Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 10, 1901, Page 6

| A Fatal. liharriage. CHAPTER. V. (Continued.) The captain of the nearest station, ac- ompanied by two of his staff, and a elebrated detective in plain clothes, taad returned with Mr. Morley, and they were immediately followed by Mr. Baldwin, the lawyer, who had also ar- rived with the Swiss valet. Carl preceded the party, and led them toward the dressing room of his late master, and even Mrs. Martin for- ot to place any restraint upon the rest of the servants; every man and woman resent eagerly pressed on toward the oom of the dead. CHAPTER VI. The Jeweled Stiletto. ‘The captain of police was first to lace his hand upon the door knob. “Who has the key?” he inquired. Without a word of answer, Mrs. Mar- in placed it in his hand. He opened the door and entered, followed b the ‘two police officers, the detective and Mr. Baldwin, who were in turn followed by all who could force their way into the room. The mother and father of Clarice, whose first intention had been to seek their daughter, had been borne along with the crowd, and now stood gazing | on the dead face of him who had, by the law of God and man, been made their son—their daughter's husband— @carcely more than two short hours ego. Mrs. Mowbray gave a groan of abso- fute suffering; her face became utterly colorless, and she seemed in danger of fainting. Brian Mowbray turned sick at the sight, and was glad to occupy himself in the care of his wife. He drew her backward out of sight, and would have carried her from the room if the doorway had not been locked up by a throng of people close- ly wedged together there. As it was, ‘ne kept her from another glimpse of the dead man, and was equally careful him- elf not to look in that direction. Mrs. Martin had again entered the ffoom; but she withdrew to the window, | ‘where she stood concealed by the heavy velvet curtain, gazing out on the rear of the houses in the next block. Carl, the Swiss valet, was profoundly effected. He gazed with streaming eyes on the dead face, till, unable to bear it, he buried his face in both hands, sob- bing and weeping. “The kindest master—the master!” he sobbed. ‘find another?” Mr. Baldwin had immediately pro- -eeeded to the duty for which he had been summoned and, having sealed all -guch private papers, ‘drawers, escri- toires, etc., as he deemed of import- “ance, he, too, came forward to look at the still, white face of Philip Grayson. It was the face of a man who had been @ kind friend to him, and the lawyer had valued the friend. He heaved a deep sigh and turned @way. It was a sight that no man kindest would like to dwell upon, and, hard | man of business though he was, Mr. Baldwin shuddered, and there was a guspicious, dewy moisture in his keen, @ray eyes. = But here was one person in that room whom no one seemed to notice particu- Marly, though, to an observant eye she ‘was, of all there, the most profoundly affected by the tragedy that had been enacted in that room. This was Mrs, Grayson’s new waiting maid—the “¥rench girl, Leonce. She was a remarkable-looking girl— “tall, slender, and eminently graceful and ladylike in appearance. In com- plexion she was a clear, pale brunette, with eyes and hair of midnight dark- mess, delicate, ull, red mouth, exquisitely-fine teeth, as white and even as a row of pearls, and the kind of hands and feet that are eonsidered a proof of good birth in Eu- “tope. Naturally pale, as brunettes of her “type always are, she was now of a livid pallor, and even her red mouth was pale and ashen, and her lips thin and com- ‘pressed, as if she feared some sound of terror or grief might force its way be- tween them. Her dark eyes gleamed and glittered’ ‘ike light on polished steel, and her gaze ever for a moment dwelt on the mur- dered man, but roved wildly over the apartment, with a curious intentness that evidently took a mental inventory ef everything in it, and seemed to seek 4or something it did not find, yet feared to find, or feared still more, that some ether eyes than her own might fina rst. But, apparently, no one noticed her particularly, and her extreme pallor, the terror and agitation so evidently held ‘ander strong control, might easily have passed for nothing more than signs of matural emotion under the circum~- a@tances, even if she had been specially ebserved. The captain of police knelt down be aide the body and looked critically at the face; then, raising the right arm, fet it fall with a dull, heavy thud. “I suppose the body has been exam- fmed by a doctor?” he said, inquiringly. Dr. Sprague at once stepped forward. “TI was for some years physician to the deceased. I have examined the body. Death was caused by a wound fm the throat, made by some sharp and pointed instrument—as I should judge, @omething in the nature of a small dag- @er or poniard. Death must have been almost instantaneous, as you will ob- werve the carotid artery has been com- pletely severed. Under suck circum~- stances a man will die within three aminutes—possibly, sooner. It is the artery that leads directly from the heart to the brain.” “Then you consider the case tv be one of murder, not suicide?” the captain of police inquired. woe “Not suicide—certainly not. No man ould deal himself such a blow as that. Let me prove it to you.” He gently raised the head and pointed to the back “Ah, when will I | clearly-cut features, a: { | | | | | i ' i | shudder that shook her like a chill. | my master married.” |and whispering among themselves at wep WRITTEN BY ELIZABETH CAMPBELL. Lane but the force of the blow drove it com- pletely through the throat, sending the point out at the back of the neck. Such a blow could only be dealt by a second person, and must have come from & very strong hand, aided, probably by an impetuous rush on the part of the murderer. The victim, as you may judge from the position of the body, was probably knocked down by the force of the blow; evidently he fell backward and died without a struggle. As you see, the arms are stretched out, and the limbs are not even drawn up in the agony of death.” “Then the first thing will be to ascer- tain the probable motive for the mur- der. If it was robbery, the murderer would surely have rifled the body, and that is not the case, apparently, for here is a valuable diamond ring on the left hand.” Mr. Hantlin, the detective, now spoke for the first time: “The murderer might not have had time to remove the ring, as, you may see, it fits closely; or he may not have noticed it. Look further.” The voice of the young man was pecu- liar and striking. Once heard, it would not easily be forgotten. It was calm, low and very clear, perhaps even cold; but to an ear sensitive to fine vibra- tions in sound there was an undertone of warmth that indicated possibilities of deep feeling and enthusiasm. William Hantlin was an enthusiast in his profession, and when a “case” was given to him, he entered on it with ail his heart as well as his head. The brief remark that now fell from his lips attracted the attention of all who heard it, and many eyes were di- rected toward him—those of Leonce with a swift gaze that seemed to pierce him, but might as well have been spent on a marble statue. The girl swiftly looked away with a sudden gasp for breath and a quick The police captain nodded acquies- cence to the detective’s words, and said: “Yes, we will look further; but first, young man,” turning to Carl, “you were the gentleman’s valet, I suppose? Per- haps you can help us by stating what articles of value Mr. Grayson had on his person when you waited on him this morning-” “My master always carried a valuable gold watch. It was a present from a friend, and he .would as soon have thought of going out without his hat as without his watch. I placed it in his fob this morning myself. To the chain was attached a magnificent locket stud- ded with diamonds containing the pic~ ture of Miss Mowbray—the lady whom The police captain immediately looked for the articles mentioned in the pocket indicated by Carl. “Watch and locket are gone,” he said, w, What else, young man?” My master always wore one large diamond solitaire stud in his shirt front—” “Ha! that’s gone, too; front is torn badly!” This all could see for themselves, though the ghastly blood-stains had prevented it from being observed until attention was drawn to it. A group of those surrounding the body now crowded around, exclaiming and the shirt these new developments in the case. But the captain of police immediately requested all to fall back, and directed his assistants to clear the room of every one save the relatives of the deceased and the two friends—Dr. Sprague and Mr. Baldwin. While this was being done, he ad- dressed a last question to Carl: “Now, young man, one word more-- had your master any other article of value on his person?” “When Mr. Grayson had completed his toilet, and just as he was about to leave the room this morning, I saw him put a wallet containing money and pa- pers, into the inside breast pocket of his coat. I took particular notice of the circumstance, sir, because it was the wedding coat, and I feared it would spoil the set of it. I said so to my mas- ter, but he only laughed and said he guessed he could stand it.” Police Captain Monroe slipped his hand into the breast pocket of the dead man’s coat and withdrew it empty. “The wallet is no longer there,” he said. “Of course the gentleman may have removed it, and also the watch. If so, we may find them in his apart- ments somewhere. The diamond stud has evidently been torn forcibly from its place. Therefore,” he concluded, rising to his feet and looking around upon his hearers, “of one thing there seems to be little doubt—robbery was the motive of the crime. Other valua- ples are probably missing. The murder may have been an accident, compara- tively speaking. The thief may have been interrupted in bis work, and he may have killed Mr. Grayson so as to escape. We will now look about for some clue to the murderer; he may not yet have escaped from the house—” ka | During these proceedings Mrs. Martin had come forward again, and she now“ interrupted the officer a moment to tel him of the unguarded condition of the halls and entrance when she arrived. Capt. Monroe listened with respect and attention. “Thank you, madam,” he said, when she had concluded. “That throws some light on the -subject. Judging from what you say, some tramp may have entered the house, robbed it, committea the murder and escaped unseen.” “Pardon me, sir! That would hardly be possible. To do that he must needs have taken the chance of being discov- ered before he had even reached the stairs, and gganting tbat, in his alarm and confusion, he had taken that des- perate chance, being a stranger, he could only have escaped by the front door, which would have been impossi- ble without discovery, for a crowd of people were standing outside waiting for a glimpse of the bride and bride- wof the neck. ‘You will obserye, sir, that | gioom on their return trom church.” she weapon not only severed tae artery, “Sure enough, madam, Thank you for pointing that out! You're mighty quick, lady. The mystery only deepens, then. Is there,” turning again to Carl, “any other way of leaving this room ex: cept by-the door we came in? “Oh, yes, sir; there’s a private exit! I will show you!” Stepping quickly across the room, he drew aside the folds of a heavy curtain of dark gold brocade. This door opened on a hall. dimly lighted by a skylight window of stained glass. The hall was about sixteen feet in length, and at its extremity was an- other door, “What a singular arrangement!” De- tective Hantlin murmured to himself, in a musing tone, as he followed the officer and Carl into this dim hall way. “Well, it is, rather,” returned Capt. Monroe. “But there’s no accounting for the freaks of these rich men, I sup- pose, now, he had some special reason— your master had—in having this queer way of leaving his dressing room?” “He had, sir.. He had two reasons,” Carl returned, eagerly, for he seemed to think that the police captain’s words threw some kind of a disagreeable re- flection on his poor master’s eccentrici- ties—if one chose to think them so. ‘In the first place, this passage way leads on one side to Mr. Grayson’s bath room, which he chose to have at a consider- able distance from his dressing room, because he rad a nervous horrir of the dripping of water, that sometimes takes place from the pipes, however carefur because he had a nervous horror of the other side of the hall, outside of that door, is a stairway that leads to the kitchen. Mr. Grayson was the most particular gentleman I ever served about his food. He suffered at times from acute dyspepsia, and he was so {sensitive about it that I was, besides his physician, Dr. Sprague, about the only ‘person in the world who knew it .I’m a skilled cook, gentlemen. I learned it in Paris, where I served a marquis, and often, after all the household has re- tired for the night, I used to cook a dainty little supper for my master, and pring it to him, unknown to anyone by this private entrance to his dressing room. . It was as much as my place was worth to be discovered—to be met going or coming—and I beg to assure you, gentlemen, that I would not now reveal my poor master’s little weakness, only that it seems necessary to explain the existence of this passage way.” “Just so—just so!” returned Capt. Monroe. ‘Then it would have been pos- sible for the murderer to have made his escape by this passage?” “Just barely possible, sir—that is to say, he might stumble on a means of escape by rushing through here, discov- ering the staircase that leads to the kitchen, and so find his way out into the back yard—but not without being seen, sir. Why, all the servants were down stairs. I was myself among them, for I was expecting to hear my mas- ter’s bell. The wedding party were to have started on their wedding journey immediately after breakfast, and I knew that Mr. Grayson might ring for me at any moment. No, sir; I don’t see how any one could have escaped that way.” “Let us take another look, anyhow. Supposing the murderer to have reached that door and to have found his way into the hall beyond, he might have concealed himself—he may yet be in the house. It seems impossible that he can have left it.” “The monster—the wretch!” cried Carl, with concentrated fury. “Oh, that I could find him! But I'd make short work of him. This way, sir.” He hurried on ahead of the police cap- tain, who, however, made good haste after him. Hantlin, the detective, followed more slowly, his gaze wandering about the dimly-lighted hallway, and then mus- ingly turned toward the skylight of stained glass above him, as if intent on observing its various hues, and compar- ing them with the colored reflections on the floor. Presently his toe grazed something on the door. He skillfully avoided step- ping on it, stooped, picked it up, and, with a light throb of excitement, drop- ped it into his pocket. At that moment the valet and the captain of police reached the hall door, and Carl, seizing the door knob, hur- riedly turned it, and would have torn open the door, but it resisted, He pulled and shook it. In his excitement he did not seem to understand why it would not open. “Stop, stop!” c1ied Capt. Monroe. “Don’t you see the door is locked, and the key is on the inside? No one has escaped this way.” Carl dropped his hand from the door, and, for a moment or two, stood gazing stupidly at it. “That is so, sir, as you say,” he then answered. “No one has escaped by that door.” “What do you say, Hantlin?” asked the captain of police, addressing the des tective, who had now aproached them, “Well, I say it looks that way,” re- turned the detective. ‘Now, let's re- turn to the room and make a few in- quiries.” “Have you found anything, gentle- men?—anything calculated to throw light on this awful crime?” Mrs. Martin exclaimed, coming eagerly forward, as the three men returned to the room. “I have found something,” Hantlin returned, His gaze seemed to take in every one in the room as he spoke. “I know not of what importance it may be yet, but I think I have found the weap- on with which the deed was committed. There it is!!" His hand had gone to his pocket while he spoke, and, as he uttered the last words, he held up a curious weap- on to have found such a use, and yet & very deadly one. It was a long, slender stiletto, the handle of which was thickly studded with many flashing jewels, and the blade of which was red with the life- blood of Philip Grayson. Mrs. Martin recoiled, speechless with terror; bul Mrs. Mowbray uttered & piercing shriek. “The dagger! the dagger! ice, my child, my child!’ Alarmed at her piercing shriek, “The dagger, the dagger! Oh, Clarice, my child, my child!” with a look of threat- ened fierceness, Brian Mowbray glared upon his wife. “Fool, idiot!” he hissed in her ear; “do you want to hang y~ar daughter?” ‘The next moment he wcepped in front of her, and was hurriedly apologizing for her outbreak. + “You must, excuse Mrs, Mowbray. She is an invalid, has been for years, and this awful affair has been too much for her nerves. I will take her away. She will be better at home.” “I won't go hom Mrs, Mowbray Oh, Clar- cried out in a loud voice. She had nev- er feared her husband much, for she had been treated generaly as a spoiled and petted child; but now his sudden effort at exercising authority annoyed, more than,it intimidated her ;and, with the unexpected strength of the weak, she was now so terrified for Clarice that she was ready to fight anyone who would have sought to keep her from the child whom she loved with all the heart she possessed, “I won't go home—I won't, I won’t, I won't!” she repeated. “Let me go to Clarice! I must and will see her!” Mr. Hantlin, the detective, was now the one who succeeded in quieting Mrs. Mowbray’s secoad outbreak of excite- ment. : Without seeming to have noticed her frenzied outburst at sight of the stilet- to, no word or look of her terrified countenance had escaped him. On first entering the house, he had been in time to hear a part of what Mrs. Martin had just then said, and his quick mind at once connected those words and Mrs. Mowbray’s terror on \beholding the bloody weapon, Of course, the stiletto was in some way connected with Mrs. Grayson. It was necessary that he should find out in what way. “My dear madam,” he said, in a quiet, calm, cool tone, that generally held at- tention, “you shall not be kept from your daughter—on the contrary, you shall see her, and at once. I am led to think that Mrs. Grayson has not been told of her husband’s death. It will vv impossible for very long to keep it a secret. Might I suggest that it woula be as well to acquaint her at once with these painful circumstances? She may be able to tell us much that would be of great assistance.” “My poor child can tell you nothing— nothing at all. I am sure of that,” Mrs, Mowbray . exclaimed, wildly. “How should she? What can she know? Oh, dear, dear! Only let me go to her, and you may all come, and see for your- selves how innocent she is. Let me go to her—let me go!” Brian Mowbray smothered a groan of despair. He felt that every word thar fell from his wife’s lips was only tend- ing more surely to turn suspicion to- ward their unfortunate daughter. But it was worse than useless now to attempt to silence Mrs. Mowbray. “Where is Mrs. Grayson?” asked the detective. But Mrs. Mowbray only wrung her hands and shook her head hopelessly. “No one has seen Mrs. Grayson since the discovery of my poor brother’s death,” Mrs. Martin answered, pathet~ ically. “But from her maid I iearned, when I first came, that she was locked in her own room. I judge she is there. still. There is every reason to suppose that some very angry words passed be- tween the husband and ,wife on their first arrival. But it is, perhaps, better not to refer to that now. No doubt Mrs. Grayson can tell ‘us much that may be of value in pursuing this in- vestigation.” “If she can she will, madam; be sure of that!” Mrs. Mowbray burst out, turning with fury on her enemy. Then, addressing Detcctive Hantlin, she added, more gfaciously: “TI am almost a stranger in the house, sir, or I would offer to lead you at once to my daughter; but I do not know, my- self, where to find her.” , Mrs. Martin, politely ignoring this speech, turned to the police officer. “If you will kindly unlock the door, sir, I will send a message to Mrs. Gray- son by her maid, who is, no doubt, still outside in the hall with the rest of the servants.” Capt. Monroe answered by unlocking and then throwing open the door. Leonce was, indeed, still outside the door, though the rest of the servants, having suddenly remembered that they were hungry, and that a magnificent breakfast was going to waste down stairs, had disappeared. The girl was, if possible, more pale than befcre, but the expression of her face was changed. There was a look upon it that betokened relief from the despairing terror that had been there, although held under strong control. Her eyes had not the steel-like glitter thar had shone in them when she was in the room, but as soon as the door was opened she glanced quickly into the room, and then at the police officer ana lastly at the detective. She had been standing very close to the door, and had, indeed, been trying to hear what passed within, but with very little success. The door was of heavy, thick oak, too well made to leave a hair’s breadth of room for sight or sound when fast closed; the key was in the lock, too, and the police officer had, without knowing it, taken up his position in- side, so that he stood against the door, effectually blocking up the only loop- hole by which she could have heara distinctly. Mrs. Martin was the first person to speak. “You will go to your mistress, Mrs, Grayson, and tell her that circum- stances of.a very serious nature re- quire her attention, but on no account mention what has happened.” The French maid bowed, and with~ drew to carry her message. Mrs. Mar- tin followed her a few steps into the hall, glad to, get out of that awful room. Mrs. Mowbray, closely accompanied by her busband, also came out into the hall, and they were, in turn, followed by the lawyer, Mr. Baldwin, Police Cap- tain Monroe and Detective Hantlin. It was evident to the lawyer that the detective suspected Mrs. Grayson, and was determined to get into her presence by any means possible, and, for the sake of his old friend, Mr. Baldwin de- termined to protect the young bride. All waited anxiously for the return of Leonee, and she did not try their pa- tience. In a few moments she came pack to say that she could get no an- swer, though she had knocked repeat- edly at the door of Mrs. Grayson’s bou- doir. “Then she fs not there; she may not be in the house!" Mrs. Martin ex- claimed. “Madam 1s in her boudoir,’ 'the maid replied. “I am sure of it, because she was walking up and down. I could hear the rustle of her gown.” Mrs. Mowbray cast a triumphant look on Mrs. Martin, then addressed |, Leonce: “My daughter shall answer me!” she said. “Show me to her room. You may follow me, gentlemen, if it Is necessa~ ry,” she added, in an almost defiant tone, utterly ignoring Mrs. Martin. “Certainly, madam,” the French maid answerefl, as she again directed her steps to Mra, Grayson’s boudoir. | i + } . (Ke Be Continued.) “Dasky,” a Brilliant Canary. All any member of the family has to do in order to become a resting place for the dear little winged creature is to say: “Tweet, tweet; Dusky come to me.” Down comes the tiny fellow from mirror, mantle piece, back of chair, or anywhere he happens to be on, and makes straight for the top of the head of the person who ealled him. If the head moves too much, its feathery oc- cupant hops to the shoulders, It is very amusing to watch him as he inquisitively peers up into the per- son’s face. Every few seconds he gent- ly peeks at the corner of the mouth of any one on whose shoulder he has alighted. But the most wonderful thing of all is that if he is told to sing he will at once start to do so. The request must ‘be accompanied by a sound resem- bling the word ‘rush” or “awish,” or anything with “sh” in it. Dusky at times ceases his explorations. around the room, settles himself to his music, and sends forth the most beautiful song, seemingly in perfect rapture. Last summer it was taken to the country. Two large cats were resi- dents of the farm house. One day, when nobody was watching, these cats, in trying to get at the bird, with a great clatter, upset its home. Mever a note uttered Dusky until the eage was set upright again, when it commenced to sing with all its might, whether in defiance to the cats or in thanks to those who rescued him, I, of course, cannot say.—Osprey. BITS OF NEWS GATHERED AT "ST. PAUL. (Special Correspondence.) The dairymen of the state will lose $300,000 this summer by mot caring for their dairy cows, says Samuel Haug- dahl, dairy expert for the state dairy and food department. In the summer when the pastures are low and the farmers are busy gathering erops they make little effort to see that their cows are properly fed and cared for. The miJk production in the state is cut nearly in half during the summer. The flies, the mosquitoes and the heat eause a loss which with careful feeding might be materially lessened. As an illustration, Mr. Hawgdahl cited the case of a careful dairyman who, by feeding and prorer care, have made their cows bring nearly double the average earning. The average cow will bring $25, while there have been produced $40 worth of milk. Mr. Haugdahl finds one serious flaw im the attention given to the exclusive raising of wheat. Whenever the wheat crop is cmall the farmers fall back upon the dairy cow to make both ends meet, but the next year they get back into the old rut of wheat raising. As a remedy for the condition whictr plays havoe with the milk output Mr. Haugdahl is advocating the erection of silos, in which cut or shredded corn- stalks can be kept green all winter, and in the summer, when the pastures: are low, the cows are fed from them: This, he says, would in a great measure prevent the great falling off in milk and its products. Where Large Profits Are Made. Jokes about dressmakers’ bills have been threshed out by the comic jour- nals time out of mind; but a recent re- port of profits made in the English pa- pers by a well known Paris establish- ment, one though by no means among the most famous, would seem, in its Alnascher proportions,. to justify them all. To be sure, it isa report to share- holders, and its publication is in the nature of an advertisement; but the figures given are astonishing. The concern started modestly in Paris ten years ago, and the profits of the first year were $3,160; they jumped in the following four years. to the following figures: $19,000: $63,000; $164,000, $234,- 000. It was then thought best to turn the establishment into a stock compa- ny, with limited liability,, capitalized at $2,200,000. The profits. of the company for the last four years: were $264,000, $296,000, $327,000 and $413,000;. that is to say $1,300,000 net profits, or more than half of the nominal capital in four years. One cause, for the amount of business, is, perhaps; the practice of giving credit to customers, the books showing ‘an indebtedness to the com- pany of’ $878,000. There is no doubt that the business is profitable, and the pills proportionately high.—New York Sun. Meeker county walked off with the first amd second prizes in the August butter contest under the supervision of the state dairy department. John Friedner of Strout won the first prize with a score of 97; W. Lund of Forest City took second prize, score 96.5. The third prize was taken by H. J. Rosen+ eau of Meriden, Steele county, with a score of 96.3. There were 104 tubs submitted at the contest this month against 81 last month, and the highest score was half apoint higher than that of the prévious scoring. The butter was sold on the local market at 19.5 cents, which is 1 cent lower than New York. Mr. Mc- Connell pronounces the butter exhibit one of the best that has been held. Red Lake county won the first prize in the eheese contest. This is the first time that the county has appeared ir any of the exhibits. The southern part of the state, which has hitherto been the stronghold of the cheese industry, was crowded into second place. The first prize was taken by H. Clement of Terrebone, with a score of 96.5; the second prize went to A. W. Parkins of Station, Goodhue county, score of 96. A Long Game. When I arrived at Black Rock I in- quired of the landlord of the village tavern for,a man named Wharton, who had some land to sell. “Do you mean old Bill Wharton?” was queried im reply. The board of managers of the state fair has completed the program for the opening day, Sept. 2, which has been designated Roosevelt day, in honor of “Yes,” “Got land down on Bass river?” the vice president, who will be the “Yes.” fair’s guest. His address will be made at 11 o’elock, a reception will be given at the Jobbers” union building from 12 to 2 o’clock and the following hour will be devoted to luncheon. The vice presi- dent will be escorted about the grounds to look over the exhibits from 2 until 4 o'clock, and he will then review the First regiment of the Minnesota na- tional guard. An effort is being made to have the two batteries of artillery present to fire salutes. |. There is likely to be a considerable advance this year in the price for stands and amusement tents. The agricultural society, in view of the splendid prospects for record-breaking attendance, has advanced the mini- mum price. The new agricultural: puilding will create some desirable stands in the vicinity of that structure, which promises to be one of the chief’ attractions of the fair. Set Minnesota. is included in the next group of states which will form a spe- cial bulletin from the census office. The: ‘classification as between males and’ females, native and foreign born, white: and colored, will be given; aiso the Indian and colored population, it is an- ticipated, although the figures are not propose to go to it as members of the:| available, that the North Star State house of lords, and have their trains | will! show marked gains in the foreign borne by pages, as the peers do. It |born population over the last census. seems to be an exceedingly proper pur- | It is intimated that the Indian popula~ pose, and ought toa be applauded, not | tion of the state keeps pretty well up, by womem suffragists alone, but by |and it may exceed the total of 1885. everyone who likes a noble show fitly | The Indian population of the state has ornamented.—Harper’s Weekty. imereased steadily. In 1860 there was an incomplete enumeration made; Im 1870 the Indians who were taxed by ti». government were 7,000; in 1880 over 10}- 000. There are between 8,000 and’9,000" untaxed Indians in Minnesota. ee Executive Agent Fullerton of the state game and fish commission re- leently received a letter from E. W. | Davis of Detroit, Minn., asking for a payment of a judgement against the I state of $100 and costs amounting to about $S1. The suit was brought under the previous administration and grew out of seizures in the northern part of the state. Mr. Davis, says Agent Fullerton, has been at sword's: points: with the commission for years. Agent Fullerton submitted the letter to the attorney general, who informe@ him that the state could not be sue? and that the judgement was: void. Mr, Fullerton so informed ‘Mr, Davis and suggested that if no other relief could be secured he might levy on the persor of the governor, the attorney generat and the auditor and sell them at public. auction at the court house in Detroit. “Well, I know him He lives about three miles out of town.” “Can I get a horse to take me out there?” “Yes; but it won't do you any good?” “Ts he seriously ill?” “Not that I know of, but he wouldn’t see the president of the United States before next Wednesday. If you can wait eight or ten days you can get to talk about that land of his.” “Then Mr. Wharton has got some special business on hand for a week?” I asked. “You can gamble that he has, strang- er. Yes, sir, it’s special business, and no mistake. At noon to-day he and old Pete Davis sat down to a game of checkers for the championship of this county.—’—Philadelphia Press. Peereses in the House of Lords. England is interested in the preten- sions of certain English women, who are peeresses in their own right and believe they: can sit in the house of lords if. they choose and help govern the empire. It is centuries since & peeress has done it, but there is to bea fancy-dress: coronation in Londom next year, and London gossip says that cer- tain of these self-regulating peeresses Humoring Her Delusions. The little girl in the merry-gorreun® egan to get seasick. e Clarence," she said to: the little boy in the seat opposite to her, “I feel baa. I believe I’ve: got wind on my stom- ach.” } Now Clarence had been brought up to the age of six years it the doctrine that there is no such thing as pain. So he said, with a fatherly ‘sort ot smile: “Well, Grace, we'll trade places, and then the wind will not be on your stom acr. It will be om your bac! ’*—Chica- go Tribune. The Everlasting Enemy. “] never saw anything quite so mor~ tifying,”’ severely commented Mr. Fer- guson, after they had left the church door and started homeward, “as that performance of yours in applauding the preacher. He wasn’t saying a wore at the time, either. He was merely Yooking at his waten. Didn't you see how. everybody stared at you in a hor rifled way when you clapped your hands?” ; “{ wasn’t applauding the preacher, George,” replied Mrs. ‘Ferguson, ready to cry. “I was trying to kill a moth.” —Chicago Tribune, Not Needed. He was obviously /anxious, and she seemed almost willing. “J shall refer you to papa,” said she, with a becoming blush, “before giving you my final answer.” BAS “But I am perfectly willing to take you without any reference,” said he, masnanimously. lanapolia News, ~ BOER COMMANDANT SHOP. Killed After an Exciting Chase, ana Important Papers Secured. Bloemfontein, Aug. 7.—Commandant Froneman, son of the Commandant Froneman, who, #t is alleged, shot a peace envoy named Morgendal, has peen killed near Windburg after an ex- citimg chase. Most important papers were found in his pockets. The British have captured a Boer convoy of seven- ty wagons neat Boshot, Orange River Colony. 5 NS