NORWALK GAZETTE, OWEDNESJ)AY, JU N E 4. l 98 0. FF.§:?-lDSHlP. _'_ The stars :hat burn with purest beam, Like brilliants round the brow of night, . Not half so warm and lovely seem, As eyes that shine with friendships light, When turning back our wandering feet \Ve know that sacred fire will rise, And feel each moment doubly sweet That brings us near those beaming: eyes. ! I know where richest blossoms blow, ' And cloudless skies bestow their smiles; \Vhere streams in meltingr music flow—- Thro‘ hallowed and enchanted isles. But I can see each fairest flower In cloudless eyes and feel the spell Of tones whose lightest sound has; power To match Apollo‘s winding shell. I would not tread where angels lead. If friends I loved were left behind With tears to weep and hearts to blecl Tho‘ paradise my steps Should find: Its beings may be fairer far, . Its streets of gold and jasper be; But leave me where my loved ones are, That will be paradise to me. —Brook1yn Eagle. ‘ A NIGHT ADVENTURE. During the year 1869 I was employed by the Bank of Raybury to exchange money between it and the Bank of Mutual Re- demption, with which they did business in the city. It was not a very interesting employmen ., and one which gave me but a small salary, but just then times were dull and work scarce, so I was glad to get anything to do, especially as I had an aged mother depending upon me for support. One dark, drizzly November night—and nearly all November nights are dark—the stage for Raybury broke down hopelessly, fifteen miles from , its destination. Of course, the accident happened in just the worst part of the road, where it was next ‘to impossible to get a carriage of any kind, and Where the only place of entertainment was a rude log house, dignified by the name of the J eifersou inn. Mr. Griggs, the landlord of the tavern, was soon on the spot, and gave it as his opinion that the passengers had better go to his house for the night; but as some half dozen of them were determined to go on, there was no alternative but to get out an Old express wagon, which was stacked away in a remote shed, and dispatch them on their way. The stage horses were made available, and the passengers piled in with selfish haste; and long before I could get my vnli ‘2 out of the ruins of the stage and reach t in wagon, it mid I'lllllblcfl our, and left me, with a half dozen more, behind. It was absolutely necessary that I should be in Raybury that night, else I should cause serious inconvenience at the bank next morning. And as I had been so often congratulated on my promptitude in my business, I felt very loth to be benindhand now. I spoke to Mr. Griggs about it, and asked if it were not. possible for llllll to let ‘me have a horse for Raybury. I would pay him liberally, and return the animal in good condition the next- day. But he only shook his head. He had only one horse in the stable, he said, and Mrs. Griggs was subject to dreadful spells Ofthe colic, and might be taken at any hour, and he made it arule of his life never to let Digby go out of :1. . stable for fear Mrs. Griggs might be seiz. .::id die before the doctor could be brought. Under the circumstances Of course I could not urge my request for the use of Digby, and there was no chance for me to get to Raybury until the 11 O’clock stage next day unless I footed it, and that I should not for a moment have hesitated to do had it not been for the fact that the road to Raybury was the vilcst in the county. I always felt like swearing when I rode over it, and doubtless I should have yielded en- tirely to the sin of profanity if I had at— tempted to walk it. “Go to my house and stay tO—night, Mr. Marsh,” said the landlord. “I can give you some venison pie and a pot of beer for your supper and a nice shake down before the kitchen fire.” “Pray, sir,” said a sweet voice at Griggs’ elbow. “is there no way to go on to Ray- bury?” “th t-o—night, my dear,” said Griggs, softening as the light of his lantern shone over the pretty face of a young girl whom I had scarcely seen before, she having been an inside pascengcr. “I guess you’ll have to take up with such accommodations as my llL use oll‘ers. I shouldn’t wonder if Sally—t hat‘s my darter, miss—will let you have half of her bed, seeing as you’ve been un fortunate." ' “i must go on,” she said earnestly. “I have been some months from heme, and have been summoned thither by the illness of my father. Indeed, sir. I cannot delay here, for the dispatch said my father was dying.” There were tears in her voice, but it was too dark to see whether they dimmed her eyes. “It‘s too had I” said Griggs; “but I couldn’t let Digby go on any account; because, you see, if Mrs. Griggs should be took, she’d die store we could git Dr. Lumston here on foot. You see, when she has these spells she’s awful! Hello! Who’s coming now?” A close carriage drawn by two dark horses had come up and halted by the side of the overturned coach. It was just light enough to show me that there were two men in the carriage, and that they ifi‘orc caps with the visors well down and were muffled well about the throat; but it was a chilly, raw evening, and one needed to bc mufl'lcd. “IVhat’s the difficulty?” asked one of the men, in a hoarse voice. “St-age upset,” said the landlord; “axle- tree broke, and everything went to thun- der.” ' “\Vell, you’ll get your house filledtonight, if you’re the landlord of- the place back yonder,” said the stranger. “Any gentle- man here that would like to go on to Ray- bury? \Ve would take one down.” I stepped quickly forward, and said I should be greatly indebted if they would give me a seat. And then I introduced my- self—Henry Marsh. “And here’s a young woman as is going, too,” said the landlord; “her pa’s sick, and she must. git there, and I wouldn’t think of ' Digby out on account of Mrs. uncertain health. Miss—Miss— ! ,, “I l)..‘. 1,, (-1 r3 Ville. ‘s your name, my dear?” “.-\.xt-.-il,” said the girl, “Madeline Axtell. My hither bury 1).. -. The president Of the bank for which I worked. i knew Judge Axtell very well, and was able to tell Miss Madeline that his illness was not considered dangerous. But still she insisted upon going on, and at last, after some considerable conversation be- tween the two strangers, inaudible to us, they consented to. takeus both. I aSsistcd Miss Axtell into the carriage is Howard Axtell, Of the Ray- and took with her the back seat, our com-. panions occupying the front. Only one lamp of the carriage was burn- ,ing, and that gave a. very dim light, and the farther we went the deeper seemed to 'grow the darkness. It. was a. lonely road ’at any time to‘ Raybury, but now it was iparticularly gloomy, and I was confident ,thfit Miss Axtell showed to some degree ,tlie vague forebodings which I could not pi‘évent myself from experimeing, for slit 6 , drew closer to me, and once she asked me ‘ how long it would be before we reached Monville—the next village. \Ve came at last to Hemlock reach—a long stretch of timber which intersected the country at that point, and was some three miles wide. There was not a house for the whole three miles, and both sides . of the roaded were wooded almost to the wheel rut. As the horse plunged into the blackness of the place and panted and struggled through the mud under foot Iwas confi- dent that the two men spoke together in subdued whispers, and that I distinctly caught the words, “D——— the girl!” and “Fifty—five hundrec .” I grew cold with dismay. Fifty-five hun- dred dollars was just me amount I had about me, and it seemed very possible that these fellows had gOt information to that effect, and that I was to be robbed—per— haps murdered. If I had been alone I should have felt no fear, for I am natural- ly what is called a dare devil sort of a fel— low, and I had confidence in my courage and strength, as well as in the pair of trusty revolvers I carried in my breast pocket. But Miss Axtell? What would become of her? If they conquered me she would be whOlly in their power, and if they were what I took them to be—then God help her! We had traveled about half the distance through the woods when the horses were stopped abruptly, and one of the men rose up in his seat and faced us. Miss Axtell grasped my arm, and I knew that she was terrified by the quick way in which her breath came, but she did not cry out, as most women would have done. “There is no need of mincing matters,” said the man, with admirable coolness, “and I will come to the point at once. You have 85,500 in your possession, and my friend here and myself are in want of it. \Ve planned the accident to the stagcfiby sawing the axle half in two, and we hap- pened along expressly to take you down to taybury. The lady we did not reckon upon, but could not well be ungallant enough to refuse so much beauty in dis- tress. And now the question is, will you or will you not give us this money?” “Most decidedly I will not!” was the reply. “Then we must use force,” said the man, “and I warn you now that I will murder you before I will allow you to escape with the money! Give it up peaceably, ' and I pledge you my honor that both yourself and the lady shall be left at the next vil- lage safe and unmolested.” I Will never give up 2 cent; of the money,” said I, feeling my indignation £5.20 at the scoundrcl’s coolness; “not a cent of it, unless it is taken from my dead body!” As I spoke the man flung off his coat and seized me by the shoulder. Quick as thought I leaped out of the carriage, drag- ging him with me, and then began the struggle. ‘ “Don’t use the pistols,” said the villain who was taking care Of the horses; “they would be heard too far; knife him if you have got to stop his wind!” My antagonist was a powerfully built fellow and exceedingly strong, but I was lithe and athletic, and we were very nearly matched. Over and over we rolled in the mud, sometimes one gaining an advantage, sometimes the other, but neither giving up the struggle. Once I had him by the throat and his gurgling cry for help brought the other man to the spot. Two against one was rather fearful odds, but I felt no disposition to yield. They beat me and crushed me with their weight, but they never once succeeded in pinioning my hands. and I flatter myself that I gave them 5035.; blows that they felt sensibly, to say the least. But after a time I felt my strength giv- ing way and knew that I could not hold out much longer. How Miss Axtell guessed it I do not know, but just as the larger man of the two had planted his knee on my breast and was raising a knife to strike it to my heart I saw by the dim light shed by the carriage lamp that the young lady had got down from the vehicle and was hurrying toward us. I tried to shout to her to escape while she had a chance, but if she heard she did not heed. She c2 .me straight on, and the next moment I heard a cry of rage and pain, and the man on my breast tumbled Off violently and lay kicking upon the ground. She had made a slip noose with her scarf and flung it over his head while he was too much occupied to notice her presence. And now the brave girl was tugging away at the scarf with all her might, and the man was choking and swearing at a tremendous rate. ‘ Suddenly he twitchcd the scarf from her hands, and then, with a wild oath, he sprang upon her and both went down to the ground. Breaking loose from the other man I rushed to the spot and saw the villain was tying Miss Axtell’s hands. She was be- tween me and him, and I called out to her: “Miss Axtell, drop 3 our head and do not move until I tell you to.” She obeyed, and simultaneously I fired one of my pistols at the exposed breast of the man. He dropped instantly, and be- fore I could turn to his companion I felt his grasp again upon my throat and the cold touch of steel upon my forehead. It was no time to indulge in questions of right and wrong if I would save my life and hers, and, without pausing to argue the. morality Of the proceeding, I gave this man the contents of the other barrel of my rc- volver. It settled his business for him so effect- ually that be caused us no more trouble; and, having ascertained that both the men were dead, I lifted Miss Axtcll into the carriage and drove as fast as I could to the next village, where I roused the proper authorities and placed them in possession of the facts. Then I took Miss Axtell home, and was gratified to find that her father was out of all danger and in a fair way of a speedy convalescence. , The two robbers were recognized as Old offenders; they had each been at one time in the state prison, and were well known as very desperate characters. Considering everything, my escape was most providen— tial. Perhaps the reader will be interested to know that during that uncomfortable night I fell desperately in love with Miss Axtcll, and so successfully did we both plead with her father that, rich old nabob as he was, he consented to our marriage; andnow I am cashier of the Rayburybank and Madeline is my wife, God bless her!— New York \Veeklr. In the formation of a single locomotive steam engine there are (nearly 6,000 pieces to be put together, and these require to'be as accurately adjusted as the works of a. watch. . _ Eat an apple every night and you will lengthen your life ten years. You Wilhdo half as well if you make it a. rule to drink a. glass of water every night. . “Cereal food,” said the tramp-reading the advertisement. “Humphl. I’d likéj'to see real food. It’s this sham grub‘that’s lziliin’ mo.”—Epoch. ._.-. m-..a-»_. --—<~~,—.-_. --, WAL'klN'o'A ‘l'RACK FOR AHLIVl—NVG: It’s a Useful Though Not a. Pleasant Oc- pation, as Many Men Know. Some of the. old railroad track walkers mu boast of records equal to that of loco- motives in the point of miles which they have covere< . Engineers sometimes claim' that they have ridden 200,000 miles or so, but the men who have walked that far are not often heard of. Still there are plenty of them in the branch of the railroad serv- ice of which the “track walker” belongs. They are the safeguard of travel which the public knows least about. They prevent hundreds of accidents, but their good deeds are rarely, if ever, rewarded, as is the case with the faithful engineer 01' flagman. And it is a peculiar fact that there is no line of promotion, consequently no great incentive to careful work. A reporter got some ideas about their duties from Thomas Epsnan, now foreman of a section Of trackmen in the yard Of the Grand Central station. Sesnan has been employed on the track work of the Harlem railroad for forty—two years, and is now looked upon as a patriarch among the trackmen. He has had charge of a gang for the last eighteen years; before that he was a trackman himself. He says that he helped to lay the second track of the Hai- lem road in 1848, over which the New Haven road first entered the city. “Every piece of railroad,” he said, . ,“is divided into sections of from five to seven miles, if it is single track, and from three to four miles, if double. A foreman with a gang of five or six men keeps each sec- tion in order. All but one are trackmen, who are kept busy making repairs. That one is the track walker, who patrols the tracks all day long with an eye out for weak points and obstructions which might cause accidents. Of course there is a sec- ond track walker at night who does the same work. “The track walker’s outfit includes a hammer, wrench, lantern, red flag, a few torpedoes, bolts and spikes. No, he doesn’t walk at pedestrian speed. His gait shouldn’t be more than two to three miles an hour. A man might hurry over the en- tire ground inside Of an hour, but he couldn’t look at every bolt and rail connec— tion as his duties require. If it’s a double track road he walks on the track facing the direction from which the train is com— ing and examines only one track at a time. He takes the other track on the way back. A track walker gets over the ground, as far as he is able, just before the trains pass over his section. But he keeps at work all day long, and if he has a double track, di— vldca into three mile sections, he ought to make about three round trips a day over each track. This would make a day’s av- erage of twenty—four miles. “An experienced track walker can tell a loose bolt at a glance. Sometimes it will be caused by a broken rail, and he will see that the joints do not fit. Generally a loose joint will be indicated by a disturb— ance of the earth, causing a crevice be- tween the sleeper and the rail. In this case the track walker props the rail with a thin piece of wood, which he must carry in his outfit. Fish plates and angle plates are distributed along the line, and the track walker sometimes has to replace broken plates if there isn’t time for the section gang to come up before a train is due. In case of a broken rail or obstruc- tions which he can’t handle, the ti‘ack walker puts torpedoes on the tracks and uses his red flag to warn a passing train. Then he leaves his patrol and informs the foreman and trackman as soon as possible. In emergency cases at night the track walker wraps his red flag about the lan- tern as a signal. Torpedocs are used also. “I never heard of a track walker’s being promoted to a better paying position. Once a track walker always a track walker.” “Anybody can get such a job, then,” sug- gested the reporter. “Not a bit of it,” retorted the patriarch. “You couldn’t, for instance. I’d like to see you bolt on one of those angle plates; and you’d have to do it in case Of emer— gency. A man must have experience as a trackman first. The foreman picks his track walker out of the trackmen. Their pay is all the same—about 81.35 a day. But if there is any promoting being done, the track walker is never the lucky one. Some trackman gets the raise. The track walker must go back to the section gang again if he expects to get up in the world. “As a rule, track walkers keep at it all their lives. A man who worked under me on the section between Philmont and Crary— ville, on the Harlem road, a trip six miles long, made two round trips 3. day. He started from Philmont at 5 a. m., and by the end of the first round trip of twelve miles it was noon and he got dinner. An- other trip and he gave way to another man at 5 p. m. This man, Michael McGrath, kept up his twenty-four miles walk about every day in the year for eighteen years. Reckoning 360 days to the year, this makes more that 155,000 miles. Many rack walk— ers have kept it up longer. A man on the Erie says he has walked more than 200,000 miles. “The unpleasant part comes in rainy or wintry veather. Of course if the snow is six inches; deep on the tracks, the track walker can’t see the rails, let alone the loose bolts, and this is the only time he gets a holiday. But the chances are that he vill have to tu ‘n in with the rest of the sec-tion gang and help clear the road.”— New York Sun. Looking for Spittoons. There is a tradesman in this village who occasionally gets off a good thing. The fact that he is innocent Of any intent to joke adds force to his comical sayings. The other day a lady called at his place of busi- ness and asked: “Have you spittoons?” “Eh?" said the merchant, pricking up his ears. “Can you show me a. spittoon?” repeated the lady, in a higher key. “NO, ” said the merchant, “I have nothing of the kind; but,” he added ,hospitably, “you can spit in the coal bed.” The listeners chuckled audibly, and the lady smiled and took a hasty departure.— Richmond (Me) Bee. Millionaires of Ancient Times. The sacred writings tell us that Solomon was immensely rich—that silver was abun- dant in Jerusalem, and that in one year the king received from Hiram 300 talents of gold, equal to $16,250,000. It is known that in Assyria there were large masses of gold, and that Darius received in tribute from Persia as much as $16,250,000. In Greece,"1 the wealth of Croesus was esfiiated at $15,— ' 000,000, and that of Pytheus at as large a sum. At Rome, Tiberius, it is said, left a legacy of $110,000,000, and Augustus ob- tained by testamentary dispositions as much as $160,000,000.—-Dry Goods Chronicle. A professor in the'University of Klausen- burg claims to have compounded a solution which completely neutralizes the poison introduced into the system by the bite of a mad dog. This solution consists of chlorine water, salt brine, sulphurous acid, per- manganate of potassium and eucalyptus OIL - A ‘i‘ruo Story of a Dog. People living uptown in the neighbor- hood of Sixth and Oxford streets, Phil- adelphia, often see droves of sheep driven through the streets. One man with his droves has for an assistantonly a shepherd dog, who is expert in his way. The man is fond of stopping and tells the dog, by a wave of his hand, to mind the sheep while he is absent. Recently a gentleman timed the shep- herd. He was in the house thirty—five min- utes. The dog marshaled the sheep close together right at the corner, near where his master entered a dcor, and then lay down to rest, but was on the alert for any movement among the sheep. He kept them packed closely together, and if one moved out of the line he rose and with a few barks soon had the sheep back in place. He would run around the flock to see if all was right and then lay down again, only to repeat the watch when another moved. He had them in such a group that they filled the street from curb to curb, but he would not allow them to get on the pavement. At last a wagon came along; the driver wanted to turn up the street, and, not be- ing able to go through the group of sheep, stopped. The dog saw the dilemm, step- ped out and soon had the sheep arranged in file on one side of the street, leaving plenty of room for the horses and wagon to pass. Nobody told the dog what—he knew. After it was all done his master came out and gave the dog a pat on the head and a piece of pretzel by way of re- ward—New York Tribune. How to Retain Trade. The merchants who think they gain trade by trusting customers of doubtful standing may find a moral in this little story: A certain jobber has for years sold supplies to peddlers. His methods are pe— culiar, but as they are based on a knowl— edge of human nature and especially of the specimens with which he has to deal, they generally work to his satisfaction. Many Of his best customers are sold onaspot cash basis only. One of these was buying some goods from him the other day and found, when the bill was presented, that he lacked $2.65 of thc'uecessary sum. “I’ll pay you that little balance the next time I come in,” said the customer. The jobber reflected for a moment and then said: “You needn’t trouble yourself to pay it. I‘ll make you a present of the difference, Mr. Blank,” he said. Turning to thc bookkeeper, “Receipt this bill in full.” After the peddlcr had departed a friend who was present asked for an explanation. “That man," replied the jobber, “is one of my best customers. He comes here very Often and pays cash for all he buys. I am sure of his trade a; long as this con- tinues; but should I ever give him credit, however small, he could not withstand the temptation of swindling me out of the debt. He would never enter the store again, and I would lose both my account and my customer. The first loss is always the best, so I made him a present of that small balance, and will thus retain his trade. ’ ’——chelcrs’ \Vcckly. The Bond Between the Earth and Sun. It would almost. seem as if our globe were always trying to escape from the thraldom of the sun, who, knowing how fatal to us such an escape would be, inces- santly interferes to prevent it. If only the sun were to withhold that attractive power by which the earth is maintained in the course at present followed, dire calamity must result. This globe of ours is now hurrying along at a pace of eighteen miles a second, and if the sun’s attraction no longer restrained us we should not con— tinue to revolve in a circle, but would at once start off in a straightdino through space. Every minute would take us more than a thousand miles, and by the time a hundred days had elapsed we should be twice as far from the sun as we are at present. His light and his heat would be reduced to one-fourth part of what we now enjoy. \Vith every successive minute the sun’s influence would still further abate, and it is almost needless to add that all known forms of life must vanish from the globe. It is, therefore, satisfactory to know that we possess every security that the sun’s attraction will never decline from what it is at the present moment, and therefore there is no ground for any appre- hension that life shall be chased from this globe by a dissolution of the bond of attrac- tion between the earth and sun.~—Good Vords. ‘What Becomes of Old Hats. Most people who buy hats hcre leave their old ones. YVhat becomesof these old hats? If the body of the hat is very old it is sold to the old hat man, who strips it Of the band, the sweat band, and maybe the lining if it is not too much worn. He usu- ally sells these strippings for twenty—five cents. But if the hat is only partially worn it is kept here until the accumula- tion become too great, and in that case the old hat man has a harvest. But those that are not too much worn, which we re- tain, are brushed up for the benefit of our customers. A man omcs in who wants his hat renovated. he job may require time. The man may not want to wait; says “Lend me a hat,” and we give him one of these. A good many of these hats are worn to baseball games. People don’t like to wear good hats to a ball ground. There is a superstition that there is apt to be rain some time during the day on which a game of ball is played, or that a hot ball may get loose on the grand stand. That is why so many Old hats are worn to ball games—Interview in Chicago Tribune. Presence of I‘innd. Lieut. Von Barby, of the Twelfth Hussar regiment, Germany, was riding with the troops in the neighborhood Of Merseburg, when his horse took fright and bolted. All efforts to restrain him being fruitless, he gave him the rein and waited his Oppor- tunity to jump Off. To his dismay the ani- mal swerved suddenly in the direction of a plateau overhanging a broad expanse of water; a few moments and both horse and rider would be over the edge. A bright flash was seen for a moment, the saber of the officer fell upon the head of the steed, and they both came to the ground, the man safe—Exchange. Estimate of the world’s population: The Mongolians lead with about 639,000,000, and the Aryans, which comprise practically all the people of Europe, four-fifths of those of the American continent and all of the civilized residents of Australia, come next, with 545,000,000. The negroes are put at 150,000,000, the Semitic people at 65,000,000, the Malays and Polynesians at 35,000,000, and the Indians of North and South America at 15,000,000. A colossal scheme has been projected for conveying petroleum in pipes from the: port of Baku. on the Caspian, to Batoum,i on the Black’sea. The length of the line; of piping is 497 miles, the cast iron pipes, are to be eight inches in diameter, and; . ,JoIIN W. mesons. General Agent. New Haven,conn. - there are to be sixty-four intermediate‘ stations. . . ' ‘ .‘ : I i OFI OF NEW YORK. ASSETS, - - - - Increase in Asset-s, . . . . . . . . Surplus, . . . . Increase in Surplus, . . . . . . . . Receipts, . . . . Increase during year, . . . . . . . . Paid Policy-Holders, - . . . . Increase during year, . . . . ~ . . . . Risks assumed, . . . . Increase during year, . . . . . . . . Risks in force, . . . . Increase during year, Policies in force, Increase during year, Policies Written in 1889, . . . . Increase over. 1888, no.- can. Real Estate and Bond and Mortgage Loans, United States Bonds and other Securities, Loans on Collateral Securities, Cash in Banks and Trust Companies at interest, . . . . Interest accrued, Premiums deferred and in transit, etc, fl be correct. Risks Outstanding. Risks Year. Assumed. a NEW YORK, January 29th, 1890. Board of Trustees Samuel F. Sprouls, Lucius Robinson, Samuel D. Babcock, George S. Coe, Richard A. McCurdy, James C. Holdcn, Herman G. von Post, Alexander H. Rice, Lewis May, Oliver Harriman, Henry W. Smith, Robert Olyphant, George F. Baker, Joseph Thompson, Dudley Olcott, Frederick Cromwell, J alien T. Davies, Robert Seweli, George Bliss, Rufus W. Peckham, J. Hobart Herrick, Wm. P. Dixon, Robert A. Grannis, Nicholas C. Miller, Henry H. Rogers, Theodore Morford. William Babcock, Preston B. Plumb, Stuyvesant Fish, Charles E. Miller, James W. Husted. ROBERT A. GRANNIS, Ice-President. A. N. WATERHOUSE, Auditor. FREDERIC CROMWELL, Treasurer. EDWARD P. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier. WILLIAM G. DAVIES, Solicitor. WILLIAM W. RICHARDS, MEDICAL DIRECTORS. 'GUSTAVUS S. WINSTON, M. D. WALTER R. GILLETT, M. D., VVillIam D. \Vashburn, STATEMENT . RICHARD A. McCURDY, President. For the Year Ending December 3131:, 1889“ $l36,40l .328 02 $10,319,174 46 $9,657,248 44 $1,717,184 81 $31,119,019 62 $4,903,087 10 $15,200,608 38 $473,058 16 $151,602,483 37 $48,388,222 05 $565,949,938 92 $83,824,749 56 182,310 23,941 44,577 11,971 THE ASSETS ARE INVESTED AS FOLLOWS : $69,361,913 13 $50,323,469 81 $9,845,500 00 $2,988,632 79 $3,881,812 29 $136,401,328 02 Liabilties (including Reserve at 4 per cent,) $126,744,079 58 I have carefully examined the foregoing statement and __find the same to A. N. WATERHOUSE, Auditor. From the Surplus above stated a dividend will be apportioned as usual. Surplus. 1884. . . 8 34,681,420. . . $351,789,285. . . .$103,876,178.51. . . $4,743,771 1885 . . . . 46,507,139. . . . 368,981,441. . . . 108,908,967.51. . . . 5,012,634 1886. . . . 56,832,719 . . . . 393,809,203 . . . . 114,181,963.24 . . . . 5,643,568 1887 . . . . 69,457,468. . . . 427,628,933. . . . 118,806,851.88 . . . . 6,294,442 1888 . . . . 103,214,261 . . . . 482,125,184. . . . 126,082,153.56 . . . . 7,940,063 1889' ‘ ' ' 151,602,483. . . . 565,949,934. . . . 136,401,32802. . . . 6,557,248 S. VanRensselaer Curzon, Charles R. Henderson, Jno. W. Auchincloss, Augustus D. J uilliard, ISAAC F. LLOYD, 2d Vice President. WILLIAM J. EASTON, Secretary. ~_ FREDERICK SCHRODER, Asst. Secretary. EMORY MOCLINTOCK, LL.D., F. I. A. Actuary. _ . JOHN TATLOCK, JIL, Asst. Actuary. CHARLES R. PERRY, 2d Asst. Actuary, JOHN A. FONDA, Assistant Treasurer. WILLIAM P. SANDS, Cashier. Comptroller. E. J. MARSH, M.D, A. H. CAMP, Agent. Norwalk, Conn. 6 THE MUTUAL Ll INSURANEE COMPANY. ~ ‘1