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
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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.