Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, July 10, 1896, Image 2

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Democratic ata
Bellefonte, Pa., July (0, 1896.
There ain't no use o’ gramblin® over every grief
and sorrer ; ;
The pangs ‘at stings ver heart to-day may fly
away to-morrer
An’ ail the flowers o' lite may bloom about yer |
path beguilin®,
$0 you better hresh yer tears away, an’ jes’ keep
: on a smilin’,
This earth is still a paradise—no matter what you
call it—
m Lefall it.
Ss nothin’ good in all the world ageoin’ to
waste or spilin’,
So ver better hresh yer tears away, an’
nm a smiling,
Jes’ look intayer heart to-day, an’ see what there
is hidden—
there all nnbidden,
The blessed dreams an’ memories “at love therein
is pilin'—
Then bresh away yer foolish tears an’ jes’ Keep
on a smilin®
I have no fant to find with “en whose sins are all
I “1,
wait with Christian zeal the kingly eall
‘en 3
But this I think, till God calls up to regions more |
legnilin® :
We outer squash the risin® tears and jes’ keep on
—Hereerr Ho Brows, in Vcc Zaud World,
This was how it happened. It was about
6 o'clock in the eveuing and\J was enjoy-
ing an after-dinner siesta on the hack
piazza of my semi-rural residence in
Brooklyn: That is just why I prefer to re-
side in Brooklyn. One canbe semi-rural
within an hour of New York's heart.
I had had an excellent dinner and was
in that satisfactory self-congratulatory
mood that such an occurrence isapt to im- |
part. Life seemed very pleasant to me as
[ lay in my Mexican hammock, which
stretched across from one vine-covered post
to another, and the odor of honeysuckles
vas heavy on the air. A piano, two
houses down the street, was rippling an |
accompaniment to a girl's voice singing |
softly and sounding singularly sweet
through the evening stillness.
My wife sat in a low wicker rocker,
which swayed to and fro, and at her feet
our 2-year-old baby rolled ahout aimlessly |
on a white rug, making a soft cooing to his
nother as she bent her face to smile upon |
him. My pretty wife.! I can picture her
now as she looked that evening with her
beautiful brown hair gathered in a Knot at
the back of her head, her smiling face bent
down toward our child and her low-collar- |
ed summer gown of blue caught at her
white throat with a glittering crescent.
With eyes half closed I contemplated the
pretty picture through the smoke wreaths of
my cigar and thought what a fortunate
man I was to possess the prettiest wife and |
the most wonderful baby in the world.
Egotistical you say ?
would have felt that way yourself.
Then a fly iit on the end of my nose, I
hate the insects ever since, for that misera-
ble fly was the first insignificant cause |
which led to the train of startling events
which followed.
I brushed him off with both hands, but |
he returned again. I struck at him with
my chin, I snapped savagely at him with
my teeth, hut back he came after each at-
tack with an impertinent and . persistent
buzz which was distracting.
of the hammock and picked up the morn-
ing paper, which lay ona chair near me,
intending to use the sheet for a protection
for my face. :
“As I unfolded it my eye caught the
“personal” column, and in an idle way I
ran my eye along the paragraphs, suddenly |
stopping to read the following advertise-
“Will the blonde young man, with the
square mole under his left ear, who crossed
the Brooklyn bridge about 4 o'clock yester- |
day, be at the Brooklyn entrance this ev-
ening at ® o'clock ¥
I'read this idiotic thing over and over
again. Why ? I was a blonde young man, |
with a square mole under my left car, and |
I had crossed the bridge yesterday ahout 4
Now, Iam not a man with a fondness !
for adventure, and I cannot remember one |
occasion since my marriage when I desired
to originate or follow up a flirtation. In
fact. I am rather old-fashioned in my ideas, |
and am inclined to despise the male flirts, |
mashers and nudgers that I have met. An-
other thing I am very much in love with |
my wife.
I had often heard the men downtown en- |
thuse over the charms of Casino chorus |
girls, Spanish dancers and burlesquers, hut |
I recollect experiencing a thrill of distinct |
contempt as I heard them and thought of
the pretty, dainty little woman who pre- |
sided over my home.
But this advertisement was very pecu-
other young man with a square mole under
his ‘left ear who crossed the bridge yester-
day about the same time I did ?
From my childhood up that clear brown
mark had been regarded asa distinguish-
ing mark, and which would identify me
under any and all circumstances. I had
never once thought of having it removed,
for it was not a disfigurement, and my
wife often laughingly said that it was that
mark which had first caught her fancy,
and she used to cite cases of people who
had fallen in love with a irregular tooth or
a snub nose.
I was seized with a burning curiosity to |
e angels gnard each human heart lest any |
jos? Keep |
» gentle thoughts, the tender songs, “at came |
Not a bit of it ; you !
I reached out |
Was it possible that there was an- |
| solently familiar tone which servants that
i have been in the family since one was born
{always adopt. I glared at her without
answering, lit a cigarette and passed out
into the street.
What, thought I, if I have been the ob-
ject of some young typewriter's misguided
affections ? I'll send her home and give
| her a lecture, and if some of the boys are
| playing a joke on me—well, they will nev- |
er see me there. That's all.
I jumped on a passing car which led to
| the ridge and sat down on the front seat
| in the shadow of the driver. A man that I
| knew got ona few blocks down, but did
‘moments I breathed again. I did not care
to meet anyone and involve myself in a
mesh tangled explanations which must
necessarily be lies.
On through the half-deserted summer
streets the car rattled, and at the bridge I
. slunk off and pulled my hat down over my
eyes. I was already sorry that I had
started on this impossible journey,” and I
smiled to think how Bessie would laugh at
me when I told her of this strange freak of
| mine.
massive arches. I
journey. He was there !
I had the sensation of seeing a man who
who so closely resembled me that he might
| be my own twin brother or my own reflec-
tion in a mirror. I started and felt a chill
pass along my spinal column. There was
something uncanny in it. The young fel-
low was light complexioned and slim built,
and wore a sacque coat suit of dark flannel,
a Derby hat and spotless linen. His face
was quite pale, and I knew that if I were
nearer I should see the square mole be-
neath his left ear. It was the man.
He stood near the ticket office and kept
a sharp lookout on either side. He did not
seem to know in which direction the person
he expected would come. Perhaps he
waited for me ? My heart was beating
loudly and I felt annoyed to find myself |
- wrought to such a fever heat just because I |
had found a man who looked remarkably
like me.
and instinctively I did the same.
now after 8 o'clock.
right to the spot where he stood, and stop-
| ped with a jerk at the curb.
. ed the door without waiting for the driv-'
er's assistance, and the man drove off. She |
walked up to my counterpart, who had |
started to meet her, and he took both her
hands in his and kissed her. I smiled in-
voluntarily at this open display of affec-
tion, and just then the young woman
turned her face smilingly toward him in |
the full glare of the light, and my heart |
seemed to stop heating and my blood ran |
like ice in my veins.
It was the same smiling face I had seen
| turned to my child an hour before.
my wife.
I started forward with-clenched hands and
‘was nearly knocked down with a truck
which lumbered along the street, the driv-
er hurling some rough epithet after me as
I forced my way under the horses’ heads
and disappeared in the gloom of the prome- |
nade entrance. They walked along slowly
before me, he with his head bent down and |
his right arm thrust through hers.
his good _carringe one would have taken
tion of others tobe a housemaid and her
beau taking an evening out.
a tenderness in his attitude as they walked
and a yielding inclination to her head that
told thestory plainly. They were evident-
' ly planning something very earnestly, for
every few moments he made a quick move-
ment df his hand as though to enforce
something that he said. Then I felt the
mean instinets of an cavesdropper. Oh, if
I could hut steal closer and hear what they
said. But I broke from this temptation.’
I shrank back out of the glare of the elec-
| tric light as they paused in their walk and
looked down upon the river. I lifted my
hand to my forehead and discovered that I
was cold as ice and that my face was cover-
ed with moisture.
An excursion barge gleaming with lights
passed under the bridge. The band was
playing a waltz and white dresses swung |
As in many serious
Caround dimly below.
(crises of our lives the silly words of the
song they played repeated themselves to
| me:
Sweet dreamland faces
Stuy, oh do not go,
Suddenly I felt tears in my eyes. My
little one at home ! I had forgotten home
{for the time. The memory of my home,
| my wife, and our happy life together, flash-
ed across me and I felt as if I must go to
her and tear her from this man who dared
to look so like me. Perhaps she thought
it was I? But it was impossible. I hur-
‘ried my steps to where they stood and
crouched as I walked like the villain in a
melodrama. :
| As Ineared them I heard him call her
| “Bess,” and he told her to wait for a mo-
ment and he would get a cab. We were
now almost at the New York entrance.
Just as he turned away I grasped her arm
in an iron grip. She turned to me, shriek-
ed in terror, but uttered not
“Where are you going with that man?’
i I hissed in her ear. *‘I am going with the
man I love,” she said ; “‘I do not love
The words seemed to till me with a mad-
ness, and I acted as in a dream.
| her arm through mine in a death grip and
| walked through the New York gate, drag-
ging her with me. She clung like one who
was fainting, but feared to fall. We turn-
(ed down one of the dark, narrow streets
{ leading out of Park row. I seemed chok-
| ing, and with my left hand wrenched my
{collar open. On we walked through ili-
| smelling streets and side alleys that I had
| never trod before, but which I have trav-
| ersed often since that night.
| She shook violently as with ague when
not see me, and when he alighted in a few |
I walked close to the bridge en- |
trance, keeping well in the shadow of the |
was repaid for my |
The fellow looked at his watch |
It was!
Just thenw®®h dashed down the street |
A lady open- |
It was |
Except for the richness of her dress and
them from their disregard for the observa- |
There was |
a word. |
I drew |
see this man, if there were one who had | We came in toa tar-odored street, where a
dared to appropriate my birthmark, and | lack piled dock and ships’ masts rose out
who had crossed the bridge yesterday atthe | of the gloom. As our feet touched the
same time as myself, I gradually came to | rough planking of the dock she fell heavi-
the conclusion that it was my duty to dis- ly against me. I dragged along to where
cover him, and if necessary to expose him, the dark, oily water splashed against the
I turned out of the hammock and looked | Wood, The bridge arch of electric light
at my watch. It was a few minutes after | Shone above us. Ferry lights gleamed in
yw 1a moving procession across the river, and
“Going out, Fred ?”’ asked my wife. | the windows of peaceful Brooklyn homes
“I'll run down’ to the club) fora few | Shone across the water.
minutes, dearie,”” I answered, lying pleas-| I raised her limp body in my arms, for
antly. This happened to be the night | she had fainted, and went to the edge of
when I used to drop in there, but I had no | the dock.
intention of doing so to-night. I was with % heavy splash, which sent a spray
bound for the bridge entrance. | across my face and neck. . I waited. I was
“Well, “kiss Pinkie,” ‘she said, and I | afraid someone had heard.
picked up my son and kissed him upon the
top of his head. TI was always afraid of in-
juring him when I caressed him, and once |
after imprinting a kiss upon his cherry lips |
I had found particles of cracker dust ad-
hering to my mustache. After that I al-
darkness. I could see nothing, but far out
it seemed I heard her calling for help.
Great God! My wife was drowning! I
must save her ! My murderous resolves had
gone. “Help J shrieked, “help”
ways chose the top of his head as being | Then I heard the sound of people running
safer and just as satisfactory. { down the dock. Farther out and weaker I
I passed out through the hallway, and as | heard her cry. I tore off my coat, and
I'did I imagined that Maggie, the girl, [then I felt a hand upon my shonlder. I
who was lighting a lamp there, looked at | looked up. It was an officer. “Let go!”
me suspiciously. ‘‘Are you going out, | I shrieked. ‘You coward ! My wife is
Misther Freddie 2’ she said. with that in- | drowning ! Don’t you hear me? My. God!"
Then she fell into the water |
*Then I listened and looked through the |
Once more that cry, fainter this time.
I opened my eyes. I was sitting on the
floor of the piazza with the hammock,
which I had wrenched from its fastenings,
wound and rewound. about me. My wife
stood half laughing with her hands upon
my head. It was a dark night, but the
{ lamps from the parlor cast a glow across
| her face. ?
‘“Where’s Pinkie?’ were the first words
I said, and I held my wife’s hands tightly
in mine.’
‘Upstairs asleep an hour ago ; but what
in the world is the matter with you? Are
you hurt ”’
“I've only been having a little dream,
Bess,” I said ; “‘kiss me.”’—Kuate Master-
son, in New York Mercury.
“A Penny for Your Thoughts.”
| Here's a New Idea for an Evening Party at Home.
Have you ever studied a coin to see how
many symbols it represents ? By following
out the directions given below, says the
| Ladies’ Home Journal, you will find you
| will be the means of giving a very pleasant
and agreeable time to one or any number
of friends, az “A Penny for Your
Thoughts’ is a game that hoth young and
old can participate in.
Procure enough tally cards for each
Penny for Your Thoughts.” Attach a rib-
| bon to each card with a small pencil at the
| pennies to string one on each tally, in
order that everybody may have one to
| study out by themselves.
The questions given below are to be
guest, on the top of which write, ‘A tonishment, the rapping had been repeated.
end, and have holes put through enough |
| written on the cards, leaving enough space |
{ for the answers. Of course, an allotted
| time is given in which the answers may
be written, and when time is called the one
| having the greatest number correct is the
recipient of the prize.
Qustion and answers will be given he-
‘low, but the one giving the party, of eourse,
withholds the answers :
1. A messenger? One cent (sent).
Mode of ancient punishment ? Stripes.
3. Means of inflicting it ? Lashes.
4. A piece of armor ? Shield.
5. A devoted young man? Bow (beau).
G6. A South American fruit? Date.
' 7. A place of worship ? Temple.
! 8. Portion of a hill ? Brow.._
9. Spring flowers ? Tulips.
| 10. Three weapons ? Arrows.
| 11. The first American settler ? Indian.
12. Emblem of victory ? Laurel wreath.
13. An animal ? Hair (hare).
14. Two sides of a vote? Eyes and nose
(ayes and noes).
15. An emblem of royalty ¥ Crown.
16. One way of expressing
United States.
17. Youth and old age? Youth 12—95
LOld Age.
IR. Part of a river? Mouth.
19. Something found in a school ? Pu-
| pil.
Part of a stove ? Lid (eyelid).
Plenty of assurance ? Cheek.
The cry of victory ? Won (one).
Implements of writing ? Quills.
v‘'olored Photographs.
Somebody, and in the near future, too, is
ing the secret*of photographing in colors.
| There is an old game in which one child
| hunts for some article which a dozen children
| have hidden, and when the hanter is close
| to the hiding place the dozen cheer him on
i by erying “Hot !”” In this matter of color-
| ed photography a large number of investi-
gators are so close to the secret that the |
word “Hot!” is ringing in the air. There
atrimony ? | .
ny ’ s | up the slope had some warning of the cave-
| in and were able to make some progress up
“and through the valley; and this afternoon
led this afternoon by
{ space, 110 feet from the face of the fall.
Here they found the rail exposed, and,
' they kept up for half an hour and returned
[to death only to endure starvation, and
Hope Revives Again.
Now Positively Known That. Some of the Entombed |
Miners at Pittston are Alive.—They Signal by Rap- |
ping, Which They Regularly Repeat When Rescuers |
Reply to Them.—It Will Take Fully Six Days, And |
Perhaps 10, to Reach Them Through the Solid Falls |
of Rock.—Terrible Test of Endurance Ahead.
PrrrsToN, July 5.—All was gloom and |
despair at the Twin shaft yesterday, but |
to-day, just a week since the accident oc- |
curred there, hope reigns, for there are in- |
dications that at least a few of the entomh- |
ed 60 miners are alive. The 11 o'clock |
shift which came up this morning reported
hearing rappings, and every man of the |
| shift came up feeling absolutely convinced |
| that some of the entombed men were alive. i
i They not only heard the
| they answered them.
rappings, but
The raps were first heard about 10.15.
At that hour several of the men on the
shift had managed to crawl over the debris
about 110 feet from the face of the fall.
Here they found an open space blocked by
a mass of rock and coal, over which it is |
impossible to force a way. While they |
were moving about there, examining the
fall, they were startled hy hearing five dis- |
tinct taps on the rail, two with a little in- |
terval between them, and then three rap-
idly. Before they recovered from their as-
_ “Some of them are alive in there, boys,’
‘cried William D. Owens, foreman of the |
shift. ‘Do you hear those rappings ? They |
are not made without cause.’ i
One of the men raised his pick and sent
back the tap. Then all listened intently. |
Back came the answer, clear and distinctly,
and leaving not a doubt in the minds of
the men who heard it as to its import. |
Again they tapped and again came the .
answer, and so they kept it up from* 10:15 |
until 11 o'clock, when the other shift went
The news spread rapidly about the town |
there is a big crowd at the head of the
shaft. ; !
The cheering news was further confirm-
the men who had,
the fall to the clear
crawled over
rapping upon it, received an answer. This
fully convinced that some of their com-
rades are alive.
How many have escaped being crushed
perhaps a horribly slow death, it is im- |
possible to say. It is supposed that the |
25 men who were working 200 feet further |
| the slope before the fall over-took them and |
| closed them in.
| safety between two falls and are there now, |
i 2.2
waiting for the rescuers.
{is only a thin veil petween them and the |
accomplishment of their purpose. The fox
is in sight, the hounds are baying and the
| huntsmen are taking walls and fences and
there first.
Edison is under the impression that the
victory would be within easy reach if he
had the time to give to the subject, but
other matters of still greater importance
engage his attention.
couraging, and while this wizard is invent-
ing a few flying machines and doing other
odd jobs of a like sort, possibly some ame-
teur enthusiast with his eyes open and a
| good head on his shoulders will stumble
| against the problem and solve it.
| With colored photography the pleasures
{of life would be greatly enhanced. Ah
with afine bicycle and a camera of that
- kind, why, people would be almost unwill-
; ing to die, for the earth would become a
very agreeable corner in Paradise. -
| The Clearficld and Beech Creek cor-
| Iespondent of The Coal Trade Journal writes
| to his paper that ‘‘The officers of the Inde-
| pendent Knights of Labor in the district
| . REE . .
| are again discussing ways and means to aid
| in bringing about an advance in wages to
| the miners of the Virginia and West Vir-
ainia coal fields.”’ >
This is a wise move. For a long time
the miners were deluded by tariff buncom-
be but they have learned that this country
can produce far more coal than it consumes
and no amount of tariff will protect them.
During the ten months ending with April
1296 1,006,873 tons of anthracite and 1,-
874,805 tons of bituminous coal were sent
to other countries. The United States has
| everything to gain by free trade in coal.
| The Pennsylvania miner has to meet the
competition of the colored man in the Up-
per Potomac basin and of the convict in
Tennessee. The Beech Creek men are help-
| ing themselves in trying toraise the wages
[in Virginia. Since 1890 the coal produc-
I tion of this country has increased about
{ 7,500,000 tons annually and the number of
workmen from 191,000 to 244,000. While
the increase in the whole country was
7,500,000 the increase in the Virginia fields
was 5,000,000. While this was going on
the average selling price of coal in Penn-
sylvania dropped from 84 to 72 cents a ton.
The Virginias are now producing about
10,000,000 tons annually or about one-
tenth of the total output. Most of this
coal is mined by negroes who work for
wages that an Italian, Hun or Pole from
*‘pauper Europe’ would despise.
Stick to Democracy.
The Party 1s Greater Than any Single Issue.
Ex-Speaker Crisp, of Georgia, who has
been, as a candidate for United States sena-
| tor, making a red hot canvass for “free sil-
ver’ in his state, addressing an audience
of free silverites at Stone Mountian on
Decoration day, said : ‘‘The great question
| is that of finance. We must take hold of
it as we have done before, relying on a fair
| and honest ballot. But if the result is
| against silver we must stick by the party
| and cast our ballot for the nominees, who
| ever they may be. this is the only way to
| gain success. You will never see a party
that is for all you are for and ‘against ail
you are against. We must vote for the
| men who come nearest to our platform.’
Whatever the outcome at Chicago, whether
| for free silver or gold. Democracy is he-
| fore and above any other possible issue.
| Stand by I democracy. —Syracuse News.
ditches, each one in the hope of getting |
That is rather en- |
insomnia during these warm nights.
| feet down the slope.
: ! however, that they are not far from the
sure to win fame and fortune by discover- | however, that they : DE of
| this spot, even if there is no disturbance
All of them, or some of |
them, or, perhaps, only one of them, found
Whether they can live until a passage is |
| cleared to them is a question nobody likes |
to discuss. Inthe first place, it is impos- |
sible to tell how far they are from the place |
where the rescuers are now working. They
may be only 100 feet or they may be 600
The general belief is,
open space where the rappings were heard,
on account of the distinctness of sound,
but this open space is to-night 90 feet away
from the face of the fall.
It will take atleast three days to reach |
and more fall. Beyond this, as far as the
men can determine, the fall is solid for
some distance, and 25 feet a day will be
good progress through it. It will be at
least six days, perhaps ten, perhaps twenty,
before the rescuers reach them.
This is the eighth day of their entomb-
ment. Can they live 10 days more? This
is the question which is disturbing the
people. :
Three Poles lived 19 days ina mine at
Jannesville without food. Several men
lived 10 days in the Sugar Notch mine on
a mule. Three men lived in the Nanti-
coke mine floating on a log for nine days.
There is hope that the unfortunates in the
Twin shaft may do as well. They have
good air ; there is no doubt they have
water ; they may have a mule; they cer-
tainly have their lamps, and the fish oil in |
them will furnish some sustenance. {
The investigation by Inspectors Roder-
ick, Stein and Brannon will be commenced
to-morrow. It has not been determined
whether is will be public or private. The
relatives of entombed men have employed |
a lawyer to represent them.
Only an Assault.
As the prisoner stood before the Judge
he gave evidence of a man having passed
through a cyclone and tapered off on a
threshing machine.
“You are charged with assault and bat-
tery on your wife,” said the Court to the
prisoner. ‘‘Are you guilty or not guilty ?'’ |
“Not guilty, your Honor.”
‘The officer who arrested you says he
saw you fighting with your wife and pulled
you away from her.”’ :
“Yes, your Honor, he did, and I was
much obliged to him.”’
‘And still you say you are not guilty 2"
‘No, your Honor.”
‘‘How do you make that out ?”’
“Easy enough, your Honor. She called
me a drunken loafer, and I tackled her on |
the spot.”
“Don’t you call that assault and bat-
tery 27?
‘No, your Honor. Only assault ; she
did all the battering ; fook at me, your
Honor, and judge for yourself.’
His Honor, in view of the facts, cut the
fine one-half.—New York Recorder.
Don’t Do a Town Any Good.
Nine Classes of People Who are A Detriment to any
There are nine classes of people who do a
town no good and retard improvement and
progress, says an exchange. These nine class-
es are 1st, those who go out of town to do
their trading; 2nd, those who oppose im-
provements; 3rd; those who prefer a quiet
town to one of push and business; 4th;
those who imagine they run the town; 5th,
those who think business is done slyly
without advertising; Gth, those who deride
public spirited men; 7th, those who oppose
every improvement that does not originate
with themselves; 8th, those who oppose
every enterprise that does not appear to ben-
efit them, and 9th, those who seek to in-
jure the credit of an individual. Examine
the above list and see if your are to be
found in any’ of the; classes enumerated.
If you are you may come to the .conclusion
that you do the town no good: and retard
progress and improvement.
——It is said that a napkin wet with ice
water and laid across the eyes will induce
sleep éven in the most aggravated cases of
Courr.—The following named persons
have been been drawn as jurors for the
August term of quarter sessions, which
will begin here on Monday, August 24th.
Lewis Orndorf, merchant....
Thos. Zimmerman, laborer.
Frank Yearick, farmer..
Albert Hoy, justice...
Harry Frankenberger, clerk
Edward Craft, laborer....
Geo. R. Quick, carpenter.....
James 8, Weaver, farmer...
Ira Howe, laborer...........
A. Gi. Rager, mechanic...
Wm. Thompson, stock dealer
W. B. Poorman, carpenter.
Andrew Hunter, laborer....
David Vaughn, miner
John P. Seibert, farmer....
S. C. Bower, laborer.
George Hart-druggist. ...Bellefonte.
Nathan Corman, teamster. Haines,
Michael Smith, Iaborer.......ce............. Potter.
Charles Bressler, flsh commission........Haines,
Wm. B. Haynes, salesman. ..Snow Shoe,
Harvey Wise, fATMEr......cccecvenrni nnn Haines,
John W. Oyler, farmer.
Thos, Gibson, miner...
Henry Keen, farmer......
Andrew Glenn, farmer.
Howard Oliger, justice.
Joseph Apt, laborer...
John L. Shaffer, farmer
Z. P, Shope, laborer.....
Joseph Cedar, baker.
J. B. Roan, farmer.......
Perry Gentzel, farmer...
Daniel Kerns, farmer...
T. F. Farner, teacher
Jas. H. Potter, merchant...
Stanley Watson, farmer
Simon Hayyard, laborer.....
iin Boggs.
.Snow Shoe.
Charles Grim, farmer we Miles,
WW. H. Meyer, merchant.. ....Penn.
Jimes Lingle, dairyman Boggs.
Geo. W. Thomas, gentleman... 3eilefonte.
W. E. Irvin, ins. agent.. ..Philipsburg.
Geo, Noll, farmer.......... Joggs,
Adam Stover, laborer sorisucesnsersses- MOK,
Christian Sharer, farmer.
J. W. Thompson, teacher
John Meese, merchant....
J. }. Reber, handle mfg
Daniel Nevil, farmer......
H. A. Snyder, merchant..
seeneeaeen Taylor,
eters Bellefonte.
now Shoe.
Daniel Spitler, mine boss.. .... Rush.
Harry E. Harper, clerk. ...Rush.
S.J. MceClintick, shoemake Potter
Wm. H. Johnsonbaugh, farmer. Tarion
RR. ¢. Duncan, miner.. ....Rush.
Martin Force, laborer. Burnside.
Andrew Ocker, farmer.. Miles,
W. E. Furst, farmer. Patton.
Jolin Wieland, carriage maker .. Harris.
Byron Teller, pump maker... ..Boggs,
Benj. F. Hoster, blacksmith. Howard,
Adam Krumrine, farmer....... ..Potter.
.. Halfmoon.
reece Miles,
Jacob Beck, farmer...
Alex Tanyer, farmer...
¢. W. Hosterman, hotel keeper
Andrew Guiser, shoemaker
Adam Heckman, laborer...
James Schofield, saddler
Richard Miller, carpenter. ............. Bellefonte,
Geo, W, RiRIEr, TAME .1ieee. seesmsseese Haines,
Fred Bramgard, farmer......................... Miles,
Edward Burns, miner Snow Shoe.
Henry Snavely, farmer Walker.
David Adams, laborer... Huston.
David Reed, farmer Ferguson.
John G. Rimmey, farmer ....8pring.
Emanuel Harter, farmer Miles,
Martin Brower, farmer........................ Benner.
John Shreffler, carpet weaver ..Benner.
James Heath, farmer...
Joseph Hoy, farmer.......
J. Mitch Cunningham, conf
John Twigg, farmer.......... en RUSH,
Gust Witherite, farmer.. .Union.
Nathan James, farmer. ..Liverty.
Frank Haugh, farmer.. Miles.
I). L. Zerbe, bank clerk. [illheim.
H. K. Grant, Ins. agent.. Philipsburg.
Elins Hancock, teacher..... ....Boggs.
James McMullen, gentleman... Boggs.
J. N. Leitzel, auctioneer.. Gregg.
3. C. Daly, farmer............. Curtin.
Jacob Gentzel, farmer ..Penn.
Joel Kling, farmer, ..Marion.
Jere Donovan, farmer «SPINE,
M. F. Hess, farmer......... Haines.
J. W. Smith, tanner ...Potter.
Abram B. Miller, gentleman ..College.
John R. Keller, clerk. ...Bellefonte.
George Weaver, farmer Curtin.
(eo. Wise, 18DOTer.«...c.o0ecviei cre rrnnns vere Miles.
John Bechdel, farmer.................. Liberty.
H. H. Hewitt, carpenter............... Philipsburg.
Harry Baring, laborer.................. Philipsburg.
Ezra Tressler, farmer ...Harris,
A. (. Moyer, superintendent.................. Rush.
Joseph Funk, laborer... servecenses BOZLS,
-———A well known minister gave utter-
ance a few days since to the following ad-
vice which is so full of good sense that we
present it to our readers. It is addressed
to young ladies and they would do well to
give the subject due consideration. ‘Do
| not ask your mother to wash the dishes
while you preside at the piano. God help
. the young man so unfortunate as to marry
a young woman ignorant of the practical
duties of home life.
around our fair daughters. Too many of
| our homes are controlled by the children
instead of by the parents. This lack of
home restraint finds its penalty in the af-
ter life of sorrow and remorse.”
——Some G. O. P. organs are making
much of the fact that McKinley is receiv-
ing messages of congratulation from Repub-
licans in which they say, ‘‘You will sweep
the country ;”? ‘You will surely be elect-
ed,” etc. Immediately after his nomina-
tion, in 1892, like turgid messages poured
in upon Benjamin Harrison. According to
our recollection, the Honorable Ben fell by
the wayside, notwithstanding the effusive
soothsayers. It would, perhaps, be wise to
bide the ides of November to see if the
Honorable Bill will do any better.
——The Mormon church suspended Mos-
es Thatcher for saying the church should
mind its own business and not meddle in
politics. For answer Moses’ fellow citizens
put a plank in their political platform de-
claring for the complete divorce of church
and State. They sent Moses as a delegate
to the Chicago convention besides.
—— “I found a good bargain in men’s
shoes to-day,’’ said Jorkins, after he had
picked everything on the supper table. to
“You have had better luck than I ever
had,” retorted his wife.’
——First Goat—‘“Why, Nanette, what's
the matter ?”’
Second Goat—*‘Appendicitis, William.”
First Goat—‘‘Stove pipe ?”’
Second Goat—‘‘No ; art posters.”
——Ex-Governor Boies, of Iowa, cw.
vates a farm of 2500 acres, and is ong, .f
the most prosperous agriculturalists in 4p
State. He is worth upward of $300,0¢
There are -dangers--ion fancy,
Women’s bread winning has been treated
by many writers, but to avoid the discour-
aging experience so many encounter, a
woman must have some one secret of suc-
cess. Let her learn some one thing so
thoroughly that her way of doing it shall
create a demand for her work. A superfi-
cial education only fits one to battle the
world with pointed weapons, hut a thor-
ough training in some profession, trade or
art of market value provides one with the
proper materials for a struggle for exist-
Mis. Sarah Frances Dick has been cash-
ier of the First National hank of Hunting-
don, Ind., for fifteen years.
It is a very common practice amopg
women to wash the hands in water to
| which a little ammonia has heen added.
This is all very well if the supplementary
processes are carried out, but the simple use
of ammonia in the water will make the hands
rough and disagreeable almost beyond en-
durance. :
Use the ammonia by all means, but do
i not forget that it is unfit for toilet use un-
less its effects are carefully removed by
some suitable agent. Asa cleanser it is
invaluable, but it is strongly alkaline, de-
stroying the natural oil on and near the
surface of the skin, causing roughness and
a tendency to wrinkle.
After the use of any alkaline preparation
—and remember that many soaps contain
alkali—the hands should be rinsed in clean
soft water, dried with a soft towel, and
rubbed with some soothing compound ;
glycerine and rose water, almond oil or di-
luted honey will do. This restores the
softness of the skin and prevents chapping.
When the finger nails are dry and break
| easily, vaseline rubbed on after washing
| the hands will do a world of good. i
| ree.
Mis. Mary Mahew, of South Latrobe,
{ Pa., has just completed a quilt of white and
| red shades, which contain 7,500 separate
| pieces of cloth.
| that fastidious women have entirely aband-
joned its use in favor of plain taffeta or
| double-faced Satin ribbons.
A pretty addition to a pink or blue shirt
waist is a pique stock and belt. They
launder nicely and always Took fresh and
clean. Mount the belt with a silver buck-
le, and with the stock wear a black satin
string tie, with bow in the front.
| -
| Dresden ribbon has become so common
Black and white striped satin jacket bod-
ices, trimmed with black and white lace
insertion are made with fronts of white
| mousselaine de soie embroidered in black
and completed with a jetted ceinture.
These are worn with skirts of black satin
| brocade of large pattern or of black silk
etamine trimmed with black satin folds.
India mulls of exquisite texture and
sheer white linen lawns and organdies are
{made up in simple charming styles this
season, with skirts finished with a very
deep hem and one row of lace insertion
above, the sleeves close to the arm from
the wrist to three inches or so above the
elbow, the fore-arm nearly covered with
diagonal rows of lace insertion. The full,
short puff, or three graduated ruffles set in
one above the other, are of the dress fab-
ric bordered with the insertion, or they
are formed merely of four or five inch-
! wide tucks, which give great fullness to
the ruffles. In this case, the entire bodice
or else the yoke of the bodice, is formed of
the tucked goods, the tucks, as a rule, run-
! ning horizontally across the figure. In
other cases, the seamless waist or the yoke
alone is made of all-over embroidery over a
white or tinted lining. A pretty little
French gown of cream-white India mull is
trimmed on the bodice, skirt edge, and
sleeves with small frills of the mull bor-
dered with two rows of cream-white satin-
ribbon of the narrowest width that is made.
The effect is dainty and girlish.
{No very marked change in the fashion of
hairdressing has yet made its appearance,
but it is no longer considered good taste to
| wear anything but the very lightest of
| fringes, and hardly any curls are worn on
the forehead.” The Pompadour style which
is most in keeping with the fashionable
coats and basques, has almost all the
waved hair combed back from the face, es-
peCially in the centre, and one or two curls
only are left on the forehead at either side.
Almost as numerous as the leaves of the
trees are the neck finishings of the up-to-
date summer girl.
waists finished at the neck ,4ith just a
tion for the various collar arrangements she
has in store with which te change the gen
eral look of each waist. A
It is surprising the difference .smh a
small thing as a collar vill make, Ke, it is
a well-known fact to’ eery womans, and
she takes full advantsfe of it. Ri#bons
and bows have had a .)nger Jease of, life
than generally falls { the 1
but they*€ Sj#
ites in the collar lig’ 8 :
The only noticeanl change in the™ 18
that the bow has, ir some cases, me"
from the back of the neck to under the
chin, but this idea isnot nearly as becPMm-
ing or graceful as the old way, and for t
reason, not as populyr, {
Laces and fluffs of al] kinds play an if~
portant part in the neck touches for suf?
mer evening gowns,
Little boa-like arrangements of puffe:
and knotted lace or net are handy and bé-
of any 3sh-
1 prime £0
porches or to throw around one’s neck a
ter dancing.
Stocks of all styles and colors are on the
high wave of summer-girl favor, from bril-
liant red to solemn black. With big bows
and tiny bows they march at the head o
the line of shirt waist finishings.
It is quite the thing to number amony!
one’s shirt waists a navy blue or black tat-
feta, cut on the lar shirt-waist pattern
and to weap with it white collar and cuffs.
1t is exgegdingly neat and stylish. A
good mapy of the silk shirt waists a:
made With full fronts, which hang over ti €
belt on, the blouse plan.
- / L
A gharming costume of bluette linen 1S
ye flaring plain skirt, unlird
and, exceedingly cool. The bodice is as
nalty as possible, with buttons galore. It
|i in soft blousy effect, the tiny folds at
the front caught down by small, gld-
“rimmed pearl buttons. It is a doles
breasted affair, fastened blindly on the left
| ee oddly pleated sleeves are headdl on
| the shoulders by a row of the buttons one
| to each pleat, to match the front o he
bodice. The gown is finished by a stiff,
plain stock, and wide, deep cuffs :f the
linen. A small chapeau of mixed -ellow
and red straw is trimmed with a hue bow
of chameleon blue and green taffeta ribbon
| and clusters of large-stemmed blue es.
ogg =e
She has the majority of her ordinary °
plain little band, which agts a; a féeunda=-
witching scraps for coolish evenings gq :
% 2