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About Nebraska advertiser. (Brownville, Nemaha County, N.T. [Neb.]) 1856-1882 | View Entire Issue (April 29, 1880)
rjm H7fFur: -A - m " THE ADVERTISER THE ADVERTISER B.Tr.TJMXKJtOTHXt. T.C.71CXZX. FAIRBROTIIER Jc DACRER, F"sHwhrr-. Proprietors . O. TT. rAIBESDTKKB. -tf, c. EAC1EES. FAIRBROTttER &. HACKER, Pnbllalicre and Proprietor. A'BTMTBWft RAT EB . Ob c iaei, on y1 Published Every Thursdaylftorning AT BftOWUVILLE. tfEBUASKA. 10 CO soo 100 Each saeeeedlas Inch-, per-yeaK- Ob lads, pr raontb- Sacs addltieaal Inch, per xaoat's. fERJIS, !' ADVANCE: Lejal-adTertUeseats at legal rates- Oae aquar Oncoqpy, oneyear dre copy, six montlii. -S3 OO (lOUneBof JJoBpareJl.orlwa)fflrtlasertloB,J.OO each SQbaeBsntlns ertles. 50c. MET All traaaieatadrerttasaaeHta stoat tie paid forts advaaea. OFFICIAL PAPER OF TKECOrffTT One copy, three mouths- 50 eg" opaporscntfromtheofBceantnp&ldtLT. ESTABLISHED 1856. j Oldest Paper in the State. J 3R0WNVILLE, NEBRASKA, THURSDAY, APRIL 29, 1880. VOL. 24.-NO, io. RE.UHXG MATTER ONETETtTPAGE M bk Jflltjltf j'ji 4lh4 jT. S. ' III --" in I - " ' I I I I T I - l i OFFlCtAI. DIKECTORT. District Offioora. B.B.PfrtJVD i i u a ge. Dlstrla Attorney . J)lstrlct Cleric WLiI& it hotver Co-antT Officers. Tnirv K.STUM. .tnmyjuaKe HAM'I.CCInr.RTSON-.-. A. lI.nlt.MORE . J. M. KLETKN-EIt II H.PARKER- Clert and Recorder ..Treaur,r . Sberlfl Coronet PHI MFCRQTJtEiL. .."LScnool Superintendent .Surveyor TOjINTLBlinnK. l tmv rr WirtT.VAN V ..Commissioners FBiJiS REDFERK ) City Oiflcors. J. I..CARSOS ft. A. CECIL j . n.norKEK K. A.ORORV, lTavnr -Police Judce Clerk .Treasure Marsha J, G. RUiStL.1... COCKCILSTEK. W. HA-CKN'EY.l JOSEPH KoDY.l" A. RQBISON A.H. OII.MOUEj " c. fEimiAnTi l:. HL'OriART. lstWard 2nd Ward .3rd Ward 3TJSINESS CARDS. T H. BROADY, tj . ........ miH Counselor at LftWi UWcvDverStato Bank.BrownvlUOeh. Q A.. OSHORX. Ot ATTORNEY AT LAW. oaice. o. 1 5Tm street, Rrownvlle. Neb J S. HOLLADAY, A. Pliyalclan, SnrReon, Obstetrician. OradBairt In M.I. ICRt-d In Brownvllle 155o. Offlce,! Mitai street, Brownvllle,eb. STULL & THOMAS. ATTORXEVS AT LAW. OfSce over Theodore Hill &. Co.'s store. Brown vril.Xeb. T1 L. SCHTr-K. - 1. ATTORM5V ATLAW. Omee nver j. I McOeeA llro'sstore.Brownvllle, Xdniska. T. ROGERS. Attorney ail Comnrloratljaw. WllliclvpdIliKeBtattentUjn to Rnyle?albuJness PHirHMeritohlRcnre. Office In the Roy building, HrwnvlHe.Jsob. y W. GIBSON, IlLACIwSMITIl AXD HOUSE SHOER Werkdone to order itnd satlnracthin guaranteed First stret, between Main and Atlantic, Brown vllle.Neb. AT. CI, INK, FASUlOWni.E n-fn- J BOOT AM) SHOE MAKER F CUSTOM WORK m.let order, and (Its alway Kiurastccd. Repair'nit fy il promptly done fJbop. X.CT .Main Mreet. BrowHVllle.lv eb. TACOB MAROHS, MERCHANT TAILOR, and dealer In r,liwEnpliii.F,iwi. Srnieli and Fanry Cloths VestlnsK. Ktr..r.tr. Rrowiiviile. ICcbrasIift. B. G. WH1TTEN10RE. DKALEP. IN GROCERIES, rViPROVISTONSr SEWING MACHINES SUWIXG M.ICHIXE r.EPAIUS X SPECIALTY, wHIrmy thelilsrbest market price for scrap Iron and rags. Main St., West KrowMVllle. 1) M. BAILEY, siurrcRAKD uK.vr.mt ix LIVE STOCK JillO WV1LLE, NEHRASKA. Farmers, please call and get prices ; I want to handle your stoclr. Ofil.5 First Mntlnnal Hank. C MiAULES HELMEU, - FASH I ON AHL.E WXSbS iWWW mm wiivw rss?i: ', V IlnvltiR bought the cuk- jNd torn shop oi A. Komson. isr I am nremreil to do work pfjsmfizifl oi an Kiiiusui. liybSSC rt .U1n CAfnx - LZtBELU- . .....-., . - - ' nHLisuiiauic naics. -U-pilrliic neatly and prompllydone. fZ Shop o. c-Jiiainaireei, Mr own ville, Yehvaska. Hambletonian Stallion McMAHON. Recorded in Wallaces Trotting Reg ister and Brnco's American Trotting Stud Book. Dark bay horse, property of Holladny i Co.. bretl by Gen. W. T. Withers. Lexington, Kr slnil by Administrator, record J:29U, boh of UvMlykVIliunblctoulan.SIreof Dex tnr recinl il7'4': nrst dam of AIcMuhon, Mnitie West, by Almoi. son of Alexander's Abdallab. sire of GoldsmlUi ilnld, record til- seoond dam Mouof-ram, Membrlno toiler, slro of IrfiilyThoru, record 2:1 Si. For extended pedleree, and other informa tion, call on or -uldres. . tiEO H.VTCIIETT, Ilrownvlllo, Nebraska. "L. TP .tstf DLUv We Msan Cured, Not Merely Relieved Anil ji;j " rare What xvc Claim. INF" Tlif r- ar.- no f.iiltircniil tioHal-p4itittm.-itt.-v. II jcu sre trtmttlril rttli SltTL i:t.A II VCIt K .inu ran ln'raxllj anil ijuiclilT rttrrd. ;i'liiimlt--U Inut been nlrrai!. XI n ultall Ik- plralto malla ilit-rt ! ieytiuoiiinl "to any lnlcrcateU. CARTER'S LITTLE LIVER PILLS Also cure al! foi!jorB.l!omn-v.prcventConstI-,i " a' ' V- i ?.a. proa otc Iifcstion. relievo itirs.imiii i.m liearty eatins. correct Dl-orders f thi- -!-ii, l. -Simulate the Urer.anil lU?u laU'ih B Ark Tliiydoall Una 1 lakincjnn i.t.i.. u.i j:i itiiw Tlu'vaiv tmrvi VM.f. I4e. ! cnju-ttr p-irc. .nd f.r at m-arly jt- ' fi! mil t w " I1 lii" ' Price Si cents, ( ifurtt - i - " .i. ri-or-t bjf majl. , cATivr' hm: Cl EKIE. PA- ' Sold by A. W. Nickel!. 27yl. JOYFUL I?er forBoyi and GlrliM Totmc and Old!! A NEW IN VENTION jut patented for thezu. for Home ue ! Tret and Scroll Sawing, Tnmms:, Boring. DrUlisg.unndim;, Polrehios, Screw Catting. lrioe 55 to fSO. Send C ce.ut( for itv wye?. EPHRAIM .BROWN, Lowell, 11m t. JfUlSffl 1 aMiJAtHE Nerras Sufferers-Toe Great European Eeai-eij-Br.J.B.Sunpson'B Specific If idicine. It is a positive cuje for Spermatorrhea, Seminal weakness, Impotency, and all diseases resulting from elf-abue.as befobe. aftkb, mental anxiety, loss ot memory. Pains in Back or sldp.nnd diseases Uiat lead to con-EUmptlon.lnsani-ty and an early crave. The 8pe clflc Medicine is beinar used with . wonderful success. Pamphlets Gent free to all J "Write for them and cet full particulars. Price. I gpecllic. J1.00 jmt packase, or six packages for $ M CO..NOH. 101 and lOG.Maln strePt.lluirlo.K. Y. Cirsoid In Brownville by A. Y Jflckell.6yl-al AUTHOHIZED BY THE U. S. G0YEKXMEXT. Firs! National Bank OF. BKOWNVXLIiE. Paid-K2 Capital, $50,000 Authorized " 500,000 18 PREPARED TO TRANSACT A General Banking Business BUY AND SEI.I. COIN & CUBEENCY DRAFTS on all the principal cities of the United States and Europe MONEY LOANED On approved security only. Time Drafts discount ed. and special accommodations crranted to deposit rs. Dealers In GOVERNMENT BONDS, STATE, COUNTY & CITY SECURITIES 'DEPOSITS Received payable on demand. and INTEREST al lotted on time certificates of deposit. DIRECTORS. Wm T. Den. B. M. Bailey. M. A Hundley. Frank E. Johnson, Luther lloadley Wm. Fratsher. JOHN L. CARSOX, A . R. DAVISON. Cashier. I. CMcNAUOHTON.Asst. Cashier. President. ESTABLISHED TN 1856. OLDEST ESTATE A-GElSrCY I3N" NEBRASKA. -William H. Hoover. Docs a j-eneral Real Estate Bnslness. Sells Lands on Commission, examines Titles, mukos Deeds, MortKtges, and all Instru ments pertaining to tlie transfer of Real Es tate. Has a Complete Abstract of Titles to all Real Estate In Nemaha County. JLt, Tlie GROCERY AND PROVISIO J STORE OF T. 1- Jones Is the place to get Groceries, JProvisions. Confections, Film Cigars, Toilet Soap, Canned Goods, JPrcsJi Butter, JEtc, Etc., JEtc. We also keep all the best brands olj nour, nnn everytninc usually Kepi in a first class grocery store. j We have In con nection with our house a first class FEED STORE T0TFr PILLS INDORSED BY , PHYSICIANS, CLERGYMEN AND THE AFFLICTED EVERYWHERE. THE GREATEST MEDICAL TRIUMPH OF THE AfiE. TMTTC DII I PI IIk- 'rvTr bM nc I U I I O J IL f.llccedcdincomWnincln CURE SICKHEUMCHE. l&icquaSl TUTT'S PILLS tics of a SwirNtmiiN-a, Fcroative. and aPt mrriNa Tonic, v CURE DYSPEPSIA. TUTT'S PILLS CURE CONSTIPATION. TUTT'S PILLS CURE PILES. Thoir first apparent effect is to increase tlia appetito by causing the food to "properly as similate Tims the sys tem is nonrishtd, end by their tonic action oa tfic diirestive orssma. I regular and healthy e Bvacuatioca arc pro TUTT'S FILLS duced. The rapiditr mth tvhich PERSONS TAKt CURE FEVER AND AGUE ON FLESH whuc under TUTT'S PILLS CURE BILIOUS CCUC. TUTT'S PILLS ue inuaence ot thue Sills, indicates their n aptsbllity to nourish the bodv, hence their cfflcacvln curing ner vous flebiiity, metan choly, dyspepsia, wast- Cure KIDNEY Complaint TUTTSPILLS wsef tue muscicius- gighness of: the liver, chronic cocstipstion, and imparting health & strength to the system. Sold evcrjTvhcre. Price 23 cent. O&ce 53 Murray Street, KEWYORS. CURE TORPID LIVER. TUTT'S PILLS WPART APPETITE. TTCTC For a11 D'seaaea or Hie Turoat UOJu anil Lnut;i the GHEEN MOUNTAIN Vbed In private practice since. 1835. Putberore the public In iS69.nriTTrTT It NEVER FAILS!! UUU IXXl Price. 2.5c, 50c and SI. SAMPLE BOTTt.ES lO Cents. AlldrucElsiskeepitforMileiQ TQa TUT Road our guarante,nmonK-"-"iA-'iJ XXXKA l)cals. 0e (j Day & Braokott. Sole Proprietors, Kansas City, Mo. 39m3 T ETTER HEADS, m BILL HEADS , Neat v printed atthltoaice. 18w 4?) HEEw-Iffii j- aiEELihfc- A SISTEE'S YENGENCE. It wiis between the lights on a gloomy December afternoon. I was the sole occupant of the smoMng-room of a "Literary and 'Artistic Club" which faces the Thames. I flung fresh coal on the gloomy embers, and stirred them till they set up a blaze of light that drove the ghosts out of the shad owy corners, and then picked up a pa per haphazard from the table, to daw dle over it till the waiter lighted the gas or some human being wandered in to keep me company. It was an Amer ican paper. Some visitor to the club had left it behind him, accidentally. I turned the pages listlessly, until sud denly my attention was arrested by a paragraph headed "Extraordinary Crime.' It was the storv of the rob bery of a body of a lady from its grave. The Avhole affair was shrouded in mys tery. On the 14th of the month there died in an American city the beautiful wife of an Englishman traveling for pleasure. In the same paper which contained tliis paragraph I found un der the heading of "Cradle, Altar, Tomb," the following: "On the 14th inst., in this citj", Drusilla, the beloved wife of Blissett Emerton, of London, England, aged twenty-four." In due course the poor lady was buried, and during the night the churchyard was entered and the coffin carried away. 2So motive is suggested in this Ameri can paper for the crime. The husband is interviewed at his hotel. lie is in consolable for the loss of his beautiful young wife mad with mingled rage and horror at the desecration of her re mains, lie tells his story to the re porter. He had only been married a few months. They were traveling for pleasure in America. His poor wife caught a cold a fortnight since, Tetum ing from the theater. He had medical advice, but the cold increased and in flammation of the lungs set in, and soon all wjis over. He buries his head in his hands and weeps, and the re porter leaves him alone with his sac red sorrow. The account in the paper I was reading by the fire-light con cludes thus: "TJp to the present no clue to this mysterious affair has been obtained." I glanced at the date of the paper, and flung it down with disgust. It was two years old. I had grown in terested in "the affair, and here it was two years old already, and probably forgotten. "Where should I find out how it ended? The shadows had grown darker and darker; the fitful flare of the fire had died down into a dull red glow, and the riverside lamps were being lit. I flung myself back in to the easy chair, thrust my hands in my pockets, and half closed my eyes. Suddenly I wjis aware that I was not alone inthe room. From the darkest corner there rose a long black figure. It glided slowly toward me. 1 had placed the paper where I found it, on the table, by my side. The figureseem ed to be looking for something. It passed its hands over the tables and peered down among the papers. Pres ently it came to the table at my elbow. In tlie gloom, as I sat in the deep arm chair, I believe I was almost invisible. The figure came right up to me, and, reaching out its hand, passed it over my table. Presently it seized some thing, and glided away with it to the, window, on which the lamps without flung a flicker of light. Then I saw that it was a man, and that in his hand he held the American paper in which I had just read the account of a mysteri ous crime. He glanced at it, and mut tered something that sounded like, "How careless of me!" then folded the paper, thrust it into his breast pocket, and walked out of the room. Hardly had the door closed behind him when the attendant came in with lights. "Who is that gentleman who has just gone out?" I said. "Don't know his name, sir. Ain't seen him here often." I remembered that at this club every member had to sign his name in a daily book kept in the hall for that purpose. I ran down stairs, and looked at the open leaf to see if it would afford me any clue. The first name that caught my eye was that of Blissett Emerton. Xo wonder the figure I had seen in the darkness had been so anxious to find that paper. I saw at once what had happened. He had been in the room reading, fancying himself alone. He had laid the paper down thought lessly and dropped off to sleep. J had not noticed him in the gloom, and he was quite unaware of my presence. One thing more I did before I left. I turned over the members' address book, and looked under the E's. There I found the name of "Blissett Emer ton," and against it "Xo. 7 Blank Court, Temple." Soon afterward I found time to dine at the club, and thpre I met an old friend of mine, a barrister, whom Iliad not seen for a year, who after dinner invited ine to come to his chambers for an hour. "Still in your old diggings then," I said. "Oh, no," he answered. "I've moved since I saw you last, into anoth er set. I've got capital chambers at Xo. 7 Blank Court." I asked him at once if he knew 3Ir. Emerton. "Only by sight," he answered. "He has chambers on the same fioor,andwe pass on the landing. We never speak." I stayed longer than I meant to, and it was striking two as we camp out on the landing. The outer door of Mr. Emerton's chamber was ajar. As we passed the inner door opened, and a man rushed out with a scared white face. It was Blissett Emerton! "Help!" he cried, tearing at his col lar as though it chocked him. "Help! help !" Tlien there was a strange gurg ling noise in his throat, and he fell for ward in a fit. I dragged him into his chambers, which were in total dark ness, and laid him on the floor, bidding my friend run for a doctor at once. The man babbled in his frenzy: "The face," he cried, "the face it was her fact there in the court below! Look between the trees!" I looked out into the court. The moon was tin, and among the trees near the fountain I could see the figure of a woman. She was in deep black, and as presently she stood where the trunk of the tree threw her white face into relief, I could see that she was looking toward the window. Prob ably she mistook my figure blotted against the window for that of Emer ton's, for as I looked she raised her arms with a strange menacing gesture and pointed at me. Then she glided in among the trees and was lost to sight. The doctor came, examined Emerton, and prescribed for him. "He'd had a violent fright," he said, "but he'll be all right by and by. It's more hysteri cal than anything else. "Where are his friends?" If I wanted to learn something of this man's strange story, what could I wish for better than anight alone with him. The doctor gave me certain di rections and left. We had carried Emerton to his bed room and put him on the bed. Seeing he was still, I went into the front room, piled up the fire, put on the ket tle, f oimd some whisky, lit my pipe, and prepared for the night. I had just turned the burner down when I be came aware of a soft grating sound at the outer door. Some one was softly opening the outer door with a key. The gas was low down. Hurriedly I picked up my overcoat and other traces.of my presence and flung them under the large couch at the end ot tne room, it was an old-fashioned sofa with a hang ing valance which, reached to the ground. I then crept underneath and wiuted for the curtain to rise on the drama. I had hardly got into a soft po sition when the outer dooryielded, and I heard a step in the passage that in tervened. Then the outer door was gently closed. I expected to see the in ner door open in its turn and some one enter. The minutes went by, and no one came. Whoever it might be was in the passage. I could hear a slight movement even' now and then, and the rustle of a woman's dress. It must have been quite ten minutes since I heard the outer door opened when I noticed that the inner one was swing ing noislessly back on its hinges, and something was gliding into the room. Slowly it moved across the floor till it stood right in the dim light of the turned-down gas. I shall never forget the terrible sight that met my eyes. I would have screamed, but my tongue remained glued to my mouth. I was looking at a dead woman risen from the grave. Her face had been beautiful in life; now it w;is ashen gray. The eyes were sunken in their sockets, and her lips were pale and colorless. The figure was draped in a long white shroud, and I fancied that the room was heavy with the awful odor of an open grave. Slowly the phantom moved toward the next room and glided in. For a mo ment all was still. Then came a faint cry. The man was awake and alone with the apparition. "Drusilla!" he shrieked. "Mercv! merev! Have mer cy!" I heard a hollow voice answer him, "Rise and follow me." "What would you have with me?" "Confess." "What shall I eonfess?" answered the wretched man, his voice trembling in an agony of fear. "Confess the foul wrong you did me. Confess where my poor body lies, that it may be buried in holy ground." Again the man's trembling voice wailed out, "I will confess all." "Follow me!" The apparition glided from the inner room, and the man followed her. The dead woman pointed to the table where the pen and ink were, and the man obeved her gesture mechanically. "Write all!" I could see from a rent in the valance the whole scene. Tlie man, white with terror, the beads of cold perspiration on his brow, sat and wrote. The apparition glided behind him and looked over his shoulder. Once he paused in his task. "Write all" said the white figure. And again the man wrote. The figure then grasped the paper with its waxen fingers. "Go!" it said, pointing to the inner room. AVith his eyes fixed upon its livid face, the man backed slowly for some paces. With a violent effort and a lit tle scream, he seized the door, swung it to, and bolted it on the inside Then, for the first time, the dead wo man trembled. She seemed strangely nervous and agitated now. She clasped the paper closely, then put it in her bosom, and glided from the room. I had got over the sudden terror in spired by such a strange sight, and had made up my mind that I had detected some terrible imposture There was a slight pause in the lobby, and the noise of a garment being drawn off; then the outer door opened and the visitant passed out on the stair-case. I followed as quietly as I could. The staircase was lighted with gas. As I trod on the second landing the ghost heard the noise and looked up. She was dressed in an ordinary black cos tume now, and her face was a natural color. To my intense surprise she neither screamed nor attempted to run aw.iv. She stood still, and beckoned me to her side. "What are you going to do?" she said. "To give you into custody." "Are you'a friend of . ?" "I answered "Yes," mechanically. "Then let me go free if you value his life" "If I let you go I am your accom plice," I murmured; "your accomplice in some vile imposture." "Xo. If you are my accomplice to night, you are the accomplice in the holiest' deed a woman ever wrought. Pass me through tlie gates if you doubt me; watch me; follow me home; give me into custody if you like; 1 don't care, I've got what I wanted." 1 took her arm as though I had been a policeman, and said: "Pass through the gate, then, and if you attempt toget away from me 1 shall call for help." She nodded to the proposition. The man at the gate was half asleep. I roused him, and from his box he pulled the cord and let us pass through the wicket door into the strand. I then listened to the strangest story that ever mortal lips had uttered, anil there was no doubt that even- word of it was true. The confession which the trembling wretch had written at her dictation as he believed at the direction Of his dead wife I had read. It was a phiin statement of how he had poisoned the poor girl whom he had wedded in a fit of mad jealousy, and how he had con cealed bis crime; how at the last mo ment he had overheard a whisper that some one suspected foul playj and how, fearing the body migiit'be ex humed, ho had, with the assistance of an accomplice, since dead, stolen the body that night and re-buried it in the garden of a house in a lonely part of the American town where this accom plice lived. This woman was his wife's sister. ! and she had suspected foul play from the first. She was an actress, and was ' away on a provincial tour when Blis sett Emerton wooed and won Drusilla and took her abroad with him. Emer ton had never seen this sister. The marriage had been secret and hurried, and he had seemed strangely anxious to leave the country. They were to be back in five months. Drusilla poor trusting fool! idol ized the man and obeyed him. To her he was a knight without reproach. But soon his conduct to her altered strangely, and she began to suspect that all was not right. He grew cold and cruel, and she was miserable and un happy. She wrote secretly to her sister, told her troubles and how quickly her hus band's conduct had altered. The sister urged her to leave him and come home. She was expecting her to do so when there came the news of her illness and death, and then of the mysterious dis appearance of the body. From that mo ment Drusilla Emerton's sister made up her mind to fathom the mystery and bring the guilty home to the murderer. She refused to accept the explanation of her sister's death. She believed Blis sett Emerton to be quite capable of carrying out a carefully-matured plot to get rid of her. Tha disappearance of the'body strengthened her suspicions. She concluded at once that he feared the. corpse might afterward be -exhumed, and as it turned out her suspicions were correct. When sometime after ward he arrived in England, she com menced to put her plans into execu tion. She would terrify his secret from him. I have said she was an actress by profession. She was also an exact counterpart in height and feature of her dead sister. When Emerton went to live in cham bers she managed by a clever artifice to get a duplicate set of keys. The place Ls open night and day, and as there are only one or two men in residence it is easy to chose a time to step up the stairs unnoticed. By getting into the inclosure before twelve one would not even be seen by the gate-porter. The plan which occurred to the mur dered woman's sister had been put in execution for the first time that night. Early in the evening she had let him see her face among the trees. I had been an unsuspected witness of the suc cess of her appearance as one from the dead. All this was told at the trial in America. He was extradited and I went over sis a witness. But not even on the scaffold would he tell where re posed the remains of his victim. The avenging sister is now a member of Mr. 's Dramatic Company, and the story, although well known in the States, is now perhaps told for the first time in England. London lietree. THEOHUEOTIEOAD. Burdette'8 Interview With the Eailroad Erakeman. On the ToadtOnce more, with Leban on fading away in the distance, the fat passenger drumming idly on the win dow pane, the cross passenger sound asleep, and the thin, tall passenger read ing "General Grant's Tour Around the World," and wondering why "Green's August Flower" should be printed above the doors of "A Buddhist Tem ple at Benares." To me comes the brakeman. and, seating himself on the arm of the seat, says: "I went to church yesterday.' "Yes?' I said, with that interested inflection that asks for more. "And what church did you attend?' "Which do you guess?' he asked. "Some union mission church?' I haz arded. "Xaw.' he said, "I don't like these branch roads very much. I don't often go to church, and when I do, I want to run on tlie main line, where yoir run in regular and you go on schedule time and don't have to wait on connections. I don't like to run on a branch. Good enough, but I don't like it.' "Episcopal ?' I guessed. "Limited express,' he said, "all pal ace cars and two dollars extra for a seit; fast time and only stop at the big stations. Xice line, but too expensive for a brakeman. All train men in un iform, conductor's punch and lantern silver-plated, and no train boys allow ed. Then the passengers are allowed to talk back to the conductor, and it makes them too free and easy. Xo, I couldn't stand the palace cars. Bich road, though. Don't often liear of a receiver being appointed on that line. Some mighty nice people travel on it, too.' "Fniversalist,' I suggested. "Broad guage,' said tlie brakeman; "does too much complimentary busi ness. Everybody travels on a pass. Conductor doesD't get a fare once in fifty miles. Stons at all fiair stations and won't ru'.i into anything but a un ion depot. Xo smoking car on the train. Tvaiu orders are rather vague, though, and the train men don't get along well with the passengers. Xo, I don't go to the Universalist, though I know some awful good men who run on that road.' "Presbyterian?' I asked. "Narrow gauge, eh!' said the brake man, "pretty track, straight as a rule: tunnel right through a mountain rath er than go around it; spirit level grade; pjissengers have to show their tickets before thev get on the train. Mighty strict road, but the cars are a little nar row ;have to sit one in a seat and no room in the aisle to dance. Then there is no stop over tickets allowed; got to go straight through to the station you 're ticketed for, or you can't go on at all. When the car is full, no extra coaches cars built at the shops to hold just so many and nobody else allowed on. But you don't often hear of an acci dent on that road. It is run right up to the rules.5 "Maybe you joined the Free Til ink ers,' I said. "Scrub road,' said the brakeman, "dirt road bed and no ballast; no time Card timo and no train despatches. All trains run wild and every engineer makes his own time, just as he pleases-. Smoke if you want to; kind of a gtas-yoti-please road. Too many side tracks and even- switch wide open all the time, with the switchman sound asleep and the target lamp dead out. Go as you please and get off when you want to. Do not have to show your tickets, the conductor is not expected to do any thing but amuse the passengers. Xo, i sir I was offered a pass but do not like the line I do not like to travel on a road that has no terminus. Do you know, sir, I asked a division superin tendent where the road run to, and he i hoped to die if he knew. I asked him 1 if the general superintendent could tell me, and he said he did not believe they had a general superintendent, and if they had, he did not know anything more about the road than the passen gers. I asked him who he reported to and he said "nobody.' I asked a con ductor who he got his orders from, and he said he did not take orders from any living man or dead ghost. And when I asked the engineer who he got his orders from and he said he would like to see anybody give him orders, he would run that train to suit himself or he would run it into the ditch. Xow you see, sir, I am a rail road man, and I do not care to run on a road that has no time, makes no connections, runs nowhere and has no superintendent. It may be all right, but I have rail roaded too long to understand it.' "Did you try the Methodist?' I ask ed. "Xow you are shouting,' he said with some enthusiasm. rXice road, eh? Fast time and plenty of passengers. Engines carry a power of steam, and don't you forget it; steam gauge shows a hundred and enough all the time. Lively road; when the conductor shouts 'All aboard!' you can hear him at the next station. Every train lamp shines like a head-light. Stop-over checks given on all through tickets; passenger can drop off the train as oft en as he likes, do the station two or three days, and hop on the next re vival train that comes thundering along. Good, whole-souled, compan ionable conductors, ain't a road in the country where the passengers feel more at home. Xo passes; every pas senger pays his full traffic rates for his ticket. Wesleyanhouse air brake on all trains, too; pretty safe road, but I didn't ride over it yesterday.' "Maybe you went to the Congrega tional church ?' I said. "Popular road,' said the brakeman, 'an old road, too ; one of the very old est in the country. Good road bed and comfortable cars. Well managed road, too; directors don't interfere with di vision superintendents and train or ders. Road's mighty popular, but it's pretty independent," too. See, didn't one of the division superintendents down east discontinue one of the oldest stations on this line two or three years ago ? But it is a mighty pleasant road to travel on. Always has such a splen did class of passengers.' "Perhaps you tried the Baptist?' I guessed once more. "Ah, ha!' said the brakeman, 'she's a daisy, isn't she? River road; beau tiful curves; sweep around anything to keej) close to the river, but it's all steel rail and rock ballast, single track all the way and not a side track from the round house to the terminus. Takes heaps of water to run it through; double ranks at every sta tion, and there isn't an engine in the shops that can pull a pound or run a mile with less than two gauges. But it runs through a lovely country; these river roads always do; river on one side and hill on the other, and it's a steady climb up the grade all the way till the run ends where the foun tain head of the river begins. Yes, sir, I'll take the river road every time for a lovely trip, sure connections and good time, and no prairie dust blowing in at the windows. And yesterday when the conductor came around for tlie tickets with a little basket punch, I didn't ask him to pass me, but I paid my fare like a little man twenty-five cents for an hour's ruu and a little concert by the passengers thrown in. I tell you, Pilgrim, you take the river road" when you want ' But just here the long whistle from the engine announced a station, and the brakeman hurried to the door, shouting: "Zionsville! This train makes no stops between here and Indianapolis!' wnmiira A WIFE. How Listz Became a Husband. The following story of the marriage of Listz, the pianist, is, if true, certain ly very remarkably romantic: Listz was at Pjmgue in the autumn of 1S4G. The day after his arrival a fstranger called upon him and repre sented himself as a brother artist in distress, having expended all his means in an unsuccessful law-suit, and solici ted aid to enable him to return to his place in Xuremberg. Listz gave him a hearty reception and opened his desk to get some money, but found he possess ed only three ducats. "You see," said the generous artist, "that I am as poor as yourself. How ever, I have credit, and I can coin more money with my piano. I have here a minature given me by the emperor of Austrlf; the painting is of little value but the diamonds are fine; take it, sell the diamonds, and keep the money." The stranger refused the rich gift, but Listz compelled him to take it, and he carried it to a jeweler who suspect? ed from his shabby appearance, that he had stolen it, had him arrested and thrown into prison. The stranger sent for his generous benefactor, who im mediately called upon the jeweler, and told him the man was innocent, that he had given him the diamonds. 'But who are you ?' said the jeweler. 'My name is Listz,' he replied. 'I know of no financier of that name,' said the jeweler. 'Very possible,' said Listz. But do vou know that-these dia monds are worth six thousand florins ?'- 'So much the better for him to whom I gave them.' 'But you must be rich to give such presents.' 'My sole fdrtuilc Consists of three ducats,' said Listz. "Then you are a fool,' said the jew eler. Xo,' said Listz. I have only to move the ends of illy fingers to get as much money as I want.' 'Then you are a sorcerer,' said the jeweler. 'I will show you the kind of sorcery that I employ,' said Listz. Seeing a piano in the back parlor of the jeweler's shop, the eccentric artist sat down to it, and began to improvise a ravishing ah A beautiful young lady made her appearance, and at the close of the perfarmance exclaimed, 'Bravo, Listz!' 'You know him, then?' said the jew eler to his daughter. 'I have never seen him ljefore,' she said: 'but there is no one in the world but Listz who can produce such sounds , from the piano.' The jeweler was satisfied, the strang . cr was released and relieved, thereport ' of Listz being in the city flow, andfa was waited on and feted by the nobles, who besought him to give a concert in their citv. The jeweler, seeing the- homage that was paid to the man of genius, was anxious to form an alliance with him, and said to him: 'How do you find my daughter T 'Adorable f was the reply, 'What do you think of marriage?' continued the jeweler. 'Well enough to try it,' said Listz. "What do you say to a dowery of three million "francs? he was next asked. I will accept it and thank you, too,' was the reply. 'Well, my daughter likes you and you like her, and the dowery is ready. Will you be my son-in-law?' said the jeweler. 'Gladly,' replied Listz, and the mar riage was celebrated the following week. OLDBAUDSOM. His Experience at a Banquet Why he Didn't Want any More. Little Rock Gazette. Several days ago Old Randsom, a colored man who has always lived on a cotton plantation, came to the city as a delegate to a meeting of the Sons of Ham. At night, after his arrival, a banquet was given by the lodge This was something almost supernatural to the old man. He had often heard of people sitting around a table and drinking, amid music and speeches, but he did not believe that such glories be longed to anv other than before-the- war aristocracy. The tables were spread in a church. Old Randsom was mj-stified. The heaps of oranges startled him. He had not believed that there were so many oranges in the world. The days of his boyhood swam in a retrospective sei before him. His master's birthday came up, and he could see himself a "shirt-tailed" boy, with curious sensations, ascending the steps of the "big house" to receive a half orange from the hand of his rever enced master. The white-washed cab ins came up and grew whiter beneath the sun of his imagination. Old Aunt Silvey with her crutch and rheumatism hobbled by, and young Dan, with a quail, told the sad story that Eph had stolen the or.uige and crammed it in his mouth. All this passed before Randsom, and to sit at the head of the table laden with oranges, chicken, baked shoat and funny looking bottles caused him to wonder, scratch his wooly head and wonder again. When the wine came on old Randsom drank heartily . Extra dry flowed in an almost unbroken stream. He had never seen any before, and after he had drunk about a quart he laughed to think how much a man could drink, and wondered if there were enough in the world for one man. "Look a hear," he said to one of the waiters, "ain't yer got no ole fashun plantation whiskey? Dis stuff flonn kitch holt. I likes de whiskey wat lays holt ob a man like a dog ketchin' a sow by de year." The waiter informed him that whiskey w:us not accessible. "Gimmy some paiii-killers or suthin ter make me feel hit. I could drink dis heah stuff all night an'besufferin'." The waiter toitl him that if he would pay attention to the extra day, he would feel satisiied. The old man kept drink ing uidfl the affair ended, and when som one proposed to take him to his boarding-house, he struck at him with nis hat, laughed loudly, tried to put his arm around a daughter of Ham and tried to prove by her that he was a "man what is a man," and could take cave of himself. Alout two o'clock next morning a policeman found old Randsom lying in the street. He was taken to the station-house and locked up. When he was brought into court his head was as much swollen as though he was poisoned. When the judge in formed him he was fined five dollars he arose and said: "Jedge, dis is my fust visit ter Lit tle Rock, an' ef ole marster will par don me, hits de las one. I doan eare how much yer fines me, but for de Lord's sake "tell me what sort ob dinged sweetnin' was dat de ole man drunk. Hit went down jes' as mile ez sweet milk, but I'll bo dinged if hit didn't come up like a hatful ob ten-pennv nails, an' de wost ob all, jedge, hit kept 'er coram'." Here the old man heaved, threw up a handful of nails and was led down stairs. He still belongs to the sons of Hani, but is firm in his objection to sweetened mildness. BUlOA-BEAOv What did the Man Bay? A scene in court with a stupid wit ness. A man has been caught m the act of theft, and pleaded in extenuation that he w;is drunk. Court (to the policeman who was Avitnessj : "What did the man say when you arrested him ?" Witness: "He said he was drunk." Court: "I want his precise words just sis he uttered them; he didn't use the pronoun he. did he? lie didn't say he was drunk?" Oh yes he did he said he was drunk; he acknowledged the fturtO' Court (getting impatient at the wit ness's stupidity): "You don't under stand me at all; I want the words as he uttered them; didn't he say 'I was drunk r" Witness (deprecatingly) : "Oh, no, your honor. He didn't say you were drunk; I wouldn't allow any man to charge that upon you in my presence" Prosecutor; "Pshawt you don't com prehend at all. His honor means, did not the prisoner sav to vou, 'I was drunk?"' Witness (reflectively): "Well, he might have said you were drunk, but I didn't hear him." Attorney for prisoner: "What the court desires is to have you state the prisoner's own words, preserving the precise form of pronoun that he made use of in reply. Was it first person I, second person thou, or the third person lie, sh" or itt Xow then, sir twith severity) upon your oath didn't my client say, 'I was drunk?'" Witness (getting mad): "Xo, he didn't say you were drunk, but if he h:id, I reckon he wouldn't luwe been wrong. Do you suppose the poor fel low charged the whole court with being drunk?" Family Vinegai. A cheap vinegar consists of twenty-fivegallous of warm rain water with four tnillons of treacle i aijd one gallon of yeast. Let this fer ment freely and it is then fit for use. President Lmcohi'B Bream.. Xo trait in the characterof Abraham Lincoln was more prominent and ad mired than his domesticity and love of of those times when he coiiltlsHrround: himself with his family, and entertain himself and them with cheerful and profitable conversations "lYbile-he-was neither a professor of religionnoreven fixed in his belief in any creed, still he was fontJ of reading and discussing the bible. On these Sunday evenings he invari ably read a chapter or two- from- tho scriptures, and1 then gave his explana tion of it. One evening he read a number of passages from both the old and new testaments, relating to dreanxs to which Mrs. Lincoln and tho child ren gave great attention. At length he raised his eyes from the book and re lated tho following: "About ten days ago I retired one night quite late. I hatl been up waft ing for some important dispatches from the front, and conild not Jravo been long in bed before I fell into slumber, for I was very weary. Dur ing my slumber I began to dream. I thought there was greit stillnessabout me, and I heard weeping. I tlionght that I got up and went down stairs. The same stillness was there. As I went from room to room, I heard moaning and weeping. At length I came to the end room, which I entered, and there before me was a magnificent dais, on which was a corpse. Here there were sentries and a crowd of people. I said to one of thrrsoldiers : "Who is dead in the White House T "He answered ; " 'The president.' " 'How did be die ?' I asked. "By the band of an assassin," was the reply. JL'hen I heard a great wailing all over the honse, and it was so loud that it seemed to awake me. I awoko much depressed, rand slept no more dur ing the night. Siicll Was my dream." "Dreadful !" said Tad, with a pale face. "Father, does itmean anything?" "Xo no, my darling," said tho president, with hta old fcmile coming over his face. "It is Only a dream." However it mignt have been with his wife and family, the impression of that dream never did wear away. Day after day he heard the moaning and weeping", and the solemn scene of death again flitted before him. In his rides about Washington, and in excur sions that he made, he had an ever present dread of the assassin's hand, but he breathed this to but one person. At the same time he Ktid : "It is a mere dream." On the night of the fatal four teenth of April, J8US, when tha president was assassinated by John Wikes Booth, Mrs. Lincoln's first ex clamation was : "His dream was prophetic." The remark was not then under stood. Subsequently, the circumstance of Mr. Lincoln's dream was told to many in Washington, and formed one of the most impressive incidents con nected with the tragedy which gave tho nation its immortal martyr. QUAINT STOEIES FBOM OOLOEADO. Glimp&es at the" Amusing Side of tha Miners' Life. It was nearly a year ago when Lcad ville was first showing what there was ill her. There were several newly made bonanza kings about Denver then, and among them was a man who had probably never had 820 in his pocket at one time previous to his strike. To him the possession of a watch was the natural evidence of the possession of a competence, he felt that the fact should be indicated by the purchase of several watches. These he had deposited in the Grand Central Hotel safe. One night he came to tho office very much the worse for liquor, lurched up to the desk and hiccoughed out to the clerk : "Gimme a watch !" A time-piece was passed into his un steady liands, but endeavoring to thrust it into his trousers pockets, he let it slip and fall upon the floor. Without casting a glance at the fallen watch ho lurched the counter again, reached out his shaking hand, mustered all his fac ulties to the task of speaking, and then blurted out ; "Gimme 'nuther !" Can the indifference of affluence go be yond this ? He was evidently a "tenderfoot," but as he stopped before an old miner and held out a piece of micaceous granite fof his inspection, he made a strong effort to look as if he had been born with a contempt for civilization, and that the feeling had been growing on him ever since. "What do you make this out to be ?" he asked, indicating the siecimen with a nod. "Humph !" was the expressive answer. "Gold quartz or carbonates ?" The "honest miner" turned it over in his hand indifferently, took out his knife and picked at it for a while, and then asked: "Got much of it?" "Thous ands of tons," answered the other eag erly "How much do you suppose she'll run?" "Can't tell nothin without an assay.' "But you can guess, can't you ; yon can guess?" "Oh, yes," answered the barnacle, "anybody kin guess; but a guess is liable to be extravagant. Xow, I shall say but mind ye, I may go over the mark I should" s-a-a-a-y, (turning the specimen over again and holding it up to the light.) I should s-a-a-a-y that if yp can save the gold in this and catch the silver, and not waste the lead, that it might ran about well, about twodollars to the country." "Is this my train?" asked a traveller at the Kansas Pacific depot of a loung er. "I don't know, but I guess not," was the doubtful reply. "I see it's got the name of a railroad company on the side, and I expect it belongs to them. Hev you lost a train anywhere"" "Do you like your champagne dry?" asked A. of B. who didn't know how he liked his champagne, lecause he had only made his strike the day beforehand had never before seen any chaimvagno to which he felt justified in applying a pronoun in the possessive ea"e. "I dunno." replied B., "but 1 guess you'd better gimme some that's wet. I'm sort o' thirsty." It w:ts alioiit Belford that tho fol lowing remark was made: "Sim has. some right gcxxt ioiiits," it ran, "but the great troublo with him is that he is always alxriit ten lengths ahead of ev erybody's judgment, and gaining at ev ery jump." Eoi? your Baddies go tp