The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on October 21, 1891 · Page 6
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, October 21, 1891
Page:
Page 6
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 6 article text (OCR)

THE REPUBLICAN : ALGOKA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1801, By FERGUS W, HUME, CHAPTER II. EvtBENOE AT THE WQTOST. At the inquest held on the body found In the hansom cab the following articles taken from the deceased were placed on the table: 1. Two pounds ten shillings in gold and silver. 3. The white Bilk handkerchief which was saturated with chloroform, and wns found tied across the month of the deceased, marked with the letter? O. W. in red silk. 3. A cigarette case of Russian luathor, half filled with cigarettes. 4. A left hand whito glove of kid—rather soiled—with black seams down tho back. Samuel Gorby, of tho detective office, was present in order to see if anything might be said by tho witnesses likely to point to tho cause or to the author of tho crinio. SAMOTII. OORDY. The first witness called was Malcolm Roy- rtoii, in whoso cab tho crinio bad been committed. Ho told the same story as had already appeared in Tho Argus, and the following facts were elicited by tho coroner: Q. Can yon give a description of the gentleman in tho light coat who was holding the deceased when you drove un? A. I did nut observo liini very closely, as my attention ivas taken up by the deceased; and, besides, thogenUnm.'m in tlio light coat was in the shadow. Q. Describe him from what you saw of him. A. Ho was fair, I think, because I could see his mustache, rather tall, and in evening dress, with a light coat over it. I could not see his fa.c;; very plainly, as ho \voro a soft felt lint, which was pulled down ovorhiseyes. Q. What kind i>f hat was it, ho wore—a wide awake; A. Yes. Tin; brim was turned down, and I could only see. his mouth and mustache. Q. What did he say whan you asked him if he knew the deceased? A. Ho said ho didn't; thar. ht« had just picked him up. Q. And afterwards he seemed to recognize him? A. Yes. When the deceased looked up ho said "You. 1 " and let him full on to the ground; then ho walked away toward Bourko street Q. Did he look back-? A, Not that I Rtw. Q. How long wero you looking after him? A. About a minute. Q. And when did you see hini again? A. After i put deceased into tho cab I turned round uud found him at my elbow. Q. And what did ho say? A. I said, "Oh! you'vo corno back," and he said, "Yes, I've changed my mind, and will see h:;u lionie," and then ho got into the cab, and told mo to drive to St. Kilcta Q. Ho spoke then as if ho knew the deceased? A. Yes; 1 thought that ho only recognized him when lie looked up, and perhaps, having iad a row with him, walked away, but thought he'd como back, Q. Did you see him coming back? A. No; tho first 1 saw of him was at my elbow when I turned. Q. And when did ho get out? A. Just as 1 was turning down by the grammar school, ou tho St. Kilda road. Q. Did yon hear any sounds of fighting or struggling in the cab during tho drive? A. No; the road was rather rough, and the noise of the wheels going over tho stones would have prevented me bearing anything. Q. When the gentleman in tho light coat got out did be appear disturbed? A. No; he was perfectly calm. Q. How could you tell that? A. Because the moon had risen and I could l-'a plainly. Q. Dd "i:-.j seo hi.3 fnce t!:c:i? A. No; his hat was pulled down over it. I only sa-v as much ns I did wiien ho entered tho eali i:. Collins sire:-!. Q. \\'s:-t> I any way; A. No; t! -was t.liuu his !:','.-> tiivn o:- uL'arranjjcd in • r!H7(--iViK':> I s:v.v in coat was Uittonoil. Q. And -.VMS it o no: i A. No; Luc it the dcfi-£;si". I. Q. Tl:t!l h« I baclc aud put. A. Yes, 1 r-' ._.;i he ;;ot in? ho was holding up l:utto:i,"d it inv.i. ihe c.i'.>.< , -i!)OSI> SO. M nut ]:•[ uld wall; here you wore i:i:d lain w • 1 to-; ... S ;,i,j ..I,., t t!;o deceased lived reet or Aeklaml street, St, he r!ecc«.si>,l would direct mo cab on t!i,; IS A. !!:• S-li:l ! ';•!! th:j dl'.va:;,': 1 V.'OI him tab- hi.u !;<,!.,.-, ; ,.i u l tluit ho wi back to X T .e!l)'.::r!i!.;. '• Q. Anil VIM. ii: drive the d':--;-:^ r A. YOS; (.;;;] ! either in Grey s: Kilda, but that at the Ji.iin.iiou. '• Q. DM you not think that the deceased wad too drunk to direct you* A. Yes, I did; but his friend said that tho sleep and the shaking ot the cab would sober him a bit by tho time 1 got to the Junction. Q. The gentleman in the light coat apparently did not know where the deceased lived* A. No; he said it was either in Ackland street or Grey street. Q. Did you not think that curious? A. No; 1 thought be might be a club friend of the deceased. Q. How long did tho man in the light coat talk to you* A. About five minutes. Q. And during that timo you heard no noise in tha cab* A. No; I thought tha deceased had gone to sleep. Q. And after tho man in the light coat said good night to the deceased what happened? A. He lit a cigarette, gave me a half sovereign, and walked off towards Melbourne. Q. Diil you observe if the gentleman in the hgbt co.it had his handkerchief with Jum? A. Oh, yea; because ho dusted his boots with it. Tlio road was very dusty. Q. Did you notice any striking peculiarity about lnoi? A. \Vijl, uo; except that ha vrora a diamond rinsr. y. What was there peculiar about that! A. Ho wore it on the forefinger of the right hand, and t never tow it that way before. Q. When did you notice this! A. When ha tvas lighting 1 his cigarette. Q. How often did you call to the deceased when you got to the JunetidnJ A. Three or four times. I then got down, and found he was quite dead Q. How was he lying? A. He was doubled up in the far corner of the cab, very much in the same position as I left him when I put him in. His head was hanging on one side, and there was a handkerchief across his mouth. When I touched him ho foil into tho other corner of the cab, and thon I found out he was dead. I Immediately drove to tho St. Kilda police station and)old the police. At tho conclusion of Royston's evidence during which Oorby had been continually taking notes, Robert Chinston was called. Ho deposed: I am a duly qualified medical practitioner, residing in Collins street East 1 madea post mortem examination of tho body of the da- ceased on Friday. Q. That was within a few hours after his death? A. Yes; seeing from the position of the handkerchief and tho presence of chloroform that he had died through chloroform, and knowing how quickly that poison evaporates, I made tho examination at onco. Coroner: Go on, sir. Dr. Chinston: Externally, the body was healthy looking and well nourished. There were no marks of violenca The staining apparent at the back of the legs and trunk was due to post mortem congestion. Internally, the brain was hypernemic, and there was a considerable amount of congestion, especially apparent in the superficial vessels. There was no brain disease. The lungs were healthy, but slightly congested. On opening the thorax there was a faint spirituous odor discernible. Tho stomach contained about, a pint of completely digested food. The heart was flaccid. The right heart contained a considerable quantity of dark, fluid blood. There was a tendency to fatty degeneration of that organ. 1 am of the opinion that deceased died from tho inhalation of some such vapor as chloroform or methyleno. Q. You say there was a tendency to fatty degeneration of tho heart. Would that have anything to i;o with the death of deceased? A. Not of itself. But chloroform administered whilo tho heart was in such a state would havo n decided tendency to accelerate' tin- fntal result. At the s-ime time, I may niHiitioii that tlio postmortem signs of poisoning by chloroform are mostly negative. Dr. Chinston was t.lmn permitted to retire, a.nil Clemeuf, Rankin, nm.Hier hansom rab- iiirin, was failed. Hu depose,I: 1'am a cabman, living in Collingwood, aud usually drivo u. liansn;n cab. 1 remember Thursday last. I had driven a party down to St. Kilda, and was returning about half-past I oVIofk. A. short distance past the grammar school I w.-.s hnilod by a gentleman in a light coat.; he was smoking a cigarette, and told me to drivo him to Powlett .street, East Melbourne. I iliil so, and lie got out at the corner of Wellington parade and Powlett street, lie paiiI ,11,. i alf n sovcraigu for my farei ami then v.- a !k;.il up Powlett street, whilo 1 cli'ov*' b;u:!»- !.,> town. Q. \Vh;U t.iui'j w:is it yon stopped at Pow- letr, street.- A. Two o'clock exactly. Q. How ilo yon know? A. Because it was a still night, and 1 heard the posto.'Ik-o clock strike ^o'clock. Q. Did yon notice anything peculiar about tlio man in tlio light coat* A. .No; he looked just the same as any one eiso. 1 thought ho wnssomeswell of the town out for a lark. Mis hat was pulled down over his eyes and 1 could not see his face. (J. Did you notice if ho wore a ring? A. Yes, 1 did. IVhcn ho was handing me the linli sovereign 1 saw ho had a diamond ring on the t'oreiuiger of his right hand. Q. ilo did not say why he was on tho St. Kilda road at such an hour? A. Xo; he did not. Clement llankin was than ordered to stand down, and tho coroner then summed up an address of half an hour's duration. There was, ho pointed out, no doubt that tho death of tho deceased had resulted not from natural causes, but from the effects of poisoning. Only slight evidence had been obtained up to the prc-bvnt time regarding tho circumstances of the ru*e, but the only person who could bo accus;\l of committing the crime was tho unknown man who entered the cab with the deeeasad on Friday morning at the corner of tho Scotch church, near the Burke and Wills monument. It had boon proved the dec-eased, when he entered the cab, was, to all ap;.'i>:i:-;inc<.>s, in good health, chough in a state of intoxication, and tho fact that he was found by the ,.-abman Roys ton, after tho man in the light eoat had left the cab, with a h.-nidkcrchie.' 1 .saturated with chloroform tied over hi* r.i.nitb, would seem to show that shaving in a somewhat mechanical fashion for his thoughts were with the case, and HM! on in this manners There are three things to bo discovered— First, who is the dead man ? Second, what was he killed fort And third, who did it* Once 1 get hold of the first tkootCtwo won't be very hard to find out, for 0 iJe can tell pretty well from a'man% life whether it's to any one's Interest that he should be Rot off the books. The man that murdered that chap must have had some strong motive and I must Qud out what that motive was. Love ? No, it wasn't that—men in love don't co to such lengths in real life—they do in novels and plays, but I've Mover seen it occurring in my experience. Robbery? No, there was plenty of money in his pocket. Revenge? Now, really it might bo that; it's a kind of thing that carries ou most people further than they want to go. There was no violence used, for his clothes weren't torn • so he must have been taken sudden and before he know what the other chap was up to By the way, I don't think I examined his clothes sufficiently. There might bo something about them to give n clew; at any rate, it's wfcrth looking after, so I'll start with his clothes " So Mr. Gorby, after ho had finished dressing and had his breakfast, walked quickly to the police station, where he asked for the clothes of tho deceased to be shown to him. When he received them he went intoa corner by himself and started to examine them. There was nothing remarkable about the coat, ns it was merely a well cut and well made dress coat, so with a grunt of dissatisfaction Mr. Gorby throw it on one side and picked up the waistcoat. Here he found something that interested him very much, and that was a pocket made on tho left hand side of tho waistcoat and on the inside. "Now, what the deuce is this for?" said Mr. Gorby, scratching his head; "it ain't usual for a dress waistcoat to havo a pocket on its inside, as I'm aware of; and," continued the detective, greatly excited, "this ain't tailors' work; he did it himself, and jolly badly he did it too. Now he must have taken tho trouble to make this pocket himself, so that no one else would know anything about it, and it was made to wry something valuable—so valuable that he had to carry it with liini oven when ho woro evening clothes. Ah I hero's a tear on tho side nearest the outside of tliw waistcoat; something has been pulled out roughly. I begin to see now. Tho dead man possessed something which tho other man wanted, nnd which ho knew tho dead one carried about with him. Ho sees him drunk, gets into the cab with him and tries to got \jfliat he wants. Tho dead man resists, ujron which the other kills him by means of tho chloroform which ho had with him, and being afraid that tho c:ib will stop, and ho will bo found out, snatches what ho wants out of tho pocket; so quickly that he tears tho waistcoat and then makes off. That's clear enough, but tbo question i.s: What was it he wanted?. A caso with jewels? Nol It could not havo been anything so bulky, or the dead man would never have carried it about, insido his waistcoat. I!; was something tint, which could easily lie in the pocket—a papci-—so:na valuable paper which tho assassin wanted, and for which ho killed the other. "This is all very throwing down the BUNCOMBE'S BUNKO MAN WHEN YOU 8GB BILL NYE COM* INQ, RUN FOR DEAR LIFE, " Me la a Bart Man from Uuiicombo, wltti Store Clothed ami Parachute Pants. Two Victims Who Kscaped—Life and Death In a Museum. [.Copyright, 1801, by Edgar W. Nye.] NEW YORK, October.—After an entire summer in the pine clad hills and fir trimmed valleys of North Carolina, New York seems to me more vociferous than ever. To a pastoral person like myself, interested in the growth of plant life, the mean annual artificial rainf.aH and the growth of glanders in equestrian circles, the exposed bowels of Broadway— as I may be pardoned for saying, I trust, since that street so forcibly reminds me, he had dieii '.).;reform, iv!,;.-.-:. ; istered. All tl;. of t:,.' (•:, jury ei'ijl verdict in The jni- absence o with ;!].• .;<h thn inhalation of ch!o- d U'i.-:i (!.' ; |iiii;rat(i!y ai!::iin obtainable o\"idoMci; in tha i.i:;r:in;.i:;l, but, n::ve:'ll:i'les.s. -: .'i'!y t hat. a iTi::i;j liail bee:-, '•• i-'inri-, ::s I In; i.-ircimi.-.ianei-s •.::;'•.! !u one ci.r.ii-lu.-,;, ':i, !.!i>! '•:.: i'.i'ii wiiii that rond'.iriion. ''•i •••• i D i-|o.':!i. and, ::', ;,•[• ;1! | i' l::: '•'•'•' ''i' a:i h:,;::-, n:tiini"d vi.-i;; •.•,•!•! !.!..••„• "Ti.;,.t th.j ile- well," said Mr. Gorby, waistcoat, and rising, "1 have found number two before number one. Tho first question is: Who is tho murdered man'! He's a stranger in Melbourne, that's pretty clear, or else some ono would bo sure to have recognized him before now by the description given in the reward. Now, i wonder if ho has any relations hero? Private lodgings more like, and a landlady who doesn't read the papers and doesn't gossip, or she'd have known oil about it by this timo. Now, if he did live, ns 1 think, in private lodgings, and suddenly disappeared, his landlady wouldn't keep quiet. It's a whole week since tho murder, and as the lodger has not been seen or heard of, tho landlady will naturally muko inquiries, K, however, as 1 surmise, the lodger is a stranger, she will not know where to inquire, therefore, under these circumstances, tho most natural tlun<; for her to do would be to advertise for him"; so I'll havo a look at tho newspapers." Mr. Uorby got a Ole of the different newspapers, and looked carefully m the columns where missing friends and people who will hear something to their advantage are generally advertised for. "Ha was murdered," said Mr. Gorby to himself, "on a Friday morning, between 1 and 2 o'clock, so 1m mi;;.a stay away till Monday without exciting any suspicion. On Monday, however, the landlady would begin to feel uneasy, and on Tuesday she would advertise for him. Therefore," said Mr. Uorby, running his fat linger down ti:e column, "Wednesday it is." It did not appear in Wednesday's paper, •.-.cither did it in Thursday's, but in Friday's issue, exactly one wool: after tho murder, .\<r Oorby suddenly camo on tho following liiVC-Tlisem'JIlt: "If .">1.r. Oliver Whyte rlor-s n.ot return to 1'os-sum Villa, Un.iy snvnt, St. ICilda, bot'orh tho end of the week, |-,i.s rooms will bo let again.—Hi:bin;i llnbloton." "Oliver U'hyte," repeated Mr. Uorby slowly, "and the initials on the pocket handkerchief which were proved to have belonged to the duct-used wi;:v, '(.). \V'.' So his name is Oliver Whyto, i.s it* Now, 1 wonder if ilubina Uableton knows anything about this matter. At any rate," said Mr. G-orby, putting on his hat, "as I'm fond of sea luve;:e.s, 1 think i'Jl godowji undcall at l\Jo:;um Villa' Grey street, St. Kilda." (To he Cuhliiiit;',!.'i and said and :..! CIIAi'TKR 111. V- K. MURDER. £100 UKWAlifi. "Whereas, on Friday, tho 27th day of July, tho body of a man, name unknown, w.m found in a hansom cab. And whereas, at an inquest held at St. Kilda, on tho 30th day oi 1 July, a verdict of willful murder, against some person unknown, was brought in by th« jury. The deceased is of medium height, with ["a dark complexion, dark hair, clean shaved, has a mole on the left temple, ami was dressed in evening dress. Notice is hereby given that a reward of £100 will bo paid by tho government for such information as will lead to the conviction of the murderer, who is presumed to bo a man who entered the hansom cab with the deceased at the corner of Collins and Kussell streets, on tha morning of the 27th day of July." CHAPTER IV. MB. GORBY MAKES A START. "Well," said Mr. Gorby, addressing his reflection in the looking glass, "I've been finding out things these last twenty years, but this is a puzzler, and no mistake." Mr. Gorby was shaving, and as was his usual custom conversed with bis reflection. "Hang it," he said, thoughtfully stropping his razor, "a thing with on end must have a start, and if I don't got the start how ato I to get tho end H" As the mirror did not answer this question, Mr. Gorby lathered his and started ' I-'tM'fect action und- perfect huultli result from the iw. of DtiVViit'.s Liuie -burly Kissers, a peii'ect little pill. She—I love all that is grand, noble nuijestic and beautiful. lie—Tliauk you very miu'.b, Miss Bos- tori, but—er—really you embarrass me. —Munsey's Weekly. \Ve cannot afford to deceive you. Confidence is begotten by honesty. De Witt's Little Early Risers are pills that will cure constipation and sick headache. "I feel it just as much, my dear little boy," said papa after he had spanked BiJJykins. "Y-yes," sobbed Billykins. "B-but n-uot in the s-s same p p-place."—Life. De Witt's Barsaparilla cleanses the blood, increases the appetite and tones up the system. It has benefited many people who have suffered from blood disorders. It will help you. "He is not a beau of yours, is he?" "Yes." "He calls on me oi'tener than on you." "Yes; I told him the days you were not at home."—Life. Don't storm the system as you woul<l a fort. If held by the enemy, coi^n.-i- lion, gently persuade it to surrender with DeWitt/s Little Early Risers. These little pills are wonderful convipeers. green THE RUSTIC BUNCOHBE. with its open expression and exposed pipes, conduits and canals, of the man on the title pa.ge of the zodiac—Broadway, with its hurry and rush and business and omitted dividends; its torn and disfigured surface; its crowds of young men who brag about being such rooeys, as the French say, when in fact they are not or they would not blow so much about it; its flocks of beautiful girls with bright, new, becoming frocks; its gangs of patient toilers, who are putting in the new cable at a rate which makes the old IUOKS covered street opener of New York crazy; its returning troops of brown and beautiful children, fresh from the fields where the black eyed susans and the bluebells grow, all, all bewilder a rustic from the woods of Buncombe county, N. C., and cause him to buy new clothes for himself so that he will not so readily attract the goods man. This time, somehow, when I am busier than ever, I think I am more than usually annoyed by these people. A very disagreeable thing occurred to me not long ago. It was different from anything I had ever before experienced. I was in the well known publishing house of the Scribuers, looking at new books in the salesroom and especially admiring a beautiful volume of ••Hiawatha," illustrated by Remington, who makes such truthful frontier horses and—I had almost said such truthful Indians. _ While I was thus engaged I saw at a distance a Chicago gentleman who published a book for me once. I met him when we made the contract, about five years ago, and expected to see him every sixty days after that, at which times I was to receive statement and check, but instead of all this he began to build and also bought a team. Well, for those reasons I did not see him any more, and so was not quite sure that it was he—in fact it was not, but I felt sure it must be. However, I was well dressed and wished to let the Chicago man know that we New Yorkers are a courteous ami kindly race of people, so, as I looked well and had my new fall hat, 1 thought I _ would ask him up t.o my club, blow him oft', as it were, have dinner with cake and preserves, and practically have ones tobeby- time of it. .aHowiu gones. J sailed ;.•;;! vly up to him and assumed a well bred attitude which my coachman has tauyht me on rainy days this summer. ••Good morning, Mr. Skeo/i::," 1 said. Slcee;;i.\- va:s not tlio name of the man 1 knew, but it ought to be. "Good moim- ing, Mr. Skw.i.-. When did you leave Chicago?" De loukiy.l at mo an one docs who has . been bunkoed only a wei-k or so before ! and who.s-? i^tering wound i;j torn open afre.«Ji by ;•.. .'lev,' bunko man. He turned a lit.tie p:dc and put his band to the pocket whidi coiitiiined his pass. With the other hand he felt for the bright, now and massive watch chain with the gold horse hanging from it as a charm. "That is not my name, sir," he said, with dry lips and husky voice. "The nif^i you want is coming this evening. He has a car load of watermelons." "No," 1 said, "he is not in the watermelon line. He is a publisher. Are you not Mr. Skeeaix?" "No, sir; I am not Mr. Skeezix, and I am not going to tell you who I am so that you can go around the corner and tell your partner either." Just then Mr. Scribner came along and said "Good morning," as he called me by name, and we chatted on pleasantly about books, of which I am passionately fond, buying almost everything of value that has a, pretty binding, so that now I have one of the prettiest little libraries in. the east. I have no iold books.. I keep only the neat, new ones, with kaleidoscopic backs, so that my bookcases are perfectly resplendent. As we talked I saw the keen student of humanity who had done me the cruel wrong to take me for a bunko man. He was evidently asking the salesman something. When he had gorged his curiosity for eight or niae seconds he went out of the door hurz-iedly, leaving a large eighteen dollar Bible which he had paid for but forgot to take with him. The above ia substantially true. Oo.ce J met a gentleman at a dinner iu fit. Louis and we talked for half ah hotjjf, being neighbors at the table. Ayeai afterward 1 was in New York and did not know a single human beings and, I may add, only one married one. Suddenly on the street one day when 1 was walking—walking in imitation oJ a man who is walking toward some place which he has in hi a mind, and not succeeding very well with the imitation —all at once, when I would have given twenty dollars for the sight of a familiar face, no matter whose, I saw my dinner acquaintance corning. I need not say that I was glad, hailed him with a welcome that was no doubt a little too boisterous for New York. It was too unstudied and glad. But you must remember that a measly landlady who was constantly borrowing money of me and weeping on my vest was the only one in the city whom _ knew, and I wanted to meet some one who was healthy and normal and who could talk with me. He drew himself up to his full height, which made his little tan colored box coat look like a G-aribaldi waist on him, and said in deep chest notes—ice chest notes: "I beg your pardon, sir, but you are mistaken. I do not know you, sir. 1 I_ can still remember how nice and white his teeth were as he said it, and how he looked like a man who is having a three-quarter picture taken to send to one he loves. He was a good looking man, and as I stood there I fell unconsciously into comparing his snuff colored derby of the newest block with my hat, which was of course clean and decent, but it was a soft and shapeless little thing with no self assertion about it. 1 knew that, but still 1 did not think he would freeze me for that. It got colder a7id colder though. I told him who I was as I rubbed my chilblains and felt his icy manner calling forth the goose eruptions on my peachy surface. Hu said he had never seen me —never. 1 finally asked him if his name were not Mr. . He said it wag not. Pie lied. I went to his hotel. It gave me something to do. I was glad of it. I discovered that I was right. There was only one way to account for it. He thought vory likely that I wanted to borrow money or I would not have given him a western welcome in a city where it is not the custom. I waa too glad to see him. That was all. Since then, in the light of a riper experience, I guess he was right. The indication!? were "agin" me. But we ought not to judge people by their clothes.. We do it, of course, unconsciously. Clothes do not make tho man. but they finish him up somehow. Thare was a western judge once who reprimanded the .defendant in court for wearing such a ragged and reprehensible pair of trousers. "Judge," said the prisoner, "you must not judge me by these poor old worn trousers. It is unjust to me, judge. It is not fair or generous. My pantaloons may be popr, judge, but they cover a w;*rm heart." This is often the case. Yesterday I visited tho wonders of the museums. They are delightful. All dime museums resemble one another in one respect—they smell the same. Why should art suffer so? I am greatly interested in every little jew de sprit of nature, such as the two headed girl, the thns showing that lief liver did not ,any bettet tlian she did. "Ths was formerly that of Mary, queen of _ Scots. The artist Who done it over regards it as his great chief do&ver." I have just received here,. since 1 came to New York, Mr. Bpbert P. Potter's little brochure containing some of the most thrilling statistics that t have ever Mad. I am delighted with the work, though pained to read that during the past year death has robbed us of 765,311 horses and asses. It should be a lesson to those of ua who are still spared aa monuments of mercy, and we should so live that we may be always ready when our own summons comes to meet our fate with a glad and resonant bray. Do you not think so, Brother Porter? "Oh! how dreadfully yellow and greasy my face w getting." Bay do you know this is all caused by a rlisordered liver, and that your skin can ho changed from a dark greasy yellow to a transparent white by the use of Bcp gs ' Blood Purifier and Blood Maker? Every bottle guaranteed by F. W. Dingley. b "Yes, "said the explorer, "as my wife and I were pursuing our way through the woods we came upon a naked cannibal." "A naked cannibal? and your wife with you? How shocking!. What did. you do?" "Out of consideration for my wife's feelings I at ouco ouvtiud him with revolver." People witli impure blood may be said' to exist, not live. Life is robbed of half its joys when the blood is loaded with impurities and disease. Correct this condition with DeWitt's Sarsapnrilla, if is my reliable. various limbs and only ono boy with head, etc. Nature, when she tries to be humorcmi;, will always find an appreciative audience 221 me. As a boy I walked twelve miles to see the Siamese twins. I remember it because it was the first tune I ever ordered a dinner from a printed menu at a high price resleroio, as we called it. I look back on that dinner with horror. Preserves and terrapin, I think, constituted one course. The waiter early began to read me, as did the young man who waited on David Copperfield when he was on his way to school. He helped me order things. People came from a distance to see the goods 1 had ordered. The order was kept for years, till the restaurant burned down. If it had not been destroyed I would not havo had the courage to rise and win a deathless name. ,r, '• HE LIED. At one of the museums a group of wax figures has a breathing apparatus connected with it. A man with a spear in his watch pocket and a gaping wound with roof paint oozing out of it is breathing his life away by means of nice new rubber lungs, ths only kind that can stand the stifling and poorly ventilated air of the place. One man said to the keeper, "Sir, the air here in this museum seems fixed, does it not?" "Yes," said the museum lecturer, who is a great wag; "it was fixed by Soodoo, the six legged calf that died Thursday and is being embalmed today. We should have done it sooner. This figure, ladies and gents, is that of Eva Hamilton, the actress, who rose to sudden histrionic prominence by means of her liason. ^She did not receive that recognition by the profession which she thought she deserved, and the press was real, mean to her. She looks a little bilious in this figxu-e as you see hep here. hfi tide of strife is rising high Through fair Columbia's regions wide' And how the politicians lie! — That is, those on tho other side. Colic, Diarrhoea, Dysentery uud 'all Kindred complaints arc dangerous if allowed to run any length of time. So it is tbe duty of all parents to keep a medicine on hand at nil times that will effect a positive and permanent cure. Begas'~ Diarrhoea Balsam is guaranteed to do this. Sold and warranted by F W Dingley. "My boy, every cloud has its silver ining." "That's all right, but laven't a baloou?"—Tiuth. s'pose you- "0! how 1 dread to see my hair turn- ng gray.' 1 is a n-mark made by so many adies. If they only luicw that 75 cents nvested in one bottle of Beggs' Hair ienewer would not only check it'atonce,. )ut give it a luxurious and glossy appear- ince, we know that they would not lies- tate to buy. We guarantee every bottle.. Sold by F. W. Dingley. nr not i ' lor sale in your place a»lc your to neiid for catalogue, secure I!Kami sec them for you. Of TAKE NO SUBSTITUTE. -ur-n^-H.-s,-.^ -- - «-" i HE BEST SHOE IN THE WORLD FOR THE MOPEV3' It Is a seamless shoe, with no tucks or wax tlirt -d to hurt the feet; made of tho best (iiio call 1 , KtvJish mid easy, anil bcnausu ^l•c make marc shoes ofi.'-t-i' urailethan any other manufacturer, it cuuuls l':ii >l- scwed shoes eostiug from SJ.UU to gru'it. " ' «HjR UO (Jeiiiiine Mnnil-HotvfMl, the finest i-i'f <ilJ«^ n shoo ever offereil for eS-U'li ocumls l.'r.- i--: Imported slums which tost fj-o.-n /-"t n i t:>';\i ij ')!) 00 Iliiiul-Sjiwoel Welt' «li««V«no i'."V. stylish, comfnruililo ami durabli'. The I ••• t ., . n fids?'-. One-pair will wear .. fSi-'r) !i& finis c:i.])') DO lief tor H!.OO over «.Tj;-- -i.Jfi.-ji this price; ono trial will cuiivlm-c i •v!u> want a shoo for comfort and service. tft£» :J3 and ya.Oj) YVorki!iK»iiin'<i :' ii^jio are very strong mid dnralili!. Thosu -. • i:\va i;!veu Uumi a trial will wnr no other m:i]:e. »~.00 und syi.Jii Kdiuol sliiK-.-i worn by tho boyti even-where; tlic-' " . . .i arcs tho best due UoMyola. Htyllsli ami dura!,. • •iiunoii.— See that W. L. Douglas' name ;'i:t" -.;'o are stamped on tl.'o IK;! tom of each shoo V/n L. iiOUULAS, Broeluou, Has::. Stougli, Agent I lie Noi-theni I'aeifk! WiiiuUii'hiiMl embraces a list ot :itrm:ti<ms simply uneiuialh'd. TJ;c Twin Cities of Si,. 'j';uil ;!inl Minneapolis at the head of iiavi^ntion on the Mississippi, DuHitn, Ashhuul mill Hie Superiors at the Jiead of Litlvc Superior; in the westward, tho Lake , Orcillo and Coeur d' Alptie, Spokane City and falls, 1'aloiise, Walla Walla, Hitf Bend aud Yakiuia agricultural districts. Mt. Tacoma and the Cascade Mountains, Tac-oma, Seattle, Puy- allu)i Valley, Siioqualmn Kails l j u(jet Sound, the Columbia Ifiver. Portland and the on and , . the Willamette Valley, Cray's Ifculw ami City Wijlapa, Harbor and City of South Bond, Victoria Vancouver's Island, Alaska ou the north, California on the south. The JSorthern Pacific runs two daily express i rains with liiniug Car and complete Pullmau Service between St Paul and Tacoma and Portland, VIH Helena aud Butte with Through Tourist and Vestibuled Pullman Sleepers from and to Chicago via Wisconsin Central, aud first class through sleeping ear service In eon- uection witu the Chicago, Milwaukee & tit. Paul Ky. Passengers from the east leaving St. Louis in the forenoon and Chicago in the afternoon, will make close connections with the moraine: train out of St. Paul at a :0» a. in. following day ;leavin be made wi the next afternoon. Yellowstone Park Season, June 1st to- October 1st. District Passenger Agents of the Northern Pacific Kailroad will take pleasure in supplying inform atioji, rates, maps, time tables, etc.. or application can be made to CHA.S. 3. KKB, O. P. A.. St Paul, Minn. Write to above address for the latest and, best map yet published of Alaska—just out. . . . g Chicago at night, connection will ith Train No. 1, leaving bt.Paul 4 :15 Every day sees some new buo!;, but \ve have »cen recently not ono ot'sueh |.;vm-nil interest to :he former us that publish'*] i.y "JONES OV UlNGHAMTON," nt Uinjrbtiuuuu, N. Y., en- jtlod "Fucts about Sculos," und gives )Atents, &o., and is sent free as uu aeut. 4 postal card will got it.

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page