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,