Evening Star Newspaper, December 7, 1895, Page 17

- THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1895—TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. 17 A BROTHER'S WIFE ——_-. -— BY 8 BARING GOULD, Author of “Mehalah,* “Kitty Alone," “The Queen of Love,” Ete. _———— (Copyright, 1895, by Irving Bucheller.) “My dear,” said Mr. Murgatroyd, the banker, to his wife, “it is the first Christ- ™mas without our boy, and, please heaven, it will be the ‘last; but under the circum- stances it was inevitable.” “I suppose so,” acquiesced the lady, with 3! mn in her tone. see, Eliza,” continued the banker, “we could not tell when my father would die, and, with his death and the funeral, the house would be so upset that we couldn't—really couldn’t—have Jack here with his tremendous spirits and noise. Af- ter all, it won't matter much; we can send for him next week; and I daresay he will not mind.” “I think he will mind it a great deal,” said Mrs. Murgatroyd. “He only went to school at Michaelmas, and he will be counting days till the Christmas vacation and now—" “Well, Eliza, he will have to remain oh at ‘but without school one week after the rest of the boys leave, that is all.” “But he has been making a holiday flower.” f "What is that?" ‘Oh, a sort of rose or chrysanthemum, or something of the nondescript sort of flower, with as many petais gummed on as there are days In the term. Then every day a leaf 13 removed, and by the time all are gone holiday has arrived. Poor Jack, he will have h’s stripped chrysanthe- mum-and no_ holiday. “Yes, he will have holiday, but deferred.” “Phat cuts his vacation short by a week. “It could not be helped. With my father dying, then dead in tne house, it was quite impossible to have him home till all was settled “Well,” said Mrs. Murgatroyd sich, “then next week he comes xt week he comes,” repeated her hus- with a band. “To me the privation is greater than to you. You have your servants to attend to and occupy your mind.” “But not my affections. your clerks, Samuel.” “Well, well, well,” said the banker, “we will not argue about the matter. I am happy to say that Jack's future is likely to be a fortunate one. My father has left me everything, and, of course, that means that all will eventually go to Jack.” Sothing been heard of George, I sup- And you have pose? “Oh, would.” id net your father ask after him?” “Of course he did. But what could I sa: —that we had received no favorable new: “You mean no news at all?” ‘Well, yes; none at all. But of course we know pretty well how matters go in such es “How long ago is it since your brother fell out with you?” “He did not fal) out with me at all, but with my father. I have had nothing what- ever to do with his affairs. He was inde- pendent in his ways, and independent- spirited, and did not incline to enter the bank. Tried one thing, then another; cost father a good deal; vexed himn dreadfully. nothing; not Lkely that there “Accident! Rolling stone he was, never settled to any- thing very long, and then came the crash, “Crash “Tt mean his marrying that singing girl.” “That was bad,” said Mrs. Murgatroyd, gravely. “It was certain ruin. After that— ‘The banker did not conclude his sentence. No, { suppose not,” sald his wife, who understood what was implied without more words being said. “My father did his level best for George. That cannot be denied. He offered to see him again. He might come on a visit— without his wife.” “And he refused “He refused. He said that he would not enter his father’s doors without her. Where he was acknowledged, there she must be acknowledged also." “That was hopeless,”’. said Mrs. Murga- troyd. “Quite so. We could not have a public singer cross the threshold of our banking establishment. It would not be decent. It might affect the stability of the affair. People might say he was in partnership, and those sort of creatures have expensive extravagant tastes. There is no knowing what they might draw him into—forgery, perhaps. No, of course, after this we wash- ed our hands of him.” “Your father and you?” “Yes, my father and I. est in the bank. All now is mine, not a sirpetice goes to him. If he would have cast her off, got a separation, we might have done something for aim, but with this running sore it was not possible.” “T suppose not.” “What is his Ja Le what accident?” He has no inter- loss is my gain—and en you do not know where George is? “Have fot the remotest idea. Iam much afraid—gone utterly to the bad. You see, {t wouldn't do for father and me to inquire too closely: he might hear of it, and found exper ions which never could be realized. The only wonder is that he has not trou- bled us with begging letters. But he was always proud. Perhaps he is dead!’ “and she?" “Oh, gracious! don’t ask. What can you expect of a woman of that sort? They all broad road that leads to destruc- tion, moral, social—everything.” “Please, sir, a telegram.” The servant had opened the door and ‘reached the seat of a third-class “And were many of the passengers hurt?” stood ¥ ilver salver, on which la orange envelope addressed S. Murgat | Esq., The | Mr. Murg: vd tore cpen the cover, with- He was accustome But no s articular one than his fac he started to his feet. ! what is to be done? He whene Look! ‘i from school. what is to | tated than | patch: | Your boy run away. Jones, Headma “It is all your doing, with your nonsense atcut not letting him come home, when the other boys returned for thelr Christmas. holidays!” -exclafmed Mrs. “Murgatroyd, turning on her husband with feminine in- stinct. “If the boy is lost—it is due to you. 2 “My dear, for heaven's sake, don’t begin scolding. I can’t answer you. after him. But where can he be? Whither shall I go?” < ‘You must go to the school at once. A precious schvol! To tet a boy of eight run away an-l never to lcok after him.” “No doubt they have done thar.” “I never approved at all of his going to echool.”” “My dear Eliza, it was necessary. My father could not have been able to endure the riot he made In the hous>.” “Well— any one bot a Jones. I never knew a Jones with any hear “Perhaj ou never knew a Jones.” “I read only last week in the paper of one sentenced for bigamy; he had five w “Rather tco much heart in that case,” said the banker, bitterly, and then: “This i oslasics: me unnecessarily. I must be The banker ran from his home, and made for the station. He knew that there was a train due about that time, and he hasten- ed to catch it. He did succeed in catching having had time the train, to secure —_——> f “I sny, have you a halto voice his ticket, and he flung himself into a car- riage, in spite of the shout of ‘he guard, while it was in movement. Mr. Murgitroyd was breathless wh He usually traveled second, occasionally first-cla: Lever third, as that did not con- sist with dignity, and might give peo- ession that the bank w in_ flor con Ition. He ed his brow and looked about him. The short December day had already closed in, and the lamp was lighted in the car- riage. The weather was wretched. ro snow. How seldom do we now have snow at Christmas! Sharp and bitter weather there had been, but a ehange had ensued, the snow had melted, there were floods, rain descended, cold and driving, and the night was black as Erebus. What bad become of Jack? Had_ he money? He doubted it. At the school ail pocket money was taken away the first day of term and doled out weekly in three- pences and fourpences. His boy, he had insisted, was to have sixpence. The mas- ter said this was unusual, but he had in- sisted, Whither .could. Jack have gone? He had 0 relatives, no acquaintances at Heptonstall. Was It certain that he had run away? Might not some accident have befallen him? When the rivers were swollen and had overdlowed their banks, he might haye slipped into the water and been drowned. At the thought Mr. Murgacroy groaned, ple the i There was and his distress was so apparent that the fellow travelers looked at him with com- passion. “Stomick-ache, sir?’ asked a compas- sionate fellow traveler. The banker made no reply. “Have a peppermint, sir?” said the sym- pathizing traveler. Mr. Murgatroyd took one, without know- ing what he did. As for the fortune into which he had come by the death of his father, he thought of it no more. What was wealth to him without his child to inherit it? Life itsclf was valueless to him apart from his son, in whom ail his ambition, all his pride, his love, were centered. The train moved very slowly. Without considering what he was about, Mr. Mur- gatroyd stood up and thrust against the compartment back opposite him, as if by so doing he could crive the train along quicker. His eyes rested on the unsteady Micker- ing light in the lamp. Then he threw open the window and looked forth into the night. All without was dark, and the drops of rain glittered as they caught the light frem within. The train approached a. station—a town; a haze of light, a halo surrounded the cius- ter of human habitations. In the falling rain and enveloping vapors nothing could be made out with distinctness. He lcoked he sald. ““Behindhand twenty “We shall be delayed: more than that,” said another passenger: vhy so?” <o “Because of the accident.” ceident! What accident?” ‘Have you not heard?” “Not a word.” A sweat, cold but profuse, broke out over the banker’s brow. “There was a fall in a cutting and a :rain ran into it and got off the line and was up- set. Heard it at the station when I started.” “Train!—train! What train ‘Oh! the up train.” “The up train!” Mr. Murgatroyd fell back and groaned. “We shall come before long to the place, and I presume shall have to get out of our carriages and walk. There will probably be a train to meet us. I do not suppose the rock and earth and the wreckage can have been cleared away by this time. It will be very unpleasant in the rain and in the darkness. I shouldn't have come, but that business called me. However, we shall see; we shall see.” ‘The engine slackened pace, the brake was put on, the wheels groaned, but the puffing and snorting of the engine increased, ard the steam whistle sounded. Then the train was brought to a standstill. At once win- dows were lowered, and heads thrust forth, and inquiries shouted as to what was the matter. Had anything occurred? ‘The rain beat in the faces of those who looked forth. They saw puffs of illumined steam and fires of coal pouring forth smoke and flame. ; Presently a swaying light was visible, and a vo:ce was heard shouting. The guard was com:ng down the length of the train, swing- ing his lamp and tell:ng the passengers to get out of the carriages. “Now, then, all out! and straight ahead between them fires and foller your noses.” mm. All stumbled from the train, there being no platform. There were cries, scolding; some fell and hurt themselves; some re- fused to leave their carriages unless por- ters came to their assistance to carry their packages and rugs. A lady was carrying a paper package containing Christmas pres- ents for her children. The string that con- tained the whole slipped off, and all the toys were strewn on the sleepers and be- tween them, amidst loud exclamations. There were not porters sufficient to assist all who clamored for help. A good deal of selfishness was manifest in the men pas- sengers. Availing themselves of the dark- ness and of their having no incumbrances, they slipped away without assisting the women burdened bables and bundles. ‘A succession of braziers, emitting volumes » flames and heavy stinking smoke, d where the fall had been and I » places the earth was soft, and their feet sank in above the ankles; in other places were blocks of stone, over which they broke their shins, The rain fell, the wind blew the volumes of smoke in their faces. Underfoot was mud. Every one was ‘t of temper; some women crying, children frightened and screaming. “Now, then, move on, pleas ll of the guard and porters. Mr. Murgatroyd, regardless of every one in his prépossession of the idea that his son might have been, and probably had been, in the train that had been injured, scrambled over the fallen stones, waded through the m rth, slipped, picked himself up, went down on his knees, recovered himself, then insisted on particulars relative to the accl- dent from the guard, and was snubbed for was the ce so doing. He applied to the porters—they were too busy to attend to him. He staggered over the accumulations of fallen rock and soil, till he came on a batch of navvies engaged in removing it, and saw beyond the wreckage of a train. He im- diately inquired of a workman what had happened, when the accident had taken place, who had been hurt, whether many had been injured. ET must ge, The was disposed to be insolent, but the banker pressed half a sovereign into his clay-stained hand. The fellow held it to the’ nearest brazier to ascertain that the coin was not a farthing or a sixpence, and when he discovered that he had been given gold, at once became communicative. “Well, yer see,” said he, confidentially, “TI wasn’t ere when it ‘appened, but from wot Tve ‘eared 'twas a reg’lar smash-up. Yer see, the fall o’ the sidin’ took place just afore the train came up, and there wasn't no warnin’, so she ran slap-bang into it all, and then the ingin biler busted, and there you see the ingin lyin’ off the rails on ‘er side like a killed pig. t “And were many of the passengers hurt?” “Oh, lots. Legs and arms and all that broke, and screaming awful.” “A boy, a little Iad, I mean, hardly more than a child?” “Oh, for that, lads and lasses as well. ‘Twas a reg’lar carnation.” Carnage he meant; Mr. Murgatroyd understood him. “I wasn’t ere,” pursued the man. “I wor sent on wi’ my pals to clear the line; and now, sir, I must be at my work, or, by jig- gers, I'll ketch it.” Mr. Murgatroyd, satisfied that he could ob- tain no further information from the navvy, and doubtful whether what he had obtained was reliable, now pushed on to where the fragments of the broken carriages lay. These were being removed with the greatest rapidity. Railroad companies do their ut- most to efface all traces of an accident with promptitude and dispatch. Lines were torn, rails bent, sleepers started out of their posi- tions. The banker went amidst the ruined car- rlages. ‘Now then, now then!” said an official, “not this way, please. Don’t you see your train over yonder? Get along like greased lightning and in, or she'll leave you in the lurch.” “I do not want the train,” answered Mr. Murgatroyd. “I want to know about my boy. Is he hurt? Where is he? Was he in the train that ran off the rails?” “How am I to know? Ask them as does,” was the churlish retort. “But whom am I to ask?” “Find out for yourself. I'm not here to answer "questions, but to keep the idfo movin’ on.” “I insist on knowing,” gaid the distressed father. “Then find some one on whom you can in- sist,’ answered the functionary, moving away. Mr. Murgatroyd sought the foreman and put the question to him: ‘How many had been injured?| Who were the injured?” “Look here,” answered the man addressed, “be you for the press?” “No, I'm not; Iam a fathe ‘Oh, father be blowed. If you was on the press I might ha’ done something for you.” “Place yourself at my disposal—here is a sovereign.” “Oh! exclaimed the horse of another color. m to the bank. man, “that's a Now, then, step What is it you “I want to know whether my son was in the cerriages that were smashed, and, if so, what has hecome of him?" “T've feelings mysel said the super- intendent.* “I'll tell you wot. One of two things has happened. If he was in the train and didn't get knocked to bits and was up to it, he’s gone on to his destina- tion. You passed @ train, didn’t you?” “Yes."" “Well, all a3 could went on in that.” And those who couldn't?” “They was took to the public ‘ouses,.and anywhere where they could be took in roundabouts. That's where you must look for him. That's what you must do, sir, trot about among the publics, and see if he’s there; if he ain't, trot ‘oie. I've feel- ings.” Mr. Murgatroyed climbed the bank and threw himself over the railings inclosing the grounds belonging to the railway com- pany, and Yegan to wade through a plowed field, with the clay as consistent and te acious as glue. After laboring alon: some way he halted. Whither was he going? Where was the gate to the field? Would he reach it with the boots on his feet? He turned back and recrossed the rails, redescended the bank, and asked the way of a workman. He was bidden follow the lines, pass the train in w; ing, and he would come to a bridge where the high road was carried over the line. He must ascend to that, and then he could not miss his way. Accordingly he obeyed the instructions tven him. ‘Now, then, where are you going?” shouted the guard of the train waiting for the passengers. “Look alive, jump in! You're not going along the line.”” Mr. Murgatroyd persisted. He reached the bridge. The bank beside was trampled into steps, and the railing torn down. By this way had those who had escaped un- injured from the wrecked train left the scene of the accident, and by this way had those been removed who had been hurt and killed. A red lamp glared like an e eye upon the place where the great disaster bad occurred, and as a threat to the bank- er that he mest expect the worst. He was resolved in mind that his son had sought ! to return home by this identical train which had crashed into the fallen masses of rock and earth. Whither should the boy go but home? He had not come by an earlier train, or he would have reached his destination. If he had escaped unharmed, he might have, he probably would have, deen conveyed over the mass of debris and teen whirled homeward in the train that had passed with a whiz and a flash of light as he came in the opposite direction. If so, by this time he was safe In his mother’s arms. But there was the chance that he had suffered, that he was lying in one of the refuges opened hastily for the accom- modation of those injured, and before re- turning home he must make sure whether this were so or not. On the bridge a party of carolers were walking, shouting out snatches of the Christmas hymn: “Christians, awake, salute the happy morn Whereon the Sayior of the world was born.” “Middlin’—about there.” It was evening, night rather, not morn- Ing, not approaching to morning, but that did not concern the singers, who saw noth- ing inappropriate in their song. The banker ran after the carolers, ac- costed them, and inquired where the in- jured persons were. “There's some at the Horse and Jockey,” he was answered. “Where's that?” “Right ahead—the way we are going. I say, have you a halto voice; our halto’s furred his pipe up with his parkin cake agd beer, and ain't no good at all. The sing- ing don’t go pretty without a haito. It’s like ‘playing a toon on a fiddle wi’ one string broke.” Tit. Mr. Murgatroyd did not pause to answer, but sped along as fast as he could walk, faster than went the lurching carolers, toward the inn, the light from which he could see like a luminous tangle of floss silk in the rain and fog. He rushed into the house. Men were standing in the passage, others were in the bar. The landlady was running about in semi-distraction. She caught a glimpse of the anxious father. “It’s no use,” she called, ,“‘can’t give another bed. All's ockepied, wot with them as is brought from the accident and wot we wants our- sel: It's no use, nobody can attend to y replied ‘ the about the suf- ‘I don’t want a room, banker. “I want to know ferers, who they are—" “I can’t attend to nobody, my head and hands is full,” retorted the landlady, and rushed up the steep stairs. He appealed to the landlord, who took matters composedly. ““Middlin’—about three.”” Is one of them a boy?" “Well, you may call him a boy ff you like, but he’s a gen’leman.” ‘My son was every inch that." ‘And is in the commercial line. Hi terrible put out because of his samples. “Oh! Who are the others?” “There’s a woman—got her back broken, I fancy.” “And the third?” “Let's see, Jim"—to a friend—“‘that' stoker as was scalded.” the 4 “There's mare, at the George.” Where is the ‘ger’ “Dun ‘now.’ pactesatied re Leger found an: .e] Te Beery of a lad—a little lad— anywhere?” “Let's see. y.¢ Jim, wasn’t there a mite 0’ a lad tooked to the doctor’s?” “To the doct@gs%9, Where is the doc- tor’s house?” “You go ahead. —It’s a square house wi’ all the flues gathered into one chim- bley in the mitt: id all the roof from all the walls up about that chim- bley. It caught fire once—that is, the “kitchen flue didand it was of night, and folks said that the house with its queer rcof and chimbiey yas like a volcaney. They calls the No now Vesuvius. Ax ary chap where Vesuvius is and they'll show you.” e- Mr. Murgatroyd left the house and hast- ened in the direction of the surgeon’s dwelling. He had not far to walk, the house lay beside the highway. He caught up the carolers, who had passed the Horse and Jockey without their hymn, aware that sufferers were within, and that the people of the tavern were too occupied to Tegale them. “Telt-me,” said the banker, ‘‘where is the dector’s house—I mean Vesuvius?” “Rignt ahead. There you are. Sorry you ain't a halto, or you'd ha’ been useful.” The banker opened an iron gate, ran through the little garden and paused at the front door. After sone delay the door was opened by a maid, and Mr. Murgatroyd thrust him- self into the hall, as the narrow passage leading to the staircase would be desig- nated. “I say—the boy—who fs hurt—who— where—" He could hardly speak, he was so agi- tated. At that moment he heard a voice: “Where's my papa? I want to go to him.” With.a smothered cry Mr. Murgatroyd jashed past the maid; he had recognized his son's voice; he deigred no explanation, offered no excuse for his conduct, as he usked to the stairs, ren up them and hed into the bed room at the stair head, hence a light streamed through an oper loor and the well-known teres had ued. There the father stood dazzled, unable for a moment to see anything distinctly: he had been in the darkress, now he was na room jn which blazed a lamp. When his eyes accommodated them- selves to the Nght he saw a lady with a ‘y sweet face stcoping over a bed, with rer arm under the head of a chile who was in it, caressirg the little hot cheek and kissing the clammy brow. She haa not seen him enter. She had heard the steps, and concluded they were those of the returning maid. She swayed the suffering child in her arms, and catch- ing the notes of the carolers in the dis- tance, sang, with a clear musical voice: “Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in it's wings. Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace, Hail the Sun of Righteousness!" “My son—my son! cried the eager, agi- tated father, running forward and throw- in himself by the bedside. “Papa! exclaimed the boy, ard put out his hands and drew his father’s head to him to kiss. “I knew you'd come. You won't he angry at my running away from echool?” “Angry with you, my dear!” The agitated father could say no more. Presently he rose and said in a shaking cuse ny intrcsion. F heard his voic in the passage. ‘ “Lam glad you have come,” the lady an- swered. “Your:little. boy is shaken, bruis ed, frightened, in a nervous condition, but there is no material harm Gone. My hus- band is “a surgeon, and he has exgmined him thoroughly. No bores are broken; there are some contusions, that is all. What he needs is a good sleep, and L trust he will get that, now he has seen you. He hes been worrying because he thought you would be angry at his running away from school." “Set your mind at rest,” said Mr. Murga- troyd to his boy. “Jack, you hear what the good lady says. You must try to go to sleep.” will, papa, if you wish it wish it above everythirg. “Let me hold your hard, then.” So the little hot hand was thrust into the father’s cold palm; and Mr. Murgatroyd sat on the bed looking at his son. “Please go on singing,” said the child to the lady who was nursing him. She smiled, and recommenced: “Hark, the herald angels sin So they sat, he of the bed, clasp!ng his child's hand, she with her arm under the little head, crooning the Christmas hymn in a voice like that of a dove, soft, sweet, low, becoming lower imperceptibly as the child dozed off, and then ceasing. “I cannot sufficiently thank you,” said the banker, in a choking voice. Tears were in his heart. Tears of thankfulness to heaven that his son was safe, tears of gratitude to the sweet, kind woman who had nursed the child as her own son. The hours of the night passed. Toe surgcan had et retucecd home. He was fully engaged that night attending to the many patients who had come under his care through the accident. But toward early morning, yet long be- fore dawn, his latch-key sounded in the lock of the front door. “There is my husband,” said the lady, with a flush of pleasure and love in her face. His step was heard on the stair—then in the room. “Well, Bessie, how is your little charge?” Mr. Murgatroyd started, he felt a spasm at his heart, and turned and saw— He started to his feet, now only releasing his son’s hand. “George! “Samuel! The brothers, so long parted, stood face to face. The carolers, dow, sang: “He spake, and straightway the celestial choir In hymns of joy, unknown before, con- spin “George,” said the banker, in a broken voice, “how can I sufficiently thank you and my—" He-coulil speak no more; his heart was full. fhe carol singers sang on: “God's bighest tor was their anthem returning under the win- still, P a Peace upon earth, and unto men good will. “George,” said. the, banker, recovering himseif, “a greaf'wrong has been done you = my poét father, and no less by me. A wrong to yoo—and to your dear wife. It shall be my first duty to redress this wrong.” “Not a word ‘about, wrongs now,” said the surgeon. “I was a bit of a scapegrace. If I am steady and. hard-working now, I owe it to her.” ‘He looked tenderly at his wife. “George,” said the banker, “it is now Christmas day.,The boy is getting on. Positively he must be taken home to his mother this day, and you and your wife— my sister-in-law—must dine with us.” “No,” said the surgeon, “that cannot be. The sufferers demand my presence here. Your boy—my nephew—cannot be removed. I will wire as soon as possible to his mother to come here. We will all keep Christmas together under my roof.” And now the pealing of Christmas bells came through the window, mingled with the song of the carolers: “Peace, upon earth, and unto men . good The brothers held each other’s hands, and the tears that had long been held back rolled down the banker's cheeks. “Bessie! sister,” he stammered, ‘let me kiss you. ‘Peace upon earth, and unto men good will.’ (The end.) DANDRUFF IS AN ENUDATION. FROM THE pores of the sealp that spreads and dries, forming seurt and eausing the Hall's Hair Renewer cures It. hair to fall out. REV. MRS. - COLLMAN. Her Father, Her Boy and Herself Praise Paine’s Celery Compound, Women preachers, as well as women lawyers, Wouen yoters, women bicyclists and women in business, ure making it more and more that “the Jer sex" Is not necessarily wenker sex, cally, mentally or physically. Rey. Mrs. Lydia Colman is an example of the wermanly wou, where influence for good in the community is on a par with that of the wauly man. She js not one of that silly class of persous who, broken down in health by mental or bedily strain, hot quite sick encugh to be abed, put off thinking seriously of ge.ting well. Improperly nourished nerves and poor bleed svon pile up a desperate number of disorders. Ou the othe hand, when reduced health and spirits are early recognize: und courageously taken in hand at once, when Paine's celery compound & used to restore the integrity of the nerves wd blood, 1 further trouble is to be feared. Paine’s celery compound at once corre:ts any Un heaithy condition of the nervous. sy: It for wards the richest possible elements of srowth to every nerve cell and the remotest nerve thread throughout the body. Paine’s celery compound positively and perm hently cures every form of nervous detility and ex- havstion—melancholla, hysteria, headaches, dys- pepsia, neuralgia and disordered heart and lver. ‘The great number of enthusiastic, unstudied testimonials from men and women living in wi CHICAGO'S F' ANCES, Her Treasury Empty and the Mayor In Stenits. Chicago Special to the New York Tribune. Mayor Swift says he !s tired of endeavor- ing to awaken the people of Chicago to a realization of the seriousness of the situa- tion. The mayor gave vent to his feelings at a meeting of business men and others at the Palmer House recently, called by the civic fedcration to talk over the affairs of the town. There ‘s no city in the country in such a bad way as Chicago, the reason being that such absurdly low valuation is put upon real and persenal property that the rate of taxation, although very high, does not bring in enough money to run the city properly. The mayer spoke his mind Friday. “J will not do a thing,” he said. “to add to the present $5,000,000 floating debt of the city, no matter what may happen. There should be 500 men added to the police force, but this can't be done, although extra of- ficers are needed. Our fire department is badly crippled, being In need of more men and improved apparatus, but we have no money to do anything with. We will give up all street cleaning in a day or two, just as soon the $3,000 row available {ts ex- hausted. any of the bridges and viaducts are positively dangerous to cross, and I will undoubtedly have ts close some of them up t soon for the protecticn cf life. “The humiliating spectacle of the mayor of so large a city as this asking and re- ceiving alms has been witnessed, for I had to accept $7,000 as a gift from Mr. Yerkes to fix some bridges and viaducts I inte: to close, but his street railroad needed them and he gave me the money. “We ere at our wit's end to raise money to pay expenses, and the controlier spend: all his time either evading or pacifying the city’s creditors. Chicago has to pay 15 or 20 per cent mere for what it buys than a private individual, as it is compelled to ask for a year's or hteen months’ credit on everything. You will see crowds of men at the controller's office every day demanding the money due them. New York, with not half the street mileage we have to clean, appropriates $3,500,000 yearly for cleaning furposes, while Caicako appropriates $250, 000, and $183,000 of that this year was spent before election. It is a shame and a dis- grace.” ded | separated states is one of the best evilences of hew Paine’s celery compound is regarded all over the country. Woren’s pecullar life brings a languor and list- lessness that are best met by Paine’s celery com- pound. ‘The dispirited condition, the backaches, the neuralle headaches, the sleeplessness and nervous debility, that so frequently attack women when the'r ilood is robbed oy ite vitality is soon <lispelled when Faine’s celery compound Is used. Mrs. Colman, welting, October 30, from her home, 157 Sestt strect, Wilkesburre, Penn., says: “Fully appreciating the benefits from the use of Pai ery compound, I recommend it to others, Suffecing from sleeplessness and nervous debility, I was persuaded to use this truly greatest of remedies. AltLough T can have every medicine from my brothers, the druggists here, I gave Paine's celery compound a trial, and must confess only to my benefit. My only boy, four years old, was also treated with it, aud his nervousness has disap- peared. My father, Rev. C. Kuehn, with whom I live, thinks a great deal of Paine's celery com- pound, I shall always keep it in the house.”* ‘There are untold numbers of women who are working and worrying enough to drive them into their graves if Paine’s celery compound were not always in thelr homes to strengthen and restore their brains and nerves when there was great need v of it. Prices Among the Ancients, From the New York Times. In reading the stele found by the Ameri- can School of Classical Studies at Athens, which is a sacrificial calendar, a kind of current account of values, some important deductions can be arrived at as to the worth of animals in Greece some 340 years before Christ. As to the pig, he was es- timated rather by his weight and appear- ance than by his age. A high price was allowed in acccrdance with the condition of the animal. Sometimes sixteen and seven- teen drachmas are given, against eleven and twelve for the various grades of | sheep. Barley is estimated at four aboli the peck, which, according to Mr. R. B. | Richardson, would find an equivalent in twelve cents, We sell barley cheaper than that today, though we do not eat it, but malt it for beer. A pig for three drachmas, of about fifty cents, is cheap, irrespective ofysize, according to recent Chicago quo- tations That distinguished German, Boeckh-Frankel, who has given particular attention to the subject of anc‘ent values, States that the ratio of prices of sheep and oxen was one to five. Thus, a sheep in the best period of Athens was worth from ten to twenty drachmas, and an ox from fifty to one hundref. On the sacrificial calendar sheep are worth twelve drachmas, and sometimes eleven. The value of a cow or ox on the stele is less than one hundred; therefore the Boeckh proportion is not ex- aculy kept up. ——_ -+e+ Interested in the Fox Bill. From the Loulsville Post. Joel H. Barbour of Barboursville, Ky., former member of the Kentucky senate, relates. an amusing story of an episode which occurred while he was in the legis- ‘lature. A bi to pay a bounty on fox scalps had been introduced by one of the | monntain members of the lower house and | was pending. One day one of the mountain | senators got a letter from a nephew buck {in his home county, and the letter read something like this: “Dear Uncle: I write to ask you to please use all of your influ- ence to have the scalp act passed tmmedi- ately. I have found a big den of old foxes and I have got the den stopped up, so they jecan’t get out. They have been shut up there for more than a week, and if you don't hurry up and have that bill passed those foxes are going to starve to death. From the Sketch. PROOF POSITIVE. “How do you know he married for money “I've seen her.” RAILROADS. B&LTIMOLB AND OHIU BAILEVAD. Schedule tn effect December 1, 1895. Leave ae from station corner ot New au jersey avenue aud © st. 08 aud Northwest, Vestivuled trains 11:80'1-m., 82) pm” For Cincinnutt, “St. Louis aod Indianapolis, Vestl- buled Luuited 4245p... Express 12:01 might. For Pittsburg and Clevelaud, Express daily 11:30 a.m. and 8:40 p.m. For Lexingtou and Staunton, 11:30 a.m. For Wirchester and way stitions, *5:30 p.m. For Luray, Natural Bridge, Roanoke, Knox! Chattancen sicicmphis and’ New Orleans, 4:10 through. Foe Sates gine oa For Baltimore, week da 37:18, 38:00, 8:20, mx 12:30, ‘32, x5 5 ZS p.m. Sundays, 8.30 gm, 4:82 pea For Frederick, 19:00, °9:30, *11x *4:30, °5:30 p.m. For Hagerstown, °11:30 a.m. and °5:30 p.m. For Boyd and way points, 9:40. 10:25 p.m. For Gaithersburg and way points, °6:00, *8:00 ap © a “: 4:33, 95:35, °°T:05, °9:40, Ras p. For Washington Junction and points, 19:00, °9:0 a.m.. ! p.m. Express trains, stopping af ffincipal stations only, °4:30, °5:30 p.m. OYAL BLUE LINE FoR NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA. AU traine {llnminated with pintsch Mgbt. For Philadelphia. New York, Boston and the East, week days (7:00, Dining’ Car), 8:00 (10:00 a. Ci (12:30, DI Cary, 3:00 eo 10-00 oe), Sundays C200, Dine Tr, Open at 10:00 o'clock). F ing’ Cun, (8:00/a.m., Dining Gary bite Se one Oe Dining Car), ot RS ee r open agers 10:00 p.m. Thutes Parlor Cars od ail day ‘train For Atlantic City, 10:00, and 11:20 a.m., 12:30 ‘ked from hotels and residences by Union Transfer Co. on orders left at ticket offices, Gi9 Pennsylvania avenue northwest, New York uvenue and 15th street and at $ R. B. CAMPBELL, CHAS. 0. 8CU cq Go™ Manager. Gen. Pass. Agt. SUUTHERN KalLWwaY. 5. (Piedweat alr Line.) Schedule ia cict November 3, 1895. All trains arrive aud ieave at Pennsylvania Passenger Station, 8:00 A.M.—Daily—Locil for Danville. Connects at Mauasoas for Strasburg, daily, except Susday, aad at Lynchburg with the ‘Norfolk avd Western daily, aud with C. & 0. dally for Natural Bridge wi Clittoa Forge. 11:16 a.M.—Dally—The UNITED STATES FAST MAIL carries Pullman Buffet Sleepers New York aud Washington to Jacksonville, unitiug at Char jotte with Pullman Sleeper for Augusta; also Lull- wan Sleeper New York tc New Orleans via Mont- + connectiig at Atlapta with Pullmas + for Biruainguaw, Meupbie apd St. Louis. v1 P.M.—Local for Sirasburg, daily, except Sum 4.30 P.M.—Dally—“Exposition Flyer,” Pulloia Sleeper New York and Washington to Atlante, ‘Vestibuted Duy Couches Washington to Atlanta. 51 P.M.—Dally—Local for Charlottesville. 243 P.M.—amily WASHINGTON AND SOUTH- WESTERN VESIIBULED LIMITED, Solid Train of Pullinan Vesttvuled Sleepers, Dining Cars and Day Coaches, New York to Atlanta. Pullman Sleep2re Kew York to Asheville aud Hot Springs, N.C; New York to Memphis via Birmingham, New York to New Orleans via Atlanta ai eet A end Peco f° Ptmpe via Charlotte, Columbla and Jacksonville. Vestivuled Day Coach New York to Auanta. Dining Car from Greensboro’ to Mont- ery. ‘TRAINS BETWEEN WASHINGTON AND ROUND HILL leave Washington ¥:01 A.M. daily and 4:45 PM. daily, ex Sunday, and 6:25 P.M. Sun-“ days only, for Hound Hill; 4:82 F.M., dai! Sunday, “for Twesburg, and 6:25 P. Herndva, arrive at We A.M. and 3:00 P.M daily from Round Hill, 7:08 AM. daliy, Bunday, from Herndon, and 8:34 except A.M. daily, except Sundas, from Leesburg. be a the south arrive at Washi ton 6:42 AM. 11:45 AM., 2:20 P.M. and 9: P.M. dalig. Manassas Division, 9:45 A.M. daily, except , und 8:40 A.B daily from Char lottesyMe. ‘Tickets, ing Oar reservation and information furnished at offices, Sil amc 1300 Feunsyivania ave- — and at Pennsylvania Hailroud Passenger Ste W. HB. GREEN, General . uy , General Passenger Agent. Do2t L. 3 BROWN, Gen. Agt. Pass. Dept. CHESAPEAKE AND UillO RAILWAY. Schedule in effect Nocember 17, 1805. Trains leave daily from Uuion Station (B. and Ptorvgt ine grandest in America, with ear: 5 wit the hardsomest “ind moat coudete sold traid. wer¥= ‘sslington. ice west from W; 2:25 P.M. Cincinnatt and St. U"’—Solid Vestibuied, Newly Kyyippet, Elec- lighted, Steam-ueated Train, Pullman's finest sleeping cate Washington to Cincinnatl, Indixnapolis end St Louis daily. Diaing Car from Washi: Arrive Cincinnati, 8:00 a.m; Indianapolis, am., Chicago, 5:30 p.m.; St. Louis, 6:4 p.m. Lexington, 11°10 a.m.; LoulesDle, 11:50 a.m. (i Cincinnati). 11:10 P.M. DAILY.—The fameus “F. F. V. Lim- ited. A solid Vestibuled train, with Diving Car and Pullman Sleepers for Cin-innati, Lexington and te ee rong mes eee ton to ot Springs, without © 3 Wednesdays and Daiudayer eeiee Cinvinnac, 5:50 = ; Lexington, 6:00 p.m.; Loufevilfe, 0:40 p.m. indiamapolis, 11°05 p.m.; Enicago, 7:30 am; St. Leuls, 7:30 a.m., and Hot Springs, 9:15 a.m.; com Beets in Uoten Depot for all inte. 10:51 A.M. EXCEPT. SUNDAY-—For Old Polut Ccmfort and Norfolk. Quly call Hoe. 2:35 YM. DAILY.—Exy for Gordonsvitie, Charlottesville. Wayucdurs', Siacaton and. prin cipal Virginia points, dally; for Riehmond, i. = Sunday. Pullman locations and tickets at company’s of fices, S13 and 1421 Ueuisylianja avenue. H.W. FULLER. pols General Moeemevr Agent. PENNSYLVANIA RAILBOAD. Station corner of Gth and B xtrrets, In cflect November 17, 5896. 10:30 AM. GoonSievaue Likes. Pullmae Slecping, Dining, Sucklig and Observation Cars Harrisvurg to Chicago, Cinemnati, indiauapolls, St. Louis, Cieve'-nd aod Toledo. ' Buffet Car to Harrisbui 10:30 A.M. FAST LINE.—Pallman Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. Parlor and Dining Cara, Harrist ung to Pittsbu 46 PM. CHICAGO AND ST. LOUIS EXPRESS.— Pullman Buffet Parlor Car to Hai ing and Dining Cars, Harrisburg to St. Cincinuatl, Louisvii 7:10 P.M "WESTERN ing Car to Gliicago and Harrisburg to Oi Dining Car to Crt 7:10 PM. SOUTHW! IN EXPRESS. —Pullmaa ‘Ble and Dining Curs to St. Louls, and Sleep “~< agave to _Cinciana' 10: P.M. PACIFIC EXPRESS.—Pullman Sleep ing Car ‘> Pitusburg. TRingara Falla Say, cocent Senany = Sila Sally, exept Sanaa. 10:20 KM. ‘for Eimira and Resore, dally, except ‘Su For Williamsport daily, 3:40 I'M. 7:10 . for Wiltias , Butalo and ‘Magara Falls daily, except Saturday, with ing, Cor Washingvow tu Suspension Bridge Nftalo, 10:40 P.M. for Erie, Canandaigaa, Rochester, But- falo and Ninzara Falls daily, Sleeping Car Wasb- ington to Elmira. ‘or Philadclplia. Sew York and. the East. |. “CONGRESSIONAL LIMITED.” daily, sith Dining Cae. from Baltimore: 265 (Dining Carl, 7:20, 94”, 10:00 Car), and 11:00 (Dining Csr from Wil. Sunday 7:05 (Dining ‘Oar. 7/30, ng sae ‘from ‘iwingt 12: 215, 10:00 and 11:85 P. For Philadephia onl = k Express, past 7:50 A as 1S week daba, 2:01 and 40 PM. dally. For Boston, wnbout change, 7-50 A.M. week dasa, and 3-°5 P.M. daily. r Ral 6:25. 7:05. 10:00, ‘and 11:50 A. ). 4:00 Limited), 7.10, 9:00, 12:48, 2:01, 5:40, 6:05, 1g 1215, 4:20, 4:38, 00. 10:40," 11:15 7:20, ‘9:00. 7:20, 9:00 A.M.. 12:15 and 4:20 ‘except Sunday. Sundays, ¥:00 A.M. Atinntic Coast ‘Line. Rxprees for Tichmond, Jack sonville and Tampa, 4:30 A.M., 8:46 P.M. daily. Rickmerd ani Atlanta, PM. daily. ttee nond oni, 10:57 A.M. ‘week omnuxtation for Quontico, MI. dally, and 35 PAL week dase, = J. 6:35, T:48, 8:40, 1:45. 10-87, 20, 5:00, 5-3 25, ‘ Somlay at and 10:10 Alexandria for Washington, 6:05, €:42, 7:08, . 9:10, 10: 1:00, 2 aS, 10:58 AM ‘On Runday at |. 7:00. 7-90. 9 4 . corner 15th and G streets t the station Gth and B streets, where orders can be left for the checking of baggage to destination from botela and residences. S$ M. PREVOsT, J. R. Woop, oe Manager. General Passenger Agent. -PUTOMAC RIVER BOATS. THE WE STEAMBOAT COMPAN FALL SCHEDULE. Steamer Potemoe wil leave Stephenson's wharf, foot 7th t. and steamer | Sae every “Mond ai 9 p.m. for Accommodations landings re- nd ecived or and Saturday must be prepair OMce, 910 Pa WASHINGTON 5 8 LANDINGS, FOR POT From 7th st. Ferry Wharf. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays at 7 Mondays for river landings to St. Clement's $ Bay and returning, for river returning, ay afternoon for river landings, arriv ening. Satuedays for river landin and St. Clement's Bay; In effect Nov. 4, RIDLEY, Gen “sfun. to Nomini Crer agrives Sunday afternooi See scheduce. cw. . «S. RANDALL POTOMAC RIVER LINE— amer Harry Randall leaves River View Whai wesduy and Thursday, at es as far down as Made ipel Point and Col turning on Mondays, Wednesdays | a J pm Pusseuser accomuedations firat- scight received Until hour of suliiag. Tele hone 171 PAL iE & CO., KE. 8. RANDALL, ‘Agents, Alexandria. Proprietor and Manages. GEO, 0. CARPINTER, Gen. Agt. Washington, fy1l-tr