1 Cljf .errs! llfpaliliMit Is rcm.inniu minr wtcdnjpwat, t J. E. WBNK. Oflloe in BmoarbMigli & Co. 'a rimMing, ELM BTUIUT, - TIONEfiTA, PA. No mWrlpll'itiR n reived for a gliorter period tlntn tint n ii,nniii Un n"p''iHi'in'0 mllr itcil from nil porta nf tin country . N.j miiii-o n i 1 lotakin of anonynioiu '.'iir,iiuniiio:.l. cii:-i. RATES OF ADVERTISING. On flfjuare, one Inch, one InsrrVon.... II 00 Oiie S'jnare, one inch, one month. 3 00 i ne H iiarc, i no inch, three montliK... 6 00 On" .wiiiare, one inch, one year., JO 00 I'wo squares, one year 13 Oil 'J mrU-r Coiuimi, olid year 80 00 HnirCiilumn, one year M 00 Ono Column, one year 100 0 JfTft notlcca at r1abWil'iel raie. M unifiers ami death notices gratia. All billn tor ycftily advertlm menu colleotn l inartorlv. Temporary adrertiaementa must La i ...i.l fur in advitnoe. VOL. 17, J'NO. 33. TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER 15, 1882. $1.50 PER ANNUM. Juo woik, caau on dolirery. if .1 .1 The Spirit Ideal. rPostlinmons poem attributed to Edgnr A. I oe. 'J'liis jmmmii wits not published until mnny yearn nftor Mr. I'oc'b death. It Is written in llie style of hi "Haven," which foct will lo irndily recognized by all admir er of bis poetry. From tho throne of life eternal. From the home of love supernal, Whore angel feet make music oyer all the starry floor, Mortals, I have como to meet yon, Come with words of peace to greet yon, And to Ml yon of the glory that ia mine for vermorc. Once before I found a mortal Waiting at the l.eavcnly porUil Waiting but lo cateh some echo from that ever opening door, Then I seized his quickened being, And through all his inward seeming, Caused my burning inspiration ia a fiery flood to pour. , , Now I oome more meekly human, With the weak lipa of a woman Touckod with fire from oil the altar, not with burning ns of yore, ' . But in holy lore ascending, With her chastened being blending, I would fill your aouls with musio from the bright celential shore. Aa one heart yearns for another, Aa a child turns to its mother, From the golden gatea of glory turn I to tUe earth once more, Where I drained the) cup of Badness, Where my soul w:i stung to madnoss, And life'a bitter burning billowa swept my burdened beinj; o'er. riere the harpies and the ravens, Human vampires, sordid cravens, Preyed ttpon my soul and eubstanoe till I writhed with anguish sore. Life and I seemed then mismnted, For I felt accursed and fated, Like a restless, wrathful spirit wandering on the Stygian shore. Tortured by a nameless yearning, Like a frost-firo freezing, burning, Did the purple pulsing lifo-tido through ita fevered channels pour; ' Till the "golden bowl," life's token Into shining shreds was broken, And my chafed and dialing spirit.leaped from out its prison door. But while living, striving, dying, Nover did my soul cease crying, ' ' "Ye who guide the fates and furies, give, oh I give me, I implore 1 From the myriad hosts of nations, From the countless constellations, One pure spirit that can love me one that I,' too, can adore !" Through this fervent aspiration, Found my fainting soul salvation, For from out ita blackened fire-crypta did my quickened spirit soar; And my beautiful ideal Not too saintly to be real Burst more brightly on my vision than the f;i y-fo-med Leuore. 'Mid the surging seas she found me, With the billows breaking round me, And my saddened sinking spirit in her arms of lovo upbore, Like a lone one weak and weary, Wandering in the midnight dreary, On her sinless, saintly bosom, brought me to the heavenly shore. Like the breath of blossoms blending, Like the prayers of saints ascending, Like the rainbow's seven-lined glory blend our souls forevermore. Earthly love aud lust enslaved me, But diviuost love hath saved me, And I know now first and only how to love and to adore. Oh my mortal friends and brothers, We are each and all another's ! And the soul that gives most freely from its treasure hath the more. Would you lose your life you find it; And in giving love, you bind it, Like an amulet of safety to your heart forev ermore. MARRIED IN HASTE. " I demand this, because I consider marriage with such ji girl as I know Violet Du Hayne to be, the only hope left of reclaiming yon from ii life of dissipation. On no other condition will j. udvanoe the large sum for which you ask. In spite of all that has passed, Sjur still affectionate mother, " El'OKXIA AltDEN." Tho written page looked us hard and unchanging to Max's fancy as its au thor. There was that bill which Hardy Lad indorsed for him falling due within three days. It would be total ruin to poor Hardy if it was not met. That must not be. lie had drawn Hardy into this scrape, and he must see him harmless, at all risks to himself. Max strode up and down the room, biting his long, fair mustache. Marriage ! He had never seen his mother's ward. She had arrived at Arden after the estrangement between mother and son; but, at all events, there was no one i so he wanted to luarry. What a lovely face was that girl's he hadiiKjt at Mrs. Montfort's reception ! She had mad.; him feel like echoing Geraint's, "There, by God's grace, stands the one maid for me !" " l'shaw I" shrugging his broad shoulders. "A man could not be iu love with a girl lie had talked to for one evening, whose, very name ho had tailed to hear r 'Iunsi H hut iiie in retl iting? There was but ono course, open to him to save Hardy's honor and his own. He sat down, and dashed off in heavy black letters: "Mothkk: You arc usingtlie power given you by my father's will as yon have always done tyrannically. But 1 nave no alternative I accept vonr conditions on these terms : First, that the young lady be told that I nm marrying as my only means of obtain ing a sum of money which is a matter oC lif e and death to me. Secondly, that the marriage take place to-morrow nfternoon. I will run down to Arden on tho 3 o'clock train. You can have a clergyman waiting in the grand drawing-room, who can unitu the happy pair at once. Your son, "Max Annr.N." There never was a gloomier wedding. A heavy fall of snow hart impeded tho train, so that the early winter twilight was already f tilling when Max Arden stood in the great, dim room by the side of his veiled bride. The clergyman hurriedly repeated the solemn service. Tho responses were duly made, and it was done. " Embrace your wife, my son," said Mrs. Arden, with a vain attempt at cheerfulness. "AVi$ 1" cried the young man, draw ing himself up to his full height, with a flash in his eyes. " I have no wife. This young lady understands the terms of our bargain. I have made her Mrs. Max Arden to that you could compel me, mother but no woman shall bo wife in more than name to me whom I have not loved and chosen ay, and wooed on my bended knees. Is my horso saddled, Stevens? I return to town to-night. In the future, as in tho past, our paths lie separate. Scene the heart of tho Black moun tains. Time; September, when they ore at their loveliest. Dramatis per sona) for one, a tall young man, with a wide-awake pushed back from his good-looking, sunburnt lace, a gun over his shoulder, but little thought of shooting In his mind. He was peering through the boughs at what? Only a girl whom he had once seen in town, and of late watched many times from his leafy covert, feeling, as Olivia says, lier "perfections with an invisible and subtle stealth to creep in at his eyes." She sat on tho other side of tho mountain brook, busily sketching; and as he watched, her sketch-book fell into the little stream. In a second he had sprung after it, fished it out, and was presenting it with a low bow, saying: "May I not claim acquaintance by virtue of this happy chance and our last meeting?" " Our last meeting!" The young lady shrank from him in undisguised terror. , " Good heaven, Miss Harding! how have I alarmed you ? Do I look like a tramp In my shooting-clothes? In deed I am respectable. My name is Arden Max Arden. I had the honor of an introduction at Mr3. Montfort's reception, last winter." ;. A sigh of relief, then hesitatingly: " Oli, yes, 1., remember you quite well, Mr. Arden; but I I you must excuse me I ht'vo heard of you since then, and I I" " You have heard of me; nothing to my credit, I fear," he said, slowly, after waiting in vain for iter to finish, " and you wish to decline knowing me. Is it not so? Well, I must submit to your decision, bitferly as I regret it." Then he lifted his hat and left her. Now which of his wild doings had como to those dainty cars and brought this blow upon him ? for blow it was. He was surprised to find how severe a one. For, after all, what did ho know of her? And yet, with unreasoning intensity, he longed 'to look into her face once more, perhaps inquire the reason of tho soft, regretful gaze that hart followed ram as he turned away. Tatter ! patter ! Big'drops broke in upon his meditations. A true pelting, blinding, mountain storm was coming up. Arden hastened to take refuge in a small cave he knew of. Was it kind chance or irony of fate? The cave was occupied. A sketch-book, an umbrella, a slim serge-clart figure pre sented themselves to his view. He began to retrace his steps. "Don't go away," said the fair oc cupant, hastily. " I would not force my company upon you," he returned, stit'lly. 'Tray, pray, don't let me drive you out into this pouring rain," site en treated, "you are punishing me severely for my late rudeness. I was so surprised and frightened then I 1 scarcely knew what lsaid." She put out her hand to detain hil Like a flash Ardeu's mind wcac back to the last time soft lingers had lain in his on that strange bridal day. "If yoivgrant me shelter, it is equiva lent to accepting my friendship," he said, allowing himself to be drawn into tho cave and seating himself so as to shield her from the rain which now be gan to beat in. 'Nq', you might almost as well be outside as do that," said the girl, re proachfully. "What a deluge it is!" peering out over his shoulder. 1 ho damp air heightened her color and sent little rings of golden bro liair curling madly over her pretty forehead, her violet ey.'s shone, and her face it w;ts tho faircstr-thafr cer the sun shone on. . V Max Arden thought so as he an swered dreamily : " I wish it could last forty days!" " What a good conscience you must have!" gayly; "now, I should be too afraid of being drowned with the rest of the sinners." " Miss Harding " " Who told you my name was Miss Harding?" " My guide, Luke Smith. He claims to know everything." " He certainly seems to know a great deal." 6 " lam camping out near here, and seeing you so constantly, naturally in quired about you. It ia a lonely spot to see a lady." " I am staying at the Mountain house, six miles from here," she explained. " I drive over every morning to sketch this lovely glen, and the carriage comes for me again at 4 o'clock. I should be going to meet it now but for the rain." " Blessed rain !" murmured Max. The young lady frowned and ap peared to regret the momentary inti macy into which she had been drawn. There was a few minutes silence while she turned over the contents of her portfolio. Once more nature favored Max. The wind blew a loose sketch to his feet, which he looked at in amazement. " AVhy, it's me !" he cried, exultant and un grammatical, "and a capital likeness, too." " You you are quite mistaken In in any conclusions you may draw," stammered Miss Harding, blushing, and clothed with shame as with a gar ment. " You need not imagine I sketched you because that is you are not to think anything." "I don't. My mind i3 entirely vacant except for a strong desire to possess my portrait. You probably do not prize it very highly." " I do not prize it at all." "And I would give even unto the half of my kingdom for it." " Would you give that ring which looks like an heirloom ?" Instantly it lay in her hand. " Oh, no! I was only jesting. I cannot take it." "You must. You named your price and I agreed, so the bargain is concluded. It is an heirloom, as you supposed; and I rejoice to see it in your possession. I always meant" losing his head a little as he gazed at her llowcr-like face "to give it to the gin i lovcu; out now "Well, now?" she echoed, softly, with averted face. "Xow, I may never tell my love, because" with an effort "I am a married man." " Mr. Arden!" angrily "because of that foolish sketch you think that I You say this as a warning " " A warning to myself, perhaps." "As if you needed any!" " You are right. I am past that." He buried his face in his hands. There was a long silence. Then the girl said, in an altered voice: " The rain litis stopped ; I think I will go." Max Arden stood on the dark ve randa of the Mountain house listening to strains of music from the ballroom, and watching the dancers dancing in time for queen among them moved the girl ho loved. How more than fair site looked in her white evening dress. l'resently she seemed laughingly to dismiss her little court, and came out alone upon the veranda. Max stepped forward. He had to apologize for startling her, but he was afraid she was sick, he said, as he lad not seen her for so long. " Only a week," she answered, cheer fully. "It is my mother who was ill ; but she has roebvered now, thank you. So we tire going to-morrow." " Going where?" with an eagerness he could not repress. " Why should I tell you, Mr. Arden ?" with cold surprise. " That I may follow you. By what right? Because I lovo you." " So soon?" incredulously. " Ay ; ' even so quickly one may catch the plague," he quoted, with a bitter laugh. "And the pursuit of happiness is one of the unalienable rights of man, you know." " But when man fancies his happi :; stobe a woman and she does not like pursuit, has she no unalienable rights?" merrily. " Do not jest with me." She was silent for a moment. Then, fn soft, vibrating tones: " Xo, I cannot jest. I have some thing serious to say to you, Mr. Arden. I, too, am married, and, alas ! to a hus band who casts me oil. Hush, and listen. I was persuaded into a htisty marriage, partly by love of his mother, partly, perhaps, by interest in him, which she had educated me to feel. Besides, Io et him accidentally in so ciety and fancied I could like him. Max, lake your arm away. Believe me, I was not told by what means he wt(s forced into marriage ! AVhat ! kfteVling to me, Max? Suppose some one should come. Do get up." "Xt till Vou forgive me." "Welt in that case" with pretended 1 ......... . tt T 1... I - ; reluctance i mm ueiLer rorgive you at on-."- M m. i.f nut live .tears since iax mar ried ia hjistubut lie has not yet re- i penieii ft leisure nor has his wite. LADIES' DEPARTMENT. A Glnnce at the Belle ofEnrly Agra, Undoubtedly there is much idle talk about tho wonderful extravagance of ladies of the present day, their pursuit of constantly changing styles, and the luxuries demanded by those who can, or think they can, afford the expense. One would bo led to suppose, in the absence of knowledge to the contrary, that these were things of modern growth. But just look at the " style " they used to put on in early ages, and their enormous extravagance. We are told that the ladies of Lesbos slept on roses whose perfume had been artificially heightened. And in those times court maidens powtlered their hair with gold. Marc Antony's daughter did not change her dress half a dozen times a day, as do the Saratoga graces, but she made the lampreys in her fish-pond wear earrings. The dresses of Lollia Paulina, the rival of Aggripina, were valued at $2,004,480. This did not include her jewels. She wore at one supper $1,5G2, 500 worth of jewels, aud it was a plain citizen's supper. The luxury of Pop paea, beloved by Xero, was equal to that of Lollia. The women of the Roman empire In dulged in all sorts of luxuries and ex cesses, and these weie revived under Xapoleon I. in Trance. Madame Tal lien bathed herself in a wash of straw berries and raspberries, and had her self rubbed down with sponges dipped in milk and perfumes. Ovid says that in his day girls were taught to smile gracefully. The beauties of ancient times were just as vain as modern belles, and spent the greater part of the day at their toilet. The use of cosmetics was uni versal among tliera. Aspasia and Cleopatra (models of female beauty, it is said) both used an abundance of paint, and each wrote a treatise on cos metics. Cleopatra used bear's grease to keep her hair from falling out. Roman ladies were so careful of their complexions that to protect them they wore masks. The Atlienian women of antiquity were very studious of their attitudes and actions, and thought a hurried and sudden step a certain sign of rusticity. We have certain styles oi beauty nowadays; so had the Greeks They went wild over tho "ideal chin" neither sharp nor blunt, but gently un dulating in its outline, and losing it self gradually and almost insensibly in the fullness of the neck. The union of the two eyebrows was esteemed by the Romans as a beauty. It is said they admired the air of dignity it gives to the face. An Albanian belle of the day pre sents a rather striking appearance. She is, as a rule, gayly coifed with seed pearls and coins, and enveloped in a black serge pelisse. She uses paint on her face profusely, and her taste runs to cherry lips and cheeks and jet black eyebrows strongly drawn. An Alban ian bride discards paint for a while, and if wealthy wears a suit something like this: Rose-colored under robes, with an over-robe of dark green velvet, the idea being taken from a rosebud half folded in its leaves. Thus arrayed, the girl of handsome features is said to look really bewitching. The Tartars despise prominent nasal appendages, and the woman who has the smallest nose is esteemed the most charming, but to outside barbarians she is a perfect fright. The women of Spiti, in India, wear tunics and trousers of woolen stuff, with largo boots, partly of leather, partly of blanket, which come up to the knee, and which they are fond of taking oil at any time. In order to get greater warmth they often put a quantity of ilour into these boots. Their taste in regard to ornaments runs much to all sorts of rings, in cluding nose-rings. A typical woman in tho interior of iiinca is inus uescnneu: "Iter skin was leathery, coarse and wrinkled; her figure was tottering and knock-kneed; her thin hair hung in greasy locks; on her wrists and ankles she hart almost an arsenal of metal links of iron, brass and. copper, strong enough to hind a prisoner in his cell. About her neck were hanging chains of iron, strips of leather, strings of wooden balls, and heaven knows what lumber more." I'nnlilua Nolrs. A great deal of red will be worn by little people. Street costumes are either very gay or very sober. The fishwife's poke is the novelty for little girls' wear. Arabi red is the newest and liveliest shade of this color. Tan-colored, long-wristed loose gloves are the first favorites of fashion. Plush artificial (lowers and leaves are striking, elegant novelties in millincYy. Plush is as frequently used for child ren's dressy wraps as for larger people. Little girls wear pelisses similar to those of their mothers and older sis ters. Little girls' dresses are even more quaint and picturesque than in sum mer. Fashionable women wear laced shoes, but the button boot is by no mi ans discarded. Combinations of materials in con trasting colors appear in Paris imported costunies. A skirt of bright plaid fcorn with a jacket of imperial blue makes a very at tractive costume. Jersey waists in new forms will bo worn by little children, and to a limited extent by ladies. English walking hats are trimmed with birds and bows of velvet and have long streamers of ribbon ,at the back. The clematis of the East is taking the place of the wistaria, holding its bloom longer and being more hardy. Close toques and English hats, that have been worn for driving all summer abroad, are now heralded in Xew York. Copper shades with electric blue; strawberry red with rifie green, and brown with green, are the contrasts of color favored for autumn toilets. Castellated edges make a tasteful finish for basques and skirt-front breadths of cloth andashmere dresses. They are made more effective by being welted with a cord or fold of bias silk. Xew basques are single-breasted. When ornamental bust drapery is added it takes the form of a long guimpe, or a short plastron, either square or oval, and made very full by gathers and folds. . Corded silks outnumber satins in im ported dresses. These are to make a long, slender overdress, with skirts of rich brocaded silks that have the figures of plush or velvet thrown up on a corded silk surface. Students', caps of velvet with a soft crown, a shirred band, a large bow in front, and a bird's wing on the leftside, are worn by young ladies, and are chosen to match the color of the costume with which they aro worn. Silk squares for the neck are doubled and pointed low in front, and the open space filled in with two frills of lace. Sky blue, crushed strawberry and crevette squares are used, with the edges scalloped or trimmed with lace or hemstitched. Velvet round hats with high, square crowns and straight brims in sailor shape, are becoming to youthful faces. They have two wide bands of velvet folded around the crown, and a dagger or arrow of gilt, bronze or silver is thrust in the band. Last year's dresses may be easily brought into style by arranging a panier draped sash of satin surah on the edge of the basque. The plaits of last year's basques are taken out and the seams are sewed up and bound to the edges. A surplice drapery of surah over the bosom is added, and the sleeves are trimmed to match, with a puff at the top, if the wearer is slender; a plaited scarf at the wrist if she be stout. The large buttons of last year are replaced by small round ones, the old buttonholes being concealed either by making the dress lap the other way, or if that cannot well lie done, by in serting a pointed vest or a plastron. Fashion authorities say that a great many plastrons or vests are to be worn, some embroidered, some plain, some plaited; these may be cither of the dress material, or with band of similar ribbon, which is more frequent, of the fabric used for trimming. The Origin of the Thibetans. The Thibetan legend of the origin of the people is that in the beginning only one man and his three sons lived on the table-land. They had no houses or tents, but led a migratory life, with out being troubled with the cares of ex istence, for the hind was not then des ert, or poor, or cold. Trees were grow ing which afforded choice fruits, rice nourished without man having to labor to raise it, and the tea-plant thrived in the fields that Buddha afterward changed into stony places. Thibet was then all the more a fortunate, rich land, because these four men, then the only living crea tures in the world, knew nothing of war and contention, but lived in unity and peace. At last the father suddenly died. Each of his sons wanted his body, .to dispose of it in his own way. This was tho first dispute. The corpse lay for some days on a largo rock, and the sons avoided one another. At last the eldest son made a proposition: " AVhy should we lie tdienated because a misfortune has happened to us all in common ? Lot us lie agreed and divide the body." They all accepted the pro position. The corpse was divided into thole parts, and each son took a part. The eldest son got the head. He went away toward the east and becamo the lather of the Chinese, who excel in craft and have great skill in trade. The second son was satisfied with his dead father's limbs. He also left his homo and settled where the great Desert of Gobi gives his posterity, tho Mongols, plenty of room; their char acteristic is restlessness. The youngest son received the breast and bowels. He remained in Thibet, and from him are descended the T'ubetan people, who aro distinguished in ordinary in tercourse by good nature, openness and cordiality, in war by courage and enthusiasm. -Popular Scu-w Moiitltly. "John, what is that scar on your chin?" "That scar? Oh, that's a relic of I ailxrisiu." By and By. What will it matter by and by Whether my path below was bright, Whether it wound through dark or light, Under a gray or a golden sky, When I look back on it by and by ? What will it matter by and by Whether unhelped I toiled alone, Dashed my foot againnt a atone, Missing the charge of the angel nigh, Bidding me think of the by and by J Whnt will it matter by and by Whether with langhing joy I went Down throngh the years with a glsd content, Never believing, nay, not I, Tears would be sweeter by and by ? What will it matter by and by Whether with cheek to cheek I're lain Close by the pallid angel, Pain, Boothing myself through sob and sigh, "All will be elflewise by and by." What will it matter ? Naught, if I Only am sure the way I've trod, Gloomy or gladdened, leads to God Questioning not of the how, the why, If I but reach him by and by. Ah ! It will matter by and by Nothing but this: that Joy or Pain lifted me skyward, helped to gain, Whether through rack, or smile, or sigh, Heaven home all in all, by and by. Margaret J. Preston. HUMOR OF THE DAY. There's very little or no oppositior to a red-hot poker. A boy is never so happy as when the family is moving and ho walks through the streets to the new house wearing a table on his head. Texas Hi 'tings. Asks a humanitarian : " Do you not feel for the poor fly, as cold weather approaches?" .AVe do? And if we feel where he is, he gets smashed flat t An exchange contains an article on " Young 'Women "Who Die Early." This frequently occurs ; but the cases of old women who die early are very fow indeed. A Chinaman has written a poem on a grain of rice. Let American poets follow his example. Grains of rice won't fill up a waste basket very f ast Boston Post. An easy job: Robinson (after a long whist bout at the club) " It is awfully late, Brown. AVhat will you say to your wife?" Brown (in a whisper) " Oh, I shan't say much, you know. 'Good-morning, dear,' or something of that sort. She'll say the rest." Quiz. " Well, how are you making it now?" we asked of a former merchant, who had abandoned a lucrative business to embark in stock speculations. "1 think," said he, " if I retain my health lor another year I will be able to retire on a very handsome incompetency." Saturday Night. - " She can work a fancy screen, Just the nicest ever soen, ta a style that all hor "culchahed" set en. chants ; But, my friend, 'twixf you and me, It would chill a man to see How she btitched a patch upon her old man 'a pants. The Judge. " I don't believe a word of it!" ex claimed Brown. "This theory that man descended from a monkey is all nonsense. The two races are no more alike than nothing at all. You can't tell me " "Oh, yes, I can," inter rupted Fogg; "the monkeys don't wear clothes." Boston Transcript. " See, here, my dear, how beautifully the sun brings out the dewdrops this morning. They glisten like like " "Like diamonds, pa. They remind me ever so much of some I saw yes terday." The old gentleman turned the conversation immediately, but the diamonds have got to be bought. Jioston Globe. According to the veracious New Orleans Picayune tho king of Holland sometimes walks all night in tho populous part of the Hague. "When lio reaches home he personally supervises tho frying of his potatoes, which he tiikes with several glasses of beer, lie. has a heap more fun than tho czar dares to have. This is the only crowned head on record who walks all night and fries potatoes all day. A traveler was leaning at night against a railing tit Harpcr'a Terry railroad station. A locomotive camo along "and he sprang lightly over the rail to escape possible danger. Ho thought it was a meadow on tho other side, but knew his mistake when ho struck in a muddy stream forty feet below. On being rescued lie was asked his name. " I wouldn't tell you my name for a thousand dollars," lie re plied; "describe mo as simply a fool." A pearl-making industry has sprung up in the Thuriiigian foivsts of Ger many, and a largo demand for tho goods from abroad has made a boom in wages. The secret of making tho so-called lack-luster" pearls was acci dentally discovered by a workman who put ono of tho original samples in his mouth and felt a tiny grain of sand upon it. I'li vious to this acids had been tried without success, but the lucky workman tried "rubbing up" the pearls with common sand, and in less than a week hundreds of his fellows wwe milking a living at the same work, and hand.nuuo goods i t produced that now lind a retuij &.flo iu the markets of the world.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers