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Lfebs,'7l 1) A. 011 BISON, Attorney-at-Law. Patents Obtained. IL. Office, 321 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [my3l,'7l E. FL'ini ENG, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., oftlee i 3/man? . bffildimr,, Penn Street. Prompt and careful ;Attention given to all legal business. augs,'74-6mos AVILLIANI A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting don, Pa. Special attention given to collections, no.; all other legal business attended to with care a:ol rt,,:opttiess. 01lice, No. 22:1, Penn Street. {apl9,ll Sc%ool and Miscellaneous Books GOOD BOOKS FOR THE FARM GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. The following is a list of Valuable Books, which will bo from the Office of the Huntingdon JOURNAL. Any one or more of these books will he sent post-paid io any of our readers on receipt of the regals.i price, which is named against each book. A I leu's ;It. L. 4; L. F.) New American Farm 800 k... $2 50 . '"-• A I ka's cL. F.) AmeriClth Cattle.. Allen's (ILL.) American Farm Book (L. F.) Rural Architecture Allen's (1:. L.) Diseases of Domestic Animals... American Bird Fancier _ _ _ American Gen tleinan'ti Stable ti nide.. American Ruse Uniturist. American WeAs mid Useful Plants 1 75 Atwood's Country and Suburban Houses. ........ At womn- Modern Amerkan floinesteads*3 50 ••• Ilaker's Pra,tkal and Scientific Fruit Cu1ture........ 2 511 lkrbsr's Crack Shot. 1 75 Barry's Fruit GAP 6311 Deli; Carpew; y :Ft3de Eats}' * B vnent's Rabbit Fancier air inell . ,l Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vole 12 0 , 1 Ickilelre Supplement to Village Balkier* 0 otl Ito.t.rdn , ,' Field Cover, and Trap Shooting* 2 00 lloiniuer'a Meth. - al of Making Manures 241 F.m.-wingault's Rural Economy ..... ...- 1 tiO EracketC3 Farm Talk=. paper, t. °els.; c10th.... 75 rreek:e Sow Book of Flowers 1 75 Beill'e Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growing 1 00 Broom-torn and Broom? paper, Glide. ; cloth 75 . . llrown's Tax , derruist's Manual* 1 00 Bruck-..er's American Manures. . 1 50 Buchanan's Culture of the Grapeand Wine making* 75 Buel's Cider-Malter's.Matival* Buhr's Flower-Garden Directory 1 50 Deist's Firmiiy Kitchen Gardener 1 00 Burges' Aniorican Kennel and sporting Field* 4 0o Turultarn's The China Fowl* 1 00 Burn's Architectural Drawing Book* . .. 100 Burns' 11Iustnttecl Drawing Book. 1 00 Burns' Ornamental Drawi ug Du rr's Vegetables of America* 3 00 Caldwell's Agricultural Chemical Analysis 2 00 Canary Mids. Paper 50 ctu Cloth 75 Chorlton's Grape-Grower's Guide 75 Cleveland', Landscape Achitecture Clok's Disea , e, of Sheep* Cobbett's A nwrican Gardener Cole's American Fruit Book Cole's American Veterinarian 75 Cooked and Cooking Food for Domestic Animalo... 20 Cooper's Game Fowls* 5 00 Corhett's Poultry Yard and Market*pa.socts., cloth 75 Croft's Progressive American Architecture*.........._ 10 00 Cunaming,,4' Architectural Details lO 00 Cummings Hiller's Architecture* lO 00 Cunper's ' Universal Stair-Builder 3 50 Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo Dada's American Cattle Doctor, 12 'no 1 50 Da.l , rs American Cattle Doctor, Svo, cloth* 2 541 Dadd's Anioi ican Reformed Horse Book,B co, cloth* 2 50 Dada - N Muck Manual 1 25 D • rwin's Variations of Animals & Plants. 2 cols* [new ed.] Dead Shot; or, Sportsman's Complete Guide* Detail Cottage and Constructive Architecture* De Voe's Market Aesistant* Dinks, Mayhew, and Hutchison, on the Dog* Downing. Land.cape Gardening Dwyer's noise ......................... Eastwood on Cranberry E,gleston's Circuit Hider* Eggleston's Ead of the World 1 50 Eggleston's Hoosier School-Master 1 25 E..;gleston's Mystery of Metropolisyille 1 50 E4gleston's ((;eo. C.) A Man of Honor 1 25 Ell iol es 11, lid Book for Fruit Growers* nc, 60e. •, clo 1 no Elliott'sHand-Book of Practical Landscape Gar- _ Ellictt's Lawn and Shade Trees*. E liott's Western Fruit-Grower's Guide Eyelet lig School House Architecture* t3 00 EVery nurse Owner's Cyclopsedia*. Field's Peat Culture Fiax Culture. [Seven Prize Essays by practical grow ers ...... . ..... Flit (Charles L.) on Grasses* Flint's Mitch Cows and Dairy Farming* Prank Forester's American Game in its Season* Frank Forester's Field Sports, 8 vo ' 2 vole* Frank Forester's Fish and Fishing, 100 Engs* Frank Forester's Horse of America, 8 vo., 2 vols.— Frank Forester's Manual for YouogSportsmon, 8 so French's Farm Drainage Fuller's Forest-Tree Culturist . fuller's Grape Guitarist Fuller's Illustrated St rawbarry Guitarist 2O Culturist 1 5 Fulton 's Peace Culture 1 50 Glird.ner's Carriage Painters' Manual * 1 00 Garliier's how to Paint* Gerelin's Poultry-Breading Gould', American Stair-Buildtr's* 4 00 Gummi ler's and Builder's Assistant ...... 3 00 G;egory on Cabbages paper.. ZO Gregory on Onion . paper.. 30 (:,,gory on Sq....beg paper.. 30 Cocoon on Mitch Cows 5-5 Guillaume's Interior Architecture' (:nn, Rai, and Sa•3dle* 11,11ett:s iinfkleg' Specifications*. :Inllett's Builders' Giutracts* IO 'La nevi's Earns, Ont-Bu Wings, and Fences*.......—. 6 00 Harris's In...ets Injurious to Vegetation—Plaiu $4; Colored Engravings 6 50 Parris on the l'ig 1 10 Hedges' on Sorgho or the Northern Sugar Plant* relnisley's !lardy Trees, Shrubs, and Plante..... !,lidorFon'A Gardening for Pleasure. ..... . I;endereon CArdening tor Profit THE JOURNAL STORE Is the place to buy all kinds of 9100111 AT HARD PAN PRICESI J. R. DURBORROW, - - - J. A. NASH. The Huntingdon Journal, J. A. 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Give us an order. muggg .... 500 .... 1 75 10 00 2 50 ... 300 850 2 00 JOB DEPARTMENT EI Fl ....... 1 50 ...... 1 50 1 50 "R! tzr k<l 2 50 254) 3 00 6 00 3 50 10 00 3 00 1 50 1 50 1 50 1 00 1 50 7 50 150 1 50 -COLD. sir All business letters should be ad dressed to J. R. DURBORROW & CO., Huntingdon, Pa. r rhe " untingdon 'Journal. Printing PUBLISHED -IN TERMS : 0 0 0 0 o 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 FIRST-CLASS 5000 READERS WEEKLY. It finds its way into 1800 .;•i R 1 /t 0 - o 0 a; so c. ~.. ~~ 0 oc • 1 I al I (1) 1 'V et. 0 OQ E :CLA.L' A Si'. PRI Cly A NIGHT OF HORROR. I have passed through many a trying scene in my life, scenes wherein danger lurked and death smiled grimly. On water and on land I have stood, as it were, face to face with that dread of the human race. On the mighty ocean, when our fair bark was tossed as if it were a feather, I could gaze upon the surging billows with awe, aye, with veneration—for there amid the roaring of the tempest., the lashing of the waves, I saw the power and might of the Deity. Death amid the storm and tempest, the flashes of lightning and the roaring of thunder, had no dread for me. To die thus, amid the war of elements, would be a glorious triumph over slow death ! Why should I write this sketch ? Why describe a night of horror, the remem brance of which, although many years have passed away, makes me shudder still ? Is it because it lives in memory, like some horrid spectre. It may, however, tend to withdraw the mind front that one fearful episode in my life, which, like a dark shadow, keeps out all sunshine. To test this theory,l send you this sketch, from the memory of that night of horror. Like a drop that night and day Falls cold and ceaseless, wears my heart away. The State-House clock had struck eight when the clerks left the office. I remain ed alone, as I had some important business to transact, with which the clerks had nothing to do. I locked the front of the office, and for one hour I was busily em ployed at my work. In one corner of the counting-house stood my mammoth safe— a huge affair. I prided myself on being the owner of the fixture. I could stand upright in it and arrange my books and papers without stooping. It was like a small house or an iron tomb, just as fancy might determine. Near the safe stood an old-fashioned, rickety book-case ; a large, ponderous piece of furniture. The safe door, when opened, came within a few inch es of it. It is necessary to mention this book case, for, had it not been there, the adventure I am about to relate would never have been written. I was inside the safe, putting in its place the last book, when there came upon my ear the cry of fire ! followed by the rush of the engines down the street. I listen. ed for a minute, and was in the act of leaving the safe, when—oh, horror ! there came a crash !• The book-ease had fallen against the door of the safe, and its spring was caught in the intricate work ings of the huge lock ! I was thus inclosed in a living tomb, and as the dread sound echoed through the safe I knew it was the knell of my death. For a moment I stood utterly confounded, and when the true state of my situation was realized no tongue can describe nor pen portray the remotest idea of my feel ings. Entombed, incased iu an iron coffin —all sound dead ! The shout I sent forth, as if it could be ever heard, came back in reverberating echoes. Then again all was still—still as death, for my voice was hushed ! The few moments that had pass ed since my incarceration seemed as so many years. How would I die ? Raving mad, perhaps, or by immediate suffocation. Already I felt the presence of the condens ed air acting on my brain—already I felt the blood rushing in tumultuous waves to my head ! To die thus, struggling for life in an iron vault was awful. I calculated the hours, the minutes, and seconds before the time of opening the office, and then—then—the key of the safe —great Heavens !—it was in my pocket, and there was no duplicate. Hours and hours must pass away before the safe could be opened. Opened by whom The man who made it I had no partner in the business; my clerks would not attempt the opening of the safi3 until they had heard from me. How in Heav en's name could that be ? Never, never would they hear the sound of my voice again ! I was there—death's prisoner in an iron vault; they knew it not, nor even imagined such a horrible contingency could be attached to my absence Even if it were so—even when the safe was opened, how would I appear to them ? A lifeless corpse, or a raving maniac. I did not shudder nor groan. All cor poreal sensation was lost in that of the brain. I felt that death in some horrible shape was gathering its shroud around me. In my excited state I imagined that all was over with me. How should I meet death ? Dash my brains out against the iron-sided prison? No, no; not while rea son remained. If I were to lie down with my face pressed to the floor, and remain there quietly, shut my eyes and keep ou,t the oppressive darkness, might I not sleep ? I threw myself full length on the floor, for, as I have already said, the safe was a large one, in the hope sleep or suffocation would end my mental suffering. The dens ity of the atmosphere must naturally pro duce the latter result. No, no; here was no atmosphere, for that was invisible, elas tic fluid which surrounds the earth, and presses by its weight the assemblage of xrifortn vapors. Here was no air—no va por—no motion—nu sound, no atmosphere —to produce either of these active agents of the universe. No ! Death was far away, yet I felt as if the very silence was killing me. The buzzing of a fly, the hum of a bee, or the sound of that mysterious insect whose peculiar imitation of a time piece gives it the name of the "dead watch," even that superstitious pleasure was denied me. There came a change, sudden as it was alarming. The brain began to throb. The heart beat in unison. I felt its deep pul sation ; I' heard its deep, heavy thud against my breast. This 1 say I heard, for it was part of myself. No other sound outside of my own person could have reach ed me there. I felt a pain in my head and brain ; not an ordinary pang, but one that struck at the base of reason. Death was coming ! Welcome ! And I laughed the wild, unmeaning laugh of the maniac. And yet I was not mad; but so near it that had not reason told me it was ap proaching apoplexy, I would have been raving. Welcome apoplexy! It, however, came not. I rolled over and over in my limited cell ; I screamed ; I yelled and shouted for help, and yet all the while I was perfectly conscious of what I was doing. Death was playing with me ! I prayed too, but did not curse. No, no ; for if lam to die—thus I reasoned—let me die in peace with God. These thought?, the r :suit of my early religious education, kept my soul intact with Him who had the best right to it. I endeavored to be calm, strove to rea son myself into patience, and wait the coming day. Day ! alas I what to me was day ? For here all was nisrht. But reason failed. It had no argument to confute facts. HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY, JUNE 22, 1877. Death was here and I had to meet it. But how ? Alas ! alas ! tieit mystery was yet to be solved. All was so still—so silent— that my facultits were benumbed. I re member wondering if the voice of the Deity could be heard in that dreadful place. Was this blasphemy Perhaps it was ; but I was not then accountable for either my words or actions. I was, for the moment, mad! 1 took off my coat and made a plillow of it. Sleep ! Oh !if I could only sleep, and, in forgetfulness, escape the horrors of my waking moments. Sleep was impossible. There was a constant buzzing in my ears, acute pains in my head—a vertigo that drove me again to my feet, and I reeled round the limited space in a whirligig for life. I struck my head against the side of the safe. I felt no pain, for there was ' madness in my acts, with just sufficient reason to add to the horrors o: my situa tion. What could Ido but rave and yell, calling for help, well knowing there was no help at hand ! Why did my senses re main and torture me thus ? Why not go mad and commit some fearful act to end my misery ? Because I was in the hands of One who had issued his edict against self slaughter. I trusted to Him. I start ed to my feet.. My head struck the top of the safe, and I was dashed back again to the floor. Again I shouted, again I laid flat on my face and called on death to come and end my woes. The shout was echoed in low, rumbling sounds, then died away, leaving the silence ten-fold greater. Like the darkness preceding some great shock of nature, its intenseness could be felt. I felt it—felt it in my heart—felt it on my brain—it was pressing me to death. Had I nothing else to think of but my self ? Reader, I have given my own mental and physical sufferings while entombed. I was not selfish even; I analyzed my own feelings and seemingly forgot others out side of the tomb. What, describe other sensations—sensations that -S prung from pictures I could not bring my mind to con template ? Pictures of.home—of wife and children—friends—all these seemed, in my state, as only adding to my misery, for I was doomed, and they were for the time being happy. I kept those pictures back. I even magnified my suffering so that memory might be silent. I could not con template in my excitement two distinct events. I therefore settled all my thoughts, fixed all my energies on one subject—self preservation. I would strive to live—live for those who were even now wondering why I was not with them. Reader, I strove as hard to forget my wife and children and friends as I did to master my dread of the horrible death awaiting me. Understand me. No one placed as I was could think of the past, present or future with any degree of calmness. The reason ing faculties succumbed to physicial ex citement ; they became antagonistic, and, although I endeavored to separate the two, I became more confused. I could think of nothing but my position. Beyond that, if I attempted to go, I foresaw madness So, to avoid all that, I centered all my thoughts on one purpose—selfpreservation. To accomplish this, I could not., even in thought, go beyond my prison house.— Why proceed—why ev©n attempt to de scribe the sufferings I underwent? I raved, I screeched, I fell on the floor, rose again, reeled in maddening fury around my living tomb. I even meditated self-destruction. I argued the point with death. I quoted authorities to prove that suicide was justifiable in some cases, and mine was a case in point. My mind, weakened as it was, hesitated, to grasp at this mode of ending life, and there came up at that moment, a small, child-like voice, saying: "liope—hope on :" Was it a voice or was it merely imagination conjuring up sounds to soothe me ? "Hope !" I started ! a new light seemed to enter my soul and illuminate the Cimmerian darkness sur rounding me. The recreation caused by the strange phenomena was too much for my strength. I lost all conciousnees, and fell as if dead. * * * How long I lay thus I had no knowl edge ; when I came to myself it was to hear a dull sound as if some one was striking the safe. Was help at hand ? Then came a grating sound—then a shock —then came a louder sound, as if from the explosion of gunpowder—a flash, as of lightning. It came into the safe and for an instant the whole space illuminated.— What could it mean ? Was it a dream ? No !no !—reality ! The safe-door was thrown open, and as I rolled out on the floor of the counting-house I again became unconscious. When I came to my senses I was sur rounded by four tierce .looking men--one was bathing my head, while another was holding me in his arms. What could it mean? I was saved, but how and by wh3111? They were burglars who came for the purpose of plunder. They told me so; and instead of money they found what they took to be a corpse. They stood apart—whispered—seemed to hesitate how to act. The safe was opened ; the owner was there at their mercy. Weak as I was, I at once discovered the cause of their hesitation. "You came," I said, to rob me, instead of which you saved my life. The amount or money which you would have obtained is no inconsiderable sum ; it is there— there in that second drawer from the right. Take it—divide it between yourselves, and with it my thanks. You see I am very weak—the excitement cause I by my in carceration. One of the men approached me and said : "We are robbers ; we are in your power; but we are not murderers. We came for money, but " I interrupted him. "No hesitation, sir; it is yours—my free gill,— take it." He then joined his companions, consulted awhile, then came to me and said : "Suppose, sir, that we were detected ? Our entrance may have been observed— the money found upon us—the condition of the safe—thus, you see, upon such evi dence we would be convicted at once." "\Vill you place thit chair before the table and help me to it ? I am completely unnerved. seven hours in that safe near ly killed me." The chair was placed as ordered—the man who had spoken assisted me to it. I took paper and pen, and while those four stalwart, desperate men gazed upon me I wrote the followg : For valuable services, I pay these four men (for the soul of me I could not write gentlemen) the sum 0f51,500. They res cued me from a most horrible death, for which, in addition to this sum, they have my most heartfelt thanks. [Signed] "Take that paper, sir, and if anything should occur, come to me." Thus was I saved, but it was many weeks before I recovered from the effects of that night of horror.—. Hartford Times. Ptatij fly (*Het [Reported by R. hicD►virr. ESQ. The Shade Gap Murder. Trial of Cresswell A. Reese FOR THE Murder of Dr. J. Alfred Shade, In Shade Gap, on December 2d, 1876, WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON THE COMMONWEALTH CONTINUED, Miss Fannie Scott, affirmed. Live in Shade Gap; met Reese on the morning of the day Doctor Shade was killed, at the lower end of town, going towards Orbisonia, walking fast. He said "I hate done the deed now." He did not stop. I did not say anything to him. Thomas McGowan, sworn. Live in Shade Gap; saw prisoner in Huntingdon on Thanksgiving day at Presbyterian church ; told me that his wife had left him again, and was at Mr. Woods'. He called me out of the dining room of the Morrison House into the parlor, N: Taylor along with us ; told me he had sold or pawned his revolver up town, and was not going to redeem it ; that be was going to let her go and not bother himself any more about it, or something like that ; had no more conversation with him till Saturday morn ing at Orbisonia at Dewees' store. Ile and Dewees got to talking and I heard Dewees tell him he had better go up to the dam and throw himself in, or some thing to that amount; heard Dewees tell him if he did not take care he would get a rope round his neck or something of that kind; heard Dowses tell him just before he started for Shade Gap that he had better go on through and not stop there. When we got opposite the dam he said Pewees said he had better throw himself in there and drown himself but he was not that big a fool, and used an oath ; asked me how long it would take a man to hang if he was on the gallows, and if a minute would not finish him; told him I thought it would, but did not want to try it; he said he was not afraid to try it; he was then talkin; about being so aggravated by Shade's doings. We were talking about it all the way till I got•tired of it. Sometimes he would walk 50 or 60 yards after I would speak to him and not answer me. He asked me some place along the road if I thought they would "close in on him," at Shade Gap; asked him what he was going to do, if he was going to hurt Shade, or shoot him ; he laughed and asked me if I thought be would shoot or hurt any one. He asked we if I thought my father would be at home; that he was the only man there that he was afraid of, and I believe he asked me if I thought he would be in at Shade's. I left him right in front of the tin shop He went into the drug store ; did not see Doctor Shade that day till after ho was dying. a Gross—examined. He began the con versation at the church; think he said something about lir. Shade being the in stigation of his wife leaving him ; did not say his trouble had set him crazy or why his wife was at Woods' ; think he said something about her writing to him first when they were married the second time; he did not cry; ho was pretty mad. I wanted to buy the revolver of him in the summer and he would not sell it then; we said nothing about it coming down street; don't think he said what he had pawed the revolver for. He was talking all the time about his wife ' • don't mind what he said about her; the burden was that Shade was not treating him right ; don't mind of him saying that all he wanted was to be permitted to live with his wife and little child ;he did not burst into tears. We met Parsons on the way down and I re marked that his children went to school to ma; don't remember anything else spoken of. He walked with his head to wards tl e ground, and did not apologize foi not answering me; don't remember of him saying that he was going to submit himself to the Doctor ; he might have said so. He said he was going out to see the Doctor and that the Doctor would have to act the man with him ; did not say in what way ; think he said the Doctor had sent her away, but not that he was going to get her back that I know; I did not tell Doctor Shade about it. James Aridley, sworn. Was in Deivees' office when Reese was there. Reese said she was his wife and his lawful wife.— Dewees said he had better not call at Shade Gap that day ; he said he could not pass there that he had to straighten things there that day; said his father had sent for him to go home but he did not expect ever to see his father's house any more.— Dewees said to him "I have heard Doctor Shade talking in your favor for the last two months." Reese said "if he has been talking in my favor he has not been work ing in my favor." Cross-examined. He did not say that the Doctor would not allow him to live with his wife. I did not bear Dewees tell him to throw himself in the dam, or that he had more trouble than would kill ten men, or that he had a dog's life. He used the word "straighten." The tears came down his face when he talked about his wife and child. Dewees did not say "Reese, I pity you from my heart." .Newton Taylor, sworn. Met Reese at the Morrison House with James McGowan. He said he had made up his mind to kill Doctor Shade but had given it up and pawned his revolver and intended to leave Doctor Shade and his daughter alone from this out. He said that she was not worthy to be his wife ; am not sure whether it was Thursday or Friday I saw him. I met him on Saturday morning near Price's mill at Shade Gap; don't remember any conversation ; he was talking to my brother. Cross examined. I did not tell Doctor Shade what Reese told me at the Morrison House; did not see any reason for telling him as he had given it up. Reese and I had been acquainted for some time. I don't remember how he began to talk ; I answered him when he spoke. The first I knew of his trouble he said he was minus a wife again. That was somewhere between the Franklin end Morrison House. I think he said that his wife had said if he would fix up two rooms in his house they would go to housekeeping. He said he had fixed up the rooms and had them ready and no wife to go into them. He did not say who had taken her away, or why he intended to kill Shade. John Taylor, sworn. Am brother of last witness ; met him and Reese on the 2nd of December near Prioe's mill, in the Narrows; Reese asked me if Doctor Shade was in town. I asked him f he wanted to see him. He said he would or that he guessed he would awhile. I said, jestingly, "you don't want to whip him do you ?" He said, "no, I am too much of a coward for that." He then asked me if the stage had gone, I replied no, but I was too poor to ride in the stage. He said he had no reference to that. Robert Mills, sworn. had a conversa tion with Reese last August ; asked him for Nome money; said he had none; I said what did you do with the $6OO you got from Doctor Shade ? He said that was all done, but that he would have to go down and "scare old Shade out of some more." Cross-examned. My wife's father lives on one of Dr. Shade's farms ; had no ar rangements about getting one of the farms if we would swear rig''. in the divorce case; it is the first I ever heard of it. We never talked of any such arrangement. David Waters, sworn. Was working with prisoner at Dr. Rhea's house in August, 1876. Reese claimed $1330 from Dr. Shade and spoke of having a settlement; afterwards said the Doctor had given him $6OO in money or notes. He said he would put a bullet through him if he did not set tle fairly ; I told him he had better not do that, that he might wish he had not, or something to that amount. He made an oath that he would if he did not settle the account. Cross-examined. I told the Doctor about it next day. Reese did not tell me that it was borrowed money and labor, or that the Doctor had got all his money and labor and now taken his wife. Samuel Bollinger, sworn. Live in Crom well township ; niet Reese last September in the ears; said to him "you and the Doctor have your things settled." He said no; and added "I was tempted to shoot the Doctor when we were fussing before, and if he don't pay we what he owes me I'll shoot him yet." I said "don't talk that way before me 1" He says I'll be d-c: if I don't." Cross-examined. I never told the Doctor about it; had no opportunity at that time; bad seen him out never thought about it ; live five miles from him ; have no unkind feeling towards Reese. Finley Hall, sworn. Had a conversation with Reese about two months before the murder. I said "I thought you and Dr. Shade were on good terms now, T heard he paid you $6001" Yes he "says he did, but he owes me $l3OO yet, and if he don't pay me that I'll give him some of this !" and at the same time pulled out his revolver and showed it to me. He said he had aoother revolver, that he had sold or traded off; that it was not as good a one as this one; rays he "this one never misses whack !" says he "my wife and I are fighting like h-1 again." Gross-examined. I said "no you are not," and 4e laughed and said, "the peo ple say so but there is nothing of it." I never told Dr. Shade this. He dii not care about people bothering him. I did not know whether he was in any danger or not. He would not thank any person for telling him anything of that kind. If I had thought Reese , xould do it I would have told the Doctor ; have beard him tall: before but rot quite so bad as that. This was talked of in the neighborhood. Levi Piper, affirmed. Live 2i miles from Shade Gap ; am P carpenter and worked with Reese at Dr. Rhea's house ; he show ed me a bill of $9OO, and said if the Doc tor did not settle and pay him that he would shoot him, and showed me a ravolv er. I hooted at him and told him not to do anything of that kind, and he swore that the Doctor had treated him so bad at one time or another that he was bound to have revenge on him. He told me he had a farm up there that Carrol was on and ho was going to put him off it the spring, "quicker than h--I would scorch a feather," and that I might have it if I wanted it, if not he would put some other good man on it. I said I thought it be longed to the Doctor ; he said it was his wife's and whatever was his wife's was his. I said I guessed the Doctor would control that a while yet. He said the Doctor would not bs here to control it. No cross-examination. Joseph Priest, sworn. Heard Reese say on Friday night on Railroad street, that he was going home to settle with Dr. Shade. Cross-examined. They were in my sa loon at the time. The others were strang ers to me. Reese was partly a stranger to me. 119 was not crying. He was laugh ing part of the time. Wm. .111 c Cowan, sworn. Live in Shade Gap ; heard Reese make threats at my house about ten days before he killed Dr. Shade. lie came there in a bad humor and told me that Shade and he had had some trouble. He said their trouble had gone far enough and was going to be ended in bloodshed; that he was going to shoot him, and I said "Reese, suppose you do shoot him and make your words good, do you know what is for you ?" He said he did not know nor he did not care. I told him he could not expect anything but the gallows. He said he did not care a d—n if he hanged on the lamp-post before the door. He and his wife staid that night at any hotel • heard him some time last Au• gust say if Shade did not settle and give him satisfaction he would do so and so. I I could not remember the twentieth word. After the settlement Reese was apparently perfectly satisfied; said that Shade had treated him like a man, acted the gentle man and paid him what he asked. I was there when he came into the dr'ig store; can't remember who were there; William Caldwell and myself and I think Welch, perhaps some others. He talked to me a good deal He was sitting there when I left for Orbisonia about Di o'clock, with John Peterson in the wagon. Cross examined. Our conversation be fore was on Wednesday night a week pre vious to the killing. His wife came there before him and told me they had trouble. She did not tell me she Liad been sent down on account of Reeve ' s violence, or that they would not let them stay. She went next day to her father's and he went to his, and returned the next Tuesday or Wednesday, when she had gone. He asked me if I knew where she was and I said I did not. He said she had told him she was going to Mt. Union to buy some furniture and they were going to housekeeping. I told him that was pretty good, and he said "well they helped to break me up, and they had a right to start me." Never saw him after wards till the morning of the killing, nor his wife till the death of her father. Doctor Shade did not send me to take her away from her husband. I did not go to take hold of Reese in the church to keep him away from his wife. I was called to go into Jamison's hotel when they were fighting, and parted them. I did not see the Doc tor with a revolver. He never told me that he had succeded in parting them. I believe I saw the Doctor kicking him when holding his child, but that was away back. I did not go to assist the Doctor in kick • ing him out. Reese sent me to see wheth er he could talk to him five minutes, and he said go back and tell Reese not to come to my home, and if he does I will break his head. Susan lifcGou;an, sworn. Am the wife of the last witness. Heard a conversation between Reese and his wife on the morn ing referred to, at the hotel. He asked her to take a note down to her father's to get him to sign it for $lOO, that he wanted the money and must have it; she told him she could not do it; that they bad asked him for money so often, but finally agreed to try him once more. He said "I see yakrlon't want to take it ; I'll take it my self, and if he refuses I'll blow his brains out before I leave the house." She said "Reese, don't you know you could be ar rested for such threats?" He said he did not give a 4—n, he was determined to do it and if he commenced his work once he intended to finish it up, and the first man that would interfere he would shoot him through ; he did not care if they sent him to h-1 in five minutes afterwards, that he was determined to have this thing settled. Cross-exontined. Reese did not go to the Doctor's that day. I know nothing about his wife sanding him chesnuts and shirts. She said she had sacrificed her happiness and everything else on his ac count, and did not like to ask for money but would do that much for him yet. She had conic there often before in thQ same way. THURSDAY MORNING Asher Drake, recalled. When the last shot was fired I think Reese said '.‘you 'infernal old whelp you," or something to that purpose, just the moment before the shot. Crow examined. I was standing at the coruor like, by the board walk ; got there just when they were coming out of the nouse. Wilson Locke and I came Jp just as they were coming out of the door. Wm. Lynn, sworn. Live 3i miles from Shade Gap, and was in th- tin shop across the st:eet when the firing commenced Witness corrob rates the other witnesses in regard to al; the circumstances connected with the killing P. Dewees, sworn. Reside et Rock hill Furnace, near Orbisonia ; saw Reese on the morning referred to by McGowar. Reese and he were going to his fathbr's at Burt Cabins and did not know whether he would come back or not. Understood him to spy he was getting reaiy to leave the country. He said he was gc . ag to stop at Doctor Shade's and the Doctor would hive to explain to him why his wife was in Huntingdon ; that she could not have got 'here without money and she had none. and, I insisted on him not stopping at Loctor Shade's that morninn.. He said he wouhl stop and the Doctor would have to make :hat explanation. I several times insisted on him not stopping, and he still said he would. I then said to him, "you seem to be completely demoralized and the best thing you can do is to go up to the dam and (irom; yourself" I told him I hoped be would not do anything to get r rope round his neck. I had no conversa tion with him about Doctor Shade at that Elmo; none in presence of Ridley. I told him I thought Doctor Shade was friendly to hirr Cross-examined. There was nothing further said about his domestic troubles; lie did not say he could not bear his troubles; I did not say he had more trouble than would kill ten men; don't know whether the Lars came down his face or not. I di,n't know that I asked him to vote for the Doctor's delegate fur me. Wm. P. Gilliland, affirmed. Had a conversation with Reese about three years ago in which he showed his revolver tell ing how nard it would shoot and then said if he ever got into a quarrel with Dr. Shade he could soon put a bullet through him. Cross examined. I knew about the fam ily troubles and had an idea of what he referred to. We talked about other things at the same time. Mrs. Jane Collin', sworn. Am acquaint. ed with Reese. He boarded with me in Orbisonia from the 16th day of October till Wednesday before the murder. He said he was g;ing to shoot Dr. Shade and have revenge; that he would blow his brains out; could not tell when it was. • Cross examined. He was at my place when his wife left to go to Huntingdon. He told me several times that he wanted his dinner early to go to the cars to meet her on her return; told me several times he had a good deal of trouble. Samuel Widney, affirmed. Had a conver sation with Reese in the fall of 1875 be tween Orbisonia and the "Narrows." He told me if Shade bothered him any more be would shoot him ; said he had two re volvers to do it with. We had a conver sation about Dr. Shade's circumstances at the tithe. He asked me what I thought he was worth; told him I supposed $6OOO or $7OOO ; heard afterwards that they were married the second time that night or the next. day. Cross.examined. I knew Dr. Shade well ; had known Reese four years; he did not show his revolvers; I did not look to see if he had them ; never told the Doc tor; it did not make any particular im pression on my mind. Wilson McGee, sworn. Had a conversa tion with Reese at his father's lime kiln in 1876. He said he had scared Shade out of $6OO ; that he went in and told him that he wanted that amount of money and Shade ordered him out and he pulled out his revolver and cocked it at his head and he caved d-d quick. He said I'll shoot him yet, and showed me a revolver, and said "I am always prepared; I have six loads with me now I" He pulled his coat up and I saw the revolver. He said •'I have been fooled so much that I don't care a d-n for Lynch law or any other law. He showed me some money ; don't know how much. eross.examined. I did not tell the Doctor about it. Samuel Waters, sworn. Am acquainted with Reese. Met him on the 30th of November last at the Jackson House in Huntingdon. He said he was off hunting his wife; that she had left him. I think I asked him the cause and he blamed the Doctor with it, and said he would put an end to this trouble now. He had an over coat on and his hands in his pocket and he pulled a revolver out and showed it and said, "I am going down to Orbisonia to stay there tonight, and go out to Shade Gap in the morning and I'll shoot the Doctor." I told him not to do it, that perhaps the Doctor did not know that his wife had left him. I had a conversation with him next day at same place and he told me he had changed his mind and had been up at Mr. Woods' to see his wife and talk to her and she refused to talk to him. He said he had come to the conclusion that he would not send his soul to the devil for them. I understood him to say that he had pawned his revolver. I said, "Reese that's the best thing you could do, as you are a young MR in the prime of life and don't need to ruin yourself for any body. I was then walking away from him and he turned round and showed where he was boarding and recommen me there if' I came again. The first th'n.r he said on the first day I think was :o n , - thing about a check or note that the Doer.,* had given his wife to go to Mount Union to buy furniture, or something of th , it kind. He said that Will Shade's wre was dead and that his wife thon",lit had a poke in there, or something of t'l kind. Cross-examined. It was about noon wl.e:l I first saw him. He did not tell me 1 11-1 been to church. He first referred troubles both times; I did not stor t: Doctor's on my way home. Wm. A. Hudson, sworn. flare kn Dr. Shade since the fall of 1842 wbor, first came to Shade Gap. Ile was abo 55 or 56 years of age. Ile was a 111.11. about my size and physical al - :.l;ty, 5 1c... 8 inches high and weighed 140 or !-:7 pounds. Did not look like a stwit malt !d• all. I would not take him to bo a stro!.•• man by any means. lie was co:-.1piai::1 somewhat but in his usual health ..t time. I saw him that morning b.,rore was killed. .Morrow, Alcorn. Havr! k naty Reese over a year. Had a couvees..::-,o with him in .June or July last in the sf•!.• of Rhea &Co, in Shade Gap (If: to:: me he was going down to try anal ga settlement out of Dr. Shale that day n::.1 if he did not settle with him and pay hi:a what he owed him be would slne:t Lain A short time after that he came into the and told me he got a icttlenion; anal t h e Doctor had paid hint, anal ttok out plekat book and showed me -4,inv nor and check' and I think some mo, . seemed rather rejoiced over the s , :ttly,.v;il Pistol considered in evidence. Commonwealth rests DEFENSE, Mr Speer, for the prisoner, occupied :thou: an hoar in :'►e opening speech, which, i.i ad dition to indicating the line of argument to 1.), pursued, was a most eloquent, touchintr n•. 4 PARIIICTIe APPEAL 4o the conscience and judgment of the Jury passing upon the guilt or innocence of ki,se in fortunate prisoner at the bar. T.,e =oleo's) forrki which thl law provides in all cases f hotricid.;, be said, should impress un the minds the gravity of the duty restin, up:sn then. Down tnrougli the ages these safe guards have been thrown around jurors ar,cl all the ay..naues that lead to the Tetuple Justice where a man's life is on trial. It ha been 3ruid that there are some hours in a notu's lifetime into which are pressed the duties and responsibilities of years, just as the strength and fragkance of a thousand roses may be found in one drop of their essence. You, gentlemen, will feel, with me, that nn matter how dark the night may be, the:o is no night without the dawn of morning ; no storm no pitiless that the sunshine does not at last come; and no sorrow so bottomless that its depths may not at last be reached. So here, through the pitiless storm of monllis years, this poor, tempest-tossed husband awl father stands before you, and in your hand rests life. With the right to strike you out of that box, he has said, in this solemn hour of his grief and trial, that he to trust you, Lod through the ages of the ear ;. and the ages of eternity, you will never .ave a higher tribute paid to your integrity and judgment. If he did not know you his counsel d. i. nod we say to you now, as we did when you we , t , seated in the box, that you are just men. ni.,l that if his life shoutd not be taken you wou:ii takeit ; that no passionate cry of the mob, nothing but the evidence, under the instruc tion of the Court, would guide yos4 in ss• solemn duty that rests upon you. Lift yos , :- selves then, gentlemen, above everything thi:t would influence your minds, except the deuce. Know no commonwealth and 'so defendant, but know the truth - nd your d You are not here as this man's acrusors. n and I are part of the Commonwealth, wh'e: means the body of the people. We all b. , ve a common interest in the administration of the law and the punishment of the gEilty, but vr have a higher interest in the protection of ;',e innocent. Your duty here is not to convic or acquit, but to determine on the evid , uce. and when your minds are made up, if it be for conviction or acquittal, say so. There is much in this case to elicit zadec.. and sorrow, but sadness and sorrow are , the tests of your duty. They will not recai! Dr. Shade from his grave and restore him his home and family, and they should not take this poor unfortunate man from his little ab.lcl into eternity ! It is the owl and the ha :•nol the bittern that will live in the thicket and the brush,.but the eagle, prowl prince of the air, in the sublime majesty of his soars into the upper sky. So you should :;ft yourselves above prejudice and pa'siou, and the horrors of this scene, and standing the:l., in the soft sweet sunlight ofJustice and Trut h, weigh this unfortunate man's case as you would be weighed under like circumstances. That on the 2nd of December, 1876, Dr. Shade lost his life is not disputed. T:tat he was l e full life on the morning of that day, and that about half past 11 o'clock he died from U., effects of violence received at the bands of the defendant is also admitted, but gentienaen vi the jury, it is not admitted that the hand tit , ' pulled the trigger that fired the ball wis di rected by a con.stious THE CLAIM OF THE DEFES:A.: is that from early life the prisoner of we.t mind ; that there was INSANITY in the family, of which several of his rclativ:. , had died, and which was excited by DOMESTIC TROCBLES. He was a temperate, industrious, e , pect .- ble young man, but inexperienced in th^ way 3 of the world. Dr. shade was a respectable physician of Shade Gap ; a cunning, oh. cwd designing man. The men were nnegn.►l in mn t respects, and the Doctor deliberately planned and consummated the marriage of Reese and I. daughter while Reese was working at ais ! nn as a journeyman carpenter. THK MARRIARE from the beginning was unfortunate. Dom tic troubles came thick and fast. Paren al isdwence was used to ferment dissension sn.l unhappiness. The Doctor and Mrs. Sl;ade tuatla every effort to induce their daughter ro her husband, and the result was A Divortcr, which. in turn, was followed by n g -MARRIAGE . which, it seems, was attended with no better results. Parental influence w.,s sti:l poisoning the mind of the d:tuzhter, fome;.t is 4 jealousy and unhappiness, HI the cons( gnaw-it NV as "A SECOND fiErARATTON:' the wife again deserting her husband, and : fusing to be seen by him or even to speak t him. This long series of outrage and worry so wrought upon the unfortunate prisoner that his mind sank under it and he became, on ti nt subject, A. MONOMANIAC. No matter where seen, or to whom coove s ing it was still the "SORB R&D STORY" of his wrongs, until it finally culmin , •ed in the unfortunate occurrence which has pia( ed him here. On the day and at the time of sad occurrence be was AN lIIIMPONSIBLE MAN, rendered such by the actions of his victim, it remained for the jury to say whether murder should be punished by commit another; whether this man for this cau;e, a.)(1 under this evidence, should stand at t::e 1- t day, before the Great White Throne, stamp: as a murderer. If the blade of justice nuns, fall here let it be tempered by that merry which you and I will have to claim at la-t from our Judge. Court adjourned till 2 P. M. THURSDAY ATTBRNOON. Andrew Ilagie, *worn. Witness was approae: , - ing the house of Dr. Shade, on h3rseback, on the day of the murder, and testified to hear ing the noise inside, without producing any aed tioual facts. (Continued on 2nd page.) NO. 25.
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