Demorralic falda. Bellefonte, Pa., Nov. 18,1898. A CUP OF COLD WATER. The Lord of the harvest walked forth one day Where the fields were white with the ripening wheat, Where those he had sent in the early morn Were reaping the grain in the noonday heat. He had chosen a place for each faithful one, And bidden them work till the day was done. Apart from the others, with troubled voice, Spoke one who had gathered no golden grain : “The master has given no work to me, And my coming hither has been in vain ; The reapers with gladness and song will come, But nosheaves will be mine in the harvest home.” He heard the complaint and he called her name ; “Dear child, why standest thou idle here ? Go 61 thy cup from the hillside stream And bring it to those who are toiling near; I will bless thy labor, and it shall be Kept in remembrance as done for Me.” “Twas a little service, but grateful hearts Thanked God for the water so cool and clear ; And some who were fainting through thirst and heat ; Went forth with new strength to the work so dear; And many a weary soul looked up Revived and cheered by the little cup. Dear Lord, I have looked with an envious heart On those who were reaping the golden grain, I have thought in Thy work I had no part, And mourned that my life was lived in vain, But now Thou hast opened my eyes to see That Thou hast some little work for me. If only this labor of love is mine, To gladden the heart of some toiling saint, To whisper some words {hat shall cheer the weak Do something to comfort the worn and faint— Though small be the service T will not grieve, Content just a cup of cold water to give. And when the Lord of the harvest shall come, And the laborers home from the field shall call, He will not look for my gathered sheaves; But his loving words on my ear will fall ; “Thou gavest a cup of cold water to me, A heavenly home thy reward shall be.” — Helen Hunt Jackson. S—— TALE OF AN OPEN DOOR. There really was no telling how long she had been living there all alone except for the two servants. Even the servants themselves could not have told. Susan, the cook, if you had asked her about it, would have said : ‘Law, chile, don’t ask me no sech ques- tions. I’ve been shet up in dissher house so long I'se got plum moldy.” And if the years had not left mold on the mind and “the heart of the lonely old woman in the upper rooms it was not be- cause the time had been short. People wondered what kind of a woman she could have been when she was young, but that did not really matter. They all knew very well what kind of a woman she was now. Not that she was so very old, either. She had simply made herself old by sitting alone and shutting out the sunlight and thinking hard, bitter thoughts and getting wrinkles in her face and gray hair in her hair. Any one can do that who tries very hard, but whether itis the best thing to do, that is the question. Imaginative people said that she had been embittered by a great disappointment long ago and that it had turned her into a sour, gloomy old recluse, hating the world and everybody in it, but, after all, when you came to ask about these stories they were all hearsay. Of the two servants in the kitchen, one was Susan, who knew just when to do everything and just how to do it, because she done the same things at the same time every day during all those years when she was growing “moldy.” The other was Jane, the housemaid. Jane had been there only six years, and Susan told her every day that if she didn’t quit ‘‘disremem- berin’’ everything that she was told she would certainly ‘git her walkin papers.”’ Perhaps the threat has been repeated too often and had lost its effect. At any rate Jane went on ‘“‘disrememberin’’ with the calmness of perfect confidence in her safety and left doors open and forgot to lock gates and was altogether a trial to the methodical Susan. Year after year this old woman had been alone. She had a great, fine house, but she lived in a little corner of it. She had great quantities of money, but she used very litle of it. She had no friends, or if she had, she never saw them. In all Su- san’s recollection of her she had never done anybody a kindness. The servants bad orders never to feed a tiamp, and as for giving money to beggars, why, dear me, such a thing was never dreamed of. But it was Jane that ended it. Jane had gone out to the coalhouse and had come in with a scuttle of coal, and perhaps it is needless to state, knowing shat we do of her, that she left every door open on her way up stairs. As she set the scuttle down in the corner she heard the well known command : “Shut the doors as You go back Jane.”! And she gave the stereotyped reply : “Yes, Mis’ Arnam, I ten-to it.’ So she went back shutting all the doors, but it was too late then. The mischief was done. Something had whisked into the room before you could think, and be- fore the echo of Jane's footsteps had died out of the room there was the roundest, funniest gray kitten running up Mrs. Ar- nam'’s dress and scrambling into her lap. Once there, it looked her in the eyes, stretched out its soft little paws and mewed in the most wheedling, caressing manner known to kittenhood. * . The old woman did not throw the kitten down, or push it down, or shut it ontside the door. She started to do all three, but instead she only sat there, looking at the little ball of gray while it closed and un- closed its paws on her folded hands. “Well, what do you want?” she said presently. The sound of her own voice startled her. It had been so long since she had heard it except in giving orders to the servants, There never was such a kitten. The moment she spoke to it, up it went, hand over hand, over the bosom of the black dress, and before the old woman could move a finger it was actually rubbing its pink nose on her very chin. Not only that but it mounted upon her shoulder and purred in her ear and smoothed its silky side against her cheek and actually clawed at her hair and tumbled down into her lap and ran back to her shoulder again as though it were the greatest fun in the world. Something stirred in the stern, silent, grim old woman. The touch of a living creature against that withered face went deeper than the face. She raised a hand and stroked the kitten and spoke to it gently. Such a frolic as that kitten had ! How it caught her hand and pretended to bite her fingers with its ridiculous little teeth and scratch them with ali its claws at once! How it scampered about, playing hide and seek with its own tail! How it swarmed up the curtains and the table covers and looked at itself in the glass and rolled it- self up in the Persian rug and enjoyed every minute of the time! In short, if ever there was a kitten that just simply took possession of a room: and made itself thoroughly at home there, this was that kitten. When Jane went up stairs to announce the next meal, as was her custom, she re- turned to the kitchen almost tottering and with distended eyes. “I bleebe Mis’ Arnam done gone crazy !”’ she cried. “‘She sottin up dere wif a kit- ten in her lap, and she say for you to fotch her dinner up to ’er an a sasser o’ milk for de kitten !”’ *G’way from here, niggah!’ cried Su- san, and she hurried to her mistress’ room to disprove Jane's story. She returned with slower footsteps and a frightened face. Mrs. Arnam had said to her : “Yes, I want my dinner here, Susan. until the kitten gets used to the house. I have never had a kitten before. I don’t know why I have never thought of it.”’ “‘Dey’s somefin wrong wif Mis’ Liza- beth,’’ said Susan when she had gained the sacred precincts of the kitchen and Jane had assured her that she *‘shoo’ly did look pale. Long as I been stayin here, she ain’t never eat in her room yit, and now she gwine ter eat dere on account ob a measly little cat.”’ On the second day a queer thing hap- pened. The kitten had performed what it considered a great feat, and Mrs. Arnam laughed. The sound of the laugh fright- ened her, and it sent the kitten skurrying under the bed. It came out presently and growled at her as a gentle intimation not to try that any more, and that made her laugh again. Jane, sweeping in the next room, heard it, and left her work unfin- ished to tell Susan, but Susan scornfully warned her not to come ‘tellin her no sech trash.” There were hounds beyond | which Susan’s credulity could not go. Of course Jane left the doors open again before the week was out. She declared that she ‘‘shet ebery one ob’em.” But she must have left them open, for how else did the kitten get out? At any rate, before any one knew it, the kitten was gone and was not to be found anywhere in the house. When mistress and servants had searched everywhere in. vain, Mrs. Arnam shut her- self up in Ler room again and sat down be- fore the fire. The little creature that had distracted her thoughts for a few days and had made her forget herself was gone, and once more she was a lonely old woman— more lonely and miserable than she had been before. She sat there looking at gloomy scenes in the glowing coals until she could endure it no longer, and then she arose and walked about the room and fi- nally threw up a window to get rid of the choking pain in the heart. And when she leaned out into the cold air, what do you think she saw ? Just helow her, seated on the doorstep, was a ragged little hoy with her kitten in his arms. Ina moment she was down stairs and had the door open and had frightened the child so that he could do nothing but stand and stare at her. ‘What are you doing with my kitten lit- tle boy 2? she demanded grimly. ‘“ “Tain’t your kitten! It’s mine !”’ he replied clasping it closer. “How did it happen should like to know 2’ old woman. ‘It was horned mine,” was the simple explanation, and then the woman’s heart sunk. She had never once thought the kitten might be somebody’s property be- fore it came to her, and behold, she had no right to it from the first. She was about to go in and close the door, but she paused to ask coldly : “What were you doing on my door- step 2? “We was a-warmin ourselves,’’ said the child, and this reminded him of his own discomfort so that he began to shiver and to shrink together. Truly, it was a bitter day. Even in that sunny nook the cold was intense. The child was blue with it. She had not no- ticed that before. “Come in and warm the kitten,”’ she said. Now what had come over her? What magic spell had been working on that haid old heart? She sat in her armchair, watching the child thaw and grow rosy red in the grateful warmth, as he sat on the hassock before the fire. There was no to be yours, I asked the angry at my fire—you and soand in the room but the soft crackling of | the burning coal and the gentle purring of the kitten, and after a while the child be- gan to nod. Overcome with drowsiness, he slipped down to the rug at last and stretched himself out there, and when the kitten crept into his arms he murmured : “It always sleeps wid me to keep me warm.” After a while the old woman arose softly and covered hoth the sleepers with hlank- ets and slipped a pillow under the child’s head. Poor little touseled curls. How pretty they would be if they were brushed! The withered hand touched them softly. When had that hand ever been laid on a child’s head before ! And then, as though ashamed of such weakness, she sat down again and resolutely looked into the fire. What was this child more than any other? There were hundreds of such children in the streets—born thieves, ‘every one of them, ready to repay kindness by stealing anything they could lay their hands on. But it was no use. ‘She couldn’t keep from looking at the child, and somehow it did seem pleasant to hear his soft breath- ing in that room, that had been silent so long. And after she bad watched and list- ened for a while she went into another room and opened a drawer that had been shut I don’t know how many years and took out—a child’s cloak, that would sure- ly cover that little figure in the other room from head to foot. She looked at the cloak a long time, and once she rolled it up and put it back again, but then she took it out in a hurry and went and sat down, with it on a chair be- side her. Ah, surely that wasa genial fire. That icy old heart of hers was thawing be- fore it, as the snow thaws on the southern slopes in spring. And in a little while she made another journey to the long shut drawers and brought ont piles and piles of clothes— good ones, teo, that might have heen for the child by the fire—and shoes, too, wrapped in oiled silk, as though they were made of gold, and the jauntiest little hat you ever saw. And then, awhile later, she touched her bell and summoned Jane, and, disregarding Jane's amazed stare, said : “‘Give this child a warm bath, Jane, and put these clothes on him, and then bring him here.” The little fellow was pretty in his new clothes despite the thin face that had been blue with cold that morning. And what pretty curls those were, just as she had thought they would be! “The kitten took him for a perfect stranger and went under the chairand growled at him. How he laughed at that—a thin little laugh that brought the tears to her eves. Oh, it was wonderful how those eyes of hers were im- proving! And yet she did not say a word to him except to ask him where he lived. And then she told Jane to take care of the boy and the kitten until she came back, and she wrapped herself up and went out, She was gone a long time. When she came back, her eyes were bright and moist and looked almost like a pair of new eyes. She sat down and took the child and the kitten both in her lap. “Little man,’”’ she said, “I’ve been to see your uncle and aunt. They’ve had sickness and haven’t been able to take care of their own children. And so I'm going to send them all, the whole family, out to a great big farm of mine. where they’ll get | well and make a living, and you are going to stay with me and be my little boy. The child contemplated her with serions eyes. Aftera while he asked doubtfully : ‘An the kitten too?” ‘Oh, yes, indeed,”’ cried the old woman, “kitten too.”’ They had supper there together afterward, all three of them, and such a hungry boy as that was, and what a pleasure it was to see him eat! Why, this rich old woman, shut up in her own gloomy thoughts, had never dreamed there could be a child as hungry as that in all the world ! And, afterward, when he insisted on wearing his new shoes to bed, Jane and Susan had to be called up to see that, and they made a holiday of it. I don’t know how marty years it had been since the old walls had echoed to such laughter. When Susan saw that grim, austere old woman actually persuading the child to let the shoes lie in a chair where he could touch them, and when she saw her put the kitten into his arms, she remarked to Jane in an awestruck whisper : “Hit do ‘pear to me like de merlennium mus’ be jes® ron de corner.’ And that wasn’t the end of it ! No, in- deed! Why, the very next day a minister whose work lay among the poor and desti- tute, received a summons to call on an old woman who had refused to see him when he had called at her door once before. And when he went, there she was with a sail boy and a kitten, and there was a radiance in her face that did not come from the fire- light as she said : “I have just found out what poverty is. You see a great deal of it, I am told. Next Thursday will be Thanksgiving. I have not observed it for many years, hut all that is changed. I want you to take this money and see how far it will go in giving all the poor you know a little supply of fuel and a good Thanksgiving dinner. And will you come back to me when that is gone? I want the dinner to be a good one, mind, a regular, generous, old fash- ioned Thanksgiving dinner.’ Oh, it was a great time in that old wom- an’s life ; but that was not all, she sent for an architect that very evening and began to talk over plans for a howe for homeless children, and while she talked the child was leaning against her knee and she fondled his thin little hand. After the architect was gone she still sat there muas- ing. Late as it was, she said to herself, she might still atone for her idle, selfish, lonely life. And that was not all yet, for when Jane came to the door and said, with a broad grin spreading all over her face, somebody to see you, Mis’ Arnam,”’ she did not hear until the somebody came in and stood be- side her and asked : “Mother, can you forgive me yet 2”? she must have been dreaming of him’ for she of a dream —this handsome man, with a mouth as firm as her own—bat in a mo- ment she had awakened and was in his arms, crying out to him while the tears rained down her cheeks : “Oh, Dick, my little boy, my own little lad, don’t ask forgiveness of me! I need it so much more !”’ And there was Susan’s face in the door- way, illuminated with a radiant grin ; for had she not known where Mas’ Dick was all this time? And had she not gone to him that very morning and told him ? Mas’ Dick, now's yo' time to make frien’s wif yo’ ma, for she sho’ly is like anodder woman !”’ Aud there was the little boy in Dick’s arms before you could think, and friends with him from the very first minute, and there was the kitten running up the table cover and tumbling down again and mak- ing a perfect whirligig of itself in that mad pursuit after its own tail, altogether there never was such a happy time. Susan began that very evening making preparations for the most delightful Thanksgiving dinner that ever was eaten, and while she worked she chuckled with delight and took all the credit to herself because she had broughf Mas’ Dick home in the very nick of time. But then, there was the little boy who had melted the hard old heart ready for Dick’s coming and there was the kitten which had brought the little hoy and there was Jane who had left the door open for the kitten, and so— But what does it matter how the Thanks- giving got into the house, so that it came. — Philadelphia Times. Direct Evidence. Chief Lees Seems to Have a Good Mrs. Botkin. Case Against SAN FrANCISCO, Nov. 13.—Chief of Po- lice Lees has sent to Delaware four sub- penas for as many witnesses in the case of the people of California vs Cordelia Botkin. Witnesses from Delaware will complete the chain of evidence which is expected to convince twelve men that Mrs, Botkin murdered Mary Elizabeth Dunning. : John P. Dunning, husband of the dead woman ; ex-Congressman Pennington, her father ; Dr. Wolf, State chemist of Dela- ware ; Detective McVey and most of those who were connected with the case will come westward in obedience to the suh- penas of the California courts and at the expense of the city and county of San Fran- cisco. The cost of bringing these witnesses and maintaining them here will he over $20, - 000. : ‘People make mistakes,” said Chief Lees, ‘‘when they speak of evidence against Mrs. Botkin as purely circumstantial. Most of it is direct evidence. “We can prove directly that Mrs. Bot- kin bought candy at Haas’ store. Then we have the clearest proof that she got arsenic at the Owl Drug Store. The box of candy was mailed at Dunnigan Ferry, John P. Dunnigan will prove that. He is clerk who distributes mail for Eastern States. He picked up the package contain- ing the candy and noticed it particularly because of the likeness of name on the ad- dress—Mrs. John P. Dunning—to his own, Naturally he noted also that the package was addressed to Dover, Del. When the story of the murder was published Dunni- gan recollected the name on the box and he knew that he had handled the package of poisoned sweets.’ Thanksgiving Day. Thoughts Suggested by the Annual Harvest Festival, The Day's True Significance. —Its Origin and An- cient Manner of Observance—Its Modern Signif- icance—The Country Feast—A Tempting Banquet. The Perfect Form of Giving Thanks. An annual harvest festival of Thanks- giving has been by no means peculiar to this country or even to modern ages. In deed the Hebrews had their harvest festi- vals, the principal one being the autumn feast of ingathering (feast of the Taberna- cles), a thanksgiving for the whole produce of the wine press, of the fruit orchards and the cornfields. Similarly, too, the Greeks and Romans had festival seasons in honor of Demeter, or Ceres, the goddess of agri- culture. All these were sanctioned hy religious rite, games and joyous indulgence in the pleasures of the table. So our Thanksgiving day has a noble descent in history, and the Puritans of Massachusetts not only showed their piety, but their scholarship, in some of the old sermons still extant. A discourse of the celebrated Dr. Cotton Mather on Thanksgiving is curious in its learning concerning the pro- totypes of the Puritan festival among the nations of the past. It shows how well the fathers knew they had linked them- selves with a great historic observance. However the day has become shorn of its religious quality in the minds of the masses, who sacredly enjoy the Thanksgiving tur- key, its connection with worship is always earnestly enjoined by state and federal proclamations. It is indeed the sole relig- ious festival observed inthe United States by virtue of civil authority. The annual practice in New England during colonial times was imitated after awhile by the Dutch and England governors of New looked at him as though he had been part | York, and the continental congress pro- claimed the festival annually during the great war struggle. It remained after- ward, however, a purely state affair till, in 1863, President Lincoln began the prac- tice of proclaiming an autumnal Thanks- giving annually. In the earlier time Thanksgiving day was the most important of American fes- tivals, for Christmas was looked on with more or less suspicion by the rigid Pari- tans. Aside from church going, shooting with the rifle at turkeys was the most wide spread habit of the day. This is still prac- ticed to some extent in the purely rural communities. Now-a-days, however, the overshadowing feature of the holiday in the way of amusements is the prevalence of the great foot-ball and other games se- lected for the date. Our universities make it the occasion of their most brilliant ath- letic contests. Out of the cities where the more important of these friendly battles would naturally cccur local games are ar- ranged which perhaps evoke as much in- terest among the spectators. It is curious to observe that among all the strong and servile nations this tendency to connect national festivals with athletic contests has been all but universal. Among the Amer- icans, Englishmen and Germans of to-day. the cognate branches of the Teuton family, this is specially noticeable, The religious exercises of Thanksgiving always look in some way toward matters { of national gratitude rather than those of individual thanks. So we expect the church addresses to he largely of a political character, dealing with topics of public morais. Our ministers naturally avail themselves of this escape valve to discharge views of political questions once a year, and many a good stump speech, as well as some poor ones, have been thus shot from the battery of the pulpit. Not a few of the most powerful and eloquent addresses of Henry Ward Beecher, Rev. Dr. Storrs, Dr. Hall, Dr. E. H. Chapin and other preaching celebrities have owed themselves to this occasion. A sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. Palmer of New Orleans on Thanksgiving day, 1860, is said to have aroused aud crystallized secession senti- ment scarcely less than Mirabeau’s oratory did the revolutionary sentiment at the con- vocation of the French states generals in 1789. So. while most of the Thanksgiving pulpit talking may lack pith and fire, it sometimes becomes a projectile of mon- strous force and effect. But, after all is said, one must confess that the true modern significance of Thanks- giving is that of the feast day—the family feast day. It gathers thescattered branches together from far and wide to sacrifice at the altar of family love, where are en- shrined the Lares and Penates of the old home. There is something of this feeling, too, at Christmas, but it chiefly touches the individuals of each family branch. Thanksgiving seeks the gathering of the clan and becomes in many cases perhaps the most beautiful and delightful occasion of the year, full of the purest joy and sweetness, a veritable fountain of refresh- ments. The spectacle of three or four generations of a family assembled together from distant dwelling places under the ancient family rooftree is charged with the heart’s truest poetry. The significance is not that it surfeits the belly with tooth- some and succulent dainties, but that it fills the soul brimful of love and sym- pathy, effervescing anew after long ab- sence. This is the truest religious sacrifice of the day, and so the dinner table hecomes perhaps the most consecrated shrine of all, though no blood of the grape is poured out in libation there. a1] ; i It is in the country that. the finest joys of Thanksgiving are found, They go with turkey and pumpkin pie, not with terra. pin and canvasback ; with sparkling apple juice, not ‘with: champagne. . The crisp, pure air, the association of rurallife re. vived again with, exhilarating freshness, appetizing dishes, into whose concocting the cook has poured . the. purest love and joy of the heart as well as fragrant spices and sweets, make up something which no banquet of Lucullus could equal.” Many a worldworn spirit has found in such an oe- casion a new sense flaming out of the ashes of ennui and weariness, that, after all, life is well worth living. And so may it be always. We have said nothing in this article about the giving of thanks, which the name of the day emphasizes. Well, pet- haps the indulgence of love and innocent joy and the new birth of all the best sym- pathies of one’s nature aie as perfect a form of thanksgiving to the great Creator of all as prayer and psalm singing Within the walls of the chapel. Without the first named all else is hut ag “sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.” —— ——Bismarck leaves about 20,000,000 marks or $5,000,000, to be divided among his children. —“My car of Peace and Plenty I, Love, shall guide to earth ! Speed on, ye feathered beauties y Ere yet the morn hath birth We'll come with garnered treasures And hold triumphant sway Throughout the Land of Freedom This glad Thanksgiving Day.” — Hobart. the warming of family ties, the “homely, | Two Girls and Another. Talk Punctuated With Spoonfuls of Ice Cream. It was in one of the Chestnut street ice cream saloons, where all good Philadel- phians go to eat ice cream because their grandmothers and great-grand mothers went there. A girl whose enormous pompadour looked as if it were dressed over a horse collar was busily engaged in making an ex- cavation in a large dish of ice cream. A girl with a manly stride came in and the two shook hands like college boys. “Well, she’s gone,” exclaimed the girl with the manly stride, in a tone of relief as she sank into a chair opposite. “Who's gone 2’ “That girl from the South that’s been visiting me. I’ve just taken her to the Station and put her in her seat and checked her baggage and bought her ticket and helped her off with her jacket and done everything else but order her dinner for her, so now I hope to goodness she will get home without falling off the train.’ “Dear me, couldn’t she do those thing for herself 2’ “I know it’s dreadful to talk about one’s company, but I just must or burst. She's one of those ‘clinging vines’ and she’s al- most worn me to a shadow. When she gets a little older she be what Howells calls a ‘hen-minded woman.’ ‘“Tell me, what did she do, what did she say that seems to have stirred you up so much ?”” asked the girl with the pompadour interestedly. “Well, for one thing, she was always getting lost and wouldn’s ask anything from a policeman because she said it was ‘so conspicuous.” She came so near being run over by bicycles, trolley cars and carriages Jubilee week that I thought my hair would turn white. If anything was coming she would stop right on the crossing and squeal.” “How stupid 1”? “Yes, wasn’t it? I took her out to see the girls play golf and she thought it was dreadful for them to play bare-headed and to roll up their sleeves. She thinks girls who play tennis are tomboys and bicycle riding she says is unlady-like.’’ “The idea! What did she like to do 2 “‘Oh, she would sit for hours embroider- ing dolies, polishing her finger nails and waiting for the men to call. She was from the South, you know. Don’t you hate girls who are always kissing you and pat- ting vou ?" “Well, I should say 80; she didn’t do all that, did she?” “Yes she did, every night and morning, and she had those abominably soft little hands that squeeze up into nothing. They give me the creeps. She always went to bed in gloves that smelled of glycerine and rose water.’’ “How ridiculous ! Just think how we used to hang out of the window this sum- mer to get our hands tanned.’ *‘She had those innocent, helpless-look- ing eyes and when we were in a crowd she always hung to my arm and called herself ‘a poor frightened little kitten.’ »’ “Horrible !”’ “Yes, and evenings she played ‘Sparkling Waves’ on the piano and sang things about the murmuring sea.”’ ““Didn’t you feel like shaking her ?’’ “Often. The first night she came she sniffed for two hours; said she was home- sick because she had never heen out in the big world alone before. You would have thought she was an orphan starving in a garret. There our whole household was racking its brains to think of things to make her visit pleasant. She wept all over my chiffon tie up at the station just now and said when I came South to see her she would introduce me into Southern society and give a moonlight picnic for me.”’ ‘Are you going ?”’ “Ni Te S——————— Hottest American Town. The people who flee to the mountains and seashore in summer days, as if before a pestilence, when what they know as the heated term is on, can have no idea what hot weather really is until they have spent a few days in the old town on the Colorado river in southwestern Arizona, says a cor- respondent of the Boston Transcript. The people who tell agonizing tales of their suf- fering in the periods of temperature among the nineties in the great cities ought to come out here in summer to know what Old Sol can do in the way of heat-making when he gets really down to business. What would you say to living ina spot where not a blade of grass may be seen, where there is nothing green but a few trees shimmering in the dusty sunshine, where the earth everywhere is so hot that one cannot stand upon it with bare foot, and where from June 1st to early in QOec- tober the temperature is seldom below 90 degrees, and more generall y about the 110th | degree mark—once in a while running up to 123 and 125 degrees ? What would you think of a temperature for a full month not less than 97 degrees, of two weeks at a time varying from 108 to 115 degrees, and even a week at a time over 112 degrees in the shade? That is what the residents of this quaint old town of Yuma have regu- larly each summer. Last summer the Yumas had two spells of weather when the mercury climbed up to 117 degrees in the shade every morning for a few successive days and descended to 96 and 100 degrees in the night. - From June 10th to 14th the daily temperature ranged from 107 to 115 degrees. From June 18th to June 21st in- clusive the temperature on each afternoon went as high as 117 degrees in the shade. eit mn Harvesting the “Fruits.” The Sugar Trust has the honor and the glory of harvesting the ““first fruits of em- pire.?”’ : It has bought the entire sugar crop— 250,000 tons—of our new Hawaiian posses- sions. It will use this purchase in destroy- ing the independent refiners. As the Su- gar Trust was the most potent advocate of Hawaiian annexation, it is fitting that it should reap the rewards of its patriotism. Sugar and leprosy are the only consider- able Hawaiian products. Now that the sugar has been appropriated there remains only the leprosy. Who will harvest that >— N. ¥. World. The Manna of the Jews. The manna of the Jews isa lichen (Lich- en esculentus, sive Canona esculenta). The Saharan nomads and the inhabitants of South Algeria call it Oussehel-Ard (ex- crement of the earth). It occurs in lumps the size of a pea. The inside resembles a white farina. It must be gathered early, for the 1ays of the sun soon wither it, but it can be kept well in closed vessels. Provided For. The Old Friend—I don’t believe you realize the dignity of your position, The New Millionaire—Don’t have to. I’ve a butler hired for that. ——You ought to take the WATCHMAN. — SS I Corbin’s Report. He Sends It to The Secretary of War—Telis of the Many Soldiers—The Total Number of Those in the Volunteer Service.—Qur Losses in The War. General Corbin has made his port to the secretary of war. Discussing the volunteer army, General Corbin shows the legislation regarding it and gives in detail the different organiza- tions called out from the various States and territories. The strength of the vol- unteer army at its highest pot, which during the month of August, was 8.755 officers and 107,244 enlisted men. The aggregate strength of the regular and volunteer armies was 11,108 officers and 263,609 enlisted men. General Corbin says that the suspension of hostilities resulted from ‘‘the short but brilliant operations of the army against Santiago.” The surrender of the Spanish troops in Porto Rico, no less than the sue- cessful operation of other troops in the Philippines, lead to the determination to muster out 100,000 volunteers. He gives the details, which may have been pub- lished, and adds : “Since the signing of the protocol the officers and men of the volunteer regiments have remained at their posts of duty, in most cases at great per- sonal sacrifices. That they have done this cheerfully and without complaint make it all the more desirable that a speedy in- crease of the regular army he provided for in order that the volunteers may be re- leased from further service and he allowed to return to their peaceful vocations.’’ The number killed and wounded during all the campaigns is as follows : Officers killed 23, enlisted men killed 257, officers wounded 113, enlisted men wounded 1,464. The total deaths from wounds and disease up to October 31d were 107 officers and 2,083 enlisted men. General Corbin recommends that the men of the National Guard who entered the volunteer army be allowed to return and be readmitted to their state organiza- tions. Advice to those who control the National Guard is as follows : ‘While the yearly state encampments have been pro- ductive of positive good in imparting prac- tical instruction to the troops participating, the experience of the recent campaign has demonstrated the absolute necessity of fur- ther assimilating the condition of en- camped troops to the actual necessities of active service by making the men while in camp dependent for their subsistence on the army ration to be furnished by the state authorities, on ration returns and cooked by troops by precisely the same manner asin actual service in the field. An organization ordered to a state camp for military instruction, relying on a ca- terer to furnish them necessary food, can never acquire that self reliance which char- acterizes the regular soldier on active duty for without previously received instruc- tions in preparing food the natural results when called into service will be poorly cooked and wasted rations which, failing to strengthen the physician’s report, mak- ing liable to febrile and stomach troubles incident to service in all kinds of weather, under distressing but unavoidable condi- tions. ‘‘For this purpose, involving the issue of rations and the purpose of field cooking stoves and utensils, the annual appropria- tion made by Congress for the support, in part, of the militia, is totally inadequate, and its increase, urged in past years, has now become a necessity.’ To — Thanksgiving Day. annual re- Governor Hastings Issues His Proclamation Naming Thursday, November 24th, Governor Hastings has issued the follow- ing proclamation : In accordance with a time-honored cus- tom and pursuant to the proclamation of the President of the United States, I, Daniel H. Hastings, Governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, do hereby designate and set apart Thursday, Nov. 24th, 1898, as the annual day of thanks- giving, to be observed. by the citizens of this Commonwealth. Not since the war which threatened ‘the destruction of the Union and which brought peace to a reunited country have the peo- ple of Pennsylvania and of the country had so great cause for giving thanks to Almighty God, upon whose favor the hap- piness and true greatness of our people must always depend. Prosperity has reigned within our bord- ers, but the peace of our country, which has continued for a third of a century, has been interrupted by war, made necessary in the cause of humanity and in the inter- est of the peace of the world for the years that are to come. The patriotism of our entire people has heen made prominent by the events that have transpired within the last six months, has given new strength to our government, has added much to the love we have for our country. Thef horrors of war cannot be palliated and the losses that we know have brought sorrow to a large number of the homes in our State, vet we should all be thankful for the results that have been accomplished. To this end let our usual places of wor- ship be attended hy the ctizens of our Com- monwealth on this day set apart for thanks- giving and prayer, and let us all renew our devotion to our country’s best interests and render thanks to Him to whom we owe every blessing. Given under my hand and the Great Seal of State at the city of Harrisburg, this Twelfth day of November, in the year of Our Lord, One Thousand Eight Hun- dredy and Ninety-eight, and of the Com- mon wealth, the One Hundred and Twenty- third. By the Governor, DANIEL H. HASTINGS. DAVID MARTIN, Secretary of the Commonwealth. A New Oil Well Flowing. A Second One Shot at Gaines Made Great E. xcitement. The excitement in the Pine Creek oil field above Jersey Shore was increased Saturday when the drill in another well struck oil at a depth of 900 feet. This new well promises to outdo the first well that was shot about three weeks ago. The well in which oil was struck Saturday is some distance from the first one and proves that the oil producing territory is not limited as some argued. Its extent can be only de- fined by drilling new wells. The gas wells continue to produce good pressure and the town of Gaines is now being piped in order to supply consumers. Other wells are ex- pected to come on next week. The rush of oil men to the new territory continues and with the drilling of each well the excitement goes a notch higher. Land is being leased in all directions and next spring will see wells drilled much nearer this city than those now flowing. Better Have It. Mabel—He wants to send me his picture. Would you accept it ? Dolly—Certainly. He sent me one in a frame worth one hundred dollars.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers