Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 20, 1897.
SEVEN TIMES.
There's no dew on the daisies and clover,
There's no rain left in heaven ;
I’ve said my “seven times’ over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
I am old, so old, I can write a letter;
My birthday lessons are done,
The lambs play always, they know no better ;
They are only one times one.
O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing
And shining so round and low;
You were bright! ah bright but your light is
failing—
You are nothing now but a bow.
You moon, have done something wrong in
heaven
That God has hidden your face?
I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven,
And shine again in your piace.
0 velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow,
You've powdered your legs with gold !
0 brave marsh marybuds, rich and yellow,
Give me your money to hold.
0 columbine, open your folded wrapper,
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell !
0 enckoo pint, tell me the purple clapper
That hangs in your clear green bell.
And show me your nest with the young ones
in it;
I will not steal them away :
[ am old you may trust me linnet, linnet— {
[ am seven times one to-day.—Jean Ingelow.
IN A TOMATO HOUSE,
A white shawl was wrapped round her
head, making her face look very childlike.
An utter listlessness was in every line of
her unbeautiful figure as she sat on the log
stool in the tomato house.
He came in so quietly that she did not
notice his entrance ; he was used to come
and go when he liked, and understood the
peculiarities of the stiff old lock.
Thus he saw her and she really was, not
as she would be if she knew that the eyes
of a spectator were upon her ; saw the true
nature in all its transparency, freed from
thie crampy cumbersome vestments of con-
ventionality.
He had seen her hundreds of times, ever
since she was 12 years old ; now she was
one and twenty.
He had followed every stage in her devel-
opment, watched every new unfolding of
her mental powers, noticed every budding
tendency, and predicted their blossoming
into action.
He had flattered himself he knew her.
Now it was proved to him that he did not.
In the frail, drooping heap before him
he could not recognize his friend and critic;
calm, intellectual and strong, with a
strength that made him shiver when he
felt it, and wrung from him the cry of in-
stinetive masculine distaste :
“Strong? Yes! too strong
woman !”’
The sweet, unselfish sympathy, and ready,
eager interest he knew so well and had
grown to look for as a matter of course,
where were they ?
The deep, unfathomable smile of those
dark, luminous eyes, that was not a rev-
elation of feeling, but a screen ; gone!
The quick alertness that spoke of fiercely
burning vitality—departed utterly.
Her profile, he had told himself over
and over again, was too heavy. What?
It was almost transparent in the delicacy
of its outline.
Her mouth was toc firm. Firm? It
trembled with a weary, hopeless, down-
ward curve.
Her hair was dark and lustreless, and
straight ; unlovely quite.
It clung to a head that was wonderfully
molded and poised, throwing out the utter
whiteness of a skin so fine that the purple
blood veins showed plainly underneath.
She put her hand up wearily to smooth
back a stray strand of hair. The move-
ment, slight as it was, brought a pink
flush to her cheeks, her hand fell ; she
was conscious of no change.
But he was. For nine years he had
known, admired, esteemed, revered, con-
sulted, scolded, chaffed and tortured her.
What her splendid honesty, her won-
derful clear-sightedness, her intellectual
face, her absolute unaffectedness, her pure
soul, her deep sympathy could never do,
that glimpse of womanly weakness did.
He loved her.
Till then he had held his breath, hut as
the knowledge came upon him, he gave a
deep, long-drawn gasp that was half won-
der and half joy.
She stirred slightly, raised her heavy,
fringed lids, their eyes met. .
His were full of light, but they drew no
answering flash from hers. 7
Perhaps he never noticed that.
did it caused him no uneasiness.
He sat down beside her on the old log ;
and because he was impetuous by nature
and never waited for a favorable season,
but acted as the impulse urged him, and
because he was too truthful to soften the
edges of a fact, or clothe itin more words
than decency demands, he looked at her,
and said, in tones that were monotonous
from restrained emotion :
‘Annie, I love you.”
For a moment she made no sign of move-
ment, gave no hint that she had heard or
understood.
Then she calmly looked at him and said :
“Iam very sorry.”
Out burst the full flood of horror-strick-
en protest, fervent vows and humble
prayers.
She heard it all, unchanged, unmoved.
He begged, he coaxed. he commanded.
He failed to arouse her.
Then love made him wise, and he said
calmly and confidently :
‘You loved me once. = I know you did.”
The blood rushed to her cheeks and
brow in crimson-tide ; then, not to be out-
done, in truthfulness, she answered :
“Yes, I did once ; I do now.”
His cry of joy was checked by the sight
of her sunlit eyes, and the sound of her |
unmoved voice.
He felt a chill seize his heart, he faltered:
*“Then why do you act so strangely ?”’
She stooped down and slowly loosened a
tomato plant from the box of seedings by
her side, drawing it out root and all,
and she held it in the hollow of her hand.
He watched her in silent wonder.
“If that had grown all its life in the
dark, what would it have heen like?’ she
asked.
_ “White, and weak, and puny and nearly
lifeless,’” he answered, still wondering.
Yes,” she said, with her strange, be-
wildering smile. *‘I am like that ; my
love grew in. the dark eight years—it is
white and feeble now.”
‘The plant would grow green if put in
for a
If he
— | cried, taking her in his arms.
the light ; it isn’t too late even now,’’ he
pleaded. ‘‘The power is there, and the
sunshine is ready and warm.”’
“Yes, it is there,” she answered, ‘‘but
from darkness to fierce sunlight, what hap-
pens ? A short struggle ; a quick death.”
“My darling! This is nonsense !”’ he
*‘I. have
been a mad fool ; the past is gone, and
nothing can give us back its wasted hours ;
but the present and the future are still
ours to live. Nature can make such fool-
ish laws ; I will break them,’”’ and he bent
and kissed her lips.
A light shone in her eyes, her breath
came quick, her color flamed, her love
sprang into perfect life—she kissed him.
—PFrom the Lady.
Where Klondyke Is.
Its Name, Story and Some of the Big Finds of Gold.
An interesting letter telling of the recent
trip of the steamer Excelsior to Alaska has
been written by Captain J. F. Higgins, of
the steamer. to a friend in San Diego, Cal.
He says :
“The word Klondyke means Deer river,
and is called Reindeer river on the charts.
It empties into the Yukon fifty miles above
the Big river. The geographical position
of the junction is 76 degrees 10 minutes
north latitude, 138 degrees 50 minutes
west longitude. Bonanza creek dumps
into Klondyke about two miles above the
Yukon. El Dorado is a tributary of the
Bonanza. There are numerous other
creeks and tributaries, the main river be-
ing 300 miles long. The gold so far has
been taken from Bonanza and El Dorado,
both well named, for the richness of the
placers is truly marvelous. El Dorado,
thirty miles long, is staked the whole
| length, and so far as worked has paid.
“One of our passengers, whois taking
$1,000,000 with him, has worked 100 feet
of his ground. He refused $200,000 for
the remainder, and confidently expects to
clean up $400,000 and more. He has in a
bottle $212 from one pan of dirt. His pay
dirt, while being washed, averaged $250
an hour to each man shoveling it. Two
others of our miners who worked their
own claims ‘cleaned up $6,000 from the
day’s washing. There is about 15 feet of
direct above bed rock, the pay streak aver-
aging from four to six feet, which is tun-
neled out while the ground is frozen.
course, the ground taken out is thawed by
building fires. When the thaw comes and
water rushes in they set their sluices and
wash the dirt. Two of our fellows thought
a small bird in the band worth a large one
in the bush, and sold their claims for $45,-
000, getting $4,500 down, the remainder
to be paid in monthly installments of $10,-
000 each. The purchasers had no more
than $5,000 paid. They were twenty days
thawing and getting out dirt. Then there
was no water to sluice with. But one fel-
low made a rocker, and in ten days took
out the $10,000 for the first installment.
So, tunneling and rockering, they took out
$40,000 before there was water to sluice
with.
“Of course, these things read like the
story of Aladdin. But fiction is not at all
in it with facts at Klondyke. The ground
located and prospected can he worked out
ina few years. But there is still an im-
mense territory untouched, and the labor-
ing man who can get there with one year’s
provisions will have a better chance to
make a stake than in any other part of the
world.”
West Point.
The Radical Defect in Uncle Sam's Great Military
Acadeniy.
or
¥
The military academy was founded not
so much for the purpose of furnishing offi-
cers to fill the vacancies in the regular
army as to create a kind of reserve of offi-
cers which the government would be able
to draw upon in case of war. Congress
has not carried out this intention of the
founders for a variety of reasons. Econ-
omy was one, but as the military academy |
costs little more per annum than a full
regiment of cavalry this reason is not suffi-
cient. Another reason is the jealousy of
West Pointers as a favored class, who in
time of war are selected for high command
over the heads of men lacking military
education or experience. But these rea-
sons are supplemented by another and a
stronger one, and that is that West Point-
ers, as a class, have not favored such an in-
crease in the number of cadets graduated
as would make it difficult to provide all
graduates with commissions as officers. In
this respect they may be said to have lost
sight of the paramount needs of the coun-
try in their anxiety for the interests of
their asscciates.
The cadet at West Point has a great
prize in view—a commission. It is a
stimulus to a tremendous effort.
ard of education there would be lowered.
The officers of the army have not combated
this view. While they prize above all
things the training received at West Point,
while as professional soldiers they see more | large as in less settled times, when the
clearly than any other class the danger the | Romany was forced to travel in large num-
country runs in having so few educated | bers for self-protection. A very large band
officers, they so strongly sympathize with | is the famous one of which old Chivodine
the desire of the undergraduate to obtain a | Lovel is the chief.
commission that they have notseen their | band comes North and camps between
way to recommending a policy that would
possibly exclude some graduates from the
army.
nish a hody of officers of respectable size
for the emergency of war, or even an out-
put sufficient for the army, seems to be
conducted not for the glory of the repub-
lic, but of West Point.—Captain James
Parker, U. S. A., in Harper's Magazine.
Three Horses Dead.
They Broke into a Barn and Ate Too Much New | Cincinnati and Cleveland.
Wheat.
Three fine horses are lying dead in a
field near the home of Edward Clayton,
near Chadd’s Ford, all having died from
the effects of eating too much new wheat,
which they got after forcing their way
into the barn on the premises.
The horses were the property of Mr.
| Clayton, and his loss is a heavy one, all
the animals being as fine as any to be
found in that section of the county. A
couple of days ago the wheat on the farm
was threshed and a large amount of it was
left on the floor of the barn. The door of
the building leading to the main fioor was
partly left open yesterday and the horses
pushed it wide enough to gain an entrance
after which they ate all the wheat they
could store away in their interior. A short
time afterwards one of them was noticed
to be ill and it was soon found that the
wheat was the cause. A veterinary was
summoned, but he could do little to re-
lieve the animal, and it died in a short
time. Soon afterwards the others suc-
cumbed.
——Usually the victims of squalid pover-
ty in this country are newly arrived immi-
grants or the descendants of chronic pau-
pers, who were born without the disposi-
tion or desire to make their way in the
world.
I i
Of |
| its famous white doorsteps) ; Pureno-Gav
1 ) ’
The in- | city, Chicago ;
structors at West Point have been fearful | town, Brooklyn ; Beluni-Gav, or Queen
that this stimulus once removed the stand- | city, Washington, and Matchcneskoe-Gav,
|
|
| Newark and Elizabeth, N. J. These
Lovels are over sixty in number. At one
And thus it happens that the mili- | time they were suspected of having abduct-
tary academy, failing, as it does, to fur- | ed Charley Ross, but the fair-haired hoy
|
|
THE AMERICAN GYPSY.
est living authority upon the American
gypsy. He has just contributed to the
New York Sun some of the conclusions he
has reached concerning them. He claims
that the race shows no sign of extinction
and is as strong and as numerous to-day as
it has ever been. ‘‘The gypsies,’’ says he.
‘‘came originally from Hindustan. The
migration of the race occurred during the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The
sobriquet ‘Egyptian,’ which they assum-
ed, was, it is supposed, owing to their
temporary sojourn in Egypt. The name
Romany ethnologists derive from the Hin-
durom, a man. Armed with protecting
letters from one or more of the Popes they
appeared in Germany, and thereafter
swarmed over Europe. I cannot say when
they first came to America, but certain it
is that they were not long after the first
white colonists. Spain sent her Zincali to
Mexico, while from France and England
gypsy families crossed the Atlantic in pur-
suance of their roaming instincts. There
are many thousands of them in the United
States, and they permeate all branches of
society. I know of an eminent and re-
spected Episcopal clergyman in Boston
who has Romany blood in his veins. Once
a year the old wandering fever comes over
this good man, and then, hey presto! the
pulpit is temporarily abandoned and he
follows the pattrin trail, or lounges con-
tentedly among his kindred in the shade
of the caravan tent. In many of our cities
there are wealthy men and women, mil-
lionaires and so-calied ‘society people,’
who are Romany-chals (gypsy men) or
Romany-chis (gvpsy girls), and who can-
not resist following the pattrin when sum-
mer time comes round. But, of course,
the great majority of the race live in their
caravans all the year round, telling for-
tunes and trading in horses for a living—
going South with the approach of winter,
and returning Northward when summer is
at hand. A generation or two ago polyg-
amy was practiced among them in isolated
cases, but to-day it exists no longer. An
American gypsy has only one wife, and a
very good husband he generally makes
her. He is an excellent father, too. In
all my long experience I have never seen a
Romany father beat his offspring.
*
“Since the death of Mitilda Stanley II.,
of Dayton, Ohio, a few years ago, the
American gypsies have had no generally
recognized queen. This Matilda succeed-
ed her aunt of the same name, Matilda
be remembered. The Irish-American and
German-American gypsies have rulers of
their own. There are 760 families of Ger-
man-American Romanys, and their queen
is Sophia Freyer, a Romany-chi of nearly
80 years. For many years old John Gor-
man was king of the Irish-American Rom-
any. He was succeeded by his wife, Queen
Bridget, who in turn gave place to her son,
Bartley Gorman, the present king. King
John Gorman and Queen Bridget came to
New York from Ireland in the forties,
bringing with them their wagons. Since
| then they have roamed the country over
and multiplied greatly. Their chief voca-
tion is horse-trading. Henry Palmer, a
millionaire gypsy of San Francisco, who
claimed to have succeeded Matilda Stanley
II. as sovereign of all the Romanys in
America, died in 1894. His giant form
and great wealth made him a familiar per-
sonage in California. All the gypsy fam-
ilies have two names, i. e., their Romany
patronymic and its equivalent in the lan-
guage of their adopted country. Here, as
in England, the principal families are the
Lees, Stanleys, Hernes, Lovels, Grays,
Smiths, Whartons, Caulfields, Bucklands
and Costellos. In Romany the first seven
of these families are known respectively as
Purrums, or leeks; Barmescro, or stone
people ; Caumloes, or love makers ; Grys,
or horse people ; Vardomescro, or wheel-
wrights, and Petulengroes, or horse shoers.
It will be se:n that in translating their
Romany names they generally attempted
to play upon words, when they could not
find the exact equivalents. In the same
way the gypsies have Romany names for
most of the big cities in England and this
country. They are quite apposite, too, as
may be judged by the following short list
picked up around camp fires and caravans ;
Kanlo-Gav, or Black-town, Pittsburg ;
Boro-Gav, or Big-town, New York ; Lev-
inor-Gav, or Beer-town, Milwaukee and
St. Louis ; Paunomengo, or White city,
| Philadelphia (so-called, I suppose, from
or Old-town, Boston ; Sig-mengo, or Quick
Pudge-Gav, or Bridge-
or Fish-town, applied to Gloucester, Mass.,
and other seacoast towns.
*
“The nomadic gypsy bands are not so
Every year Lovel’s
found in their camp and supposed to be
|
|
i
|
Stanley I., whose great funeral and vast |
horde of gypsies that attended it will still |
i
|
|
| any ; but the second calls for explanation.
| little Ross was proved a nephew of old
| Chivodine, and is now heir apparent to
| the chieftancy. Chief Stanley’s big family
| yearly encamps on Crow Hill, Kings coun-
ty, N. Y. In the suburbs of Denver, Col.,
the gypsies ruled by Mrs. Caroline Smith
meet annually, while branches of the Stan-
ley family of Ohio encamp near Dayton,
“The pattrin is the code of signs by
which gypsies tell each other the road to
be followed. The word comes from the
Sancrit pattra, a leaf ; and the commonest
form of pattrin is the scattering of little
tufts of grass or tiny bundles of leaves
along the route pursued. Straw, sticks,
pebbles and crosses in the earth are also |
used. The form of pattrin for night guid-
ance is the placing of a small forked stick
upward in the ground, with a smaller
stick poised in the cleft to show the direc-
tion. Nowadays, however, the gypsies
are getting so unromantic that they do a
great deal of telegraphing. Oddly enough
the great gypsy exchanges in the various
cities are livery stables and pawnbrekers’
shops. The first fact is explicable when
one recalls the horse trading of the Rom-
Gypsies are the pawnbrokers’ best custom-
ers. They buy lavishly all sorts of gold,
gilver and amber and cowrie ornaments,
and nearly all their dealing is done with
the pawnshops. The gypsy woman has an
oriental taste in jewelry, and every Rom-
any-chi possesses a box full of trinkets,
especially in silver, amber and (inheritance
from Hindu ancestors) cowrie beads. The
pawnbrokers keep in touch with the vari-
ous caravans, and at the sign of the three
golden balls the Romany learns the where-
abouts of relatives and friends.
* *
“It is difficult indeed to win the gypsy’s
confidence. He is distrustful of the Gor-
Paul Kester is unquestionably the great- | gig or Gentile, by whom he has been per-
secuted, whom in turn he has hated and
preyed upon for ages. It took me four
long years to break the ice with a single
Romany family ; but, once broken, the
rest was easy. Very soon I had a good
colloquial knowledge of Romany. My
friendship with the one family, and my
acquaintance with the mystic pattrin code,
proved adequate introductions to the
gypsies everywhere. The American gypsy,
as a rule, has no real religion. Frequently
he ostensibly follows some faith, but he
does it with his tongue in his cheek. Their
word for God is Deva, or Devel, from the
Sanscit deva, a deity ; but the word has
to them little or no significance. Broadly
speaking, they are pagans. Yet supersti-
tion exists among them, though they effect
to sneer at the spells and incantations with
which their tricksters deceive the Gorgios.
Many curious customs prevail among our
Romanys. For instance, it is common
among the Colorado and California gypsy
women while secretly conniving at the
marriage of their daughter apparently op-
pose the suitor’s advances bitterly. This
nécessitates an elopment ; after which the
young pair, having shown their Romany
spirit, are welcomed back to the maternal
tent pole. Their cooking and eating
habits are often odd enough. For pork
they have a great fondness, and in old
times they were accustomed when passing
a farm house to ‘drab the baulo’ (poison
the pig) and beg the carcass from the farm-
er. The poison known as ‘drab’ is one of
the Romany secrets. It is a curious drug
which affects only the animal’s brain, leav-
ing the rest of the body unpoisoned. Many
old Romany-chals have admitted to me
that they stiil occasionally yield to the
temptation of ‘drabing the baulo’ and
thereby obtaining fresh pork. English
gypsies smack their lips over the memories
of toasted atchiwitchi, or hedgehog. The
gypsy way to cook a fowl is to do it up,
feathers and all. in clay, and bake it in the
heart of the fire, for a little more tnan
thirty minutes. The clay is then removed,
taking with it the feathers, the fowl is
cleaned and the feast is ready. Yorkshire
gudding, apple dumplings and other Eng-
lish dishes are great favorites with the
gypsies. Insofar as I know him (and I
may safely say that I know him well) the
American gppsy is one of nature’s gentle-
men—courteous, considerate and a loyal,
sacrificing friend to his friends. The av-
erage Gorgio, of course, the Romany dis-
likes and distrusts ; but win the gypsy’s
affection, and you keep it always.
vagrant tendencies of the race can never he
crushed out. They are in the blood, bred
in the bone, of the true Romany. So long
as the pure gypsy strain exists,chal and chi
will follow the pattrin, tell fortunes, trade
horses, woo the Gorgio’s gold, and sleep
with the broad arch of heaven for their
canopy.
# *
*
Do not confound these people with the
American gyp, or horse-sharper. The lat-
ter’s name is of gypsy origin, but he is. in-
teresting only when he is in jail, where he
belongs,—Megargee in the Philadelphia
Times.
Spain’s Condition.
The concensus of public opinion, says
the assassination of Canovas is the begin-
ning of the end of the Cuban war if not of
the Spanish dynasty itself. The killing,
as dastardly as was the taking off of the
Prime Minister, is generally considered a
just retribution for Spain’s cruelty, and
the wonder is expressed a heavy blow had
not been struck before. Canovas gone,
there is no one left to take his place and
steer the ship state safely amid the troub-
led sea that threatens to engulf her. That
Spain is a decaying, if not a dead mon-
archy, there is every evidence. That she
is bankrupt it is not necessary to prove ;
the fact speaks for itself. The Cuban war
has cost her $200,000,000, aud her finan-
cial strait has reached a point where she
can borrow no more. The European pow-
ers will not be likely to come to her aid,
as she will be unable to hand over a quid
pro quo for any support. Compared with
her situation a hundred years ago, Spain’s
condition is most lamentable. Then she
was richer in Colonies than any other Euro-
pean power. She owned the whole of
South and Central America except Brazil
and Patigonia ; while in North America
she owned Mexico, the Floridas, Louisiana
and Texas, and, at a later period, disputed
with us the ownership of the great expanse
| of country between the Mississippi and
y pp
Missouri and the shore of the Pacific. All
these vast regions paid tribute to Spain,
and, in doing this, she literally sucked the
life blood from them. To-day she does
not own a foot of ground on the continent
of America ; all her vast income from this
source is cut off, and she is practically a
beggar among nations. Some even
Spain will hazard a war with the United
States, in the hope it may rally the Span-
ish people around the tottering throne and
thereby gain a lease of life. Such a war
would have a different ending : it would
strip her of every foot of her possessions in
the West Indies, and reduce her to an hope-
less condition.
Won by the Rabbi.
Jones was on his last legs.
was a matter of but a few days for him,
so he sent for three ministers, a Presby-
terian, a Methodist, and a Jewish rabbi,
and toid them that if they each put $100
in his coffin he would leave them $5,000
each in his will. He died shortly after,
and the day after he was buried the Meth- !
odist minister met the Presbyterian and
asked him if he had put his $100 in the
casket.
“I did,”’ said the Presbyterian minister.
“In what form did you put it in?”
asked the Methodist ninister.
“In five twenty-dollar gold pieces.”
“Well, you'll get vour $5,000.’
‘How did you put yours in?"
“I put in a crisp new $100 bill.”’
“Well, you'll get your $5,000, too.
Just then they saw the rabbi across the
street, and they called him over and asked
him in what form he had put his $100 in
the casket.
“I put in my check for $300 and took
out the change.”’
vy
A dash of cold, wordly knowledge, re-
marks Youth's Companion, falls occasional-
ly like a wet blanket on a gnsi: of warm
sentiment, and leaves nothing nore to be
said.
A young man who had gone to the great
city to make his fortune had written home
to tell of his unexpected success in finding
a job.
“I have great hopes of Archie,’ said the
mother, looking over the letter for the fifth
or sixth time, ‘‘if he only won’t fall into
expensive habits!”
“I don’t think he will, Matilda,” re-
plied the father. “I don’t think he will
—on nine dollars a week.”
The |
say |
In fact, it!
Gold in the Alleghenies.
A somewhat startling and sensational
| article entitled ‘‘Gold in the Alleghenies”
appeared in a Philadelphia contemporary
asspecial news. The article occupied two-
thirds of a column, and stated that a com-
pany had been formed some little time
ago, with a capitalization of $1,000,000 ;
it was announced that work had been
started on a large scale.
This is by no means the first time that
such announcements were made ; and we
feel called upon te advise great caution on
the part of any reader who may be inclin-
ed to credit these statements, even though
they should appear in one of the most re-
liable journals in the world. We venture
to make the assertion that if inquiry should
be made of the present Assayer of the Mint
at Philadelphia he could unfold many a
sad tale of disappointed hopes on the part
of farmers and others in this State who
have been deceived by schemes of profit
from supposed discoveries of gold on their
properties.
During the lifetime of two of the former
Assayers of the Philadelphia Mint—Messrs.
Eckfeldt and DuBois—many such in-
stances occurred, and the excitement did
not die out until a positive statement had
been issued to the effect that while traces
of finely divided particles of gold, deposit-
ed with the silt when the waters subsided
ages ago, can be discovered by careful
analysis, the geological formation of the
State of Pennsylvania is unfavorable to the
discovery of gold-bearing quartz in paying
quantities.
About fifteen years ago a prosperous-
looking farmer from the interior of the
State appeared at the Mint in Philadelphia
with an old-fashioned carpet bag filled
with samples of what he believed to be rich
golden nuggets and gold quartz. A glance
from the expert assayer was sufficient to
identify the samples as pyrites, or ‘‘fools’
gold.”
trated when informed of this, and said that
for a few
More recently (about eight years ago)
mysterious operations were commenced on
a farm on the border of the Welsh moun-
tains, not far from Coatesville, and a shaft
was sunk to a considerable depth, the work
having been conducted inside of an in-
closure protected from curious eyes by a
high board fence. This proved tobe a
gold speculation. and ended disastrously to
all who were credulous enough to invest in
| the scheme. Many other similar cases are
| known.
We are not in a position to deny the dis-
covery of gold quartz in paying quantities
in Pennsylvania ; but we do say unhesi-
tatingly that if this latest announcement
should prove to be true the geologists of
Pennsylvania would have to revise their
observations hased on the experience of
| generations. If it be the desire of the own-
ers of this new ‘‘mine of wralth’’ to pre-
vent a rush of outside investors this article
‘may be of little assistance to them. If,
however, the opposite intention lie beneath
the surface we shall not regret having made
an effort, at least, to induce extreme cau-
tion before investing, lest the discoveries
may prove to be but fools’ gold.
The Ship Went Down.
| Coming Home From Alaska the ‘‘Mexico" Strikes a
Rock.
trance of Sitka harbor at 4 o’clock on the
morning of August 5, had been running at |
half speed because of the dense fog, until a
few moments before a rock was struck. |
Pilot Connell then rang for full steam |
ahead and thereafter there was a terrible |
shock on the starboard side. So great was
the momentum that the ship was carried |
through the reef, which it is believed,
water heyond.
of the crew and without the slightest con- |
fusion the seventy passengers on board
were safely placed in the ship’s boats. Scon
after the vessel struck the heavy fog clear-
ed, and it was bright and sunshiny before |
she went down.
There was no excitement on board. The
passengers and watch below were awaken-
| ed by the shock. The alarm was quickly |
given and all were quickly dressed and
reassured by the coolness of the officers
and awaited their turn to enter the boats.
The vessel was valued at about $100,000.
For several days anxious inquiries have
heen made regarding the Pacific Coast |
Steamship company’s ship Mexico, which |
was scheduled to leave to-morrow on her
second trip to Dyea. When the vessel
struck off Sitka. as reported in an earlier
dispatch, Captain Walker and his officers
quietly awaited their turn to be lowered
over the side in boats. This was per-
formed without a hitch, splendid discipline
being maintained. After the passengers
were safely off the crew turned their atten-
tion to the hand baggage which the passen-
gers had in their cabins and the treasures
and valuables belonging to the steamer.
|
|
|
|
stowed below deck, and as it was every-
for them to do so.
They had not been away from her when
The farmer was completely pros- |
The steamer Mexico, wrecked at the en- |
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
The following are said to be the six
wealthiest women in the world : Senora
| Isidora Cousino, $200,000,000; Hetty
| Green, $50,000,000 ; Baroness Burdett
he had bartered a large, flourishing farm
acres of this worthless rock. |
Coutts, $20,000,000 ; Mme. Barrios, $15,-
000,000 ; Miss Mary Garret, $10,000,000 ;
Mrs. Woleska, $10,000,000.
Belts and sashes says Harper's Bazar,
play an important part in summer cos-
tumes this season. The girdle or corselet
still finds favor, but it is not the same
shape nor size as that worn last year, in
consequence of the full blouse front that is
so marked a feature on this year’s gowns,
which does not permit of a girdle being
worn in front, so at the back the belt is
high pointed or round as desired, but in
front it is narrow and tapers to a point.
Satin girdles made on the bias are the
most popular, for they fit better and can he
drawn more tightly around the waist ;
the smooth effect, too, has given way to
the folds, which are certainly much more
graceful. Everything this season must be
made to look loose and graceful, even
though in reality it is tight-fitting.
Sash ribbon such as worn in olden days,
has again come in favor, of medium width
and in queer old fashioned patterns, like
the old silks. Bright plaids and checks
abound, but there are also the plain taffetas
and gros grains. The Liberty satin, how-
ever, is considered extremely smart, and is
to be had in many colors.
Made sashes are. as a rule more satisfac-
tory than those tied each time they are
worn. The belt should be separate and
have some stiffening, and then the sash ends
can be attached.
Two-inch ribbon is also in style. When
it is used the ends are pnt onto the belt
with rosettes or flat loops, which hang
straight down. These are now seen on
many of the foulard gowns, and are made
either of black or white ribbon.
Belts of bias satin, tied in front, or rath-
er at one side, in the loops called elephant’s
ears are becoming to almost all figures,
but look best for stout women when pulled
down in a point ; only very slender figures
look well with them pulled in tight at the
waist line.
Belts and buckles have lost some of their
popularity and while the severely plain
leather belt with harness buckle is best
with shirt-waists, the fancy ribbons with
elaborate buckles are more worn with
smart shirt waists. :
From Paris are some charming designs
in metallic ribbon ; one, in shaded green,
has a gilt buckle held down by three long
gilt pins, each headed witha large tur-
quoise. Plaid silk belts all have gilt
buckles, while narrow silver or gilt
have the Russian enamel buckles ; or there
are rococo patterns, set with large stones.
Very few rhinestone belt buckles are seen,
but the Russian enamel is omnipresent.
Narrow belts are still preferred to the wide
ones, and there are fortunately some new
contrivances for keeping the skirt and belt
together which are quite ornamental, and,
if possible, accord with the belt buckle.
Redness of the hands and wrists during
the summer outing may be somewhat
obviated by keeping ready an agreeable
wash to be used at night. Almond oil and
the juice of a lemon 1s a simple remedy.
Apply to the hands and then cover with
old kid gloves, slit through the palms.
The very essence of chic summer grace
and style is a modish foulard, so much the
rage now, made with ruffles to the waist
and the waist emphasized by little double
pleatings of apple green and black satin.
A hat to match, being a coarse black sailor
was | i itl chi
£ oily tee % | with trimming of green and black chiffon
the West Devil Rocks, and into the deep | kyotted around the rim and with a large
Instantly there was a call ! black bird at the side.
It is being announced by the fashionable
modistes and women tailors that they will
not fit gowns for the coming season only
| over the new shape corsets, while the cloak
and mantle makers say that all garments
for the fall and winter trade will also be
modeled for figures wearing the same
style. There is a most pronounced change
from the old corset, whose chief end seem-
ed to be to accentuate the length of the
waist and to raise the bust.
The new corset has what the girls call
‘the low bust and sudden hip.”” The back
is noticeably narrow, the hips very full
and the bust entirely without formation.
| Except at the waist line the garment scarce-
| ly touches the figure at all. When worn
| the upper edge just reaches the lower line of
{ the bust, thereby leaving it fully exposed,
| but firmly held in place by the line of the
| corset and the upper clasp, which fastens
immediately in the centre and a little
| high up, it being the highest part of the
{ corset. The hips and under arm pieces,
| being remarkably full, have a tendency to
| increase the width of the body, giving
Now, there was no time to save anything | the wearer the fullness of figure so notice-
able in French fashion plates. Of course
thing in the cabins could not be secured. | this increase of size just above and below
although the captain and the crew stayed the waist has a tendency to make it appear
on the steamer until it was no longer safe | smaller than it really is.
The change will
| not be objected to by slender women,
| while, on the other hand, to a woman
{ she made a final plunge and went down | with a superabundance of flesh the new
i side. Only a short time before orders were |
| sent to the engine room to send her under |
| full steam ahead, and consequently she |
| went right through the rocks.
| been an iron vessel yery few would have
lived to tell the story of the accident. She
would have gone down like a rock.
New Metak Thala they had to spend sev-
eral days awaiting the arrival of the
Topeka, news of the wreck having been
sent north to her by the steamer Alki.
| The passengers and crew had their wants
attended to by Rev. Dr. Duncan and his
Indians.
Of the seventy-five
| were tourists
land others were coming south from dif-
(ferent Alaskan ports. Included in the
passengers,
[ latter were a party of naturalists who had | ! 1
' Jawn, plain or embroidered.
| spent the summer in Western Alaska col-
| lecting specimens for the Columbian
| museum. .
{Their specimens and notes went down
{with the steamer.
| Seattle the Mexico carried 278 passengers
{and some 180 tons of freight, consisting
| principally of the outfit of the intending
| miners and carried in addition thereto
sixty-eight horses and one hurro, which
was used in packing those outfits.
— — A 25-year-old wife sold her husband
for $35 to a widow the other day, and now
she regrets it. The transfer was legally
made in New York through a notary,
who drew up a regular bill of
sale, which the wife signed after
she received the cash. The money
didn’t last long, and to-day she took legal
police got a move on.
Had she | ed for the very young
At |
stern first. She struck on her starboard corset will be nothing short of an abomina-
bilge keel and a large hole was torn in her | tion,which they will be slow to adopt.
The fashion of long skirts so long adopt-
girls seems to be dis-
| carded. Instead the kind of dress falling
| from a yoke to below the knees, dresses
| are made with pronounced waists and
| pleated skirts. This especially applies to
| those in the lingerie style, trimmed with
| Valenciennes insertion or narrow hemmed
| flounces like those of chemisettes. The
sleeves are generally made with epaulets,
s0 as to give them a better effect. These
| can either be made with ruches or pleats, or
forty |
who made the round trip
in lace or in guipure.
Gathered yokes, either with or without
purling, are also much worn for children.
{ The materials chiefly used are foulards,
When she sailed from |
spotted musling, printed muslin cambric or
For the little boys, full breeches down
to the knees are worn fastened by a piece of
elastic, or else long trousers very wide at
the bottom, which is a novelty. For vests,
1 T have seen, besides navy blouses, those
|
| and white pique.
which are tucked into the trousers and
open over a striped jersey with a square
collar.
The material most used are serge, coutil
For this style of dress
hooded capes are made in Melton cloth, or
small English double-breasted overcoats.
For tomato honev into a granite or
porcelain kettle put one pound of yel-
low tomatoes, one grated lemon peel,
six fresh peach leaves, boil until done
then squeeze through a jelly bag, then
to each pound of juice add one pound of
steps to regain possession of hubby, but he | sugar and the juice of one lemon. Boil un-
fled to Jersey with his owner before the | til thick as jelly, pour into glasses and
cover.