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R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. GO.
Con is ton's Courtship.
John Gordon Annesley, Earl of Con -
iston, sat in the cabin of the Brighton
boat, reading his eveuing paper. He
tiad just folded and put in his pocket a
long letter from his friend and partner.
Sir Campbell Frazer, in which the gen
tleman announced that affairs at the
Ranch of San Rosalie were going on
perfectly, but that he must beg his
'dear old Jack' to put off his sailing
date just a fortnight;, as he now found
that he could not be in New York pos
sibly before the close of the mouth (Oc
tober) or later.
Coniston was in the midst of a frown
over this piece of intelligence as he
glanced over the paper. He bated
America and Americans ; lie longed to
put the sea between himself and this
displeasing nation ; he yearned for
'shooting' and the Highlands ; he
icorued the gayelies of all the Ameri
can watering places, and stopped at the
Pavillion—solely, as he openly avowed,
because Brighton was an English name
for a place, and for the other reason
that here he was within an hour of
Pier 3S North River, and could step on
boardaGuoin boat at almost a mo
ment's warning. Coniston, therefore,
chaffed under the afiliction of an addi
tional fortnight in the land of loathing.
Albeit the Ranch of San Rosalie was
adding a considerable number of thous
ands to his income, he still—just at
this particular moment—wished it at
bottom of the Red Sea.
Perhaps, too, he mingled with the
afflictions of the exile some memories
of Lady Cicely Howard, and the
strange penchant he had for her dur
ing the last Londou season.
However this may he, Coniston'a va
cant eye at this juueture took in a very
neat little figure as it advanced in the
cabin ; it was followed by another—a
plump, middle-aged lady's figure, much
burdened with shawls and wraps, and
evidently in deadly peril of a draught,
for before seating itself, both the neat
little figure and the plump duenna ex
amined carefully the fastening of all
adjacent wiudows.
'This one seems tightly closed, Aunt
Doriuda," the girl said, in her clear,
light voice.
'Horrible American tone, calculated
to lacerate a fog !' mentally comment
ed his lordship.
'No, Polly, no ; I am sure '
'Polly ! ye gods !' soliloquized the
earl. 'Suggestive only of comic opera,
milkmaids atd parrots. And she has
short hair I—he never could abide a
short-haired woman. And she was
small. Small women had always, from
youth up, constituted his pet aversion !
Dressed in brown ; brown as a color
was distressing, in fact it was no color
at all P Coniston had all his nation's
prejudice in favor of brilliant hues.
She is alert, bright, viyacious ; all
that a woman should not be ; what a
contrast to Cicely, who was the perfec
tion of languor, dreaminess and repose I
—and yet Cicely was sometimes rather
of a bore.
He wondered if this young person
was a bore ? Now that he inspected
her, he observed that she had a certain
reticence of face and manner that was
wholly un-American. She had seen
him looking at her, of cousre. By
Joye I where was his paper ? on the
floor ! and yet for some inscrutable rea
son she did not return his gaze square
ly out of those large eyes of hers. It
was strange I It struck Coniston as a
remarkable fact, worth recording, that
he had encountered one American girl
who declined to reciprocate the delicate
attentions of his eyes.
Why 1 there came Bradford 1 such a
capital fellow for au American.
Bradford knew her.
She smiled at Bradford, and allowed
him to sit beside her, and'gaye him her
wrap'to hold.
To be sure, Coniston remembered
that he had always thought Bradford
very much of a cad, and not a nice fel
low by any means.
And Bradford held her wrap, and
they all went off the boat together in
the iriendliest sort of fashion, with
the maid trotting after thera with the
satchels and dogs.
No, he had always had a special a
version for that Bradford ! And as for
small women, with short hair, dressed
in brown—well, his disgust for thera
was not to be measured by any lan
guage.
Nevertheless, as Couiston wilily ar.
gued with himself, 'a man must All up
his time so, in an off hand way he
just intimidated to Bradford that lie
dido't care*-if the opportunity offered
—if bs did introduce him to Mrs. Wad
dle and her niece, Miss Grey.
Bradford was apparently magnani
mous ; besides, he had never presented
an earl to Grey before—and he did the
deed with satisfaction to himself at
least.
Miss Grey bowed slowly to Coniston,
and then she turned her attention to a
group of lady friends sitting near, leav-
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 22., 188 G.
ir.g Coniston to the agreeable knowl
edge that he was at liberty to salute
her the next time he met her on the
piazza or the corridor.
It didn't satisfy him.
lie went off and smoked a cigar, and
conjured up Cicely in the fragrance of
the Havana.
Even Cicely did not seem to ho as
completely a as ho had fancied
she ought to he.
For live days ho wandered up and
down, and round and round tho hotel,
'lounging,' he ca'led it ; hut tlio more
correct term tp describe these peregrin
ations would he—politely chasing Polly
Grey.
Finally ho beheld her alone. NeithJ
er aunt nor Bradford nor friends
heaven he praised—were anywhere a
bout.
lie drew near the big rocker, where
she sat with a hook in her lap, and
suddenly Coniston remembered that he
should have to say something beyond
'good-moruing,' aud for the first lime
in forty-one years he actually wonder*
ed what it should he.
She spared him the attempt, however
aud glancing up, said :
•Ah ! good-morning ; yon liaye been
up in town, I suppose, ever since the
day Mr. Bradford presented you ?'
'Up in town ?' This was too much,
when lie had followed her like a detect
ive the entire tiuie.
Coniston looked feebly at her, and
then he laughed,and his fair face Hush
ed as he ventured to sit down on the
piazza-step at her feet. Folly glanced
down inquiriugly with steady, demure
eyes.
'No,' he cried. 'Miss Grey, I've
been most of the time about a yard
and a quarter away from you ; hut you
never seemed to see me !'
'llow strange !' Polly says, wonder
ingly. 'Most people would have seen
you, now, wouldn't they ¥'
'Women always have before,' he as
sented, with a sigh.
•Then you must have rejoiced in a
change, didn't you ? Variety is so
pleasant to an appetite j ided by same
ness !'
'No,' he answers ; 'I didu't enjoy it
at all. I'll tell you,' he says, looking
up at her with wide, clear eyes ; 'to he
frank, I hate American women, and
you're the only one who ever inspired
me with the slightest '
Coniston stops short ; there is some
thing in his listener's face that marks
an unerring period in his reckless
speech.
'Well ?' she asks, sweetly and clear
ly, ' '—the slightest'?'
The English language is Collision's
native tongue,hut it fails him now ; he
feels the warm blood suffusing his face
as his mind runs after an elusive wo
man.
'Ah, I ses ; there are some things so
much better implied than expressed.
But I am so matter-of-fact that I must
translate your mute eloquence, Lord
Coniston ' At this moment Conis
ton is lost in calculating how many
minutes he can stand this present tem
perature of his dead and face—'into
words, or a word—curiosity, eh V
Come, he twice frauk—is it not so ?'
'You may christen it curiosity, and
call it so, pro tern., if you choose, Miss
Grey, but '
Tne earl again falters.
'Oh !' cries the girl, with a little im
patient wave of her hand, and throw
ing hack her pretty blonde head ; 'how
I abhor Englishmen ! They are so in
terror of even their minor emotions.
A Fienchman, a German, an Italian,
any other nationality in the world is
ready and eager to put his flirtatious
propensities into the most delicious lan
guage ; tut an Englishman !'—she
shudders—'he stops to wonder what lie
is about to feel, and lo I the emotion
vanishes ! ha 1 ha ! ha !'
Miss Grey laughs a long, musical,
ringing laugh.
Coniston looks at her, and lie won
ders if lie has ever really seen her until
this morning ? She looks like the
brightest part of sunshine as she sits
there in it, mocking him.
"Perhaps we do avoid putting what
you call our 'flirtatious propensities'
into words ; hut if you will permit [me
to say so, an Englishman is only too
ready to speak out that which ho really
feels 1'
'Do tliey ever 'feel' anything out
side the hunting-field and the House
of Commons V' she asks provokingly.
lie smiles as he looks at her.
'I will tell you some day.'
Not long after Coniston rides with
Miss Grey—a long afternoon ride on
the road by the hay and through the
woods and past the farms busy with
their Autumn fruit-gathering.
They chat of commonplace things—
the flowers, the birds, the clouds, the
blue of sea and sky, and they come
home soberly enough, too soberly, lie
thinks.
There i 3 a ball that night, the last of
'the season.' Couiston is not a dan
cing man, so he has the satisfaction of
A IMl'Hll FOR THE lIOMK CIISCLK
watching Miss Grey Hunting about the
ballroom principally with Bradford.
Ho stalks out on the piazza, brilliant
with lanterns, and then saunters to the
other end, where it is comparatively
quiet.
Polly sits there,and Bradford—Brad
ford I—is bending above her, he even
has her hand ; and now he goes in and
leaves her.
Coniston is a madman as ho rushes
into the other man's place, and leans
trembling over her chair. She is quite
silent.
'H is I,' he whispers, brokenly.
'1 know,' she replies, softly.
•Oh, child !' cries he, 'jou must lis
ten to me ; I am a good-for-nothing
sort of a fellow ; I have had no relig
ion, not anything, until I have known
you, and now you aie my shrine. It
seems to me at your feet I should lay
rare spices, pei fumes, llowers, jewels—
and all I dare lay there to-night is a
human heart—a human life, Polly,' ho
says, lowly stooping his blondo head
to hers. 'Will you have mo ¥'
He sees her face as she upturns it in
the flare of the last lantern ; it is as he
has never scon it—pale, stricken,awful,
calm.
'Well !'she says, at last, with that
clear, bright voice of hers,a trifle hard,
a trifle matter-of-fact.
'Oh, I love you, ray soul 1 my queen!
I love you and need you,' cries he, o
ver come by the sight of her pallor.
'I know,' she answers quietly, 'I ap
preciate, valwe your love ; I would not
have it otherwise ; I should have been
disappointed always if you had not
loved me. Ah ?' burying her white
face \': her hands, 'I revel in it !'
Ami he hail once thought this wo
man cold, superficial, unlikahle.
'My darling !' Coniston says, reach
ing out his hand for hers.
'But,' whispers the girl, drawing a
way in her silken wrap, 'l—l—am en
gaged to be married to Eugene Brad
ford. I have been for two yeais !'
Sir Campbell Frazer had ariived
from the West. The Arizona was to
sail Tuesday, and both he and the Earl
of Coniston were hooked on her pass
enger list.
It was Monday night—'midsummer
come again,'people said, lounging a
bout the piazzas of the big hotel
warm, sultry,with great banks of blue
black cloud 3 hovering above the golden
rim of the west.
Bradford was up In town, detained
by business, as Coniston had discover
ed. Miss Grey was sitting at the cor
ner of the piazz i. He went up to her
for the first time since the night of the
ball.
'May I sit down ?'
She looked assontingly.
'I am going to-morrow iu the Ari
zona.'
'I know,' she answers, whitening.
He wonders why, and, Heaven help
him ! he gets up and goes away, when
lie would rather far have taken the
frail, vivacious, alert little woman to
his heart.
Presently he saunters hack.
'Would you take a ride with me. to
night ! You know we shall never on
earth see each other again. Would
you ?'
Her e>e3 fiasli, her lips quiver ; she
turns the ring on her finger hack and
forth.
'Yes,' she says, quietly, 'I will. 1
will get on my habit and he down pres
ently.'
They rido off—off into the green and
silent country lanes, where the dew
damps the air, and where the scent of
the homestead flower gardens mingles
with the breath of the sea as it comes
to them.
They do not talk very much, nor yet
ride fast. The twilight is gathering
and the horses have their way.
Suddenly it grows dark—the blue
btauk clouds have crept over all the
brightness of the heavens and hidden
the harvest moon from sight.
A flash—an instantaneous report,and
Polly see 3 her lover stagger in his seitt;
his left arms falls powerless,struck for
ever useless at his side.
She had her horse beside him in an
instant ; she comes close to his side,
while the great rain drops fall splash
ing down upon thera. She takes up
the stiicken arm in her soft hands, and
presses her young lips upon it.
'Polly !' cries Coniston wildly, 'do
you love Bradford ?'
•Oh, no !' she says.
'Will you marry me ?'
'Yes,' she whispers.
'Now—to-night—this yery hour ?'
. 'Yes, this very hour if you wish it.
Oh !' cries the girl, wildly, 'Jack, I'll
be so good to you. I must ho, don't
you 'see V This—this 1' She touches
his arm as he tries to guide his horse
and hold her to him, both. Hie does
not need me like that, and you do ;
and it is my fault—l ought not to have
1 come out to-night with you 1'
J 'Thank God you did !'
'And,' she says, slowly, as they turn
their horses heads, 'besides, I—l love
you ; is it not strange ?'
'Very. And you will not regret
owning a fellow as -as helpless as I am,
Polly ¥'
'No,'she answers, thoughtfully, and
looking at her by the lightening's fre
quent llash, he sees the strength, and
warmth, and tenderness, and love, that
he has need of.
'Polly," Coniston says, through the
pelting rain, as they rile hack to
Brighton, 'it seems to me as if my
whole life had boon an interrogation
point and as if you were the blessed
answer to it.'
And so it fell out that the reierend
pastor of St. Mary's was called upon to
marry two drenched people that No
vember night, and that the Earl of
Coniston put oIT his sailing date anoth
er month.
The Boy Next Door.
BY MRS. MARGARET E. SANGSTEIt.
Next to his big brother, for whom
our boy entertains a feeling of bound
less admiration, the person who lias the
most to do with educating him is the
hoy next door. Wo deny ourselves not
only luxuries, but conveniences, that
we may place our boj in the best school
attainable ; we are careful and assidu
ous with regard to his diet and his
clothing, and the ventilation of his bed
room; yet we are often strangely indif
ferent as to the influence upon him of
his familiar friend and playmate. The
hoy next door stands for the associate
who sits beside him in the class-room,
who shares his luncheon at the noon re
cess, with whom he walks to and from
school. What do we know about the
home atmosphere from which this hoy
comes,of the principles and code of man
ners which obtain in his father's house?
Is he, like our hoy, accustomed to hear
the Bible quoted as the ru'e of daily
living, and to see all mooted points
brought rigidly to the lest, "What
would Jesus hid us do ?"
It is a great advantage to our little
man if he has a brother to whom he
may look loyally and trustfully, and
whose good example outweighs a
myriad precepts. But suppose lie him
self is just now the only, or the biggest
hoy in the home; or, suppose the broth
ers are so far his seniors in age as to he
removed from much sympathy with his
pursuits ? I remember to have heard
an eminent physician say that, in his
opinion, half the difficulties in family
training would he surmounted, if only
parents started their eldest children
right. "Let the first boy in the home
he truthful and obedient,"lie said,"and
the rest will naturally follow his lead."
In the main, my friend's observation
has been proved correct. Still, it is
neither possible nor desirable to confine
our little men to the home companion
ship, excluding every other, for child
hood's world should he an introduction
to the larger world beyond it, the world
of thought, enterprise, and action.
When, not long ago, I heard a father
remark that he must change the envi
ronment of a child who had grown up
to the age of sixteen in hotels and
boarding-houses, because he noticed a
touch cf forwardness, a certain loud
ness of tone about the child's manner,
unbenefiting youth aud refinement, I
felt like saying. "My dear sir, you are
just sixteen years too late in your refor
mation. No quiet household life now
will renew the bloom which the public
ity of your previous arrangement lias
rubbed from the child's mind and man
ner." None of us can afford to post
pone attention to our children's friend
ships, for. whether or not we accept it
as a fact, we sli ill find on examination
that the friendships of childhood often
give bent to character and affect the
ent ire life.
One of the sweetest, wisest,and most
successful mothers of my acquaintance,
makes it a point, always, of knowing
the mothers of her children's school
friends, and of maintaining some sort
of social intercourse with them. Not
necessarily on the plane of social equal
ity, hut in order that she may ho assur
ed that no injury to her children's mor
als shall come through intimacy with
those of whom she knows nothing.
I believe in having the hoy's play
hours under tender mother-brooding, if
not under minute mother-inspection.
To insure quietude and order in the
house, to keep carpels from wearing
anil paint from stain, many hoys are al
lowed to go where they choose for rec
reation, the mother calmly satisfied if
only they are out of her way. Shall I
ever forget the plaintive despair of one
little fellow, aged six, who came up
stairs, his copper-toed hoots emphasiz
ing his desperation at every step.
"1 have been in the library, and ma
ma dosen't want me; I.have been in the
nursery, and Mary won't have me ; I
have been in the kitchen, and cook has
driven me out; there is no place in the
house for me. 1 know what I'll do, I'll
go into the street." And into the
street he went, to find what company
he could. And the mother, lounging
by the fire with a novel, or matching
silks in her embroidery, was content to
let him go.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
In rout rust to this, a little incident
which came to my knowledge not long
ago may he suggestive. The mother is
a woman of many engagements and in
terests. She had spent a day in ardu
ous work, and as the wintry twilight
deepened she lay on tho sofa in her fire
lit room, seeking a brief rest for mind
and body. Presently she heard a step
on the stairway outside, a soft, consid
erate step, unlike the usually precipi
tate progress of hertwelve.year.old lroy.
"Darling," she called, "where are you
going ?"
"Oli, mamma, are you awake? I
thought you were sleeping, and I did
not want to disturb you. It's so dull
in the house, I meant just to go out
doors and loaf around awhile till dinner
time."
'Come talk to me, dear, and we will
not be dull," said the mother, feeling
thankful that the opportunity had not
escaped her. 1 I stopped him just in
time," she said, gratefully.
A boy can have 110 better intimate
friend after all than his own father.
The beautiful confidence with which
some sons approach some fathers, tell
ing them not of their success only, but
of their defeats, of their trials as well
as their triumphs, is the best introduc
tion that a child can have into the
knowledge of the Heavenly Father's
love.
True as it is, that many hard-work
ing fathers have little time to spare for
taking their children's measure, being
so busy in bread-winning or in laying
up money, that they delegate all their
responsibilities to their wives, and are
practically strangers to their boys; it is
nevertheless a pity and an error. Worse,
it is a sin. What shall the father,
awakening too late to a sense of his
blunder, urge except that old and fruit
less excuse, "While Thy servant was
busy here and there, he was gone."
Next to a father a good companion
•for a growing boy is sometimes to be
found in such a guide, philosopher, and
friend, as Jonas proved to Itollo. I
wish children would still read the Itollo
books, as they used to. It is hardly
the fashion at present to praise any
thing didactic in the line of childish
reading, but the Itollo books remain
unapproaclied in their fitness for child
ish minds and hearts ; and, over all the
years that lie between us. I send ray
love to Jonas, as ont of the best com
panions a little <jirl ever had, and the
charming mentor of the little girl's
brother.
Look well to the boy next door, if
you desire your boy to grow in fayor
with God and man, even as he grows
in stature.
Miscellaneous News.
Tin from Dakota.
First Shipment of the Ore from the
blaok Hills.
CHICAGO, July 14.—The first tin ore
ever taken out in the Western Hemis
phere arrived at the Northwestern
Railway station to-day from the Black
Hills, Dakota, on its way to New York.
The importance of this fact, will be bet
ter understood when it is stated that
the United States now import $30,000,-
000 worth of tin annually. The ore,
which will reach this city to-day, is
from the mines of a company doing bus
iness at Harney's Peak, in the Black
llills, and which, owing to the amount
of money actually subscribed, and the
fact that it has taken possession of the
great tin deposits covering an area of
7,000 square miles, must be looked upon
as the greatest mining company extant.
Superintendent Baily, of the Harney's
Peak Company, who is in the city, said
to-day :
"The tin belt is situated around the
base of Harney's Peak, the highest
point in the hills, with an altitude of
8,443 feet. This mountain is the gran
ite core of the hills. The granite is 18
miles long north and south, by 13 wide
east and west. Around the line of con
tact with that and the s'ates,in a circle
ot from two to four miles wide the tin
belt exists. The outcrops of tin are
simply enormous, varying in width
from 10 to 200 feet, and appear above
the surface from 500 to 3,000 feet. In
some p'aces they stand from 5 to 30
feet above the surface, so hard as to re
sist the elements. The geological con
dition is the same as that of Cornwall,
England and other tin districts."
Starvation in Texas.
WEATIIERFORD, Tex., July 15.—A
telegram was sent to CongressuaanLan
ham yesterday at Washington, asking
him to secure Government aid for the
people of the drought-stricken regions
of Texas. Hundreds of families are
without the necessaries of life.'
120 Degrees in the Shade at Fort
Keogh.
FORT KEOGII, Mont., July 15.—The
mercury yesterday reached a maximum
of 120 degrees in the shade; There has
been no rain for a month.
—Baxter's Mandrake Bitters cure in
digestion, heart burn, costiveness and
all malarial diseases. Twenty-five cts.
per bottle. Sold by J. Spigelmyer and
D. S. Kauffman & Co., Millheim,
NO. 28-
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Hunting for a Panther.
A Savage Beast Prowling Around
Carbon County—A Girl's Nar
row Escape.
EASTON, Pa., July 14.—Miss Mary
Christraan, living two miles from Stony
Creek, Carbon county, while on her
way home yesterday from a visit to a
friend, was chased by a large panther.
She was walking on the Lehigh Valley
Railroad at the time. The panther
came from the side of the mountain,
and she did not discover it until it was
but a short distance from her. She
ran to the bouse near by .reaching there
in time to avoid being attacked. Tue
animal was about two feet high and
five feet long. The same panther chas
ed a lot of berry-pickers on the moun
tain during the afternoon. They ran
to llockport and gave the alarm. Last
evening several men, armed with rifles,
started for the mountain to search for
the beast, but up to noon to-day had
not succeeded in capturiug it. This is
supposed to be the same panther that
frightened the switchmen a* Penn Ha
ven a few weeks ago.
LOSSES BY STORMS.
Hail, Ram and Lightning in Lan.
oaster County.
LANCASTER, Pa., July 15 Parts of
Lancaster county were visited by se
vere hail storms yesterday afternoon
and evening, tbe most severe sweep
ing in a belt half a mile Wide through
Conestoga, East and West Lampeter,
Strasburg, Leacock and Earl town
ships. The tobacco was badly cut,
but luckily most of it is small, and
time will repair that damage. Where
the tobacco was well advanced.though,
the damage is irreparable. Tbe corn
was cut and knocked down, and tbe
oats was leveled to tbe ground as if a
heavy roller had been drawn over tbe
fields. Hailstones in Strasburg were
two and one-half inches long and half
an inch thick, and in New Holland
they were nearly as large as a man's
fist O'Brien's circus tent in New
Holland was flooded. It was pitched
in a hollow, and tbe water was over a
foot deep. Landis Brackbill's hog
pen in West Lampeter was struck by
lightning, and five sboats were killed.
Daniel Rocther's barn, in West Earl,
was struck by lightning and fired, but
the neighbors extinguished tbe flames.
A setting ben was killed.and the eggs
were burned black.
Heavy Storm at Baltimore.
BALTIMORE, July 15. —A terrible
rain storm visited this city to-night
It was more severe in tbe western
section, being a kind of waterspout,
unroofing many houses on Strieker
street and Harlem avenue. Harlem
square had trees torn up by the roots
and limbs of others were wrung off.
On Fremont avenue nearly all tbe
houses were flooded. The damage
will be great The storm broke at
Hollins street and moved northward
10 blocks to Harlem avenue. Joists
were caught up by the wind and hurl
ed through tho air, carrying the de
struction to windows and in some in
stances knocking chimneys and bricks
from the tops of buildings. At a late
hour to-night some of the streets are
impassable from the blockade of tin
roofs and scantling. No personal in
jury was siistaiued as far as can be
ascertained.
The Storm in Indiana.
MARION, Ind., July 15. —Reports of
of a wind, rain and hail storm which
swept over this county on Tuesday
show that the devastation was much
greater than indicated by the first re
ports. In some places hail fell and
covered the ground two inches, and
in other places corn, oats and fruits
are in a total loss. The corn stalks
are stripped and broken Oats are
beaten flat on the ground, and the
fruit is beaten from the trees. Wheat,
which was nearly all in the shock,
will, much of it, have to be gathered
out of the woods and corn-fields where
it was carried by the wind. Prob
ably a hundred buildings in the coun
ty were unroofed or blown down. The
damage is roughly estimated at $15,-
000.
Crops Cut to Pieces in Illinois.
CHICAGO, July 15—The growing
crops of some 30 square miles of ter
ritory in Champaign, Condit,Hensley,
and Tolono townships, Illinois, were
considerably damaged by the bail
storm of Tuesday night. Corn and
other yegetation were literally cut to
pieces. Thousands of panes of win
dow glass were broken. The loss can
not fall below SIOO,OOO. The storm
was accompanied by a whirlwind,and
its effects are seen on territory six
miles wide and twelve miles long.
Fruits and Crops Damaged In Ohio.
NEWARK, Ohio, July 15. This
city was visited by one of the most
severest storms eyer known,yesterday.
Over $50,000 damage was done, the
greatest loss being to the fruits and
growing crops. Several business
blocks had their roofs carried away.
Men, women and children were ter
ribly frightened. The storm was of
about an hour's duration, the wind
high, hail terrific, lightning fierce,and
rainfall heavy.