Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, June 06, 1895, Image 1

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    VOLXXXII
READ and REFLECT.
A GRAND OPPORTUNITY—With the dawn of proeperity just be
fore us and the improvement in business notwithstanding We sometime
ago decided to clos-e ont onr entire stock of Men's Boys' and Childrens'
Clothing, which we will continue to do at prices that will be to the advan
tage of all desiring to purchase clothing No matter how little or how
mieh money you have to invest, we know it will be hard on tie Clothing
business, bat as we are determined to close out we cannot help it Our
stock ia the largest in the county. Men's fine black worsted pants all wool
only $2.00. We have more pants than any two storeß in town. Our
children's suits are marvels of beautv; all the late novelties, t-uch as the
Regent, Eaclid, Neptune Columbia.Reefers, Jerseys, Kilts Ac. from 50cts
np Bovs' Double and Single Breast Round and Square corner Piain or
Plaited—All will be sold without reserve.
Jfe will still continue to carry a full and complete line of Hats, Caps,
Shirts, Ties, Collars, Cuffs, Handkerchiefs, Underwear, Hosiery, Overalls,
Jackets, Sweaters, UmbrellP-S, Trunks, Yalices, Telescopes, Hammocks
Brushes Combs, JJ> atches, Chains, Charms, Rings, Coller and Cuff But
tons &c We still carry the ' Semper 4 dem" Shirt, the best nnlaundried
shirt in the world onlv $1 00. Oar 75 cent shirt is equal to any SI,OO
sbirt on the market Our line of Cheviott, Percaile and Madras shirts, full
and complete.
H'e have fouiid that one man's m- rvy is better than two men's credit.
sid have adopted the cash plan Bi'd fiud that it works wonder Be
member that we are the old reliable, the pioneer of good goods at low prices;
that we have been here a quarter of a century against all comers and goere.
have stayed with yon and done yon good It will pay you to com? for
miles as we can save vou Monev, no matter how low yon are oflcred goods
Jf' 1 vp no baits to pull the wool over your eyes. A fai r , tquare deal 1
wf u -»• ; f rtiise aod are here *0 fulfil that promise.
r 1 fjppif psr
\j h lILAjFi, (jIOTHISR, FURNISHER and HATTER,
121 N. Main St., Butler, Pa.
FEET of all kinds can lie
fitted at
Bickel's
BickelVjf 7 //( Bickers
Bickel's V)/j I Bickel's
Bickel's 1 f Bickel's
Bickel's \
N . mi'ter bow bard ycu are 10 nt and what »iyle you may wish, yeu
enn he Fuited lr« m our large stock.
NO doubt y< u bate retd abi ui the advance in leather and have come
to the conclusion that you will huve to pay more for your shoes, but such is
not the case if you will buy from us. Having made several largo purchases
fr< m nme < f the lending manufactures, I am prepared to show von the
ini f. (ft itl«ciim c-f F OOTS and SHOES in Butler county and can sell you
them at the OLD LOW prices All our goods are marked away down and
qv trading with us you will get your shoes lower in price and higher in
I ualiiy than can be had elsewhere NEW STYLES and plenty of them
•re pouring In every day. Here we list a few; note the prices:
Men's Fine Calf Shoes, any style at $2.
Men's "A" Calf Shoes any style at f1.25.
Men's Buff Sbo»s Lace and CoDgress at sl.
Men's Working Shoes !*oc and upwards in price.
Boy 'B Fine Dress Shoes at $1 2
L»di»s Fite I)< rpola Pat. Tip Shoes Razor toe flexible sole at $2
Ladies Fine Dongola Pat. Tip Bh< es $1 50 in all styles
I adies DoDgola Shoes at sl. per pair.
Misses Snoes sizes 12 to 2 ranging in price from SO: to $1 50
Children's School Shoes 50c and upwards in price
Infantß Shoes 20c to 50c a pair.
Ladies' Oxfords 75c to $2
All sizes and widths Also full stock of Misses and Children's Oxfords in
Black and Men's Canvass shoes kc.
Boot- and Shoes Made to Order Repairing Neatly Done.
Orders by mail receive prompt attention. When in need of anything in
our line call and see me.
JOHN BICKEL,
IL2H ir> Main Street,
BUTLER, PA.
Branch Store |2 5 n riain st,
++REMEMBER THIS.++ HUSELTON'S
M ML S ping' Shoes
Easy, stylish and comfortable
Footwear for Spring and Summer.
Wm- Our Ladies and Men's Tan and
E* +Black Shoes, +
Mjlj 1 Are sueh and extremely dressy.
jj., We are ready with an immense
. J Jt W v line in all colors, Russia Calf, Vici
Kid and Razor London; New
A lew words in parting. Opera and French Toes.
Go to HUSELTON'S for my $ $ $ $ $
ax. i .u >»00 1,50 2,00 2,50 3,00
Shoes; don t you go any other | £ ,j.
place; 1 have tried them and his . , .. . .
v More and better styles than any
arc the best, recollect what I say. other showing in Butler.
Full line Misses and Children's Tan Shoes, Fit for a King at
prices in harmony with the times. You don't need a fat pocket
book to deal here.
Tan Shoes will be especially popular this Spring. New Shades
and Shapes.
Our Stock in Mens Boys ami Youths, excel anything ever
shown in Butler. They are stylish and fine enough to suit the most
fastidious tastes. Prices on these 75c —90c —$1,00 —$1,25 —$1,50
—s2,oo —s2,so —and—s3.oo. —Don't fail to pay us a visit, we have
rices way down and Quality way up.
B. C, Huselton, -#
102 N. Main Street, -
THE QUESTION is often asked, What Paint shall we use?
THE ANSWER : If you are looking lor covering
capacity, wearing qualities, general appearance, and
your money's worth, you must buy
THE SHERWIN-WILLIAMS
Oaten Moat. Looki But. Wtari longiit. Host economical. Full Mtaturt.
I———————
Our prices are for "best goods" first, last and all
the time. We are in the business to stay and
brushks, 5. W. P. stays with us.
COLORS IN OIL,"
HOUSE & COACH
VARNIBHCH,
J. C. REDICK, 109 N. Main St.
THE- BUTLER CITIZEN.
Emma Pedrlclc
Philadelphia, Pa.
Simply Marvelous
Intense Suffering of a Young
Girl Ended
Whit© Swelling Cured by Hood's
Barsapari!la.
" Gentlemen—Urged by the feeling that
tome parent might have attention direct
ad to Hood's Sarsaparilia through my
; ttatements, as mine was through that Mr.
! Jno. L. McMurray of Havens-wood, W.
i Ya., I give the particulars of my daughter
suffering and cure. In December,
1 1880, when four years old, she injured her
! right knee by a fall. The injury culmin
ated in white swelling. The limb
commenced to contract, and to en
able her to get around I made her a
Pair of Crutches.
| While using these she had a second fall,
| the knee grew worse and the limb con
j tracted. The following August the doc
i tors decided to bandage the leg. They
pulled the kiiec-loiut apart by main
strength and put It in a plaster bandage.
" During the six months the use of the
plaster-of-paris bandage was continued,
ft was renewed three or four times. The
limb grew worse instead of better. AJI
sorts of appliances and bandages were re
sorted to, but there was no improvement,
the disease continued its inroads.
Five Abscesses
formed on the limb. V» e took her to
a prominent hospital. The doctor said
It would be necessary to open the leg and
scrape the bone, and perhaps finally to
Amputate the Limb.
She had wasted away to a mere shadow
and as I didn't believe she could survive
the operation, I made up my mind she
might as well die with two legs as one.
" just at this time. I happened to read a
testimonial from West Virginia describ
ing a case so similar to my child's, and in
which Hood's Sarsaparilia had effected a
cure, and I immediately decided to give
that medicine a trial. It took hold
From the First.
Before she had taken two bottles ft
core or piece of bone came out of one of
the abscesses near the ankle. To come to
the point, three bottles of Hood Barsa
parillacurert Emmacompletely. Headers
of this can imagine my esteem for Hood's
Hood's^* 1 Cures
Sarsaparilia better than I can express it.
Hood s Sarsaparilia Is a family medicine
with us. We warmly recommend it to
everybody." William H. Pedrick, 1114
South Seventeenth St., Philadelphia, I'a.
L, it r»Jll- the aftar-dlnner pill and
nooa S i HIS family cathartic.
The New Spring Styles.
S §OM>
u
Hi
If you want the nobbiest and
cheapest suits, drop in and see
what we can do for you. We now
have in stock spring and summer
styles.
Another—Hero they are. Do
you want to be in he world? l)o
you want to be in "ishion? You
are sure of botl the latest style
and the best goods : f you buy
your suits of us.
Forward -March is 'he onlj
motto in business. This is illus
trated in our new spring stock
We have better goods for less
money, than ever were offered l>e
lore. Styles strictly the latest.
Fits guaranteed.
COOPER & CO.,
Leading Tailors,
301 South Main St., Butler, I'a
w. ETRALSTONS
For fine Watches, Diamonds and
Optical Goods of all kinds
I. k FRENCH
Gradua e Opti
cian, at No. 132 S. Main street,
Butler, Pa.
WALL
ttinsn
PAPER.
nnumuii
All grades from Brown Blanks
up to the finest embossed Bronzes.
The better the paper the better
the Bargain.
Buy your good papers n<nv and
get them at wholesale prices.
Window Shades in all the
latest colors at
DOUGLASS',
Near P. O.
snuuiiN.
In Wall Street BuPcesslu.ly earrleil lon wltli
lb* Hill of our ImIIJ Market I.<!tt;-r aii.l paraph
lets on speculation. MAII.!. »MtKI.
Discretionary Accounts " S|>i"'i4lty.An In |
formation free. Ilai.k refer.-nc.-n. VJI-.INMAN ,
ti Co Stock and drain llrokers..4l .llroauway
New York
J). L. CL.KELANI)
Optician,
125 b. Main, St.
IUTTLKK. PA.,THURSDAY, JUNE 6, 1895.
RIGiIARD*™.CoLM'JoHNSToN- i
(opyright. iasa bysJ.s.lippincott company* (
f-he was not quite ready to di>miss
him, having some other things to say.
Lifted somewhat from the deep of
the pit into which he had been cast,
! anger and sense of the need oi remov
ing whatever suspicion she had that
his proposition had been made with
any apprehension of the consequence
of litigation over the will, with what
coolness he could assume, he said:
"Well. Hannah, your conduct took
i me so much by surprise that I got a lit
tle mis-put just now. I'm all right
aprain. Of course you don't expect me
to do anything about the property after
what's passed. As for what Arthur Dab
| ney is to do with what he's begun, and
j what you hint he's thinking about be
j ginning, if he was a better lawyer he'd
see that none of it, not a thing of it,
can come to anything. I don't deny,
and Ood knows I don't want to deny,
I but what you and your child are enti
| tied to your part in what land father
! bought since the making of his will;
j that you and he will get; but, as the
! executor of the will, I shall be the one
to attend to that."
•'I don't expect of 3 - ou anything cx
i cept what you know you'll be driven
j to do. Wiley Amerson, you are worse
! than I took you to be. I had the no
j tion once that by conciliation on the
i part of Cullen and myself you might
I bo induced into a settlement which
j would not »e so grossly unfair that lie
' might not accede to it. He knew
• better, because he had known you so
: long. I believed that my behavior to
ward your father and you had done
much to remove the prejudice both of
you had against me when I married
Cullen. I didn't dream but that every
thing was all right until after his
death, when you produced that will.
Then I thought, foolish as it all was, to
conciliate again, hoping, but not fully
■sure in my mind, that such action,
undertaken in the interest of my hus
band and my child more than of myself,
was excusable. I was well paid for it.
I knew you cared nothing for your
wife, but I did not suspect you capable
of such conduct. lam thankful that
my motives in what I did were under
stood by Cullen and Julia, and that I
had lost none of their affection. Poor
dear Julia did advise you to marry me,
but she died knowing it to be impos
sible. She did nof tell you her changed
views, because in the little time after
wards she felt that all her thoughts
must be occupied in preparing to meet
her God. How you could have stood
up before her and taken that advice,
knowing the motives for giving it,
only God can tell. Another thing I
know. Your notion then was not to
marry me. That is recent, beginning
with last Tuesday's issue of the South
ern Recorder. If you had been a true
man you would not have thought of
marriage to any woman in so short a
while aftur your wife's death. Your
"GO, SIB!"
avowing it to me shows you to be a
savage, and what you would attempt
now, if you were not afraid, shows you
to be even Worse than that. As for
your threat about what you will and
will not do about the property, I know,
as everybody docs, that you will get
all and keep all you can. Vou may
not know it, but the very last thoughts
given by that good woman to her hus
band were fear of ruin to him for his
evil doings. She told no facts to crim
inate him, because she was true to the
man who had outraged her. Go, sir.
Vou let your father die with a blot
upon his name which you could have \
after defrauding your broth
er of his rights, you would have put dis
honor upon his name, and would now
put it on his memory; you neglected
and shamed a wife who was one of the
very saints; and now, seeing you can
not gain another end you have in view,
you are going to try to oppress yet fur
ther the survivors in your family. If
it be God's will to allow it some time
longer, so be It; but I haven't a doubt
that In the end His protection will be
upon me and mine. Mimy, Mimy,
come," she called aloud.
Without a word of answer he went
away.
"What Marse Wiley want 'long wid
you, Mis' Harnah? I hear you talkin'
so sej'ous an' sollom-like."
"Nothing very important, Mimy. I
called you to let him know that I
thought it time for him to go."
yjAAI'TEK XIII
Dabney decided that, with Hannah's
consent, lie would get assistant coun
sel. He was moved to this the sooner
by the apparently enhanced confidence
in the looks and gait of Amerson when
he happened to meet him upon the
street, and by one or two bita of pleas
ant raillery from Watson, his lawyer.
"What's the use, Dabney," said the
latter, one day—"what's the use of
your pretty widow wanting letters of
administration on those two pieces of
land? There can't be any difficulty
about dividing them fairly. My client
wants nothing but what is right. At
leabt so he says. Looks like.you and
sho want to make a little fuss about
nothing."
"No, Mr. Watson, we are not quar
relsome persons, and, like your client,
we desire nothing but right."
"Well, I don't blame you much for
wanting to be a little noisy over small
matters. I was that way myself when
u you ntf lawyer. Except, for the awk- ;
wardness, not to say nonsense, of
having two administrations, 1 don't
know that I'd oppose your tipplb-at ion.
Hut If Hie court understands the law
of the rase, which they seldom do, they
won't xrant them, whether I oppose
yon or not."
"Thanky for your generosity, Mr.
Watson. I'll lie careful not to put too
high u tux upon it."
"Isn't she a beauty, though? I saw
her In Ralner's store to-day, and, on
my word, I don't remember ever see
ing a finer-looking woman. Why, the
fellow Muslim!" and he laughed heart- I
ily. "Well, well," seeing that Dabney |
barely smiled, "don't tnind nay joking, \
Dabney. If there is to be much of a j
War, each of >is doubts not that the I
.other will light fairly; you know that, |
Dftbuey,"
"Certainly I do, Mr. Watson."
"By George," soliloquized the elder
when they had separated, "I forgot
that Dabney was a beau of the widow
when she was Hannah Enlow. His
blushing shows that the thing has broke
out on him ligain. Well, if she ever
gets to want another husband, as such
a woman can't help, and a pity it would
be if she could, she'll never get a bet
ter than Dabney."
The application for letters was meant
mainly as a notice to the public as well
as to Amerson that Cullen's widow in
tended to make every possible issue
with his administration of the estate.
It was well Dabney thought to keep
the matter in people's minds, hoping
that from their discussions things
might be gathered which would seem
to justif3* an attack upon the will, and
at least force Amerson to such a com
promise as he could advise liannah to
be content with. The more he reflected
upon Watson's words indicating quasi
acquiesence in the application, the
more they seemed suspicious. The
difficulties in the case seemed to him
to grow »more various, subtle and in
ti icate.
Seaborn Torrance habitually attend
ed the superior court, which, in the
dozen and more counties of which the
circuit composed, held spring and
fall term No lawyer in middle Geor
gia was regarded as more able than he,
particularly in the conduct of cases in
volving complicated issues. Besides
very high admiration for him. Dabney
had M>irie affection, having gotten
more than once from him timely sug
gestions when trying cases. The in
ferior court, limited to the county, also
held two sessions iu the year. This
court had civil jurisdiction, except as
to land, co-ordinate with the former,
and sat as a court of ordinary besides.
It was composed of five justices elected
by the people. Often suits of great im
portance were instituted therein, be
cause, as the judiciary allowed to par
ties two trials, those dissatisfied with
the rulings of officials without learn
ing in the law could appeal to the
higher tribunal. Therefore, lawyers
from other counties seldom attended.
It was on business outside that Tor
rance came to the town on the Satur
day before the court at which Han
nah's application expected to be con
sidered. Dabney, grown more anxious,
called upon him one night at Huson's.
He found him in good case, having set
tled his business satisfactorily and got
ten a good supper. When Dabney had
made his statement he said:
"Yes, yes. You see how thing's come
around, Arthur. Wiley Amerson cheat
ed out of near two thousand dollars a
client of mine in Hancock, there on
Island creek, nigh the Baldwin line.
It was too late when the poor fellow
came to me to do him any good, but I
sent word to Wiley, and I know he got
it, that I meant if I lived to try to pay
him back. And your client is Hilly
Knlow's daughter in the Oconee dis
trict. lie was a poor man, but an hon
est. They said she was a beauty. By
the way, didn't I hear she used to be
an old sweetheart of yours? eh, Dab
ney? However," lie went on, not
seeming to notice the seriousness on
Dabney's face, "let's to the business.
Now as to tlie fee, I'll leave that to
you, only that I'll take no retainer,
but trust to the contingent. Would
that be satisfactory to the widow?"
"Why, of course, Mr. Torrance, more
than satisfactory. She'd hardly think
she ought not to insist—"
"No, no. You see I want, if I can,
to get even with Amerson, and then,
my good lad, I want to help you; for
it's a case that if we can put it through
will give a good shove to the reputa
tion you've already got."
"Why, my dear Mr. Torrance, I don't
know how to thank —"
"Don't do it, Dabney, at least in
words. Let's talk now about what
you've done and then what's to be
done. Cussing ain't much of a
habit with me, though I sometimes do
blaze out, us I felt once or twice like
doing when you were stating the case
Just now to me. Hut it's a'most Sun
day, and my wife would feel in yet
more scolding mood if she knew that
I'd been cussing Wile Amerson. So let
that go for the present. As for the
application for administration, my
counsel is to let that rest awhile.
When the time comes, we'd better ap
ply for letters in full, leaving out de
bonis non. That, you see, Watson will
construe as an admission of the will's
validity. See, Dabney?"
"I do now," Dabney answered, smil
ing
"No harm done; no harm done. You
let the case go l>y. Monday. I don't
believe I'd go in the courthouse at all.
That will put them to thinking that
we feel content to bide our time to
jjf iff ~,'nv
'
Q* ,
W
PAH.NKV CAI,LEI> I'J'ON HJM ONIC NIOHT.
strike for higher things. People will
talk about the infernal case, and you
must keep your cars open. There isn't
a shadow of doubt in my rnind that
there's fraud somewhere, and if there
is, why, you and I have got to find
where it's hid. What's the use of be
ing lawyers if such a fellow as Wile
Amerson can keep blinding the eyes of
both of us with his filthy dust? lie's
as sly as he's rascally, but he can't rub
out every single one of his tracks.
His courting the widow so soon, coarse
dog that he is, shows that it was more j
than one bird ho was after, and that
he's anxious. You work up the case,
and let me hear from time to time of
your discoveries. Note little things as
well as big. Have you ever looked at
that will? No? Well, I want to when
I come again. My observations have
been that about all such villainies In
animate things used in their consum
mation sometimes give signs that,
minute and slight as they arc, if a man !
will study them closely, seem to point to
lurking-places which it is worth while
to ferret. I knew I'earce Amerson—a
rough man, and In old age made too
aspiring by Wiley. Hut Tie was up
right—at least he was always so re
garded—and I have no idea that he
meant to delude in saying he would >
destroyed that will, now its destruc
tion was prevented we've got to find
out. If we do that, other things will
follow. The law and the public are
against disturbing such depositions,
however capricious and unjust; but if
we can show that at the time of the
execution old Amerson's mind was la
boring with unfounded prejudice#
against his son for marrying as he did
it will go hard if we can't at least di
vide the jury and afterwards drive
Wile to some sort of compromise; and
if we can put on his tongue the spring
of that influence, we'll bring an action
of slander ancillary to other proceed
ing. In hunting such a rat as Amer
son, we've got to employ every artifice,
trap, dead-fall, shotgun and bane. Eh,
Dabney? Eh, my boy?"
Without waiting for a response he
continued:
"Well, that'll do for to-night. I feel
like there are other things on my mind
to say, but I'll wait till they get into
clear shape. I'm tired. Come by after
breakfast in the morning and we'll
have another chat before I start. Sun
day, I know, but we are now engaged
in getting out of the pit, not an ox nor
an ass, but a widow and an orphan.
Heigh-ho! the meanness is in this
world! Still, I like to live in it, old as
I'm getting and with all that I've seen
in it."
After he had gone the next morning
the young lawyer felt, and so assured
his client, that the case was stronger
than he had hoped.
CHAPTER XIV.
Mr. Flint had spoken in public of the
will in such terms of blame that Amer
son began to avoid him. Dabney,
hearing of this, asked Rachels to re
quest him to call at the office when he
next came to town. So on the next
Saturday, his day for coming in, while
sipping his first toddy at the "Big In
dian." Rachels said:
"I'ncle Lishy, Squire Dabney was in
here not long back and he asked me to
tell you, the first time I see you. he
wished you'd stop iu his office, as he
wants to have a little talk with you
about a matter."
"Squire Dabney!" said the customer,
setting down the tumbler which he
was raising. "Why, what do he want
along of m<\ yo' reckon, Gustie? I
never had no business with him, ex
ceptin' to get him to draw up a will for
me, and I paid him for that, like I
allays do for everything as I go up.
Did he say what it was about?"
"No, sir; but I got the idee somehow
it might be about the Amerson will.
He never let on in them words, but
somehow I gethered that idee."
"Pearce Amerson's will! Why, my
Lord, I got nothin' to do 'long of
Pearce Amerson's will, exceptin' I
were one o' the witnesses, and I ben
sorry for that ever sence I heard how
ag'in' Cullen it went, that were my
favorite 'inong his two boys, aud I
told Wile so. Cut that's every blessed
thing I had to do with it!"
"It mayn't be that, Uncle Liahy. As
for that will, it's a shame it were ever
made, and it'll be a pity if it ain't
brc'"»."
"Come, now, Gustus, come, "now; I
can't foller you fur as that. A man'i?
will's his will. The law say that, and
it won't let her be broke onlest they is
mighty plain good reason for it. The
law, they tell me, is very p'inted in
sech a case, which and it ought to be."
"That may bo so; but s'pose the old
man thought he done destroyed It
after making it, and s'pose he were
hendered from destroying it by some
body unbeknownst, which to my opin
ion that's so?"
"Ah, Gustus, but such as that
have to be prove pine-blank. It's a
troublesome case all round. Poor Cul
len! but it ain't a-hurtin' of him now.
Yet there's his wldder and orphin child
that it seem ruther hard on them. I
been a-hopln' they'd compermisc It,
which as for breakin' a will dry so, be
cause It don't read accord In' to what
people think they'd do if It was them
and tlielrn, I can't but be ag'in' seeh
as that. 1 got a will myself whiob
some mayn't like when I'm gone, and
the beginnin' of a example o' breakin'
wills out and out, 'thout up and down
good reason, I can't go to that extent
myself. Well, I'll swallow the balance
of my toddy and then go and see what
Arthur Dabney want with me."
Repairing to tho offlee and assigned
a chair he took from his pocket-a bis
cuit and said:
"Arthur—l call you Arthur because
yon was raised right there by me, and
you've never talked or done like you
feel like you got above your raisin'—"
"That's right, Mr. Flint. That's
what I prefer you to call me.''
"Jes' so: be it so, then. I were goin
to say that Gustus Rachels told mo you
wanted to see me, and so I've come;
and if you hain't a objection to it, I'll
eat a biscuit, because I've Jes now took
a toddy at Gustus' 'Big Injun,' as they
call it, aud she ain't goin' to do me tho
good benefits I'm a-countin' on from
her 'ithout I put a little somethin' on
top of her where she went, if you'll ex
cuse me."
"Certainly, Mr. Flint; make yourself
entirely at home. I thank you for
coming. I only want to chat with you
a little about old man Amerson's will.
An unfortunate piece of business,
wasn't it?"
"Very oufort'nate, and a onexpect
eder to me I don't ric'lect."
"I had heard that you were muoh
surprised and a good deal distressed
by it. Indeed, so far as I can hear,
everybody in Baldwin county is—ex
cept, of course, Wiley Amerson. who
thinks he lias everything in his sling,
as they say."
"His father before him were an am
bition kind of man about the glttin' o'
prop'ty and holdln' on to it. There's
where Wiley got It. Now his mother
were differ'nt, and Cullen he took arf
ter her. A fine boy, a oncominon fine
boy! It weren't rfght; that is, to my
opinion, which business it's none o'
mino; but to me it don't appear right;
but there it Is, you see, Arthur. Now,
that will you writ for me, one o' my
sons ain't a-goin' to like it when I'm
out o' tho way, but tho law, you know,
Is ag'in the —"
"That's all perfectly true, Mr. Flint.
Regarding your will, other people,
whether John thinks so or not, will
say it was right, and certainly there
can be no suspicion regarding It. This
case i« very different. In this there
has been great fraud somewhere, and
It is of utmost Importance to find out
what it was. I wanted to seo you and
ascertain what you might remcmbei
in your intercourse with I'earco Amer
son to show that he had not such pref
orence for Wiley over Cullen as that
will indicates."
Mr. Flint stooped carefully, picked
up a crumb, and, going to a window,
threw it out. Resuming his chair, h«
•aid, smiling:
"My old 'oman frekwent gives mo a
scold about drappin' crumbs about
but as to tlitit, I don't know as I know
anything except in' what everybody
know in our settlement. The old man
Amerson wero monst'ous fond o'
Cullen, seem like to me, till
he got married to Ilaruah En*
low. when seem like soon arter that he
got put out ag'inst him; but then, in
no long time, about a year or sech ■
matter, I thought he had got ricouclled
to him, and even a-includin' of Harnah.
I know he was monst'ous proud when
their baby come and they named it
arter him; that's what mako it all
'stonlsh me so. Why, sir, I've heard
him up till not two month before he
taken sick, of frekwent a-goin' o«
HlyiU \yhaj
wife she were to Cullen. and turnin'
out so fur better than he ben a-ex
pectin' from what some people had
told him about her."
"Did he say what this was, and from
whom he got it?"
"Well, I can't ric'lict egzact; but
soaieliow it were that he have heard
Harnah were a kind o' frolickr, frisky,
that didn't keer much fur —well, the
upshot were, she weren't too good, and
were danger of her fetchin' down the
family, after Wiley have lift it up. and
so on. which I told him I could of told
him all the time that Harnah were a
perfect jcweld of a girl myself, if her
parents was iu mnd'rate circltms'es.
As for where'd he got his Mees he had
at the offstart, why, I'll have to—\rell,
the people in the settlement says, and
my old 'oman among 'em. they all says
he never got 'em from nobody but Wile
Amerson hisself."
"No doubt about that, Mr. Flint.
Mr. Amerson did not tell you what was
In his will?"
"No, bless your soul, no; nor I never
ast him."
"Did he ever say in your hearing that
he had destroyed it, or that he meant
to do so?"
"No, not as I 'member. He were not
a man to talk about what he'd ben
a-doin' and were a-meanin' to do. and
I never ast him, it not bein' any o' my
business."
"I was not in court when the will
was proved. You were, I heard, and
testified to the old gentleman's entire
soundness of mind."
"Oh, yes; I were the only witness
there. Billy Lilly he was dead, you
know, and that rattlin' Owen Car
ruthers he were the t'other, and he
were laid up with one o' his rheumatiz
spells, that come on him sometimes by
his takin' no keer o' hisself. Pearce
Amerson's mind were as sound as it
ever were, certain and sure, and it kept
so long as I see him to talk with him,
if I'm any jedge."
"Yet he told Cullen, several times, a
montli before he died, and in the pres
ence of Cullen's wife, that he had no
will, and that Wiley had persuaded
him against it, saying as they were
only two, both of age, they could di
vide the estate between themselves."
"Is that so?" he asked, in much sol
emnity.
"It is."
"Well, then, tlier's obleeged to be
somethin' rotten some'res. Pearce
Amerson were a truth-tellin' man, albe,
like me, he were not a perfessor o' re
ligion. If he said them words, he be
lieved 'em."
"The difficulty, Mr. Flint, is in estab
lishing this. C'ullen is dead, and could
not testify if r.livo; neither can Ids
wife. The law, as I told you, will
stand to a will that is fairly made, but
the law never lends countenance to
/TTMHIII'inWHIiEI , , in, j ...
rifM MW
3ffPfiW I 7^l®
"DID SB SAT WHAT THIS WAS AND FROM
WHOM HE OOT IT?"
fraud of any kind. That It is in this
case deep, black and damning there
cannot be a doubt; and the people of
that settlement where Mrs. Amerson
was born and brought up ought to take
some pains to help in finding It out."
After somewhat of further conversa
tion Mr. Flint left the office. When
ready to start home he repaired again
to the "Big Indian."
"Gustus, you was right about what
Arthur Dabney wan't with me. It's
a mighty ticklish case, takes it
all around; ticklisher than I ever
thought. If Wile don't mind he'll get
into hot water before it's done with.
If I was him I'd couipermise,,and I'd do
It speedy."
"As soon as I heard it, Uncle Lishy,
I knew rascality was somewhere. As for
Hannah, and I'm not saying it because
she's my kin, but it's a perfect shame
how her character was handled by
Wile Amerson to begin with; but I did
think tho old man had got over it. And
he had. I know he had. Now I'll tell
you what I'm going to do, no business
of mine if it is. I'm going to make it
my business to find out all I can. Peo
ple is excited about this cussed con
cern, and I'm going to inquire among
all I como across what they know
that'll bo of any use to Hannah and her
child."
Faster than usual, Mr. Flint, as if to
keep up with Rachels, drank his toddy.
When he had finished, looking at tho
tumbler sorrowfully, and turning it
slanting as if to find if another drop
might not be within it, ho said:
"Right, my son, right. If I weren't
a old man, I'd do the same. And I
ain't that old I has to keep my mouth
sliet complete. (Justus—you—may—"
After uttering these words doubtfully,
ho continued with decision: "No. I
won't take any more, albo my mind
have got cgzited about this thing.
I've got a good ways to ride, and I
must take a level head along- with me."
Then, having obtained victory over
tho temptation, ho smiled with much
satisfaction and said:
"Gustus, you want to know how
como I not to be a drlnkin' man, that's
to say, a hard-drinkln' man, as every
body know IMshy Flint always is a per-
O (ipff j
"YOU WAST TO KNOW HOW COVE I NOT
TO lIE A DRIXKIN' MAN?"
son as try to be respectable, and keep
respectable in the handlin' o' speerits,
and mighty sildom, if he say it bis
self, ho let it get beyant him, that it
rather run in tho family from away
back to be apt to knock speerits too
heavy for their good? Well, I'll just
up and tell you. When I weren't no
more'u a boy, 1 found out, like the rest
o' the Flints, that the taste of sweet
ened dram was powerful sweet, not
only In my mouth, but in my throat,
and in my very jaws all tho way down;
and so when 1 got a man and knowed
I could git it whensoever I wanted it,
I rnado up my mind I'd nev»r take It
when 1 see I wanted it too bad. Of
course, 'lthout the colic or some 'nother
case o' sickness. Well, sir, the rule
have worked wonderful. It's a hard
mil ISfii
detenn' to keep a stiff upper lip he can
foller her. That's what I donestraight
forrards. Many time somethin' hap
pen and my jaws gits to a waterin' and
a solid achin' for a dram, then I clamp
'em together tight, and I says to 'em:
'No, jaws, you want it too serwigous,'
and so I let it go. It's the only safet
est way to them that has a nat'ral
strong likin' for the article. I'm not
a-denyin' that this very minute, sech is
the egzitement on my mind, that I
wants one nother. and that strenious;
but I'm too old to l>egin to break mv
rule at this time o' day in my life. Goa
bless you, Gnstus! You make 'em as
good as I ever want to taste; but far'
you well, Gustus."
He bestowed a kind look of farewell
upon the decanter, then, resolutely
closing his jaws, came out, went for
his horse, and rode away.
CHAPTER XV.
The most welcome of the few per
sons who visited at the house of Mrs.
Carruthers was Rachels. Yet he sel
dom went there except when Owen was
down with his rheumatic spells, that
had become more frequent lately be
cause he had l>een in possession of more
pocket money than was usual, and so
was in condition to resort to drinking
places other than the "Big Indian."
Suspecting where such supplies came
from, Rachels ruminated upon them.
His untiring kindness to the wayward
cripple, not counting those of other
kinds, had given rise to much gratitude
in the mother. HeV chief income was
from a two-thousand-dollar state bond
bearing eight per cent, interest. Her
black woman, Sally, besides home
work, did washing and other outside
Jobs, for which the neighbors paid
more than liberal prices. Then she
raised more vegetables and got from
the cow more milk than the family
needed, and the surplus was easily dis
posed of. The cottage was on the
street south of the Capitol square. It
had a ground floor, on which were
the kitchen and Sally's bedchamber.
Above this were two rooms, a small
parlor and another serving for both
eating and sleeping. To these one as
cended by steps leading from and
along the street, fronting on a narrow
portico, on which mother and son
sometimes sat of summer evenings.
From a corner of the rear room a flight
of winding stairs led up to the attic
where Owen slept. The place was
kept scrupulously neat, even the back
yard and the garden, wherein, besides
vegetables, were fruit-trees and grape
vines. Last of the few slaves once be
longing there, Sally was devoted to her
mistress and always ready to apologize
for Owen's shortcomings. Whenever
he was late returning home at night,
she persuaded his mother to bed,
and, comfortably nodding the while,
awaited him. On his return, she let
him in softly, had something hot in the
kitchen ready if he desired it, cautioned
him against disturbing the sleeper,
and, after he had been disposed of,
went to bed and slept like a baby.
Awakened at cock-crowing, she rose
with alacrity, mado her fire, and had
breakfast ready the minute it was
wanted.
When Owen's rheumatism was upon
him a couch in his mother's chamber
was laid, which he accepted with more
or less complaining during his confine
ment. Between mother and son had
grown at last an understanding that
prevented domestic strife. The latter's
irregularities were never commented
upon there, except between Mrs. Car
ruthcrs and Sally, whose excuses and
palliations were, undor Heaven, the
best consolation to'the mother.
"Mistress," Sally said, many, many
timert. "when Marse Owen come home,
er he are fotch home top-heavy by
Marse Gus Rachels, it ain't bercause he
des wanted to git so; it's bercause he's
'flicted and can't hep it, en dat ain' so
mighty of'n. Now, you know yourself
it ain', en you earn' deny it. It mos'ly
when he git money from dat Mis' Wile
Am'son; dat when it mos'ly air."
"Yes, and I wish the poor boy had
never seen him."
"Ah, well, my miss, de Lord'll per
wlde; do Scrlptur say dat."
One night, after Owen had been in
bed near a week, Rachels came in. A
visit from him always gratified the
widow and was flattering to Owen. He
demanded and got a fresh coverlet, and
so disposed himself as to appear a be
coming object of sympathy. The visit
or, well understanding his soft, feeble
words of greeting, after shaking hands
passed on to tho fireplace, where his
mother was sitting, took a chair and
chatted with her about several matters
in the town. In a little while he said:
".Missis (Jnrruthers, everybody seems
to have their opinion about the way
old man Amerson left his property,
and I thought I'd ask what you thought
of it."
"Why, Mr. Rachels, I do think It's
the very outrageousest and the mean
est will that I ever heard of anybody's
making, be they respectable or dlsre
spectable."
"But, ma!" cried Owen,as if impatient
at another of her oft-repeated ex
pressions in the matter, "you won't
consider that the law of the land lets
everybody do what they blame please
with their property when they've done
with it themselves."
"So I've heard you say often, my son,
and been told so by other people. But
I can't help from having my opinion
that it is a pity for a man to give
a'mighty nigh every bit of his property
to one child, and him not a-dcscrving
of it nigh as much as tho other that's
cut down to what in comparison is a
little scrap."
"You are perfectly right, Missis
Carruthers," said Rachels, turning' a
look of mild rebuke towards tho
couch. "Such as that is a pity, and
gen'ly it's founded on some sort of
devilment, some'ros; and it's another
pity that devilment can't always bo
found out. l'eople all over the county
is disgusted with such treatment of
Oullen Amerson, who was worth more
than a cow-pen of the sort of Wile,
and him now dead, but leaving a
widow and child—Owen," and bo
turned directly towards him, "you
ought to know something about that
will business. You was one of the
witnesses."
"Yes, Gus, I was. As for the old
man Amerson not being In his sound
senses, there weren't any sort of doubt
about that."
"Nobody denies that; but the ques
tion is how come he to make such a
will, and tho question is what he done
with it afterwards. Did you know
what was in it when you signed it?"
"That I didn't, no more than Billy
Lilly and old man Flint, not one
grain."
"I>ln't you tuever hear the old man
and Wiley talk an3'tliing about it?"
"Well now, Ous," removing the cov
erlet from off his breast, "there's such
a thing as that a man ought to be rath
er particular in the way a fellow talks
about anything that he wasn't expect
ed to talk at all."
"Owen, just right here, beforo just
me and your mother, you might as
well come down off that high horse,
which it's no occasion for you to bo
there at such a time and on such a
matter. You know I'm after no mean
ness Iu trying to git you to sov what
you oughtn't. You've got to tell some
timo in the court house what you
know. I can tell you as a friend, that
never tried to do you any harm in your
life, that your telling me what you
know won't hurt you. aud it may do
good when it's mighty plain some
good ought to be dono if it can l>e
done."
this Rachels," he 1
nSTo23£L3
with some scorn, vet showing that he
felt that he was with his superior, "I'm
on no high horse, and don't want to be.
You know I know .you're a friend to
me— and ma—the best we're got; and
I'm not afraid you want to get me into
difficulties. I know monst'ous little
about the thing anyway, and— '*
"What did the old man say to Wile
about making the will?"
"You interrupt a man that way,
when I was going on to say that I did
happen to hear the old man say, one
time, andgtiot but onetime, that if that
piece, Hannah Enlow, expected to get
any of las property, she'd find herself
disappointed. She might disgrace the
family, he said, but she'd get nothing
by it. He said them words, or some
like 'em, one day as he came in the
office room when I was busy writing,
from out the back room, where him
and Mr. Amerson had been talking to
gether for some time. I don't think he
saw me. If he did, he didn't notice,
but went on out. That was the day
before the will was signed. That's
every blessed thing I know about it.
When he coine in the office with Billy
Lilly and old man Flint, he just called
for that paper from Mr. Amerson, and
then signed it. and called on us to wit
ness it, and then him and the other
two, when the thing was over, they
got up and went straight out the
office."
"He left the will witl. Wile; 'i !n't
he? and you saw what was in u «.ter
wards, didn't you?"
"Yes. Of course I did. I had to do
with all Mr. Araerson's papers what
times I was with him, copying, and do
ing one thing and another."
"Copying?"
"Yes; he keeps copies of nearly every
business paper he's got; letters and all.
You don't know as particular a man as
Mr. Amerson is about his papers."
"Did you ever hear the old man say
anything about the will afterwards?"
"Yes; I'm a-telling this to you, Gus,
as I'd tell to not another soul, because
you want me to, and I know you're not
going to use it to hurt. It ain't much,
nphow. About a year afterwards the
old man come in the office. It was, if I
remember, about the time Cullen's
child was born, and he said he wanted
to get that will and burn it up, because
he had come to the conclusion that he
had been entirely mistaken when he
made it."
"Didn't say what about?"
"No—that is—well, he just said he
wanted it right away. Mr. Amerson
said it was at the house, which it was;
and he said that when his father coma
over that night, as he done nearly
every night, he'd hand it to him."
"Didn't say anything against de
stroying it?"
"Not one word. He was perfectly
calm and seemed unconcerned. That's
every single thing I ever knew about
the plagued thing. And I hope you'll
not put any more questions to me about
Mr. Amerson. You don't think It's
right for a man that's been a man's
clerk to be talking about his business
to other people, do you? Surely you
don't, Gus Rachels? You wouldn't
want to be treated so yourself by your
clerk."
"I wouldn't care one everlasting
cent how my clerk answered questions
put to him for good reasons by any
honest person, provided he answered
the truth and no lies."
"All men ain't like you, Gus."
"No, and I'm thankful to not be like
Wile Amerson. Hut there's one or
two more questions I'm going to put to
you, whether you'll want me or not,and
whether you answer them or not,
straight up and down. You'd better*
I tell you, for your own good, and I'lJ
call on your mother right here to say
if she don't think I'm right."
"Certainly I do," she answered, with
much earnestness. "Law me, OVen,
you do talk so strange to the man you
know is the very best and truest friencl
you've got in this whole world, or
your mother either. Why, Owen, your
poor father would trj' to rise out of his
grave if he was to know that in all
this miser'ble business you had done
anything you was ashamed for Mr.
Rachels to know."
fro BH COXTINCBD.]
An ibMat-Hlnded Man.
Among the personal anecdotes
of Peter Burrows, the celebrated bar
rister, nnd one of Ireland's
Is the following remarkable instanca
of absence of mind: A friend called
upon him one morning in his dressing
room and found him shaving with
face to the wall. He asked why
chose so strange an attitude. Tm
answer was, "To look in the glass."
"Why," said his friend, "There is nd
glass there!" "Bless me!" Burrows odJ
Bcrved, "I did not notice that before. 1 '
Ringing the bell, ho called his scrvan(j
and questioned ltlm respecting tha
looking glass. "Oh, sir," said the sen
vant, "the mistress had it removed
weeks ago."
Time Enough.
Lawyer—But, Mrs. Smith, It seems tq
me that you have absolutely no
for desiring a dlvorco. Yon tell ma
that in all the twenty years of your
married life your husband has treated
you • with unvarying kindness, an J
thatr-
Fair Client—No cause? How long da
you imagine it requires for one to
coine thoroughly tired of the naina
Smith? —Life.
l>ld Bbe Tell John About Itf
Old lady (to elderly brido on wedding
trip)— That young man who just wenl
Into the smoking compartment sccnuj
very fond of you, ma'am.
Elderly Bride —Ah, yes, John love*
me most dearly 1
Old Lady—lt does my old heart goexj
to see suoli affection these days. Is hQ
tho only son you've got, ma'am? —Tit*
.Bits
A Valuable Keaion.
"I have a reason for supporting tliis
franchise ordinance," said Alderman
Grabbit, briskly.
But he got no further.
"Haven't you cashed it in yot?" broke
in a rude, coarse person, who was giveQ
to mean insinuations. —Chicago Records
A Danger For •••en.
Maude —What ought I do when ono
of those horrid men I'vo been flirting
with tries to kiss me?
Nellie —Tell him to stop, of course.
Maudo (with alarm)— But suppose ha
should obey me?— Chicago Record.
Delaarte.
Teacher—now do you Indicate grief?
Pupil—By burying tho face In thG
hands.
Teacher —How bashfulness?
Pupil—By burying thfl hands in tha
face.—N. Y. World.
An ITupardonable OlTenee.
Friend—Aren't you really afraid of
that handsome rival of yours?
Smartehap—Not a bit.
"Ho is very rich."
"Yes."
"A great favorite with the ladies."
"I know it."
"Yet you have no fear?"
"No. He- guessed at her age once,
and got her only two years younger
than she Is."—N. Y. Weekly.
The Young Avenger.
He was a pretty little youngster,with
little fat legs that stuck out beneath
clean, stlff-starehed clothes.
"What are you going to do when you
grow up to be a man?" asked a visitor.
Tho little fellow's face assumed an
expression of enrncst gravity as he re
sponded with a volco which was cvi»
dantly ehakoti by pad memories of tha