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KID$A PPED. By ROBERT 1,0IS STEVENSON [comTIm..ED.] CHAPTER XVL THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX. Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with a flshng rod. The next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own !nd was to cross the Linnhe loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him he prevailed on to take me, fgy he was one of his flock, and in this way I saved a long day's travel and the price of the twopublic ferries I must otherwise have It was near noon before we set out; a dark day, with clouds, and the sun shin ing upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had scarce a wave upon it, so that I must put the water to my lips before I could believe it to be truly salt. A little after we had started the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the waterside to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers' coats; every now and then, too, there came little sparks and light nings, as though the sun had struck upon bright steel. I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin against the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen King George's troops, I had no good will to them. At Inst. we name ao near the n.int of land at the entering in of Loch Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman, who was an honest fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist, would fain have carried me on to Bala chulish, but as this was to take me far ther from my secret destination I in sisted, and was set on shore at last un der the wood of Lettermore (or Letter vore, for I have heard it both ways), in Alan's country of Appin. This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny dells, and a road of bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oatbread of Mr. Henderland's and think upon my situation. Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midgies, but far more by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join myself with an outlaw and a would be Amurderer like Alan, whether I should not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south country direct, by my own guidance and at mny own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or even Mr. Henderland would thinl of me if they should ever learn my folly and presumption-these were the doubts that now began to come in on me strong er than ever. As 1 was so sitting and thinking a sound of men and horses came to me through the wood, and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw four travelers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and narrow that they came single and led their hcasee by the reins. The first was a great, redheaded gen tleman, of an imperious ~Ln flushed face, who carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in a breath ing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good odor with the government, since the wearing of tartan was against the act. If I had been better versed in these things I would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle (or Campbell) colors. This servant had a good sized portmanteau strapped on his holse and a net of lem ons(to brew punch with) hanging at the saddlebow, as was often enough the custom with luxurious travelers in that part of the country. As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, and I knew him.at once to be a sherif's officer. I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure, and when the first came alongside of me I rose up from the bracken and asked him the way to Aucharn. He stopped and looked at me, as 1 thought, a little oddly, and then turning to the lawyer, "Mungo," said he, "there's many a man would think this more of a warning than two piats. Here am I on my road to Duror on the job ye ken, and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken and *peers if I am on the way to Aucharn." "Glenure," said the other, "this is an ill subject for jesting." These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two followers had halted about a stone cast in the rear. "And what seek ye in Aucharn?"' said Colin Roy Campbell, of Glenure, him they called the Red Fox, for he it was that I had stopped. "The man that lives there," said L "James of the Glens?" said Glenure mangly, atnd then to the lawyer, "Is he gathering his people, think ye?" r' lr say y,'sa1y the lawyer, "we shall better to bie: where we are and let If, y a oe for me," said I, ~~.~ii4 5~~- s - ~yPUP5 u)t an nonest sunoect or sung *eorge, )wing no man and fearing no man." "Why, very well said," replies the 'actor. "But if I may make so bold as Isk, what does this honest man so far 'rom his country, and why does he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have ower here, I must tell you. I am king's 'actor upon several of these estates and 3ave twelve files of soldiers at my jack." "I have heard a waif word in the :ountry," said I, a little nettled, "that you were a hard man to drive." He still kept looking at me as if in loubt. "Well," said he at last, "your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to plain ness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye godspeed. But today eh, Mungo?" And he turned again to look at the lawyer. But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the hill, and with the very sound of it Glen ure fell upon the road. "Oh, I am deadl" he cried several times over. The lawyer had caught him up and t held him in his arms, the servant stand ing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked from one t to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice that went to the heart. "Take care of yourselves," says he. "I am dead." He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his finger ti slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. The lawyer said never a word, but his t face was as sharp as a pen and as white as the dead man's; the servant broke out into great noise of crying and weep ing, ike a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at them in a kind of horror. The sheriff's officer had run back at the first sound of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses, for he had no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, "The murdererl the murderer!" So little a time elapsed that when I got to the top of the first steepness, and could see some part of the open moun tain, the murderer was still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black coat with metal buttons,and carried a long fowling piece. "Here!" I cried. "I see him!" At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder and began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then he came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like a jackanapes, for that part was again very steep, and then he dipped behind a shoulder, and I saw him no more. All this time I had been running on my side and had got a good way when a voice cried upon me to stand. I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the road, crying and waving on me to come back, and on their left the redcoats, musket in hand, were beginning to strug gle singly out of the lower wood. "Why should I come back?" I cried. "Come yon on!" "Ten pounds if ye take that lad!" cried the lawyer. "He's an accomplice. He was posted here to hold us in talk." At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed it is one thing to stand the danger of your life and quite another to run the peril of both life and character. The thing, be sides, had come so suddenly, like thun der out of a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run and others to put up their pieces and cover me, and still I stood. "Jouk [duck] in here among the trees," said a voice close by. Indeed I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed, and as I did so I heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with a fish ing rod. He gave me no salutation: in deed it was no time for civilities; only "Come!" said he, and settingjf running along the side of the mounitain toward Balachulish, and I, like a sheep, to fol low him. Now we ran among the birches, now stooping behind low humps upon the n ountain side, now crawling upon all fours among the heather. The pace was deadly; my heart seemed bursting against my ribs, and I had neither time to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder that Alan every now and then would straight en himself to his full height and look back, and every time he did so there came a great faraway cheering and cry ing of the soldiers. Quarter of an hour later Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, and turned to me. "Now," said he, "it's earnest. Do as I do for your life." And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we traced back again across the mountain side by the same way that we had some, only perhaps higher, till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of Let termore, where I had found him at the first, and lay with his face in the bracken, panting like a dog. My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth with heat and dryness that I lay beside him like one dead. CHAPTER XVII. I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LET TE.aORE. Alan was the first io come around. He rose, went to the border of the wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. "Well," said he, "yon wasahot burst, David." I said nothing, nor as much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment. The pity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a partof my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated. Here was Alan sknulking in the trees and running from the troops, and whether his was the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood railty in ii "I thank God for that!" crted I. L ne nrs uaegree; I nela mm i norror; I could not look upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle than in that warm wood beside a murderer. "Are ye still wearied?"' he asked again. "No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am not wearied now and I can speak. You and me must twine" [part], I said. "I liked you very well, Alan, but your ways are not mine and they're not God's, and the short and the long of it is just that we must twine." "I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for the same," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anything against my reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, for old acquaintance sake, to let me hear the name of it, and if ye have only taken a distaste to my society it will be proper for me to judge if I'm insulted." "Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon Campbell man lies in his blood upon the road. Do you mean you had no hand in it?" "I will tell you first of all, Mr. Bal four, of Shawvs, as one friend to another," said Alan, "`hat if I were going to kill a gentleman it would not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan. I would not go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing rod upon my back." "Well," said I, "that's true!" "And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it in a certain manner, "I swear upon the holy iron I had neither art nor part, act nor thought in it." "I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand. He did not appear to see it. "And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he. "They are not so scarce that I ken!" "At least," said I, "you cannot justly, blame me, for you know very well what' you told me in the brig; but the temp tation and the act are different.. I thank God again for that. We may all ýe tempted; but to take a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I could say no more for the moment. "And do you know who did it?" I added. "Do you know that man in the black coat?" "I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly; "but it sticks in my head that it was blue." "Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I. "I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "He gaed very elare by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that I should just have been tying my brogues." "Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?' I cried half angered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. "Not yet," says he, "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, David." "And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I, "and that was that yob exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers." ,,-r ~ ~ ~ ~ 1 ..... . f_'. . 9 . ." t_ -. ,,. .: . "It's very likely," said Alan, "and so would any gentleman. You and me were innocent of that transaction." "The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get clear," I cried. "The innocent should surely come before the guilty." "Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled in court; but for the lad that shot the bul let, I think the best place for him will be the heather. Them that have nae dipped their hands in any little diffi culty should be very mindful of the case of them that have. And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be a good deal obliged to him nursel's if he would draw the soldiers." When it came to this I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. Mr. Hen derland's words came back to me-that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wild highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's morals were all tail first; but he was ready to give his life for them, such as they were. "Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I understand it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second time." Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country, he because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched like a chamber and every one obliged to give a good account of himself, and I be cause I was certainly involved in the murder. "Oh," says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fear of the jus tice of my country." "As if this was your country!" said he, "Or as if ye would be tried here, in a country of Stewartsl" "It's all Scotland," said L "Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbell that's been killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the Campbell's head place, with fifteen Campbells in the jury box, and the big gest Campbell of all (and that's the duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? The same justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside." This frighted me a little, I confess. I asked him whither we should flee, and as he told me "to the lowlands," I was d little better inclined to go with him, for indeed I was growing impa tient to get back and have the upper hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in the matter that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths I would truly like least to die by the gallows, and the picture of that uncanny instrument came into my head with ex traorudnary clearness (as 1 had once seen it engraved at the top of a peddler's ballad) and took away my appetite for courts of justice. "nIl chance it, Alan," said L "I'll go with you." "But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and hard and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock's, and your life shall be like the hunted deer's, and ye shall sleep with your hand upon your weapon. Aye, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot or we get clear. I tell ye this at the start, for it's a life that I ken well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have I answer nane< Either take to the heather with me or else hang." "And that's a choice very easily made," said I, and we shook hands upon it. "And now let's take another keek at the redcoats," says Alan, and he led me to the northeastern fringe of the wood. Looking out between the trees we could see a great side of mountain run ning down exceeding steep into the wa ters of the loch. It was a rough part, all hanging stone and heather and bie scrags of birchwood; and away at the far end toward Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath was left them, but they still stuck to the trail and doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. Alan watched them, smiling to him self. "Aye," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to the end of that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite and breathe a bit longer and take a dram from my bottle. Then we'll strike for Aucharn. the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must get my clothes and my arms and money to carry us along, and then, David, we'll cry 'Forth, For tune!' and take a cast among the heath. So we sat again and eat and drank in a place whence we could see the sun go ing down into a field of great, wild and houseless mountains, such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat- and partly afterward, on the way to Au charn, each of us narrated" his adven tures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan's as seems either curious or needful. It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed, saw me and lost me, and saw me again as 1 tumbled in the roost, and at last haE one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all and made him leave these clews and mes sages which had brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of Appin. In the meanwhile those still on the brig had got the skiff launched and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would certainly have sent her to the bottom had she not struck and caught on some pro. jection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had been bows on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was thrown in the air and the bows plunged under the sea, and with that the water began to pour into the fore scuttle like the pouring of a milldam. It took the color out of Alan's face, even to tell what followed. For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks, and these, seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one after an other into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were not two hundred yards away when there came a third great sea, and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef, her canvas filled for a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing her, and the sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the horror of that screaming, but they had scarce set a foot upon the beach when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment, but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and drowning all their comrades, and that here were both revenge and wealth upon a single cast. It was seven'hgainst one. In that part of the shore there was no rock that Alan could set his back to, and the sailors began to spread out and come behind him. "And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head-I have naemind of the name he is called." "Riach," said L "Aye," said Alan, "Riach!t Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and says he, 'Dod, I'll put my back to the hielandman's mysel'.' That's none such an entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head," said Alan. "He has some spunks of decency." "Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way." "And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, 1 found his way a very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these poor lads sat very ill upon the man, and I'm thinking that would be the cause of it." "Well, I would think so," said I, "for he was as keen as any of the rest at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?" "It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan. "But the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together." "What do you mean by that?" said L "Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and 1 saw one man go down like a pair of breeks. But Ithought it would be nae better to wait. Ye see, there's a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull which is no good company for a gentle man like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have waited and looked for ye mysel', let alone given a hand to the little man." It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for, to say the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other. "So," says he, continu ing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I metin with amz one I Cried out tlere was a wrec easnore. man, they dianae stop to fash with melt ou should have seen them linking for he beach! Anil when they got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a Campbell. I'm thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went dawn in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for you, that same, for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted high and low and would soon have found ye." [TO BE CONTINUED.] M'ELROY'9 STORIES. Two Good Ones Told by an After Dinner Speaker. W. H. McElroy, who used to be presidlent of the Union College alumni, is a brilliant after dinner speaker and story teller. He tells a capital story about a young man named Augustus, and he tells it in about this way: A young man by the name of Augustus was struggling along in the world of let ters. Augustus had a leaning toward po etry. At an evening party he was called upon to repeat a poem. The lady of the house had never been refused before. But he said: "I cannot. Something has occurred in my career which makes it absolutely im possible for me to repeat a poem here." They adjourned to the conservatory, and he told her the reason. "I am, my dear lady," he said, "of a philosophical turn of mind. One day last week I wrote a poem entitled 'Why Do I Live?' It was a subject that interested me deeply. I spent anxious hours over it in the still watches of the night and produced a poem that satisfied even me. I sent it to a newspaper. There was no response. The third and fourth days came and went, and yet no response. At the end of the fifth day, still anxious, I saw a notice at the top of the column ad dressed to correspondents. It was to Au gustus: 'Augustus, you want to know why you live. You live, Augustus, because you mailed that poem and did not bring it in person."' Another of Mr. McElroy's stories relates to acoustics. Up in central New York there is a pretty little village in whidh is to be found a public hall whose acoustic properties are about as bad as can be.' One evening a good natured man residing inthe village was informed by his wife when he came home to dinner that she had made an engagement for him to accompany her to a lecture which was to be delivered in this unfortunate hall. The lecturerwas known to both of them as a bore of the first water, who never knew anything and never would. So the man said to his wife, "Why, Alice, what in the world induced you to get tickets for such an infliction?" His wife replied that she had met the lecturer in the afternoon, and he had l oked so forlorn and asked her in such anxious tones if she was coming to the lecture that her sympathies were aroused, and she re sponded that both she and her husband would surely be there. After the lecture, as they were walking home, Alice had something to say of the vile acoustics of the hall. "Well, now, Alice," replied her husband, "I cannot agree with you. It struck me that the acoustics were entirely satisfactory-why, I couldn't catch more than one word in twenty that the blanked fool said."-New York World. a Street Tragedy. Grimesy-I'm pinin away for chestnuts an I ain't got a cent. Grigsy-Well, I'll tell yer what- [Whis pers.] Grimesy-Large measure, now. [Grigsy says nothing, but is active.] THE WAGON STARTS. "THE WORLD IS MINE." --Harper's Bazar. 6000 Tll1lus + +a 601116 fill fit 0116 Just the same way with stories. We have concluded arrangements for exclusive publication in these columns of .. . Six DeligtIful Jovelettes. -------------- r { These stories are all by noted authors, and will ap pear in no other paper here about. Lest you should miss this treat it will be well to slg~:uisenatvlw EURE5 ALL 5KIN AND BLOOID DIEASE5 aod prescotbe It with great eatlahotlon for the cores of al asnd staaa o a mand Chroolo Ulcers that have restleed tall treatment, Caa-, INN C CURES Ir.r .Y. [0 P016011 Dnrlal] Poison tt, Salld H .eal, 0 e l et . P. P.P. h a Ee tol to eacalnt u ngnteelemlrnp y Ladled. whose aylnem are poisoned end whore blood lI In an impure ondton, due to s al t r e re nltl a kr °°CRES puooIrly boenfite d Dy te ton blood a.S..ug proPltik of P. P. P., Prijy A, Poeb oot A1 I bPPA.tE BROS., PrOpioetousa Druggista, Ll.pisan'sBlock, SAVAIHAB, QA. Sold by F. E. BAILEY, Opelousas. Sold by F. E. BAILEY, Opelousas. For S9 orTrade. -o A LARGE HANDSOME TROTTING STA.LLXIO T, Black Cloud Jr., Sired by Black Cloud, record 2:17%, Sire of Black Cloud Jr., 2:25. First dam by Marshall Chief 483, Sire of Dr. Lewis, 2:25, And the dam of A. V. Pantlind 2:20, " " " Betsy Ann 2:22, " " " Georgia 2:28. Second dam, Thoroughbred. Black Cloud 158 by Ashland Chief 757, Sire of Black Cloud 2:17, " Blue Cloud 2:57, Ashland Kate 2:29. Black Cloud Jr. is coal black, 15 hands 3 inches high, both hind feet white, foaled in 1884, perfectly sound; don't need any boots, weights or shoes or any other apph ances, to make him trot. He is not a made trotter, but a natural born one. He is as handsome, stylish and as grand a horse as I know of; is perfectly gentle in and out of harness; and safe for anyone to drive on road or track, with or without blinds. He should more than pay for himself this spring in the stud, and win himself clear this fall. I will sell Black Cloud Jr. for cash, or part time, on appoved paper; or take in part pay, sheep, cattle or hogs. Also for sale, an extra arge Jack, KILRAIN. fe is an extra good one; I don't know of a better one in this country; perfectly sound, a sure foal getter, and the best of performers; foaled in 1885, and acclimated. Will sell him for cash, or trade for sheep, cattle, etc. Address ROBT. L. HARVEY, Sunset Stock Farm, Sunset P.O., St. Lan dry Parish, La. P. S.-They can be seen at my farm. dec31 tf ROBERT CHACHERE, -DEALER IN General Merchandise. Groceries, Plantation Supples, Hardware, Crockeryware, Tin Ware, Kitcken outfits at a bar gain, Liquors of all brands. Shoes for Farmers that wifP keep out the dirt in plowing. My Stock is large and will be sold very CHEAP. Come And see it. oct11 HENRY KAHN. LAZARE LEVY Kahn & Levy, WHOLESALE CROCERS, -ANDi- Commission Merchants, 111 & 118 Poydras St., P. O. Box 1059. NEW ORLEANS, LA. Best attention paid to purchasing Goods of all kinds. Consignments of Cotton, Su gar Molasses, Rough Rice, Hides, Wool and all Country Produce respectfully so licited. oct25 tf STRANCERS' HOTEL, 181 Chartres Street, lew Orleans, La. BOARD AT REASONALE RATES, By the Day, Week or Month. Rl..OOMVS TO LEIT, (With or without Board.) GENERES & GAUDET, aug8 ly Proprietors. JOHN N. OGDEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW,` OPELOUSAS, LA., Practices in St Landry and adjoining parishes. After an experience in criminal business of eight years, as District Attor ney, he now of ers his services in the de fense of criminjt cases, which willbe made a specialty. july23 6m ".OR, SALE.-10,000 CYPRESS TREES 1' fro.s'~ to miles of Bayou Qori.tab leau; good outlet to float to aid bayou. Also, ar eat quantity of Ash0ak ad ed Oa~f laeatii~8 tO 'dm61ias Im HOMIETEAD iOn arE" . NOTICE.-Land Office at New Orleans, January 9th, 189&3-Notice is hereby give that the following-named settler haa filed notice of his intention to make fnal proof in support of his claim, and that said. poof will be made before B. Bloomfield, U. S. Commissioner, at Opelousas, on Monday'f February 20th, 1893, viz: Auguste Frt.g, fils who made homestead entry No. 9212 for the SW¼ sec 32, Tp 6 S, R 1 ELa. iner. He names the following witnesses to prove his continuous residence upon and culti vation of, said land, viz: Onizippe Ledoux, Frangois Ledoux, MartinirCarron Louis Courville, all of St. Landr h parish a. CHARLES R. PALF RY, jan14 6t Register. NOTICE.-Land Office at New Orleans, Jan. 20th, 1892.-Notice is hereby given that the following-named settler has filed no tice of his intention to make final proof in support of his claim, and that arid proof - will be made before B. Bloomfield,-U. S. Commissioner at Opelousas, on Monday, March 6th, 1893, viz: Napoleon Douget who made homestead entry No. 9881 for the NW fractional % sec 25 Tp 6 S, R 2 W La. mer. He names the following witnes ses to prove his continuous residence upon and cultivation of, said land, viz: UIger. Vidrlne, Gervais Fontenot, Jessy Young Br, Stelly Vidrine, all of St. Landry parish, La. CHARLES C. PALFREY, jan28 6t Register. WHITE is KinQ THE EASIEST SELLING. THE BEST SATISFYING SEWING MACHINE IN THE WORLD. 1000 Agents Wanted. WRITE FOR TERMS, ADDRESS, 111te sewjl 1h1fiR Ge. CLEVELAND, OHIO, or S. B. KIRBY, LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS, Chas. N. Ealer, Opelousas, agent for the. parish of St. Landry. SHERIFF'S SALE. J. MEYERS & CO. VS. LEON BOURQUE. No. 15,163 IN THE 11T JUDICIAL DIsrazor COURT, PARISH OF ST. LA1NDRY, LA. By virtue of a writ of seizure and sale is-, sued out of the Honorable Eleventh Judi cial District Court in and for the parish of St. Landry, in the above entitled and nuin bered case, and to me directed, I have seiz ed and I will proceed to sell at public ate tion, to the last and highest bidder, at the front door of the Court House in the town.: of Opelousas, La., on Saturday, IMarch 11th, 1893, at 11 o'clock a. m., the following described property, to-wit: A certain tract or parcel of land situatedd on Bayou Plaquemine in this parish, con taining thirty arpents, more or less, boun ded on the north by Julienne Prevotwid ow Bourque, on th'e east by sams, on the south by land of Octave Richard, and on the west by Bayou Plaquemine, being, the-' . same property purchased by thesaid le~on Bourque from Charles Boui~qUeDec. 29th, 1891, as pef act of sale recorded in convey ance-book B No. 3, pages 19 and 20, Clerk's office, St. Landry parish, La. Seized in the above entitled suit. Terms--Cash. T. 8. FONTENOT, feb4 6t Sheriff Parish of St. Landry. Notice of Dissolution. The firm of Clements & Wilson having dissolved, S. Joseph Wilson is entitled to collect all debts due said firm and is ret ponsible for all debts. [g ENTd " S. JOB. WILSON. In retiring from the firm of Clements d 'Wilson I take pleasure in recommending my partner, S. J. Wilson, to the public, and solicit for him a continuance of the gene--r ous patronage bestowed on the firm of: Clements & Wilson. . E.J. CLEMENTS. ,( Opelousas, Feb'y 4th, 1893. 3St A. J. BERCIER, Office, corner Landry and Union streets, next to J. Meyers & Co. octl lv OPELOUSAS, LA. B. M. HULSE, - Attorney & Counsellor at Law', OPELOUSAS, LA. Office on Bellevue Street, Opposite the Market House. F. J. PULFORD, OPELOUSAS, LA. WD Office on Main street, next to the. residence of Mr. D. Roos. apll tf HENRY L. GARLAND, JR.~ Attorney at Law and Notary Public, 18 COMMERCIAL PLACiE, Naw OsLZANs, LA. sept17 tf TiOR RENT.-THE HOUSE RECENT I ly occupied by Austin Laoomb on Mainstreet. Forterms, apply to jan7 2t Mas. WI. A ROBERT.ON. NOTICE To Pnrchbasers at Sherifft's Ta Sa3e. Sherit' Tax Sales legally drawn upand recorded at a moderate compenaion b 'y BEN. BLOOMFIELD, 1 dec3 tf Notary PubIlc, - IOR SALE.-A pair of young mules, 1? gentle to harness App.ly to A. U. fLAVERGN, . jan28 if Grand Prairia. FOR SALE-500 barrels of corn and five - tons of Southern Hope cotton 8seLi: .b Sjan28-1m . Grand Cotesa, La. PuTBICO NOTICE.-Notice Is hegbj y agiven that the undersigned, convictei:d at the Iat term of the District Curtlofpetil larceny, will apply for a pardo.n. .-febll4t V " LLE - amMA fe -+4v2€+:: eA"