SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. IX. The railroads in this country ki'l about 2500 and wound about 25,000 persons a year. Sixty years ago tho aggregate wealth of the United States was only $1,000,- 000,000; now it is $55,200,000,000. It is a fact worthy of note that al though a woman may be elected school commissioner in Missouri, she cannot vote for one. The Italian press is still indignant at the report of tho New Orleaus grand jury. Tho Popofo Romano says that it will be impossible hereafter for any civil ized country to mako a treaty with the United States based upon reciprocal pro tection of the lives of citizens of either country. Fruit growing is destined to be one of the most profitable farm industries in New England, predicts the Boston Culti vator. It must receive equal attention with our garden crops and our grain fields. Neglected, our orchards and vineyards will be tho refuge of insect pests. Intelligently cared for they will reward the patient and skilful husband man. It is said, laments Mututy'i Weekly, that the snake charming industry is on tho decline. It no longer affords an opening to girls who feel within them the promptings of a lofty ambition to earn two hundred dollars a week and their traveling expenses by dexterously toying with lethargic pythons, comatose boas, and cute, little spotted garter snakes. The public is wearying of an exhibition which, it has discovered, does not require a superhuman amount of bravery. It wants to see something really remarkable, entirely new, and absolutely unprecedented—such as, for instauce, a female mouse tamer. ro those persons who believe in the doctriueof retribution, muses the Phila delphia Record, tho death from hydro phobia in the city of Mexico of Oolonel Miguel Lopez, the betrayer of the Em peror Maximilian, will furnish a text. Lopez was Maxilian's trusted friend, and the godfather of his child. For a bribe of $30,000 ho gave the password to the troops of Juarez, so that they could enter the city of Queretaro; and the capture and execution of Maximilian followed. The wife aud children of Lopez left him; he was hissed on the streets; even beggars refused his charity and cursed him, aud for twenty-five years he lived shunned and despised, dying at last iu a paroxysm of madness. Poor Carlotta and the mis guided Maximilian have been amply avenged. The difficulty of obtaining a sufficient number of recruits of the requisite size has obliged both the French anil the Italian Governments to reduce the mini mum of their former standard by half an inch. A similar reduction became neces sary in 1796, and again after the Napoleonic wars, that devoured tho tall est men of France at the rate of 35,000 a year. The incessant wars of the Ro man Republic were, however, not fol lowed by any analogous results, observes the New York Voice, and the luxury and intemperance of the Empire did more to hasten the progress of physical degenera tion than the slaughter of a thousand battles. In France absinthe alone has, in that respect, probably done more mis chief than gunpowder. Tho Manufacturerf Record publishes a full history of the development of tho phosphato miuing interests of Florida und South Carolina. Since 1889, when one company commenced to mine phos phate rock in Florida on a small scale, this industry has developed with wonder ful rapidity, and the investments in phosphate lands, have been ou an enor mous scale. The Manufacturers' Record's list of compjiuies now operating there shows that over $12,000,000 has beeu in vested within two years, and that these companies now have a daily capacity of of 2000 tons of phosphate rock which will be increased shortly to 3000 tons by the completion of mining plants now under construction. In addition to these companies fifty-one others, with an ag gregate capital stock of over $21,000,000, have been incorporated to develop phos phate lands, but are not yet at work. In South Carolina there are twenty-eight phosphate mining companies, with an aggregate capital of $4,510,000, and the production last year was 537,149 tons. T'lere are also eighteen fertilizer manu f.ifturing companies in that State, hav it'., a capital pf nearly $5,000,000. THE PLOWMAN. When the tired plowman his plow-stock leaves In the growing eorn, as the sun. goes down. And the sky is as rich as a gleaner's sheaves In flowers of crimson and purple and brown, I will wait in tho rare and wondrous eves And watch, as the loom of the sunset weaves Its fabric of gold over country and town. And I think of the .springe that have come and gone Since we saw the shuttle across the blue That wrought in colors of dusk and dawn, When the musk of the sleeping roses flow On tho breath of the south wind over tho lawn, And the evening shadows were longer drawn, And the sun was low, and tho stars were few. And youth was fair in the lives we led. Its memories linger in this latter spring. And lore in the flowers, the books we read, The kiss sho gave me in the grapevine swing, In words and works, to be filled and fed On the wasted honey and wasted bread, Aud sung iu the songs she used to sing. Though tho lily and rose have lost their leaves In the ashes of summers of long ago, They come, through tho rare and wondrous eves, In the crop of love we used to sow, As rich as the garlands the sunset weaves When the tired plowman his labor leaves In the fragrant corn, and the sun 1b low. —if. A. Candler , in Atlanta Constitution. MY MAGAZINE FUND. BY E. O. HICE. Pour months before I was graduated from Wellesley College, some years ago, I was troubled with the perplexing problem of how to get u very nice gradu ating dress at a very low cost; for my father, a village merchant iu Maine, could ill afford to spend more money than was absolutely necessary for my regular expenses. "I do wish I could think of some way to earn the money for my dress," I said one day to my inseparable friend, Madge Bennett. "Why don't you write stories for the papers?" she asked, impulsively. "What papers?" said I with surprise. "Why, any papers—all papers—maga zines, quarterlies, literary syndicates— anything or anybody," she answered, springing to her idea in her usual enthu siastic way. "But I've no talent for writing," I | protested. "Yes, dear, you must have," she urged, effusively. "You don't kuow | how often I've stood enraptured to hear you goon telling some yarn that I know" (kissing me fervently) "hadn't a word I of truth in it. Oh, i know you could be ' a great novelist. Think of being pointed I out by strangers on the street as the cele- | brated Milhcent Warner, of Warner's I Falls! What rapture!" "But what could I write a story | about?" said I, ignoring her little reflec- j tion ou my veracity at times. "Write a love story. Everybody likes them," she answered. "But I've never had a love affair, and I never can have," I added, mournfully, "for there isn't a man in my town that I'd look at for a lover, and you know I've got to stay at home while the other girls take their turn away at school. I know it's predestinated that I shall be 1 an old maid, but I don't like the out- j look," said I, telling a literal truth for j once at least. "'Tisn't of the least consequence,"' I Madge said, encouragingly. "People I never need to kuow about the subjects j they write about. Why, all the books about the management of children arc written by old maids; and do you sup- j pose that the people who write about j Lord This and Lady That ever saw a real lord, even with an opera-glass?" "I don't know," said I with simplic- I ity. "Why, of course not," she rattled on; ' "half the stories of travel and adventure are made up by men who have never been outside of Coney Island. Indeed, the less you really kuow about a subject the better off you are, you see, because you're not hampered by facts and your imagination can have full scope." "I'm afraid I couldn't succeed that way," I said, musingly. "Indeed you could," she still asserted. "Last year my cousin, Joe Schuyler, who always has lived in New York and was just graduated at Columbia—not even a country college, like Harvard— took charge of the agricultural depart ment of a city paper while the regular editor went to Europe for three months, and he got along finely. He just hunted over the rural exchanges and re-wrote their articles, using a little different wording, that was all." "Didn't he make any blunders?" I asked. "No, not in the paper," she said; "but he did get into a bit of a scrape, for a farmtr wrote him asking for some explicit directions for using a new remedy for pip in chickens, and as Joe is full of fun, he wrote the farmer a private letter sending him a prescription about like this: Stutnpus wood uk, regular sh». Hatchetus, one application. Hhake well before using. This is an ataoluteaud instantaneous cure. So the farmer drove off five miles to the nearest town, to the drug store, where the clerk assured hira he'd been trifled with and that it was all a joke. That enraged the farmer and he took it LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, JUNE 26, 1891. into the county paper, which happened to bo published in that town, and the editor made the most of poor Joe's joke and all the county stopped their sub scriptions in consequence. But Joe didn't care." "Didn't the city head-editor care?" I asked. "Dear me I I don't know. Joe didn't tell me what he said- But, Millicent, do try. I know you could write a sweet love story, or a yachting adventure." "Why, I never was on a yacht in my life," I remonstrated. "But I assure you, dear, it isn't of any consequeuco if you never were. Now, if you'll never divulge my secret, I'll tell you that I am writing a story myself, and am doing just what I've advised you to do, for my story is named "A Night with Gamblers," and I've located it on the Mississippi River steamer. It's a thrill ing talc, and I've got to a place where one man is just going to stab mother." "Do read it to me!" I 1 gged; but Madge would not unlcrs J mid agree to write one with her; —a so this was the way my first attempt to write for the press came about. I took her advice. I not only wroto a love story, but I placed the lovers on a yacht and set them afloat in Georgian Bay—probably because I knew less of that sheet of water • than of most others. "That's all right," said Madge cheer fully. "Send it to some inland news paper. The editor himself won't know any more about it than you do. If he sends you fifty dollars—which I think would be a fair price—for your story, you won't care whether the yacht sails bow on or steru first, and if you do hap pen to get it wrong, folks will think the boat has got some new kind of a rig on her," So I got a fresh block of paper, wrote my title, "Love in Georgian Bay," and began my story. By night I had two pages written, and couldn't seem to think of anything to say next. Madge, too, still had her gambler "standing with up lifted hand ready to plunge his dagger," but some way she couldn't seem to end the situation ns she wished. Day after day we wrestled with these imaginary men. The girl of my talc was all ready and willing—l had no trouble with her; but I wanted my hero to suffer some severe heart experiences, and I found it no easy task to pull him into and out of his various difficulties. I wrote and wrote, and then would tear up my writing and try again. Madge, too, had her trials. Some days she shot her gambler and then she would revive him and stab him, and once she poisoned bim, but his stylo of death never seemed to satisfy her. 4 'lt must not seem melodramatic," she said; "it must, be a talc indicating great reserved power." Each day we asked each other with our first waking breath: "Will he propose to-day?" and "Will he be dead by night?" Finally a <lay came when we each re solved to end the suspense before night, aud in the recreation hour wc took our writing blocks and wandered off to a quiet place under the Wcllcsicy trees, agreeing to make some sort of an ending before wc went back; but tho gambler was still alive, and the willing maid was still trying to lure on the reluctant lover, when the sound of distant thunder came to our ears and a dark cloud rising in the west warned us to return to H shelter. , It gave us both a new idea, however, and we each resolved to work a thunder storm into our tales. The result was better than our hopes. The gambler was made to rush on deck just as a flash of lightning struck the smoke stack of his steamer, and he was knocked senseless and then robbed by his fiendish companions and cast over board, where "he sunk to rise no more." Mudge laid her tale aside with a sigh. "It will save sending for an under taker, anyhow," she said, "if I drown him instead of stabbing him; so, ou the whole, I think it's the better way." As for my couple, they are idly drift ing on an ebbing tide (I didn't know then that there was no tide in Georgian Bay), when dark clouds began to roll up, aud the muttering thuuder began to reverberate among the darkly wooded hills. They hastily rowed to the shore, t'ed their yacht to a tree, and began climbing a rugged precipice, while the maid clung in terror to the soul-tossed lover. It was too suggestive. He begged to defeud her through all life's pathway, and iu well-feigned surprise she mur mured her assent just as the first drops of the bursting storm fell and they leached a shelter. "It was a happy omen j of future days," were my closing words. "My maiden is ready to dou her soli taire diamond ring," I declared tri | umphantly to Madge, and we kissed each i other ecstatically. "I knew you could do it, Milly," she ! said. "Now, shall you sign your name to it?" "No, indeed," I replied; "I've de- I cided to use a man's name, for I think it would be more in accordance with my style of composition. I shall be known as George Warner." Madge said she did not shink from the public gaze. She would use her own name. We copied our stories carefully and sent them each to one of the two best known magazines, and then began to watch tho daily mail for an answer, j While we continually asserted to each other that we hadn't the least idea they would be accepted, we each were, in our own minds, as continually planuing as to how we would spend the fifty dollars ! that we duly expected to receive. Having heard from neither story at the find of a fortnight, we concluded that the stories had been accepted and were waiting to be published before being paid for, and settled back quite composedly in that conviction. Each day I planned a new way to spend my money. "Since we've leen so successful in these articles, let us write some more," said Madge; and we did. This time she took a love story, and had a West Point cadet elope with a Southern heiress, and then both of them went to the President to ask pardon, and he reinstated the cadet in tho military academy, at the same time allowing him to board at the hotel with his bride, to the envy of the whole corps. I told a true story about a French- Canadian boy from Three Rivers who caine to our own town to earn money for his widowed mother, and was crushed in a jam of logs, and how kind the rough men were to him, and how they sent him home to die because he longed so to see his mother once more. We wrote these stories rapidly and sent them to the two next best magazines of our choice. Madge said wc might just as well become known at once to tho world of readers as to limit our scope to the circle reached by any one periodical. In our imaginations we now had eucb earned fifty dollars more, and as the pro ceeds seemed to accumulate so well we decided to write all that wo could find time for. It made a serious inroad in my pocket money to obtain the needed stamps to send the articles away and also to pro vide for their beiug returned, and Madge suggested that we save this last expense, as it was evidently uncalled for. Then graduation time came, and wo had to leave each other and the place wo loved so much. We debated whether to write to all the various editors about our articles, and notify them of our cliange of ad dress, but finally decided to leave word with the postmaster at Wollesley and await results: I had been sorely tempted to run in debt for some graduating extrava gances, being sure I could pay for them out of my "magazine fund," as I now called my expected fifty dollar payments, but had bravely resisted the temptation, as it was contrary to all my home train ing, by thinking how happy I w&uld bo later to repay my father for somo of his generous outlay on my pleasure. When I got back to Maine I took our village postmaster into my confidence enough to persuade him to retain any letters addressed to George Warner, for delivery to myself alone. One after unother, in tho course of Jhe next six months, those various re jected manuscripts found their way back to Warner's Falls, and time after timo my "magazine fund" diminished corre spondingly. Daily I was moro and more thankful that I hact not left any debts to be met from that prospective income. A formal printed blank, statiDg with courtesy that my article was not avail able, accompanied each one but the one of the Canadian boy, to which the editor added in a foot-note the words, "If written with more care this would prob ably be accepted somewhere. Try your local paper." Madge wrote mo that all of her pro ductions had been used indue time to light her grate fires, but she was con vinced that editors were time-servers and could not recognize genius unless a big name were signed to an article. I now felt very humble, but re-wrote th» story suggested and sent it to our county paper with mauy misgivings. The editor wrote me a kind note saying that lie could not afford to pay for contribu. tions, but he would be glad to publish any good short articles seut him on those terms, and I soon had tho inexpressible pleasure of seeing my story in print, and of sending a copy of the paper to Madge, who unselfishly satisfied my long ing with her ready aud effusive, though truly genuine, sympathy and praise. Then I sent my first story, "Love in Georgian Bay," and another entitled, "The Bride of Castle Chalheur," but the editor returned them both with a note saying that they were not adapted to his paper, and suggesting that I send him several brief letters about college-girl life at Wellcsley; and he added; "Write simply about things you know about." I re-read all my silly, stilted stories, and, recognizing their utter troshiness, put them into the kitchen fire. I could not help letting a tear fall as I thought of the "magazine fund" with which I could never surprise my father's emptied purse. Some time afterward, however, I wrote Madge a long and true tale. The unexpected man had come to pass, even in our town that I had scorned, and the subject of my true tale was "Love in Warner's Falls."— Frank Biggest Fresh Water Fish. Tho biggest of fresh water fishes, the "arapaima," of the Amazon, in South America, which grews to six feet in leDgth, has teeth on his tongue, so that the latter resembles the file and is used as such. Some kinds of trout also have the same peculiarity. Fishes that swal low their prey entire have their teeth so supported on flexible bases as to bend backward, but not forward, in order that their victims shall not escape after they have been seized.— Boston Cultivator. "What is the deepest depth of igno. tfiuce?" asked the philosopher, musinglyi and the man of the world made hastf to answer: "It is the ignorance displayed by a railway official when there has bee* a wreck on his road."— St. Jvtc+iU New. Terms—Sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months HOW TRAINS ARE ROBBED. MILLIONS LOST THROUGH SYS TEMATIC PLUNDERING. The Men Who Commit tho Robberies —How H. Hit; Gang of Thieves Was Broken Up. Railroad managers have two grades of losses to contend with which involve not only a heavy expenditure of money but the constant pntroling of the lines by a corps of well-trained detectives and ex perts. Lost or astray cars, sometimes side-tracked and left to the exposure of the weather as a temporary abode for tramps, and oftener run off for other pur poses, keep a body of men busy all the time. A regular department has been created, with a chief and a corps of ex perts, whose duty it is to follow up those astrays anil return them to the com panies to whom they belong. The sec ond and more serious trouble to railroad corporations is the constant and system atic plunder of freight cars, the removal of valuable cargoes and tho hiding of the plunder. The latter is an adjunct of the astray cars, which the robbers run into the woods or other desolate places that darkness and secrecy may cover up their nefarious transactions. During a period covering fifteen years the larger corporations—like the Penn sylvania, Pan Handle, New York and New Haven, New York Central aud Erie roads—have been sufferers to the extent of millions of dollars from this grade ot thefts, and frequently the shrewdest and most expert detectives have been baflled for weeks and months iu running down the thieves, recovering their plunder and safely housing the perpetrators in State prisons. "Three grades of men commit the robberies on freight trains," said Private Detective L. A. Newcome. "They are tramps, who secrete themselves iu the cars and steal anything they can pick up; railroad employees, who band to gether for the purposes of plunder, and organized gangs of professional thieves, who reside in the big cities and make trips into the country, led by a local pal, who ascertains when a car-load of valua ble freight is to pass over a designated line." Perhaps the most extensive haul of plunder in freight-cars extended during a period of years in the sixties, and was checked through the exertions of the late railroad detective, Gilkiii'oi. There had been wholesale aud systematic rob beries of freight-cars on the Pittsburg, Cincinnati and St. Louis Road, better kuown as the Pan Handle route of the Pennsylvania system, extending over a period of three years aud involving a total loss to the Company of nearly or quite half a million dollars. Chief De tective Rue, of the Pennsylvania Com pany, aided by Gilkinson and his corps of well-trained detectives, set at work and labored day and night in search of the miscreants. It required two months of persistent labor to run down tho gang, audit unearthed the mostcxtensivc scheme of train robbery ever known. A local train was robbed and some of the detectives had the good fortune to be in liidiug when the gang was operating. They were railroad employes, and srib sequent developments showed that seventy-five or eighty crews practically were engaged in the scheme of plunder. The work was performed skilfully. The secreted detective saw the wire pulled out of the seal, tho door thrown back, the car entered and the plunder removed to a caboose, while the conductor pulled back the door, run the wire through the seal and then by a blow with a board the lock looked as if it had been tampered with. The plunder consisted of liquors, ci gars, organs, pianos, silks, ribbons, and other valuable packages. In one instance a freight car was couverted iuto a tem porary concert room. A conductor sat all night playing on a piano while his companions danced, drank, sang and smoked at intervals, and ate their sup per from the polished top of the valuable Grand. When this musical employee was arrested he was thumping a piano in a Pittsburg dive. The robberies in cluded everything except on anvil and a coffin. The plunder was sold to well know Philadelphia and Pittsburg "fence houses," and wives, sisters and sweet hearts were decked out with the stolen silks, gloves, laces and jewelry. When all tho details were prepared and the time for action arrived, the arrests began in Pittsburg in April, 1887. As the trains rolled into the big yards de tectives stepped forward, revolvers in hand, and the crews were handcuffed. The same course was pursued all along the line between Pittsburg and Colum bus. Over four hundred warrants were issued. Over one-fourth of the mon ar rested were railroad employees and keepers of "fences." One of the men who was arrested, a brakeman by the name of Baker, made a desperate attempt to murder an engineer. The engineers and firemen were not in the plot of robbery. Brakeman Young called at the jail to visit some of the prisoners and was arrested. He protested his innocence at first, but finally confessed, and a large amount of the plunder was found in his house. J. It. Duulop, one of the gang, made a full coufession and seventy-three of the men were implicated. Scores of the fellows were sent to prison.— Neji York World. The culture ot oranges in California dates back to the time of the old Mission fathers, who, it is sta.ed, brought the seed from Spain. NO. 37. TO-DAY. Be swift to love your own, dears, Your own who need you so; Bay to the speeding hour, dears, » "I will not let thee go Except thou give a blessing;" Force it to bide and stay; Love has no sure to-morrow, It only has to-day. Oh, hasten to be kind, dears, Before the time shall come When you are left behind, dears. In au ali-ionely home; Before in late contrition Vainly you weep and pray; Love has no sure to-morrow. It only has to-day Swifter than sun and shade, dears. Move the fleet vr e,s of pain; The chance we have i <'ay, dears. May never come again. Joy is a fickle rover: He brooketh not delay, Love has no sure to-morrow, It only has to-day. Too late to plead or grieve, dears, Too late to kiss or sigh, When death has laid his seal, dears, On the cold lip and eye, Too late our gilts to lavish Upon the burial clav; Love has no sure to-morrow, It only has to-day. —Congregationalist. HUMOR OF THE DAY. A darkness that may be felt—A black hat. Tho disinherited son is punished with a will. "We meet but to part," as tho comb jaid to the brush. The royal chef does things to the Queen's taste.— Pittsburg Post. It takes a very promp f man to be a hero to his tailor.— New York Herald. The lobster is not noted for its bash fulness; but it turns red on getting into "hot water."— Puck. It is nil odd thing that the temperate zone contains the hardest drinkers on the face of the earth.— Puck. "I say,Bill"(shouting to another sales man), "got any more of those diamond necklaces for $1.49?" — Life. The value of a compliment lies in its placing. "Heart of oak" is more pleas antly received than "woodcu head."— Puck. "Sweet nothings 1" he exclaimed soft ly, as he looked at the row of ciphers ifter the figure on the check.— Washing ton Post. "I'm going to write an immortal poem." "What's your recipe?" "In delible ink on asbestos paper."— ATunset/'s Weekly. So many people have the look on their faces as if they had been allowed one last strike at something aud missed it.— Atchison Globe. When a tramp is fortunate enough to get hold of the upper portion of a roasted fowl he generally makes a clean breast of it.— Texas Sittings. Parrott—"How many great titles end in 'or'—Emneror, legislator, editor " Wiggins (who lives in aflat) —"Yes, aud janitor."— Harper's Bazar. With the same finger with which she has just dashed a tear from her eye a woman artfully arranges a stray lock of hair on her temple.— FlUgende Blactter. "Man wants but little here below." That's all quite true, and yet, I'd like to see the mail that won't Take all that he can get. —Life. Mr. Jones (as the grizzly draws up on him) —"Oh! why can't I remember whether it's a grizzly or a brown bear that can't cliuib a tree?"— Hanard Lam pom. "What do you do with that baseball mask?" "Why, Johnny is very bad sometimes, and the only closet I have to shut him up in is where the preserves are safe."— Harper's Bazar. On four seats of a railway car. Amidst his traps, tho drummer sat. And wished he had but one seat more In which to place bis high silk hat. —Puck. One of England's advantages: "I do so love England," said De Peyster ecstat ically. "What do you so like about it?" asked Brouthers. "It's so English," returned De Peyster.— Brooklyn Life. "Nature rarely wastes, but sometimes slio does," said Mehitabel at the circus. "Look at the elephant, for instance. Two tails practically, and yet with a hide impervious to flies."— New York Sun. The milk of human kindness Is a gift supreme; ' But our impecunious friend • Always wants the cream. —Puck. Aunt Anu—"How can you be content to WBste your time reading these trashy novels? Just listen to this: 'They sat hand in hand, speechless with the sweet intoxication of first, love. Intoxi cation of first love! Bah!" Laura— "But, auntie, it must have been due to their ardent spirits."— lndianapolis Jour nal. A little five-year-old Irish boy in ono of our public schools tvas reproved by his teacher for some mischief. He was about to deny his fault, when she said: "I saw you, Jerry." "Yes," lie replied, as <|uick as a flash, "I tells tbira there ain't much yous don't see wid tliim purty black eyes of yourn." That was the soft answer that turned away wrath; for what lady could resist so graceful a compli ment?—Harper'* Youiuf People.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers