The Millheim Journal, PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY BY R. A. BUMILLER. Office in the New Journal Building, Penn St., near Hartman's foundry. •1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANOB, OR $1.06 IT NOT PAID IN ADVANC*. Acceptable Coretoiteice SaMel Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL. BUSTJVE SS CARDS- HARTER, Auctioneer, MILLIIRIM, PA. J B. STOVER, Auctioneer, Madison burg, Pa. H.REIFSNYDKR, Anetioneer, MILLHEIM, PA. JL) B JOHN F hartkr - Practical Dentist, Office opposite the Methodist Church. MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM PA. D. H. MINGLE, Physician & Surgeon OflUoe on Main Street. MIIXHKIM, PA. GEO. L. LEE^ Physician & Surgeon, MADISON BURG. PA. , Office opposite the Public School House. GEO. 8. PRANK. Physician ft Surgeon, REBERSBURO, PA. Office opposite the hotel. Professional calls proaptfy taswered at all hours. ijy, P. AMD, M. D.. Physician ft Surgeon, WOODWARD, PA. "g O. DEININGER, Notary-Public, Journal office, Penn at., MiUbeim, Pa. i ear Deeds and other legal papers written and acknowledged at ai ode rate charges. - Fashionable Barber, Having had many yean' of experience, ' the public can expect the best vork and i most modern accommodations. vj - Bhop 2 doors west Millheim Banking House, MAIN ST RENT, MILLHEIM, PA. < QBQBG® L. SPWiNGEB, Fashionable Barber, OorMffWaMflfctaft streets. 2nd floor, Mihbeitn, Pa. Sharing, Haffcutting, Sbampooning, • tbe most satlsfac- i Juo.H. Orris. C. M. Bower. Ellis: L. Orris. < QBVIS, BOWBB A ORVIB, J Attoraejs-at-Law. BELLBFONTB, PA., Office In Woodlngs|Baildlng. D H. Hastings. ■ * W. F. Boeder * BEEDEB, .* Attorneiwd-U*. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of the offiee sou pied by the late Arm of Yocum a Hastings. " J C. MEYER, Attorneys-Law, BELLEFONTE,PA. At the Ottoe of EX-Judge Hoy. . C. HEINLE; Attorneys-Law BKLLBTOHTB, ?A, I .A. Be-r. : J. JGEATER A GEPRART, Attorneys-at-Lw, BELLEFONTE, PA. Offiee on Alleghany Street. North of High Street QBOCKKBHOFF HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BKIXBYOHTH, PA. C, Q. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. witnesses and isbrs- tin I ii in i" 't ' HOUSB, BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA., EMANUEL BRQWN, nonmoß House newly rOtUt. ■ R. A. BUMILLER, Editor. VOL. 59. A Letter and a Telegram. "I don't never waste words,"*' said old Mr. Brown, in a hard, driving voice, "and I hain't good at letter-wrl tiu', but I reckon this'n will cut !" "It's a pity you writ it so hard, fath er," said his young daughter, trem bling ; "It'll hurt her to the heart ; she didn't never mean to borry that S3OO, and then cheat you out of It." "She didn't, eh ? Theu why hain't the money back in my pocket, safe and sound 1 It's a year last Christmas since she pestered me about it, and 1 hain't si en hide nor hair on't yet; if that hain't a clear case of cheatin', Fanny, I'll like to know what ye call it!" The girl stopped churning a moment, and wiped a surreptious tear from her eyelid before ahe answered : "Call it nothing,father, but bad luck when Sister Mary borryed that money to lift the mortgage, she expected to pay it bacfc ; but you know as how Brother John be was took with the rheumatics, and the oveiflow came,and the crop was ruint and then she couldn't pay ; that's all, and God knows it's enough I" "Twasn'fc my rault," snapped her father, fiercely, as he pounded on the kitchen table to give veut to bis anger. "I never pat it in the agreement to 'low for overflows, and rheumatics,and sicb like, and I never would ba' lent her the S3OO if it hadn't been for your soiffin' and pesterin'. And now ye bear sal, not anuther dime o' my earnins shall they ever smell, and I'll never forgive ." The girl sprang up from the churn, crying, "No, father, don't say it— don't, don't say it, father ; you'll be sorry some day when it'a too late ; be sides you're a church member, you know !" "You're right 'bout that,"'said Mr. Brown, perversely ; "I'm a church member, and don't owe nary a person a red cent, and the Bible says, 'an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,'and I'm going to have it 1" He pounded the table again with bis flsts.after ft fashion he had of want ing to pound something or somebody when be felt particularly aggressive. But the sound of bis voice had scarcely died away, when there caipe a knock at the door, and one of those ominous, yellow envelopes, marked with the im press of the Western Union Telegraph Company, was banded in. Mr. Brows took it, and looked it oyer in a helpless kind of fashion before breaking the seal. "How much to pay," be asked tbe boy, and passed oyer to bim tbe change with trembling band ; though it was characteristic of tbe man that even then, with tbe knowledge that tbe telegram must contain terrible news, he was careful to count tbe dimes at they dropped back into bis pocket. Oh, those cruel telegrams I Do tbe company ever remorsefully count the breaking hearts that are left in tbe wake of their messengers ? Mr. Brown was a hard man, and loved bis money-bags oyer well, but somewhere beneath tbe rough outward crusts there waa an abiding affection for his children that needed something like tbe stirring of the soil around the yio let-beds, to loosen the selfish bonds,and give bis love a human voice. And when be read these words, "Mary died this evening ; come at once," a great, sadden anguish filled his breast, and si lently handing tbe dispatch to Fanny, be walked from tbe kitchen and shut himself up in bis own room, whers years before death bad made sonC y visits. He did not cry out or fall, or make any sign that be was grief-strick eu, bat he was hart to tbe soul, and a great remorse made him sick and faint. He bad never pot it in tbe agreement about sickness, overflows, and bad crops, as he had just said ; neither had be "put it" that Mary, in her young blooming matronhood days, should die —bis first born ? How could he bear it ? and it was all the harder because of the cruel words he had uttered while she lay dead at borne. Did he say he would never forgive her—did he really —really say that ? Fanny had tried to stop him, and brought lit to bis mind that be was a "church member" and a Christian. As if a father ought to be merely a Christian to bis own child. Why hadn't he giveu her the money ? Might have done so five times over and never missed it. And tbe old man groaned remorsefully, as with these thoughts in his heart, his gaze wander ed over tbe great fields where the cot ton would soon be a shimmering, fleecy sea, bringing new treasures to bis hoarded gains, and making no hearts happy save bis own. Those few, poor, stuuted acres of John's and Mary's I Swamped by the overflow last spring, stock drowned, and John, wading waist deep, fighting with tbe waters, laid up with the rheu matics. - j • ':* • MILLHEIM PA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8., 1885. Suppose he had given 'em a thou, sands dollars ! Oil, the stiug of remembering eyil when it ia too late to turn evil into good. And then there was that un kind letter. Did his child read those cruel words with the dying light in her eyes, or would it bo left for the stiick en husband to bo treated to the short, stern homily 1 lie went back to the kitchen, where Fanny sat ciying over the telegiam. "Lock up the house," ho said in a hur ried way, for fear his voico would falt er ; "we'll go at once. I'll hitch up while ye get ready." And when they had stalled on their long jourmy he quite broke down in talking over the past' and telling Fanny little things here and there that no one would have supposed he had remembered. "Maiy was alius a dutiful da'arter," he said, putting into broken sentences the griet and remorse that overwhelm ed him ; "after her ma died, and she wasu't knee-high to a duck, she was like a second pairent to the little uns ; nussed 'em through the measles, and when they was well, took it herself, and laid as quiet on the bed for fear o' giving trouble as if she waru't a child." He didn't tell her of how, when the second Mrs. Brown was installed as mistress, Mary became the drudge and maid of-all-work. and was nurse to a hair-dozen more little Browns, who, like their mother, ruled her with a rod of iron. Nor of Mary's marriage with a sturdy, young fellow, who, for the lack of a little timely help, and the pressure of a large family, was kept with bis nose to the perpetual grind stone. He did not tell how Mary pinched and worked,aud sat up till late hours.and struggled to help her family, until in consequence of doctor's bills and babies, and poor crops, John was forced to give a mortgage on his house, wheu her (the father) might have lifted them out of their poverty. lie might even have given them a better house ; the oldest inhabitant could not remem ber wheu tbe ugly, ramshackle affair had been built. Some ancient ances tors had put up a couple of rooms, then added ou a few more, until, what with patching and propping up, John's in heritance was an offence to the eye. Mr. Brown thought bitterly of all this through tbe long journey. Too late, too late seemed written in words of fire on every tree and shiub. At last tbe house was in sight ; a poor, miser able place enough, but now, in the month of June, sweet with climbing roses and honeysuckle that the mis tress's hand had trained to the porch. "Who-o-o, Dandy." The children were in the yard ; with a shout they ran to the gate, and as the old horse stopped, somebody rushed down the steps, and with a cry, "Why. father, why Fanny," Mary in her famous clean calico and apron, and cheeks like roses, with the pleasure and excitement of the visit, was in her father's arms— her father, who held her as he had nev er done before, and kissed her with the tears running down his face. "My child," he said presently, "you were dead, and are alive again. Thank God 1" "Why, father V" questioned Mary again, "what on earth is the matter ?" And she looked with frightened gaze at her sister, vaguely wondering if her father were stricken with some sudden insanity. For answer, Fanny drew out the telegram from her pocnet, and gave it to Mary. "It's all a wonderful mistake," ex claimed the elder woman, glancing it over, and hugging father and sister ex citedly again. "We have a neighbor, Mrs. Mary Harris, who died last even ing ; she has a brother living some where near you, and by the way, his name is Brown—Richard Brown your name father. They carried you the telegram instead of him. What a pity he won't hear of it, so as to get there to the burying." And so, between hysterical sobs and smiles, ahd everyhody talking at once, and asking questions that no one dreamed of answering, they went in under the bower of roses and honey suckle, aod presently John hobbled from the field on crutches,and the story was told all over again. And.when Mary slipped out into the kitchen to get an early supper, old Mr. Brown followed here and there, and she was folded tight in her father's arms again, while the tears streamed aowu both their faces. It was as if she had been raised from the dead. "My child," whispered the old man, "I hain't been the best of fathers to ye ; I ha' shut my eyes and my heart when I ought to ha' been the one to help ye ; never ye mind 'bout that money ; don't ye say one word 'bout it, and we'll knock this old rattletrap tioWn to morrow, and I'll show ye how to build a bouse !" And so be did, and a very comforta ble house it was, where John did not have to stoop when he went in and out of doors. And would you believe it ? Tbe letter, all tbe more harsh for being so brief, never did reach its destina tion. Old Mr. Brown's chirography was of a very inferior sort, and tt.a postmaster couldn't puzzle out the ad dress, much as he desired so to do ; then the letter was forwarded to the Dead Letter Office at Washington, and in due time was returned to Mr. Brown who quietly and satisfactorily consign' ed it to the flames. A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE An Eel That Couldn't Be Held. 'Any one that lifts that eel out of the tank may have it,' said Eugene Black ford to a crowd of pei sons who stood in Fulton Market before an open aqua rium, watching a large eel moving gracefully about in tho water. A har dy looking fisherman,who had probably caught many eels in his time,asked Mr. Blackford if ho was in earnest, and be ing assured that the offer was made in good faith, he tucked up the sleeve of his pilot jacket, and after briefly ex plaining to the ciowd the precise man ner in which an eel should be grasped to prevent it gliding through the fin gers, he plunged his band into the wa ter to practically illustrate how the thing was done. He seized the eel very artistically, but, with a sharp explos ion of blasphemy he let it go again he fore lie had brought it to the surface. The eel swam around indifferently. It had evidently grown accustomed to such experiences. The fisherman fol lowed it with his eyes. 'lt stung me bad,' was the only explanation he cared to offer to spectators. Just then a whistling hoy came up,and looked at the eel because the others were looking at it. 'I don't see anything uncommon in him,' he said, contemptously. I've ketched bigger ones than that.' 'Say, Boh,' said the fisherman, struck with'an idea, 'pick that eel out of the tank and follow me down South street with it, and I'll giye you a quarter.' Without stopping to make any in quiries as to the legitimacy cf the offer, the independent lad grasped the eel. lie liberated it immediately, and utter ed a yell that brought in the policeman who twirls his club just outside the fish market, to see what the matter was. Later in the day many persons touch ed the eel and tested its curious powers. After the contact some shrieked, some laughed, and some looked frightened, but none essayed to meddle with it a second time. New comers continued to touch it,until Mr.Blackford, fearful that its vitality might be exhausted, put it into a high closed tank,and past ed this legend upon the glass : 'Gvm notus, or electric eel.' The tank con tained several "hell benders," and the eel shocked them very much, and caus ed them to spring around in the liveli est manner. It was given to Fish Com missioner Blackford by Mr. Doland Burns, who received it from the Ama zon River. Capt. Bears brought it with him in the steamship Finance. It is rather a handsome creature, aud a great point in its favor is that it keeps its mouth always shut, except at* meal times.aud.seems to breathe through two rows of holes on its head and neck. It is about 2i feet long and rather dispro portionately thick. It has a heayy fin, like the keel of a boat, running along the belly the entire length of the body. The throat is of orange color, and the head, though short and clumsy, is or namented with two little flaps that look like ears. It can administer an electric shock as powerful as that of a small battery. A man touched it with a steel fish knife, and he felt the shock as for cibly as if he had touched it with his bare fingers. A Mill Horror Reoallod. January 10, 1860, the city of Law rence, Massachusetts was smitten by a disaster which carried agony and death into scores of homes, and sent a thrill of sympathetic horror through the land. About 5 o'clock in the after noon the operatives in the Pemberton Mills felt a swaying of the floors and tbe machinery began to run irregularly. Before, however, the dreadful fact that the building w.is falling could be more than realized, the walls were bursting apart, the floors falling, and rattling looms and human beings were swallow ed up in a terrible plunge of death. The first those in the lower stories knew of the catastrophe was a crashing through of the machinery upon them from the floors above. There was no time, no way to escap9. The building then caught fire, and scores of wretched, wounded beings were burned to death. Hundreds of citizens were on the scene immediately after the fall,and all work ed heroically, and all the fire engines in the city poured on floods of water, but it was sometime before the flames were extinguished, and all the injurad could not be got out of the building until the following day. Over one hundred per sons were killed, and some three hun dred others were more or less injured. A Conflagration Unlikely. Youqg Featherly had dropped in for an evening call, and Bobby was enjoy iug the conversation ahd leading the laughter. Incidentally, Bobly said : 'Mr. Featherly, can water burn V 'No, Bobby,' replied Featherly, a mazed at the question, 'but it can be made very hot by boiliug. What put that idea into your head ?' 'Ma. She told sister that there was no danger of your ever setting the North river on fire.' An Oriental Smuggler. "Of all smugglers," remarked tho Custom House inspector, "recommend me to the Chinks and Japs. They've got more brains and originality than any other smugglers four times over. A few months ago a tea packet came in and I was assigned to it. Well, a friend of mine—a 'fiend,' as they call 'era—gave me a tip that there was o pium paste on bDard, which the sailors were going to smuggle ashore You see, opium paste pays a duty of $lO a pound. 1 was on the boat tbe moment she touched tbe pier and examined every sailor that went til. I hadn't been aboard a very long time when a Chiuese groceiy pedlar came down the wharf. lie had a big open basket on his arm, in which there was green stuff and cans of tomatoes and such like. I didn't suspect him, but to be doubly sure I walked with him to the forecas tle where he commenced to peddle off tiis truck. He sold the vegetables and counted the money carefully he got for them. Then he sold the cans of torna toes for a quarter apiece. I thought he was rubbing it in : so I told one of 'em on the quiet they weren't worth more than a dime. The next moment the air was blue. They jumped up, fired the cans into his basket, shook their fists under his nose, and wanted their money back. He wouldn't give it to them, and they went for him. He was making a good fight when one of them drew a knife. I had a heavy cane in my hand, and I knocked the knife out of the fellow's hand and made the peddler go up the ladder and off the boat. lie thanked me and went away talking Chinese, and, as I sup sed, cursing the crowd. "Alittle while after,the sailors came up and wanted to go ashore. I search ed eyery one of them, and found noth ing. They hadn't been goue more than a half hour when the peddlar came back. II is eye was black, and bis nose and mouth bloody and swol len. He said : 'Policeman, dam lobbie stealee fob, five can tomatee. You helpe gettie back and takee bad man to station-house ?' I felt sorry for the poor devil, and told him we'd go and search the forecastle for his property. We looked around five or ten minutes, and were about to give it up a9 a bad job, when we found them hidden away under a piece of old sail cloth. He popped them in his basket,shook hands and thanked me a dozen times, gave me a handful of good cigars, and theD went away. Do you know on account of that licking he had got I never drop ped to his racket at all ? It was all a put-up job. He brought on board real cans of tomatoes ; he took away toma to cans filled with opium paste. The sailors were in with him, and had put the real ones in their chests, and had replaced them with the smuggled stuff. There must ' have been thirty-five pounds, which meant a clear profit of $350. Fanned the Flies From Baby's Face. Dog stories are always in order,pro vided they are true. A gentleman in one of the suburban wards owns a fine specimen of tbe tpanield breed, which is very fond ot children, and when any little ones visit his master's house constitutes himself their compa nion, playmate and guardian. A few days ago a lady with an infant visited the gentleman, and in the course of the day the child was laid on a pillow on the floor to amuse itself for a time. The dog took his place near the little one, as usual. The day was hot and the flies bad, and they made the baby the target ol frequent attacks. This rendered her restless. Doggie watched her tor a few minutes, and then, walking close up, with his nose or paw drove away every fly as soon as it lit on the baby's face, and did it so gently too as not to disturb her in the least. The dog's action attracted the attention of the mother and others, who were filled with astonishment at his thoughtful kindness. This story has the merit of truth.— Pittsburg Chronicle. It is related that when Gen. Grant was in Houston, several years ago, the people gave him a rousing reception. There was a grand barquet, for which $1,500 worth of the choicest wines were proyided. When the waiter came to serye the wine the head waiter went first to Gen. Grant. Without a word the general quietly turned down a'l the glasses at his plate. This quiet move was a great surprise to the Texans, but they were equal to the occa&ion. With out a single word being spoken every man along tho line of the long tables turned his glasses down, and there was not a drop of wine taken that night. "Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance. A CURIOUS LEGEND. By a Tkaveleu. For years there stood upon the old Doren property, a good long distance from the kitchen door of the mansion, a queer stone well. It \v;ih of carven stone, with grotesque heads and faces on every side, and behind it the head and body of some fiendish-looking thing —a sort of satyr it seemed —with such fierce expression in its carven eyes that all children were afraid of it. A rustic shed covered the well. Iyy crept over It, and half hid the stone face. And it was certainly a very picturesque object. There had never been either windlass or sweep; only a chain fastened to the roof of the shed, to which the bucket was attached; but the water was always so high that it was very easy to draw it in this way. In connection with this well, howev er, something very remarkaole had oc curred. In the year 1044, when the house was first occupied by the family, a young girl, Ka'hrine Doren by name, the youngest daughter of the house,had gone to the well in the edge of the eve ning to fill a pail. She never returned. Iler friends went in search of her, and found the pail on the well's cutb. It was thought at first that she was drowned, but this was not the case. However, she was never seen again. Her friends fancied she had been mur dered; strangers believed that she had eloped with some lover; but no one ev er knew what became ot C.tthrine Dor en. Meant ime, her niece, a child at the time, grew up, married, and had a daughter, whom she uamed Kathrine, after her lost aunt. Forty years from the day on which the first KathriDe had disappeared, this second Kathrine, then seventeen years old,went in the gloaming of au autumn day to the stone well to fill a .china pitcher. Agaiu the same thing happened ; the pitcner was found on the well curb,and Kathrine was never seen again. The whole country was scoured; posters were pasted up in every town ; adver tisements inserted in every paper; but the mother died of grief without having heard any tidings of her daughter. Since then, in every generation, the same thing had happened. Seven girls had gone to the well for water and nev er been seen since, and,strange enough, each had been named Kathrine. Yet so skeptical are the people of to day, that no one really believed all that was said; and it was thought in the neighborhood that the Dorens were a race given to elopement, and that the girls took advantage of the legend of the well. In the year 1844 the old house was a crumbling edifice, that rocked in the wind when it blew stroDgiy; and the widow of the last Doren, to whom it fell on the death of her husband's fath er, hesitated about taking up her ab'ode there; but she was poor, and really had little choice. So to the old bouse she went, with her one daughter, Kathrine —a girl of eighteen, blue-eyed, golden haired and bonny. The widow had heard the story of the disappearance of the girls, but had scarcely believed it, and had never re peated it to ber daughter. Kathrine was in utter ignorance of it, and of the well. She ran about the garden,discov ering new beauties at every turn, and at last actually danced with delight be fore the old stone well. 'Like a well in an old fairy story, mamma,' she exclaimed, as she describ ed it. 'lt makes me feel as though we really ought to find an old castle some where to match it. Just the well for a trysting-place.' *lf I remember rightly,it has been an unlucky well enough for the Doren wo men,' said the widow. 'Tell me the story, mother,' cried Kathriue. 'No; idle tales like that are best un told,' said the widow. 'No doubt it is very good cold water; but when you meet your sweetheart, I hope it won't be at the well, but under your mother's eyes, in the house here.' Kathrine laughed. 'The sweetheart must come first,' she said; and began to help her mother to do the housework. But she kept thinking of the well; and that evening, at dark, she took from the shelf in the kitchen a pitcher, quaint as the house itself, and without saying anything to her mother, ran down the garden path. It was two hundred years from the day on which her ancestress, the first I lost Kathrine, has thus gone to the old stone W6ll — two hundred years to the day and the hour, if this, the eighth Kathrine, had but known it. But she did not. She tripped along to the well, swing ing the old blue pitcher in her hand. She reached it, and bent over the curb. A dim reflection of her own face greet ed her. 'How high the water is !' she said. 'I can reach it with the pitcher,' and bent lower still. But, falling to reach the water, she set the pitcher on the curb, and caught the chain which held the bucket. NO. 39. NEWSPAPER LAWS If subscribers order the discontinuation of newspapers, the nuollshers may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. If subscribers refuse or neglect to take their newspapers from the office to which they are sent the;-are held responsible until they have settled the bills and ordered them discontinued. If subscribers move toother places without in forming the publisher, and the newspapers aro sont to the former place, they arc res|>onuible. ADVERTISING RATES. 1 wk. 1 mo.} 8 mos, 6 mos. 1 yea 1 square *2 00 S4OO | 95 00 S6OO SBOO X " 700 1000 1800 9000 40 00 1 " 1000 l&00i 25 00 4500 75 00 One inch makes a square. Administrators and Executors' Notices S2AO. Transient ad ver tlsements and locals 10 cents per line for firs insertion and 5 cents per line for each addltlou alinsoction |~"m " " ■ On the instant it seemed to Iter that the stone satyr behind the, fountain darted his head forward, and rolled his great eyes, and at the same instant strong hands seized ber arms and drag ged her t'own wards. The poor girl struggled and tried to scream. The water was in her eyes, her ears,and her mouth; the blood rush ed to her I lead. Still the great hands held her, until suddenly she foand her self leaving the water. She stood in a great cave of white atone, with stalacti tes hanging from the roof; and the thing that held her she could not see, for it was behind her. The stalactities glittered like dia monds—they draped the entrance to another cave. This, however, as she was still pushed forward, she saw to be gorgeous with pearls and opals and sea gems of all sorts. In its midst,under a sparkling canopy, lay a beautiful young being, like a man, bat more radiant, more splendid—a man whose eyes were jewels, whose teeth were pearl alms lips were coral. He looked at ber and smiled. And now for the first time the strange being who held her spoke. 'My prince,' he said, *1 bring you an eighth Kathrine.' And the girl, looking round, saw the sione fbatures of the sculptured satyr behiud the well. 'Kathrine !' repeated the being be ad dressed. 'A pretty Kathrine, too young, fresh, lovely." Katie, mine,wel come to my palace. All that you shall ask for can be youre,and you my queen. 1 There was a subtle power in his eyes* A strange mesmeric influence seemed to draw her towards hi. It was Jike that with which the snake charms the bird. But at the moment she beard a strange fluttering chorus of afghs, and looking about ber, saw the figures ot seven womeu, all ok! and bent, sitting at seven spinning- wheeia. They seem ed to be of stone; butas she looked they sighed again, and each turned into a white dove, that came fluttering to wards her. The breeze they made with their wings seemed to dispel the enchant ment the man with the jewel-like eyes had cast about her. 'Let me go 1' she cried. 'ln the name ot Heaven,let me go home to my moth er.' She forced herself into the outer cave, thence into the cold water of the well, calling on all the holy names she knew meanwhile. Again her breath deserted ber, the water rushed into ber eyes and ears ; but blindly feeling about, she caught the bucket that had dropped ioto the water after her. Above her, at the top of the well, ;the blessed blue sky was visible. At that instant a head blotted it out. A man, a laborer, going home from his work, had paused there to drink ; and the next moment she lay senseless ami pallid on the grass beside the welL When she came to herself she told her story. Some said that she had on ly had one of those visions which the drowning are said to have; and that the cold well had its source in some hid den cave, whither the water at times had power to draw any object oa its surface; and some grew shud dered, as they thought of the seven stone Kathrines at their stone spin ning-wheels. Bat the widowDoren never said what she thought; she only caused a mason to bring a great flag-stone to the well, coyer it, cement it, and seal it up for eyer. A Genuine Mad-Stone. Mr. Len Piles, a citizen of Sullivan county, is the o svner of a mad-stone, says a letter from Yincennes, Ind. It is gray in color, full of pores, and almost as light as & piece of paper. It is a genuine mad-stone, and MrJPiles keeps it wraped in a piece of soft cloth. It was brought to the United States from Ireland many scores ot years ago by Mr. Piles' ancestors. Great care has been taken of it, and it has been handed down from generation to generation. It is valned at S4OO. Over 1,000 applications have been made by it Two pieces of it were broken off, and are owned by parties in Louisville and Terre Haute. The record of the stone has been lost, however, as it has changed hands so many times. The stone has been in this country sixty years, and has never been known to fail to enre a mad dog bite, wnen properly applied. It has been in the Piles family for 200 years. Tne editor of a Sullivan paper says that parties who have been bitten by dogs living 150 miles distant from Sullivan have been brought to this won derful stone and cured. The stone looks the same now as fifty years ago. NOTICE.— The new Process Roller Flour, manufactured by J. B. Fisher, Penn Hall, is for sale at D. 8. Kauff man & Go's new store, Main street, Millheim,Pa. ■
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers