®
Bellefonte, Pa., March 26, 1897.
HELP THAT COMES TOO LATE.
Tis a wearisome world. this world of ours,
With its tangles small and great,
Its weeds that smother the spring flowers,
And its hapless strifes with fate ;
And the darkest day of its desolate days
Is the help that comes too late.
Ah! woe fr the word that is never said
Till the ear is too deaf to hear,
And woe for the lack of the fainting head,
Of the ringing shout of cheer;
Ah! woe for the laggard feet that tread
In the mournful wake of the bier.
What booteth help when the heart is namb ?
What booteth a broken spar
Of love thrown out when the lips are dumb
And life’s bark drifteth far,
Oh, far and fast from the alien past
Over the moaning bar ?
A pitiful thing the gift to-day
That is dross and nothing worth,
Though if it had come but yesterday,
It had brimmed with sweet the earth—
A fading rose in a death cold hand,
That perished in want and dearth.
Who fain would help in this world of ours.
Where sorrowful steps must fall ?
Bring help in time to the waning powers
Ere the bier is spread with the pall,
Nor send reserves when the flags are hurled,
And the dead beyond your call.
For baffling most in this weary world,
With its tangles small and great,
Its lonesome nights and its weary days,
And its struggles forlor®with fate,
Is that bitterest grief, too deep for tears
Of the help that comes too late.
— Margaret I. Sangster.
THE MAN WHO WORKED FOR
COLLISTER.
Perhaps the loneliest spot in all the pine-
woods was the big Collister farm. Its
buildings were not huddled in the center
of it, where they could keep one another
in countenance, but each stood by itself, fac-
ing the desolate stretches of gray sand and
pine stumps in ifs own way. Near each a
few uncut pine-trees kept guard, presum-
ably for shade, but really sending their
straggling shadows far beyond the mark.
Many a Northern heart had ached from
watching them, they were so tall and.
isolate ; for, having been forest-bred, they
had a sad and detached expression when
they stood alone or in groups, just like the
look on Northern faces when they met the
still distances of the South.
In Collister’s day he-and the man who
worked for him were the only strangers
who had peed to watch the pines. A land-
improvement company had opened up the
farm, but after sinking all its money in the
insatiable depths of sandy soil “where the
Lord, who knew best, had planted pine-
tress, the great bustling company made an
assignment of its stumpy fields, and some-
what later the farm passed into the hands
of Collister. Who Collister was, and where
he came from, were variously related far
and wide through the piny woods ; for he
was one of those people who lives are an
odd blending of reclusion and notoriety.
He kept up the little store on the farm ;
and though it was usually his man who
came up from the fields when any one
stood at the closed store and shouted, its
trade was largely augmented by the hope
of seeing Collister.
The sunken money of the land company
must have enriched the soil, for the farm
prospered as well as the store, yielding un-
precedentedly in such patches as the two
men chose to cultivate. In midsummer
the schooner-captains, in their loose red
shirts, came panting up two sunburned
miles from the bayou to chaffer with Collis-
ter or his man over the price of water-
melons ; and when their schooners were
loaded, the land breeze which carried the
cool green freight through bayou and bay
out to the long reaches of the sound, where
the sea wind took the burden on, sent
abroad not only schooner and cargo and
men, but countless strange reports of the
ways and doings of Collister. At least one
of these bulletins never changed. Year
after year, when fall came, and he had
added the season’s proceeds to his accumu-
lating wealth—when even the peanuts had
been dug, and the scent of their roasting
spread through the piny woods on the fresh
air of the winter evenings, making an ap-
petizing advertisement for the store,—it
was whispered through the country, and
far out on the gulf, that Collister said he
would marry any girl who could make
good bread—light bread. That settled at
least one question : Collister came from
the North. The man who worked for him
was thought to have come from the same
place ; but though he did the cooking, his
skill must have left something to be de-
sired, and after current gossip had risked
all its surmises on the likelihood of Collis-
ter’s finding a wife under the condition
imposed, it usually added that, if Collister
married, the man who worked for him
would take it as a slight, and leave.
An old county road led through the big
farm, and along it the country people pass-
ed in surprising numbers and frequency
for so sparsely settled a region. They took
their way leisurely, and if they could not
afford a five-cent purchase at the store,
gave plenty of time to staring right and left
behind the stumps in a cheerful determina.
tion to see something worth rzmembrance.
One day, when the store chanced to be
standing open, one of these passers walked
ap to the thresh-old and stood for a while
looking in. The room was small and
dingy, lighted only by the opening of the
door, and crammed with boxes, leaky bar-
rels, farm produce, and side-meat. One
corner had been arranged with calicoes and
ribbons and threads ; but though the in-
Spector was a young and pretty girl in the
most dingy of cotton gowns, she had scarce-
ly a thought for that corner ; she was star-
ing at a man who was so hard at work re-
arranging the boxes and barrels that he did
not notice her shadow at his elbow. Fi-
nally he glanced up of his own accord.
‘‘Heilo," he said, coming forward ; ‘‘do
you want to buy something ? Why didn’t
you sing out ?”’
Fora little while longer the girl stared
at him as steadily as if he had not moved.
Most of the people who live in the pine-
woods come to have a ragged look, but this
was the raggest person she had ever seen.
He was as ragged as a bunch of pine-
needles ; yet he had the same clean and
wholesome look, and his face was pleasant.
‘‘Are you the man that works for Collis-
ter 2’ she asked.
$ “Yes, 2? he said.
The girl looked him up and down again
with innocent curiosity. ‘‘How much does
he give you?’ she asked.
‘Nothing but my board and clothes,”’
the man answered, and smiled. He did
mot seem to find it hard work to stand still
and watch her while her black eyes swiftly
catalogued eachrag. When they reached
his bare brown feet she laughed.
‘“Then I think he had ought to dress you ‘‘Well, did he onderstan’?’’ she asked.
better, an’ give you some shoes,’”’ she
said.
‘‘He does—winters,’”’ the man answered
calmly.
She gave an impatient shake of her sun-
bonnet. ‘That isn’t the thing—just to
keep you-all warm,’”’ she explained. ‘A
man like Mr. Collister had ought to keep
you looking ’ristocratic.’’
The man who worked for Collister grin-
ned. ‘Not very much in Collister’s line,’’
he said. “We might get mixed np if I
was too dressy.”” He pulled a cracker-box
forward, and dusted it. ‘If you ain’t in a
hurry, you'd better come inside and take a
seat,’’ he added.
The girl sank to the door-step instead,
taking off her bonnet. Its slats folded to-
gether as she dropped it into her lap, and
she gave a sigh of relief, loosening some
crushed tresses of hair from her forehead.
She seemed to be settling down for a com-
fortable inquisition. “What kind of
clothes does Mr. Collister wear?’’ she
began.
The man drew the cracker-box up near
the doorway, and sat down. ‘‘Dressy,’’ he
said ; ‘‘’bout like mine.’
The girl gave him a look which dared to
say, ‘‘I don’t believe it.”
‘‘Honest truth,’” the man nodded.
‘Would you like to have me call him up
from the field, and show him to you ?”’
Not to assent would have seemed as if
she were daunted, and yet the girl had
many more questions to ask about Collis-
ter. ‘‘Pretty soon,’’ she said ‘‘I suppose
if you don’t call him, he'll be coming for
you. They say he works you mighty
hard.” -
It is never pleasant to be spoken of as
something entirely subject to another per-
son’s will. A slow flush spread over the
man’s face, but he answered loyally, *‘Col-
lister may be mean to some folks, but he’s
always been mighty good to me.” He
smiled as he looked off from stump to
stump across the clearing to the far rim of
the forest. The stumps seemed to be run-
ning after one another, and gathering in
groups to whisper secrets. ‘You've got
to remember that this is a God-forsaken
hole for anybody to be stuck in,’’ he said ;
*“’t ain’t in humanity for him to keep his
soul as white as natural, more ’n his skin ;
but there ’s this to be said for Collister :
he’s always good to me.”
“I’m right glad of that,” the girl said.
She too was looking out at the loneliness,
and a little of it was reflected on her face.
*‘You-all must think a heap of him,’’ she
added wistfully.
‘Yon can just bet on that,’’ he declared.
‘I’ve done him a heap of mean turns, too ;
but they was always done ’cause I didn’t
know any better, so he don’t hold me any
grudge.”’ {
*“Wouldn’t he mind if he knew you were
a-losing time by sitting here talking to
me ?’’ she asked.
The man shook his head. ‘‘No,’’ he an-
swered cheerfully ; ‘‘he wouldn’t care—
not for me. There isn’t-anybody else he
wouia favor like that, but he makes ita
point to accommodate me.”’ N
The girl gave her head a little turn. {Do
you think he would accommodate me ?”’
she asked.
He looked her over as critically as she
had first looked at him. “It’s a danger-
ous business answering for Collister,”’ he
ventured ; ‘but maybe if I asked him to,
he would.”
“Well, you are bigoty,”” she asserted.
“I cain’t noways see what there is be-
twixt you. Why, they say that whilst
you’re working he comes out in the field.
an’ bosses you under a’ umbrelly ; an’
—’’ a laugh carried her words along like
leaves on dancing water—‘‘an’ that he
keeps a stool stropped to his back, ready to
set down on whenever he pleases. It is
true— ‘hones’ truth ?”’
A great mirth shook Collister’s man from
head to foot. ‘‘Such a figure—such a
figure as the old boy cuts!” he gasped.
‘Sometimes I ask him if he’ll keep his
stool strapped on when he goes a-courting ;
and he says maybe so—it’ll be so handy to
hitch along closer to the young lady.”
Without thinking, he illustrated with the
cracker-box as he spoke. ‘‘And as for the
umbrella, I certainly ain’t the one to ob-
ject to that ; for, you see, when the sun’s
right hot he holds it over me.”
He leaned half forward as he spoke,
smiling at her. It is hard to tell exactly
when a new acquaintance ceases to be a
stranger ; but a8 the girl on the door-step
smiled in answer, she was unexpectedly
aware that the shrewd, kindly, furrowed
face of this young man who worked for
Collister was something which she had
known for a long, long time. It seemed
as familiar as the scent of pine-needles and
myrtle, or as the shafts of blue, smoke-
stained sunlight between the brown trunks
of the pine-trees in the fall, or as the
feathery outline of green pine-tops against
the dreamy intensity of a Southern sky ;
and when all this has been said of a girl
who lives in the ‘‘pineys,’’ there is no nec-
essity for saying more. She gave a little
nervous laugh.
The man began talking again. ‘It ain’t
such foolery as you would think, his wear-
ing the stool and carrying the umbrella,’
he said. ‘This is the way he reasons it
out, he says. In the first place, there's
the sun ; that’s a pretty good reason. But
what started it was a blazing day up North,
when he was hustling four deals at once ;
a man would need a head the size of a bar-
rel to keep that sort of thing going for
long, and Collister has just an ordinary
head no bigger than mine. Well, the up-
shot of it was that he had a sunstroke, and
was laid up a month ; and then he reck-
oned up the day’s business, and what he’d
gained on one deal he’d lost on another, so
that he came out even toa cent—queer,
wasn’t it 2—with just the experience of a
sunstroke to add to his stock-in-trade.
Then he bought himself an umbrella and a
stool, and began to take life fair and easy.
Easy going is my way too ; that’s why we
get along together.’’
There was a jar of candy on a shelf be-
hind him and above his head, and, turn-
ing, he reached up a long arm and took it
down. It was translucent stick candy
with red stripes round it—just such candy
as every fortunate child knew twenty
years ago, and some know still. In the
piney woods it has not been superseded as
a standard of delight, and the children ex-
pect to receive it gratuitously after any ex-
tensive purchuse. Near the coast, where
creole words have spread, it .s asked for by
a queer, sweet name—Ilagnappe (something
thrown in for good measure). The man
who worked for Collister handed the jar
across to the girl, making her free of it
with a gesture.
“Do you reckon Mr. Collister would
want me to take some ?”’ she asked, pois-
ing her slender brown hand on the edge of
the jar. ‘“You know, they say that when
he first come hyar, an’ the children asked
him for lagnappe, he pretended not to on-
derstan’ ’em, and said he was sorry, but
he hadn’t got it yet in stock. Is that
true ?”
Yes,”
true.”’
the man answered ; ‘‘that’s
AGE om
He lifted his shoulders in a way he had
learned in the South., ‘‘To be sure,’’ he
said. “I told him at the time that it was
a mean thing to do, but he said he simply
couldn’t help himself ; young ones kept
running there from miles around to get
five cents’ worth of baking-sody and ask
for a stick of candy. But take some ; he
won’t mind, for he’s always good to me.”
She drew back her hand. ‘‘No,’ she
said, pouting : ‘‘I’m goin’ to come in some
time when he’s hyar, an’ see if he’ll give
some lagnappe to me.”
“I'll tell him to,”’ the man said.
‘“Well, you are bigoty !"’ the girl re-
peated.
If I was to tell him to, the man persisted
‘‘who should I say would ask for it?’
She looked at him defiantly. “I’ll do
the telling,’’ she said ; ‘‘but while we're
talking about names, what’s yours ?’’
‘“‘Well,”” he answered, ‘‘if you’re not
naming any names, I don’t believe I am.
You know considerably more about me al-
ready than I do about you.”’
‘Oh, just as you please,” she said. To
be brought blankly against the fact that
neither knew the other’s name caused a
sense of constraint between them. She
picked up her bonnet, and put it on as if
she might be about to go ; and though she
did not rise, she turned her face out of
doors so that the honnet hid it from him—
and it was such a pretty face !
‘Say, now,’’ he began, after one of those
pauses in which lives sometimes sway rest-
lessly to and fro in the balances of fate, ‘I
didn’t mean to made you mad. I'll tell
you my name if you want to know.”’
*‘I’m not so anxious,”’ she said. One of
her brown hands went up officiously and
pulled the bonnet still farther forward. *‘Is
1t true,’’ she asked, ‘‘that Mr. Collister
says he will marry any girl that can make
good light bread 2”?
The man formed his lips as if to whistle,
and then stopped. “Yes,”’ he said, eying
the sunbonnet ; ‘‘it ’s true.”
She turned round and surprised him. “I
can make good light bread,’’ she announced.
“You!” he said.
‘‘Yes,”” she answered sharply ; ‘why
not ? It ain’t so great a trick.”
‘But-—"’ he paused, meeting the chal-
lenge of her face uneasily— ‘‘but did you
come here to say that ?”’
“You’ve heard me say it,”’ she retorted.
ie rose, and steed—beside her, looking
neither at her, nor at the fields, nor at the
encircling forest, but far over and beyond
them all, at the first touches of rose-color
on the soft clouds in the west. He seemed
very tall as she looked up to him, and his
face was very grave. She had forgotten
long ago to notice his bare feet and tatter-
ed clothing. ‘‘So that means,”’ he said
siowly, ‘‘that you came here to offer to
marry a man that you never saw.”’
She did not answer for a moment, and
when she did her voice was stubborn.
‘*No,’” she said ; ‘I came hyar to say that
I know how to make light bread. You
needn’t be faultin’ me for his saying that
he would marry any girl that could.”
‘But you would marry him ?”’
*‘I allow if he was to ask me I would.”
The man looked down squarely to meet
her eyes, but he found only the sunbonnet.
“What would you do it for,” he asked—
*a lark 27
“A lark !”” she echoed; ‘‘oh, yes; a
lark.”
He stooped toward her and put his hand
on her shoulder. ‘Look up here,’ he
said ; ‘‘I want to see if it’s a lark or not.”
“I jus’ said it was,” she answered, so
low that he had to bend a little closer to be
certain that he heard.
““That won’t do,” he said firmly ; “you
must look up into my face.”
“I—won’t I” she declared.
He stood gazing at her downcast head.
There was something that shone in his
eyes, and his tongue was ready to say,
“You must.”” He closed his lips and
straightened himself again. The girl sat
perfectly still, except that once in a while
there was a catch in her breath. He kept
looking off into the empty, sighing reaches
of pine-country, which could make people
do strange things. “We haven’t known
each other very long,” he said at last;
“but a few minutes ago [ thought we knew
each other pretty well, and perhaps you
don’t have any better friend than Iam in
this desolate hole. Won’t you tell me
why it is that you want to marry Col-
lister 2”
“For his money,” the girl answered
shortly.
His face darkened as if he was curs-
ing Collister’s money under his
breath ; but she did not look up, and he
said nothing until he could speak quietly.
‘Is that quite fair to Collister 2’ he asked.
“He did talk abo. marrying any girl that
could make good light bread : but I don’t
suppose he wanted to do it unless she liked
him a little too.”
‘‘I—allowed—maybe I'd like him a lit-
tle,”’ the girl explained ; ‘an’ I was right
sure that he’d like me.”
“That's the mischief of it,”” the man
muttered ; ‘‘I’ll warrant he’ll like you !"
After hiding her face so long the girl
looked up, and was surprised to see him so
troubled. ‘‘You’ve been right ‘good to
me,’’ she said gently, ‘‘an’ I reckon I don’t
mind—perhaps I had ought to tell you jus’
why I come. I—I don’t want to be mean
to Mr. Collister, an’ if you don’t think it’s
fair I won’t tell him I can make good
bread ; only—’’ she met his eyes appeal-
ingly—“if I don’t, I don’t see what I’m
goin’ to do.”’
‘‘What’s the matter 2”
‘Don’t you have any home 97’
She smiled bravely, so that it was sor-
rowful to see her face. ‘‘Not any more,”
she said. “I’ve always had a right good
home, but my paw died—only las’ week.
You an’ Mr. Collister used to know him,
an’ he has often spoke’ of both of you. He
was Noel Seymour from up at Castau-
play.”
‘Noel Seymour—dead ?’ said the man.
All her light words pleaded with him for
tenderness now that he knew she had said
them with an aching heart. “But Sey-
mour was, a creole,” he added, ‘and you
are not.”’
“My own mother was an American,’
the girl answered, ‘‘an’ I learned my talk
from her before she died ; an’ then my
stepmother is’ American, to.”” She stopped
just long enough to try to smile again.
“What do you think?” she asked. “My
stepmother don’t like me. She isn’t going
to let me stay at home any more. Could
you be as mean as that 2”
Ie put his hand on her shoulder. ‘‘You
poor child I" he said ; for gossip came in
sometimes in return for all that radiated
from the farm, and he coulds recall a cruel
story he had once heard of Noel Seymour’s
wife. It made him believe all and more
than the girl had told him. ‘‘Poor child !”’
he said again ; ‘‘you haven't told me yet
what's your first name.”
“Ginevra,’’ she answered. ‘My own
mother liked it ; my stepmother says it’s
the name of a fool. She thinks she’s
young an’ han’some ; hut I allow she’s
sending me off because I'm a right smart
the best-favored of the two. She wants to
get married again, an’ thar ain’t but one
hie asked.
‘Gharge.
bachelor up our way, so she’s skeered he'd
take first pick of me.”
“My kingdom !” said the man who
worked for Collister. ‘‘If there’s some-
body up your way that you know, and
that likes you, why didn’t you go and take
your chances with him ?”’
A hot flush rushed over the girl's face.
“Does you-all think I'd be talkin’ .like
this to a man I knowed ?”’ she demanded.
She stared angrily until her lips began to
quiver. ‘‘An’ besides. I hate him !’ she
cried. ‘‘He’s nota fittin’ man for such
as me.”’
‘You poor child !”’ he said again.
She caught the compassion of his eyes.
‘‘What had I ought to have done?’ “she
asked. ‘‘What had any girl ought to do
out hyar in the pineys if she was lef’ like me?
I’ve hearn o’ places whar girls could find
work, an’ my stepmother she allowed I
could go to the oyster-factories in Potosi ;
but whar would I stay ? An’ then I went
to the factories onct with my paw, an’ the
air round ’em made me sick. You see, I
was raised in the pineys, an’ they has a
different smell.”
He shook his head, though kindly, at so
slight a reason, and the sharp pain of his
disapproval crossed her face. ‘‘Oh, you
don’t know anything about it,’’ she cried
desperately ; *‘thar ain’t no man that can
tell how it feels for a girl that’s had a
father tha’ts made of her like mine did to
be turned right out to face a whole town-
ful that she never saw. Can’t you see
how, if you was skeered, it would be a
heap easier jus’ to face one man ? An’ then
I’d hearn no end about Mr. Collister, an’
some of it was funny, an’ thar wa’nt none
of it very bad ; so I jus’ made up my mind
to come round hyar an’ see for myse’f
what like he was. You see.’’ she went on,
with a lift of the head, ‘it was for the
money, but it was for the honorableness,
too ; an’ I'd cross my heart an’ swear to
you on the Bible that when I come hyar I
hadn’t no thought that anybody could
think it was onder-reachin’ Mr. Collister.
I thought he’d be right proud, an’ before
we got to talking I never sensed that it
would be a hard thing to name to him ;
but now—"’ her voice trembled and broke.
“Oh,”’ she cried, “I wished I'd never
come!’
The man looked away from her. ‘Don’t
wish it,”’ he said “huskily. “Collister
ought to be proud if he can have yon for
his wife ; and he would give you a good
home and everything your heart could ask
for.’ . |
Tears sprang into her eyes, and she drop-
ped her head upon her knees-to lide them.
‘Oh, I know, I know,” shg sobbed ; ‘“‘but
I'd rather marry you!” #
“0-oh I" breathed the’man who work-
ed for Collister ; “I’d so much rather that
you did.” And with a laugh of pure de-
light he caught her up into his arms.
When they left the store a red blaze of
sunset shone between the trunks of the
pine-trees. The man fastened the padlock
behind them, and they started in a lovers’
silence along the road. The big farm was
as empty and lifeless as ever, except for the
lonesome neighing of a horse in the barn-
yard and for a single straight blue thread
of smoke which rose from one of the little
houses. The girl pointed at it, and smiled.
‘“He’s having to get his own supper to-
night,’’ she said ; ‘but I’ll make it up to
him : Ill make his light bread jus’ the
same.’
‘“‘Yes,”” he said, ‘‘you’d better ; for,
whatever he’s heen to other folks, he's
always been mighty good to me ; an’,
please God, he’s going to be mighty good
to you.” .
A breath of land breeze had started in
the pine-woods, and was going out bearing
a tribute of sweet odors to thesea. The
disk of the sun sank below the black line
of the earth, but the trees were still etched
against a crimson sky. Softly and faintly
in the far distance some passing creole
hailed another with a long, sweet call.
They reached the edge of the clearing, and
went on through the deepening twilight of
the pines. There were no words in all the
world quite true enough to speak in that
great murmurous stillness that was in the
woods and in their hearts. At last they
came to a path beyond which she would
not let him go, thinking it better for this
last time to go on alone. 2
“Good night,” she said lingeringly ;
and he held her close and kissed her,
whispering good night. Then he stood
and watched her slender swaying figure as
it grew indistinct between the trees ; and
just before it vanished he called out guard-
edly.
‘‘Say,”” he summoned, ‘come here !”
She went laughing back to bim. ‘‘You-
all are bigoty,”" she said, ‘‘beginning to
order me about !”’
He took her hands, and held her from
him so that he could sce her face. ‘You
mustn’t be mad at me,” he said ; ‘but
there’s something I forgot to tell you—I’'m
Collister.”” Mary Tracy Earle, in the
Century Magazine.
Central Pennsylvania Methodist Confer-
ence.
What was Done at the Clearfield Meeting.—Pre-
siding Elders’ Reports.—What the Various Dis-
tricts Show in the Matter of Working for the
Cause of the Great and Good Master.
The conference of the Methodist Episco-
pal church convened in the opera house in
Clearifield on last Wednesday Nearly
three hundyed ministers were in attend-
ance. Bishop Ninde who was the guest of
T. H. Murray while in Clearfield, presided.
The public exercises of the conference be-
gan with the missionary sermon by Rev.
W. P. Eveland, Ph., D. He took for his
text Gen. IV : 9; his theme was ‘‘Univer-
sal Brotherhood, and the Obligations Re-
sulting Therefrom.”’
Thursday morning the devotional exer- |
cises were conducted by Rev. F. B. Riddle,
of Wrightsville, After the reading of the
minutes came the report of Dr. D. S. Mon-
roe, the presiding elder of the Altoona dis-
trict. His report showed a most flattering
condition of affairs in this large and import-
ant district. Credit was given to all the
preachers for faithful and conscientious
work. New churches were reported at
Lloysburg and Hunter’s Run, Howard
There were over 2,000 conversions
the greatest numbers being at Morrisdale
Mines, Oshante, Fillmore, Shawmut and
Pleasant Gap. The Epworth league was
reported in a flourishing condition, the re-
ports to the conference convention showing
that the Altoona district has the largest
number of chapters, of members, and of
moneys collected. All the benevolences
are in advance of last year. The mission-
ary collection is about $1,000 in advance of
last years’s collection, exclusive of the spe-
cial gifts. -
Dr. E. H. Yocum, presiding elder of the
Danville district, read his report. He said
if you have a hard thing to do the best
thing to do is to do it at once. Therefore
I report diminished benevolent collections.
This, however, represents more hard work
than the collection of last year. The mis-
sionary collection will be about $500 less
than it was last year. Church extension,
owing to a special gift of H. J. Reeder, of
Catawissa, is slightly in advance. Confer-
ence claimants fall somewhat behind.
There have been large revivals over the dis-
trict. These aggregate 1,600 conversions.
There are 1,400 probationers. New
churches have been built at Headly Grove
and Freeland. In Bloomsburg a church
costing $50,000 ie nearing completion. At
Second church, Shamokin, a portion of
what is to be a great church will soon be
ready for occupancy. Pleasant Valley will
also have a new church. Parsonages have
been built at Irish Valley and one pur-
chased at Wapwollopen.
The Harrisburg district was called and
Dr. W. W. Evans read his report. He al-
luded feelingly to the deaths of Mrs. Anna
Maclay Shannon, widow of the late Rev.
J. Y. Shannon ; of Rev. S. W. Sears and of
Rev. James F. Pennington. In the dis-
trict 140 members were lost by death, yet
the membership of the district increased by
600. There were over 1,200 conversions
and about 1,000 probationers. There have
been large revivals, conspicuously those at
Ridge avenue, Harrisburg and at Newport.
The Epworth League has seventy-five chap-
ters, with 5,000 members. The Junior
League was also reported to be in a flour-
ishing condition. In addition to having a
large revival, the Ridge Avenue church,
Harrisburg, Rev. A. R. Lambert, pastor,
has built a handsome parsonage, costing
about $6,000. At Chambersburg a hand-
some church will be ready for dedication
on June 13th. Other churches and parson-
ages throughout the district have been
largely improved. The benevolent collec-
tions all show an advance.
Rev. J. B. Polsgrove. presiding elder of
the Juniata district, read his report. Rev.
Levi S. Crone and Rev. George Berkstress-
er, two superanuated preachers, have
passed away during the year. Illness in
the homes of many of the preachers, has
not prevented the most faithful work.
New churches were reported at Adamsburg
and McCabe chapel, Concord charge ; and
in course of erection at Blair and Asbury.
A new parsonage has been erected at Mifilin-
town, J. H. Mortimer.
have been improved. For church improve-
ments $5,400 has been expended. Ep-
worth League work is in a prosperous con-
dition. There are eighty-seven senior and
sixteen junior chapels. The interest in
education among the young people of the
district was appreciatively alluded to.
The failure of the wheat crop ; added to
the general business depression, has made
this a hard year financially. Notwith-
standing this the missionary collection
shows an advance of $260 and other collec-
tions about equal to what they were last
year. There are upwards of 2,200 conver-
sions and 1,900 probationers.
churches that have the largest number of
converts are Annisville, Lewistown and
Burnham.
Williamsport district, was the last of the
presiding elders to read his report. New
churches have been built at West Jersey
Shore, Hickory on Penfield charge, Lib-
erty circuit. There have also been built
four new parsonages, and the parsonage of
Pine street, Williamsport, has been rebuilt
at a cost of $3,000. There are also many
churches and parsonages which had larger
or smaller sums spent upon them for their
improvement. Owing to the death of some
of the largest contributors, the missionary
collection shows a decrease. Dr. Foster
said that this was the first time in a presid-
ing eldership of eighteen years that he had
been compelled to make such a report.
Still the missionary collection aggregates
$9,800. This is the last report of Dr. Fos-
ter as presiding elder of the Williamsport
district. During his administration the
number of charges has increased from forty-
eight to sixty ; pastoral. support has in-
creased more than $10,000 ; missionary col-
lections increased $2,000 ; thirty new
churches have been built and fourteen new
parsonages ; an increase in the membership
of over 2,000.
Rey. J. F. Kerlin was allowed to with-
draw under charges.
Rev. T. A. Elliott was changed from an
active to a supernumerary relation.
Dr. J. H. Morrow, secretary of the Penn-
sylvania Bible society, and Dr. Homer Ea-
ton, agent of the New York Book Concern
were introduced to the conference and Dr.
Eaton said : During the past quadrennium
almost half a million dollars have been ap-
portioned amongthe several conferences.
Last year the dividend was $120,000. This
year the agents have been authorized to
distribute $100,000. = The share of the Cen-
tral Pennsylvania conference is $1,641.
Dr. J. H. Morrow showed a portion
of Scripture with a unique history.
About ten years ago a Mr. Richards
went as a missionary to an African tribe
the name of whose language was not known
to scholars. He had practically to build
up a language, and yet the book shown by
Dr. Morrow was the work of boys of tha
tribe. They made the type, set it up, did
the printing and all the rest of the work
upon the book. Dr. Morrow also showed
a copy of the soldiers’ Bible that was dis-
tributed among the Japanese army. While
speaking Bishop Ninde interrupted to say
that he was in China and Japan during the
whole period of the war. He said that the
reason the Bibles were made so small was
that the Japanese soldier might carry them
up his sleeve. The commander of the ar-
my not only gave permission, but also of-
fered every encouragement for the distribu-
tion of these hooks. There were 77,000 of
the small copies of one book of the Bible
distributed among the private soldiers, and
17,000 copies of the New Testament dis-
tributed among the officers.
On Saturday the bishop called forward
the following class for admission into full
membership : O. H. Albertson, Thomas
W. McKenty, F. E. Purcell, George M.
Remley, H. W. Newman, W. C. Wallace.
The candidates were required to hand to
the secretary written pledges that they
were not in debt so as to interfere with
their work in the ministry, also that they
would wholly abstain from the use of to-
bacco.
The following were elected deacons and
admitted to full membership in the con-
ference : Francis E. Parcell, Harry W.
Newman, William C. ‘Wallace, P. H. Al-
bertson and George M. Remley, having
been previously ordained, were admitted
to full membership. Thomas W. Kenty
was continued on trial in the studies of the
third year.
The conference decided to vote upon the
constitutional questions without debate.
G. W. Stevens, C. L. Benscoter, G. M.
Conner, M. L. Ganoe and B. F. Dimmick
were aprointed tellers.
The f st question was upon the admis-
sion of women to the general conference,
and rv sulted as follows : For 98, against
93.
The second question was upon lay rep-
resentation and was to decide whether the
laymen should have equal representation
with the preachers in the general confer-
ence. Seventy votes for equal representa-
tion, 128 against.
The tenth question was taken up, and
James H. Morgan and Edwin A. Pyles
were elected to elder’s orders. Wilbert W.
Cadle was passed and George F. Boggs was
Other parsonages |
Among the"
Dr. M. K. Foster, presiding elder of the
{510 ; Williamsport, $9,786.
| 056.
conditioned upon the studies of the fourth
year.
The eleventh question was taken up, and
William W. Rothrock, Walter G. Steel, J.
J. Resh, Matthew M. Walker, James
Daugherty and Archer Steele, Sr., were
elected to local deacon’s orders. John P.
Creek having passed satisfactory examina-
tion upon some of the studies, the commit-
tee of examination was instructed to give
him a certificate showing this fact. :
S. W. Purvis having passed examination
was elected to local elders orders. Geo.
S. Womer passed in the studies of the sec-
ond as well as those of the first year.
On Saturday a big Methodist love
feast was held in the opera house
and was presided over by Rev. M.
L. Smyser. Bishop Ninde preached
a sermon and took for his text part of
the sixth verse of the ninth chapter of
Acts : “Lord, what will thou have me
to do ?”? .
The bishop, in the course of his sermon,
referred in hopeful words to the progress
being made by Christianity against Agnos-
ticism and kindred disbeliefs. In the
course of his sermon in a reference to news-
paper men, the bishop said that ‘‘editors
are seldom Christians, but they are doing a
great work for civilization and Christ-
ianity.”
At the conclusion of his sermon, Bishop
Ninde ordained as deacons Harry W. New-
man, Wm. C. Wallace, Wm. W. Rothrock,
Waller G. Steel, Oliver H. Albertson, Mat-
thew H. Walker, James Doherty and
Archer Steel, Sr. He ordained as elders
James H. Mogan, Edwin A. Pyles and
Samuel W. Parvis.
MONDAY’S SESSION OF CONFERENCE.
CLEARFIELD, March 22. — To-day the
opera house could not hold half the people
attending the session of the Central Penn-
sylvania Methodist Episcopal conference.
In the report of the Philadelphia hospital
a large deficit was shown, and the confer-
ence was asked to contribute on what is to
be known as hospital day.
The afternoon exercises closed with an
address by president George Reed. of Dick-
inson College. Dr. Stephens announced
the following collections from various dis-
tricts : Altoona, $10,796 ; Danville, $9,-
292 ; Harrisburg, $9,672; Juniata, $5,-
Total, $45,-
THE APPOINTMENTS.
Conference adjourned, Tuesday morning,
after the reading of the appointments :
Those for the Altoona district are as fol-
lows : y
Presid ing Elder, David S. Monroe, Altoona.
Allegheny, Bruce Hughes.
Altoona,
Chestnut Ave., Nathan H. Schenck.
Eighth Axe., J. Ellis Bell.
Epworth Mission, Chas. A. Biddle.
Fifth Ave., Wm. McK. Reiley.
First Church, Martin L. Ganoe.
Juniata, to be supplied.
Simpson Church, George M. Hoke.
Walnut Avenue and Fairview, W. P.
Shriner.
Ansonville, Job Truax, (supply.)
Bellefonte, Wm. A. Stephens.
Bellwood, Samuel D. Wilson.
Birmingham, David F. Kapp.
Centre, J. W. Chambers, (sapply).
Clearfield, Amos S. Baldwin.
Coalport and Irvona, G. T. Gray.
Curwensville, John A. Wood, Jr.
Duncansville, S. Milton Frost.
Glen Hope, J. W. Forrest.
Half Moon, Robert W. Runyan.
Hastings, George F. Boggs.
Hollidaysburg, E. E. A. Deavor.
Houtzdale, Benjamin B. Hamlin.
Howard, Andrew P. Wharton.
Karthaus, Edmund White.
Lumber City, Wilbert W. Cadie.
Mahaffey. Hugh Strain.
Martinsburg and Woodbury, Joshua K.
Lloyd.
McKee’s Gap, J. R. Shipe.
Milesburg and Unionville, Geo. E.
Morrisdale, Samuel Blair.
New Washington, Wm. J. Sheaffer.
Osceola, W. R. Pichen.
Patton, Chas. W. Wasson.
Penn’s valley, Theodore S. aus.
Philipsburg, T. I.. Tomkinson.
Pleasant Gap, GG. W. MelIlnay (supply).
Port Matilda,”H. N. Minnigh.
Ramey, Henry A. Straub.
Roaring Spring, Edwin H. Witman.
Shawmut, Lemuel L. Logan, (supply. )
Sn ow Shoe, Chas. W. Rishel.
State College, Asbury W. Guyer.
Tyrone, First church, Horace L. Jacobs.
Columbia Ave., Vaughn T. Rue.
Utahville, John 7. Creek, (supply.)
Wallaceton, Frank W. Leidy.
Warriors Mark, R. W. Illingworth.
West Clearfield, Lyons M. Brady.
Williamsburg, Geo. A. Singer.
Woodland and Bradford, James S. Beyer.
SUPERNUMERARIES—Lewis A. Rudisill,
Elliot S. Latshaw.
SUPERANNUATES—J no.
Geo. Warren, Geo. B. Ague.
Other appointments in which our readers
might be interested are :
Alexander R. Miller, moved from Philips-
burg to Berwick.
George D. Pennepacker, Danville.
Alfred L. Miller, Gordon.
David Y. Brouse, Jerseytown.
William A. Houck, Mt. Carmel.
George Leidy, Sunbury.
Thomas S. Wilcox, Shamokin 1st.
Benj. H. Mosser, Chambershurg.
George M. Glenn, Gettysburg and New
Oxford.
J. W. Rue, Harrisburg, 5th Street.
Gideon P. Sarvis, Hustontown.
R. H. Wharton, Stewartstown
W. T. D. Noble, Burnham.
R. H. Stine, Cassville.
W. H. Norcross. Clearville.
Morris E. Swartz, Hopewell.
R. H. Gilbert, Huntingdon.
M. L. Smyser. Lewistown.
Wm. Brill, Mt. Union.
M. K. Foster, Lock Haven, Trinity.
W. V. Ganoe, Williamsport, Grace.
King.
W. Olewine,
Bryan Gives Half His Income.
Wants the Bimetallic Theory Propogated All Over
the Country.
LiNcoLN, Neb., March 22.—W..J. Bryan
will give one-half the royalties received from
the sale of his book, ‘‘The First Battle,”
to the cause of bimetallism, and has ap-
pointed a committee whose duty it will be
to properly expend the funds received for
that purpose. The committee is composed
of Senator James K. Jones, Arkansas ;
Senator Henry M. Teller, Colorado ; Sena-
tor William V. Allen, Nebraska, and A. J.
Warner, president of the national bimetallic
union.
In answer to a communication from his
publishers stating that $16,000 was due
him as royalty on the first month’s sales,
Mr. Bryan instructed them to forward $4,-
500 to Mr. Jones, $1,500 to Mr. Warner,
$1,500 to Mr. Allen; and $500 to Mr. Tel-
ler, and certified checks for these amounts
were sent to-day.
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