Fe
‘flirting.
Bellefonte, Pa., Jan. 22, 1897.
THE OLD CALENDAR.
i
The calendar of ninety-six
Now totters to its fall,
And that for ninety-seven comes
To crowd it from the wall.
When that old card was posted up—
It seems but yesterday—
Its ink was fresh, its colors bright,
But now it's torn and gray.
Like faithful friend, it ne'er deceives,
But always answers straight
When with inquiring eyes we turn
To ascertain the date, :
Though questioned oft, by day and night,
Our trust it ne’er betrays -
A sentinel of time it stands,
With record of the days.
And as we look fond memories rise
Of days that it has seen
Since it was placed upon the wall
With all its lustre clean.
In reminiscent mood our minds
Recall the pleasant hours
When skies were bright, and hearts were
gay,
And paths seemed strewn with flowers.
And, thinking of the year to come,
We wonder if—but, pshaw !
+ This moralizing doesn’t pay
When doubts arise to awe.
The old must go, the new must come,
Time's always on the wing,
And every year to every life
Its share of joys will bring.
AN ARMY COQUETTE.
Incivil life the good old days were at a
time not nearer than 50 years past, but in
the service a sun that rose ten years ago
shone on a good old day. There are rail-
roads now, and big garrisons near towns,
and there are no Indians—as good old
soldiers understood Indians—and gambling
is in discredit, and colonels whose orders
are obscured by liquor fumes have de-
creased 98 per cent, and there are houses
with every improvement instead of wall
tents and adobe huts, and the men have as
many rights as women in Wyoming, and
the officers have fresh oysters and don’t
pay $1a bottle for beer, and their wives
have more interesting subjects to consider
than each other’s most sacredly private
business--wherefore there is no longer war
in time of peace. Nevertheless, 10, 15, 20
years ago—-when all these things were—-
was the good old time before the service
had begun to go to the particular bow-
WOWS.
This that T am going to tell happened in
the good old days. It could not very well
happen now, because, as I say, things have
changed. At the time Betty Mandeville’s
father was in command at Apache and Betty
was engaged to be married to an unusual-
ly fine fellow, whose name is not part of
the story. He was a second lieutenant,
and he was in love, with all the beautiful
disregard of the facts of life that is char-
acteristic of the enamored state.
Of course the post knew of the engage-
ment before either of the two most inter-
ested parties did. That was because this
happened in the good old days. For the
same reason—though it can occur some-
times even now—opinions on the match
flew thick and fast and obscured the sky of
charity. They said that the second lieu-
tenant was making a fool of himself, which
was the only unkind remark he fell heir
to. But Betty fared worse. She came of
a bad strain. There were things in the
histories of both her parents that everyone
knew and no one was supposed to know.
Her father was English and had been a
jockey. He was the son of a concert hall
singer and a man whose only nobility was
his birth.
Mrs. Mandeville—who was more Mex-
ican than Spanish—ore a good Castilian
name, which covered a multitude of sins.
There were any number of Mandeville
children younger than Betty, and all un-
mietakably favoring their swarthy mother.
They were so dirty that they were a dis-
grace to the post. But Betty was tidy—as
to dress—and was blond—Afluffily, curlily
blond, with a fine skin and innocent blue
eyes and a rosebud moath. It was said
she look like an English professional
beauty, but there was no one to recognize
the startling likeness to the concert hall
‘grandmother. She had a taste for laces
and high heeled slippers that may have
been either a Spanish or theatrical in- |
heritance. And she was beautiful beyond
a question, with a beauty that was only
skin deep.
After she had promised to marry the
second lieutcnant Betty went down to
Lowell to visit her aunt, who was her
mother’s sister and was the wife of Captain
Locke. Betty knew that she would enjoy
herself more if the engagement were kept a
secret. - She could keep it quiet, because it
was in the good old days, and news travel-
ed slowly, and distances were great.
Mrs. Locke had nothing to be proud of
but Betty, who detested her mother and
all her mother’s family, liked her uncle
well enough and got along famously with
him despite his temper. She could her-
self understand how life with one of the
Franquelos might change a naturally
placid disposition.
On the second day of her stay her aunt
took her to stay over night with Senora
Franquelo in Tucson, which was the be-
ginning.
The Franquelo family was large, and
most of it dwelt in the one house—an
adobe with the external whitewash broken
off in oddly shaped pieces and built as all
adobes were built in the good old days—one
story around a courtyard. There was
nothing in the courtyard but chickens and
ollas—broken and otherwise—for the soil
of Tucson is not fertile. Outside, where
the narrow doorway faced upon the street,
hardly less white under the burning sun
than the whitened walls that lined it, a
mocking bird cage of willow hung against
the house, with a red chile stuck between
ite bars. It was the first time Betty had
been under the ancestral roof.
Besides her grandmother, who was more
unpleasant than the aunts, there were
many cousins, male and female. Of these,
two—second cousins—were in love. They
were Carlos and Ines. In less than ten
minutes Carlos had deserted black browed
Ines and was languishing at Betty with his
two soft eyes. Ines was openly wretched,
Carlos openly infatuated. Betty openly
But Carlos did not know that.
Betty and her aunt went back to Lowell
the next day, and the same evening Car-
los rode over to the post to see her.
There were six officers calling on Miss
Mandeville, so Carlos sat apart and sulked.
But he outstaid them all. When they
had gone, after a supper of canned oyster
stew and tamales, he drew his chair close
beside the sofa upon which Betty was half
reclining.
“W’y do you like doze offecers better
dan me ?”’ he asked her.
“I don’t, said Betty.
“Do you noot truly ?”’
‘Of course I don’t. How could I?”
Carlos was not accustomed to Betty’s
like, and, as even those who should have
known better had believed her because of
her round, blue eyes, he was not to be
blamed for his faith. . “Would you rather
talk to me?”
‘A great deal rather.”
“But dey haf staid so late dat I must
800n £0." w.
“It’s not late. It’s only half past 12.
It would be too bad of you to go just when
we began to get a chance to settle down
for a nice, cozy talk.”’
Carlos persisted coyly, ‘But you weel
weesh to sleep.”
“Very well,” Miss Mandeville shrugged
her shoulders, ‘‘then you had better go.
Ines may get angry if you stay, and you
like her more than you do me.”
Carlos denied this in words that were
neither kind nor just to Ines, but Betty
damned her with faint praise.
She was not a clever conversationalist
nor was Carlos Franquelo, but they kept
each other interested until very late, and
when Carlos went home Betty stepped out
to the front porch with him and put her
hand in his with the least bit of a pres-
sure.
‘Can I kees you ?’’ Carlos asked baldly.
“I suppose so, because we're cousins,
you know,’’ Betty assured him as she
raised her innocent face to his handsome
Mexican one.
He whispered : ‘I lofe you, oh, I lofe
you! You are beeutiful, beeutiful.’”” And
Betty laughed a little and told him he was
silly when they had only known each
other for two days.
Now, with Betty’s beauty and other at-
tractiveness, it was natural that she should
have a great deal of attention from the
bachelors ; but Carlos’ devotion was so
marked that they drew off one by one,
leaving the field pretty much to him. They
resented Betty’s permitting the young
Mexican to follow her about incessantly,
even though he were a second cousin. As
for the girl, until it was too late she did
not see the harm she was doing. Then all
the officers had deserted her. and then
there was only Carlos. Well, Carlos was
handsome and good enough game, so she
led him on.
It was not her fault surely that she
didn’t know the ways of Mexican lovers.
She had told plenty of men that she loved
them, and nothing had happened. But one
night she told this to Carlos at his urgent
request, and the next day, at about
“stables,” ‘as she was swinging lazily in
the hammock on the porch, she saw three
buggies, containing two men each, coming
up the line. In the first sat Carlos and his
brother ; in the others remoter male rela-
tives.
Betty guessed the truth at once, and her
pink cheeks turned white. She ran into
the house and sceeamed loudly for her
uncle.
“Oh, Uncle Nat,’’ she begged, when she
found him in his room, ‘Carlos and Jose
and all his nasty old relatives are coming
here, Send them away, won’t you?
Please do.” She clung to his arm.
“Why shall I send them away? Are
they going to murder the poor littic girl?”
‘No, no, no. But I think they’re going
to ask you to let me marry them.’:
“All of them.”
Betty lost her temper and flew into a
white rage. ‘Stop your fool joking and
do what I say. You tell them I’m sick,
and tell that——Carlos that I hate him.”
Carlos found the captain and made his
demagd in due form. The young lady’s
father not being there, he felt that her
uncle could take the place of a parent. He
wished to ask the hand of his beautiful
niece, knowing that she herself was will-
ing to bestow it.
‘How do you know that?’ the captain
asked.
‘‘She tell me so.”
“When ??
“Last night. She tell me dat she loved
me, so to-day I come for to ask her from
ou.’
‘Are you sure she said she loved you
Franquelo ?"’
‘‘Oh, yes, sairtinly. She kees me also.’
The captain left the room and went to
find his niece. ‘‘Elizabeth, that fellow
says that you told him you loved him.
Did you?”
“The old fool.”
“Did you ?”’
“Supposing I did? He made me. He's
an idiot to think I mean every little thing
Isay !”
“Did you kiss him ?”’
“No.”
The captain’s face cleared, then be-
thought him of the ways of women. ‘Did
you let him kiss you ?’’
‘Perhaps. I don’t know.”
He caught her hand. Come in here to
Franquelo and explain yourself. You'd
better say you’ll marry him after that pro-
ceeding.” in 1
Betty was frightened. Her d&fiance
changed to pleading. ‘‘Please don’t make
me see him, Uncle Nat, dear. Please.
‘‘Come on.”’
“But‘ Uncle Nat, I can’t say I’ll marry
him. I was only fooling. I’m engaged to
another man.”’
Captain Locke dropped her hand and re-
turned to the sitting room.
“Franquelo,’’ he said coldly, for he dis-
liked his nephew sincerely, *‘I regret that
this unpleasant thing should have you
under my roof. My niece tells me that
she was not in earnest, and that she is soon
to marry another man. However, she shall
not stay another day with me to trouble
you or any one else. I shall send her
home to-night.’’
* * * * *
““They’re a bore.”
Betty was sitting snlkily in the waiting
room at the Tucson station about half past
7 o'clock the same night. Her uncle was
seeing to the checking of her trunk out-
side. When he came back, a man whom
he recognized even in the late twilight as
Carlos Franquelo ran past him toward a
horse that stood in the street 4 few yards
away and going hurriedly to where he
had left his niece he found her lying full
length on the floor and dead. Her yellow
curls were wet and dark with blood, and
her face was quite disfigured because the
pistol had been held close to it.
* * * * *
When the news was broken to the second
licutenant, he called Providence a great
many hard names, which is frequently all
the thanks Providence gets for doing us a
good turn.—Gwendolen Qverton in San
| Francisco Argonaut.
——There are 119,000,000 old copper
pennies somewhere. Nobody knows what
has become of them except once in a while
a single specimen turns up in xchange. A
few years ago 4,500,000 bronze 2 cent
pieces were set afloat.
these are outstanding. Three million $-
cent pieces are scattered over the United
| States, but it is very rarely that no one is
| seen.
Three million offburn it.
Bombay’s Great Plague.
More Than Half The People Have Fled To Escape
Death.—The City Panic Stricken—Bodies Abandon-
ed in the Streets—Not Enough Men Can Be Found
to Bury the Dead—Bazaars Deserted—Few Euro-
peans Attacked.
Every day the plague at Bombay becomes
worse. It is estimated that nearly half
the population of the city has fled to escape
death. The situation is greatly aggravated
by the prevalence of the famine, thousands
of the natives who leave the city having
absolutely nothing on which to support
themselves in the country, and thus they
fall victims to the slower death from
starvation.
Eight thousand fugitives are camping
out at Adheri, where every condition is fav-
orable to an outbreak of colera. There is |
a scarcity of water in and about town, and
the sanitary arrangements are of the crud-
est character.
In Poona and Bandra the plague is rag-
ing with great virulence. The efforts of
the physicians to stay the progress of the
disease in the slightest degree have been
fruitless, and the death rate is exceedingly
high. Hundreds of persons attacked by
the disease havedied in two or three hours,
after suffering dreadful agony.
The customs of the natives add to the
hideousness of the plague. The Moham-
medan cemeteries are over crowded, aud it
is impossible to find men enough to dig
graves and bury the dead.
The sound of dirges is incessant in and
around the places where the Hindoos burn
their dead, in accordrnce with their time-
honored custom, and the funeral music has
a most depressing influence on all who hear
it, natives and foreigners alike.
It is said that numbers of dead bodies of
Parsees, the religious sect who expose their
dead bodies to be eaten by the vultures,
are slowly decomposing in the open air in
the places in which they are left.
They have not been eaten by the vul-
tures, the birds having been overgorged by
the great abundance of corpses.
Everywhere the greatest difficulty is
found in obtaining men to carry the dead
to the cemeteries, burning places, and the
Dokhamas, or ‘‘towers of silence,” of the
Parsees. Even relatives shun their last
service to their dead, fearing that they will
contract the disease by touching or ap-
proaching the corpses. In many cases bod-
ies have been found abandoned in the
streets, their bearers having been overcome
by fear while taking them to their last
resting place.
It is now well established that the dis-
ease is not a mysterious ‘‘stroke’’ from Hea-
ven, a visitation from God beyond control of
man, but an indirect product of dirt and
bad food, commencing among the classes
least able to resist the virsus, and scarcely
touching those whose higher standards of
life and general diet enable them to defy
it. At the same time this correlation of
the plague with poverty opens up serious
possibilities during the present famine in
India. But a process of cleaning has taken
place in Bombay on a scale that would
have been beyond the powers of any city of
medieval Europe, and which is still be-
yond the powers of any Asiatic city outside
of British India. The essential features of
the British Indian sanitation are a pure
and practically inexhaustible water supply
brought by engineering works from distant
sources of the cities, a complete system of
the municipal distribution of the supply,
the power thoroughly fiushing the sewers,
and a scientific drainage system for rapidly
getting rid of noctious products. It is
with her water works that Bombay is fight-
ing the plague and has brought within
manageable compass a pestilence that has
hitherto defied control. Other cities of
British India, notable Calentta, which have
thorough systems of water supply, have
thus far defended themselves from the vis-
itation with entire success. And the meth-
ods adopted in Bombay donbtless form the
most valuable sbject lesson in protection
against the scourge ever afforded the cities
and nations of the East. It is essentially
a disease that cannot exist where -cleanli-
ness prevails and wholesome food is to
be obtained.
How Camphor is Made.
One of the principal products of the ter-
ritory which has come under Japanese ad-
ministration as a result: of the war with
China is camphor. In the Scottish Geogra-
phical Magazine. Mr. John Dodd, writing
on Formosa, tells us how this product is
cultivated.
Small shanties are scattered over the
hills where the camphor tree grows, and in
directions the clearing of the woods is go-
ing on at a rapid rate. On the hillsides
are built distilleries, consisting of oblong-
shaped structures, principally of mud
bricks, and about ten or twelve feet long,
six feet broad and four high.
On each side are five to ten fire-holes,
about a foot apart and the same distance
above the ground. On each fire-hole is
placed an earthen pot full of\ water, and
above it a cylindrical tube, about a foot in
diameter and two feet high, passes up
through the structure and appears above
it.
The tube is capped by a large inverted
jar, with a packing of dark hemp between
the jar and the cylinder to prevent the es-
cape of steam. The cylinder is filled with
chips of wood about the size of the little
finger, which rest on a perforated lid cover-
ing the jar of water, so that when the steam
rises it passes up to the inverted jar, or
condenser, absorbing certain resinous mat-
ter from the wood on its way.
While distillation is going an an essen-
tial oil is produced, and is found mixed with
the water on the inside of the jar. When
the jar is removed, the beady drops solidify,
crystallization commences, and camphor,
in a crude form, locking like newly formed
snow, is detached by the hand, placed in
baskets lined with plantain leaves, and
hauled off to the nearest horder town for
sale.
Peacocks Instead of Watchdogs.
‘The place of a watchdog on the farm or
country place,” said a prominent
man the other day, “might be well taken
by peacocks and guinea fowls. I long
since adapted peacocks alone to guard my
place and nothing can come around the
premises night or day, without causing an
alarm from them. They are more watch-
ful than any dog I ever owned. My ex-
perience with guineas has not been so ex-
tensive, but I believe they are also sure to
give an alarm, or rather a good many
alarms, if any strange man or beast should
venture near them by night or day.”
~*To Know Whether It Is Good.
The best and most simple way of doing
this is to cut a small piece of the silk and
If it burns out quickly, leaving a
clear, crisp, gray ash, the silk is pure ; but
if it smoulders and leaves a heavy red or
reddish- brown ash, it has been treated
with chemicals and will not wear well.
HER
A Hold Up.
An “Old Timer" Tells How a Young Lady Flagged
a Train and Called a Conductor Down.
In the year 1885, says ‘‘Old Timer’ in
writing to yesterday’s Pittsburg Post, the
passenger and freight department on the
Hollidaysburg branch was represented as
follows : Engineer, Yank Jones ; fireman,
James Stewart; passenger conducto?,
James H. Cramer ; baggagemaster, Christ-
ian Kephart ; freight conductor, David T.
Cramer. When not too heavy to do so,
the freight and passenger trains would be
hauled together ; thus the freight conduc-
tor was often with the passenger train.
I remember a very laughable incident
that occurred that summer, and there is no
doubt some persons still living in Holli-
daysburg and Altoona who were passengers
| on the train that day and who will remem-
ber the circumstance. One, I know, will
recall i the fireman, James Stewart, who
is now;4n engineer on the eastern slope of
the mountain. On one of our trips from
Altoona to Hollidaysburg, with several
freight cars attached to the regular passen-
ger train, and while rounding the curve
south of Allegheny station, Yank dis-
j covered a lot of cows on the tracks. He
I sounded the cattle alarm and called for
| brakes, but one of the cows was struck and
| killed. Two or three days after the killing
of the cow, while the train was on its noon-
day trip from Hollidaysburg to Altoona,
and when near the place where the cow
was killed, Yank called for brakes twice in
a way that said he wanted to come toa
stop as quickly as possible, and we all re-
sponded to his call promptly and soon had
the train stopped ; and there, standing in
the heavy rain that was falling at the time,
was a handsome young girl of 16 or 17
years of age, witha red bandana hand-
kerchief tied on a stick, with which she
bad flagged the engineer. Hank asked her
what was wrong, thinking the bridge over
Mill run had been washed away. She said
she wanted to see Jim Cramer, the passen-
ger conductor. Jim was standing on the
platform of the baggage car, and the plat-
form of the car was full of passengers, all
wanting to know what was wrong and
why the train had been stopped at that out
of the way place.
Jim stepped off the platform and the
girl walked toward him. He asked her
what she wanted. She replied loud enough
to be heard by all the passengers: *I
want you to pay me for my cow that you
killed the other day ; and you cannot
move this train until you do pay me.”
This stand-and-deliver demand made by
the young lady knocked all the talk out of
Jim, and before he could reply the pas-
sengers, who were all well acquainted with
Jim, said :
“Yes, Jim, pay the girl for her cow, so
the train can go on to Altoona." .
By this time Jim had recovered his voice,
paying for the cow when he got to Altoona,
but the girl answered him, saying :
“No, you must pay me now, and you
cannot move this train until you do.”
However, Jim gave Yank a signal to go
ahead, and the train moved off on its way
to Altoona, and as far as we could see the
girl she was still waving the handkerchief
for the train to stop.
H. J. Lombardt was superintendent, and
Jim acquainted him with the facts in the
case. He made inquiries, and, I was in-
formed, sént the young lady the value of
the cow in the shape of his individual
check. It appeared the cow had heen a
gift to the young lady by her mother as a
wedding portion, and was highly prized
by ber. I could give the name of the
young lady who held us up, and no doubt
she is still living in the vicinity of the city
of Altoona, and may be a grandma now.
Gold in Alaska.
A Belt Three Hundred Miles in Length Discovered by
the Geological Survey.
An interesting report, made by Director
Walcott of the Geological Survey, showing
the presence of an enormous gold belt in
Alaska, has been forwarded to the House
of Representatives by the Secretary of the
Interior. The report tells the story of an
expedition that was sent out by the Geo-
logical Survey to determine the gold and
coal deposits along the line of the Alaska
coast. A second expedition followed in
May, 1896, going to the gold fields of the
Yukon River to investigate the report that
there were larre placer deposits along the
stream beds. The party traversed the val-
ley of the Yukon from the British bound-
ary on the east tothe mouth of the river on
the west. All of the well-known placer
deposits were examined, and the origin of
the gold in them was traced to the quartz
veins along the headwaters of the various
streams entering the Yukon. Sufficient
data were secured to establish the presence
of a gold belt 300 miles in length in Alas-
ka, which enters Alaska near the mouth of
Forty-Mile Creek, and extends westward
across the Yukon Valley at the ramparts.
Its further extent is unknown.
It is the opinion of the geologist in charge
of the expedition that it is entirely prac-
ticable to prosecute quartz mining through-
out the year in this region. He also dis-
covered along the river areas of consider-
able extent of rocks containing hard bitum-
inous coal.
The director thinks in view of these facts
that a reconnoissance map should be made
of the gold and coal areas in order to se-
cure an intelligent conception of the re-
sources of the interior of Alaska, and for
this purpose he asks an immediate appro-
priation of $25,000. -
Wiped Out the Whole Family.
A Murderer Kills Wife and Child and Takes His
Life.
Herman Stimm of Janesville, Wis., shot
and killed his wife and son, Friday night,
and then committed suicide. The troubles
which resulted in the triple tragedy had
had their origin several years ago, and cul-
timated in a suit for divorce. Stimm had
threatened to kill his wife, and she had ap-
plied to the Court for protection. The
crime was not discovered until the store
‘over which they resided was opened the
next morning. The body of the child was
in the bed, and that of Mrs. Stimm was
lying on the sitting-room floor. The body
of the murderer, with the revolver half
submerged in a pool of blood, lay on the
bed-room floor.
For Cigarette Fiends.
*‘Cigarettes,”” says a Chicago clergyman,
‘‘are made of the cheapest and worst to-
bacco.” The reverend gentleman is labor-
ing under a delusion. They are not as
good as that.
A New York youth who smoked 100
cigarettes a day tried to kill his brother.
Young men who smoke less than 100 a day
only try to kill themselves.
A Bangor, Me., firm contributed 2500
cigarettes to a fair held recently for the
benefit of a hospital. Its generosity would
have been more symmetrically ‘developed
had it sent along the coffins with the coffin
nails.
and told the girl that he would see about |
The ‘Bloody Angle.”
One of the Most Desperate Engagement in the
War.—Gen Horace Porter Tells of Scenes in the
Wilderness e—Trees Cut in Two by the Inces-
sant Musketry Fire.
I had been anxious to participate in the
scenes occurring at the ‘‘angle,’”” and now
got permission to go there and look after
some new movements which had been or-
dered. Lee made five assaults, in all, that
day, in a desperate and even reckless at-
tempts to retake his main line of earth-
works ; but each time his men were hurled
back defeated, and he had to content him-
self in the end with throwing up a new
line farther in his rear.
The battle near the ‘angle’ was proba-
bly the most desperate engagement in the
history of modern warfare. and present war-
fare, and presented features which were ab-
solutely appalling. It was chiefly a savage
Bras fight across the breastworks.
Rank after rank was riddled by shot and
shell and hayonets-thrusts, and. finally
sank, a moss of torn and mutiliated corpses ;
then fresh troops rushed madly forward to
replace the dead, and so the murderous
work went on. Guns were run up close
to the paparet, and double charges of can-
ister played their part in the bloody work.
The fence rails and logs in the breastworks
were scattered into splinters, and trees
over a foot and a half in diameter were cut
completely in too by the incessant musket-
ry fire. A section of the trunk of a stout
oak tree thus severed was afteaward sent to
Washington, where it is still on exhibition
at the National Museum. We had not only
shot down an army but a forest.
The opposing flags were in places thrust
against each other, and muskets were fired
with muzzle against muzzle. Skulls were
crushed with clubbed muskets, and men
stabbed to death with swords and bayonets
thrust between the logs in the parapet
which separated the combatants. Wild
cheers, savage yells, and frantic shrieks
rose above the sighing of the wind and the
pattering of the rain, and formed a demon-
iacal accompaniment to the booming of the
gnns as they hurled their missiles of death
into the contending ranks. Even the dark-
ness of night and the pitiless storm failed
to stop the fierce contest, and the deadly
strife did not cease till after midnight.
Our troops had been under fire for twenty
hours, but they still held the position which
they had so dearly purchased. My duties
carried me again to the spot the next day,
and the appalling sight presented was har-
rowing in the extreme. Our own killed
were scattered over a large space near the
‘‘angle,” while in front of the captured
breastworks the enemy’s dead, vastly more
numerous than our own, were piled upon
each other, in some places four layers deep,
exhibiting every ghastly phase of mutila-
tion. Below the mass of fast decaying
corpses, the convulsive twitching of limbs
and the writhing of bodies showed that
| there were wounded men still alive and
struggling to extricate themselves from
their horrid entombment. Every relief
possible was afforded, but in too many
cases it came too late. The places it came
too late. The place was well named the
“loody Angle.” :
The result of the battle are best summed
up in the report which the general-in-chief
sent to Washington. At 6:30 P. M., May
12, he wrote to Halleck as follows: ‘“The
eighth day of battle closes leaving between
three and four thousand prisoners in our
hands for the day’s work, including two
general officers, and over thirty pieces of
artillery. . The enemy are obstinate and
seem to have found the last ditch. We
have lost no organization, not even that of
a company, whilst we have destroyed and
captured one division (Johnson’s), one
brigade (Dole’s), and one regiment entire
of the enemy.’’ The Confederates had suf-
fered greatly in general officers. Two had
been killed, four severely wounded, and
two captured. Our loss in killed, wound-
ed and missing was less than seven thous-
and ; that of the enemy between nine and
ten thousand as nearly as could he ascer-
tained.—Campaigning with G.ant, in the
January Century.
McKinley Prosperity.
Among the banking institutions that
have recently been blighted by the hot
breath of the McKinley prosperity are the
following : The Atlas National bank, the
Dime Savings bank, of Chicago, Ill.; the
Scandia bank, of St. Paul, Minn.; the
Bank of Superior, of Superior, Wis.; the
McCoy Banking company, of Independence,
Mo.; the Commercial National bank, of
Roanoke, Va.; the Columbian National
bank and the Washington bank, of Minne-
apolis, Minn. Besides these bank failures
many business firms have gone to the wall.
Costly Ground.
A lot on Broadway, in New York, has
been sold for $1,600,000, or at the rate of
$258.57 per square foot. This price has
been exceeded but twice in land sales in
the metropolis—when $300.70 per foot was
paid for 508 square feet at the southeast
corner of Wall and Broad streets, and when
11,447 square feet at Broadway and Pine
were purchased at the rate of $267.87. The
former deal was made in 1885 and the lat-
ter in 1893.
Speakeasies in the State.
There are 35,000 speakeasies in Pennsyl-
vania where liquor is illegally sold and no
license paid and 24,000 licensed places for
the sale of liquor. This fact has been as-
certained by a committee created by the last
legislature to investigate the workings of
the high license law, with a view to cor-
recting its defects if here were any, and for
the purpose of making suggestions where-
by the law should be strengthened. The
committee’s report will call especial atten-
tion to the speakeasy.
——Judge: ‘This man says you shot
him in the back on purpose while out gun-
ning with him.”
Sam : ‘‘Dat ain’ so.
self axerdently.”’
Judge: ‘‘It’s almost impossible for him
to have shot himself in the back.’
Sam : ‘‘Oh, you ain’t posted on dat ere
nigger. Dere ain’t no mean trick dat ere
coon wouldn’t be guilty of, sah.”
He jist shot him-
——The Old Rascal : “Yes, I love little
girl babies.”
Miss Oso Sweete: ‘““Do you? And at
what age do you think they are most de-
lightfal 27’
The Old Rascal : ‘‘Oh, about 19 years
old.”
—There was a little man
And he had a little gun.
And one day they, one or both of them ex-
ploded ;
But no one blamed the gun
For the thing that had been done,
For, of course, it did not know the man was
loaded.
— Brooklyn Life.
FOR AND ABGUT WOMEN"
Mrs. Stevens, president of the Woman's
Christian Temperance union of the state of
Maine, and Miss Cornie M. Dow of Port-
land, daughter of Neal Dow, have together
been able to secure homes for 23 Armenians
in the state of Maine.
Violets, violets! In the millinery world
violets are holding forth at a great rate.
These popular flowers are on every
new hat, on corsage and on muff. Violet
sachets and extracts are now the foremost
perfume, as well.
It is said that every hearty laugh in
which a man or woman indulges tends to
prolong life, as it makes the blood move
more rapidly and gives a new and different
stimulus to all the organs of the body from
what is in force at other times. Therefore,
perhaps the saying, ‘‘Laugh and grow fat,"
is not an exaggerated one, but has a founda-
tion in fact. No truer words were ever
uttered than those which state so clearly,
‘‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you ;
weep, and you weep alone.”’ The jolly,
wholesome, happy-hearted people are those
who have most friends and see the best
that life holds out to them.
What pieces of inconsistency women are !
When ‘the small sleeves were introduced
they were pronounced horrible and every
one of them said they wouldn’t have them
and then straightway proceeded to have
them put in their gowns, and now they
are voted ‘‘just lovely.”
A new idea in skirt garniture is to have
two bias pieces of the material, four inches
wide and nine inches long across each hip
from back to front, the centre just touch-
ing the belt. This has seven buttons and
false buttonholes on the upper edge. A
bias fold to match is put around the foo$
of the skirt with the buttons, put on in
clusters of five at intervals of about 12
inches. It is very new and stylish.
A mustard-plaster ought never to blister
the skin. If it"burns too much an extrs
piece of muslin can be placed between if
and the body, and can be removed when
the patient becomes accustomed to the
heat. Mix the mustard with equal quan-
tities of flour and ground ginger.
That the rage for purple and the thou-
sand-and-one variations of this shade is
very trying to many women. It takes a
very white skin to wear it becomingly, as
it casts such a yellow shade.
For acold on the chest. There is no
better specific for most persons than well-
boiled or roasted onions, both for a cough
and for the clogging of the bronchial tubes,
which is usually the cause of the cough.
If eaten freely at the outset of a cold they
will break up even a serious attack.
In just a common, uninteresting street
there lives a little woman who has the soul
of an artist and the pocketbook of a type-
writer.
An unfortunate combination under ordi-
nary circumstances, but not so in this in-
stance, for, with a fluffy soul and ema-
ciated purse, she also possesses a genius for
color and economy.
She’s made herself a dining room that is
as pretty asa picture. This is the way
she did it : .
The floor she stained herself in dark oak,
to match the imitation oak woodwork in
the doors, windows and over mantel. The
stain she had mixed for the purpcse at an
ordinary painter's. It consisted of oil and
turpentine, with the least bit of coloring
matter. This mixture dries in the wood,
reveals the grain prettily, and only costs
eighty cents a quart.
Of course, she started in with a distinct
color scheme in mind—blue and white—
and selected her rug with this in mind.
She found she could get an ingrain rug four
feet by seven for $3, ora juterug, the
same size, for $5, and knowing the superior
wear to be gotten from the jute she gave
the extra §2, as the best economy in the
long run. She was also delighted to find
the blue and white colorings in the jute
particularly fine. >
Her four chairs were of pine, spindle-
backed, rush-bottomed, graceful and com-
fortable. They cost $1 a piece.
The square table was of pine and it cost
$2, and the hanging shelves, a foot deep
and three feet wide, which served asa
buffet, were of the roughest board, hung
on gilded rope. They cost exactly $3.
Five cans of white enamel paint a$
twenty cents a can converted the unin-
teresting pine into a pretty white dining
set. A single tub of Antwerp blue oil
paint added the Delft effect so popular now
in aristocratic breakfast rooms.
A couple of yards of Chinese blue and
‘white cotton at fifteen cents a yard cur-
tained the shelves and hid the china that
was not in the right colors, and was itself
a thing of beauty as well.
Unfortunately, the presence of a large
trunk was necessary in the room. It had
to stay open. She covered that trunk with
plain blue cotton jeans. A cover that
could be removed was neatly fitted and
surmounted by two square straw pillows,
also covered in jeans.
The dainty freshness of the window cur-
tains always suggested an unlimited bank
account and a resident laundryman. Snow-
white lawn was the groundwork, and the
figure dull blue, widely separated and
Delft-like to a degree. It cost eighteen
cents a yard. Narrow bands of blue jeans
held them in place instead of the usual
cheap trappings of gilt.
A small gypsy table, also painted white,
and bearing a small spread of jeans, edged
with coarse lace, stood in the window and
did duty as a holder of work baskets or tes
cups or dessert, as the hour and the occa-
sion demanded.
Over the buffet shelves were placed a
row of willow ware plates, which are fre-
quently pressed into table service, and
white tea-pots, platters and bric-a-brac
adorned the mantle.
A fad of this cleverly economical hostess *
is so eschew table cloths. The smooth,
white table surface is invariably laid with
doylies, centrepieces and tray eloths, some-
times white and sometimes blue and white,
or yellow, and her china service through-
out, though cheap, is blue and white.
The whole thing, bric-a-brac, pictures,
linen, floorstain, willow plates and all cost
just exactly $19. It isn’t ‘“‘swagger,” or
even Bohemian, but it’s fresh and pretty
and dainty, and it looks as if a lady ate
in it.
Never try to wear a shoe too small, or
that does not fit when you first put it on ;
there is no misery more nearly distracting
than a shoe that hurts the foot. Never let
your shoes get hard and dry ; don’t let
them run over ; don’t let the heels run
down ; don’t dry a wet shoe until you
have rubbed it well with a flannel cloth,
then with vaseline.