aE er DenroeaticWatclnom BY P. GRAY MEEK. ona SWEET BELLS OF CHRISTMASTIDE. Christmas bells, chime out triumphant Over land and over sea ! Send your happy tidings floating Oh sweet waves of melody ; Softly tell your tender story, O’erand o’er and o'er again, “Glory in the highest, glory, Peace on earth, good will to men.” To some doubting, weary spirit, Bring a gentle, holy calm ; May your notes, on hearts sore-wounded, Fall like consecrated balm. To some life’s storm troubled waters Ma, they whisper, Peace, be still ! And our sleeping souls awaken With a glad, exultant thrill. On your wings of music, sweet bells, Bear our ta ughts to Him above. Teach our heart to time their pulses ‘To the rapt’'rous psalm of love. Oh ! ring out all strife and malice, With the story ot His birth, Ring in Faith, and Hope, and Love. And peace on earth! — Claudia Tharin, in Good Housekeeping. “IN THE MIDST OF LIFE. A Christmas Eve Vignette. It was late in the afternoon when John Suydam turned into Twenty- thira Sirect, and he remarked the ab- sence of the gleam of color generally visible tar away to the wesiward be- yond the end of the street and across the river. There was no red vista that Christmas eve, for the sky was overcast and lowering, there was a damp chill in the air, a premonition of approaching snow. It was about the edge of dusk as he skirted Madison Square and saw the electric lights twinkle out suddenly up and down Fifth Avenue, and in the syuare here and there. The young man crossed Broadway, skilfully avoiding a huge express wa- gon, and springing lightly out <f the path of a clanging cablecar. He crossed Fifth Avenue, threading his way through the carriages and the carts piled high with paper-covered packages. The white walls ot the hotel on the opposite side of Twenty- third Street were dingy under the leaden sky as the haze of the swift twilight settled down. The wind died away altogether, and yet the atmos phere was raw and damp. Suydam bought an evening paper from the crippled newsboy who sat in his roll- ing-chair, warmly wrapped against the weather, and seemingly cheerful and contented with his takings. A few steps further the young man passed an old French sailor standing on the curb-stone, and using his single hand to wind the machinery of a glazed box, wherein a ship was to be seen tossing on the regular waves while a train of cars kept crossing a bridge which spanned an estuary. Almost under the sailor's feet there was an old woman huddled in a dirty heap over a tiny hand-organ, from which she was slowly grinding a doubtful and dolor- ous tune. By her side, but a little be- yond, two boys were offering for sale green wreaths, and stars, and ropes of greenery, to be used in festooning. Close to the broad windows of a dry- goods store- whence a yellow light streamed forth, a tall, thin man had a board on a trestle, and on this portable table he was showing off the antics of a toy clown who tumbled artlessly down a steep flight of steps. The peo- ple who hurried past, with parcels ua- der their arms, rarely stopped to look at the ship tossing on the waves, or to listen to the hesitating tune of the wheezy organ, or to buy a bit of green or a performing clown. Yet the open- air bazar, asit might plainly be called, the out-door fair, extended all the way along the street, and on both edges of the sidewalk the fakirs were trying to gather in their scanty Christmas har- ‘vest, Before John Suydam came to the corner of Sixth Avenue the snow be- gan at last to fall; the first flakes de- scended hesitatingly scurried by a brief wind that sprang up for a minute or two, and then died away absolutely. After a while the snow thickened and fell faster, sifting down softly and si- lently, but filling the air under the electric lights which were clustered at the corner, and reddening under the glare of the engines on the elevated railroad overhead, as they rushed along girt with swirling clouds of steam. The snow clustered upon the boughs of the unsold Christmas trees which stood irregularly along the side- walk before a florist’s a few doors down Sixth Avenue, and by the time Suydam bad turned the corner, they looked like the shrouded ghosts of balsam pines. All along the avenue he had to make his way through the same crowds of belated Christmas shoppers, hurry- ing in and out of the overgrown storest availing themselves of their las, chance to buy gifts for the morrow ; but as he advanced, the throng thin- ned a little, driven home perhaps by the snow-storm. Yet though the pur- chasers were fewer, the peddlers per- sisted. Suydam noted one old man, bent and shrivelled, and with a long gray beard, who had a tray before him hung on a strap over his shoulders, and on the narrow board were plaster figures of Santa Claus carrying aloft a branching Christmas tree besprinkied with glittering crystalline flakes. Un- der the hood of the etaircase of the station of the elevated railroad he saw a little blind woman wrapped in a scant shawl, silently proffering halt a dozen lead-pencils, And high over the centre of the roadway the snow- clad trains thundered up ani down, with white plumes of steam trailing from the engines, As Suydam neared Fourteenth Street he found the crowds compacting again; and at the corner there was a chaos of carriages, carls, and street cars. The flights of stairs leading to the elevated road station were packed with pec- ple bearing bunlles and boxes most of them, ascending ani descending w'th difficulty, jostling ons another good vaturedly. Loong lines of children of all ages spread along the wide | Deine p | y TRO STATE RIGHTS AND FEDERAL UNION. 9 “VOL. 39, BELLEFONTE, PA., DEC. 21, 1894. NO. 50. plate-glass windows at the corner of one huge store, gazing wonderingly at a caravan of toy animals in gor- geous trappings with chariots and palanquins, which kept circling around in front of painted palm trees and gay- ly decorated tents. The snow was fall- ing fast, but still the young ones look ed admiringly and waited willingly, though their hats were whitened, and though the soft flakes melted on their capes and on their coats. The mass of humanity clustering about these windows forced Suydam almost to the edge of the sidewalk, but this was the last crowd he had to make his way through. Lower down there were no solid groups, although the avenue was still thronged. He wae able to quicken his pace. So he sped along, passing the butchers, where carcasses of sheep and of beeves hung in line garlanded with ropes of ever- green ; passing the grocers’, where the shelves were battlemented with cans of food; passing the bakers’, where bread and cakes, pies and crallers, were displayed in trays and in baskets. He glanced into the yellow windows of candy stores, and saw the parti-col- ored sweetmeats temptingly spread out. He caught a glimpse of more than one dealer in delicatessen whose display of silver-clad sausage and hezy pasty and wicker-work flask was enough to stimulate the appetite cof a jaded epicure. He saw the sigus of a time of plenty, but no one knew better than John Suydam that just then there was truly a season of want. Night had fallen before he reached the court-house, with its high roof and and its lofty turret, before he came to the market, with its yawning baskets of vegetables and its long rows of pen- dent turkeys beneath the flaring jets of gas. He crossed the avenue and turn- ed into a small street—not here at right angles to the thoroughfare, as are the most of the side sireets of New York. At last he stopped before a lit- tle house, an old two-story building, worn with long use, and yet dignified in its decay. The tiny dwelling had a Datch roof, with two dormer-windows ; and it had been built when the Dutch traditions of New Amsterdam were stronger than they are to-day. The young man mounted the high stoop, on which the snow was now nearly half an inch thick. He rang the bell twice with a measured interval between. The flying step of a girl was heard, and then the door was throwa open, and Suydam disappeared within the little house. As the door closed, the young man | took the young woman in his arms and kissed her. “Qh, Johu,” she said, “it is so good of you to come on Christmas eve. How did you manage to get away ?" “I've only two hours, he answered,” and I had to get something to eat, so I thought that perhaps you— “Of course we can,” the girl inter- rupted. “And mother will be delight- ed. She has made one of her old fashioned chicken pies, asd it's ever so much too much for us two. It will be ready at six.” “Then I know where I'm going to get my dinner,” her lover returned. as he followed her into the little parlor. “But I shall have to go back as soon as I've have it. I've told them that I think the office ought tobe kept open till midnight, and I said I'd stay. It would be a sorrowful thing, wouldn't it, if any one who wants help couldn’t getit on Christmas eve 2?” “And there must be many who want help this hard winter,” said the girl. “I went as far as Broadway this after- noon, cn an errand for mother, and I passed six beggars—"' “Oh, beggars—"" he began. “Yes, I know,” she interrupted again, “I did not give them anything though it seemed so cruel notto. I knew what you thought about indis- criminate charity, and so I steeled my heart. And I suffered for it, too, I know I should have felt happier if I had given something to one or two of them, “I suppose you did deprive yourself of the virtuous glow ot self-satisfac- tion,” Suydam admitted. “But that virtuous glow is too cheap to be val uable. It we want to help our neigh- bor really we must practice self-sacri fice, and not purchase an inexpensive self-gratification at the cost of his seli- respect.” “I should feel as though I wasn't spending Christmas 1t I didn’t give away something,” she protested. *‘Exactly,”” he returned. ‘You haven't yet freed yourself from the pestilent influence of Dickens, though you have much more sense, too, than nine women outof ten. You have blindly followed the belief that you ought to give for your own sake, with- out thinking whether it was best for the beggars to receive. Dicken’s Christmas stories are now breeding their third generation of paupers; and I doubt it we can convince the broad public of the absurdity of his sociology in an- other half-century. [It takes science to solve problems ; hysteric emotionalism won't do it.” “You don’t think ail the beggars I saw to-day were humbags, do you?” she asked. “There ien’t one chancein ten that any onz of the half-dozen is really in need,” he answered; “and probably five out of s'x have taken to begging parily out of laziness, and partly be- cause they can beg larger wages than they can earn honestly.” “But there was one old man; he must have been forty, at least,” urged the girl, “who was positively starving. Why, just as I turned out of Broad- way I saw him spring down to the gut- ter and pick up a crust ot bread and began to eat it greedily. I felt in my pocket for my purse, of course, but a gentleman had seen it too, and he went up to the man and talked to him and gave him a fivedollar bill. Now, there was a real case of distress, wasn't it ?’ Suydam emiled sadly. “The starv- ing man was about forty, you say? Tall and thin, wasn’t he, with a thin pointed beard and a mark on his right cheek ?” The girl looked at him in wouder. “Why, how did you know ?” she cried. “That's Scar-faced Charley,” he answered. “And is he a humbug too?’ she asked. “I followed him for two hours cone afternoon last week,” he explained, “and [ saw him pick up that bit of bread and pretend to eat it at least twenty times. When I had him ar- rested he had more than ten dollars in his pockets.” “Well,” the young women declared, “I shall never believe in anybody again.” “But I don’t see how it is Scar-faced Charley is out tc-day,” Suydam went on. “We had him sent up for a month only, for the judge was easy with him. If he’s out again so soon I suppose he must have a pull of some sort. Those fellows often have more influence than you would think.” “Ie took me in completely,” the girl admitted. “If Scar-faced Charley, as you call him, can act so well, why doesn’t he go on the stage and earn an honest livieg 2” “That's the first thing that aston- ished me when I went to live in the University Settlement, and began to study out these things for myself. I found beggars who were fond of their profession, and who prided themselves on their skill. What are you to do with them ? And if yon let them ply their trade, how are you going to dis- tingnish them from those who are really in need ?" “It is all very puzzling to me,” the girl confessed. *‘Since I’ve heard you talk, charity doesn’t seem half as sim- ple as it used to.” “No,” said Suydam, “it isn’t simple. Iu fact, it is about as complicated and complex a problem as the twentieth century will have to solve. But I'm coming to one conclusion fast, and that 1 "is that the way to tell those who need help trom those who don’t need itis | that the latter jask forit and the for- | —none whatever, mer won't. New York is rich and gen- eroug, and there's never any difficulty about getting money enough to relieve every case of distress in the city limits The real difficulty is in getting the money to the people who really need it, and in keeping it from the people who ought not to have it. You see that those who ask for assistance don’t deserve it—not once in fitty times ; and those who deserve it won't ask for it. There are men and women—women especially—who will starve before they will face the pity of their fellows. Every day I hear of cases of suffering boroe silently, and discovered only by accident.” “I’ve been wondering for a week if ‘we haven't one ot those cases in this house now.” said the girl. “In this house ?'’ the young man re- peated. “I’ve been meaning to tell you about it all every day,” she went on, “but I've seen so little of you, and when you do come we have so many things to talk about you know.” “I know,” Suydam repeated. He was seated by her side on the sofa, and his arm was around her waist. He drew her closer to him and kissed her. “Now, tell me about your case of dis tress,” he said. “Well,” the girl began, “this house is too big for mother and me alone, so we let one room on the top floor to two old ladies. They have been here since before Thanksgiving. They are for- eigners—Cubans, I think. The moth- er must be seventy, and I can see she bas been very handsome: The daugh- ter is nearly fifty, I’m sure; and a more devoted daughter you never saw. She waits on her mother band and foot. They didn’t bring any baggage to speak of—no trunk, only just a lit tle bag—and we saw at once that they were very, very poor. They paid two weeks’ rent in advance, and since then they've paid two weeks more. A fori- night ago the daughter told mother that they would be obliged if she would let them defer paying the rent tor a little while, as a letter they were expecting had not come. And I sup pose that was so, for the postman nev- er whistled but the daughter came fly- ing down stairs to see if there wasa't something for them. Bat it haso’ come yet, and I don’t believe they've z0t enough money to get things to eat, hardly. The daughter used to go out every morning, and come back with a nny parcel. You see, there's a gas stove 'n their room, and they do their »wn cooking, Buatshe hasn't been out of the honsz for two days, and we naven’t seen either of them since the day before yesterday, when the daugh- ter came to the head of the stairs and asked if there was a letter for her mother. We can hear them moving about overhead gently, but we haven't seen them. And now we don’t really know what to do. I'm so glad you've come, for [ told mother I was going to ask you about them.” “Do you think they have no money?’ Suydam asked. “I'm afraid it's all gone,” she answered. ‘““And they have no friends at all, so far as we know.” “You say they are Cubans ?”’ “I think they are. Their name is de los Rios—Senora de los Rios, I heard the daughter call her mother when she asked the postman about a letter.” “If it wasn’t so late.” said the young man, looking at his watch, “I would go to the Spanish consulate. But it’s nearly six now, and the consu- late is certain to be closed. If there is any reason to think that they are act- ually suffering for want of food, can’t you find some feminine reason for in- truding on them ?"’ “I'm afraid we can’t,” she answered. “We did try yesterday morning. When we found that the daughter didn’t go out for something to cook, we were afraid they might be hungry, and so we talked it over and over, and did our best to hit on some way of Belping them. At last mother had an idea, and she made a sort of Spanish stew—what they call an olla podrida, you know, She got the receipt out of the cook-book, and she took it up and knocked atfthe door. They asked who it was, and they didn’t open the door but a little. Mother told the daughter that she bad been trying to make a Spanish dish, and she didn’t know as she'd got it right, and so she'd come up to ask them as a favor if they wouldn’t taste it and tell her if it was all right. You see, that was mothers’ idea. She thought she might get them to eat it that way, and save their pride. But it wouldn't do. The daughter said that she was sorry, but she couldn't taste it then, she couldn't, nor ber mother either. They had no appetite then, and so they couldn't judge of the olla podrida. She said they had just been cooking some chops and steaks.” “Chops and steaks ?”’ echoed Suy- dam. “That's what she said,” the girl con- tinued. “But of course that was her excuse for refusing. That was her way of impressing on mother that they didn’t need anything. So mother had to give it up, and bring the stew down stairs again. Mother doesn’t feel so badly about them, however, because they bad been cooking something yes- terday. She smelt fish—jyesterday was Friday, you know.” “I know,” repeated the young man; “but still, I—" Just then the shrill whisde of the postman was heard, and a sharp ring at the bell. The girl jumped up, and went to the door. As she opened it there came in the faint melody of distant sleigh-bells, and the roar of the street already muffled by the snow. She returned to the parlor with a loog blue envelope in her hand. “Here is the letter at last,” she said. “What letter ?'’ asked Suydam. “The letter the old ladies are wait- ing for,” she answered, handing it to bim. He held it up nearer the single gas jet of the parlor and read the address aloud, **Marquesa de los Rios,’ and it's registered.” “Yes,” the girl returned, “and the postman is waiting to have the receipt signed. He said he guessed it was money or a Christmas present of some sort, since it had so many seals on it. I wanted you to know about it; but I'll take it right up now.” She tripped lightly up stairs, and John Suydam heard her knocking at the door of the room the two old ladies occupied. After an interval she rap- ped again, apparently without re- sponse. Then he heard her try the door gently. Two seconds later her voice rang out in & cry of alarm: “Mother ! mother! Oh, John!" Suydam sprang up stairs, and found her just outside of the door of the old ladies’ room. She was trembling and che gripped his hand. “Ob, John," she said, “something ter- rible has happened | It was even worse than TI thought | They were really starving 1” Then she led him silently into the room where her mother joined them almost, immediately, After waiting five minutes the post: man at the front door below bécame impatient, He rang the bell sharply and whistled again. He was kicking the snow off his boots and swinging his arms to keep warm, when at last the door opened and John Suydam appear- ed, with the long blue envelope in his hand. “I'm afraid that you will have take this letter away again.” Suydam said to the postman. There isno one here now to sign for it. los Rios is dead I'—BraNDER Mart: THEWS in Harper's Weekly. ——If you want printing of any des- cription the Warcaman officelis the place to have it done. The Marquesa de | THE NAZARENE. He came to save the world from sin, But not in palace nor in inn, Did Christ His earthly life begin. Of all His higher honors shorn, Midst beasts of burden munching corn, The Saviour of mankind was born. The glimmer of a lantern’s ray Lit up the manger where He lay Upon a lowly bed of hay. But out upon Judea's plain The angel's song a glad refrain, In honor of Messiah's reign. A gleaming star shone bright and clear, As the angelic hosts drew near, With gladsome news of peace and cheer. The shepherds all, with wistful eyes And hearts aglow with glad surprise, Receive the message from the skies. “We'll go and seek our Priest and King, Of whom we hear the angels sing ; Our offerings unto Him we'll bring.” To hasten they could well afford ; Before them lay the promised Lord ; Beholding Him was their reward. We need vot travel far to find A thankful heart, a peaceful mind, For God is love, and love is kind. Shall we His work on earth delay, Or ask Him in, this Christmas Day, With us to dine and with us stay ? Ida Clarkson Lewis. Unto You is Born This Day a Savior. BY REV. H. A. GRANT. Sin had entered the world and spread its withering blight o'er all the earth. The roses of Eden had faded, its streams had been embitter- ed, and its air had been loaded with the pestilential vapors of death. Man was doomed to go forth and toil in sorrow and sadoese until he should return to the dust from whence he was taken. A deep and moral gloom enshrowd- ed the world ; but the far distant hori- zon was crimsoned with light, for God had promised the coming of a bright and glorious day. Mean continued to spread out upon the mountains, and on the plains, and in the valleys by the stream-sides ; but wherever taey went their hearts were still oppressed with the curse, and they longed for de- liverance. Promise was succeeded by pro pk- ecy, and as the coming day ap- proached, prophecies were muliplied and spread abroad in every land, and preserved as sacred legends, inspiring desire and expectation in every breast, At length, upon the stillness of the midnight air, the voices of angelic choristers announced to the watching shepherds—sentinels of the world— the glorious tidings, “Unto you is born this day, In the city of David, A Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” A Savior born! Promise and proph- ecy are now fullfilled, desire and expectation are now realized! The great event in the hopes of the world for ages and generations has now transpired. Who woul®not join with the angels and sing. “Glory to God in the highest, Peace on earth and good will toward men !” “Light on thy hills, Jerusalem ! The Savior now is born, And bright on Bethlehem’s joyous plains, Breaks the first Christmas morn.” The Irksome Part Of It. Willie had been thinking deeply all Christmas day, a condition of affairs so unusual with him that his mother questioned him as to the state of his health. “Oh, I'm all right,” he said, o little sadly ; “but I was thinking there was one thing about Christmas that I didn’t like.” “What is that ?” “You've got to be satisfied with what you get.” Not Foreigners. “You were born in America 2” Dennis—Yes, sir. “Parents foreigners ?" Dennis—No, indade | They're Irish, WHICH IS BEST ? “Of all the days of all the year,” Cried loyal Freddy Bly, “The very splendidest of all Comes early in July. Think of the fun! the glorious noise ! That is the day—at least for boys I" “Of all the days of all the year,’ Said little Robin Gray, “The very best, I do believe, Will be Thanksgiving Day. A fellow has such things to eat Thanksgiving Day cannot be beat !"’ “Of all the days of all the year,” Sang pretty Nan, “remember The dearest, ha pest, and best Is coming in December. What girl or boy, North, South East, West, But knows that Christmas Day is Eest?, Spawis from the Keystone, — Schuylkill county has 107] applicants for license next year, an increase of 80. —Williamsport people are agitating in bebalf of a local National Guard armory. —Northumberland county teachers are holding their 42d annual institute at Sun. bury, | ~ Woodpeckers have burrowed 1nto and | ruined many new cedar telegraph poles | near Reading. | —dJoseph Hoover a Lancaster contrac. i tor, has been missing for a week. Foul . play is feared. | —Waynesboro burglars blew open the i safe in B. F. Welty’s distillery only to get {away with $25. | —United Mine Workers’ District No. 2 | annual meeting will be held at Philips. ! burg on January 8. | —There are 48 counties represented in | the State Farmers’ Alliance, now in ses. | sion as Harrisburg. { —Three of Ira Toot’s children of West Clearfield, have died within the last few | days of diphtheria, ~The question of a $900,000 loan for { Reading will be submitted to the voters at the spring election. —The 28th annual session of the Blair county Teachers’ Institute was begun in Hollidaysbanrg Monday. —All of Tuesday wasspent by the Court at Reading getting a jury to try Reuben Walters, the wife murderer. —dJohn O’Donnell has been appointed fourth class postmaster at Hecksherville, vice M. M. Brennan, removed. —At the point of revolvers two high. waymen robbed Farmer Charles Lytle, near Duboistown, of $36 and fled. —Lycoming county has issued bonds for $139,000, mainly to replace bridges swept away by the spring flood. —James Bell, of Brownsville, has pur. chased a one-third interest in the Cam. bridge colliery, near Shenandoah. —Council for Sponsler and Junkin, the convicted Perry county Bank wreckers, have filed reasons for a new trial. —The Bellefonte Bar Association will hold a meeting in memory of the late ex-Governor Curtin on December 22. —The clothing of 5.year-old Blanche Dawson, of Gilberton, ignited from a brush fire and she was fatally burned. —Adam Eppinger was Tuesday nomi. nated by the President as postmaster at Harmony, vice D. P. Boggs, removed, —L. E. Methore was appointed fourth. class postmaster at New Chester, vice Mrs. H, M, Winard, removed on Saturday. —Pottsville citizens will be given a chance to vote to establish a borough electric light plant at the February elec- tion. —Frank McMahon, formerly of Phila. delphia, and J. J. Schutzer, of Pittsburg were drowned at Duquesne Saturday night. —A crank in Washington D. C., has written Governor Pattison that Harris. burg will be utterly destroyed within two years, —It is estimated that 1000 Poles and Hungarians have left Shenandoah the last yeerand their places are being filled by Italians. . —The second and third stories of the West Branch bank building, Williams. port, was badly damaged by fire Satur. day morning. —The first trip on the new Lock Haven electric railway was made on Friday, and the people of that town are in a joyful state of mind. —James Reese, a Pillman porter, living at Sewickley, tried to drown himself in the Ohio river on Sunday because he had broken a promise. —A casting weighing 104 tons, to be used as a scale car for the Reading Rail- road, was shipped from the Pottsvile rc. pair shops Tuesday. —Mrs. Washington Shalters, of Read- ing, the mother of six children, has mys» teriously disappeared and is supposed to have drowned herself. —Rev. T. W. Rosensteel, the late pastor of 8t. Thomas’ Catholie church, at Ash- ville, has been transferred to St. Mate thews chureh, at Tyrone. —Mrs. E. J. Neff, aged 63 years, died at her home in Warriorsmark, on Saturday, after a brief illness from pneumonia. She is survived by six children. —The spread of searlet fever in Carlisle has created sueh alarm that the Town Council held a special meeting last night to perfect rules for the Board of Health. —Footpads attacked Traction Conduc- tor Brum in Reading and struck his.head with a stone ; then they accosted photog. rapher Keckman, who ran and escaped. —Four Harvey plates, the last of the ar- mor for the battle ship Maine, were shipped to the Brooklyn Navy Yard by the Bethlehem Iron Company on Satur- day. —The mill of the Medix run lumber company, near Calcedonia, Clinton eounty, is now running steadily, and wilt cut 4,000,000 feet of timber between now and spring. —Henry Smith and wife, of Newport, Perry eounty have set a good example to the rising generation by living together as man and wife long encugh to eelebrate their golden wedding. —While Mr. and Mrs. 8, S. Messinger celebrated their golden wedding at Tata- my, near Easton, their granddaughter, Miss Clara S. Messinger, and lH. F. Daoch, of Flicksville, were wedded. —Hundreds of windows in houses at Springfield Station, on the French Creek branch of the Wilmington & Northern Railroad, have been broken by the heavy cannonading at the Government proving ground. —Constable Hawk, of Parkersburg, stepped out of a room in Lancaster for a few minutes, and John Bryson, charged with horse stealing, whom he was taking to the Hunting.don reformatory, escaped. —For failing to report the earnings of his firm according to law, Attorney Gene. eral Hensel entered judgment for $1081.20 aguinst Anthony Morrow, member of a private banking flrm of Blair, county, on Saturday. ~The Methodist church at Bedford was. damaged to such an extent by a burst rae diator as to canse a suspension of sere vices for the coming week, The build ing cannot be restored toits former beans. tiful condition under a cost of $3.0,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers