Tate
JIGRETE
1897.
emogeatic
Bellefonte, Pa., Feb. 19,
CITY AND COUNTRY.
I'd ruther lay out here among the trees,
With the singin birds and the bum’l bees,
A-knowin that I ean do as I please,
Than to live what folks call a life of ease
Up tharin the city,
For I really don’t 'xactly understan
Where the comfort is fer any man
In walkin hot bricks and usin a fan
An enjoyin himself as he says he can
Up thar in the city.
It's kinder lonesome, mehba you'll say,
A-living out here day after day
In this kinder easy, careless way,
But an hour out here is better'n a day
Up thar in the eity.
As fer that, jus’ look at the flogers aroun,
Agfeepin their heads up all over the groun,
An the fruit a-bendin the trees way down.
You don’t find such things as these in town,
Or, rather, in the city.
As I said afore, such things as these—
The flowers, the birds an the bum’l bees
An a-livin out here among the trees,
Where you can take your case and do as you
please— .
Makes it better'n the city.
Now, all the talk don’t mount to snuff
’Bout this kinder life a-being rough,
An I’m sure it's plenty good enough.
An ’tween you and me tain’t half as tough
As livin in the city.
—James Whitcomb Riley.
THE WHISPERING WIND.
On three sides of the little house the dry
corn stalks stood close to the eaves ; on the
fourth was an open space, by courtesy
titled ‘‘the yard.” It was but a bare patch
of black earth, so dry that it was cracked
and fissured in a geometrical design. The
low stable was opposite the house, and he-
tween them stood a farm wagon and a
cultivator, under which a few chickens
huddled, trying to find shelter from the
sweep of the wind. Occasionally a hen
gave an angry cluck as a gust rufiled her
feathers. As the wind rushed through the
dry stalks it made a sibilant whisper, now
and then dying away, only to again rise to
| looking at his watch.
a shrill crescendo.
A woman stood in the door of the house,
looking at a distant tendril of smoke that
trailed in the sky—the smoke of the east-
bound passenger train. She was young
and rather pretty. but her red hair was
twisted into a hard, defiant little knot, her
mouth drooped: at the corners, and her eyes
were heavy and brooding. She listened to
the harsh creaking of the corn, and her
face grew set and intent ; she was always
trying to catch the meaning of the wind’s
whisper. It seemed as if she would go
mad, living in the house, day after day,
with the wind always rushing through the
corn-staiks. She wished that it was spring
and the land was plowed—then she could
at least see the main road and the *‘pass-
ing.”” But the long winter was between.
What was the use of working from morn-
ing till ‘night for a bare existence? It
were better to be resting under the ground.
Then the wind whispered : “Go back,
go back, Go back to a country where there
are neighbors and trees back where there
are door yards and grass and flowers, where
a woman is more than a drudge. Go back,
go back,’ the wind insisted.
She thought now that it must have been
telling her this for the past four years. Yet
she remembered that when she had come a
bride to this Kansas farm she had Jaughed
and told Rick that the wind said : “We're
here, we're here, that’s clear, that’s clear.”
It seemed a long time since she had been
able to laugh at the horrible wind and dis-
regard its voice.
‘Rick had no right to bring me to such
a place’ she though, forgetting how will-
ingly she had come. *‘He will be late to-
night but I will make up the fire and have
the supper ready.” Asshe turned to £20
in she glanced down the wagon track that
led out through the corn to the main road.
She could see the shiny top of a buggy and
in another moment a sorrel horse driven by
a man in a light overcoat. Probably the
real estate agent coming te see Rick about
the mortgage.
The man drove into the yard, tied his
horse to the wheel of the wagon and came
toward the house. “Don’t you know me,
Kate?’ he called loudly, to be heard
above the wind.
“Why, George Gilbert, is it you?’ she
exclaimed. She held out her hand. “How
did you ever happen to get here ? Come
right into the house. Rick’s gone to town
for coal.”
The man followed her into the main
room of the house which served the double
purpose of parlor and kitchen. In one
corner stood the stove, above it a long shelf
covered with neatly scalloped papers on
which stood the lamps and tinware. A
safe with peforated tin doors was in another
corner. A bit of ingrain carpet, a rocking
chair and a round table ‘with a red cover
made the parlor. On the window ledge
were two spindling geraniums planted in
tin cans ; on the wall hung some crayons,
framed in black waluut and having Kate’s
initials done- in straggling letters in the
lower corners. These had come to have
almost the sacredness of relics, reminding
her as they did of the easy, pleasant life of
her girlhood.
‘You see, I'm traveling for a grocery
house,” the man said, sitting down, ‘“‘and
I make Houstan now, and your folks said
I must be sure and come out to see you.
So when I got through with Bailey &
Donohue I went to the livery, gota rig
and here I am. Being a cousin I took the
liberty to drop down without sending word
—can only stay an hour or two, anyway.
How are you doing ?”’
“Doing I” Kate cried, scornfully look- |
ing around the room. “Can’t you see? Mak- |
ing just enough to keep soul and body to- ;
gether—corn 14 cents, and we're nine miles |
from market.”
“Why don’t you come back home 27? he
asked, leaning forward in his chair and
noticing how much Kate had aged since
she cance west. 5
“Rick never seems to think of it ; be-
sides, I don’t think we've got uoney |
enough to take one of us, let alone hoth.
I just long to go—sometimes it seems like
Pd go wild staying here A man can get
along better’n a woman.”
“Yes, that’ so,”’ George assented. He
looked very prosperous, sitting there in his
dark business suit, his shining linen and
new gloves. Her brown calico seemed to
grow older and limper and she felt as if she
belonged to another world than this. !
He told her of their kinsfolk, of the |
marriages and deaths in the old neighbor-
hood, who had secld and moved away and
who had come in their places. How she
longed to go hack tothe common-place,
prosperous life she had left !
He went to the door. “Not much of an |
outlook, is it 2”? Ile wheeled and gave her |
ty
a searching regard. “Kate, I’ve been
thinking that if you really want to go
back home that I can lend you enough to
do it and you can pay back when you
please. I don’t want to interfere between
husband and wife, but I judge that you
and Rick haven’t been getting along first
rate by what you said.”
“We haven’t had any open quarrels,”
she answered, ‘but I don’t think he had
any right to bring me out to.such a Ged-
forsaken country as this. I don’t think,
either, that I'd do wrong to leave him.
I've never left my folks know how things
were going, and last spring when ma talked
about coming out I just prayed she wouldn’t
though I wanted awful to sce her, too—I
was ashamed for her to see how we lived.”
“If you intend to go with me, you'd bet-
ter make up your mind,”’ the man said,
“You would not
want to meet Rick. Can we go a road that
we won’t meet him ?”?
Kate nodded. ‘‘Yes—the back road—
it’s rough, but we could take dt.”
‘‘Are you coming ?”’ he asked.
She stood a moment straightening the
cover on the table. ‘‘Yes, I'll go,” she
said decisively. “There arc a few things
I must take, but I can be ready in half an
hour.”
She went into the other room of the
house and knelt at a trunk whose cush-
ioned top and frilled skirt tried to beguile
the beholder into the belief thatit wasa
divan. Opening the lid, she lifted out
folded garments, laying them into neat
piles on the floor. Then she turned over
the articles in the tray.” She took some
photograhps in her lap and looked them
over. There was a picture of Rick’s Uncle
Ben—how they had laughed at his fierce
frown, knowing so well that he was hen-
pecked ; then there was Mary Haines, her
bridesmzid, and cousin Lou and Emery’s
twins. A card slipped from her lap to the
floor and lay face downward. She picked
it up. It was a photograph of himself that
Rick had given her before they were mar-
ried. It had been taken by a wandering
artist and he was an awkward figure, clad
in a queerly made suit, holding his hat
tight in his hand, but his steadfast young
eyes were looking straight into hers. She
remembered the day he had given it to her
and how she had praised it, meanwhile
laughing at the presentation of Uncle Ben,
though they were the work of the same
“artist.” She had tucked Rick's pictuge
in at the edge of the mirror and one night
Mary Haines had discovered it. How
Mary teased her until she confessed that
they were to be married in the spring and
to go to Kansas.
“It's 4:30,77 George called.
She dropped the photographs into the
trunk and closed the lid with a crash. She
aid her hat and cloak on the bed. ‘I’m
glad I baked the bread aud dried apples
this morning,” she thought, ‘‘men are so | J }
= Ct {go right through burglar safes and time
helpless about housework. I must leave
some word of where I’m gone. I guess he
has tried to be good to me, but he has no
right to keep me here.”’
She found a sheet of the thin blue-lined
paper on which she had so often written to
“her folks.” She sat down on the bed,
with the,ink bottle on a chair near by.
“Dear Rick,” she wrote, then hastily
crossed it out and began ‘‘Rick.’’ Then
she was motionless for a time, her eves
fixed on the ceiling. At last she wrote :
“George Gilbert is here and is going to
lend me money to go home on. I cannot
stand it here any longer. I hope you will
forgive me, for I know you have tried to be
good to me and n=
She threw down her pen and ran into the
kitchen. George stood in the doorway,
smoking and looking down the road.
“Ready ?”’ he asked without turning.
‘Oh, I can’t go I” she cried huskily. “I
can’t go-—he has done his best. It wculd
be wicked when he has worked so hard—
poor Rick. She sat down and covered her
face with her hands.
“All right,”” George answered. “I was
willing to take you, but if you think you’d
better not, that’s all right. I don’t want
to interfere, as I said before.”’
“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” she
sobbed, ‘‘but it seems like the wind has
made me half crazy. Ill stay, though,
now, if it kills me.”
“Well, I guess I'd better be driving
back to town,” her cousin said. “If I
could help you and by——’’ He fumbled
in his pocket and she heard the rattle of
loose change.
“No, George. There is only one thing
you can do for me. Promise that you will
never say a word about this to any living
soul. Tell ma that you found me well and
happy—be sure you remember—well and
happy.”
“All right ; I'll be mum as an oyster,”’
heanswered. He was puzzled but rather
relieved to find that she was not going
with him. He bid her good-by and drove
out into the wheel track.
She watched him out of sight, then she
went into the houscand laid her clothing
back in the trunk. Her letter lay on the
floor. She picked it up and threw it into
the fire, as if it had been something un-
clean. She watched it blaze and turn to a
white ghost, which she crumbled with the
poker. When the house had taken on its
ordinary look she put the tea kettle on the
stove and set the table for supper. As she
cut one of her pies she smiled—she was to
eat them after all.
The wind had gone with the sun, and it
was dusk when she heard the sound of
wheels. She took the lantern from the high
shelf, lit it and set out to the barn. ‘Is
that you, Rick ?”’ she called.
‘“Yes—been expecting me long 2” came
from the other side of the team.
“Cousin George has been here ; he
couldn’t wait for you, but he left his re-
gards,”’ she said.
‘Yes, I met him the other side of Mark-
er’s. We stopped to talk a little while 7
said he didn’t have time to stay to supper
or all night.”
Kate held the lantern while her husband
| unhitehed and fed his horses, then they
walked together to the house. Through
the open door a block of light fell on the
ground and within the red table cloth and
white dishes shone pleasant and cheerful.
“Ive got good news, sis,”’ Rick said
| across the table, as he helped himself to a
third cut of pie. ‘Old man Shultz wants
| to buy this farm ; says he don’t like the
way my land gouges out the corner of his
| section. Ie will take up the mortgage and
give me $600 clear. It ain’t much, but we
can go back home and begin over again.
Begin over again in a country where a man
gets a decent living for his sweat and
labor.”
Kate laid her head on the table and be-
gan to cry.
“Why, sis, ain’t you tickled 2’? he asked.
“I did it because I thought this was no
place for you.”
“I am awful pleased,’ she answered,
“but Iwas so tiretl and I thought mebbe
you didn’t care.”
In the night the wind came up and set
| the corn stalks creaking and rustling with
a thousand whispers, but they said to
Kate :
“Years fly, years fly—good-by, good-
by.” Now the whisper of the wind was
‘for any newspaper to hire him.
sweet to her as she lay listening : ‘‘Years
fly ; years fly-—good-by, good-by.”’-—Chi-
cago News.
The Temple of the Mysteries.
The Theosophists are going to build a
Temple of the Mysteries out at San Diego,
Cal., wherein is to be started a school for
teaching, to those Who are qualified for the
reception of such knowledge, all the occult
learning of the ancients and of the orient.
They are to be taught the secret of all the
mysteries of which we hear so much and
see so little, and to rendered competent to
perform all of the miracles worked by those
mysterious beings, the adepts, who have
strange to say, been exercising their pow-
ers for ages without attracting much atten-
tion outside of their fastnesses in the depths
of Asia. That there has at length heen
started a movement to bring these myster-
ies out from their hiding and to confer the
wonder-working powers of the adepts upon
some of the people, at least, of this busy
nation is pleasing as well as important in-
formation.
o ~
For these adepts are wonderful beings,
indeed, according to the accounts we have
of them. They can speak all languages
without ever having studied them ; they
can read thoughts and divine intentions ;
through their astral bodies they can trans-
port themselves, in a moment, to any part
of the world or universe and see what is go-
ing on. At this moment itis likely that
ong of them, who lives thousands of miles
away on the lofty plains of Thibet, is
watching the writing of this article, and
with a keenness of sight surpassing the
power of the X-rays looks into the mind of
the writer and knows, better than he, what
will be said. They can see what is hidden
in the most secret places ; they can read
the contents of any document, however
carefully guarded, and they can even trans-
port light bodily substances instantly from
one part of the earth to the other. The
writer has never seen this done, but this is
what these who claim to know about them
assert, and they tell us that these powers
may he acquired in a greater or lesser de-
arce hy others.
#
This being the case, it can be seen that
the founding of this institution on the Pa-
cific coast is a matter of great importance.
One of the strangest things heretofore in
connection with these wonderful beings is
that they have apparently made no use of
their marvelous powers. It is presumed
that the graduates of the new California in-
stitution will not be so modest. The
thought at once occurs, what admirabic
newspaper men they would make. Using
their astral bodies, one of them could cover
the whole city, without expense to
the office, and he could positively find out
everything that was going on, for he could
locks after information, and could even tell
when anybody was thinking about any-
thing that was worth an item. He could
not only do this for the city, but for the
country and even the world, and he could
transmit his news without any expense for
telegraph tolls.” But fabulous as would
be the salary that such a reporter could
command, it would probably he impossible
Think
what possibilities there would he for him
on playing ‘“‘draw’’ or in doing business
with a faro bank by reason of his ability to
see through the backs of the cards. But
greater still would be his chances on Wall
street, since he would be on to every con-
templated move in the market. This is
but a hint of some of the phenomena which
we will behold when the Temple of the
Mysteries gets under way.
Tongue Like an Currycomb.
A Lion Could Kill a Man by One Lick with This
Grater.
The tongues of some animals are very
dangerous weapons. A lion could readily
kill a man by mereby licking him with his
tongue. i
The tougues of all the members of the
cat family are covered with curious recurv-
ing spines, formed of rough cartilage,
They are so small that there are hundreds
of them to the square inch. In the com-
mon domestic cat these spines are very
small, but are sufficiently well developed
to give the tongue a feeling of roughness.
Most people have noticed this curious grat-
er like appearance of the tongues of their
household pets without understanding its
significance. In the fiercest animals, suc
as the loon or tiger, these spines are very
well developed. They are frequently
found projecting up for an cighth of an
inch or more, with very sharp points or
edges.
While the mouth is relaxed the tongue
is soft and smooth, but when the animal is
excited to the fighting pitch the spines be-
come rigid. The tongue at such times re-
sembles a fine steel currycomb. ,
No Hope for Spain.
Havana and all Cuba, generally, is of
the same opinion as the United States, that
the proposed Cuban ‘reforms’ will not
help to bring peace to the island and could
not form a basis of permancnt peace, if a
cessation of present hostilities could be se-
cured. The Associated Press has made care-
ful inquiry on these points, and finds even
the Spanish officers with no hope. It is
also made apparent that Weyler’s alleged.
“pacification” is a ridiculous creation of
his imagination. The province of Pinar
del Rio is as full of insurgents as ever, and
if possible, they are more active than they
were before Weyler’s visit. On this score
the Spanish officers in Havana are as much
discouraged as in regard to the proposed
reforms, and a number of them intend re-
turning to Spain, abandoning the field and
presumably carrying to the home govern-
ment their opinion that the struggle is
hopeless. It may hoped that Spain will
soon recognize the truth and abandon its
brutal policy of laying waste the island
and murdering the innceent non-combat-
ants.
Why lowa armors Prosper.
“If the farmers of Iowa are paying oft
their mortgages and putting money in bank
it is not because of the profits made in
rowing corn and wheat and oats,” said
Mr. 8. B. Newton of the Hawkeye State,
at the Ebbitt. ‘“Their improved lot with-
in the last decade is due to the fact that
they have been subordinating the produc-
tion of the cereals to the dairy. The Iowa
cow has proved of far more benefit as a rev-
enue raiser than 10-cent corn, and the
creamery has become firmly establi- ed as
one of the institutions of the Jand.
“In the county of Jones the farmers
have in bank deposits over $3,000,000, ac-
cording to the latest report of our State
dairy commissioner. Here is-an object les-
son to the agriculturists all over the Union,
for it goes that by proper management and
attention to the right things farmers can
become lenders of money instead of hor-
TOWers.
BE ——..
A Bit of Reminiscence—Centre County’s
Murderers and Their Executions.
History, if properly presented, is inter-
esting to most readers. Particularly is
this so when the facts dealt with have
made for the history of a locality with
which the readers are acquainted.
Hangings in Centre county have not been
so numerous that they can’t be counted
on the fingers of one hand, yet there have
been enough and not enough. Enough,
because it is not to the credit of any com-
munity to boast that debasing atmosphere
that makes murderers of men. Not enough,
because within the memory of the present
generation one murderer, who should have
been hanged, escaped from the county jail.
We refer to the notorious “Billy Wilson,” |
who shot Harry Waterhouse, Sept. 3rd, |
1890, and escaped from the county jail,
Wednesday morning, December 24th, 1890.
So perfect was his plan that the very earth
seemed to have swallowed him up.
The following communication enquires
about the particulus of the second murder
of which there is record in this county :
hie
INDIANA, Pa., Feb. 5, 1897.
P. Gray MEEK, Esq.,
Dear Sir:—Within the past two or three
weeks a communication appeared in the
Pittsburg Commercial Gazette in regard to
some lady of your county who is now 107
years of age. Among other things it stated
that she was at the county seat the day of
James Monks’ exceution for the murder of
some one, and it brought to mind my boy-
hood recollection of hearing of that murder
and also of hearing those older than myself
sing a sad and impressive song called ** Monks’
Confession.” I think the murdered man’s
name was Reuben Guild. On account of
Monks being somewhat known in this, In-
diana county the affair caused quite a sen-
sation here. It is for the above reasons that
I would ask you for some information through
your paper by way of reminiscence to he pub-
lished in some of the papers of this county.
Answers to the following questions will cover
the ground, and no doubt be interesting to
readers in your county as well as to many in
‘this county.
Whom did Monks murder, where, when,
what for. and what the provocation or mo-
tive? Give particulars. Where and wher
his trial and conviction and particulars if you
can?
he make any confession 2
If you remember the song Monks’ Confes-
sion,” and do you have it? If not might it
When and where his execution and ‘did | :
Sexecuiionzan { covered hy the coroner's jury.
not be possible for you to bring it forth to |
remembrance of some reader who might read {
this? If you could get itin this way from |
9
some one could you publish it in your paper?
Trusting that you may not regard this as
too presuming, coming from an entire strang-
er, and awaiting an early reply
Yours
INDIAN, PA,
the last previous to that of Iopkins, was
that of Jares Monks, which took place in
Belicfonte, on January 23rd, 1819, he hav-
ing heen eonvieted of the murder of Reuben
Guild, at the November term of court,
Judge Huston presiding. The Monks case
one and excited intense
interest throughout central and western
Pennsylvania. The offender was a ‘native
of Potter township, this county. In the
confession which he made after his convic-
tion he said that when he was returning to
his home on Marsh Creek, Howard town-
ship, on the evening of Sunday, November
16, 1317, hie met Guild, who was oa horse-
back, on a lonely part of the road, in what
is now a part of Clearfield county, travel-
ing from his home in New Jersey to the
West. The two men bid the time of day,
but after they had passed cach other, ac-
cording so- Monk's statement, an uncontrol-
able impulse to kill the stranger overtook
him, whereupon he turned around, raised
his gun and shot him through the body.
With a shriek the assassinated man fell
from his horse, said: ‘‘My friend, you have
killed me 1’ Seeing that he was still liv-
ing, Monks, who had a hatchet with him,
dispatched his victim by striking him in
the head with that implement. Ife then
concealed the body, after stripping it of its
clothing, even to the shoes which he found
too small to fit his feet. Ile then mounted
the dead man’s horse and, with his plunder,
continued his journey homie. As he was
under the influence of liquor when he com-
mitted the bloody deed, he was not in a
condition to thoroughly cover the evidence
of his crime. He dropped a song-beok be-
longing to Guild at the place where the
murder was committed, and this ecircum-
stance eventually led to his arrest on sus-
picion. Upon his arriving home and ex-
amining the spoils of his foul’erime he
found written in his vietim’s pocket-hook :
“Reuben Guild’s pocket-book. This pock-
et-book is my property now, but I know I
wont’ own it long.”’ Tn addition to the
horse and articles of clothing, the paltry
proceeds of this bloody murder were a
watch and a few dollars in money.
The execution of Monks, which was pub-
lic and made near the intersection of what
is now igh and Ridge streets—afterwards
known as Monks’ alley— attracted a large
crowd and was conducted by sheriff John
Mitchell. Probably with the object of im-
parting solemnity to the occasion, but which
must have had rather a comical appearance
as Wm. Armor, a celebrated fifer of that
period, played the dead march under the
gallows before the culprit was swung off,
Some time after the execution it wus re-
ported, and many people believed it, that
Monks, was seen alive, and for years he
was a celebrated
served @sa spook with which to frighten
children. His case furnished the subject
of much doguerel verse.
In the trial, which excited intense inter-
est, Biting, Bradford and Blaichaud repre-
sented the commonwealth, and Norris,
Buinside and Potter were Monks’ counsel.
Robert McGonigle, Anthony Klechner,
Ephraim Lamborn, John Johnston, Fred-
erick Schenck, Absolem Ligget, John Sher-
ick, William White, George Gramley,
Samuel Wilson, Ifenry Barnhart and Wm.
Johnston, were the ‘“‘twelve good and law-
ful men’ who composed the jury, all of
whom have long since been as dead as the
prisoner whom their verdict consigned to
the gallows. the last of them, Samuel Wil-
son, of Potter township, having died on
the 18th of September, 1850, at the age of
ninety years.
OTHER HANGINGS IN THE COUNTY.
The first was that of a negro named
Daniel Byers, which took place on the 13th
of December, 1802, very shortly after the |
formation of Centre county. Byers was
found guilty of murdering a mulatto named
James Barrows, who was in the employ of
John Dunlop, the offense having occurred
on the 15th of October, 1302.
that scarcely two months elapsed between
the offense and the punishment shows how
speedily justice was meted out to offenders
in those early days.
This murder took place in the neighbor-
hood of Bellefonte, near Dunlop's, after-
wards Valentine’s, iren works. James
Barrows, the vietim, was a free mulatto, a
wagoner of John Danlop, proprietor of the
iron works. It may be of interest to our
readers to learn that at that tine negro
slavery existed to some extent in Pennsyl-
vania, and that the murderer Daniel Byers,
or Black Dan, as he was called, was a slave
owned by a Mr. Smith, of this neighbor-
hood. A woman was at the bottom of this
murder. Barrows was married to a white
woman by whom he had five children. Be-
tween her and Byers an illicit attachment
sprung up, and about six weeks before the
murder occurred she left her husband on
account of a quarrel she had with him
about Byers. The latter then determined
to get Barrows out of the way on account
of this woman, and did not hesitate to tell
his associates that such was his intention,
The night on which the murder took place
arrows was engaged in bringing a load of
charcoal to the works. Byers, being ac-
auainted with his movements, waylaid him
about half a mile from the furnace and shot
him with a rifle while he was sitting on
one of the horses, the ball penctrating his
right breast aid coming out near his right
shoulder. When he fell the wagon wheels
passed over the length of his body, which
vas supposed tg have caused his death un-
til the bullet hole in his breast was dis-
Byers was tried before Judge James Rid-
dle, in Bellefonte, at the November term
of court, 1802. At his execution, on the
13th of the following month, which vas a
public one, as was the custom at that time,
a large concourse of people wis present, in-
| eluding many of the rough characters em-
ployed at the ivon works. In order to pre-
'serve order among this turbulent crowd a
The second exceution in thiscounty, and |
oy een
d of
Captain James Potter, was drawn up near
thé scaffold. When Byers was swung off
the rope broke and he fell to the ground
apparently unhurt. The crowd, lihoring
under the mistaken notion that in such a
case the prisoner was exonerated. from
further punishment, set up the shout *‘Dan
is free,” and, headed by two men named
MeSwords and MeCamant, made a move to
rescue him from the officers. Sheriff Dun-
can, however; was prompt in counteracting
this movement and struck McSwords a
heavy blow over the head with a loaded
riding-whip. According to an ancient
chronicler of this occurrence, ‘‘AleSwords
scratched his head and said : “Mr. Dun-
can, as you are a small man you may pass
on,” which was certainly a prudent con-
clusion for the boisterous and meddlesome
McSwords. Captain Potter’s company also
took a hand in restraining the would-he
rescuers. William Irvin, one of the troop,
leveled McCamant with a blow of his
sword, cutting his cap-rim through. The
disturbance being quicted, Wm. Petrikin
stepped up to the half-hung culprit and
said : ‘“‘Dan; you have always heen a good
boy ; go up now and be hung like a man.”
After this complimentary and encourag-
ing advice Dan’s head was again put
through the noose and he was hanged with-
out any further interruptions.
From our present point of view it is a
curious circumstance connected with Black
Dan’s trial, that, in accordance with the
law at that time, the jury in the verdict
that consigned him to the gallows fixed his
value as a slave at two hundred and four-
teen dollars.
Seely Hopkins was the third man to be
hanged in Centre county. Jealousy drove
him to the murder of his wife and mother-
in-law, Mrs. Wighaman, in Philipsburg,
Sunday morning, September 22nd, 1839.
Having failed in his attempt to kill him-
self he was brought to jail here and con-
victed at the November term. He was
hanged on Wednesday, Feb., 20th, 1390,
the rope having broken he had to be carried
back onto the gallows and swung off the
second time.
The fourth and last execution was that
of Alfred Andrews, found guilty of having
outraged and murdered Clara Price, on the
lonely mountain road leading from Snow
Shoe to Karthause,on Wednesday morning,
Nov. 25th, 1889. He was tried at the Jan-
uary term, 1890, and hanged on Wednes-
day, April 9th, 1890. His body was bur-
ied near the ‘Divide’ on the mountain
north of Milesburg.
company of horse, under the comman
The Monk’s hanging was probably the
most noted one ever made in the county.
At the time there were numberless rhymes
written about it and the confession and
execution became a regular hogy scare for
children about Bellefonte. There was a
phamphlet published containing all the ver-
sions of the crime and 2 good bit of the dog-
gerel written at the time, but unfortunate-
ly, none of them are in existence to-day.
Other murders have been committed in
Centre county, though the circumstances
have been such that the criminals have
either escaped hanging through their own
hands or lack of evidence to convict them
in the first degree. Two of the most recent
have been the notorious Woodward tragedy,
last year, in which William Ettlinger mur-
dered constabie James Barner then killed
himself, and Fietta Weaver's murderous
assault upon her aged father-in-law.
The fact
|
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN-
Mrs. Rebecca Mitchell, of Idaho Falls,
president of the Idaho Woman’s Christian
Temperance Union, has been elected chap-
lain of the State Legislature, an unusual
honor for a woman. She was largely in-
strumental in securing woman suffrage
for Idaho.
If there is one “right?” mao
whieh a woman is just a j
* than another:
1 demanding it
most certainly is an annyafholiday from ea-
tering for her family.// The large bulk
of housewives with husbands and children
0 on ordering three hundred and sixty-five
dinners per annum, year in aud year out.
There is no change for her from the eternal
joint, the everlasting salad, the same old
fishes, the stews and hashes, and inexpen-
sive puddings to which she has to impart
some appearance of novelty in order that
her lord may not grumble too much. This
he does under any circumstances, as a rule.
He wonders why this and that cannot be
served sometimes. Ile always finds dinner
ready, and therfore he thinks it the easiest
thing in the world to order it. If Mater-
familias complains that she is harassed to
death to know what to choose day after day,
he says. “Make a list and choose from it,
then yow’ll have practically nothing to do.’
This is, of course, quite regardless of the
fact that soups have to be used up, that
it may not be convenient to got something
else, and so on. It isthe routine, the utter
helpless, hopeless monotony of everyday
existence, that makes women grow old be-
fore their time. Men—work as they may
—do not realize what genuine drudgery is.
Actual toil is not the standard of mental
depression. Sameness dulls and deadens 3
the change of scene and people that are
part and parcel of a business man’s life keep
him keenly awake and it is only when he
spends Sunday“at home that he can form
the slightest estimate of what existence
means to his wife. Under these circum-
stances the necessity fora vacation from the
monotony of domestic drudgery is necessa-
ry as a mental stimulus and let us hope
that women thus burdened will insist upon
sueh relaxation.
If there was ever a time in the history of
dress when women might be content with
what they have, it is now; when fashion
has reached perfection in all that goes te
constitute graceful outline, harmonious col-
oring, becoming effect, and pretty contrasts.
The widely flaring skirt isa thing of the
past, and the present one is just full enough
to insure a pretty curve, while the new
sleeve is both comfortable and becoming,
since there is no limit to the variety of the
design and it ean be made tosuit each and
every figure. Three distinct styles of
skirt are prophesied for the coming season.
These are plain skirt, the skirt flounced te
the waist, and the skirt which is slightly
draped and moderately trimmed and cer-
tainly the various possible modifications of
three different models ought to furnish
something for every ene. The fullness of
the latest skirts is carried well to the back
and they are narrower and flatter at the
sides : consequently they hang better than
did the skirt cut completely on the hias or
in the cir ular form, which generally got
out of place after short service, and when
the material was heavy never hung well
even at first.
The possibilities of a black tailor gown
seem limitless. A single breasted coat and
and plain skirt can serve for many an oc-
casion ; can make a woman a neat and nob-
by figure on the street parade ; a quictly
gowned worshiper at Sunday devotions and
a resplendent creature at the dinner table.
The foundation is well laid in that the
gown is of excellent ladies cloth, made over
silk, the coat built over checked silk of a
thick variety. The curves are reliable and
the stitched seams satisfactory.
She is going shopping in the morning.
On goes the skirt, then a silk shirt waist of
red and black plaid silk, a white ‘‘turn-
over’ collar at the throat with white satin
ribbon passed around twice and tied ina
flat bow in front. Then goes on the coat,
buttoned up. A tiny black toque, a pair
of heavy walking gloves, if cold a heavy
ruche, or her furs about the throat. Could
any one look more stylish or be better
dressed for a shopping tour?
She lunches at home. oracceptsan invita-
tion, or meets a friend and they take a few
oysters, a clear soup and a salad at some
restaurant. She slips out of the coat and
looks fresh and bright in her stylish skirt
and nobby shirt waist. .
She has two teas to make. Off comes
the red shirt waist and its place is put on a
heavy satin one—white with a wide pur-
ple stripe, the front covered with yellow
lace, a purple satin belt and stock collar.
A pair of light cream gloves, and the same
toque, a pair of thinner shoes for the heavy
ones, if the walking is good. If she pins a
few violets or a hunch of clove pinks in
her buttonhole so much the prettier.
When she arrives at the house she can
unbntton her coat, throw it back and be
entirely well gowned for any affair, no mat-
ter how formal.
If friends are invited in for dinner, or
afterward the same costume will serve,
with the coat off. If she is going to the
theater, all that is needed is her cape—
even that can be of heavy black cloth
lined brilliantly—over the satin bodice with
the same skirt and a pair of white gloves.
When the days are warm she can wear
the coat open over a dainty cotton shirt
waist, or nobbier yet, a scarlet vest with
tiny black buttons and white chemisette,
with high collar and white pique Ascot tie.
This is to be quite,one of the favorite di-
versions of fashion for the Spring. Be
sure of only this—that the est fits well.
An ill fitting vest is a calamity !
None can ever claim that a black tailor
gown is a cheap affair. If made satisfac-
torily it cannot be. That is, as to the ac-
tual outlay o. money. But if it serves the
purpose of four gowns and lasts longer than
two, each costing half as much, then it is
economy in the final counting.
It is wise to cultivate cheerfulness as well
as tactfulness, If there were only a sure
and certain receipt for making ourselves
cheerful it would sell better than any cos-
metic ever put upon the market ; for a
cheerful face can never be unpleasant to
look upon.
How glad we shouid all be to tiy the
recipe ; to have the power of cheering
everybody up; to have the joy of seeing
everyone's face brighten the minute we
came in sight.
It would he such a satisfaction, too, te
be sure of a warm welcome wherever we
went ; for the cheerful person is always
given a warm greeting. It is only natural
to desire sunshine in the house.
‘The sight of you jist does me good,
sure,” I heard an old woman say one day,
to have one of these sunshiny people. “I'd
like to have you in a glass case, ma'am,
that T might look at ye and keep my heart
warm.’’
——=Subseribe for the WATCHMAN.