LOVE SONG. Oh, better than stars or sun. Oh. better than moon or foara Of the broken wave In summer care When the green sea thunders home: Oh, better uan swallow's flight O'er the clear stained dawning pale, Or the long delight thro' the rose-sicep ed night Of the love-drunk nightingale; Vea!—better than angel's song That wins with a love divine— Is the light that wakes In thine eyes when breaks My soul from my lips to thine. THE GRAY TOWER. What I am going to tell you Is not really the whole of the tale, but only the first chapter; yet It is a good story In itself, and there are some things which make me unwilling to say all I know, at least in print. The Gray Tower was the southeast corner turret of that stone building which • stood until quite recently on Waveriey place, at the corner of Wash ington square. It nad a picturesque effect as you walked down University place from Union Square, and it was almost the only romantic building in New York. My first chapter opens on a winter's day about 1800 or 1592, if 1 recollect rightly. It was snowing heavily as 1 stepped Into Broadway, and I turned up my collar and stood a moment ir resolute. The old horse cars jangled by with v-eir bells muffled in the snowy storm; the tall newspaper offices across City Hall square twlukleii and shone from their thousand windows, and 1 was slowly turning toward the Park place station, when I saw what I guessed, even at that distance, to be a familiar figure cross the brilliant light of one of the highest windows on the other side of the square. It was Collins. No one e'se moved about a room in just that loping, darting man ner. I knew it was his office, and 1 knew he was the very man I wante'l to see before dinner. 1 hurried over to Park Row and was shot up to his floor. "Hullo, old man; busy?" "No, no; come In." Collins sat under an electric light, a pair of shears in his hand and a sea of papers tossing round him. He part ed the red hair back from his forehead with his left hand, and looked up quickly with that childish, gnome-like smile, and the piercing, glittering, blue eye-light, that his friends knew so well. Suddenly he dropped the shears and ran his long, conspicuous hand hurridly through the stack of old pa pers he had been clipping. "Look here, look here! This is what you ought to see! Where is that copy?" "What are you looking for?" "Something I found this afternoon. It's a romance; a whole story of forty years ago; the most startling piece of fiction in real life. And not a "scare head' to it! O, those felows didn't know how to make up a paper!" (Fumbling all the lime and rummag ing with that aggressive hand.) "Now, I have lost it. Where in the name of seven—" Then he swore feverishly In a high minor guttural. "Ah. here it Is. Look at that, look at that!" His eyes were like glowing steely gimlets, and the perspiration started on his temples in his excitement. It was nothing but an old scrap of un believable romance he had unearthed. It had no possible use to him. Hut he was always a tinder-box of en thusiasm, and fired like a child at small things. Collins has no particular part in this story, yet I can never dis sociate him from it. Its strange un explainable quality has a certain kin ship with his half-canny personality, so that I never recall it without feellug his eyes burning Into me with in credulity and delight and defiance and mockery, as he handed me that torn issue of a New York Journal of half century ago. As he said, they made little displav of startling matter in those days, an.l the story, as I remember, was "told ill that brief, sober way which has since become almost extinct among news paper men. Briefly. It was an account of a strange discovery made by some work men who had been repairing one of the towers of the old building on Washington square. In making their renovations they had come upon a dis used closet, whose door had been bricked up and roughly plastered over. On the closet floor, covered with im palpable dust, clothed In her silk even ing dress, lay the beautiful specter of a woman. I say specter, for It seems destruc tion had come upon her so gently, so furtively, that her body.was almost unmarred. except for the dinginess of where she lay, or there had been some time. There are records of such iu stances, showing that dissolution is not always swift to follow death. But whether the present case had been due to the sealing of the narrow room chemical treatment of her body and garments after death, was all surmise. But there was the tact. On the dusty floor, in a "little apartment scarcely larger than an ample bath, as if she had fallen In a faint, with one arm spread abroad and the other hand uf her throat slept young beauty, arrest ed in mid pleasure (so she looked), and he.d there in duress while the busv round of life rumbleu in the streets below. It must have been the very pathos and wistfulness of beauty—the image of that shadowy loveliness, snatched away from the midst of Joy and ga.vety. so untimely, and not even allowed the common boon of oblivion. Where was she all this while, the radi ant spirit who had dwelt in that come ly tenement? Had she herself, too, like her frail, -ndestructlble person, been held in suspense somewhere, neither among the livirg nor the dead? It was white, white silk and a mass of white lace, that she was dressed in. And under the soil.ire of dust the pale gold of her hair was shining and alive. But the only clew to b*r Identity was the small cambrl * handkerchief, In itialed In one corner N. I>. When 1 had read the article, Collins said: "How's that?" "Fine." "Why don't you Investigate It?" "Investigate It? What Is there to in- Ycsugate? This Is all ancient history.'' "Well, perhaps. Still, I have an Idea. Yon know the building don't you?" "Yes, I have seen it.l have never been in it.l answered. "Very good," said he. "Now I know «i old fellow who lives there; has rooms in one of the towers; the tower on the southeast corner. I'll give you a card to him. Go and see him. He is . nil of stories of the building; has had a roost there for fifteen yeais or more, and, if you can get lain to talk, you may hear something." Collins gave his gnome-like inscruta ble, childish laugh, and his eyes danced In elfish glee. He might have known everytnuig or noti. ug at that very minuti>. ""What sort is he?" I asked. "Well, he Is old. queer, a character, a gentleman. You must be punctili ous. You must be ceremonious. Hand him your caru along Wim mine when you knock at his eioor. And by the way, you will have no troiune finding the room. Enter from either side, walk to the middle of the long hail, then turn 10 the east out into the court, and after that in at anomer door to the south; then climb stairs until you Can climb no more, and knock any where in the dark ahead of you. You can't miss the eloor. If you feel care fully, you will touch a brass knocker; that will please him better.' "And what time should I call?" "This is as good a time as any. You would be sure to find him in about this hour." "Very good." I said, "I will go up there now. Give me your card." Collins scribbled a line on his card Introducing me to Nicholas Denny, Lsq., and 1 left him—not, however, be fore I had time to catch another mock lug einile as it vanished from his eager lace. In less than half aa hour I was cross ing Washington square in the gaslit gloom, with the gray bulk of the uni versity rising before me. I went by to the Waverly place entrance, pushed in the heavy, clanging door, and walk ed along tne low hall, as Collins di rected me; then I turned to the left Into the area, and next to the right in to another hall of the building. Then I began to climb the stairs, three or four flights, lit by a single, flickering ga3 jet on each one. At the top of these I was in the last hall, as I thought, with several doors going into it; and I fancied I must have made some mis take when 1 noticed in the farther dark end of the hall a space blacker than the blacisaesc, opening high tp from floor to ceiling, like a gorge in th-j mountains, and right up this gorge the narrow treads of yet anotaer stair leading into pitchy darkness, with sheer wall on either hand. There was nothing for it but to venture. Up I climbed, step by step, until suddenly a crack of light at my feet, a little fo the left, told me I must be on his land ing. 1 stepped quietly to the door, felt for the knocker—a huge old affair, very still' in the joints—and knocked. A chair moved inside, and I heard the rustle of curtains or draperies. Then steps came slowly, stopping al together once or twice, and opened the door to me. "Mr. Denny?" said I. "Yes, sir." "Mr. Denny, may I have the honor of presenting an introduction from my friend Mr. Colllrs?" "Certainly, sir—certainly; and very pleased to see you, too. Walk in, sir. and pray be seated. Sit you down by the fire; you must be chilly. A dis agi'eeable c-veninr is It not?' "Yes, it is cold; out you are very cozy up here, all by yourself." "Oh. yes, snug enough. You see, I have the whole .ower to myself, small as it is. ..ere is no one else on the same floor. That is something." We drew our chairs up to the lire. The fireplace, like the room, was nar row and Kill, with a small grate of coals high up lroin the floor in the old fashioned way. The room might have been sixteen ny twelve and was very lofty. All the upper walls ana the celling were painted a heavy dark blue, which swallowed up all the light the fire and one candle in a silver candle-stick could give. The door by which I had entered was in one corner, and the fireplace in the middle of the other siue. Directly opposite the fireplace was a wide double doorway hung with heavy porner s which were eloseu. The old gentleman talked easny. with a smile, spreading out his hands to the fire, lie seemed just the one to be full of stories and traditions of the place, and I only waited the opportuni ty to interest him in that direction. "Yes. I said in reply to his last re mark. "the atmosphere of one's sur- i rouneliugs is i ore important than the 1 surroundings themselves; don't you think so?" "Ah. yes. indeed; that is very true." "And your atmosphere ueri is so ro mrtutic. There is really no other place like this in the ctty. l should think there would L>e innumerable tales about it; are there not." But he froze at tiii's; gathered his fingers in from the blaze and opened them wide two or three times befoiv he spoke; and I caugh f a sudden hunt-; ed glance quite out of keeping Willi j his courtly demeanor. He seemed to consider before he said: "Yes, yes, indeed, I believe there are many legends about the old building I hear them repeated from time to time; and usually they have been a good deal embellished a good deal em belished. Veracity is difficult aecom plishment, sir." And he turned to me with the most winning and wise smile. 1 said noth ing, and he relapsed into his attitude of consideration, watching the fire. It was just here that a curious thing hap pened. I leaned my head back on tin easy chair a moment, waiting for him to take up the conversation where he had left it with hesitation. As 1 did so 1 notice d for the first tiuJfc a small mirror hung over the fireplace, and 'n If I could see . e dull green portlers behind us. I thought how restful the eolor was to the eye. And then, about five feet from the floor, they parted and a girlish face looked through and roguishly surveyed our backs. She smiled very merrily, and pressed the soft curtains against her yellow hair: then lier dancing eyes ran unsuspect f»:rly over the mirror and caught mine lairiv watching her and she vanished, lu consternation as It seemed. "Oho!" thought I, But the old mun gave no sign, and I, of course, said nothing. Veracity it a di«~cult nccoiuplisliiuent. The little by-play was over In a few seconds—almost before my old friend could take up a new sentence. "You see, sir" (beginning with a long breath, and gazing into the tire), "you see, sir, one looks at things differently at your time of life. Truth seems quite true, and falsehood quite false to you, no doubt. But, when you come alona to sixty, It will not appear so easy all offhand. And somehow, do you know, the little broken incidents of life often please me best, the stories that have been left unfinished and wjll never be finished for us. perhaps. Not that t l<jve the Venus more because she has lost her arms, poor lady: still the loss adds a wistfulness; and wistfulness, when you come to think of it, is a very large part of the charm of art. "I have Just such a one of those tiny incomplete dramas .11 my mind now. I have not quite tilled out the whole circle of the plot from the small arc which has come - under my notice, but 1 shall, perhaps." Here he turned and smiled again donbtfuily at me. "It Is a very interesting—a very iu teresting tangle events, I am quite sure. Perhaps you know this largo hotel on Broadway in tue next block to us? Yes? It Is inn.-.. affe<-t( d by Southerners. 1 believe. However, that is neither here nor there, perhaps. At all events, there was an alarm of tire sounded shortly after midnight on>> February many years ago. 1 was liv ing not far from fcere. and was just coming home when I heard the com motion. As I reached the square, coin ing down Fifth avenue, I saw the smoke and flames in the direction of Broadway, and hurrieu to the scene with half a dozen companions. "When we reached the hotel the flames were spri gins out of the third floor windows. There did not seem to be any immediate danger to the in i ates. The lire * as evidently confined to one or two rooms. Suddenly a man, partially dressed in evening dress (or partially undressed 1 should say, for I take It he had just laid aside his coat), rushed to the window next the one where the tire was fiercest and flung it open. We saw the room burn ing behind him. He put one foot on the sill. 'Make a rope, make a rope,' someone shouted from below. "He was too dazed for that. He vaulted through the window and struck the iron paling as he fell. "When my friends and 1 rushed for ward he lay moaning on the pavement: 'No, no; I'm done for. No, no!" Then , -» swooned, and we cased him where he lay, expecting he would die In a moment. But he turned on his side, pulling feebly at his collar with his right hand. I loosened his cravat, and as I did so the fluttering lingers caught at a thin gold chain round his neck, snapped it and plucked themselves away in a weak spasm, grasping some thing in their clench. Then his eyes opened in terror and a wailing, broken voice came to us: 'She can't get out; she can't get out; she —can—not—get- out! Ah, deal' Goal' and it died into a moan again and he was quite still, with the shut right hana beside him. We thought him gone. But in another moment he looked up quiet quietly at me and smiled, as if we were old ac quaintances. 'My friend,' he said, 'you must keep it,' and he moved his prec ious handful toward me. It slipped, and with a sigh he was dead." "I have Ills keepsake," the old gen tleman continued; "it Is a very curious piece of Jewel work." Here he arose and went to a cabinet In the corner. A very curious piece of handicraft, you will say. If you care for such things you must examine this.' The coals fell in the grate, and a desolate street cry. came up from the world below us, but the room was very still. He came back to the fire and showed me in bis open-hand a large gold locket, apparently of Indian de sign. rough and effective. "How beautiful it is," he said, and his fingers dwelt on it gently before be gavent to me to handle. As he turned back to the cabinet for somehing the tiny casket fell open In my hand and disclosed a beautiful, laughing minature in ivory. It was the face I had seen live min utes before peeping between the dull green curtains. Nature** Protection of the Doe. "One of the strangest, as well as the wisest, provisions of nature, i-s that which protects the doe deer, as well as some other female animals, from ene mies of the carnivorous species during the period when the offspring is very young. Between the toes of all the feet will be found a hoie, which ex tends Into the foot about an Inch ter minating in a sack, in which Is se created a musk or scent of a very strong odor. Ordinarily, when the deer is walking, the air leaves enough scent In each track to enable a dog or wolf to follow »c several hours after it has been made; but the foot of the doe is changed for several months after the fawn Is born. The glands, if glands they are, dry up, and there Is not a bit of oaor In the track, and no dojr, uot even the best deerhounds. is ablo to follow the trail. Many good hounds have lost their reputation by failing to follow the trail of a female bear with cubs, and perhaps a deer also. Pa> I* and It* Tree*. Paris contains more trees than any city In the world, which is the reason why its streets and avenues are so beautiful. These trees are principally of three kinds—the chestnut and aca cia, such as line the Champs Elysees, and the lime tree, which grows in such abundance in the Bols de Bou logne and on certain of the outer boule vards. Statne 0.000 Tear* Old. The earliest known statue is one that has been recovered from an Egyptian tomb. It is that of a sheikh, or head man of a village, is made of wood, with eyes of glass, and evidently a portrait. It is 6,000 years old. An Albino Squirrel. One <#f the very rare albino squirrel was trapped recently by a Maine hun; er. There it not a colored hair In its white fur, and tha eyes are of a bright plafc. I Advice to Consumptives There are three great reme- j I dies that every person with |; | weak lungs, or with consump- jl I tion itself, should understand. ;; Z These remedies will cure ' j I about every case in its first j i stages ; and many of those ji ♦ more advanced. It is only ; t the most advanced that are j | hopeless. Even these are :; I wonderfully relieved ahd life : | itself greatly prolonged. ♦ What are these remedies ? j | Fresh air, proper food and ;; I scon's Emulsion I of Cod-Liver Oil with Hypo- ; I phosphites. Be afraid of j | draughts but not of fresh air. ; I Eat nutritious food and drink j| | plenty of milk. Do not forget ii I that Scott's Emulsion is the j j I oldest, the most thoroughly :; ♦ tested and the highest en | dorsed of all remedies for :: | weak throats, weak lungs and t consumption in all its stages. :: X 50c. aid $' 00; all druggists. ! ♦ SCOTT 4 BOWNE, Chemists, New York. sores. " Running sores appeared on tny leg and sprer.d over the entire lower portion of the limb. I got no help from medicine till I tried yours. 1 was cured by one bottle of g> Acer's vjarsappffla." ISAAC ACKER, Cowana, Va Caveat*, and Trade-Marks obtained and all Vat lent business conducted for MODCRATC FCCS. OUR OFFICE ts OPPOSITE U.S. PATCNTOFFICI and we can secure patent uj less time Uuut those remote from Washington. , 1 Send model, drawing or photo., with descrip tion. We advise, if patentable or not, free of \ charge. Our fee not due till patent is secured. , 1 a PAMPHLET, " How to Obtain Patents," with 1 cost of same in the U. S. and foreign countries' | sent free. Address, i i C.A.SNOW&CO. ! or*. PATENT OFFicr, WAAHINQTON. O. C. ! Cure Consti~ pation and you cure its consiliences. These are some of the consequences of constipation: Biliousness, loss of appetite, pimples, sour stomach, depression, coated tongue, nights mare, palpitation, cold feet, debility, di;> ziness, weakness, backache, vomiting, jaundice, piles, pallor, stitch, irritability, nervousness, headache, torpid liver, heart burn, foul breath, sleeplessness, drowsi ness, hot skin, cramps, throbbing head. Ayer's • Surm Ourm fffffO Oon»tlpmtlon Dr. J. C. Ayer's Pills are a specifio for all diseases of the liver, stomach, and bowels. " I suffered from constipation which as sumed such an obstinate form that I feared it would cause a stoppage of the bowels. After vainly trying various remedies, I be gan to take Ayer's Pills. Two boxes effected m complete cure." D. BURKE, Saco, Ue. "For eight years I was afflicted with constipation, which became so bad that the doctors could do no more for me. Then 1 began to take Ayer's Pills, and soon the bowels recovered their natural action." WM. H. DELAUCETT, Dorset, Oat THE PILL THAT WILL. | STYLISH RHLIABLEI §*■* ARTISTIC**. | 112 Recommended by Leading S S nrcuniLcil £ £ £ 112 they Alway* Please % J MS CALL/EK bazar* fimy fiWTERHSWL ■ fSEBEmRTIANV PRICE | • | tW I u*ttet*» •i• •jli in «•••!* C ! | iifiy city «n j own in ihf Vntf4 C J i If *o\j» dne« rot t» r• p ih-m i«q4 V ; lirect <o ua One :ent nampi icctivcd S m A4Jrc«« your netrftt pnmt j THF McCALL COMPANY. 1 : <3BIO 146 W 14th Street. New York ; ißi) Filth Ave . Chicago, and 8* ; 1031 Market St.. Un t'ranclsco. c I MAGAZf:; t Vhi \mm HI min • Conuins Beair : < 1" S; ■ I. * .vi u, I i3* « ionvK*ruy * « Zl « Afents wanted f'n : •- i/i'-.? !r< fvr; 3* j locaUiy B?j •' \ . .> ■' a Imlt » ; uUr« SuU«3ti;<i ' M ... v pei |-e*r, > * mcludirtu a |«" UKK i'4tt*r«. • j tMrw THE MCCALL t«.. £ j ijl t* 146 W i 4 |b St.. New York S fd# CATHARTIC CURE CONSTIPATION " 501 If you Appreciate buying from a square,.honorable house, which transacts business on the square, don't forget when in need of CLOTHING, SHOES, LADIES'COATSSt CAPE to patronize the originators of the small profit system and you certainly wont regret taking advantage of a guide to upright dealers. Mercury has taken a drop, consequently drop to this pointer and don't buy an Overcoat, Suit, Shoes, Furnishing goods, Ladies' Cloaks, or anything in our large lines until yon have first visited us. Read the Following Low Prices: Here is a special offer in men's blue or black overcoats at 5.00 are worth every cent 8.00, Men's dress suits, fine made,strictly all wool, at 6.00 are worth 10.00. Men's black suits were sold at 5.00, now 2.75. Youths' suits at 2.25, are sold all over at 4.00. Children's overcoats at 1.25 are special bargains. Chil dren s suits, heavy weight, 1.00. Special offer in all wool heavy top shirts at 50c. Heavy wool undershirts or drawers at 50c, worth 1.00. Ladies' ribbed vests, extry heavy, 20c. Shoes, Rubber Boots & Shoes. Don't wait—prices cannot be lower. Many people think if they wait until very late in the season they can buy at cost. Do you know when you get an article at cost ? If you do we will ask you to come and see our low prices now. gee our re ductions and you will be convinced that you can buy merchan dise at our store 40 percent, cheaper than any other place. Come and see the plain facts at our large store with small prices. Good attendants and always glad to show you goods and prices. I n Dam The Reliable Dealer in Clothing JdtUn 1 Cl Boots and Shoes. HUGHESVILLE, PA. Try The News ltem Job Office Once. Fine Printing neat Work \\r' ' "r\ a MODERN FACILITIES. \\ Q 1 Flflt To Please. THE REPUBLICAN NEWS ITEM. IS THE PAPER FOR THE FAMILY. Republican in Principle ! s S Independent in Thought * * Indomitabl in Actione. m Marry in Haste-Repent at Leisure, m ■ Those who Join Themselvt -. ■ "UNCLE SVM" B - y Slavc no Cause '.or kfcpvtuarKt. 1 JSI Tbe Improved U.S. Separator 1 H Sc-araic"» .lie Cream iron; im .>llik K B \ %'/ i - om ■ S >0 J iwln; from the Women. i i-> a »thin tor vrttir but f«»r W\ A what to bnv for a R**T)ariitor. V >ur sn!os lier" slsow I'iAt of i.h are of the nanif mind °", l jl*;^ or rues*.ion. CEORG:: THOMAi Send f>r lii'.strute-' Catak>fucf. M VERMONT PARK MACHINE Bellows Falls, Vt. M JMfEH*VENO*BENTS I f-tnr, P.i.. tin on *JJW i «o» l.rf. fr.. *« «•»«. hkoMmttlulWH. ILK HART Am unw uru. cm. w. a. run, «m>. cuun, m.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers