THE REPUBLICAN. •TAHH * ttAI^ooK, ALGONA, — - • . __ •'_.---.- - - -I HIS OLD YELLOW ALMANAC. I left the farm when mother died, and chanced my place of dwellin' To daughter Susie's stylish house, right in the city street, And there was them, before I came, that sort of scared me, tollln' Howl would flnd the town folks' ways so dlffl- cult, to moet. 'They snid I'd hivve no comfort in the rustHn', flxod-up throng, And I'd have to wear stiff collars every weekday right along. Just like a duck to I flnd I take to city ways water, I Hlce the racket and tho noise, and never tire of shows; And there's no end of comfort in tho mansion of my daughter, And every thing Is right nt hnnd, and money froely flows, And hired help is all about, just listenin 1 for my call, But I miss the yellow almanac off my old kitoh- . en wall. Tho house Is full of calendars, from attio to the cellar, They're painted In all colors, and arc fancy- like to see; But Justin this particular'I'm not a modern feller, And tho yellow-covered almanac Is good enough for mo. I'm used to It, I've seen It round from boyhood to old age, And I rather like the Jokln' nt the bottom of each page. I like the way the "8" stood out to show the week's boelnnln' (In these new-fangled calendars the days seemed sort of mixed), And the mnn upon the cover, though he wa'n't exactly wlnnin', ; With lungs and liver all exposed, still showed how we are fixed; And the letters and credentials that were writ to Mr. Ayer I've often, on a rainy day, found readln' very fair. I tried to flnd one recently; there wa'n't one in ; the city, They toted out great calendars in every sort of style; I looked at'em in cold disdain, and answered 'em in pity: "I'd rather have my almanac than all that costly rile." And, though I take to city life, I'm lonesome, after all, For that old yellow almanac upon mv kitchen < wall. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox, in Century. TJNDEK SUSPICION. How Dick Levoe Proved His In- nocenos and Won a Bride. Something very unusual to quiet * aim ley had happened, and Talmley was decidedly uncomfortable about it. Of course, everybody knew, as everybody knew every thing in-that delightful place, where e;ich neighbor was a friend, each friend a brother; and what the village folk knew was this—the miller, old Harvey Jameson, had been robbed. "A queer business, Neighbor Greene," •said the miller, shaking his dusty head solemnly, and telling the circumsance for the fiftieth time. "Nobody knew I had tho money but my daughter Jennio and young Levo'e, a'rid'I can't suspect V single soul. I put the money in a tin box, and put that among a lot of other boxes in the cupboard, waitin' till 1 could go to the bank with it, an 1 lo and behold! when I went to get it out yesterday there warn'ta single sign of box or money. I can't understand it." "Neither do I, neighbor," said Greene, running a brawny hand over his shock of untidy hairf "neither can L But I do think ye set too much store by that young man ye've took into your house, and mebbe you're mistook in him. He's a deal too fine about his clothes, an' his hands, an'his hair to be any too honest; but"—cautiously, as he saw the flush that stole over Jame- eon's face—"but mebbe-I'm talking too fast But it's mighty curious, an' one don't know what to think." "One might try to think nothin' that weren't charitable," said the old miller, gravely; "an' 1 don't suspect the lad It's more'n I'd like to lose, for it takes a time to earn it. But young Levoe didn't have nothin' to do with the stealin' no more than you or me—an' I'd rather people wouldn't kinder hint he had." "Tain't nature not to think it, seein' he's a stranger, and nobody knows what or who he is; an' he has fine ways with him, and talks like a schoolmaster," said Greene, stubbornly. '-I don't like to see you took in, neighbor, an' I'm mighty much afraid you are by that mill hand of your'n." ! Then Greene bade the miller good day, and betook himself to his duties on the farm hard by the mill, • But that grizzled old pa an left a seed of doubt behind him. It was not without many a struggle against the suspicion that at last Havvey Jameson admitted it with a sigh. Who could have robbed him of his hard earnings save some stranger? For his neighbors were his friends, and honest, as he knew. In Talmley there was but one who bad not been born there, and that one was 'Dick Levoe, the stranger who bad crossed his threshold six months before to ask for employment. Jameson wanted a hand for the mill, and hired Dick, taking him as a boarder. The young man had "fine ways," as Greene said. He was not especially handsome, but he was cheerful, courteous, willing to work, and yet, for all that, showed unmistakable signs of having had no occasion to, pMiorm any labor at some time not far Baut- He was educated —even Jennie, % ho bad spent a year at boarding school, could be instructed by him. "I'll just keep nay «yeu open an' not let on for awhile," thought the miller. "But, as Greene said, who else could he.ve stolen the money?" : He perceived no change in Pick.no confusion, no sign of guilt; but, greatly to the good man's consternation, £e discovered something else. The young wan was in love with pn%£tanie shj was fully conscious ,9$ fcks^ej, Here was a new difficul (be He was pondering on it ene day, three weeks after the robbery, when Glavin, of the Hollow, called and paid for ten pounds whicJhhad been due same time. "I hoar your house isn't ft very secure place for money," said Glavia, with a smile; "but I hope nobody will walk off with thig while you're asleep." "I'll take care of that," answered the miller, conscious that Dick could hear. 'I don't calo'late on bein' robbed twice by the same person} and I've got over thtnkin' everybody I meet is honest. Good-day, sir. Much obliged." Without a word the 'old man passed into his chamber, and there secreted the ten pounds, frowning as he did so. "I'll send that fellow packin'soon, whether 1 find.iim stealin'or not," ho muttered. "It ain't none too comfortable a feelin' to know you've got to lock up every shilling you get and not toll anybody where you put it." He ato his supper that evening in si- ience; Jennie and Dick chattering incessantly, and Mrs. Jameson told about every ache and pain that racked tho woman she had been to visit. But tlio miller could only wonder whether or not that frank, manly face and,those cheery tones of his employe belonged to a knave and scoundrel. "An 1 Jennie and him seem to understand one another far too wolJ," he soliloquized. "I used t6 like the lad, but now I'd as lief see my girl care for old blind Jack, the fiddler, as this fine gentleman. As Greene says, he's too fancy about himself to be honest. I've often heard the greater the rascal the more genteel, an' I guess I'll load the rifle." He did load his rifle, and placed it near his bed, telling his wife that he "wasn't goin' to lose any more money, but the first one that came for dishonest purposes would lose his life." So he went to bed, and thought more of his daughter than of the money under tho carpet. However, he did think of his money sometimes, and, in fact, his thoughts ran from that to Jennie, as the thoughts of the money-lender ran from his ducats to his daughter. It was midnight before his wife slept at all, but then her sleep was profound. It was broken at last by the strangest and most thrilling of sounds, no less startling than a heavy fall, and loud, harsh, reverberating report, as though a cannon had been fired at her ear. No woman is ever too frightened to scream, and Mrs. Jameson's shrieks were loud and shrill as she cowered among the bed-clothes; ajid scrambling in the darkness and muttered words which she could not understand did not tend to calm her. There was a rush of feet in the hall without; a stout shoulder sent the door inward with a crash, and Dick Levoe, who had made this unceremonious entrance, stood there, with a light high above his head, his keen eyes scanning the apartment 'swiftly. It took him a moment to comprehend, and then ho laughed with immeasurable amusement The miller, xlad but lightly, was sprawling on the floor, a dazed wonder in his face, the old rifle, which he had struck as he had fell, lying harmless beside him, and now unloaded; a window was open; and through it came a fine sheet of rain;.the old man was soaking wet, and raindrops glistened on his hair and scanty garments; his bare feet were muddy, and altogether he presented any thing but an agreeable or presentable appearance. "What has happened?" asked Diok, as soon as his mirth could be suppressed, as he aided the miller to his feet. "I—I don't know!" stammered Jameson. His wife, hearing voices, cautiously peeped out from under her coverlet. "Robbers!" she cried, shrilly. "They have been here again. Have they shot you, Harvey?" "No, wife, I'm not shot," said Harvey "an' I don't think there's been any rob' bers about Fact is, I've been sleep- walkin'." "What?" "I've been walkin' in my sleep, sure as you live!" groaned the miller. "I'm all wet, so I must have gone out of doors, an' the Lord only knows where I have been or what I've been doin'! I was dreaming of that ten pounds." He broke off and hurried to that spot in which he had hidden the money. It was not there! "You're rather old for such capers, Harvey," his wife was saying. But he didn't hear her. Very blankly he turned to Diok, who had now retreated to the threshold where Jennie was standing, white and startled, but ravishingly pretty. "Lad," the miller said, solemnly, "I believe I've robbed myself. I've heard of such things, an' now I believe I've done just that, an' I ain't got a notion where I put the money," "Is it gone?" "Yes." ' 'Then you had best put on dry clothes, sir, while I go out and try to follow the tracks you have probably left in the garden, Your feet are so muddy, I'm sure you must have been there. I'll report in a few minutes," A whispered sentence to Jennie at the door, and Diok was off to don his boots, and laugh at the remembrance of the miller's plight. With a lantern he went out into the rain, and his gravity departed again aw under the window of the miller's chamber he discovered deeply indented footprints, which proved that Jameson had emerged like a schoolboy. The big, bare feet left plain traces in the soft soil of the garden. Diok followed them on, across the road, and found that they ceased at one corner of the mill. A loose board bad been freshly replaced. He drew it out, and there, in the aperture, found a small tin box. Taking it out, he hurried back to $n£ Jameson, his wife and Jennie up and dressed waiting fop b,iin. The miller took thjj box eagerly, and opened it with scarcely steady hands. There were the ten pounds, and under If I can ever do you a ffbbd turn call oft me." "I take your word, sir," said ijtc cheerfully going straight to Jennie and taking her hattd. "Iwant your consent to my marrying Jennie some day, wlfea I have proved myself able to take 0^*8 of her. We love each other, and I hope, sir, you'll not forget what love was to yourself once." "No, I don't, lad," said the mille*, with a tender glance towards his wife. "But a mill hand gets but poor wages, an'you'll have to wait awhile." "As for that," said Dick, "I think you 11 have to look up another mill hand, Mr. Jameson, for I have another offer, and intend taking it. I wasn't brought up to labor, and was at college when my father died, leaving me, instead of the thousands I expected, nothing but my empty, untrained hands. I left the college, and fate led mo hither. If I have shown no talent as a miller, I have won the sweetest girl in tho world to love me. "Now a friend of my father offers me the post of book-keeper in his bank, at a salary on which Jennie and I can live, I know. I didn't take your money, sir, and I'll forgive you for suspecting that I did if you'll give me Jennio." "What do you say, daughter?" asked the old man, wistfully. "I love him, f-ather," she whispered. "Then I'll only say God bless you both 1" said the miller. But his eyes were dim as he said ifc, for Jennie was his only child.—Somerville Journal. HEAVEN ON EARTH. It Is FcMind In the Home Governed by a Faithful, Loving Wife. No queen has held a warmer fealty, no spirit a more devoted affection, no knight won greater triumphs than the true wife in the true home. Home is the limit of her jurisdiction, and all within it are under the benediction' of her life. There she may succor her loved ones from disappointments and instill into their hearts courage to try again; there her loving hands may soothe away the pangs of sickness; there her quiet, even, daily life brings rest and peace from the struggle and care without; and the remembrance of her love and waiting service gives new life to the weary feet journeying homeward after the day of toil. Such a life may have its hardships, but the rewards are sure and now, not in the far-off, yet- to-be. It is hard to suppress the hasty word when some one in the household worn and tired, is just a little unreasonable; but the sunshine of to-morrow will be brighter for it; hard to always put the husband's slippers by the fire, and see him go out to the lodge, without noticing the loving thoughtf ulness; but they will win their way in time; hard to go, uncomplainingly,, without a hundred little comforts, when cigars and tobacco are purchased almost at wholesale; hard to sit at home the livelong day keeping it in order for those who never mention the sur- soundings, unless to mention something that is wrong; but, patient and continued sowing will surely some day bring the harvest. And untiring, never- failing devotion will work its way into the most heedless heart and fill the house with a'halo that shall be eternal. It costs but a little effort to open the door daily for the coming husband, by the hand he loves the best in all the world; but it will make that hand a scepter, and fill the womanly heart behind it with a peace more" than earthly. Try for a little while to nurture and tend the little flowers of duty growing in the household, those, so little—we are apt to overlook them, and we shall see that they bear most precious fruitage. Now and then I stroll am id the sleeping dead, in one of God's acres, on a little hillside overlooking the Hudson, and come, at times, to the gra^ve of a woman—a woman who has been sleeping there, amid the sighing of the trees and the singing of the birds, a quarter of a century or more. p It is the fairest spot in all this little holy ground; the grass is green and always freshly cropped, the walk about it is kept in perfect order, the bursting bud and flower devote their incense to the memory of the sleeper; and every Lord's day a poor and gray- haired man sits by the side of the little mo and, too poor to buy a tombstone or cut a name in marble. One day I touched his arm and whispered: "Friend, who waits here for the resurrection?" The lips trembled, but they wore a smile. "My wife was buried here," said he. "She made my home a heaven."—Ladies' Home Journal. WAR REMINISCENCES. FORETOLD IN DREAMS. An Ovation Tendered General Grant Pictured Otit to JHtilS Dent Long Before. . In a pretty house on Sixty-sixth street' in Now York, surrounded" by comfort and luxury, the center of a large circle friends, Mrs. Julia Dent Grant i8 of ON STAR, Concern- - ^™- T-^T j--—^j*,^.*, VI**Vt M4AVLVJF them the money of which he had thought pick bad robbed bim. ; "i-fti," he eaid, turning & his ein . ploye, "I've been tbinkin' ill of you, tb* last* to w 4»ys $$' I ask you* ANOTHER Quaint ana Interesting lag the PJahet Mara. In Canaille Flammarion's last romance of the stars, some quaint and interesting fancies are given regarding the planet Mars. The poet-astronomer imagines that in our nexl y starry neighbor tbedensiny is so slight that material substanpes are very light, and that thus the living beings corresponding to ourselves are vastly more ethereal, delicate and sensitive than the inhabitants of Earth. Dwelling farther from the sun than we, their optic nerve is more powerful, and that fact, together with superior magnetic and electric influences, creates senses unknown to us and unimaginable by us. Everything is so much less ponderable, so much more unsubstantial than with us, be goes on to fancy, that the people there might be called thinking and living winged flowers, for in the tenuous atmosphere wings had the first obanpe at development rather than a more terrestrial method of getting about, evolution bav» ing taken place in a series of winged species, and the people living as much on the air and on aerial plants as on the ground. Here, also, the density pf the body and its weight being so slight, all organisms are very light and delicate, no other food being taken than that drawn from the atmosphere; thus the female sex is the predominating one, living on the airs of spring and the perfume of flowers, the absence of gross food preventing gross ideas and clarify ing the intellect to an immense power, while a;i unspeakable charm is 'tea* oised by thiso WJOUMJU in the fluting of their wings and i» the kiss of a mouth that never hw eaten,—garner's spending- the declining years of her life. She lias sufficient means to provide for borsolf munificently and enable her to entertain her friends and often large companies of the public, as becomes the wife of the foremost Captain of the age. Every Thursday is set apart for the reception of those who wish to call upon her, and it is said that certain persons, among whom is General Sherman, visit her ovary week wlioii she is in tho city. Her life is varied somewhat by occasional visits to her children who are beyond sea—Mrs. Sartoris living in England and Colonel Frod Grant in Vienna, as Minister to Austria—and her son Ulyssos, who lives on a farm about forty miles out of New York. Mrs. Grant i's modest and somewhat shy in her nature, and no one would suspect from association with her that she was for eight years the "first ladv i n the land;" that later, in company with General Grant, sho_ visited every great city in the Union, and received attention's such as a Queen might envy; and then made tho journey around the globe, and was the guest of all the courts of Europe and Asia. Some time after the death of General Grant a clergyman, himself an old soldier, was present at a larpe reception of members of the Grand Army of the Ke- public given by Mrs. Grant, and formed her acquaintance. Matters relating to the Grand Army called him to visit her several times afterward, until he became sufficiently, acquainted for her to lay aside, somewhat, her natural reserve and speak more freely of herself and her illustrious husband than she otherwise would. The clofryman related the following incident of one of his visits: "On the last occasion that I visited her house I ventured to speak of the tender regard with which tho old soldiers remembered her husband, when she told of her earnest love for the members of tho Grand Army and the lifelong affection with which the General regard" ed his old comrades. She proceeded to speak of the groat friendship of the people of tne South for him, saying- that just before the meeting of the National Republican convention, during General Grant's second term as President, the Boneral used to bring- her a large number of letters daily from prominent men in the South, pleading with bim to allow his name to go before tho convention for a third term. This led her to relate the following-remarkable circumstance which, so far as I know, has not before been made public. It is so interesting- that I thipk it ought to be known :>y the whole nation. Her story was as follows: " 'My early home was in the South, in St Louis, which was a small city at the time, it having attained to its position as one of the great cities of tho Union in later years. New Orleans was the groat commercial metropolis of the South, and with the.young-people'of my acquaintance a visit to New Orleans was the great event of a lifetime. When one of our circle was so fortunate as to be able to spend a few days there he was the envy of us all. My people, being- somewhat extensively engaged in business, made a journey to New Orleans nearly every year, and it was tho greatest desire I had to visit that city. I turned it over in my mind and became quite absorbed with the wish to make the visit. " 'One night I had a dream. In my dream I seemed to be in the city of New Orleans and the people came out in masses to do me honor. I was invited to dine with all the leading persons of the city, and feted until it seemed that the whole city had turned out to do me honor. The populace brought great rolls of carpeting and spread it on the walks, and the enthusiasm was as great »s though a queen was receiving the fealty of her subjects. But all the time it seemed to me that while all this was in my honor, and I was permitted to receive the honors,, as if no one else shared them, yet another was present, and his presence was the occasion of the enthusiastic reception that was tendered us, 11 'I married General Grant, and the fortunes of war placed him where his kindness of heart enabled him to place the South as they thought under the most lasting obligations, and they never ceased to tire of expressing their gratitude. " 'After the General retired from the Presidency, as you know, we made a tour of the South. When we visted New Orleans my girlhood dream all came true. The entire populace of New Orleans turned out to do us honor. They unrolled great rolls of carpet on the walks as though the flagstones were not good enough for us to walk on. We were the guests of the leading men, and of the city itself, and were feted by every body, as though every one was trying to outdo the other. Never did any person receive a greater ovation, and I could not help feeling that it all came from the generous hearts of the people as a token of their appreciation of the General's kindness to General Lee and bis army*' "In the relation of the story, every point of which is as related by Mrs, Grant, there was no evidence of pride or elation^ but Simply a manner that showed how she dwells on the memory of her illustrious husband, and what an inexpressible privilege it was to have been his lifelong companion. Mrs. Grant belongs tp fcbs American people, whatever concerns her concerns them als^ and 'his simple story, which has not r.*»en told before, will possess an interest '.hat nothing of romance could ever awaken, and only because I believe that many will real it with the greatest interest do I give it to the world. "--Chicago Times. HIS LAST 6WA&KER. A Boldle*'* Clicerfal PtkRottopfcy p. couragingt Clrcnmntnnow. Mr. George Gary Eggleskm, in "B«t« ties and Leaders ol the Ci«il War," furnishes an account, half-pathetic, half- comic, of the nearly famished condition of the Confederate soldiers during General Grant's final campaign. They ate their salt pork raw, "partly because there was no convenient means of cooking it, but more because cooking would have involved some waste," When we reached Cold Harbor the command to which T belonged had been marching almost continuously day and night for more than fifty hours without food, and for the first time we knew what actual starvation was. Itwasdur- ing this march that I heard a man wish himself a woman—tho only case of the kind I ever heard of—and ho uttoreclthe wish half in grim jest and made haste to qualify it by adding, "or a baby." Yet wo recovered our cheerfulness at onco after taking the first nibble at the crackers issued to us there, and made a jest of the scantiness of the supply. One tall, lean mountaineer, Jim Thomas by name, who received a slight wound every time he was under fire and was never sufficiently hurt to quit duty, was standing upon a bank of earth, slowly munching a bit of his last cracker and watching the effect of some artillery fire which was in progress at tho time, when a bullet carried away his cap and out a strip of hair from his head, leaving the scalp for a space as bald as if it had been shaved by a razor. He sat down at once to nurse a sharp headache, and then discovered that tho cracker ho had held in his hand was gone, leaving a mere fragment in his grasp. At first he was in doubt whether he might not have eaten it unconsciously; but he .quickly discovered that it had been knocked out of his hand crushed to bits by a bullet; whereupon, as he sat there in an exposed place, where the fire was unobstructed, he lamented his loss in soliloquy. "If I had eaten that cracker half an hour ago, it would have been safe," he said. "I should have had none left for next time; but I have none left as it is. That shows how foolish it is to save any thing. "Whew! how my head aches! I wish it was from over-tjating; but even the doctor couldn't lay it to that just now. "The next time I stand up to watch the firing, I'll put my cracker—if I have any—in a safe place down by the breastwork, where it won't get wounded, poor thing! I3y the way, here's a little piece left, and that'll get shot while I sit here talking." With that he jumped down into the ditch, carefully placed the mouthful of hard-tack at tho foot of the works, and resumed his interested observation ol the artillery duel. It WAS A SWINDLE.. .An Iowa M«n Taken in by it Glem "Orcen Goods" Trick. Johann Hirsch, living at GovernvillB», Jefferson County, was recently notified tbafc his aunt, Mrs. Charlotte Blttme», bad died in New York City, leaving to him (Hirsch) a small fortune. H& was advised to go to New York and get the money. He was notified where Mrs. Blume's attorneys could be found. Upon his arrival in New York; he was told that on payment of $500 'to the attorneys Mrs. Klume'a money,, amounting to #5,000, would be paid over to hitM. The attorney's fee was paid. The 85,000 was then counted out to Hinseh and tied up carefully in a package. Hirsch arrived home, opened his package and found that it contained. a< pack- ago of nicely cut green paper.-. A Bloody Affray» The home of Marcena Stone, a wealthy farmer living four miles from Marshal/town, was the scene of a bloody affray. Stone was reading when Pellbeam, the hired man, drew a small, dull hatchet from under his coat and struck Mr. Stone seven times and then struck Mrs. Stone five times, probably fatally injuring both. Tho crazy man was secured and placed in jail. Colonel John Rose Dead. Colonel John Rose, a prominent Democratic politician in Iowa years ago, iied at his farm near Boone, aged 83 years. Colonel Rose pre-empted a section of land the city of Des Moines now stands on. He came to the State in the forties and was one of the first white men to settle the Des Moines valley. To Hare a Dairy School. At the annual convention of Iowa dairymen at Fort Dodge che need of a dairy school in lowu was discussed and a committee appointed to lay the matter before the trustees of the Iowa Agricultural College at Ames and to insist upon the establishment of such a school at the college. TUB S.tat* of Rhode Island is to Dave a Sold^ HOJBS to cost ttftflM. It ia to be bjj4j$ on the cottage plan, with ac- fov 135 veterans. WOMAN'S WAR SERVICE. Female Attaches In the Fields and Hospitals During the Civil War. Although it is impossible to discovei just how many women gave their services in the fields and hospitals during the civil war, Captain Ainsworth, who is at the head of the pension division of the War Department, has recently prepared a table giving an idea of the vast number who did what they oould for their country by nursing and caring for those who took active part in the struggle. The records are incomplete; but as far as can be ascertained there were probably 10,000 women, with and without regular authority and pay, who performed the duties wherever they happened to be. Of these, 778 were hired by contract by the War Department; 837 went by the appointment of Miss Dix; 248 were Sisters of Charity; 81 were provided by the Sanitary Commission, and 96 by the order of the Surgeon General. In addition to those who went as nurses, there were matrons, cooks, laundresses, etc., making, it is thought, no fewer than 40,000 women in all, three-fourths of whom were white. and.from4he North,,_ There are now oh the" pension rolls" the names of 200 women who acted as nurses, and these were placed there by a special act of Congress; but as yet nothing has been done for most of thest noble women, many of whom are old, feeble, and nearly forgotten. Representative Bellcnap, of Michigan, an ex-soldier, reported a bill to the United States House of Representatives, placing on the pension list at $13 a month "all women employed by the Surgical Department of the United States Service as army nurses, or otherwise officially recognized as such during the War of the Rebellion, and who rendered service in hospitals, in the camp, or on the bat- tleTfield for a period of six months or more, and who were honorably relieved therefrom, and who, from the results of such service or the infirmities of advancing age, are unable to earn their own support."—Woman's Journal. MINIE BALLS. has an organization know as "The Soldier's Rights and Service Pension Alliance." THIS subordinate corps W. R. C. of Ohip gave #400 worth of articles to the Sandusky Soldiers' Home. TPB War Department has decreed that April 15, 1861, was the official first day of the rebellion and May 1,1865, the last day. pointed Wm. Lochren, of Minneapolis, Minn., Judge Advocate General of the Grand Army of the Republic. WM. SISJMONS, historian, National Association of Naval Veterans, No. 1483 Whapton street. Philadelphia, is compiling a list of all surviving veterans of the late war who served in the Union navy. NEW BAMPSBIKE claims the oldest veteran attending the encampment at Boston—James Randlatt, Company $, Second New Hampshire Volunteers. The comrade is eigb.ty.two years oi THE largest patriotic contribution made by one man to the Unicu army ii (Caught to have been ma.de >y Charts j$r$,n.don, #f MpundsviU^, W., sent seventeen eons out of a thirtv-ave chUdjren, all son#> News in Unef. A Burlington train near Fort Madison ran into and killed an unknown man driving a team of mules. The Governor has appointed C. P. Holmes, of Des Moines, to succeed Judge Marcus Kavanagh of the district court, who had resigned. The State Railroad Commissioners have changed cheese from second to third class freight. State Dairy Commissioner Tupper has compiled his report of the amount of butter shipped out of the State by the various railroads for the year ended October 1. The amount was placed at 73 500,000 pounds. Chas. Hall, proprietor of the Butler House, at Boone, and a prominent and wealthy citizen, died at the age of 45 years. He has been a resident of Boone fifteen years. Mr. Hall was a Mason of high degree, being a Knight Templar of the Mystic Shrine. Work will commence at once on a $300,000 union depot at Dos Moines. The I. O. O. P. has increased its membership nearly 1,200 in the State th« past year. "' ' Samuel McNutt,. recently appointed United States Consul at Maracaibo, doesn't like the people nor country, and has come home and resigned. The official count of Union County's vote was made by the Board of Supervisors and the county seat ordered removed to Creston. The annual report of the secretary of the Iowa Woman's Relief Corps gave the membership of the Iowa department as 264 corps and 6,777 members. Some one broke into the barracks of the Salvation Army at Mount Pleasant and destroyed $50 worth of goods. They broke the musical Instruments and cut the drum. Dr. F. W, Oliver, of Sioux City, died at the Summit House in--CVy^eou-irom " JhJBuaB)M't»-<»^:-an~ave"farose of morphine and belladonna self-administered by accident. He was a prominent G. A. R. man. President Chamberlain, Prof. Smith, Prof. Mount and Musical Director Miss Eva Pike have resigned from the faculty of the Iowa State Agricultural College at Amos. Prof. E. W. Stanton was appointed president temporarily. Sixty million dollars of an estate in Europe has fallen to the heirs, $300,000 of which goes to Mrs, Alex. Cowdry, at Geneva. An epidemic of hog cholera in the vicinity of Oskaloosa was taking the ' animals off by the score. Mr K. Price & Son had lost $19,000 worth of prize hogs from the disease. The warden of the Anamos* peniten» tiary has made his report toy October to the State Auditor. It shows the average number of convicts to be 210 and the amount expended for support to be *3,100. The salaries of officers and guards is $3,087.50. E. R. Heath, of Des Moines, offers to build a $75,000 oatmeal mill in Port Dodge if tho city will- donate him a site and give him free taxes and water for ten years. The Milwaukee has changed its route from St Paul to Kansas. Trains now run on its own traek to M$son City, thence over the Jow£ Ceutrajpto Gi?in, thence over the W»bash to Kwsas City. The October j-eport of the warden of the Fort Madison penitentiary show* the average number of inmates to hare been 396. The s«l*rie§ of oncers and guards and riHAtaf ^xp9%sJ4|oot»4 up $7.539.46, •'.•;,' • ' ..- ",..' 'if I Shortly after the Chica^ BttrMngto* & Quincy train left Fort Madison going north it ran into a team of mules driven by an unkoown wan, and the team and dri ver were instantly killed. C. W. WiWams, of Independence, &s$ sold to W. A, Nieolaus, of Joliet, Ift, the bay stallion Rush Wilkes tor ?l,00& He also sold to J. & Moon, *f Mason, v*ty> the chestnut yearling Borffc>n |«f •''"
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