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About The Oregon statesman. (Salem, Or.) 1884-1892 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 7, 1887)
Til; OliEGCiX Efl ATESMAK - l'llIDAY. JAlIUAlV 7. 1C37. THE OAUXO TUB. Tn midnight holy boar, and silence now If brooding, lik a gentle spirit, o'er The still an4 pulseless woTkL Hsrk! on the winds Tie bell deep tone are i welling tis the knell -Of the departed year. No funeral train la sweeping; pat; yet, on the stream and wood, TVKh melancholy light, the moonbeam rest Like a pale, spotfees shroud; the air U itirrred M by a moorner'i tigh; and on yon cloud. That float o ttill and placidly through heaves. The spirit of the seasons seeem to stand. Young Spring, brifht Summer, Autumn's solemn torm. And "Winter with hi aged locks, and breathe. In mournful radices, that come abroad like the far wind-harp's wild and touching wail, , m A melancholy dirge o'er the dead year, Gone from the earth forever. TU a time Tor memory and for tear. Within the deep, Ktill chambers of the h-rt, a specter dim. Whose tones are like the wizard voice of time. Heard from the tomb of sge, points its cold And solemn finger to the beautiful And holy visions that have passed away, And left no shadow of their loveliness On the dead watet of life. That ipecter lifts The coffin-lid of Hope and Joy and Love, And, bending mournfully above the pale. Sweet form, that slumber there, scatters dead Sowers O'er what has passel to nothingness. The year many a glorious lias gone, and nth it throng Of hDtv dream. IU mark is on each brow. Its shadows in each heart. In iU swift course It waved its scepter o'er the beautiful And they are not. It laid its pallid hand Upon the strong man and the haughty form Is fallen, and the flashing eye is dim. It trod the hall of revelry, where throntred The bright and joyous and the tearful wail ( )f stricken ones is heard, where erst the song And reckless shout resounded. It iaed o'er The battle-nlain, where sword and srx-ar and shield Flashed in the light of mid-day and the strength Ofserrit! hot is shivered, and the gra Orcen from the soil of carnage, waves above The crushed and moldering skeleton. It came. And Aided like a wreath of mist at eve; Yet, ere it melted in the viewless air, It heralded iU millions to their 1-orne In the dirn land of dreams. l'emorsele Time! Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe! what power Can stay him in hi silent course, or melt His iron heart to pity? On, still on He presses, and forever. The proud bird, The condor of the Andes, that can soar Tli rough heavens unfathomable depths, or brave The fury of the northern hurricane. And bathe his plumage in the thunder's home, Furfg his broad wings at nightfall, and sinks down To rest upon his mountain crag; but Time Knows not the weight of sleep or weariness. And night's deep darkness, has no chain to bind His ru.hing pinnions. Revolutions sweep O'er earth, like troubled visions o er the breast Of dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink. Like bubbles on the water; fiery isles Spring blazing from the ocean, and go back ! their myteriiu caverns; mountains rear To heaven their l-nM and blackened cliffs, and bow Their tail heads to the plain; new empires rise, (Withering the strength of hoary centuries. And rush down like the Alpine avalanche. Startling the nations, and the very stars. Yon bright and burning blazonry of Ood, (flitter awhile in their eternal depths. And, like the 1'leiad, loveliest of their train, Shoot from their glorious spheres, and pass r away, To darkle in the trackless void; yet Time Time, the tomb-builder, holds his fierce career. Park, stern, all-pitiless, and pauses not Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his path. To sit and mue like other conquerers. Upon the fearful ruin he has wrought. iio. DFbemtkc. tV YKAlt AND OLU TEAK. e Year, if you were bringing Youth, As you are bringing Age, I would nut have it lack, in sooth; I have no strength to wag Lost battles over. lt them be. Bury your dead, O Memory! Good bye, since you are gone, old Year, Anil my past life, good bye! I shed no tear upon vour bier. For it is well to die. New Year, your worst will be my best What can an old manwant but rest. R H. Stoddarp. A Night Of Horror. Written for the Dally Btatesmss: There fell to me a night in my travels once, when necessity comielled me to ac cept as a stopping place, one of those mod ern abominations known as a railroad hotel a sort of mongrel affair with ticket offices and baggage rooms below, and sleeping apartments above, with side tracks, and coal yards, and freight depot all round. I bad thought on retiring that ringing bells, and bcreaming whistles, and ram bling car wheels would allow little rest to a nervous person. Little did I know of the real horrors that awaited me. For a time the bells kept np their jin gling, bat towards midnight, these sounds ceased, and I fell into a slumber. How long this sleep was undisturbed, I know Dot; bat I at last became semi-conscious under the influence of a series of sounds that were different from anything I had ever heard. They did not seem to be loud sounds, but there was a dull monot onous harshness about them a penetra ting power a sort of rythmic rising and falling, as of wares on a surf beaten shore. that seemed different from any thing I had ever heard. I suppose it was all dreaming, but I bad a distinct impression of passing through a series of very trying perils. First of all I was surrounded by a herd of fierce and angry bulls. They pawed the dust, and lowered their heads, and rent the air with ominous bellowing. At last one of the fiercest glared at me with his fierce rolling eyes, and made a rush. In a most miraculous way, I escaped gor ing, by awakening from my dream, and sitting upright is bed. - AH seemed quiet for a moment, and thinking it was some loousb fancy. I dropped asleep again. Xio coner was I in dreamland than a new horror was upon me. I was lying in a state of perfect helplessness on a railway track. An express train in full speed was coming down the grade. It, was a mile away, bat I could distinctly hear the dull rumble of the wheels as my ear lay close to the track. Nearer and nearer it came: but I could neither about nor more. At last with clanging belL and flying drive wheels, and screaming whistle, the engine came in sight round the curve, bpiteftu ly and in rapid succession the escape pipes yielded their burdens to the night air; fiercely the nearing headlight shot its red beams forward, and two hundred rolling wheels telegraphed to my pained ears their iron threats. But just as the red glare of the headlight fell upon me, when only one instant was between me and those crashing wheels, another miracle saved me. By a sudden effort, I shook off the paralysis that held lac, and with a madman's scream, leaped to my feet In an instant that long train stood motion less, shrunk back as if in fright, and van ished f Track and train, and screaming locomotive all were gone, and I was lying on the floor of my room in a tangle of pillows and quilts. Readjusting the disordered bed furni ture and myself with it as best I could in the darkness, I was soon dozing again. Immediately I was confronted by a new horror. A fiend with a fiddle was before me, and again I was powerless. I have run away from many such fiends in my time, but this one seemed to realize that I was in his power, and danced about me with fiendish delight, never letting his bow- rest for a moment, wringing from that poor fiddle such an eternal cater wauling, such a long and mingled string of sobs and wails and howls and groans, as would have unstrung the nerves of a granite sphinx. It seemed an age that thin torment was endured, and so intolerable did it become, that I longed for some bull of Bashan to toss me on his playful horn, or some thundering train to roll over my tortured frame, its mollifying wheels. At last a good angel came to my relief. It was the night watchman of the hotel, rapping on the door of a neighboring room to awake some fellow traveler for an early train. At the sound of those rattling knuckles, my fiendish tormentor vanished in the darkness, and his infernal discords died away like a wail of despair.' I had been reading Dante's Inferno on the train that day; so in my next dream, I was falling from infinite hights into the black Tartarean abyss, where ten thous and fiends,' with red-hot pitchforks held aloft waited to impale me. The air seemed to sing a sad requiem about my ears, as I fell down, down, with the speed of light, and the hissing of the throng be low filled me with ten thousand nameless Eangs. One instant more, and those red ot thirsty prongs would have received me. But in that one instant relief came to me. My ears were suddenly greeted by a long sharp sound that seemed some how familiar to me and in less than a mo ment, that Tartarean throng were turned into smoke, and driven away as before the march of a tornado. The sound I had heard was the scream of a locomotive in the car yard below. I now resolved to forego sleep, deem ing the risk too great and being fully awake, I listened to the sounds that had been causing my trouble. They evident ly proceeded from the next room, and for two mortal hours, I tried to make out what kind of an animal was there impris oned. The sounds were indescribable. It was neither howling, nor growling, nor squealing, nor barking. A dog fight in the street, or a hundred swine calling lor footLor a cat concert on a back sited would have been musical beside the monoto nous measures that came to me through the thin partition that separated that room from mine. I thought to escape at last by burying my ears in the pillows, and pulling the quilts over my head. That failing, I put my fingers in my ears. But down under quilts and pillows, and finger ends, those harrowing sounds dug their way to my auditory nerve, and would not give me rest Only when daylight came did I get relief. Then activity began in the car yard tlow. 1 be clang of bells, the screams of whistles, the jamming together of freight cam, and the receding rumble of the long trains as they pulled out beneath my window, bad a soothing ef fect upon my nerves. Soon I fell asleep as quietly as an infant in its mothers arms, and I dreamed for an hour, amid the clang and clatter of moving care and engine bells, that I was pillowed on a bed of down and being regaled by tne songs of fairyland. But I watched the door or that room the next morning to learn, if possible, what kind of animal was being submit ted to cruel torture there. The door opened at last and it came out It had two legs, an immense stomach, and a barge red nose. The long and short of the matter is that I "spent that night of horrors within, perhaps five feet of the champion snorer of the world. P. S. Kxight. Salem, Obeoos. 1S86. Although the above sketch wan written sev eral yean ago. while Mr. Knight was trav eling, this I the first time it was ever given to tbe eyes of the reading public VTAIGER HKOTHEItS. IValrn In Hoot and ghoM-Tb So to C. l isfoTBfe. Among the oldest shoemakers in Salem it J. F. Staiger. Ha baa had an experience of twenty yean' at the bench, and has resided in Salem for tweo ty-two years. His brother, Vm. Staiger, has been in Salem for twenty years, and both have an excellent reputation as business men. Oa January 23, 1 886, they purchased the stock and good will of Charles) Ussfovage'a boot and shoe, busioees, and continued the business under the firm name of Staiger Bros, Their long acquaintance with the boot and shoe buaiiiess stood them in good play on taking this busineaa, in the way of selecting new stock, and in getting good goods. Sines taking the business, they have mors than doubled their stock of goods. They now carry a full Una of men a fin shoes, from tne factory of Bart A Packard, at Brockton, Mas, beside a fall line ot ma' and boy' medium grade, la ladies' hoes, their best grades bear the trad mark of Edwin C Bart, New York, sod they make a specialty, in men's medium grade, of shoe manufactured by Bang ley ft Smith, of Boston, Mass, . Also a fine line of men's oalf and kip boots. Staiger Bros, are also dealers in leather and findings, and all other goods usually found in a first class boot and shoe tore. They are always willing to al low inspection of their goods, at 205 Com mercial street Annstroag. Tbe following abort, yet curious tale.br Rev, P. B. Knight, first appeared ia tbe Overland Monthly for list 1S7S, and was afterward cop ied In several of the principal news Journal of California and Ore goo. Considering it "too food" to lay away, and become forgotten, tne St. rasa a takes pleasure ta giving it to its read en again. In the early days of California the olden days of gold, or the golden days of old, as you please in a certain miner's camp on the Tuba river, there lived a queer genius named Armstrong. He was an honest miner not differing materially from his fellows, excepting he had a cu rious habit of talking to himself. For the simple reason tiiat Jhe departed from common custom in this one particular, he was of course voted crazy by the other miners. To call all persons crazy who do not follow the customs of the majority, is a constant habit with men. But, day after day, Armstrong worked away with his pick and shovel, caring nothing for the remarks of bis neighbors, and seeming to wish for no other partner in bis toils or his rest, save the invisible personage whom be always addressed in the second person singular, with whom be was almost constantly and in close conversa tion. The common drift of his talk while at work, would be about as follows: Rather tough work, Armstrong rich dirt, though grub a dollar a pound no time to waste" pitch in, sir hanged if I don't wish I was in the states. This min ing's mighty hard work. Nonsense, Arm strong; what a fool you are to be talking in that way, with three ounces a day right under your feet and nothing to do but just to dig it out" His conversation would be duly punc tuated with strokes of the pick and lifts of the loaded shovel. And so the davs would pass along, and Armstrong worked. and slept and talked with his invisible partner. Well, it happened, in due course of time, that the class of human vampires, commonly called gamblers, made their appearance at the camp where Armstrong worked. As he was not above following the example of his fellows, he paid the new-comers a visit It is the same old story- After watching the game a while, he cod eluded it was the simplest thing in the world. So he tried his luck and won a hundred dollars! Now, any new ex perience would always set Armstrong to thinking and talking to himself worse than ever. It was so this time. "Now, Armstrong," he said, as he hesitated about going to work next morning, "that is tbe easiest hundred dollars you ever made m your life. What's the use of going into a hole in the ground to dig for three ounces a day 7 The fact is, Armstrong, you are sharp. You were not made for this kind of work. Suppose you iust throw away your pick and shovel, leave the mines, buy a suit of store clothes and drees up like a born gentleman and go at some bu siness that suits your talent" Armstrong was not long in putting these thoughts and sayings into action. He left the diggings and invested in fine clothes. He looked like another man. but he was still the same Armstrong nev ertheless. He was not long in finding an opportunity to try a ne profession. Walking forth in his fresh outfit he had just concluded a long talk with himself about his bright prospect, when he halt ed in front of a large tent with a sign on it "Miners' Best" Armstrong went in. It did not seem te him that he remained very long, but it was long enough to work a wonderful revolution in his feelings. When he came out he was a changed man that is to say, he was a "changeless" man. He was thunderetruclramazed,Dewil dered. He had lost bis money, lost his new prospect lost his sell conceit lost every thing but his new clothes and bis old habit of talking to himself. It is useless to say that he was mad. Armstrong was very mad. But there was no one to be mad at but Armstrong himself, so self number.two was in for a rough lecture: ow, Armstrong, you are a nice speci men you fool you bilk you dead-beat you inf ." Well, I need not repeat all the hard things be said. Like King Rieh-ird, "he found within himself no pity for himself." but mere words were not sufficient It was a time for action. But Armstrong never once thought of shooting, drowning hanging, or any other form of suicide. He was altogether too original as well as to sensible for that Yet he was resolved upon something real and practical in the way of reformatory punishment He felt the need of a self imposed decree of bank ruptcy, that should render the present failure as complete as possible and pre vent a similar course of foolishness in the future. So the broken firm of "Armstrong & Self" went forth in meditation long and deep. Some of his thoughts were almost too deep for utterance. But finally he stood by the dusty road aloijg which the great freighting wagons were hauling supplies to the mining camps up the Sacramento. One of these wagons, drawn by six yoke of oxen, was just passing. Snap, snap, snap, in slow, irregular succession, came the keen stinging reports of the long Mis souri ox-whip. U'lang! g'lang! wo-hawT shouted the talL dust-begrimed driver, as he swung his whip and cast a sidelong glance at the broken firm, wondering "What in thunder all them store-clothes was a-doin' thar." Now, when Armstrong saw the long column of white dust rising behind that wagon, he was taken with an idea. So he shouted to the driver, to know if be might be allowed to walk in thj road behind the wagon. "Oet in and ride," said the driver. "No," said Armstrong; "1 wish to walk." "Then walk, you crazy fool," was the accommodating response, as the driver swung his whip. Then came the tug of war. Greek nev er met Greek more fiercely than did the two contending spirits composing the firm of Armstrong i Self, at that partic ular moment "Now, Armstrong, said the imperious head of the firm, "you get right into the middle of that road, sir, and walk in that dust, behind that wagon all the way to the Packer's Boost, on the Yuba river." "What, with these clothes our "Yes, with those clothes on." "Why, it is fifteen miles, and dusty all the way. "No matter, sir; take the road. You squander your money at three card mon te ; I'll teach you a lesson." "G'lang! Clang!" drawled the drivers he looked over his shoulder with a curious mingling of pity, contempt and wonder on bis dusty face. More and more spite fully snapped the swinging whip as tbe slow-paced oxen toiled mile after mile caisr tL Lci cf a C : 'zx tx LzX there, in the road trav'rsi Ajrtrocj be hind the ws-"--siowr, wearily, thought fully, bat oof silently. lie was a man who always spoke tia thoughts. "This serve yon right, Armstrong. Anyman who will fool his money away at three-card monte deserves to walk ia tbe dust" "Jt will spoil these clothe." "Well, don't you deserve itf The duet fills my eyes." "lea, soy man who gambles all his Must away at three-card monte deserve to have dust in bis eyes and alkali dust, at that" ."The dost chokes me," "All right, may man who will bock at monte deserves to be choked, Keep the road, sir the middle of the road close up to the wagon. Do you think you will ever buck at monte again, Armstrong?" And so the poor culprit, self-arrested, seU-condemnedgOoughed, and sneezesLaad choked, and walked, and talked, mile after mile, hour after hour; while the great wagon groaned and creaked, the driver bawled and swung bis whip, the patient oxen gave their shoulders to the yoke, and tbe golden sua of September sunk wearily towards the west The shadows of evening were beginning to fall when the wagon halted at the place called Packers' Boost, on the Yuba. ' "Here we rest," sighed Armstrong, just above his breath as he looked at the stream. "No, you don't" answered the head of the firm, "You bucked your money away at monte, and talk about resting! Now Armstrong, go right down the bank, sir, into that river." As the command was peremptory, and a spirit of obedience was thought the safest, Arm strong obeyed without parley; and down he went over head and ears, store-clothes and all, into the cold moun tain stream. It was a long time that he remained in the water .and under the wa ter. He would come to the surface every little while to talk, you understand. It was impossible for Armstrong to forbear talking. "Oh, yes," he would esy as be came up and snuffed the water from his nose, "you'll buck your money away at three-card monte, will you? How do you like the water cure?" His words were, of course, duly punctuated by ir regular plunges ana catching of the breath. It so happened that the man who kept the shanty hotel of the Packers' Boost had a woman for a wife. She, being a kindhearted creature, besought her lord to go down and "help tbepoor crazy man out of the water." "Pshaw!" said the ox-driver, "he ain't a crazy man; he's a fooL He walked be hind my wagon and talked to himself all the way from Scrabbletown. Thereupon arose a lengthy discussion about the difference between a crazy man and a fool. But, after a while, the land lord and the ox-driver went down to the bank and agreed to go Armstrong's secu rity against bucking at monte in the fu ture, if he would come out of the water. So he came out and went up to the house. "Will you have a enp of tea or coffee?" said the "woman, kindly. "Yes, madame," said Armstrong, "I will take both." "He is crazy, 6ure as can be," said the woman, but she brought the two cups as ordered. "Milk and sugar?" she enquired, kindly, as before. "No, madame; mustard and red pepper," answered Armstrong. "I do believe he is a fool," said the wo man as Bhe went for the pepper and mus tard. Armstrong, with deliberate coolnes, put a spoonful of red pepper into the tea and a spoonful of mustard into the coffee. Then he poured the two together into a barge tin cup. Them the old conflict raged Rgain, and high above tbe din of rattling tin cups and pewter spoons, sounded the stern command, "Armstrong, drink it sir drink it down." A momentary hesita tion, a few desperate gulps, and it was down. "Oh, yes," said our hero, as bis throat burned, and the tears ran from of his eyes, "you buck your money away at three-card monte, do you?" Now, the Thomsonian dose above des cribed very nearly ended tbe battle with poor Armstrong. He was silent for quite a time, and every body else was silent After a while, tbe landlord ventured to suggest that a bed could be provided if it was desired. "No," said Armstrong, "111 sleep on tbe floor." "You see, strang ger," said he, eyeing the landlord with a peculiar expression, "this fool has been squandering gold dust at monte three- card monte and does not deserve to sleep in a bed." So Armstrong ended tbe day's battle by going to bed on tbe floor. Then came tbe dreams. He first dreamed that be was sleeping with his feet on the Xorth Pole and his bead in the tropics, while all the miners of Yuba were ground-sluicing in his stomach. Next, be dreamed that be had swallowed Mt Shasta for sup per, and that the old mountain had sud denly become an active vole no and wns vomiting seres and acres of hot lava. Then the scenes were shifted, and be seemed to have found his final aliode in a place ot vile smells and fierce flames, po litely called the antipodes of heaven. And while be writhed and groaned in sleepless agony, a for ktailed fiend with his thumb at his nose was saying to him in a mocking' voice f You buck your money away at three-card monte, do yon bey? But even this troubled sleep had an end at last and Armstrong arose. When be looked at himself in the broken looking- glass that hung on tbe wall, be thought his face bore traces of wisdom that never had been there before. So he said : "I think yon have learned a lemon, Arm strong. You can go back to your mining now, sir, and let monte alone." Time showed that he was right His lesson was well learned. The miners looked little curious when be re-appeared at the camp, and still called him crazy. But he had learned a lesson many of them never learned, poor fellows. They continued their old ways, making money fast and spending it foolishly erven giving it to monte dealers. But the Armstrong firm was never broken in that way but once. After that whenever be saw one of those peculiar signs, 'Bobbers' Boost,' "Fleecers Den," or "Fools' Last Chance.1 Armstrong would shake his bead with a knowing air. and say to himself as he passed along: "Oh, yes, Armstrong, youv'e been there; you know ail about that you don't buck your money away at three-card monte not much!" MEDICAL TESTTMOOTT. 100 W est h Btsi rr. JiEW Yoaa. Jena K. IU3. Having in tbe eonrae of a larce practice ex tensively naed AUcock's Porous Platter in the various diseases and conditions of tbe lungs and pleura, and always with aceesa, I reeoat mend tbeir a mi in tbe most aggravating dieae Summer Catarrh, or Hay Fever; strips of Plas ter applied over the throat and ehest will afford great relief from the choking tiekUng in the throat, wbeesing, shortness of breaih, and pains la tbe cheat. I K. VrCOBMici, X. D renr r r" ST inn " is II MOST PERFECT Er. Price's Extracts, .'cr-Fur i tin., uicuaisu uibb to u urn ..U1 GATHERING LEMONS FOR PROFESSIONAL CARDS. TILMON FORD, ATl'OllNEY AT LAW. BaLE&S, OREGON. CnWOffiee in Pat ton's building, np stairs Wm. KAISES, ATTORNEY AT LAW", 8ALKX. OBIGOK. Office with TUmon Toed. In ration's balldlnr Will Dractiee in all the courts of this State. I ,'al buafbesa entrusted to his ear vlli recti t nrompf, attention. Collections a specialty. S. T. RICHARDSOX, Attorney and Counselor at Iaw, SALEM, OREGON. jaOfflce. Commercial street, over Capital National Bank. Will Dractiee in all the enurta of Oregon. Collections made. Land office bus iness a specialty. . P. H. D'ARCY, Attrnfjr and Ccmrwelor at Ictw SALEM, OREGON. V"Having an abstract of tbe records of Mar ion countr. including a lot and block index of Salem, be ha. special facilities for eiaminine titles to real estate. W. G. PIPER, Attorney and Counselor at I t W SALEM, OREGON. Will nrartlre in all the court at tha state. Office in Turner's building, np stairs. GEO. II. BURNETT, ATTORNEY AT LAW, SALEM, OREGON. Office over Ladd a Bosh's bank. J. W. SPKIGGS, ATTOHiKY AT LAW, SALEM. OREGON. Office in England's bWk. Legal business of all kinds. Also both life and Ire insurance. J.J. SHAW. J.T.GREGG SHAW ft GREGG, ATTOKNKYH AT LAW SALEM. OREGON. Cay-Office I Belt's drug sfc n Patton's block, op stairs over store. H. CARPENTER. M. P., I,hyfsi4n and Hurgnm, SALEM. OREGON. Office on State street, over D. W. Matthews' drugstore. Residence 205 Church street, corner retry, office hours from 10 to 12 a. m. and I to 4 p. m. B. T. SWICK. W. T. 8LATTEN. SWICK t SLATTEN, DENTIST 8." 8ALEM, OREGON. 9 ' .Offlce over tbe White Corner. An tnetics administered for the painless extraction of teeth. 11-S-dw-lm T. C. SMITH, D E K T 1 H T, SALEM,- .... OREOOM. 53T-XItJtms oxide gas, vitalised air, ehlo rotorsa, ether, or tbe freeser, naed for the FsUm taaa KiUntlsa tistk. Ail work guaran teed and charges reasonable. Office, Rooca Mo. t, la faooa's block. State streec n. a. BoLaarn, H tk J. W. Baa, M D- H0LMES A BEAJf. FbyaJciana and Sargewnav ALEX. ORXGOX. 9OSe sa tbe second Boor.Grtswosd Uotk, Corner of Stats d Commercial straeU. J. C. BYRD, DENTIST. SALEM, OEEGOIS JssnwMBea .. Ladd Bosh's beak, ra the room formerly oeeopiedbybv. LSSkiC Aa- assttog Maatataterea tot wm ysinnn ezsrasr f tact. - i kj i i ( i MADE Vanilla. Lemon, Orange, Eose, Almcai, UIUW,USIIU UUIHVUHi 3 T; cipi i vaIti1 DrPRICETS FLAVORING EXTRACT; T. H. PARKS, H. D., PHY81CIANAND BURGKON SALEM. OREGON. 9OOoes 105 State street, op stairs, sad at residence, 4 Liberty street. Telephone con necting ofBces. A. D. RISDON, HOHaOPATHIO PIIY8ICIAN Ac SUROSOK, SALE IT, OREGON. 90 Ace, Wagner's block, three door east of the eld court house. Calls in both city and Sou n try will receive prompt attention. C. W. JEFFREY, VETERINAUY BURG SALEM, OREGON, 3P0fflee at Minto Bros.' stable, Commoni tauoos should be addressed, to Boa as, balsh. DR. C. A. BOX HAM, Resident Dentist, SALEM, OREGON. Office corner Court and Commercial streeta.over Farrar's grocery store. Dentistry in all its branches. ALL WORK WAIIUAXTKD. Gold fillings a specialty. My local anaslbet ic. as a pain oUuniler, haa no euaL Whan ap- J riled to tbe gums but ft minutes, renders e raction painless. iH-ntista not In Oregon can secure tbe right to use tbe medicine, from br. Bonham, the discoverer. jas. soorair. aoss e. noons (6 (Successors to Mrs. A L. Btloson.) Job Printers. ALL KINDS OT- Plain and Fancy Printing Done to order, oa short notice. First-class Work, and Reasonable Prices. A complete line of Legal Blanks Constantly on band. Office: t'p stairs la the Turner block.' od poslte tbe post office, on Commercial street. P. J. CATTEBLIN THE tT leading Photographer, Corner State and HIch streets. Salem, Oregon. All work dose In The LATEST STYLE OP ART. Good work and satisfaction guaranteed, or no charge. Mr. Catterlin U In constant receipt of tbe latest proceasea from the east, and keeps folly np with tbe times. NORTH SALEM STORE W. L. WAD3? Dealer la ; ' . Dry Goods, Groceries, and Gen eral aierchandise. . NEW GOODS! This store Is eonatanUy in-receipt e new gooda, and sJways has oa band aWgeand fresh stock. Remember the XarJi t'm store, in the brick- A. 0LI5GE2 & fP5, Contr-actorsi m- J3ulldersj, ' SALEM, t WOS. SrAll of Jfers lefts'' TnUertoo Co. ' wiU melTt proa;? i fMn' GODFREY ORES