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]•'. It. i-il,',:-!>, Editor. Volume Ytn -I' WOI ’K^SION A 1.. Sl" i- _ : .. ' DR. E A. J ELKS, Practicing P ll ys i c ian, OuiTivcArj, oa. Orvicn: Crick building adjoining store ui ifessrs. Briggs. Jelks >t Cos., Screven street. January 31, 1873. 5-tl JAMES Tl. n L ivT EH, Stlornnj Comistllor so, QUITMAN, CA. pSf Omen, in tub Conor Hoc'SK.-tE? March 17, 1871. \V. B. Ckxnkt T. KiX(;sm:::;.v BEN3VET & KINGSBEItV, ATTOKXEYS AT LAW, Qn man. Brooks County^eorgia. February 7, 1873 6 EI)WAR 1) K *IAK DEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, QUITMAN, GEORGIA, *E®„ Office, 111 the Court House, Second Door Hay. 26, 1872. W DENTISTRY. D«. D. ERICKS, Having recently ■ - . attended athor- J? ougk Course of I.ec- - tures and graduated ", j at the N— 1 ■ fjJSji Dental College, lisi y. . --v returned to Quitman, V %' and reoi'ened bis of- Thankful to friends '• ~ and patrons for past favors, he will bo pleased to serve them in future. Good work and mod erate charges. March H, 1873. 11-Km 1 Du J. s. nTsnow, p E NTIST, QUITMAN t GEORGIA. RK.STEOTKI.WXY solicits the . ”"i, : patronage of the Citizens ol Brooks county, uud will Til u by faithfully executing all work entrusted to him. to merit their confidence. Charges moderate, and work guaranteed. ■teS.Office, up stairs, over J. Tillm r.’ - store. , March 21, 1873. f - D Miscellaneous. QUITMAN DB!L< STORE. McCALL&eOOVEI, Dbalbbs in Iji’ms, M Aim's Xa :: Puititn* Oils, VARNISHES /,'■/" Stuffs BRUSHES Bn finin'’ ' T*y. ’hair!. i r!<‘-h . Notify the public tliat l»ey will U“’l> on ; c;,.. ccrapiete au<l is reasonable profit. This iM Excoi^ively a Drujr ore. and : ! '.-en f&ye attention 'of tin- junior member ol the fin* be given to tin* b uie We reaped!ally solicit the patronage o! i '.e public. Quitman. Feb.‘J 1873. 1y DK. M. C WILKINSON. I*" '* D.SM iU. LARGE CitiiS SIGN. WILKINSON a Slim, KELP on hand a Complete ritock of Fresh and Pure - ■ , ; - - DRUGS V AMI >«'* vjfe. " , '. ‘ J MEDICINES'- ' And many of the best Also, White Lead. Varnishes, Paints and Oils, Soaps, Tobacco, Segars, Toilet Articles, Ac. All of which will be sold on reasonable terms. Prescriptions carefully compounded. Quitman, Ga., Jan. 31, 1x73. h-ly SAW & GRIST MILL, 31 Miles from Quitman. BOZEMAN & LEWIS. TAKE pleasure in notifying the public that they hate still in operation a first-class Saw and Grist Mill, in a tine lumber section of Brooks comity, and only 3i inies (rom Quitman, en the Tallokas public road, and are prepared to furnish every kind and quality of Lumber, at short notice, but exclusively for cash. We will grind only on Wedxesiiay and Snt cbdav of each week, and we guarantee good meal. , , The following are our pr.ces for Lumber : For General quality of Lumber, cu.=h on de livery, $12.50 per 1000 feet. When payment Is delayed exceeding 30 days, the bills will be immediately sued without fur ther notice’to parties. For speoial bills, where all heart is required, the price will be $15.00 per 1000 feet, f ash. These prices will be strictly adhered to. We solicit the patronage of the public, and will endeavor to give satisfaction. „ February 11, 1873. > -3m Dress Goods. THE Ladies are particularly, requested to ex amine my stock of beautiful Dross Goods, Notions, etc., v, hich are offered cheap for cash. 16 t , ' Nathan gazax. ' CHAPPELL’S ‘Champion’ SUPERPHOSPHATE. A FIRST CLASS FERTILIZER. Over Four A: thousand Tons sold in Georgia, and not a single ton repudiated : giving universal satis faction, and analyz'm*. according to State Chem ist, 'higher than any brand in tUe market. Try it. For sale by I s AINE & HALL, fcb. 7,1572. 6 tl Quitman, Ga. r iiitniaii. i). w. P2:h'm, MERCHANT TAILOR Q UITMAN, GEORGIA “TYTOULD inform W jr: v). v . Quitman and sar- VIv rjvJwiSL ro umi ng country, f. /;' '}\f . ■*, ‘ \ that he has just ud* gfk } cued a FIRST Ct..tss ■,/ Merchant T A I LOU i N(., in Qnituum, and has on baud a lino lot of Cloths and Cassimeres, suitable for making Dross and Business suits. He has also on hand, a Select stock of READY MADE CLOTHING. rVailing and Repairing done on short notice. 1 Vices model ate. April 10. 1873. 15 1 y Crroceries l I)ERSON in need of Family Croceriex. Bacon, Flo tr, Collet 4 , Sugars. Teas, eic. will do well to call at my store before purchasing else where. NATHAN GAZAN. Quitman. Ga., April 17. 1873. 10 LOOK HERE! Good Calico at 12’ Cents. Jacob Baum, DEALER IN Dry Goods,, Notions, Hard ware, Crockery, &c„ Cpiilmuu Ovonria. f SCARFS pleasure, in notifying his friends and JL. the public generally that he Ims received SPRING IM SUMMER 'STOCK toir 187:5, which will be sold on fair and honorable terms. These goods were purchased on very favorable terms, and i am confident cun and will be sold as cheap us any house in town. My stock embraces almost everything kept in a retail star© in theißieiior- - Dry Goods, Dress Goods, AV■.-,/// Modr < U lhinjt rij. Rats, (tc. &c. The Ladies are specially iovited in pay me a visit, as 1 have many thin - that, will meet favor in their eves. Bnrchasers are also specially invil ed to give me a rail, ns 1 .on determined to sell Thunkfiil for p o t favors a continuance of cus tom is solicited J A COB BALM. March 21, 1573. Iv DomeEt c G-oods! rjIHF bes; flock of Do no- tic flood-. Boots, .Jt. Fhoes. Hals, Me .in th town of Quitman, can be found at the store of N A J MAN GAZAN, yip,:! 17. 1873. Hi HE: L kb ! 3 -Lo M r-Y. :L l NDL .GNI-B.* ill I-.C ■ con-tantly at the store of M. (TO?. - . V. '.DC, BOLTED NEAL AND HOMINY, which will be wold very reGsonaoly for < a.*b, it C Nlc NAOMI Qujfman. April, 2-L 1>73 JVtf The only Reliable Gift Distribution in the country $60,000 00 In Valuable Gifts! TO HE mSTTtIIJCTED IN I, a, sxari’s 101st Regular Monthly GIFT EUTEBPRISE, To be drawn Monday, .]un<' 2d, 1873. Two Grand Capital Prizes of so,ooo each in Greenbacks,! Two prizes of 31,000, Five prizes of 8500, and Ten prizes of SIOO each hi Green backs. One Horse and Bnggf', with silver mounted Harness, worth S6OO. One fine toned Rosewood Piano, worth $500; Ten Family Mewing -Ma chines. worth SIOO each. Five Gold Watches and '.J ha ins, worth $309 each! Five Gold Amer ican Hunting Watches, worth $125 each. Ten Ladies’ Gold Hunting Watches worth $75 each. 800 Gold and Silv'er Lever Hunting Watches (i all) worth from S2O to S3OO each. Gold Chains, Silver-ware, Jewelry, etc. Whole number of G fta, C 500. Tickets limit ed to 60,000. Sit-A gents wanted to sell tickets, to whom Liberal Premiums will be paid. Single Tickets $1 ; Six tickets. $5 : Twelve tickets. $10; Twenty-five tickets, S2O. Circulais eontamin‘s a full list of prizes, a des cription ol ihe manner of drawing, and other in formation in reference to Hip Distribution, will be sent to any one ordering them. -.411 letters mnst be addressed to Mux Office. L. D SINE. Box 86, 101 W. Fifth St. (<5-si) Cinriimuti, O ilEßju SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY FEAR AND UNBRIEED BY GAIN • QUITMAN, GA., THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1873. poetical WHEN YOU J RE DOWN. What legion of “friends'’always bless ns When golden success lights your way ! llow the\ smile as they softly address us So cordial, good-humored and gay ! But oh! when the sun of prosperity Hath set. then how quickly they frown, And cry out, iu tones of severity, Kick the man! don’t you see he Is down ! What though when you knew not a sorrow, Your heart was open as day, And your friends when they wanted to borrow, \ ou*d oblige—and ne’er ask them to pay ? What though not a soul you e’er slighted, A '-/on meandered about through the town? Your triemls become very near-sighted, And don’t seem to see you when down ! When you’re up yon are loudly exalted, And traders all sing out your praise; When you’re down you have greatly defaulted, And they really ‘-don't fancy your ways.” Your style was ‘Tip top” when you’d money, Sc sings every sucker and clown; But now, ’tis exceedingly funny, Things are altered, because you’re down! Oh. give me the heart that forever Is tiee from the world's selfish rust, And the soul whoso high, noble endeavor Is to raise fallen men from the dust; And when, in adversity’s ocean, A victim is likely to drown. All hail to the fnend whose devotion Will lift up a man when lie’s down. MY MIDNIGHT PERIL. Tlip of tlie seventeenth of Octo ber —shall I ever forget its pitchy dark ness, the roar of the autumnal wind through the lonely forest, and the inces sant downpour of the rain? “This comes of short cuts,” I muttered petulantly to myself, as I plodded along, keeping close to the trunks of the trees to avoid the deep ravine, through which 1 could hear tlm roar of the turbulent stream forty or fifty feet, below. My blood ran cold, as I thought what might be the possible consequence of a ink ..F p or move in the wrong direc tion. Why had J not, been contented to keep in the right road? Hold on! Was that, alight, or are my eyes playing me false? I stopped, holding on to the low resi nous boughs of a hemlock that grew on the edge of the bank; for it actually s'-emed as if the wind wound seize me bodily and hurl me down the precipitous descent. It vets a, light thank Providence—it was a light, and no ignis fatuus to lure me on to destruction and death. “Ilalloo-o-o !” My -voice rang through the woods lito il clarion. J plunged onward through tangled vines, dense briers and rocky banks, until, gradually nearing, I could perceive a figure wrapped in an oil-cloth capo, or cloak, carrying a lantern. As the dam light fell upon his face, 1 almost, recoiled. Would not solitude in tlm ‘ woods bo preferable to the companion-j ship this withered, wrinkled old man? Put it was too late to recede now. “What’s wanting?” lie snarled, with a peculiar motion of the lips that seemed to lea.ro it’s yellow teeth all bare. “I am lost in the woods; can you direct me to B—- - Station?” “Yes; V. - Station is twelve miles from here.” “Twelve miles'.” I stood aghast. “Yes.” “Can you tell me of any shelter I could obtain for the night?” “No.” “Where are you going?” “To Drew’s, down by tho maple swamp.” “Is it a tavern?” “Would they take me for the night ? j I could pay them well.” “His eyes gleamed; the yellow stumps! stood revealed once more. “I guess so; folks do stop there.” “Is it far from here?” “Not very, about half a mile-.” “Then let us make haste and reach it. ! I am drenched to the skin.” Wo plodded on, my companion more I than keeping pace with me. Presently we left the edge of the ravine, entering | what seemed like trackless woods, and ' keeping straight on until the light gleam-1 ed fitfully through the wet foliage. It was a ruinous old place, with the windows all drawn to one side, as if the j foundation had settled, and the pillars of a rude porch nearly rotted away. A woman answered my fellow-travel- : er’s knock. My companion whispered a j word or two to her, and she turned to ] me with smooth, voluble words of wel-! come. She regretted the poverty of their ac commodations; but I was welcome to them, such as they were. “Where is Isaac?” demanded my | guide. ( “He has not come in jet/* * I sat down on a wooden bench beside tho fire, and eat a few mouthsful of bread. “1 should like to retire as soon as pos sible,” for my weariness was excessive. “Certainly.” The woman started up with alacrity. “Where are you going to put him ?” asked my guide. “Up chamber.” “Put him in Isaac’s room.” “No.” “It’s the most 'comfortable.” “I tell you no !” But hero I interrupted the whispered colloquy. ' 4 “l am not particular —I don’t care where you lodge mo, only make haste.” So I was conducted up a steep ladder that stood in a corner of the room, into an apartment ceiled with sloping beams and ventilated by one thnall window, where a cot bedstead, crowded close against the hoard partition, and a pine table, with two or three chairs, formed the sole attempts at furniture. The woman sat'the light- an oil lamp on the tabic. “Anything more I can ’.get you, sir?” “Nothing, thank you.” “I hope you will sleep well, sir. When shall I call you?” “At four o’clock in the morning, if you please. I must walk over to R Station in time for the 7 o’clock express.” “I’ll be sure to call you, sir.” She withdrew, leaving mo alone in the gloomy little apartment. I sat down and looked around me with no very agreeal do sensation. “I will sit down and write to Alice,” I thought,. “That will soothe my nerves und quiet me, perhaps.” “I descended tho ladder. The fire still glowed redly on the heal th beneath; my companion and the woman sat, beside it,, talking in a low tone, and a third per son sat at the table, eating —a short,, stout, villainous-looking man, in a red flannel shirt and muddy trowsors. I asked for writing materials, and re turned to my room to write to my wile. “My darling Alice.”. I paused and laid down my pen as I concluded the words, half smiling to think what she would say could she know of my strange quarters. Not. until both sheets were covered did I lay aside my pen and prepare for slum-' her. As 1 folded my paper, I happened to glance towards the couch. Was it the beam of a human eye ob serving me through the board partition? There was a crack there, but only black and arkness beyond; yet 1 couhl have sworn that something had sparkled bah fully at me. 1 tool: out my watch--it was one o’clock. It was scarcely worth while fori me to undress for three hours’ sleep. I would lie down in my clothes and snatch what, slumber 1 could. So, placing my valise close to the, head of my bed, and barricading the loclsless door with two chairs; I extinguished the light and lay down. At first I was very wakeful, but grad ually a soft drowsiness seemed to steal over me like a misty mantle, until, all of a sudden, some startling electric thrill coursed through my veins, and I sat up, excited and trembling. A luminous softness seemed to glow through tho room—no light of the moon or stars was ever so penetrating —and by the little window I saw Alice, my wife, dressed in floating garments of white, with her long, golden hair knotted back by a blue ribbon, apparently she was beckoning to me with onst.retched hands, and eyes full of wild, anxious teti derm ss. I sprang to my feet, and rushed toward her, but, a:; I reached the window. Un fair apparition seemed to vanish into the stormy darkness, and I was left alone.] At the self-same instant the sharp report, of a pistol sounded —I could see the jag ged stream of fire above tho pillow— straight through the very spot where ten qiinutes since my head had lain. With an Instantaneous realization of my danger, I swung myself over the edge of the window, jumpitS? some eight or ten feet into tangled hushes below, and as I crouched there, recovering my breath, I heard the tramp of footsteps into my room. “Is he dead ?” cried a voice up the lad der, -the smooth, deceitful voice of tho woman with the half-closed eyes. “Os course ho is,” growled a voice j back; “that charge would have killed ton ! men. A light, there, quick, and tell Tom to be ready.” A cold, agonized shudder ran through me. What a den of midnight murderers ; had I fallen into? And how fearfully i narrow had been my escape. With the speed that only mortal tor- 1 ror and deadly peril can give, I rushed through the woods, now illuminated by a faint, glimmer of starlight. I know not what impulse guided my footsteps— I never shall know how many times I crossed my own track or how close 1 stood to the brink of the deadly ravine : but a merciful Providence encompassed me with a guiding and protecting care, for when morning dawned, with faint rod bars of orient light against tho eastern sl*v, I was close to the high road, some seven miles from R-— ; . Once at the town, I told my story to the police, and a detatchmont xvas sent with me to the spot. After much searching and many falso alarms, we succeeded in finding the ru inous old house; but it was empty—our birds hail flown : nor did I recover my valise and gold watch and chain, which latter I left under nty pillow. “It’s Drew’s gang,” said the leader of the police, “and they’ve troubled us these two years. I don’t, think, though, they’ll come hack here just tit present.” Nor did they. But the strangest part of my story is yet to come. Some three weeks subse quently I received a letter from my sis ter, who was with Alice in her English home a letter whoso intelligence filled me with surprise: “I must, tell 3 r ou something very, very strange,” wflbte my sister, “that happen ed on the night, of the 17th of October. Alice had not been well for sonic time; in fact, she had been confined to her bed nearly a week, and I was sitting beside her, reading. It was lati—the clock had just struck one —when all of a sudden she seemed to faint away, growing white and rigid as a corpse. I hastened to call assistance, but, all our cfforls to restore animation were in vain. I was just about sending for the doctor, when her senses returned as suddenly as they had left her, and she sal up in bed, pushing hack her hair and looking around her. “Alice I” I exclaimed, “how you have terrified u-< all. Are you ill ? “Not ill,” she answered, “hut I feel so strange. Gracio, I hax r o been with my husband I” And all our reasoning failed to con vince hereof the impossibility of her as sertions. She persists to this moment ■that, she saw you and was with you on the 17th of October—or rather on the morning of the 18th. Where and how, she cannot tell, but we think it must have been some dream. She is better now, and I wish you could see how fast she is improving.” This is my plain, unvarnished talc. I do not pretend to explain or account for its mysteries. I simply relate facts. U 1 psychologists unravel the labyrinlhal skein. lam not sujterstitious, neither dn J believe in ghosts, wraiths or appa ritions; but this thing I do know -that although my wife was in England in body, on tho morning of tho 18th of Oc tober, her spirit surely stood before ine in New York in the moment of the, dead ly peril that menaced me. It may he that to the subtle instjnet and strength of a wife’s holy love, all things are pos sible; but Alice surely saved my life. A i!j»S WqWinns for litmltrtinU:?. The Griffin News, alluding to tho fact the Bankrupt Court in that city is full of cases under the operations of the re cent decision of the. United States Su preme Court, thus and. fines the status of the bankrupt after lie files his appli cation for bankruptcy: Ist. The Bankrupt is allowed the same exemption provided by the State laws, to wit: real estate to the value of 82,000, and personal effects to SI,OOO, on a specie valuation. This is the con struction put upon the law by till the Registers in Bankruptcy whose opinions we have h ard of, but lawyers, like doc tor:;, will di; agree, and some of them hold that tlm allowing of this exemption is a question at leaded with considerable doubt. 2d. Under tho Bankrupt act itself, an exemption of £SOO is. allowed in house hold and kitchen furniture, and other necessary articles. 3d. He is allowed to sell enough of his effects to raise attorney’s fees and offi cers costs. dth. If the assignee gets hold of as sets epual to fifty cents on the dollar of his indebtedness, contracted since the first of January, 18(19, which are proven in court against him, gets a full and final discharge, hut if they arc not, the exemp tions are set apart and judgment for such balance as he may lack of having this fifiy per cent, will stand open against him, unless his creditors consent in writ ing that he may be discharged. I.’ - ling matter on every pa:;' Xfli: AVVFL IJ, BAPTISM. INTERESTING DETAILS OF THE DIXON DIS ASTER. Dixon 111., Mat 4. A terrible accident, involving a fearful loss of life, occurred here this afternoon. The rito of Baptism was in course of ad ministration to a number of recent con verts to one of the. Baptist, churches here, at a point on Rock River, just before the Truesdoll iron bridge. About two hun dred persons, including many ladies and a number of children, liad gatherod on the bridge to wit ness the ceremony. Sud denly, without warning, the bridge gave way and precipitated its living freight in to the stream below. The scene which ensued was .INDESCRIBABLY TERRIBLE as the struggling victims vainly endeav ored to free themselves from the ruins of the bridge and from each other; the largo crowds of people on the banks mailed wildly to and fro, many of them so dis tracted with terror as to be unable to render any assistance. Others, more self-possessed, speedily brought ropes, planks and boats, and went nobly to work to rescue the living and recover tho dead. Some of those who were on the bridge, when it foil were so near tho ends that they were unable to reach the bank without assisance; while others were fortunately within roach of those on shore. But up to op. in. THIRTY-TWO DEAD BODIES had been taken from the river, and it is almost certain that there are others still under the wreck of (.he bridge. Twenty four, rescued alive, were more or less in jured, some fatally. Dixon, 111., Midnight. Up to this hour no other bodies of tho victims of tho bridge disaster have been recovered at this point; but several arc reported to have been picked up at Ster ling, six miles below, and doubtless the swift current has borno others even far ther down the river. The general esti mate of the number lost is from ninety to one hundred. As stated in previous dispatches, thirty two-bodies were recov ered from tho wreck before dark. Rive other Bodies floated down past those en gaged at wreck, and have not yet been recovered. There are, therefore, suppos ed to bo at least FIFTY BODIES STILL UNFOUND. Most of them, it is thought, are uuder the wreck of the bridge. The bridge was of iron, of the Rusdell pattern, and had five spans elevated about twenty feet above the water, which at this point is from I fifteen to twenty feet deep. Only two | spans, the end spans, fell. Tho three I middle spans are still standing, but in | sucli condition that it is thought they I will fall when the wreck of tho end span jis cleared away. Workmen are busy to | night putting in place derricks with which to raise the fallen spans, an l mak i ing arrangements to s.euro the bodies ! beneath. It is now stated that there I were NEARLY THREE HUNDRED I'EOPLE ! on the bridge at the time of tfm accident, I and more succeeded in escaping than j was at first feared. At, the time of the j accident tho most of the people were I gathered at either end of the structure, though a large number were near the centre. Some of the latter remained | where they wore when the crash came, j and were afterward taken off by boats, i Several of the men jumped from their ! precarious resting place into tho river j ! (mil swam to the shore. Two horses and j ! buggies were standing on the middle j spans and are still there, there being no | | way of taking them off. There were a j ! number of REMARKABLE ESCAPEE OF CHILDREN, | of whom there were probably not less than fifty on tho bridge when it wen! down. One little fellow, about thirteen : vears old, was cau /lit by both feet in the J I iron rigging of one oi the falling spans, j and had one of his legs broken. He I managed by sheer strength to pull one j of his Loots off, tearing tho sole off in S the process. Then coolly taking out his knife, he ripped the other boot from the ! foot of the wounded leg, and crippled as |he was, swam ashore. Two little girls, sisters; were standing side by side, and went down together. As tii.y reached the water the eldest caught the other by her dress with one hand, and with the other clung to a portion of the iron work and hung fast to it up to her neck in icy water, until they wore both taken oft' by boat. There is so much EXCITEMENT AMD CONFUSION . that it is impossible to-night to procure ; more definite information in regard to the number lost, but the estimate givin ' above is believed to be nearly correct. I No attempt will be made to recover any j i more bodies until, morn ng and the corn- ; 1 i-ktion of derri Is and other apparatus. 1 [52.00 per Annntrt NUMBER 20 A Merchant’ll Uaiuimer Becomes Kiiiminicit ufa Negro. In tho most fashionable portion of West Philadelphia, says the Philadelphia Telegraph, in an elegant mansion thero dwells a merchant of good standing, re spected by all with whom he comes in contact, and honored by every member of his trade. A man, who, loving hia family better than life itself, has given to hia loved ones a heart glowing with affection, and surrounded by all that the heart can desire, and yet this out.poring of a noble heart's affection lias not met with the united gratitude which certainly is its due, and which our Creator has made instints first law. Our merchant friend has reared to his utter dispair a beautiful daughter, who, we are grieved to say is on the road to a life of sin. In early years the girl was taught the first lessons of a Christian life. Under the watchful care of a happy father, with the aid of a mother’s loving heart, and to her was tendered all the luxuries of life, her friends making her every wish a study, for whieli she was thoroughly grateful until within tho last year or so, during which time she has been a source of great torture to her parents. Being now at the happy age of ‘seven teen she is a girl who could engage the affections of all wdio met her; and render her home a paradise instead of the cheer less waste she has at last made it. For sonic time back the merchant’s family has had engaged as washerwo man, a colored girl, who lived not far from the young lady who is the subject of this sketch. The "daughter, from somo unknown cause, paid a visit to the homo of the domestic, and there met a brother of the girl—a coarse negro of robust form— THE CAUSE OF ALL THE MISERY, .Who was married and living with his wife. Strange to say an intimacy sprung up between the young woman and this man; which soon ripened into an affection which We cannot term love. The girl listened to the ensnaring voice other ad mirer, and when a proposition of an elopement, was broached by him she ac cepted without a murmur. , The time and place of meeting was fixed, and the young lady returned to her home to make he" preparations for de parture, knowing the infamous course she was pursuing, though not without a slight feeling of shame. At the ap pointed time the two met, and repaired at mice to (hi side of the river, the girl utterly regardless of the anxiety her a' - seneo would cause her parents, and the treacherous negro repudiating the claims of the wife to his fidelity as a husband. As soon as the disappearance of tho young lady and In r lover was learned by the parents their agony was great, and tho police were at once informed of tho affair, and a search was begun for the wayward girl. After days of deep anxi ety and torture experienced by the father and mother, through which they passed sleepless nights, Sergeant Ryan of thq police force found the guilty pair in a house in Bay street, in the lower section of the city, revelling in their sin and shame. They-were taken to the fifth district station house, where the mer chant, sick at heart, once more set eyes upon his daughter. He read her a severe but deserving lesson, to which she paid no heed, but declared her intention of remaining true to her protestations of love for the de graded being who had brought grief to the home of happmess. Not knowing what other course to pursue, the unhappy father requested that she he sent to the House of Refuge, and the girl was re moved to that institution. Her colored paramour was held to bail in a heavy surn for his appearance at court. "W e refrain from mentioning any names in connection with this affair, be came of the great reputation the mer chant and his family bear in this eoniwu nify. A f.d'fo: ma law court is asked to de <•'<l: a ijiii st.ion of inheritence in a fami ly will li got itself mixedup in the fol lowing lmuiui r, as related by a local cbioniele: Tile father separated from his wife several years ago and went to Kansas. The wife followed her husband and settled near him. The son of this couple parted from his wife, who married again, her husband being her step-moth er’s brother. Her husband died, howev er, and she was subsequently married to her first husband’s father. As the mat ter stands now, the old gentleman is step father to li's grand sou; the son’s former wife is his stt p-mother, and his own son is his step-brother, and the father’s wife is his danghUr-.n-lxir.