Nebraska Newspapers

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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