Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. i
THE ICEBERG MAID.
8, 1897.
“Where are you going, my pretty maid 2"
“I'm going to Klondyke, sir,” she said.
“Can I go with you, my pretty maid?’
“Is your courtship provisioned fortwo ?’ she said.
Then he gazed in the sky and he looked in the
mud,
The spick-and-span man with the buttonhole bud,
For he had but a single suit of crash,
And not enough to jingle of cash.
He could cut a dash at a summer resort,
And dance with a heel-and-toe cohort,
But he couldn't dash for the Pole, could you ?
Or dance on the waves if you hadn’t the glue ?
So the spick-and-span man and the iceberg maid
Will not go north together, I'm ’fraid,
For the spick-and-span man he lacks the price ;
He’s awful nice, but that cuts no ice.
—From the Buffalo Courier Record.
A BROTHER'S SACRIFICE.
I was leaning against the railing in the
park, enjoying a cigar and watching the
carriages as they passed. It was the fash-
ionable hour and this was a favorite oc-
cupation of mine.
Had I been younger, I might possibly
have indulged in a dream of the time when
riches and luxury should be mine, when
the inner circle of society should be my
world ; but I was no longer young. At
sixty one is contented with sufficient, and
wealth loses much of its fascinations. I
have found it so, at least.
There was a block for two or three min-
utes, and the occupants of the carriage
which was standing just in front of me,
arrested my attention. There were two
ladies and a gentleman—husband and wife
and danghter, I took them to be.
The man, who was about my age, was
exceedingly good looking, and the young
lady was pretty, but it was the elder lady
who particularly interested me. Her hair
was quite white and her face pale, but so
handsome, and so exquisitely sweet in ex-
pression, that in a moment my old brain
was weaving a romance about her.
Many people looked at the earriage and
several bowed. Evidently the occupants
were people well known.
‘You seemed interested,’”’ said a man
touching my arm, as the carriage mov-
ed on.
‘“Yes,”” I answered shortly. I have a
rooted aversion to entering into conversa-
tion with strangers.
The man looked at me curiously, with a
smile upon his face. He was talland thin,
and only fairly well dressed, but of gen-
tlemanly bearing, and there were deep
lines under his eyes and about his mouth.
“I have heen looking for you for two
months past,’” he said.
“For me? You have made a mistake, I
think.”
“You have changed little, Mr. Har-
graves, I must have changed much, or you
would reniember me.’
‘Certainly I have forgotten you,” I
said politely, hearing him call me by
name.
‘‘Robert Denmore.”’
For a moment I was silent—Denmore !
“Of course—yes. We met in Vienna,
didn’t we?’
He nodded and we shook hands.
‘*Vienna—twenty years ago,” I said.
“How times flies! What have the years
brought to you ?”’
‘A living death,”’ was the strange an-
swer.
I looked inquiringly at him.
“True,” he said. ‘‘Come to my rooms
and renew our old friendship. I have not
afriend left in the world except you ; and
I cannot let you go now I have found you.
I have been looking for you for two months
—two months to-morrow. I can fix the
time to an hour.”
Robert Denmore had always puzzled me
—he puzzled me now.
As I walked home with him, my mind
slipped back twenty years. He and I had |
met in Vienna, and finding our tastes
agreed, had traveled about together for a
few months. We became very good friends,
but he told me little about himself.
He seemed to have done with the past
altogether, and thought very little about
the future. I remember him saying once,
“I never think about what I did yester- |
day ; I don’t care what happens to-mor-
row ; to-day is all I trouble myself about,”’
and he carried this system of existence to
such an extent that
often upset.
No doubt there was a secret in his past
life, but I found him an interesting com-
panion, and his secret did not concern me.
After dinner that night we sat and
smoked.
It does me good to see you again,” he
said. “The fact of the matter is, that I
want to tell you a story. Were you never
curious about me in the old days 2”
“Yes, often.”’
Well, I want to tell you my history. I
was a disappointed man then; I am a
broken down one now, without friends, al-
most without money. Oh! Iam not go-
ing to borrow. You remember when I
left you and returned to England ?”’
“I do, and you promised to look me up
in London, which promise you never
kept.”
‘No ; but you received a letter from me
telling you that I was going abroad.”
“Yes.”
“That letter was a lie. I have not been
out of the country since. I knew I was
not going when I wrote that letter.’
He spoke as if the statement was the
keynote to his whole history. His manner
quite startled me.
‘You wonder why I took the trouble to
tell you a lie? Well, I wanted to be for-
gotten ; I did not want you to try to
find me.”’
“And yet you have spent the last two
months looking for me,” I said.
“I don’t want to be forgotten any more.
I want to have a friend in the world to
talk to.”’
He was silent for a moment and relight-
ed his pipe.
“There were two of us,”’ he said, ‘twin
boys. I was the elder by ten minutes,
and we were born three months after our
father’s death. We grew up great friends,
as twins often are, and yet we were very
different. I developed into a quiet, stu-
dious, grave faced youngster. I was slow at
learning, slow of speech, and nobody’s fa-
vorite. My brother Richard, on the con-
trary, was bright and clever ; even as a
boy his conversation was accounted bril-
liant. He could do anything and every-
thing, was full of fun and laughter, and
generous and thoughtless to a fault. Rich-
ard Denmore was petted by everybody.
When we were about sixteen my mother
died. TI remember the night before her
death as if it were yesterday.
“You are my eldest boy, Robert,’ she
said, taking my strong hand in her feeble
arrangements were
one. ‘You are, perhaps, not so clever,
naturally, as Richard, but you have got
balance, which he has not. Richard troub-
les me often.’
‘Everybody likes him, mother,” I an-
swered.
‘That makes all the more danger ;
and I want you, Robert, to look after
Richard.’
‘I shall always love him.’
*‘And you will help him?
‘“Yes, always.’
‘More than once that night she made
me repeat the promise, and I took an oath,
little knowing what the oath meant.
“Time passed, and we both got on well.
I had, perhaps, the most money, but then
Idid not goout as much as Richard did,
and he gave away more than I did, too.
“The humdrum round of my daily life
was suddenly disturbed—pleasantly so.
Alice Eversham came into it, and from the
first moment I saw her I loved her. I had
never even cared about a woman before ;
had never even as a boy, had a preference
for one of the pupils at the seminary for
voung ladies we passed every morning on
our way to school. For a long time I
loved in silence. I feared to put my case
to the test, and when I plucked up my
courage to ask Alice to be my wife, I was
too late. She was kind and gentle, but
her ‘no’ was final.
“But, Alice, I will wait. You will
change—you must change,’ I said, in my
despair.
I shall never change."
‘““Who is the—other man?"
“I cannot tell you that. A woman
does not confess her love for a man before
that man has asked her.’
many times, heaven knows, but never so
black as it was then. It is the one great
passion I have known, and it has made me
what I am to-day.
**A week later Richard bounced into my
room one night. He threw himself down
in an easy chair and began to laugh.
‘‘Got the blues, Bobbie?’
‘No.’
“Well, congratulate me. I’m the hap-
piest fellow in the world, I want you to
be my best man. I any going to be mar-
ried.”
‘“Married !”’
“Yes ; I am caught at last—the dearest
little girl living. You know her well.’
“Who is it?
‘‘Alice Eversham.’
“I sprang from my chair and brought
my clinched fist down upon the table.
Blind rage took possession of me for a
moment.
‘Hallo !”” he exclaimed. ‘What's
the matter? Are you in love with her
too ?*’
“No ; I was thinking,’
stupidly.
“If you think like that often you will
smash all your furniture. Come, tell me
the truth, Bobbie. You are in love with
Alice yourself. I cannot blame you.
Anyway, she will be your sister, old
fellow.
| ‘‘His words were intended as a consola-
| tion, but they were simply maddening.
“It was only afterwards, when I became
| sane enough to think calmly, that I felt
i Richard had as much right to happiness as
I had. We both loved her, and she loved
him. It was all fair, honest dealing ; I
could not complain.
‘‘Richard’s wedding day was a torture.
‘‘Good-by, Robert,” Alice said, just be-
| fore they went away. ‘You forgive me?’
“There is nothing to forgive,” I an-
| swered.
‘And you wish me happiness ?’
“With all my heart! I said. ‘We
shall not see much of each other, Alice, in
the future ; it is better not ; but remem-
ber, I am your brother—more, your friend.
If you should ever want me, send for me.’
‘When we come back I shall send for
you at once,’ she answered.
“And I shall not come. In trouble
you shall fina me ready, but otherwise I
shall be out of reach. I leave England to-
morrow, and I do not know when I shall
| return.’
| “I shall have to get into trouble quick-
| ly,’ she said. ‘Good-by.’
| “Ileft England and wandered about,
| trying to forget. Alice had been married
| ten years when I first met yon, Hargraves,
{and during that time I did not see her,
but I heard constantly from Richard, and
| beggared myself almost in helping him.
| He did not seem to have an idea of the
{ value of money—spent it as if there was
| no limit to his income.
“I went to her, and found matters about
|as bad as they could be. Richard was
i desperate and half ashamed to see me. By
| a terrible struggle, and pledging my credit
to the utmost limit, I managed, as I
| thought, to set him straight. I believe
| Alice would have gone down upon her
i knees to thank me had I let her ; and
| Richard thanked me too, but did not seem
| quite at ease.
[ I was glad to get away from them, and
IT made arrangements to leave England
| again.
“To be perfectly truthful, my resources
| were so reduced that I meant to settle in
some continental town where living was
cheap. All my preparations were made,
when I received a telegram :
“Come to me at once. ALICE.’
“Wondering what new complication had
arisen—for I could read trouble in the mes-
sage—I went.
‘Alice was alone.
‘Robert,’ she said, clutching my arm,
and there was a look of horror in her eyes,
‘is it true?’
‘Is what true ?”?
“That Richard is a thief ?’
‘No. Who has said so?’
“We were dining out last night and I
overheard two men talking about Richard.
They were surprised to see him there. One
of them said distinctly that he had com-
mitted forgery with regard to some com-
pany matter, and was liable to he arrested
| at any moment.’
‘Nonsense, Alice!
| taken.’
| “They mentioned his name—R. Den-
more. Oh Robert? I have been brave
|
|
|
I answered
You are mis-
through my troubles—heaven knows I
{ have—but if this is true it will kill me.’
| “Did these men appear tc know Rich-
lard well?” I asked.
| ‘No. They heard his name, and then
| began to talk.’
| about it ?’
*‘No.
| coward, and dare not. If itis alla lie he
| would never forgive me for doubting him.
If it is true—Robert, you once promised to
always be my friend—you must save him,
for my sake and my child’s.’
“I am always your friend,’ I answered.
taking her hand in mine. ‘I will find out
about this story. It is all a mistake,
probably ; and if not, there is more than
one R. Denmore, for instance.’
“I was terribly afraid that the story was
true, but spoke to lessen her anxiety. The
look of a startled hare came into her eyes,
but I did not think about it until after-
wards. How the men Alice overheard ob-
‘Life has been black enough for me |
‘‘Have you said anything to Richard |
I ought to do it, but I am a |
tained their information I do not know,
but it was in substance true.
*‘A heartless fraud had been committed,
and apparently by R. Denmore. I was
helpless. What could I do? And then
Alice’s words and look took possession of
me. I think fora few days I was almost
mad. I need not tell you how, link by
| link. the chain of evidence was forged—I
helped to forge it myself. It was easy.
The fact of my preparations for leaving
England, the uncertainty of my destina-
tion, my pledged credit.
‘I was arrested, tried, convicted. There
was no merey for the man who, by a heart-
less fraud, bad brought ruin and destitu-
tion to many—death by suicide to more
than one. I was sentenced twenty years’
penal servitude. Two months ago to-
morrow I regained my liberty.”
He stopped—his tale was told.
“Denmore I’ I exclaimed, starting to
my feet. ‘‘You did this for a brother’s
sake 27’
‘No; for the sake of the woman I
loved.”
“It was a
wicked.”
“It is over.”’
“And your brother ?”’
‘‘He remained silent —has been silent
ever since. Things have prospered with
him—fortune is his. Twenty years is a
long time to remember. He has quite for-
| gotten me.”
{| “Scoundrel! And his wife?"
‘I do not know, Hargraves, but J think
she must have believed me guilty. You
see, the evidence against me was very
strong.’’
| I was silent, Presently Denmore took
| some papers from his pocket.
‘I saw this in a shop window yesterday,
and bought it,’ he said, handing me a
photograph. ‘On it was printed, ‘Hon,
| Richard Denmore and wife.” He has he-
| come famous. Do you recognize the pic-
ture ?’
Then I remembered the occupants of the
carriage in the park.
“I think I have kept my oath, Har-
graves.”’
I took his hand and pressed it, but I did
not speak. A lump was in my throat, and
| words would not come.” By Stanley
| Howard, in the Home Queen.
monstrous folly. It was
American Thriftlessness.
Too Little Attention Given to the Future in This
Land of Plenty.
Perhaps one ought to be ashamed to
mention his next impression, and certainly
he had better plead at once the subtle in-
fluence of Scots blood, but one could not
declare that the Americans are an economi-
cal people. "If one were placed in a wit-
ness box he might be obliged to declare
that they were distinctly thriftless, says
Tan McLaren in the ‘‘Outlook.”” When an
American understamps a letter it is not be-
cause he grudges the stamp, for he would
prefer to send a telegram, and he flings
about his money with gorgeous prodigality.
Times there are when a hard-bitten, pov-
erty-stricken Scot cherishes a bitter grudge
against his most friendly cousin. It is
when he follows him in a continental hotel
and finds the lackeys despise his poor vail
after the royal largesse they have just re-
ceived. Of course it is explained that an
American regards a dollar and a shilling
(or franc) as equivalent ; and if this plea
be valid, then further remonstrance is use-
less. We of a poor race, who win our
bread hardly, and perhaps keep our scanty
gains too carefully, must succumb before
this superb indifference to pecuniary de-
tail. We can only stand aside and wonder
at our kinsman who gets his money so
easily, who holds it so lightly. who spends
it 80 so lavishly—a man surely of a very
princely habit and far removed above
thought of saving. And yet it may be al-
lowed us to shake our heads and have some
misgivings as to whether this prodigality
is for the good of individual character and
the firm upbuilding of a people.
Is the ostentatious waste of food in ho-
tels wholesome or justifiable, where the
menu is bewildering in variety, and the
portions supplied beyond all necessity,
and more is taken away than is used?
Does it conduce to stability and self-re-
straint to be quite indifferent about to-
morrow, and to reserve nothing of to-day’s
earnings? Have not the farmers sraded
recklessly on the virgin resources of the
land? Have not the forests been improvi-
dently cut down? Is there not every-
where a certain want of prudence and man-
agement which cannot in the long run
minister to moral strength or even to ma-
terial wealth? If it be true, as is contend-
ed, that every great empire has been built
up on thrift, this means that the homeliest
of virtues does not end in the accumula-
tion of money, but results in the creation
of manhood. And the best friends of
America, therefore, desire that amid all
her prosperity she should not fall away in-
to improvidence and luxury, but ever re-
tain and cultivate that habit of simple and
severe living which was shown by her
Puritan fathers.
The white whale which was brought
from Canadian waters to the New York
Aquarium on .June 5th died on July 24th,
of edema of the lungs. On July 23rd, one
of the keepers noticed that something was
wrong with the whale, as he was attracted
by the loud wheezing that accompanied
each blow the whale made when he came
to the surface for fresh air. It was thought
| that the lungs of the whale had become
diseased, but it was afterward found out
that some foreign substance had got into
the hlowhole, and one of the keepers found
a piece of eel floating on the surface of the
water. The true cause of the whales
trouble was then found. It was discov-
ered that a piece of an eel was hanging
from the blowhole. The water was at
ounce drawn off from the tank, but this did
not save the whale, which died in the even-
ing. The whale’s blowhole was examined
after his death, and what appeared to be
part of an eel was found protruding from
it. One of the men started to pull this
out, and he pulled until he got to the end
of an eel about two feet long, which had
become partially digested in the whale'’s
stomach. The eel was preserved in alco-
hol.
A whale is obliged to come to the sur-
face every ten seconds to blow. There is a
| valve in the blowhole which works very
rapidly as the whale exhales the impure
and inhales the fresh air. The whale Selt-
zer took the whole eel into the air passage,
thus preventing the air valve from closing
tightly. By continued wheezing he
pushed more and more of the eel upward,
thus-opening the air valve wider. Finally
the valve became so open that the water
rushed in and flooded the lungs, and Selt-
zer drowned.
——They had a telephone at the farm-
house where I went this summer.
What did they use it for ?
Telephoned to town every day for fruit,
butter and fresh eggs.
The Curious Death of a Whale. ®)
He Was Real Nice:
This Telegraph Clerk, and She Intends to Patron-
ize Him Exclusively.
She sailed into the telegraph office at
Fourth and Vine streets, Cincinnati, re-
cently and rapped on the receiving clerk’s
window. The receiving clerk remembered
that she had been there about ten minutes
before as he came forward to meet her.
He wondered what she wanted this time.
*‘Oh,”’ she said, ‘‘let me have that tele-
gram I wrote just now. I forgot some-
thing very important. I wanted to under-
score the words ‘perfectly lovely’ in ac-
knowledging the receipt of that bracelet.
Will it cost anything extra 2°’
‘No, ma’am,’’ said the the clerk as he
handed her the message.
The young’ lady drew two heavy lines
beneath the words and said :
“It’s awfully good of you to let me do
that. It will please Charlie so much.”
“Don’t mention it,”’ said the clerk. ‘If
you would like, I will put a few drops of
nice violet extract on the telegram at the
same rates.’’
‘Oh, thank you, sir. You don’t know
how much I would appreciate it. I'm go-
ing to send all my telegrams through this
office, you are so obliging.”’
And the smile she gave him would have
done any one good to have seen, with the
possible exception of Charlie.—Cincinnati
Inquirer.
Encountered a Bear.
Charles B. Stewart, mail agent on the
T. & C. R. R., encountered a bear last
week. Mr. Stewart came to Tyrone from
his home at Curwensville Saturday night
and after spending Sunday with relatives
here started just before noon on his bicy-
cle for the return trip. While rounding
the Deep Fill, riding along the railroad
track, he was surprised to see a huge ani-
mal emerge from the woods. It was a sure
enough bear, black as midnight and of
muscular bigness. The bear on coming
faces at Mr. Stewart who was so stupefied
with wonderment that he knew not what
to do. He had no weapon, not even a
pocket knife, and he did not care to enter
into a hugging bee. A bright idea struck
him. He rattled his bicycle and rang the
bell, the sound producing the effect of
startling the bear which executed a couple
of somersaults and tumbled unceremon-
iously down the steep embankment. Mr.
Stewart did not wait for further particulars
but mounting his wheel hastened from the
place. The next time he makes the over-
land trip to Curwensville he will carry a
gun.—7yrone Herald.
A Good Wheel for an Editor's Son.
‘Well, my son,” said the editor of the
Danville Breeze to his son, who wanted a
wheel, ‘‘you’ll find one in the front end of
that wheelbarrow, and there is a big pile of
coal ashes back of the house that will have
to be moved. The handle bars are of white
ash and are adjustable, so you can get any
hump on that suits your fancy. 0
lated largely by the load you put on. The
bigger the load the more you will have to
hump yourself. Be careful you don’t mar
the enamel on your frame, and keep the
ball bearings well oiled so they can’t cut
into the cones. The tire is absolutely
punctureless, so you won’t have to take a
pump and repair kit with you. By the
time you have removed that pile of ashes,
I think you will have made a century run—
also the perspiration. You’d better come
into dinner now.”’
The biggest farm in the world is in the
southwestern part of my State,” said Mu.
P. G. Vinton, of Louisiana at the Norman-
die. “It is owned and operated by a syn-
dicate of Northern capitalists and embraces
1,500,000 acres of land which were origi-
nally a big pasture for cattle. The land is
devoted to the cultivation of cotton, sug-
gar and rice. East and west the estate
extends 100 miles. The Southern Pacific
Railway runs through it for nearly forty
miles. A good deal of attention is paid to
raising cattle, of which the syndicate owns
16,000 head. The company operatessever-
al steamers on the navigable rivers that run
through their mammoth farm, and they
have also rice mills, a shipyard, ice plant
and bank.
——The signiticant statement comes
from San Francisco, that more gold has
been expended on the Pacific coast for out-
fits, supplies and steamship tickets and
other transportation facilities than has yet
been dug out of the Klondyke mines.
That is the way generally on first attacks
thereafter. ~~ A commencement must be
made and it pays well to the few, but the
many suffer. John W. Mackay, the fa-
mous California mining millionaire, who has
had greater experience from the trench to
the palace, speaking of the Klondyke rush
says : ‘My experience is that about one
Cman in ten used to get on in the mining
days in California. I do not mean that one
man in ten became a millionaire, but that
he made a living and a little more.” And
that can he done without going to the
Klondyke.
——The New Jersey ‘‘new’’ woman is
coming to the front rapidly. Last week
the first lawyer of the gentler sex in Cam-
den made an excellent impression by the
manner in which she handled three cases in
the criminal court. She practically won
them all. On the same day a woman in
Jersey City leaped in front of and stopped
a runaway horse, thereby saving the lives
of several children who were playing in the
street. She was dragged two hundred
feet, but retained her hold on the bridle
until the horse stopped. Two weeks ago a
New Jersey girl while gathering berries
walked into a nest of venomous snakes, of
which she killed several. Another young
girl sprang into deep water and rescued
two children from drowning. Such inci-
in New Jersey there are heroines as well as
summer resorts, good roads, ‘‘lightning’’
floods and mosquitoes.
——The returns of the internal revenue
burean for the past fiscal year show a
marked falling off in the per capita con-
sumption of alcoholic liquors in this
country, the receipts on account of the rec-
tifiers’ special tax alone indicating a
shrinkage of 8 per cent. Nor was the de-
i cline due to the competition of beer, for the
tax on heer stamps has fallen off $1,297,-
778 in the period under consideration, rep-
resenting 1,400,000 fewer barrels of unfer-
mented liquor. Again, the receipts from
tobacco show that there has been a decided
falling off in the. use of cigars, but a con-
siderable increase in smoking tobacco,
cigarettes and snuff. Evidently the hard
times have had a sobering and a saving ef-
| fect upon the people,
from the bushes caught sight of the wheel-
man and sitting upon his haunches made |
It is regu- |
One Farm that Contains 1,500,000 Acres. |
of the gold fever, but conditions improve
dents as these serve to call attention that i
A Step Backward in Education in Fer-
guson Township.
At a meeting of the Ferguson township
patched business in such a way that we can
| offices which they are pretending to fill.
The most humiliating thing which they did
was to lower the teachers wages from $28 to
$26 per month.
In Ferguson township it does not matter
whether the applicant holds a provisional, a
professional or a permanent certificate, a
Normal or a College diploma he will receive
| the magnificent sum of twenty-six dollars
. per month. This is why we have such a
| poor system of schools in this township, not
because we do not have the home talent but
because the old reliable teachers either seek
positions where they will receive living
wages or else drift into other professions.
Is this township so poor that we are not
able to pay the enormous (?) sum of twenty-
eight dollars per month? I dare say not.
Is it because their teachers did not earn all
they received as a compensation for last
year’s work ? No, because almost without an
exception the schools were a success last
term. Isit because the board of directors
are spending their appropriation for length-
ening the school term, for equiping the
schools with better apparatus and with im-
proving the school grounds? Let us see.
The school term is six months, the minimum
length fixed by law. The apparatus is some-
thing we do not have, except a small globe
six inches in diameter, a reprint of Websters’
first dictionary which can be bought for 95c.,
and a small chart. No maps except a State
map and some others which were printed
about 1839. This is the material a teacher is
expected to teach school with in this town-
ship. The school grounds have not been im-
proved any worth mentioning.
If our appropriations is lowered then our
| school board wonders why this is done,
| Reader can you understand? Directors
| wake up. We have been sleeping too long,
It is a shame and a disgrace that a township
like this should be so far behind. This isa
blot upon the pages of our history which can
never be effaced.
You expect your teachers to keep up with
the times, then pay them wages which will
enable them to qualify themselves as they
should. Pay better wages. Hire a better
grade of teachers. With good wages the best
of teachers are at your command.
| Why can’t we have a township High
: school where a college graduate could pre-
pare our boysand girls to enter Pennsylvania
State College. Let us go forward instead of
{ backward. If we had a good school in the
township we could give our children a col-
lege course for less than it would cost to send
them away to school for one year. They do
this in other places, why can’t we ? Because
we are afraid of the taxes. Could we give
our children a better legacy than a good edu-
cation ?
Our directors, C. B. Hess, Jacob Harpster,
Dr. M. L, Houser, John Musser, Jacob
Strouse and J. G. Fortney are to be compli-
mented for the adoption of a uniform course
of study and for changing the grammars but
oh ! there isso much more that we need.
A CrTIzEN.
Countess Challenged God.
|
Seedling Forced Open Her Thumb on Which Was Grau-
en Defiance.
“Inthe town of Hanover, Germany,’
| Evangelist Moody writes in his Bible class
discourse in the August ladies’ Home Jour-
nal, ‘‘there is buried a German Countess
| who denied the existence of God and ridi-
| culed the idea of the resurrection. To fur-
| ther show her contempt for Christianity she
| ordered that on her death her grave should
| be built up of solid masonry and covered by
| large stones bound together by iron clamps.
{ On this tomb was engraved her defiant chal-
| lenge that through eternity this tomb should
never be disturbed.
| ‘‘But one day the seed from some tree,
| either blown by the wind or carried hy
| a bird, became lodged in a small crevice of
| the tomb, where soon it sprouted and began
i to grow. And then, as if nature had seem-
| ed to mock the haughty infidel, she quietly
| extended the delicate roots of that seedling
| under the massive hlocks of stone and slow-
ly raised them from their place. And
now, although scarce [our generations are
passed since that tomb was sealed, that
most insignificant seedling has accomplished
what God Himself was challenged to ac-
complish.
German Glass Eyes.
Millions are Manufactured in the County Every
Year.
It is stated on German authority that
the astounding number of 2,000,000 glass
eyes are made every year in Germany and
Switzerland, while one French house
manufactures 300,000 of them annually.
| The pupil is made of colored glass, and
some times red lines are painted on the
inner surface to simulate the veins. The
largest number of these eyes are hought by
laborers who are exposed to fire, and are
consequently liable to lose an eye. An ar-
tificial eye rarely lasts more than five years
as the secretions of the lachrymal glands
cloud the surface of the glass.
WHAT ToMymy Samp.—Uncle John—
Well, what do you mean to be when you
‘get to be a man ?
Little Tommy (promptly)—A doctor,
like pa.
Uncle John (quizzically )—Indeed ; and
which do you intend to be, an allopath or
a homeeopath ?
Little Tommy—1I don’t know what them
awful big words mean, Uncle John ; but
that don’t make any difference, ’cause I
ain’t goin’ to be either of ‘em. I'm: just
{ goin’ to be a family doctor an’ give all my
| patients Hood's Sarsaparilla, ‘cause my
| pa says that if he is a doctor, he’s ’bliged
| to own up that Hood's Sarsaparilla is the
! best family medicine he ever saw in his
life.
——DMrs. Homespun (indignantly )—
‘‘Here’s an article says that in Formosa n
wife costs $5.7
Mr. Homespun (thoughtfuliy)—¢‘“Wal,
a good wife is wuth it.” ,
——He’s inconsolate over the loss of his
recently patented fire extinguisher.
Indeed, how was it lost ?
Burned up in his house,
——— Subscribe for the WATCHMAN.
judge the efficiency of these men for the |
|
school board on July 31st, the directors dis- |
|
|
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
The Lehigh Valley Medical association,
at the annual meeting, held at the Gap
elected Dr. Mary Greenwald, of Strouds-
burg, president. She is the first woman
president elected by the organization.
A favorite skirt garniture is made by ar-
ranging tiny ruffles in clusters of three
from the edge to the knee. and if the short-
ening effect is becoming, all the way to the
waist. Another fashion is to simulate a
pointed, round overskirt with three little
ruffles. If the ruches, one of this season’s
novelties, are preferred they are quite as
much used as ruffles ; only for the latter
style they are rather more bunchy.
For autumn dress waists a modification
of the fichu and surplice effects of this sum-
mer will supersede the short jacket and
soft blouse styles now so much worn.
This bodice will drape over the shoulders,
hiding the shoulder blades and then being
drawn forward and knotted on the bust.
‘‘How shall I perform an introduction ?’’
inquires a girl who likes to do things grace-
fully and who is entirely right in her
notion that for most things there is a right
way and also a wrong way.
Introducing people is neither difficult
nor occult, and 1t requires no special train-
ing. There are very few simple rules to be
observed. You present a gentleman to a
lady, and a younger to an older person.
You are careful to speak clearly and dis-
tinetly, for nothing is more embarrassing
than to have a stranger’s name mumbled
so that it remains unknown, thus defeating
the end of the introduction. You do not
say : ‘‘Mamma, let me present my class-
mate,’’ leaving your mother to guess at the
part of your speech which was really the
most important ; you say : “My classmate
Miss Leonard.” And, equally, when you
are introducing Miss Leonard to your
friend, you not say : ‘Alice, may I intro-
duce my cousin Sophie?’ in which case
neither young woman would have the least
idea of more than the other’s Christian
name. If a personage—professor or doc-
tor or clergymen or in any way noted or
famous-—the tactful young girl makes the
title a part of her introduction, so that the
people presented to him are aware that
that they are honored by the new acquaint-
ance.
The newest skirts are made very tight-
fitting over the hips, but flaring very much
at the bottom. They are trimmed in var-
ious ways, with bias folds, graded ruffles
and bands. They are tied back very close
around the figure. The newest of these
new shapes for skirts isa three-piece bell
design with a bias seam down the back.
The smartest fall gowns will have their
skirts shaped after this model.
All oily lotions for the face should be
avoided, as they encourage the growth of
downy hairs and make the skin shiny.
For chaps and sunburn there is nothing
better than a tablespoonful of oatmeal sim-
mered in a cupful of hot water. Strain
and add an equal quantity of lemon juice.
This is very healing and at the same time
softens and whitens the skin. There is no
beautifier like cleanliness, and all the
balms and creams in the world will not
conceal the effects of dirt.
For evening gowns, black and white
striped silks are very popular, and when
the waists are trimmed with big chiffon
fichus are extremely becoming. A narrow
striped gown has the skirt trimmed with
bands of black velvet ribbon put on in
points. The waist has a Marie Antoinette
fichu edged with Valenciennes lace rufiles
and caught up on one shoulder with a
black velvet bow, while the ends of the
fichu are left to fall at full length down on-
to the skirt. A belt of black velvet ribbon
has long ends which are trimmed with jet
fringe. Another black and white silk, this
with broader stripe has no trimming on the
skirt, and the waist is trimmed with ruf-
fles edged with black velvet ribbon, put on
to form a bertha. A pointed belt of black
velvet is fastened with rhinestone or steel
buckles. For morning wear the black and
white striped dimities, enlivened with
bright collars and sashes, have a distinctly
smart look that insures their popularity.
One model has a flounced skirt and a very
full waist, well drawn in at the belt. The
sleeves are shirred and have three rufiles at
the top. Belt and collar are of red velvet,
and the gown, while not expensive, has all
the effect of a silk.
For tired feet put a handful of common
salt into four quarts of hot water. Place
the feet in the water while it is hot as it
may be borne. Then rub the feet dry with
a rough towel. For neuralgia, in the face
or jaw, a flannel bag filled with very hot
salt, heated in a pan, applied frequently,
and with the head kept well covered, will
relieve it.
Bodices are as much trimmed as ever,
the chief novelty being that ruffles, frill-
ings and so on, are put no longer in the
middle of the front of the bodice, but on
the left side. For instance, a dress of cal-
fat cloth has a bodice quite plain on the
right side, and trimmed down the left with
alternate flutings of white and black chif-
fon, three in all, the white in the middle.
There is however, an epaulette of the same
flutings on the right side. Strips of black
or white lace insertion, and patterns of the
same worked in applique, are the trim-
mings most in favor, although rendzring
the fashion of a dress most elaborate and
very expensive. The insertion is no lon-
ger laid on over the material, but sown in-
to it in very fine overcast stitch. You may
imagine what an an amount of needlework
represents one of those pretty dresses of
mull muslin, at least six yards wide in the
lower part of the skirt, trimmed in this
way with ten or twelve strips of lace inser-
tion, sometimes merely put on in circles,
but often arranged in elaborate patterns
which increase ten fold the difficulty of the
work.
When learning to climb stairs hygienic-
ally as well as gracefully, the novice must
remember to hold the body erect, extend
the chest and fill the lungs with air. Bal-
ancing some small article on the head helps
to maintain the proper position at first.
When she has acquired the art of climbing
stairs she should study the refinement of
sitting. To begin with she will have to
abandon the idea that a chair or divan pre-
sents an opportunity for relaxation—a sort
of going to pieces of the figure. In sitting,
as in climbing, the chest should be held so
that the organs may be in a position to per-
form their functions. Bending forward at
the waist line, a feminine trick, by the
way, is an injurious pose, cramping as it
does the lungs and stomach and producing
dyspepsia. Still another womanly fad is
lounging in a chair upon the end of the
spine. This is a very had habit, quite as
harmful as sitting on the foot.