aa 1 EE ——— Bellefonte, Pa., Feb. 5, 1892. WHAT A BOY CAN DO. These are some of the things that a boy can do: He can whistle so loud that the air turns blue, He can make all sounds of beast and bird, And a thousand noises never heard. He can crow or cackle, or he can cluck As well as a rooster, hen or duck ; He can bark likea dog, he can low like a cow ; And a cat itself can’t beat him “me-ow.” He has sounds that are ruffed, striped and plain He can thunder past like a railway train, Stop at the station a breath, and then Apply the steam and be off again. He has all his powers in such command Ha can turn right into a full brass band, With all of the instruments ever played, As he makes of himself a street parade. You can tell that a boy is Yery ill If he's wide awake and keeping still ; But earth would be—God bless their noise !— A dull old place if they were no boys. + Re -—-——————— A NEW YEAR'S IDYL. He resolved to leave off smoking, Swearing, chewing, nasty joking, Drinking, gambling, never poring ? Hisruddy nasal organ into other folk’s affairs. His great goodness—so folks réckoned— Made the angels glad—they beckoned, And on January second He started, hare and happy, up the broad celestial stairs. f f —Music and Drama. AGAINST WIND AND TIDE. By ANNA SHEILDs. People in Maysville always shrugged their shoulders when Mark Lanson was mentioned, and usually the ex- pressive gesture was followed by some depreciating remark. : “ Comes of bad stock,” old Judge Lennox would say in his pompous, dic- tatorial manner. ¢ All the Lamsons were worthless, and Mrs. Lamson was a Hodge, and everybody knows what they are.” The house in which Mark was born, and where be scrambled up to man- hood, was a large farm house, tum- bling to pieces inside, with a roof al- ways being patched against leaking, doors without locks and with shaking hinges, windows that rattled in every wind, ceilings that dropped plaster whenever a neavy foot shook the up- per rooms and furniture in the last stage of shabbiness. His father and mother were slatternly in dress, shift- less in household management, and the handsome, bright boy was over-indul- ged and neglected as their own indo- lence suggested. But Mark Lamson inherited none of the leading traits of his parents.” Prob- ably in some remote ancestor there was a mixture of energy, resolution and ability of which the Maysville gossips had never heard, and for which they certainly gave Mark no credit. It was in vain that the Principal of the Mays- ville High School declared that Mark had graduated with the best record he had ever given 1n the school. It was useless for the lad himself to keep his life free from blame, and earnestly en- deavor to do his duty. Maysville could not forget he was a Lamson and his mother was a Hodge—‘‘bad stock !”’ As he passed from boyhood to man- hood, Mark began the unequal strug gle against fate and circumstances, that was dictated only by his own ener- gy. His father had been able to get bread from the farm by a lazy tillage that gave the bare necessities for the table ; his mother had a very small in- come that gave the three clothing of the poorest description, and both were in open-mouthed wonder that Mark was not content, as they had been, to dawdle through life and “make out” with what they had. And Mark, strugeling to attain bet- ter things, with only a vague, undisci- plined longing for improvement, mei no encouragement at home or abroad. He tried to obtain a situation, but em- ployers were shy about giving work to a Lamson; he met bat a cool recep: tion at the Maysville social gatherings, having no knowledge of how to repair his own linen or keep his poor clothing even tidy. Boy-like he imagined a new suit and a gay necktie were all-suffi- cient fora party, and did not heed the frayed cufls and broken collars at which the Maysville belles turned up their noses. But, in spite of his father’s lazy com- ments, his mother’s fretful remonstran- ces, Mark Lamson, finding no em- ployment outside, determined to see if the farm would not find him in work. “Oh, yes; do as you please,” his father said. “ But there is no money for new-fangled fixings, and the land is about worn out. Plenty of ‘it, to be sure, but "taint worth shucks.” So. single-handed, Mark undertook the work of bringing up the old farm. larly and late he toiled, repairing fences. weeding, picking stones, rooting out dead stumps, preparing his land, without one hand stretched out to help hini; ose voice to wish him sucess, Thomas, the only-man his father em- ployed, gave a surly refusal to aid, up- on the ground that his regular routine of shiftless farming took all bis time, and Mark patiently submitted. He was, twenty-one years old, when into his dull, monotonous life came a new stimulus—a hope, bright as a vision and alinost as baseless, He fell in love! He did not walkin cautiously, counting his steps and weighing his chances, but he fel! in plump, suddenly, hopelessly. There had been a warm discussion at tbe Judge's about inviting Mark to the | party that was to celebrate ILssie's eighteenth birthday and her final re- turn from boarding school. But the pet of the house had a will of her own and a ‘lively recollection of Mark's handsome face and boyish gallantries, and insisted upon his heing invited. Mark, carrying in his memory only a pretty little gir], found himself confron- ed by an undeniable beauty; a face to win homage in far more pretentious circles than Maysville boasted, and a gentle grace of manner none of the girls of his acquaintance had ‘ever éx- tended to him. The touch of the soft little hand offered to greet him riveted the chains Essie’s face had cast about Mark's heart, and made him her slave then and there. He had starved all his life for sympathy,and his first half-hour with Essie filled his longing heart with con- tent. She remembered all the boyish aspirations ; she entered into all his hopes and ambitions. The party wae the beginning of ‘an intercourse that stimulated anew every good resolution, ave a new vigor to every hope of $iari's life. The village was essentially democratic, child and heiress of the ‘richest most influential man in the place did not pre- vent her from visiting Mrs. Lamson upon terms of perfect equality, She was fond of the weak amiable woman, strongly as she cehsured, in her youth- ful strength, the easy-going indolence that made her home such a scene of confusion and discomfort ; and in her gentle, pleasant way, she, endeavored to brighten that home for Mark by suggestions and offers of help that fell to the ground. . It was like fighting a feather bed to try to rouse Mrs. Lam- gon to an active improvement, and re- buffed there,Essie could only help Mark by words of sympathy that were like wine of life to his love. “ i An hour with Essie sent him back to his uphill work full of new hope, every energy stimulated, every hope brightened. He had not dared to set before him in plain words the hope of one day winning her heart to his own, for there was all the humility of true passion in that young, ardent heart, but he realized a new force, a new spur to ambition. Essie never sneered at him as the neighbors had become accustomed to doing ; Essie never threw cold water over his plans for improving the land ; Essie was never sarcastic over the clashing of his poverty and his ambi- tions. As he saw her more frequently, he ventured to tell her of wider, wild- er hopes, of some day escaping from the drudgery before him, and making his way to a city, where his education might give him a start in more congen- ial occupation. “ Father and mother seem to need me, now,” he told Essie, one day; “they are old, and they have no other child. Ithick it is my plain duty to stay.” “I think itis,” was the quick reply ; ‘your mother could scarcely bear a separation.” “ And while I am here, I must do the work that lies under my hand,” he said, “hard as it is! But Essie,” and his face brightened, “do you know that (already I have made the farm pay double what it has ever done. Next Spring I can hire help out of money I saved from the sale of last vear’serops! Essie, all eager interest, entered into discussion of the capabilities of such a lot for tarnips, such a patch for wheat, the possibilities of a dairy, the best culture for fowls, as if .she had never studied music or filled her head with French and German verbs. But the horror and wrath of Judge Lennox, when, after two years of mild courtship, Mark took his fate in his bands and asked permission to marry Essie, cannot be described. “A Lamson!” he cried, when hav- ing dismissed Mark hLereturned to the bosom of his family. “ A Lamson for Essie’s husband! The fellow wants my money to spend aiter all his father and his grandfather have squandered.” ‘ Do you really and truly think Mark is a ependtbrift, papa ?”’ Essie asked quietly. “Does he ever lounge about the stores or taverns, as Harry Carter and James Rayburn do |” “I—Well, no, I never saw him,” was the reluctant admission. “ Did you ever hear that he drank or gambled, or even ~moked ? “ N-o—1I never di.” “Is he not regular at church 2” * Ye—ee.” * But, oh, Essie!” struck in Mrs Lennox. * What shabby, half-washed shirts he wears, and his fingers all out of his gloves, and half the buttons of his coat gone!” “ Poor Mark!” said Essie, gently. “ He neeas a wife.” “Well, he need not look here for one,” growled the Judge. “1 heard Mr. Thompson say, la:t week,” said Essie. quietly, *“ that there is not a better farm in Greene County than Lamson’s.” “ Such a palace of a house!” the Judge sneered. “ Mark is hoping to put a new house on the place, next year. He has had builders over from B , but they say the old house is beyond repair and it would cost less to have a new one.” ** And where is the money to come from 27’ ‘ { ¢ Where the improved farm came from,” said Essie, “from Mark’s indus- try, perseverance and energy, in the face of the hardest discouragements ever a young man had to fight.” “Eh!” said the Judge. * What? What 27 .* See what he has done,” said Essie, i still in an even, quiet tone that carried | conviction far more than an excited | one. “Eight years ago when he was | but a boy, he put his shoulder to the | wheel and took his playtime between | {school hours to weed and clear away ‘stones. Nobody helped him. Ie wag i ridiculed, sneered at and discouraged on all sides, He had the poorest farm in the place, and he has made it one of | the best. He has put every spare dol- ; lar into books on agrieniture, improved machines, good stock. four men at work for him. good horses, good cattle, good poultry, and he will | have a good honse. Papa, do you not think it will be a pity to have the new house in the care of Mrs. Lamson, to ruin as'she has the old one? Qut-doors the management is all left to Mark, and see'what he has done. Buta man cannot mc kea homecomfortable alone: | he needs a wife.” “ Well,” said the Judge. “let him have one, but not my child.” “Still he loves me,” said Essie, “and I'love him !” and the fact that Essie was the only He has now | “ Pshaw!” said the Judge, and marched out of the house. But proud as he was, ‘he was just, and he loved Essie. He hadlet preju- dice influence him against Mark all his life ; now he took pains to find out bow much of his dislike was well foun- ded. Grudgingly enough was the ver- dict given in Mark’s tavor. Mayvsville did not willingly acknowledge it had been wrong in its estimate, and shoul dered upon Mark all the faults of his ancestors. But the facts were strong, and Judge Lennox found himself con- fronted by them. Slowly, for he was not easily convinced, he took respect into the place of contempt, and after a month of patient _investigation, sent for Mark. The interview was a frank, manly one, the old gentleman not being given to half hesrted measures of any kind. He heartily commended the young man who had struggled so nobly. “When your new houseis finished,” he said, “I will let my Essie be your wife. A man who can make his way against wind and tide as you have done, deserves a happy home.” The Judge being a power in Mays- ville public opinion veered round, “as soon as the engagement was announ- ced. The new house being completed. Essie became housekeeper, Mrs. Lam- son gladly resigning her feeble reign. And under the new regime it was won- derful to see how even the old people smartened up. They had no chronic objection to cleanliness, if someone else did the necessary work , and with Mark and Essie to govern and direct, the Lamson household so lost its old name, that you could scarcely find to- day in Maysville one voice to repeat the old saying that “Mark Lamson came of bad stock.”—The Ledger. Some Words About Coffee. Grind Your Own—Can Buy it Nicely Roasted— Ong-Third Mocha, Two Thirds Java. From Harper's Bazar. Much has been written and printed concerning coffee. Cook books all con- tain recipes for preparing it in different ways. Every housekeeper considers that coffee is something that everybody can make, and therefore she takes no particular pains to make it, It is a fact that on the breakfast table of nine out of ten families, where nice cooking in other respects is the rule, the coffee will be watery stuff, tasting strong of chic- cory, or else so black and thick as to be undrinkable by whoever is used to the better-made article. In the city the vast majority of house- wives buy ground coffee at corner gro- ceries. I think the same rule is good in the country, for most country stores have their coffee grinder, The grocery- man’s profit is so large on coffee that of course it pays him well to grind it. And he can, in grinding, adulterate it to so great an extent that he would pre- fer to sell his ‘real Java” and ‘real Mocha’ ground, even if he had to sell at a less price than in the bean. The fact that the price is the same, ground or unground, never seems to show peo- ple plainly how well it would pay them to grind their own coffee. They may be sure the groceryman does not do it for love. It is not easy to roast coffee, for it re- quires much close watching, patience, and experience to bring it just to the proper shade, not burnt, nor yet ton light, neither too iittle or too much, but just right. Itcan be bought f.esh- ly and perfectly roasted in the larger grocery houses of good repate. It is best to buy not more than two pounds of this at a time, and it should be kept closely covered until the last grain is used. I bave always found that one- third Mocha and two third Java make a good combination. This costs about thirty-two cents per pound at the larger down town houses. A coffee grinder—a good one--is worth fifty cents. The comfort of the good coffee it gives you is worth far more. It is true Bridget will not grind it unless con.peiled, if she hasn’t any coffee but unground to use; but 1t should be a case of “needs must.” If she is allowed to grind it over night for ase in the morning, it should be put in- to a tightly covered vessel until used. I use a coffee-cup full,ground, for a family of five. This makes a pound last about a week. Put in an egg shell, and fill the pot about a third full of cold water. When it boils hard, add boiling water to the quantity you wish to make. When that boils up once, put in a dash of cold water, and cover the coffee pot with a folded towel, and set on the back part of the stove until you wish to use it. If you pour it into a silver urn, scald the urn first. that the cotfee may not be chilled. Whoever is used to drinking good cof- fee, bought and made in this way, will never be content with ‘‘grocers’ coffee’ again. Always buy a grinder to screw against the wall. It saves time, temper and is at hand when it is wanted. National Greetings. + “How can you ?”’ That's Swedish. “How do you fare ?”” That Dutch. “How do you stand ?”’ That’s Italian. “Go with God, senor,” That's Span- jis lis “How do you live on?” That's Rus- | sian. “How do you perspire?’ That's | Egyptian. “How do you have yourself.” That's ! Polish. | “How do you find yourself?” That's | German. | “Thank God, how are you ?”’ That's i Arabian. : That’s Persian. | French. | “How do you do?” That's English . and American. “Be under the guard of Goa.” That's { the Ottoman’s. “How is your stomach?” Have you ; eatén’ your rice?” ‘That's Chinese.— . Harrisburg Telegram. Le ——————— Reporters May Get In. oe ALBANY, January 27. —Stein’s bill, allowing the presence ‘of reporters at electrocutions, was passed by the as sem- bly. “May thy shadow never grow less.” | “How do you carry yourself?” That's | Baby a Joy and a Trouble. The Good Definition of People Competing for a Two- Guinea Prize. London Ti¢-Bits has just awarded a two-guinea prize for “The Best Defini- tion of a Baby.” The prize was won by Miss Nellie Braidwood of Girvan, Eng- land; who sent ir this answer! “A tiny feather from the wing of love dropped into the sacred lap of woman- hood.” = The following is a selection from some of the best definitions submitted : The bachelor’s horror,?the mother’s treasure, and the despotic tyrant of the most republican household. finger of care. The morning caller, noonday crawler, midnight brawier. The magic spell by which the gods transform a house into home. A miniature atlas that bears the whole world of wedded joys and cares on ils little shoulders. Father’s rival in mother’s love. A stranger with unspeakable cheek, that enters a house without a stitch to his back, and is received with open arms by everyone. The sapling of the tree from which will be built the bullwarks of our na- tion’s future greatness. A bursting bud on the tree of life. The only precious possession that nev- excites envy. A bold asserter of the rights of free speech. The best developer of the most beauti- ful part of a woman’s nature, ‘unsel- fishness. ” A tiny useless mortal, but without which the world would soon be at a standstill, The latest edition of humanity, of which every couple think they possess the finest copy, A native of all countries, who speaks the language of none. An invention for keeping people awake at night. A mite of a thing that requires a mighty lot of attention, A diminutive specimen of perserve humanity that could scarcely be endur- ed if he belonged to someone else; but being our own, is a never-failing treas- ury of delight. A man or woman making a start in life. The unconscious mediator between father and mother, and the focus of their hearts. A daylight charmer and a midnight alarmer. writhe and scream, filled with suction ic alarm to regulate supply. A troublesome compendium of great possibilities. A quaint little craft called innocence, laden with simplicity and love. A wee little specimen of humanity, whose winsome smile makes a good man think of the angels. The sunbeam in the house that drives dull care away. A curious bud of uncertain blossom. A thing everybody thinks there is a great deal too much fuss about unless it is their own. A thing we are expected to kiss, and look as if we enjoyed it. happy. There is only one perfect specimen of a baby in existence, and every mother is the happy possessor of it. The smartest little craft afloat in home’s delightful bay. tail. A little stranger, with a free pass to | the heart’s best affections. male labor. The pulp from which the leaves of life's book are made. A padlock on the chain of love. A soft bundle of love and trouble which we cannot do without. It’s a sweet and tiny treasure. A torment and a tease It’s an autocrat, an anarchist, | Two awful things to please. | It’s a rest and peace disturber. With little laughing ways. It’s a wailing human night alarm, And terror of your days. A necessity—in order to keep up the supply of Record readers of the future, i A rose with all its sweetest lcaves yet i folded. : The sweetest thing God ever madeand | forgot to give wings to. That which increases the toil, decreases the father’s cash, and serves as an alarm clock to the neigh- | bors. | A pleasure to two, a nuisance to every | { other body and a necessity to the world, An inhabitant of Lapland. ! A king who, though his sinews are | only velvet, rules with a rod of iron, | making strong men quail before him [aod women to answer. and attend to | every call. | A key that opens the hearts of all | elasses, rich and poor, in all countries. That which makes home happier,love | stronger, patience greater, hands busier, | nights longer, days shorter, purses light- !'er, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, [ tha future brighter. ! “The prince of Wails. | The delightful tyrant who rules the | joys, and the best pledge of matrimo- | nial felicity, | | by wetting a sponge and sprinkling it | with ‘hemp, grass, canary and other | i seeds. The sponge should be refreshed | with water daily, so as to be kept moist. | | In a few days the seeds will germinate, will’ s06n be covered | and the sponge | with messes of green foliage. | wise men, then Dr. Bull, of Cough Syr- {up fame, must have been one of the greatest of philosophers. i arcu | General Grant will probably | his death than he ever did in his life- | time. The memories he prepared with | his dying tands bave already netted to i hls widow and children $414,855,28, ra n—————— | ———-Fora general family cathartic we ' confidently recommend Hood's Pills, They ¢hould be in every home medicine chest. A human flower untouched by the About 22 inches of coo and wriggle, | testing apparatus for milk, and automat- | The one thing needful to make a home ! A mile of humanity that will ery no | harder if a pin is stuck into him than he will if the cat won’t let him pull her! The most extensive employer of fe- mother’s | home, the niother's darling and father’s | | pride, the cause of a thousand innocent | Another pretty ornament is made | -If it is true that philosophers are | make more money for his family after | The Proposed Pacific Cables. From the New York Times. appropriation given to it by congress at a cable route from California to Hawaii has yielded good results. The Albatross undoubedly found obstacles in her route the generally parallel course which she bad taken a score of miles further south, about fifteen years before. In one place noted by the Albatross which gave 800 fathoms greater depth than the sound- ings of 2,400 on each side of it. At an- fathoms was found, showing that a mountain of that height had been crossed In a third place an elevation twice as high was encountered, so that it rose to within 1,200 fathoms of the surface. Thus we have irregularities of depth ing at from 1,200 fathoms to = 3,200. It is also possible that more frequent soundings would have revealed both deeper and shallower places. Still, the general results seem to show an improvement over those of the Tus- carora. That vessel had crossed a great submarine mountain which rose to with in 800 fathoms of the surface. while on either side of it the depth was about 2,- 700 fathoms, Besides, it is clear that, while as favorable levels as those of the Atlantic cannot be hoped for between San Francisco and Honolulu, there are no continuous ridges of too formidable a character. the elevations indicating in- dividual peaks. There are also no gullys so deep as to endanger the success of a telegraph wire, whereas Asiatic side of the Pacific there exists for a long dis- tance a depression so deep that bottom was not reached in the soundings under- taken by our naval officers. The wire i in that region broke after more than 4,600 fathoms had been run out, indica- ting a depth of upward of five miles. { There is a very favorable starting place : for a cable near Montercy, a little south of San Francisco. It might turn out | that a survey beginning norih of the lat- | ter point would find fewer obstacles, justifying the greater length of wire | thus needed. We have, .in fact, the | whole coast of California and Oregon | from which to choose a point of depar- ture, or could go in the other direction , as far as San Diego. | Whether any private enterprize will find encouragement enough in the in- | vestigations of the Albatross for under- taking to lay a cable to Honolulu does not appear, The Fifty-first congress, with all its lavishness, would not grant a subsidy of $3,000,000 to such a pro- ‘ject when brought before it. The sen- ate voted that sum, but the house by a | very great majority refused to concur or | even to vote $2,250,000, conditioned on | Hawaii’s supplying the remainder. | Perhaps the final solution of the prob- , lem will be to make Hawaii. instead of | the terminus of a cable, only 8 way sta- | tion in a trans-Pacific route. But that, | while promising a far greater income, | would also be a far more expensive un- | dertaking and would not specially be- 'long to our government, which has not | | only no possessions on the Asiatic: coast (or Australia, but acne in Polynesia. | There was a vague idea connected with the project in the last congress that Ha- | Wail might one day be ours, or perhaps, rather, that we ought to take steps to | prevent other nations from seizing it. { Still, having a