Bellefonte, Pa., December 6, 1889.
‘COMING BACK.
They say if our beloved ‘dead
£hould seek the old, familiar place,
Some stranger would be there instead,
And they would find no welcome face.
1 cannot tell how it might be
In other homes, but this 1 know—
Could my lost darling come to me,
That she would never find it so.
Oftimes the flowers have come and gone,
Qftimes the winter winds have blown;
The while her peaceful rest went on,
And I learued to live alone;
Have slowly learned. from day to day,
Jn all life's tasks to bear my part,
Rutwhether grave or whether gay
I hide her memory in my heart.
Fond, faithful love has blessed my way,
And friends are round me,true and tried ;
They have their place, but hers to-day
Is empty as the day she died.
How would I spring with bated breath,
And joy too deep for word or sign,
To take my darling home trom death
And once again o eall her mine.
I dare not dream the blissful dream,
Jt fills my heart with wild unrest,
Where yonder cold; white marbles gleam,
‘She still must slumber, God knows best.
TR ——
MATTY’S COURTSHIP.
Things Were Mired at First,
All Turned Out Well.
But
The picnic at Allen's Corners was
over. (Rather prematurely over, per-
haps, on account of ‘a tremendous
thunder-storm, accompanied by a tor-
nado-like gust .of wind and jagged
streaks of blue lightning, that seemed
to bury themselves in the ground.
Horses and vehicles were brought hur-
riedly to the edge of the platform ; the
young people dispersed like a flock of
sheep in various directions.
“I don’t care,” said Frank Warren,
speaking between his teeth. “I wasn't
having such a particularly pleasant
time. Matty Vail was behaving very
badly.” Sie
“It doesn’t make much difference to
me,” said Miss Vail, with a toss of
her curly head. “I've danced all 1
wanted to, and Frank Warren has been
glaring at ‘me like a Bluebeard the
whole time. Such impudence, indeed !
And me riot regularly engaged to him,
after all. One thing is quite certain,
I never shall be, now! And as for
riding all the way home to Daisyville
with him to-night, I won't do it.
There's that little girl from the city;
I’ll just put her in my place. Her
shoes are dreadfully thin, and she has
no umbrella. She'll be glad of a
chance toride. And I'll go with Har-
ry Dix or Sam Pratt?”
“Oh, Mat!” cried Miss Dillon, Mat-
ty’s chief contidante and bosom friend,
“what will he say?”
“What he pleases—when he finds it
out,”
So, when Mr. Warren's handsome
black horse was led up, shying and
rearing in the uncertain glimmer of
the lanterns and the flash of lightuing,
Matilda Howitt found herself, she
scarcely knew how, in the seat beside
the handsome young farmer. She sat
quite silent, wondering if it was im-
proper to ride kome with a gentleman
to whom she had been formally intro-
duced, and trembling,ever and anon, at
the storm and ber unwonted compan
ionship, and the wild speed of “Black
Douglas,” as hefiew along the pitch-
dark, dripping reads.
“Are you trightened?” Mr. Warren
asked, in a low voice, when they had
gone a little way.
“N-ot much!” faltered Matilda;
and then she trembled more than ever,
as an arm crept, slowly but surely,
around her waist. But what was she
to do. There was no back to the seat
—and there was danger of her being
jerked out, in one of those sudden
curves.
“Don’t be afraid,” soothed Warren.
“You know you are safe with me—in
spite of everything 1”
“Y-e-es,” murmured Matilda How-
itt.
“Matty I”
She was silent. This growing inti-
macy was beginning to ve appalling.
“Matty !"" accompanied with a gen-
tle pressure of the encircling arm.
“Don’t be cross with me, Matty. You
know how much I love you, my own
one!”
“Qh, gracious me?” thought Miss
Hewitt, “what will he besaying next?”
“You will promise me to ‘be my wife,
Matty? It may seem sudden, but—
Whoa, you villain !”
For “Black Douglas” had given a
tremendous sideways jump, and re-
quired all his master’s will and energy
to subdue him; and by the time they
had reached the Vail farm house,
Matilda Ifowitt found herself engaged,
by implication, to a young man she
never had seen before in her life until
that day.
She jumped out, and ran quickly in-
tothe house. Mrs. Vail met her in
ithe hall.
“Where's Matty ?” she cried. “Wha
are you?”
“I'm Matilda Howitt,” said the girl.
“I'm here because he left me. I—I
don’t quite know; but the horse be-
haved so badly, and the place where I
board is three miles beyond the swamp.
Please, can’t I stay all night 2”
“Why of course,” said Mrs. Vail
“You're the city school ma'am, ain't
you, that boards to Widow Dunkley’s ?
Come in, and sit down and dry your
clothes. Dreadful shower, ain't it?
1 do wish our Matty was safeat home!”
All this was very unconve: tional.
But, then, thought little Miss Howitt, |
country life is unconventional. In New
York it would have taken 2+ month, at
the very least, for a young man to
screw himself up to the proposing point.
Did she love this man well enough to
marry him? Well she was not al- |
together certain of that. But he was |
certainly very handsome, and her
Leart gave not an altogether unpleas-
ant jump when she remembered that
.
gentle pressure around her waist. If
this was love
But there the current of ber reflec-
tions was interrupted by the arrival of
Matty Vail herself—“Martha Alida”
was her christened named—in the
company of Mr. Sam Pratt, a dashing
cavalier of another village.
“It’s not late,” said Sam. “Can't I
come in? Just for a little while.”
“Nonsense, Sam,” said the belle.
“Oh, now, Marty!”
“Nonsense, I say.’, And Miss Vail
shut the door in Mr. Pratt's face with a
laugh.
“He's not half so pleasant as Frank,
after all,” said Matty to herself; and
then followed an interview with her
unexpected guest.
“How nice” cried Matty. “We
can sleep together, and talk everything
over, can’t we? Oh, no, ma, I'm not
wet much, and youn needn’t have saved
tea for us. We had a lovely supper in
the woods.
“Oh 1” ered Matilda ITowitt, clasp-
ing Miss Vail’s hand, “I've so much to
tell you!”
Matty’s eyes sparkled.
“What did he say?”
“T° tell vou after the lamp is out,”
said Miss Howitt hanging down her
head.
“You don’t mean ——
“Yes, I do,” whispered Miss How-
itt.
“He really and actually did——pro-
pose I"?
“Nonsense!” said Matty Vail, biting
her lip. “You must have misunder-
stood him.”
“Misunderstood, indeed !”” retorted
Miss Howitt. “I'm sure he spoke
plain enough.”
“But you wouldn't accept a man who
was caug 1t in such a trap as that?”
“A tra, 77 stammered Miss Howitt.
“Yes—of course. He thought it was
me.”
“Do you suppose he did?” (in falter-
ing accents.)
“There can’t be a doubt about it.”
“Then, of course, there's an end of
this matter,” said Matilda, with a little
quiver in her voice.
“But you tell me just what he said ?”
“No; I certainly shall not betray his
confidence.”
“Confidence, indeed!” flashed ont
Matty Vail. “A pretty confidence !
but do tell me just for the jose of the
matter”
Matilda was silent.
no joke.
“I'd have you know that I have had
a proposal, too,” added Matty, brush-
ing out her luxuriant blonde tressess.
“That ridiculous Pratt. Of course, I
only put him off. Ido think all men
are crazy |”
Matilda Howitt made no answer, but
she shed a few silent bitter tears after
she was in bed. The sensation of be-
ing engaged was very pleasant. It
was a pity that it had been so brief!
“As good as engaged to Matty Vail,
are you ?”’ said Mr. Warren, who had
met Sam Pratt at the post-office next
day. “May I ask when this happen-
ed?” .
“Last night coming home from the
picnic.”
“As it happened, she came home
with me” said Warren.
Sam Pratt rubbed his hands gleeful-
1:
Yuan that was a joke, old fellow,”
said he. “You brought home the lit-
tle New York school teacher, who
boards at Ma'am Dunkley’'s! Matty
Vail managed all that. You don’c
mean to say you never found out? I
tell yon, Mat and I had a good laugh
over it going home.”
Frank Warren. set his teeth tightly
together. The girl who could enjoy
“a good laugh” with Sam Pratt over
such a practical joke as this was rap-
idly losing caste in his estimation.
“I congratulate you,” said he,some-
what bitterly.
“Knew you'd be pleased, old fellow,”
said Sam, smiling broadly. “But
they tell me the school-teacher takes it
terribly hard. Cried all night. Went
home before daylight on foot, all the
way to the swamp. Thought that you
were dead in love with her. Didn't
like the idea of its being a putup job.”
Frank Warren turned upon him
with a sudden flash in his eyes.
“And who told you,” said he “that
it was a pat up job?”
“Eh?” Sam’s gooseberry colored
orbs dilated with surprise. “You don’t
tell me ¥
Frank Warren went straight to the
Widow Dunkley’s, and asked for Miss
Howitt. Matty came to him with
cheeks unnaturally red, and a restless
sparkle in her dark gray eyes.
“T—T am very sorry.’she began.
“Sorry for what ? Not that I asked
you to be my wife, I hope” said the
young man cheerily.
She was not as pretty as Matty Vail,
he thought, but she was dainty and
delicate, like a violet blossoming in
the shade.
“But you didn’t mean it?” she fal-
tered.
“I am not in the habit of saying
what I don’t mean. I am here to con-
firm my last night's words. Will you
confirm vours, Miss Howitt ?
“But I know so little of you, Mr.
Warren.”
“That's a disability which can easi-
ly be remedied by time. Won't you
trust me, Matty ?”" and he held out his
hand.
And she decided to trust him.
The village belle was discomfitted
beyond measure when she heard that
her practical joke had turned into re-
ality. For, in her secret heart, she had
loved Frank Warren as much as it was
in her to love anybody.
“Engaged to you, indeed,” she cried
to Sam Pratt, with blazing eyes. “How
dare you to say such a thing? I
wouldn’t marry vou if there wasn't an-
other man in the world!”
And Mr. Pratt departed, inconsol- |
able.
As for Mr. Warren, he never had |
cause to repent his sudden resolve.
Matilda Howitt made him the best of |
gentle little wives.
“Although it was rather unconven-
tional, that wooing of yours, Frank,”
1
To her it was
“Now, wasn’t it!”
“Well, rather so, I must admit.”
said the young husband. “However,
Matty, all's well that ends well, you
know.’
And Matty Vail's practical joke has
ended in a fine prospect of her being
an old maid at last.—Amy Randolph,
in N. Y. Ledger.
said she.
Saved By A Match.
Awful Plight of Two Prospectors in a
Blizzard.
they enjoyed a substanial meal, and
after bucking snow a whole afterr.oon
they succeeded in getting off the flat-
tops.
Their awful experience they never
will forget, and they are firmly con-
vinced that a match saved their lives.
Harrison's Civil Service Sham,
WasHINGTON, November 20.—Day
by day the hypocrisy of the Harrison
administration in regard to civil service
is being disclosed. It is reported that
the president will attempt to keep up the
deception in his forthcoming message,
but his protestations will not hoodwink
The most trivial circumstances some-
times changes, the entire current of a
man’s life, and often the lives of men
are saved by the merest chance.
Two gentlemen in Leadville, Col.,
know how true this is, as one of them
was saved from a horrible death by a
match.
by themselves, happened in the follow-
ing manner :
One summer they concluded to devote
the whole of their attention to prospect-
ing, and started, with pack-animuls, for
a section of country in Garfield County
that was at the time creating consider
able comment among miningmen. They
leftthe city at the beginning of summer,
well equipped with ail the [necessaries
required by prospectors.
action was reached without incident
worthy of any special mention, except,
perhaps, the loss of one of their pack
animals which
Grand River while fording. They had
the usukl experience that prospectors
have, and also the usual amount of
trouble with their pack animals.
After the first week they got used to
all the petty annoyances and took them,
ina matter of-fact manner.. Atter spend-
ing six weeks in the new country they
left, as they found nothing to suit them
and, like a great many new countries, it
proved to te a fizzle, and the mineral
that was reported to be in large quanti-
ties has, as yet, never been discovered.
The two prospectors, on learning of the
new fields, went in a westerly direction
and thoroughly looked the country over.
Several good prospects were struck and
the work done on them. It was now
the middle of October, and they con-
cluded that it was time to return home.
The jacks were packed, and they started
across country for home. The route
that they laid out took them over the
flat-tops, as it was the nearest road to
Leadville. .
The third .day out they saw that a
storm was brewing, and not wishing to
be caught on tue flat-tops, they rushed
their animals through, but night came
before they reached a valley, and they
were obliged to camp on the high
ground. Everything was made snug
for the nicht, and wishing that the
storm would blow over they rapped
themselves in their blankets and laid
down to rest. About midnight they
were awakened from their sleep by the
howling of the wind, which whistled
through the trees under which they
amped. The heavens were black, and
the two men knew the storm would
soon descend. They had not long to
wait before the first flake of snow fell,
and the storm broke with terrific force.
Noone who has never spent a night an
the flat-tons during asnow-stormecan form
any idea of the fearful velocity at which
the wind travels, and how dreary and
lonesome the surrounding country be-
comes. The two men were by this
time thoroughly aroused to the danger
of their position, and longed for day-
light to appear. By this time the
snow was falling thickly, and was being
whirled hither and thither by the ever-
changing wind. Morning at last
dawned, and they started out in search
of their animals in the face of the awful
blizzard determined to leave the country
at all hazards. The progress was slow,
as the snow had drifted heavily, and
when they came to where they had turn-
ed their horses loose the previous even-
ing, the animals had left.
When the storm started the stock
started before it, and the time the pros-
pectors reached where they should have
been, the animals were some miles away.
The men kept on trailing them, and,
when evening was approaching they
were nearly played out, and made up
their minds to camp. It was a long and
weary tramp, and when half the distance
was traveled they had to give it up, and
made camp for the night under a shel-
tering pine tree. One of the men was
completely played out and could not go
a step further, and, although it was bit-
terly cold when the spot to camp was
selected, he stretched himself out on the
ground thoroughly exhausted and cared
not whether he died or lived. His com-
panicn, being stronger, started to get
some wood tegether, and encouraged his
compnnion with cheering words. He
knew that if he did not get a fire started
pretty soon his partner would freeze to
death. Tt did not take long to collect
the firewood, cut some shavings and
have everything in readiness to start the
fire. He put his hand in his pocket,
when to his horror the match-safe was
gone.
Every pocket was searched, but not ‘a
match could he find. He rifled the
pockets of his friend with the same re-
sult, The realization of the awful po-
tition he was placed in struck him, and
he knew that without a fire certain death
stared his companion in the face, if not
himself. Once more he searched, and,
to his joy, found one solitary match in
his vest-pocket. The wind was still
blowing and snow drifting. Would he
succeed in kindling the fire? was the
question he asked himself.
Under a fallen log he found some dry
withered grass and twigs, which he care-
fully put in bis hat ; he whittled some
more shavings, procured more small
twigs, and with a prayer on his lips
knelt down, lit the match, applied it to
the grass, saw it suddenly blaze up and
as suddenly go out; but before it did
one of the shavings had ignited, the
flame extended to the rest and to the
twigs. When they blazed up he knew
that they were saved. Logs were piled
on, and the hardy prospector turned his
attention to his friend, whom he lifted
up and carried to the fire. The warmth
soon revived him, and all that dreary
night the two sat befora the fire, every
now and again throwing a fresh log on,
afraid to sleep for fear of being frozen.
When morning came the strom had
passed, and they started out after their
{ stock, which, fortunately for them, they
found not far from their improvised | beaten.
cabin,
The circumstance, as related
The scene of |
was drowned on the |
{ anybody unless it is himself. But there
i is room for reform, as hundreds of ap-
pointments already made are simply dis-
| graceful. To show this it is only neces-
| sary to glance at Harrison’s own State,
| [ndiana, where it may be presumed that
| officeseekers than elsewhere.
| his appointments ave exconviets, indict-
led thieves, bawdy house keepers, scam ps
| and scalawags of every description.
| .
ese rotten an sorac . ) ;
Th d disgraceful Indiana Shant 4 wack an. batt wis eet ont
: : ; ) { last Friday TOC at either the
| tain contingency of the campaign that | 7 AROMA iene
At one time in the
| appointments are explained by a cer-
| elected Harrison.
contest it looked as if he was going to
| Jose his own State. In great haste all
the Republican workers in the State
were called to Indianapolis to meet Har-
rison, Huston, New, Michener and
"others. The presidential candidate
{ came before the meeting with tears in his
eyes and in a pathetic way told his hear-
ers of the danger and made them under-
stand that it was to their interest as well
as his own that they should bestir them-
selves.
County chairmen were told to go
home, raise all the money they could
and make desperate eflorts to carry the
ticket through. In the event of success
they were to have the control of the
patronage in their respective counties.
Carrying out this policy, every govern-
ment oflice in the State was literally
sold, and there was not a crossroads
postoffice that was not provided for in
this way.
After the election the promised ben-
ificiaries were in high glee, but some of
them have been disappointed. Almost
the first appointment in Indiana was
that of a man who had bought
goods of son-in-law McKee, he being pre-
ferred to one who had contributed to
the campaign fund. In Lawrence
county one William Erwin had contri-
buted $200 to the campaign with the
understanding that he was to be post-
master of Bedford. After the election
Colonel Robinson, an old friend of Har-
rison, became a candidate, and itis be-
lieved that he has been promised the
lice. In the same county John L.
Don gave $250, for which his broth-
er George was to be made postmaster at
Mitchell. After the election one Woods
turned up claiming thai he had given
$200 for the same place. A partial
compromise was effected by Wouds
agreeing to pay back the $250 to Dod-
son when the former gotthe office.
Some of Harrison’s appointments are
disgraceful almost beyond belief. A
man named Moore, a postoffize clerk at
Indianapolis, was removed by the Dem-
ocratic postmaster because he kept a
gambling house. The present postmas-
ter, Wallace, a Harrison appointee, has
restored him to duty. Ben Bagely, a
negro, convicted of the ruin of a young
girl, has been appointed a mail carrier
by Postmaster Wallace. Another ap-
pointment is that of Ambrose Hamlin
to be a letter carrier. He was arrested
for the betrayal of a fifteen-year-old
girl, and only escaped pumshment by
the payment of a large sum of money
by his father. Harry McFarland, of
Indianapolis, was appointed assistant
foreman of the press room of the govern-
ment printing office. He has been no-
torious in Indianapolis for years as the
husband ot Mattie Douglass, the keeper
of the most notorious bawdy house at
the Hoosier capital.
A Captain Johnson, formerly an In-
dianapolis bartender, has recently got
a nice, soft place in the treasury depart-
ment here. He was arrested some years
ago for the murder of a young physi-
cian, but was acquitted on a technicali-
ty, although many believe him guilty.
For many years he drew a pension for
daisability which it was discovered he
had before the war. The pension was
cut off, but since his appointment
Blocks-of-Five Dudley has had him re-
stored to the pension roll and secured for
him $1600 back pay.
Eli C. Homaday has been appointed
timber agent. He is a most notorious
man, having associated with a low wom-
an named Fanny Bates in the operation
of a disorderly house in Terra Haute
known as “Long Branch.” He sue-
ceeded in swindling an old farmer of
Hau ilton out of several thousand dol-
lars. For this he is still under indict-
ment in Hamilton county. Dan Rans-
dell, Marshal of the District of Colum-
bia, has appointed his younger brother
toa position. The latter was convicted
of robbing the mails, but was saved
from the penitentiary by a purdon from
President Arthur, secured by Senator
Harrison. Young Ransdell gave as an
excuse for his knavery that he was keep-
ing a woman and his salary was not
sufficient to support her.
A man named Rochester F. Robb has
been appointed a chief of division in the
Teasury department at a salary of
$2200 a year by Treasurer Huston.
Some years ago, while Robh was a Bee
Line ticket acent at Terre Haute, he
embezzled $800, and had a narrow escape
from the penitentiary. Soon after-
ward, Robb turned up at St. Lonis, and
Colonel Ford, now general passenger
agent of the
him an uptown
Iron Mountain road.
months he stole over $1500,
Colonel Ford had to pay. He gets his
present appointment as a reward for
some dirty political work last fall.
These are but samples of the kind of
men that have been appointed to office
in Indiana and from Indiana. It
would be unjust to Indianians to assume
that the appointments made in that
State are any worse than those made
in other States. Therefore the civil
service appointments made by Harrison
as a whole ought to be judged by those
of Indiana. i
i —————
i
|
{
|
ArrLE CREAM.—-Six large apples;
stew and mash them to a pulp. When
cold add the whites of six egrs will
Add five spoons of sugar, stir
On returning to their first camp ' until creamy, and flavor to taste.
| he knows more of the personality of |
Among |
Pennsylvania lines, got |
ticket office for the;
In less than three
which |
Animal Babies in the Philadelphia Zoo.
Philadelphia Record.
Probably the proudest creature in the
Zoological Garden is Bob, leopard, who
is now enjoying his first taste of the
pleasures of paternity, and the fashion in
which he displays his joy at the sight of
his two tiny infant children is one of
the most amusing sights to be seen in the
Garden ‘ust now. The large cage in
the lion-house where Mr. and Mrs. Bob
reside is divided by a partition of iron
bars, and husband and wife occupy
separate quarters. In Mrs. Bob’s apart-
ment an opening in the floor communi-
cates with a nest underneath, where the
lady of the family and her two children
spend most of their time ina bed of hay.
Bob himself is exiled to the other apart-
ment of the cage for the time being,
much to his surprise and disgust, as he
is manifestly of the opinion that a father
should be entitled to the society of his
wife and children at all times.
PAPA BOB WAS VERY ANXIOUS.
The two little leopards were born
mother or her offspring were seen. But
meanwhile the kitten-like squealing
that came from the nest made it known
to the keepers that there were some
small specimens of ithe leopard family
there. During all thedays of waiting
Bob displayed the greatest anxiety and
curiosity concerning his absent wife and
the strange sounds that came from the
nest. He climbed to the top of his cage
and peered down into the hole ; he sat
for hours upon the shelf in his cage with
his eyes riveted upon the nest, and in all
his antics he kept a sharp watch upon
the adjoining cage. Bob is about five
years old, having been in the Garden
since he was a mere kitten. His wife is
ten years his senior. The twins just
born are their first children.
FIRST GLIMPSE AT HIS CHILDREN.
While Bob was perched upon his’
shelf lust Friday afternoon, gazing in-
tently at the opening over the nest, Mrs,
Bob’sgraceful head and neck appeared
cautiously above the floor. She bowed
to herspouse, who stretched out his claws
and swished his long tail violently. She
then disappeared. A moment later her
head again appeared, and this time a
tiny spotted cub was between her jaws.
Bob expressed his astonishment and de-
light by a mighty bound that took him
to the end of his eaze, where he rolled
over and over, and then clambered to
the top of his cage to let himself drop
upon the plank with a tremendous
whack. Antics of this sort were con-
tinued for half an hour, Mrs. Bob
meanwhile slipping back into her nest
and reappearing with another leopard
kitten to show to her lord and master.
Then she retired for the day, and it was
not until Saturday afternoon that she
gave Bob another glimpse of the little
ones. The young father is distracted
with joy and pride, and cuts up the
queerest antics that have ever been seen
in the Garden. When tired of his acro-
batic performances, he lies upon his
back and claws the air.
BABY SEAL IS A LITTLE FRESH.
The little seal that was born on the
day of Johnstown’s great flood has
grown rapidly, and 1s now as fat as but-
ter. The youngster is very frolicsome,
likes company, and is a pet with every-
body. When Head Keeper Byrne walks
past the pool the little fellow disports
himself in great glee and makes a tre-
mendous splashing. Although nearly
six months old the seal is still an infant
and is fed by its mother. The little
chap, however, evidently thinks he is
old enough to enjoy more independence,
and he endeavors now and then to eat the
food that his father and mother teed up-
on. Ther diet consists of fish, which
are thrown to thew in the water, and to
prevent the little seal from helping him-
self the father and mother drive him
from the water at meal-time every day.
Lest the winter should be too severe up-
on the young and tender child a neat
little house has been built in one corner
of the inclosure, where he can retire in
extreme cold weather. The infant has
not yet been need, although scores of
gentlemen who have visited the Garden
have suggested their dauchters’ names
to Head Keeper Byrne. The latter has
been obliged to tell them that names of
that kind would not fit.
Pennsylvania’s War Claims.
They Aggregate $3,000,000, Which Un-!
cle Sain Will Be Asked to Pay.
CHAMBERSBURG, Nov. 21.--Gover-
nor Beaver, Auditor-General McCamant, |
Attorney-General Kirkpatrick and |
several members of the State Legislature,
who constitute a Commission to lay be-
fore Congress the claims of the border
counties of Pennsylvania for extraordin-
ary losses incurred by rebel invasion
during the late war,and to demand their
payment by the Government, met here
yesterday to organize and to consult with
representatives of the border counties,
The claims for the burning ot Cham-
bersburg and for the losses in other |
counties aggregate about $§,000,000. |
The State of Pennsylvania las made |
three separate appropriations amounting |
to $900,000 towards the relief of the!
sufferers. |
It is the intention of the Conmission, |
backed by the united Pennsylvania del- |
ecation in Congress, to ask! that the |
State be reimbursed for its outlay and |
that the balance of the claimsbe paid.
The Commission effected a tmporary |
organization. It will meet again at |
Harrisburg early in December and pro-
ceed to Washington to pmsent the |
claims to Congress.
|
|
A Valid Contract. |
The Kentucky ccurts hava just de- |
, cided 8 question which may besf interest |
to many young men who ard contem-
| platiny swearing off smoking gnd have
not vet decided to take the mond plunge
in the matter. Some time sine an old
lady of Lexington promised her grand-
son $300 if he would stop smoling fora
certain specified period. He pecepted
the conditions, but in the meantme the
old lady died and left no provkion for
pavment of the debt. The yotng man
fultilled his contract to the l@ter and
then sued her estate for the $53), which
the highest court in the Statehas just
awarded him on the ground that the
agreement was perfectly valid gnd bind-
ing.
By R (il Across The Andes.
A Duplicateof Our Union Pacific Road
Jin South America.
The ge 1892 will probably be sig-
nalized #n South America by a most in-
teresting event in civil engineering and
in wtsnaona overiand commerce.
This will be nothing less than the com-
pletion! of the trans-Andean railway,
forming another railroad line from the
Atlantic to the Pacific, and the first
across the continent of South America.
It is 19 yearssince this work wa: begun,
and it is now confidently expected that
it; will be finished by the beginning of
1892. The road is to run from Buenos
Ayers to Valparaiso, a distance of 871
miles. There are now 640 miles of it
finished at the Buenos Ayers end, and
82 at the Valparaiso end. Of the re-
maining 149 miles about one-third is
practically complete, the rails being
laid.
The passage of the Andes is accom-
plished at the Cumber Pass, which is
13,015 feet above the sea level. The
railroad, however, does not reach the
summit of the pass, but pierces the
mountains by means of a tunnel more
than three miles long, at an elevation of
10,450 feet above the sea. This makes
it one of the highest, if not the highest,
railroad in the world. There is nothing
in Europe to compare with it. The St.
Gothard railroad is 3788 feet high,
and that on the Rigi only attains an
elevation of 5753 feet. The grades are,
of course, very steep. For a consider-
able distance the rise is more than 422
feet to the mile, or one foot in every
12}. On this portion of the line a rack-
rail is employed, similar to those on the
Hartz and other mountain roads.— New
York Star.
Snapped Up For Wives.
It is Almost Impossible to Keep a Ser-
vant Girl in Montana.
Perhaps the demand for domestic
servants is as generally unsatisfied in
the Northwest as in any other section,
writes a Montana correspondent. 1
have yet to visit the happy, happy land,
where the servant girl problem does not
exist as the principal source of domestic
gloom, but here it is certainly to be
found at its worst. It is utterly impos-
sible to keep a girl.
The female half of the population,
while large and growing, is still in a
considerable measure the smaller half,
and young women of every degree are
quoted higher than they would fetch
east of the Allechanies. This remark
may not be gallant, and yet it ought to
be valuable to such young women in the
East who feel themselves unappreciated.
The cases are counted in hundreds
where a girl has entered a family as a
cook or chambermaid and thereafter re-
mained as daughter-in-law. It is high-
ly unprofitable to fetch girls from east-
ern eities.
If they are worth their salt they go off
and get married often before they have
earned the price of their railway fare.
Servants’ wages are 100 per cent. higher
in Montana than in Nev York. The
cook on the railway dining cars receive
$60 a month. In private families $30
is the lowest wages offered, and some
are paid as much as $100. The girl ex-
periment is so generally unsatisfactory
that many families employ negro men
and Chinamen. The way to get a
Chinaman is to telbanother Chinaman
you want one. He will spare you all
the trouble and expense of dealing with
an employment agency. An officer at
Fort Custer who had imported girl after
girl only to have them come to him
within a month or two and simper out
that they were going to get married,
was at last advised by a friend to pro-
cure a Mongohan. “I have one,”
said the friend, “and is a perfect jewel.
If you like, I'll tell him to find one for
you.”’ diy
The officer gladly consented, and in
the course of a day or two, when his
wife went to the kitchen to prepare din-
ner, she found a Chinaman, cued and
white-vested, already at work among
the pots and pans. She cheerfuliy re-
tired in his favor. About a week later,
when the officer and his wife sat down
to dinner, they observed that the hea-
then in attenuunce upon them was not
the heathen who had been serving them
for the past week, but an entirely new
and; different one. They also observed that
the dinner before them was much super-
ior to the dinners their late heathen had
supplied. They presently inquired of
their new heathen what had become of
their old one.
“He no good,” answered John.. “He
some washee, but no cookee. Wing Ting
tell him go and hesay me come.”
re rm se ———
It Was Raining.
“esterday afte ) ile rai
Yesterday afternoon while the rain
| was pouring down a ¢itizen left the post
office to encounter an acquaintance who
was also sheltered by an umbrella.
“Raining, isn’t it ?”’ queried the first.
“Hey 7"?
“Raining, isn’t it?”
“I'd like to see you a moment,” was
the reply. “Come up-stairs.”
The two passed up, traversed the dark
hall to its darkest corner, and then No.
| 2 turned on No. 1 with;
“Do you take me foran infernal idiot?”
“Why, no, of course not.”
“Do you suppose I'm carrying an um-
brella around to keep the san oft at this
time of year?”
“No.”
“I'm carrying it to keep the rain off,
{am I not?”
“Of course.”
«Well, then, 1t rains. You know it
rains. Everybody in town knows it
rains. Now you go on and let people
i alone.”
“But—but—"'
“That's all. You let it rain. She
knows her business. You just attend to
vour own affairs and let the weather
alone. Good day, sir.”
And he went clumping down stairs
and left the other to follow at his leisure,
—- Detroit Free Press.
A S16N oF SoMETHING K1sB.—Musk-
rats in the Northwest are building
houses three stories high, with mansard
root’ and bay-windnws, and steam heat
in the cellar. Some persons may think
this is ® sien of a hard winter, but it
isn’t. It is a sign that somcbody is
p ST —— © { L .
lying.— Norrisiown Herald