Bera an Bellefonte, Pa., Jan. 29, 1897. WINTER. The sky is drear, The woods are sere, At each uprising gust, By road and brake The dead leaves quake And shudder in the dust. O’er meadows brown Dull storm clouds frown, While glimpses of the sun, By contrast throw A colder glow Upon the moorland dun. Athwart the vale A vapor pale With ghostly motion shifts. Beyond the haze The foot-hills raise Their tops above its rifts. My heart stands still To feel the chill Of silent wood and field. The very flood Of nature's blood Seems suddenly congealed. "Tis not the view Of mountains blue That stirs my inmost soul, Nor overhead The clouds of lead That onward darkly roll. It is, that all On which a pall Of death has thus been laid, Will wake ere long To life and song, In spring's fresh garb arrayed. — Walter Scott. THE COLONEL AND THE MAJOR. BY JOIIN KEARNES WHITE. The colonel was born on the 10th day of December, and the major followed prompt- ly the next day. At least this was the tra- ditions in the old Virginia town which was the place of their nativity. To be sure, I heard one man say that he looked into the family Bible and had found the record of the major’s birth in March, but he was a croaker and a skeptic generally, and his cynical utterances can have no weight against a well-established tradition. This much is sure, however, that the day after the colonel was first sent to school the major’s name was also enrolled on the list of pupils. You see the way of it was this : The two families lived next door to each other, and naturally the boys became play- mates, and continued so until the colonel’s eighth birthday. Then the colonel’s moth- er decided that he was old enough to go to school. Not so, however, with the major’s. She thought that the major was ‘‘entirely too young to be sent out into the world yet’’—the ‘‘world’”’ meaning Miss Fannie Adams’s school down at the corner. So the colonel went to school and the major stayed at home—for one day. He could bear it no longer than that; the side yard was a desert without the colonel. He pleaded and wept until finally, with tear- ful eyes, the fond mother decided to send her son out into the world, and two young hearts were made supremely happy. On account of his advantages in age, and his longer experience in school life, the colonel undertook the office of patron to the major, which service the latter accepted very gracefully, until, having acquired some experience himself, he began to rea- son that the colonel was scarcely far enough ahead of him to warrant his atti- tude. So he rebelled against the colonel’s authority and proclaimed his independence. This lasted three days, and then the colo- nel regained his ascendency in a manner altogether unusual among the powers of the world. . ‘While so little older than the major, he was a good deal larger and stronger, though it must be added in justice to the latter, not a whit more courageous. He did not use his superior strength to coerce his form- er follower into renewed allegiance ; but the day that Tom Sykes, the bully of the school, attempted to take by force the major’s top, knocked him down, and was proceeding to administer a severe thrash- ing, suddenly the colonel appeared on the scene, and, promptly placing himself in front of the bully, engaged him in battle. ‘What a battle it was! It took rank among the classics of the school, and to this day the two or three surviving witnesses will tell you, with bated breath, how, after a long struggle, the colonel succeeded in whipping Tom Sykes, who was so much older and bigger and who had never been whipped before. And from that day forward the major never questioned the propriety of yielding his allegiance to the colonel. And the colonel in turn appreciated this devotion, so that when he raised a company to enter the Mexican war, and they elected him captain, and Fred Collins first lieuten- ant, he refused to accept the honor unless they made the major first lieutenant, and 80 they got together again and nullified the election of Fred Collins and elected the ma- - jor in his stead. And this added to the strength of the army, for Fred Collins left that company and raised one of his own, and was elected captain and went to the war, and, poor fellow, he was killed. And then when the great Civil war broke out and their regiment held a meeting to elect officers, the foremost local orator arose after Major Jett had been elected full colo- nel, and said : ‘‘Gentlemen of the—th Vir- ginia, it gives me great pleasure to put in nomination for the lieutenant-colonelcy of this regiment the name of that modest gen- tleman, that brave soldier, another veteran of the Mexican war, Lieutenant—'’ and he called the name of the major. And now the boys did cheer ! and the colonel led the cheering, and, in fact, it was whispered that the major’s nomination was due alto- gether to the colonel’s contrivance anyhow. Well, the major was just overwhelmed with pleasure and surprise, for he thought the name to be pronounced would surely be the colonel’s ; in fact he was a good deal astonished that Major Jett was elected commander instead of his friend. As it was, he rose to his feet, blushing and stam- mering, and after thanking the gentlemen for honor conferred, he said that there were many in that gathering who were more de- serving of this mark of confidence than he was, and that there was one in particular who was so well fitted for the office that he could not think for a moment of accepting it himself. Then he sat down, and every- one knew that he meant the colonel. And they also knew that he would stand by what he had said, and so the colonel was elected lieutenant-colonel by acclamation, and in the same way the major was elected a major. And they went through this war as they had gone through the other, and when it "was over they returned to their native town and looked each other in the face, and by that look inquired : ‘What shall we do now ?”’ For, having lost the inherited prop- erty which had been ample for all their wants, they knew it would be necessary to turn their hands to something to earn at least a meagre living. The colonel had “studied a little law ;’ the major had “done a little surveying.” Therefore, they. decided to open a small office, and soon on one of the doors appeared a modern sign bearing the colonel’ name and inform- ing the people that he was a ‘Notary Pub- lic’ and Commissioner in Chancery,’”’ and on the other side a sign with the major’s name, and beneath it simply the word “Surveyor.” And then they sat in their office and waited for patronage to come, and now and then a little did come, and by pinching and scraping they were able to pay for their office and the bedroom back of it, and irregularly to pay their board at Miss Sallie Carter’s, ‘‘around the square.” Once the colonel spruced up a bitand be- gan to ‘“‘pay some attention’ to Miss Sal- lie, but he soon dropped back into his old ways, and this brief departure comprised the entire history of the courting days of the two friends. Thus into a quiet routine their life set- tled, and so continued for 20 years. Every morning when they awoke it was, ‘‘Good- morning, colonel, I trust you slept well last night,’’ and, ‘‘Yes, thank you, major ; do you feel refreshed yourself, sir?’ And then they dressed and brushed their clothes and walked around to Miss Sallie’s whére they paid their respects to the ‘‘charming hostess’’ and whatever boarders were at the table then ; and after breakfast, asked if the Daily Landmark had come and if they might ‘‘glance over it,’’ and said they were thinking of subscribing for it themselves, and then with a bow and ‘‘pleasant day to vou all’’ they went back to the office, and the colonel would say, ‘‘Well, major, will | you be very busy to-day ?’’ and the major would reply, ‘‘Not very, colonel.” Ah, neither have I much on hand to-day ; how would you like to try a game of checkers ?”’ ‘Very much, colonel.”” And then, if the time were winter, they spread their board near an open coal fire ; if summer, under the old maple tree in front of the door ; and there they played until the dinner hour. Then, ‘““Dear me, we have occupied the entire morning ; this will never do; our business will suffer.”” Then dinner, then ‘“work,”’ then supper, then a smoke and talk of old times, then tobed. ‘Good night, major, pleasant dreams.” ‘‘Good- night, colonel, I hope you will sleep well after the fatigues of the day.” Thus, with rare exceptions, the days went by, the weeks, the months, the years, until the twentieth had come and gone. Then the letter came. It was addressed to the colonel, and read as follows : “ST. LOUIS, Mo.,— ——, 18—. “My Dear Cousin—You have probably forgotten, if you ever knew of, my exist- ence. Iam the grandson of your father’s brother who went to Kentucky so many years ago. My father afterward moved to Missouri, as you probably already know, and here I was born and reared. My fami- ly consists of myself, wife, and two child- ren, and we are the only representatives of my name, that I know of, except yourself. I recently met a gentleman who proved to be a Virginian, and he told me that you were not in the best of circumstances. Now, I have acquired a considerable amount of world’s goods, and shall be more than delighted if you will consent to come and make my house your home for the re- mainder of your life. Indeed, I shall take the privilege of a kinsman to insist that you do so. The wife and children have of- ten heard me tell the traditions of my an- cestry, and are all eagerness to see their Virginia relative. To show how much in earnest I am. I enclose the railroad ticket necessary to bring you to us. Please write me at once that you are coming, and when. ‘With the highest cousinly esteem and affection T am, “Yours, ete., 1) Such was the letter, and the colonel’s eyes fairly sparkled as he handed it to the major, remarking at the same time’ ‘‘Good news for us, major; good news for us. There is no doubt about it, you are—that is, I mean we are growing old, and I don’t mind confessing now that I have long been anxious as to my ability to provide proper- ly for us both when you should find it nec- essary to retire from business. In fact, we must both acknowledge that we have to use the greatest economy even now. But this settles it all, this settles it all. I real- ly had forgotten about the boy, or almost forgotten, but fortunately he has found us out and it is all right.” The major, upon reading the letter, pressed his friend’s hand, but a sad, wistful expression had come into his face. ‘‘This is indeed good fortune for you colonel, and I rejoice with you, but I—I—of course it saddens me to think of parting from you ; it could not be otherwise.”’ ‘‘Parting from me! What do you mean? There’ll be no parting from me.”’ “Why, yes, colonel, of course; he is your cousin, not mine ; and if, through consideration for you, he had done so, still I should have to decline. You see my name is not mentioned at all in the letterg nor is it to be supposed that it should be ; he probably never heard of me. Why should we think he had ? He knows you only through report, but then you are his kinsman ; it is both natural and right for you to live with him.”’ 1t must be remembered that Virginia is much like Scotland in the matter of family connections. : The colonel’s reply was to grasp the let- ter and read it again. He then, with a sigh, let it drop from his hand. ‘‘Yes, he said, you are right ; we shall have to de- cline this tempting invitation. Ah, well we have gotten along, and I suppose we can get along still. At first, though, it seemed to me to be a godsend to us.” ‘‘My dear friend, listen to me ; there is but one thing to be done, namely, for you to accept this hospitable offer of your cousin. It would be more than folly to decline it. As for me, I shall undertake to do both your work and mine; it will not be too much, and in that way I shall be able to lay aside something, besides living more easily than we do now. You see the in- come will be the same and the expense one- half. Then in time I will be able to join you in St. Louis, and if we cannot live in the same house we can see each other every day.’ “Yes, and I will also work, and being at no expense, can send you what I earn; and that will lessen the time immensely. We will do it, and the sooner the better.’’ And from that time the two thought of nothing, and talked of nothing, but the colonel’s journey and their plans for a final reunion. As the day of departure drew near their quiet life began to be quite stirring. They did not think they had so many friends. It scemed to them that everybody wanted to know their intentions, and that nearly everybody sympathized with them because they were to be separated. And hints dropped now and then, reminded them that they were no longer young, and therefore could not count with much certainty upon seeing each other again. In fact, this thought began to occupy their minds so largely that the first ardor was very much dampened ; but still the preparations went oun, and they said nothing to each other about doubts and fears—the major, because he had a secret project in his mind by which he hoped to have the major with him again soon. He would state the cir- cumstances to his cousin, who would proba- bly find some way to fulfill his desire with- out wounding the feelings of his friend. If not, then he would return and their old life would be resumed. But nature re- belled against reason, and they hoth began to lose sleep. By degrees appetite deserted them. They became haggard. At last the day arrived. The colonel said good-by to Miss Sallie and the board- ers. They noticed that his hand trembled and his lips quivered as the grasp was giv- | en and the word spoken. They went to the station. The major had attended to the baggage, so the remaining time was theirs. To be sure, they had been altogeth- er undisturhed for half the morning, but all that time was not so precious as the 15 minutes still left. “Major, it is needless to say I shall miss you, be the time of our separation long or short.”’ “Don’t speak of it, colonel ; we should not become unmanned at a moment like this.” “And, major, our little office, our habi- tation for 20 years, and the tree, and the game of checkers—you don’t know how— how I shall miss them. Mere trifles I know, but—but somehow they seem to have taken hold upon me ; they have be- come part of me, or I have become part of them, I don’t know which.”’ ‘‘Yes, colonel, this leaving of people and places is a terrible thing; but in this case we may look forward to meeting again. Of course the place will be different, but I suppose that can’t be helped.” The two friends had strolled a short dis- tance from the station, and at this moment the bell warned them to return. They hastened back. At the steps of the rear platform they stopped and faced each other. They stood there a moment and then fell into each other’s arms. It was the first time, but how they wept. Sobs shook ‘their frames as these two withered old men at last comprehended what it meant actual- ly to part from each other. They were really not two, they had grown into one. To divide them would be death to both, and they now understood it. * ‘All aboard !’ But it was not heeded. ‘All aboard, there !”’ But the train moved off without the colo- nel. was silently decided between them, during that last embrace, that he should not go. They smiled as the cars dis®ppeared. Both were very pale. The colonel tottered ; the strain bad been too great ; he was ill. He was taken to their room and went to bed. The major telegraphed to St. Louis that the colonel was sick and that it was need- less to expect him. He also sent word along the line to have the baggage returned. He then went back to nurse the colonel He nursed him two days and then Death claimed his own. The funeral was well attended. The camp of veteruns turned out, the ‘‘Dead March’’ was played, the service read, the coflin was covered with earth. The major went through it all. He saw the last clod fall and then turned away At the corner he left the carriage and went’ alone to the office. He stopped and looked up at the tree. It seemed to share his grief. He laid his hand upon its rough bark in silent caress. He opened the door and stood for a moment on the threshold gazing within. He sighed, ‘‘Oh, it is des- olate, desolate’’ he murmured, and then took a step forward and fell. And there he lay when they found him, face down- ward, dead.—Godey’s Magazine. Bruce and the Spider. The Pretty Romance of the Scotch Warrior Only a Fable. Another cherished delusion is gone. Ever since Robert Bruce became a character in historical literature, we have heard and be- lieved the story of the spider, whose per- sistent industry before his eyes gave him fresh courage to renew the struggle for liberty against the English foe. For gen- erations that spider has gone spinning through the imagination until the threads of the tale became as firmly fixed in our minds as ever Robert Bruce was upon his throne. The incident has been one of the stock themes in addresses to school child- ren for nigh a century. School histories have pictured it as one of the great things in their somewhat hazy records of medieval Scotland. William Tell and the apple might be nothing but a sun myth, but we feel we could cling to Bruce and the spider ; there was something human and likely about that, while the exploit of shooting an ap- ple from a boy’s head with a cross bow was a little uncanny. It seems, however, that our faith is again to be flouted and once more the finger of scorn points us out as a credulous folk, easily pleased with an old wifes’ tale. : A new life of Robert Bruce is about to be published, written by one of those pesti- lent fellows whose thirst for realism is suf- ficient to wreck all that is romantic in twenty literatures if he have the opportuni- ty. This historical Growler has discover- ed that there is no foundation for the story of Bruce and the spider, that the plucky fellow never watched the little insect tri- umph over obstacles, was never encouraged thereby to fresh efforts against his foes, and that really the only fact in the whole business was the fighting, but that is so remote and so common that no one is in- terested. Starving on the Street. A Young Man Falls in Chester from Exhaustion. David Rins, 19 years old, of New York, who was walking to that city fell on the street of Chester Saturday night from ex- haustion, due to the want of something to eat. Rins and a companion have been on the road looking for work. They had walked from Philadelphia to Wilmington and were on the return trip, having had nothing to eat during the past forty-eight hours. Rins was taken to Ches- ter hospital. = ——While hauling bay, Thursday, Da- vid Miller met with an accident at the Waulthour crossing at Manor. He was hauling with a three horse team, when the lead horse frightened at a passing train and wheeled upsetting the load, Mr. Miller, who was on top of the load, was badly in- jured about the face and back, as the en- tire load fell upon him. Easily First. Kentucky is the first state in the Union for raising hemp and also for raising things with hemp.—Chicago Zimes-Herald. Not a word had been spoken, hut it’ pg Latin. yi [FF i gino SUA Playing Ghost Made a Maniac. The Victim of a Practical Joke Has Become In- sane—His Father Suing the Joker for $15,000 Damages. / A court in Towa will decide soon whether a practical joker can be muleted in heavy damages. A little more than a year ago Thomas Ready, Ralph Reynolds and other young men aged from 18 to 24 years, residing in the southeast part of Calhoun county, Iowa, were assembled, and were talking after the manner of young men. The conversation turned upon the subject of ghosts, and Reynolds is said to have cxpressed him- self in a very positive terins as having no fear whatever of spooks. It appears that Ready and others were skeptical upon this point, and determined to test Reynolds. near a bridge known to them all; that his ghost stalked about the bridge every night, frightening passersby and terrifying the neighborhood. Another proposed that they go that night and investigate the matter and incidentally determine whether or not there was any such thing as a ghost. Rey- nolds readily agreed to this suggestion and the boys made preparations for the expe- dition. In the meantime, itis alleged, the others, of the party, without the knowledge of Reynolds, arranged with oue of their num- ber to go ahead secrete himself in a sheet. ‘When the crowd came up Reynolds was to be permitted to lead, and the alleged ghost was to suddenly appear in as spiritualistic a manner as possible, with a view of ascer- taining whether or not Reynolds was ghost proof. The boys started for the bridge, Reynolds leading, and at the agreed time the man clothed in a sheet appeared, wail- ing and screeching, walking rapidly in the direction of Reynolds. Reynolds stood his ground for a moment, and then broke and fled in the direction of his home. When his companions saw how terribly frightened he was they called to him to come back, but he only ran the faster. So thoroughly was he beside himself with fear that his reason appears to have given way to a physical nervousness almost be- yond belief. Reynolds ran six miles to his home, and fell upon the threshold of his father’s house insensible. He was placed in hed, and for six weeks hovered between life and death. Finally, however, from a physical view, he ap- peared to regain his former health, but his reason was gone. He labored under the halluncination that some one was after him, and no amount of explanation or persua- sion on the part of his parents was able to dispel the delusion. After a time Rey- nolds became so violent that he was sent to the insane asylum. After several months he was sent home as cured, but within a few days the old delusion seized him, and he was again sent'to the asylum, where he isat the present time. The father of the young man has brought suit for $15,000 .against Thomas Ready, who it is alleged, was one of the prime movers in the plot. Ready is the son of a wealthy farmer, and it is said that a judg- ment against him would be collectible.— Chicago Record. The Bubonic Plague. The plague which has been raging for six months in Bombay, and to some extent at other places in India, is conceded to be ‘‘the true plague.’”’ In its general charac- ter it is identical with ‘‘the black death,” which in the fourteenth century destroyed, it is said, 100,000 lives in London, the lives of seven eights of the population of England and 25,000°000 persons, or one- fourth of the population of Europe, But sanitary science is supposed to have mitigat- ed its virulence or lessened its opportuni- ties in Bombay, with 750,000 inhabitants, the mortality is kept down to about 1,000 per week. Calcutta, with a million in- habitants, owing to efficient sanitation, is substantially free from the plagues. At the first outbreak in the past year nearly every case was fatal. Up to the third week of November 830 persons had been attacked, and of these 517 died. Its victims are al- most uniformingly very poor and ill fed natives. The English seldom or never take the disease. The steps taken to purify the cities of India, in order to protect them, consist chiefly in cleansing them by a lib- eral use of water. As in fighting the fam- ine, so in fighting the plague, Hindoos are indebted to the arts and sciences of Europe. But for the foreign gov- ernment, with its railroads and ad- vanced ideas, the mortality of India would during the present affliction of fam- ine and plague be increased doubtless by many millions. The plague isa grandu- lar fever, attended with a swélling of the groin. It seems to he unknown whether it is due to a microbe or to insanitary condi- tions. It ravaged Hong Kong a few years ago, destroying many thousands there. It is epidemic in China and the Euphrates valley, just as cholera has its home in the delta of the Ganges. London suffered from it in 1665 and again in 1720. During the present century Asia has been the chief scene of its activity. In 1830 at Bagdad the death rate from it was 3,000 a day, and on April 51 of that year as many as 30,- 000 dead bodies were counted there. It appeared again on the Euphrates in 1867, 1873 and 1877. Its ravages in China have been enormous; but little was known in Europe of the extent of the losses it caused. — From the Baltimore Sun. * About two weeks ago a Hungarian was killed on the railroad near Portage, Cambria county. On his person was found. 65 cents in money, but no papers that would identify him. Preparations were being made to have his remains interred at the cost of the county, says the Gallitzin Times, when a brother turned up and said he would give the body burial, and the body was interred by him. About a week after he came back and said that he had received a letter written by his brother before his death, and that the letter stated that in an inside pocket on the person of the dead man was $30 in money. He got permission to disin- ter the body, and, sure enough, in a pock- et in the inside of his shirt four $20 bills were found, This makesit look as if death was contemplated, and was likely one of suicide. Cat a Big Tree. The Raftsmans Journal says, a tree re- cently cut on the timber job of A. B. Shaw on Trout Run, measured 80 feet in length, 5 feet across the butt and 28 inches across the top, where it was broken in the fall or it would have reached 100 feet in length. ——Chicago has taken active measures to put an end to the habit of spitting in pub- lic places. About 5,000 notices have been printed and posted by the Board of Health and the offender who dares to expectorate in the street cars or waiting rooms, will he given a lesson in manners. One of the boys introduced a story to the | effect that a man had been killed at or | 1 | | Mexico Under Diaz. Perhaps the two things which most im- pressed me in this fairly thorough review of Mexico were the fever of municipal im- provement and the sheer epidemic of pub- lic schools. There are but logical features of the Diaz administration ; probably no more remarkable than the other methods of the digestion which has assimilated so chaotic a meal, but less familiar, since they are but now ripening to the harvest. Peace had first to be secured ; and that cannot be had until it is no longer possible for rebels to combine and drill by the month before the government even hears of it. Com- merce comes after railroads and harbors, and political reform after commerce. And only now is the country ripe for the other development which has loomed logical but late in the statesmanship of a decade. veneral Diaz came up by a revolution ; and that means debt as well as inheritances not of his choosing. There were accidental allies to be considered, and hold-overs who could not be all at once swept away—for stability is the figst need and the first duty of any governmelit. But both these facts are now practically eliminated. Diaz has outlived nearly all his associates ; and in one of the most extraordinary games of chess ever played in statecraft he has shifted, cornered, or jumped the hold-over impossibles. There is left to-day in Mexi- co not one important figure that could by any reasonable probability set face against the government, nok one that is to its ser- ious present discredit, _ The long era of dis- honest officials, little’ and big, is past. There are no more brigand governors ; no more customs collectors wanted to ‘‘fix the accounts to suit themselves’’—as a Presi- dent once told a friend of mine to do. There is probably no other country in the New World whose whole public service is to-day so scrupulously clean; and this large assertion is made neither carelessly nor ignorantly. One has not to remember long to a time when even the presidency of Mexico was a den of robbery ; nor half so far to thievish governors and petty officials. But the Diaz administration has never had a stain ; and it has kept up its steady pres- sure until now not a state in the republic is spotted as to its government. Even to one as familiar with the swift development of parts of our West as with the more conservative growth of our East, it is surprising to watch the gait of almost every Mexican city in municipal improve- ments. Modern water works to replace the fine old Spanish acqueducts ; modern sew- erage to replace the street sinks of centu- ries ; modern lighting, modern transit, modern health departments ; public build- ings better than our average towns of the like population think they can afford ; splendid prisons, markets, hospitals, asyl- ums, training-schools—these are some of the things the “‘despotism’’ of Diaz is plant- ing through the length and breadth of the country. As for schools, it sometimes made me smile, but oftener turned my eyes moist, to note the perfect mania to have them—and to have them of the best. Every state capital has its {ree public “model schools,” on which it lavishes a wealth of love and money ; and the state earnestly follows itslead. There is now in Mexico no hamlet of one hundred Indians, I believe, which has not its free public school. This summer (1893) has seen a radical change. Hitherto the schools of the republic had been in charge of the munici- palities, the federal government aiding in their support with about a $1,000,000 a year. In July the central government took direct charge of every public school in Mexico. This is to secure homogeneity in the system. For the men and women now in charge of the schools of Mexico, I must admit that I have never met a more faith- ful and enthusiastic corps ; and they are on the average, very fairly fitted for their work. In every state there are normal schools, generously endowed by the govern- | ment, for the fit training of these teachers ; and the attendance is encouragingly large. There are also countless industrial schools, art schools, professional schools, and the like, not to mention the host of private schools, of which some are entirely admira- ble. The teaching of religion in public schools is absolutely prohibited. ‘‘That,”’ President Diaz said to me, is for the fami- ly to do.” The attitude of Mexico on-this point is curious. Catholics have far less rope in Catholic Mexico than in the Protestant United States. Church processions are impossible —even a priest dare not walk the streets in his churchly garments. —From ‘‘The Awak- ening of a Nation,”’ by Charles F. Lummis, in Harper's for February. Woman's Superiority. The Central Presbyterian church has set a proper example by the election of three competent women of the congregation on the board of trustees. As it is the duty of the trustees to see that the funds of the church are kept sufficient for its support and as the women are the mainstay in a fi- nancial way, the propriety of their being on the board of trustees is unquestionable. What a woman can do better than a man ‘can do, and the reverse, ought not to be a very deep problem.—Meadville Ttibune. ——There is some danger that Speaker Reed is turning Democrat on the tariff question and is having a great deal to do with the preparation of the coming tariff bill. He opposes the extravagant claims of the McKinleyites and insists that as the troubles of the country come from a lack of revenue in the new bill greater attention should be paid .o getting revenue than granting protection. He does not favor the McKinley idea of a tariff for protection, with incidental revenue, but rather the Democratic policy of a tariff for revenue, with the assured incident of protection by revenue rates. Lumber Report. # The annual lumber report of the Gazette and Bulletin shows that there was shipped from Williamsport 195,270,000 feet of saw- ed lumber, 101,100,000 being carried by the Philadelphia & Erie railroad and 94,- 085,000 by the Philadelphia & Reading. There were rafted out of the boom 175,- 483.428 feet, board measure, 154,261,119 being hemlock and the balance pine and hard wood. Hil Gets the Gold Cake. ALBANY, N. Y., January 18.—The dem- ocratic members of the legislature met in caucus to-night and gave David B. Hill the empty honor of a nomination for the office of United States senator, and nominated Henry P. O'Neill, of New York, for the office of regent of the university. 5 Forty-one votes were cast, of which Hill received thirty-six. Three senators and two assemblymen bolted the caucus. Mills to Close Down. Notice has been given to the employes of the Illinois Steel company of Milwaukee, Wis., that all the mills will close next Monday. Thisannouncement affects about 600 men. $ | Si LT — el Lc. ote FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN" Two women attorneys, Catharine H. Pier, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and Alice A. Minick, of Lincoln, Nebraska, were ad- gnitted to practice in the United States supreme court at Washington, D. C., on Monday last. The motions for their ad- mission were made by two ladies who had previously attained the privilege. The fichu is still retaining its hold on the favor of womankind and will be found a valuable adjunt to give a dressy touch to your dark gown for afternoon. The shops are showing some very pretty ones and some very elaborate ones, but the simpler ones can be manufactured at home for a comparatively small cost. Sleeves protest in their indefinable ugli- ness against their diminished size. They wrinkle crossly all the length of the shrunk- en arm, and they stick out like obstinate elbows at the top. These meaningless lit- tle tops ! They are in butterfly form. They are like the puckers a little girl gets her first doll’sdress into with her unskillful hands, and, in short, they are like every- thing ungraceful and ugly. But they are the transition between the overlarge sleeve of not long ago and the jersey tight one now coming to us. These jersey sleeves are merciless to the thin woman, while she who has fine arms rejoiceth and is exceed- ing glad. Forehints of spring and summer are numerous enough. As for the shirt waist —that useful garment, whose very useful- ness is its excuse for being, it will again, say the fashion prophets, take front rank in summer modes. It has, however, been much modified since its first appearance, and is altogether as trim and chic a little shirt as the most fastidious maiden could desire. The bishop sleeves, which were the marked characteristic last season, will no longer be worn. Instead, the new ones will fit loosely to the arm and be fulled in at the armholes. Yokes pointed or round will be fashionable again, but, as hereto- fore, will be only on the back, not the front, of the waist, and there will not be so much fullness in front and more slope at the side seams ; so that the garment will be much trimmer and neater than that of last season. The band at the neck will be finished so that the detachable collars can be worn, and the collars themselves will not be so wide nor exaggerated. The ma- terials will be legion. The newest are the pretty Madras linens, the cool and service- able India silks in Persian designs, and linens in solid colors in the fashionable shades of green, violet and red. White bids fair to be the favorite color and the patterns show an infinite variety of pretty designs. Pure white linen of a heavy quality is one of the most stylish materials for a shirt waist, and worn with a white duck skirt. a white belt and a set of studs matching the necktie in color is as chic a morning costume as any women could desire. Slowly, but surely, the tendency toward trimmings of all kinds on dress skirts is developing. Recent importations show silk gowns ruffled from the bottom to the waist. Skirts grow narrower and nar- rower, a fashionable modiste tells me, that by summer our skirts will have no stiffen- ing any where. The collar is a conspicuous feature in dress this season, and there seems no limit to the variety which is applied to neck- wear. Bows of ribbon continue to be worn at the back of the neck, and the flaring collar of battlement shaped pieces, rounded tabs and points of bright velvet with a frill of lace inside is one of the prime fa- vorites. The medici collar and all sorts of devices that give a soft, fluffy effect around the neck are also in favor. Knife plaited frills of colored taffeta silk, beginning just in front of the ears and extending across the back, are very becoming with the added frill of lace, and really the special charm of this collar fad is that any decoration which is becoming is admissible. All sorts of fancy stocks in light, delicate colors and pretty combinations of lace, chiffon and feathers are employed. Miss Lucy E. Andrews, a graduate of the university of Michigan, and for six years an instructor in Wellesley College, is now devoting herself to the work of extending the knowledge of scientific cookery. Nothing keeps the hands in such good order as rubbing a little drop of glycerine and water into them after washing. This is especially necessary in winter, and for those who have to do much house- work. Nurses who have frequently to use carbolic acid are very apt” to have rough hands ; a little glycerine will keep them in good order. If the hands have been much neglected and the skin is chapped, the gly- cerine may cause a little smarting ; this shows the healing property of the glycerine is at work. Its use should be persisted in, and in a few days the hands will be quite smooth. When glycerine is rubbed in, the hands should be rubbed dry with a soft towel. Glycerine should always be di- luted with a little water before being ap- plied to the skin. Glycerine and rose- water is a delightful ‘mixture for softening and perfuming the hands, and for curing chapped lips. The hair is so universally curled, waved and braided in these days, and women feel it so necessary to be constantly ready to see and be seen, that their tresses seldom have a breathing time, asit were, except during the brushing process. It is, asa matter of fact, very much more beneficial to the hair if it is allowed to hang loose oe- casionally so that light and air may pene- trete it. Moreover, a sun bath now and then stimulates its growth and brightens its color. A change of style in its arrange- ment, by which the weight and heat of it are shifted to a new place, is also desirable now and then. Women who have a neu- ralgic tendency will find the risk of wash- ing the hair much diminished if alcohol is used in the water instead of soap or am- monia. The alcohol is quite as cleansing, prevents chilliness and causes the hair to dry far more quickly. While the holly is still fresh in our homes, and even when the Storm King is holding court, our merchants must expose side by side with cold-defying furs fabrics of almost gauze-like texture for gowns for midsummer wear. The custom once start- ed, the up-to-date woman expects with the advent of the new year an assortment of new cotton materials from which to select her warm-weather frocks. And so the most popular department is that devoted to the advance guard of summer materials. Undoubtedly the most popular fabric will be a silk-warp ‘‘barege,’’ the pride and de- light of our grandmothers’ summer ward- robe. We all know that the texture is that of a closely-woven Brussels net, and the beauty of the old-time material has not been destroyed by modern.designs.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers