln b " charged for an NO. 39. Amons .. ... -.-.- phrye are "Le D.vo. •:.■;, v. .i ". for her by Enu'o :. ■.., .... .ia which she Will I! I ".. ". .■, • ; . ;. ... ''i'-ii dith 0 ■ ■ . . : ra .j ter of ii.v jn.J beii ;...- .< ,- credit tbly ; : . i jap. ••■•■ The Bernbi rdt, ,-. vioa hard : :. „ t t" during the pi ing among the fisher f rlkol Brittany laid trying in all thinj in I tin mselves. But they >!->■ not tal toner, hhenoticed how dangerous for the tMhernien'aboMlsi the harboa; of Hanson is, and offend to provide tbem v.itii a .stanch craft to bear her name and to be used for life ■tiring. The fishermen replied that theyi were willing to accept the boat, but not if it bore Ihe name of an actress.—San' Francisco ArgOßaat. Hotel Visitor—Now, you are sure this bed is quite clean? Servant—Yes, sir. The sheets were only washed this morning. Just fee) them. They ain't dry yet.—London Tits Bits. BICKLE & HAMRICK UNDERTAKING PARLOR NOS.II AND 13 W. FREDERICK STREET, NEXT TO JESSBB'S We keep constantly on hand »he finest atoek of goods in our line ever seen In the city ol Staunton. All the latest styles and novelties. Calls attended day and night. FUNERAL OUTFITTED In every detail and under careful personal at ten tion BICKLE * HAMRICK mm «-tf No». and W.Frederick St. CHURCH DIRECTORY. First Presbyterian Church, on Frederick Si between New and Market streets, services II a. m. and Bp. m. Pastor, Rev. A. M. Fraber 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 Y. M. C. A. Hall. Services at 11 a. m., and Bp. ra. Rector. Rev. R. C. Jett. Trinity Episcopal church, Main street, be tween Lewis and Church streets. Services at 11 a. m., and Bp. m. Rector, Rev. W. Q. Hul- Uhen United Brethren church, Lewis street, be tween Main and Johnson streets. Services at Ua. m and 3 p. m. Pastor, Rev. J. D Don ovan. Methodist church, Lewis street, between Jlaln 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. in. and 8 p. ni Pastor. Bey. H. F. Shea'.y. Baptist church, cornel .-.lain and Washing ton streets. Services at 11 a. m. and 8 p. m Pastor, Iter. W. J E. Cox. St. Francis Hainan Catholic, North August! street, Muss at T and lO.IJO a. m. Vespers and benediction of Most Blessed Sacrament »t p. m. Pastor, Key. Father McVerrv. Young Men's Christian Association, corner Main and Water streets. Services at 4 p. m. Sanaa . OiRST RY OF LODGES. MASONIC LODGE. Staunton Lodge No. 13, A. F.and A. M., meets every second ciiul last Friday iilj;ht in eacl' month, in Masonic Temple, Main street. Jas M. Uckliter.W. M; li. A. Eskridge, Secy. OHM"" ROYAL ARCH CHAPTER. No. 3, meet third Friday in every month, In Masonic i emple, on Main street. W. W. Mc Gullln, High l'rie-;t; A. A. Eskridge, Secy. ODD FELLOWS' LODGE.; Staunton Lodge, No. 45,1. O. O. F. meets cv cry Thursday night in Odd Fellows' Hall, ove. Wayt's drug store, on Main street. John (" Fretwcll Noble Grand: C. A. Crafton, Sec' KNIGHTS OF HONOB ODOE. Staunton LodfcC. No. 750, of Honor meets every flrst and third Tuesday in each month. In Pythian Hall, Main street. W. L. Olivier, Dictator; w. a. Burnett, Recorder. _ MOUNTAIN CITY LODGE. No. 116,1. O. G. T., meets every Friday night In their lodge room over Wayt's drug store on Main street. A. S. Woodhouse, Chief Templar F. B. Kennedy, Secy. DISTRICT LODGE. No. 22,1. 0. G. T., meets every three montht. S, C. Shlpplett, D. C. T.; S. H. Bauserman District Secretary. ROYAL ARCANUM. Augusta Council, No. 490, Royal Arcanum meets every second and fourth Tuesday in the month, at Pythian Hall, Main street. W. W Robertson, Regent; Jos. B. Woodward, Sec retary. SONS OF TEMPERANCE Charity Division, M. A., Sons of Temperance meets every Monday night at Odd Fellows all. W. A. Rapp, Worthy Patriarch; John B. Coffelt, Secy. UNIFORMED RANK, KNiGHTS OF PYTHIAS. E. B. Stuart Division, No. 10, meets second and fourth Mondays each monta at Pythian Hall. Sir Knight Cantata, F. B. Berkley; S Knight Recorder, S. H. Rcsenbaum. KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAB. Valley Lodge, No. 18, K. of P., moets Monday night at Castle Hall, on West street, over Dr. Way t's drug store. C. T. Ham mond, Chaiv.'ellor Commander; Albea Keeper of Hecords nnd Seal. KNIGHT TEMPLAKS. Staunton Commandery, No. 8, Knights Tora ylar, meets first Friday Bight la every month ;n Masonic Temple, OB Mata street. W. Is. BiS"ii— IWJ r.uii.ieni; ( oaimandtr, A. A. E k rldge. Recorder. ONEIDA TIIIBE. NO. SB, I. O. U. M., Meets in Their wigwam, In Va'.z Quildta.: every Wednesday al v.. run SOth breatl setting of the sin;. J. D Anthony, welter James W. Blackburn, duel ot records. 1 vlsitiUK brother! welcome. AM EK7CAN LEGION OF HONOR. • vuiv. Council I t9 on the first and '■■ Mondays i" th. Cornmi I A.S. Woodhouse; ileci ■•• ; r I •■• ■ ■- i-: ■ HOI H H rBl I ' Meets "rst Sunday In every month in ttM hall on the church lot. M. T. V. Brest ; dent; J. J. Kihralen. llrst vice-president; J. J Murphy, second vice-president; D.J.O'Conneli J recording secretary. "STONEWALL" BRIGADE BAND. I Band meets every Monday and Thursday j orchestra, every Wednesday, at S p. m„ in City : Hall. Mr. J. M. Brereton, director j.'.'. A. Armentrout, president, an 4C. Harry i Haines, secretary. CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. Monthly meetings, Fourth Tuesday In ths month at 7:30 o'clock. Room In City Hal build ng Isaac Wits, presld t; J.C. Shields.sscrs