Superior

Superior, Mich., March 18

The barn and house, a log structure, on the farm of Mrs. Morris O'Connor went up in smoke last Tuesday night. As the house was unoccupied, the origin of the fire is a mystery.

Mr. and Mrs. Abram Trotter, who have been in the employ of Frank Lambie the past year, and members of the notorious band of sixty, determined to disentangle themselves from the entangling alliance and hie themselves to some safe retreat where they could spend their remaining days in peace and finally located on the Casey farm, about a mile farther toward the south pole, but the crowd got after them just the same. Last Friday while Mrs. T. was washing the milk pail, Mr. T. was on the front porch gazing at the stars and their youngster, a lad of tender years, was amusing himself pinching the cat's tail, the crowd swooped down upon them unawares, capturing the whole shooting match, but upon swearing to renew their allegiance the family were given their freedom and the evening's occasion proved one of the best of the season. After several hotly contested games of pedro John Mulholland and Miss Casey waltzed out of the ring bearing the blue ribbon. Then came a feast of oysters, served in every style, after which George Wilbur, on behalf of the company and in the name of the people of the state of Michigan, presented Mr. and Mrs. Trotter with a handsome set of dishes, a very pleasant reminder of past associations, and which was highly appreciated by the happy pair. Then came the dance.

Though the clock struck one, two, three, They heeded not the warning, They tripped the light fantastic to And didn't go home till morning.