THE FOREST REPUBLICAN Ii pnbllahcd every WednaadaT, by J. Z. WENK. Olllos in Smearbaugh & Co.'i Building ELM STREET, TIONESTA, ra. Terms, ... tl. CO par Year. No nbicrlptlon received for a shorter period than three mnntlia. Correspondence aollelted from til prU of the country. No notice will be Ukca of enonvroom communlCRtlODi. RATES OF ADVERTISING. On Bqnire, one Inch, one Insertion.. 1 1 00 One f qnare, one Inch, one month I 00 (me Bquare, one Inch, throe months. 0O One Square, one Inch, one year 10 00 Two Sqnarra, one year It 00 (Jnarler Column, ono 5 cur to 00 Half Column, one yctr B0 00 Cine Colomn, one year ...........100 to I.gal advertisement! ten cent! ,n line each in ertioD. Jlarrtage and death notice fratta, All bill, for yearly advertisement, collected qnar. trriy. Temporary advertisements mail be paid in advance. Job work ah on delivery & VOL. XVIII- NO. 23. TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1885, $1,50 PER ANNUM. Ml .V: AMID THE WHEAT. Amid the wheat, amid the wheat, At morn tho sturdy gleaners greet What time tho moadow-lark upsprlngs, On buoyant wings, and soars and sings. The reapers whet their scythes in tune, Till dies the sunlit nf tornoon, Then homeward thread the laneways through Where grasses glonm with shimmering dewj While birds their vesper songs repeat Amid the wheat, amid the wheat. Amid the wheat, amid tho wheat, The poppies find a shy retreat; With every breeze that blows is blent Their aromatic, drowsy Roent That wafts the weary soul away Across somo wide, norial bay, Where shoreless realms of dreamland lis Beneath an iridescent sky: Such vistas ope to those who meet Amid the wheat, amid tho wheat. Amid tho whont, amid tho wheat, Who strays with frolic-loving foot? A little maid that comos to seo Whore dwells the braggart bumblebee; A little maid of summors fow, With laughing eyes of pansy huo, Whoae heart is like a morn in May, Whose life an endloss holiday: Ah I may It ever seem as sweat As now to her amid the wheat I Clinton Scollard. A BRIGHT FACE. CHAl'TEU I. My name is Henry Debson. I am not ashamed of tho name, even though it wns disgraced. My parents came to A r kansaw while I was very young. My father hating the idea of ever living in a town, settled in tho wilderness, where, after several years of toil, ho succeeded in opening up ono of the best farms in tho Stato. Jieing educated and refined, my parents were tho leaders of our neigh borhood society, and so familiar did our oumo become that wo were known far nnd wide. Just about the time I at tained my nineteenth year, my pnrcnts were tiikcn ill of a diseaso which was at that timo spreading over tho country, and in spite of tho best medical attcution that could bo procured they died, both on ths same day. As I was the only child, tho property, of course, came into my possession. Well, it is unnecessary to dwell upon this part of my eventful history, so I will ignoring several years proceed to rclato a painful experience. One day our neighborhood was shocked by the discovery that a Mr. John Maplo eon, one of tho most prominent men in the community, had bcea murdered. I was particularly shocked during the evoning before tho murder, for Mr. Ma plcaou and I had strolled together through tho woods; and, startling to contemplate, he was found near a certain old house where we had separated. Tho next day after the body wus found I was arrested, charged with tho crime, and. after an examination beforo a justice of the peace, I was remanded to jail to await the action of tho grand jury. It would be vain to attempt a description of my embarrassment of my indigna tion. Not until I saw myself surrounded by iron bars did I realize my awful situa tion. "What stung me most was that a man named Evans a m .n whom I well knew and who boro the reputation of being a gentleman swore that hosaw mo strike Mr. Maplcson near tho old house, but supposing that we were playing with each other, he paid no attention to the affair, but that in horror ho soon after ward discovered that Mupluson had been stabbed. lie did not stop at this he produced a knife which he and several other men had seen lying near the mur dered man a knifo bearing tho initials of my name. The grand jury found an indictment against me, and I was arranged before the circuit court. I sold my farm and employed able counsel, experienced lawyer?, who did everything they could for mc, but after a tedious trial I was tentencod to bo hanged. A more miser able, utterly disconsolate rami never s:it in a cell, waiting to be choked to death. Preachers came and prayed for mo, but my mind was so distraught that I could not fix it upon death. One preacher, a venerable old man, particularly impressed mc. "Oh, Mr. Debson," said ho, "usk tho Giver of all good to forgive your sins. Only a few more days now and you will stand at tho judgment bar of God. Let mo beseech you not to throw your time away. You havo friends in heavon, pray for the glorious privilege of meeting them. Do not think ot the tortures of death, but think of tho sublime life be yond the grave." "I am not guilty, Mr. Gray." "Oh, young man, do not hold out in such obstinacy. Do not, I beg of you, I implore you, do not perish with a falsehood on your lips." "I tell no falsehood when I swear that I am innocent." "Mr. Debson, you need not hopo for executivo clemency. You are very young, but the governor has refused to do anything in your behalf." "What do you want mo to do, Mr Gray?" "Acknowledge your crime and pray God for pardou." "I havo committed no crime." "Think of your perishing soul." "I am innocent." "I see, Mr. Debson, that it is useless to talk to you." "Yes; on that subject." "Hemcraber that day after to-morrow you must die." "All right." "Good-bye. I hope that the Lord may change your mind.'' When the good man had gone I mused during a long time over what he had said, yet there occurred to mo no thought ef regret that 1 had so plainly spoken to him. There is a strange resignation that oomei to a man who it condemned to die. Weary nights of contemplation dull his dread, take off the keen edge of fear. It is not a philosophy ; it is a "don't caie" which settles upon him. I was not afraid to meet the king of tho universe, nnd knowing that not a shadow of hope remained, I surrendered myself to on un just fate. I was not hanged. The governor, on account of my youthfulncss, commuted my sentence to imprisonment for life. Kven this wo indescribably awful, still, after thinking it over, I concluded that it was better than being hanged. I shall never forget how I felt when I first put on my suit of stripes. Tho thought that I was eternally disgraced took such deep root in my mind that I doubt it I were, at the time, any better morally than tho most hardened convict within tho walls. I began to hato tho world, to mock, within myself, tho very idea of honesty and virtue. Sundays we were compelled to listen to long ser mons, delivered by preachers not dis tinguished for eloquence. I sometimes thought that, knowing we could not leave the chapel, they took a peculiar dolight in lengthening their discourses. One day Mr. Gray came out, but be did not pay any special attention to mo. This stung mc, and as I sat on a bench look ing at him I won't say that I was listen ing to him I cursed tho old man. I ought to have been ashamed of myself, but I had forgotten the meaning of shamo. The uppermost thought in my mind was the thought of escape. I had lost everything but my desire for freedom. My chance came. Ono night while a number of us were penned in a stockade, near a coal mino, into whoso dark vaults we were daily driven, I heard one of the guards say to n companion that ho was so sleepy ho could scarcely hold his eyes open. "!?o am I," tho companion replied, "nnd, to tell you tho truth, I wouldn't be surprised if I do some littlo nodding to-night. Crawling over where several of my vilo associates lay, I communicated the intelligence which. I had caught. They agreeit with mo that our time had come. We kept tho secret closely guarded, knowing that a general rush would be fatal to our plans. Wo made our stealthy move about 2 o'clock in tho morning. Wo climbed tho fence with but little trouble. I passed near one of tho guards. He was sitting, leaned back ugainst a stump, and was sound asleep. I took his gun nnd box of cart ridges which he had deposited on the ground near him. We spoke not a word until we wcro fully a half mile from the scene of our imprisonment. Then we stopped and laughed. By the time the sun rose, wo were quito a num ber of miles from tho "stockade," but wo knew that wo would be pursued. Hunger began to pinch us. This was serious, for, dressed as wo were, we dare not go near a human habitation. The next day we stopped and hold a con sultation. It was better to risk re-capture than to go hungry, accordingly we de cided to call at the next house. We soon came upon a farm. Walking up boldly we entered the house. There was no one at home except a little girl, about twelve years old. She was the most beautiful child I have ever seen. Sho was frightened at lirst, but soon recover ing, she gave us something to cat. She exercised a strange influence on me. Her sweet face at once remiuded me that purity existed in the world. She took a special liking to mc,and when I hinted that I would like to have an old suit of clothes, that I was tired of wearing ugly stripes, she not knowing that she was committing a crime procured for me an old suit of clothes. At the gate I hissed her hand. My companions, three rile wretches, were not impressed by the littlo girl, and had I not possessed a gun I nm suro that they would havo robbed the house. We had not gone much farther when pursuers came within sight. Then there was a race for liberty. I was fleet, more so than the wretches. About the time night set in two of my fellow convicts had been captured. Tho other one kept close to me. A gun fired. I heard a yell. Looking around, I saw him fall. The darkness and tho dense woods pro tected me. Iescaped. Finding a canoe, I crossed tho river. The face of the lit tle girl was constantly before mo. CITAPTKU 11. I succeeded in making my way to New York. In tho great city I was compara tively sale. Under nn assumed name I went to work in a manufacturing estab lishment. I bent my every energy to the work, and, from time to time, I Was pro moted. Three years from the time I en tered the establishment, I was tho super intendent of the entiro works. My ser vices became so valuable that I wns ad mitted as a partner. I saved my money nnd beenmo wealthy, yet, not for a mo ment did I forget the crushing fact that I was a convict. One day, while on a ferry boat, I took up a newspaper which somo one had left on a chair. Opening it, I saw that it was r.n Arkansaw sheet. The next moment I was thrilled. Below startling head lines appeared tho following: "Several years ago, a highly respected young man named Henry Debson was convicted of the crimo of murdering one of our most prominent citizens, a Mr. Maples n. Debson was sentenced to be hanged, but tho governor commuted his seutenco to imprisonment for life. Deb son escaped and went, no one knows whither. Now comes the real tragedy. About a mouth ago, a man named Evans, who swore that hejiad seen Debson strike Mapleson aud who found, near the scene of the murder, a kuifo bearing the ini tials of Debsou's name, was taken vio lently ill. Believing recovery to be im possible, and feating to die with such a burden on his heart, he confessed that he, inspired by bitter enmity, had mur dered Mapleson. From the very mo ment of the confession ho began to im prove, and soon became so well that ho was taken to prison. After a short trial, during which he did not attempt to make a defense, ho was sentenced to be banged. Tho execution took place last Friday, and was witnessed by a largo crowd of people. The public deeply sympathizes with young Debson, and should he ever come back to the State he will receive an enthusiastic ovation. I cannot describe my sensations. I hurried to my place of business, and after relating to my partners, the experi ence through which I had passed, I showed them tho Arkansaw paper. My partners wcro rejoiced. Thcy'declared that such a vindication was worth half a lifetime of trouble. I immediately set out for Arkansaw. I indeed received an ovation. Mr. Gray, the old minister, took mo by the hand, and said: "I was intimate with your father and I did not see how his son could commit such a crime, but the proof was so strong against you. Your earnest protestations of innocence caused me to call upon the governor and intercede in your be half." I purchased the farm where I had spont a happy childhood. Every ono was desirous of bestowing honors upon me, and the governor himself, came out, and in the presence of a great crowd thanked tho Lord that a great wrong had been averted. During all this time I had not ceased to think of the littlo girl whoso beautiful face had banished my inten tions of becoming an outlaw. I had gone to the house where I had seen her, but her father, a Mr. Miller, had moved away, and no one in tho neighborhood knew his place of residence. One night at a theatre in Little liock, I saw that face. I knew it in a moment. At tho conclusion of the performance, I fol lowed the girl, who in company with an old man, went to a hotel. I introduced myself to Mr. Miller and he introduced me to his daughter Ida. "I have seen you before, somewhere," she said. "You have seen me." "When?" "I will tell you when we become bet ter acquainted." I did tell her told her one night when sho had promised to be my wife. Sev eral years have elapsed since our mar riage. We live in New York most of the time and old man Miller lives with us. 1 have built a monument abovo Mr. Gray's resting place. Artansaie Trav eler, The King or Dudes. Berry Wall is the king of dudes, says a New York leteer. This sovereignty in the matter of dress is tho unique menus the young man employs to dispense with an income of over $500,000 a year. A gentleman, who has known this eccon tric spendthrift for years, met him nt Saratoga recently. During the past month he has replenished his wardrobe with the most marvelous variety of gar ments ever made for man's back. It is said that, after a long career among the toilers of the world, this fastidious dresser has finally decided that no one can excel the fit and style of the clothes made by a New York firm. Poole, by special permission, allowed to refer to one of us II. M., the Prince of Wales as a customer, if superseded by this ar rangement. JJlr. Wall s hnppiest mo ments are when he is astonishing a gap ing crowd by his attire. Just to give them something to wonder at he will change his costume three or four times an hour. When conscious that he is being pointed out as the beau of the fashion plates, he will excuse himself from his friends for a space of five or ten minutes to return in a spick:and span outfit of an entirely dilierent de sign. The transformations in dress are made by two valets, who are always oc duty in his apartments to strip and re habilitate him as they would a dummy model in a millinery store. The fellow is not bad at heart, as liberal as a profli gate prince and nobody's fool by any means. This penchant for clothes is simply an expedient for spending money and killing timo. Grant as a Smoker. The general, In speaking of the popu lar idea that he was a lifelong smoker, said that prior to the battle of Shiloh he rarely very rarely smoked ; and that it had never been a habit, much loss a pleasure. At the battle of Shiloh he chanced to smoke a cigar whilo riding over the field, and the newspaper corre spondents, seizing upon the incident, described it graphically in their accounts of the battle to tho papers in tho North. Tho idea of a victorious commander of a great army, in tho midst of frightful scenes of carnasro and destruction, sur rounded by the dangers of battle, with a nation's life hanging on the result, look ing on calmly and surenely.complacently smoking a cigar, when most men would bo overcome with excitement, if not nervousness, was something that appealed irresistibly to popular admiration. Grant's admirers and friends, reading the ac counts of the battle, supposed him to bo a great smoker, nnd almost deluged him with cigars. Every express brought boxes of cigars as presents from his Northern friends. As the general said : "There were always two or three boxes on tho table in my tent or headquarters free for the use of my staff and visitors. Having them always at hand, it was but natural that I should every little while take a fresh cigar, and in that way the habit grew upon me so that it became ir resistible, aud the people no doubt are right in calling me an inveterate smoker." Cincinnati Commercial (Ja zette. Nel Buntlino hut written four hun dred serial stories. CHICKENS BY MACHINERY. IBB BTJSIWESS OV FRODTJCI1TG POULTRY rSOM INCUBATOR. An Industry Whlrh l Extending- Food for the Chirks A Chicken Itancu In Iew Jersey. "Tho outlook for tho incubator and poultry supply business is first-rale," said a well known dealer in responso to inquiries made by a reporter for the New York Mail and Kjpreis. "There are many new parties coming in every day now looking at machines who iiitend starting in the chicken-raising business this fall to make a regular trade of it. Incubators increasing in number? Yes, sir; there aro in the market from twelve to fifteen machines of dilierent patents. We have here in our store eight of the leading ones in constant operation night and day. The prices range from $:0 to $:i00 each, with a varying capacity from fifty to 2,000 eggs. As a rule, a first-class incubator hatches from eighty to ninety per cent, of the fertile eggs that are put into it. Most of the machines are auto matic in their regulation, so that they require very little care." "How much capital does it require to start in the chicken-raising business?" was asked. "1 know of one party whose capital is $100, and of another whom wo fitted out the capital for whose stock was $40,000. All tho eight machines that we keep are hatching chickens every day. These we send to our chicken ranch at Franklin, N. J. Some days our machines hatch out as many as U00 chicks. Yes, the chicken raising business is a new indus try that has sprung up within the last two years. But aside from those who go into tho business as a business there are many wealthy men, owners of coun try seats, who have gone into it for the novelty of the thing. But you will be surprised when I tell you, and statistics will prove the truth of the statement, that the poultry industry has now be come one of the largest industries in this country, and amounts to moro than even the trado in wheat. Even now there is not a sufficient supply of eggs in the market, and it is necessary to im port them in large quantities." "Has not this growth of the business increased the demand for poultry sup plies?" "Yes, very largely. Among tho arti cles in great demand is ground bone and oyster shells, which is fed to the chicks. Why, we sell at least fifty tons of this material a year, and the demand has made a new way of disposing of bones and oyster shells. Not long ago a man started a manufactory at Y'onkers, for the especial purpose of grinding bones and oyster shells for the chicken trade, and he has a big trade in it already. It has also made a great demand for wire netting for fences to poultry yards. The other day we sold and put up for one party a mile of this wire netting." "You spoke of a chicken ranch. What is it like?" "Ours at Franklin covers six acres of ground. It is enclosed by a fence about six feet high. It contains a num ber of wooden buildings, built especially for chicken raising. One of these measure sixty by eighty feet and is twenty feet high. It was originally built for the fattening of poultry. It is divided into pens for docks of chickens of dilierent breeds. The pen measures about ten by twenty feet, and each con tains nest boxes, roosts and feeding troughs. Another building on the ground is long aud narrow, ten feet by fifteen, nnd is divided into pens, the same as the other. Still another is forty by fifteen feet, which we use principally for ducks. It has a small pond adjoin ing. On a knoll back of these buildings we keep a large number of the artiliciul brooders for young chicks taken from the incubators at tho store. They are kept in theso brooders four weeks" and are then old enough to be put in with the larger stock." "What is the capacity of such a ranch?" "Without crowding it will accommo date nicely 1,000 full-grown fowls, 8,000 young chicks and 1,1)00 ducks. Tho cost of such a ranch complete, without the land, is auout $3,000. One man aud a boy can attend to it nicely. Their du ties are to feed and water the fowls regularly and keep the buildings thor oughly cleaned. If this is properly done it keeps the fowls in perfectly good health. Such a business, properly carried on, will yield a profit of at least one hundred per cent, on tho capital invested, and even that is a low estimate. Take fancy-bred fowls and they bring from $1 to $10 a piece, and I know a man who has a partridge cochin cock which $100 couldn't buy. Then tako broilers. They are worth to day, and it is the dull season, twenty two cents a pound live weight. Each one will weigh two and a half pounus.and the cost to raiso it is not over fifteen cents. In winter tliey bring from fifty to sixty cents a pound, or $2 a pair. The demand for eggs for hatching is great and a large part of our business is to supply eggs for this purpose. In fact cur ranch is carried on for raising thor oughbreds, not for market poultry. Do we allow visitors? Yes, we set apar Fridays for any who want to see the place. But there have been a number of such ranches lately started in tho neighborhood of this city. One on Long Island conducted by a stock company is the largest. Tho capital interested is $40,000, and the place is conducted for tho exclusive production of broilers. It has now a capacity for hatching 7,000 eggs, and they are putting up more buildings, so that the place will have a capacity for hatching out 1,000 chickens a day. They find the business profitable, and their trade is in this city. Another somewhat dilierent ranch is one in New Jersey, which is devoted to the produc tion of eggs exclusively, its owner hav ing contracts with parties in this city. The man who ownt It ttartcd the busi ness three years ago, with a capital of just $23. He hat now 1,000 layiug bent and his present buildings cost him $3,000, all of which he made out of the business. Yet, all this time lie hat been engaged in regular business in this city and hat come in every day." Cookery In China. Our kitchen certainly it not to cosy and neat at American kitchens usually are. Tho smoke goes out through the skylight and wherever it finds an outlet. Tho walls are black with the accumula tion of years of soot. That largo stove in the corner is built of brick. On the top of this stove is a large round Iron spider about three feet in diameter. In this rice is cooking. Straw, being cheaper, is burnt in this stove instead of wood, and some one is required to feed the fire constantly. Turning to tho left we see little clay stoves, on which food is frying in spiders or boiling in earthen pots over a wood fire. Vegetables arc cut into bits and boiled with pork or mutton, making a soup. Greens are boiling. Fish is steaming, frying or stewing, with or without vegetables. Meat is cut fine; when tho spider be comes heated lard is put in it, then pieces of onion, then the shred meat, and all is stirred till well embrowned; then turnips, potatoes, and sometimes other vegetables are added, and after boiling water is poured in tho whole is left to simmer and stew. All food, we observe, is cut in pieces before being cooked, or else before Bcrving, for no knives, no forks, are used. At ten a. m. tho tables are set; those for men either in the wings or in their rooms, and thoso for the women in their common sitting-room or parlor. Each table will seat eight persons. No table linen is used. Chop sticks and spoons are laid before each Elace. The food is brought in large owls or plates. Hice is carried to the table in a wooden pail or wicker basket, from which it is served in small bowls. The servants summon the inmates to breakfast. The younger ones do not presume to sit til their ciders are seated ; then, after making a show of asking permission to eat, when tho elders gravely nod assent, the breakfast begins. Soup is taken first; then each person, holding the chopsticks in the right hand and the bowl of rice in the left, lifts his food to his mouth and pushes the lumps : ; . l - .1 , .11 . .L. iu wim iub bucks, alternating mis mo tion with picking meat, fish or vegeta bles from tho dishes common to all. One must take only from that side of the plate which is nearest to him, however; it is a breach of etiquetto to reach over to the opposite side. When one finishes ho bids the rest "eat leisurely," which is our mode of saying "excuse me." The Chinese invariably wash their hands and faces after every meal. Tea is drank about the same time. It is taken without milk or sugar. Coffee is not common in China, and we are not ac customed to drink cold water. Tea is tho national beverage, and is taken to assuage thirst at all times and occasions, as water is in America. At noon a lunch of cakes or pastry may be served. The majority of people are sat isfied with two meals a day. Supper or dinner is served at 5 r. m. Yun Phon Lee in Wide Awake. Squatters in the Metropolis. On the eastern side of this city, says a New York letter to the Philadelphia Press, there is a village ot squatters, who have taken temporary possession of un used sites on a hill, and have erected shanties which serve at once for pigpens, hencoops, bedrooms and living rooms. They enjoy the privilege of squatters in having no rent to pay, but they are ex posed to the penalty of being, at any moment, turned out from their dens and losing land and house at once. Usually they remain while the quarrymen who are opening the streets almost undermine their shanties, and then, if the buildings are not blown away, they pull them down and pack them away like tents to another dwelling place. Tho village is filled with snarling dogs, which aid in draw ing the swill or coal carts, for the chil dren are mainly employed in collecting swill and picking coals through the streets. Tho shanty family are never quite so poor as the tenement house fam ily, as they have no rent to pay. But the filth and wretchedness in which they sometimes live aro beyond description. The peo ple have very littlo regular occupa tion, many being widows who do occa sional "chores" in families; others live on tho sale of the coal their children gather, or on the pigs which share their domicile; others keep fowls, and all have goats, though where tho profits from these latter come I could never dis cover, us no ono seems to buy tho milk, and I never heard ol their killing them. Money, howover, in some way they do procure, and one old red-faced swill gatherer who died left, it was said, a largo deposit in tho savings bank, which no one could claim; yet one corner of her bed chamber was fillod with a heap of ill-smelling bones, and tho pigs slept under her bed. There is another old ragpicker whose shanty is a sight to behold, all the odds and ends of a great city seem piled up in it bones, broken dishes, rags, bits of furniture, cinders, old tin, useless lumps, decayiug vegetables, ribbons, clothes, legless chairs and currion all mixed to gether, and heaped up nearly to the ceil ing, leaving hardly room for u bed on the floor, where the woman and her two children s'eep. Yet all these are marvels of health tud vigor, far surpassing most children in the comfortable classes. Horses trot best when the temperature is eighty degrees. Old St. Louis families use negroes ii pallbearers, MAN'S A KICKER. Give to him power and friends and wealth, Give to him lore and home and health, Give to him ease and peace and Tost. Give to him all that makes life blest, Give to hira what the h jart most craves, What makes the freeman more than slave, What makes the patriot tried and true, What lifts the martyr to the blue, What mold tho hero from the dust. And shapes him for the noblest trust; Give him his choice ot youth or age, The manners that do moit engago, The poet's fire, the painter's art, That burns the brain or moves the heart; Or give him all the things to eat, The ripe, tho luscious, sour or sweet, And add to these flesh, fish or fowl, Tjju listen and you'll hear him growl For man's a kickor, Give to him sorrow, griof and care, The sorest crosses man may boar, The roughest paths, the blackest woe, A heaven in which there Is no bow Of promise, and in which the clouds Enfold the light like funeral ihrouds; Let sickness, death and every ill Which makes enrth bitter lay their chill, Cold hands upon him. Let his life Be one unending hideous strife, A wilderness where jackals howl ! It's all the same. You'll hear hira growl For man's a kicker. Merchant-Traveler. HTJJIOK OF THE DAT. Is a hotel waiter girl made to order! "How sleep tho brave?" asks a poet. This depends largely on tho number of cats in the neighborhood. A bar in the river and a bar on shore havo tho same name, because water it scarce in both places. Merchant- Trav eler. The difference between the human race and a horse race is disappearing. You can't bet on either, nowadays. Philadelphia Call. "Moire antique sashes six or eight inches wide are becoming more popular," but they should not bo worn by the more antique ladies. KorrUtown Herald. Child "Mamma, I want some raisins." "Very well, take a handful." "A hand ful? Oh, won't you give them 10 met your hand is larger." German Jokt. An exchange says that there is a large falling oil in the population of the west ern part of Massachusetts. The bicycle is bound to mike its way everywhere. Burlington Free Prets. A boy will eat, and a boy will drink, And a boy will play all day, But a boy won't worn, and a boy won't think, Because he ain't buiit that way. Chicago Ledger. The story that the site of Chicago was bought for a pair of boots is not sur prising when we consider the size of the accepted boot in that locality. This probably gave rise to the remark that corporations have no soles. Lye. The Afghans eat onions as wo do ap ples. Tao cause of tho recent attack by the Russians can therefore bo easily understood. They were obliged to use their guns to keep tho Afghans from coming within hailing distance. New York Hun. In the days that are wintry and chilly, When with bills we are driven nigh daft, We're pained on reflecting how illy We honor a draft. But in summer when all wonder sadly Why no cooling breezes should waft, It's worthy of notice how gladly We honor a draft. The Rambler. A poetess asks, "Oh where does beauty linger?" We think that we are breaking no confidence when wo reply that in these artistic times it generally lingers on the toilet table until the girl putt it on with a brush and a powder puil. The Runbler, "Did not the sight of the bound less blue sea, bearing in its bosom the white-winged fleets of commerce, fill you with emotion?" "Yes," replied the traveler, "for a while it did, but ulter a while it didn't fill me with anything. It sorter emptied me." Sifting. The farmer leads no E Z life, The C i sows will rot; Ami whon at E V rests from strife His bones all A K lot. . In D D has to struggle hard To E K living out; If I C frosts do not retard His crops there'll U A droughts The hired L F has to pay Are awful A Z, too; They V K rest when he's away Nor any work will do. Both N Z cannot make to moot And then for A I) takes gome boarders who so It, T eat & E 110 money makes. Of little U C finds this life; Kick in old A (i lies; Tho debts he O Z, leaves his wife And then in 1' C dies. . C. Dodge. A Captured Devil Fish. Immense crowds of people gathered at tho beach ut Galveston, Texas, one day recently to see a devil fish that was cap tured on the previous day. For some days past a school of marine monsters had been seen disporting in the gulf a short distance from the shore, and all ellorts to liurpoou or capture them proved 1 utile until ono was caught in a fishing seine. Hopes were thrown nronud the monster, and, with horses, it was dragged ashore. It proved to be a specimen of a very rare fish, tho "Cephaloptera Yanipy rus," ulso called devil fish aud vampire of the ocean. Its weight was about two tons, and as it lay spread out on the beach dead, it had every appearance of an enormous bat or vumpire. It was fully sixteen feet wide from the extromo edges of the pectoral this aud fourteen feet lon. The mouth was four feet wide, and was protected on eithjr side by formidable appendages resembling Inn us, with which it scooped in food.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers