SS RE TE Democratic atc, Bellefonte, Pa., Dec. 2. 1898. SOME DAY. Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little erib I erept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For, oh! Ilove youso! You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know. Some time, when in a darkened place, Where others come to weep, Your eyes shall look upon a face Calm in eternal sleep; The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow, The patient smile shall show— But some time you shall know. Look backward, then, into the years And see me here to-night— See, O my darliug, how my tears Are falling as I write— And feel once more upon your brow The kiss of long ago— You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know. —Eugene Field. FROM BOHEMIA. Van Rensselaer sat through many an em- bassy dinner, eating messy dishes out of ribbons and frilled papers and offering his polygot remarks to many a foreign celeb- rity, but he glanced toward his left hand neighbor with some apprehension as he finished his soup making a hasty study of the princess with her blue black hair and her swarthy side face. There was a dis- play of shoulder and blazing green jewels in the corsage, an impression of large out- line and a pervasive personality. Clearly she was not attractive, he decided, and then, as she finished what she had been saying to the man who took her out and turned toward Van Rensselaer, he instant- ly reversed his judgment under the com- pulsion of her dark eyes. Whether or not she was handsome by ordinary standards he could not have told, but attractive and interesting certainly, and inexplicably odd. With her large red lipped mouth and gleaming white teeth she might have been a quadroon or she might have posed to good effect as a gvpsy queen in private theatricals. She spoke to him in French. I suppose you are a senator or a gen- eral, or periaps a cabinet member? You American men are so osteatatiously plain in dress. You abstain so carefully from wearing vour decorations on your evening coats that a poor foreigner may not know.” He laughed. for a princess. “I am sorry, your highness, but IZhave neither office nor insignia to my name. Indeed I have been puzzling my inglor- ious head not a little to know why I am placed so illustriousiy at your side!” But he knew, and so did she, that it was because he speke French like a Parisian and was the cleverest diner out in Wash- ington. It was not until the first entree that they again took a turn, and she passed with evident relief from the heavy German of the Austrian embassador to her more accustomed tongue. They tasted and haz- arded suggestions as to the composition of the dish before them. “Permit me monsieur,”’ she broke off suddenly. Allow me one more guess, more intimate—personal! Iam a clairvoy- ant, it has been said, and I have taken a great liberty. T have heen reading your thoughts. Will you allow me to tell you?’ Van Rensselaer bowed, smiling his in- credulity. “You do me very much honor, ma- + dame!” “Very well. You were looking down the table a moment ago when I addressed you, past the green and gold Bohemian glass. Tdo not know what you saw, but it was something very far away—oversea, [ think.” He flushed slightly and assented. ‘We spoke of the entree, your mind was on other things. I said, ‘it is made of fish I fancy,” and you replied, ‘Since it is a game of guess, I choose lobster.’ What you were thinking was. ‘It is the world old mess of pottage—to be henceforth my daily bread!” Nest ce pas, monsieur, un bon hasard?”’ Van Rensselaer finished his wine and set down his glass. Te was not smiling now, and the flush had died out of his cheek. He looked at her with a gravity very like displeasure. “Your highness is indeed clairvoyant. It was not a guess. It was the truth. Princesses always tell the truth, do they not?"’ She made no reply, and the jewels in her piled up hair burned not half so deeply as her eyes. He wished that people who were clairvoyant would not fall to his lot at dinner. It was distinctly uncomforta- ble and not conducive to good digestion. “Is it too much,” said the princess softly, ‘‘to ask what the birthright was?’ It was too much decidedly, and vet be- fore he knew he answered, ‘Music.’ “Ah? murmered his questioner. now?” “Now,” said Van Renssalaer, smiling once more as he shrugged his shoulders, “now. I am Darby. But perhaps Darby and Joan are not indigenous to Russian society.”’ Through the orchids greetings to him. “How despairingly charming!” sighed the Russian as she laid down her lorgnette. ‘And that is Joan?” There was an : exasperation for Van Renssalaer in the finality of this woman's intuitions. “Princess,” he said when next they turned toward each other, *‘I am haunted by a resemblance. T think my subcon- scious mind, if I have one, has gore wan- dering over time and space to verify it when | you caught me napping. I have never | seen but one woman who looked like you | —it was years ago in my student days. She was also a princess—of Bohemia!” ‘That was orice ‘my country,’’ she re- replied. Van Rensstelaer laughed. ‘Bat not hers -—or mine. There is another and greater Bohemia where such as you may not dwell. Yours is geographically located. The other isnot. It is: Mo Nan’s Land. As it hap- pened, that other princess belonged to both Bohemias.”’ “Who was she—and what?’ ‘Pardon me. She had your eyes, but not your ancestry. She was a gypsy violin- ist in Prague. I have never since seen eyes like hers until to-night, and 1 shall never again hear a tone like that from her violin.” If he thought he had punished her, he was mistaken. She drew in her breath with an odd little sigh and looked at him from under her lowered lids. “I again read your thoughts, monsieur, and I honor you for it. Yon are saying She was audacious even “And a face was smiling to yourself that her real rank was as far above mine as your Bohemia was a happier land to dwell in than—let us say Rus- sial’”’ It was after dinner when the women were grouped in knots 1m the long drawing room that the princess managed to learn what she wanted to know of her neighbor at the table. “Van Rensselear—oh yes!’ said the hostess. ‘‘We call him Fortunatus; he’s such a lucky dog. He’s the last of an im- poverished old American family—if there is such a thing as an old family is 30 young a country—and was quite out of sorts with fortune when he met his wife. I believe he was knocking about Europe consorting with all sorts of shabby musical people, studying to be a pianist. She fell so des- perately in love with him that her father was obliged to allow the marriage. She bad always had her whims gratified, and she threatened to kill herself if denied this one. There was some delay about it, and then the wedding took place, with the compact—so I have been told-—that he was to give up his profession. I fancy that was no great hardship,’”’ she laughed, ‘‘as the price was $3,000,000 down and the hand of the richest heiress in America. It is nota difficult matter to be rich, princess!’ “I think it is sometimes very difficult,” was the surprising answer. It was at the bidding of a scented note with a coronet on it that Van Rensselaer found himself a few days later entering the apartments of the Russian. “It’s a thundering annoying sort of thing having your mind read, and I hope she won't be up to it again,’”’ he grumbled. She was clad in flowing red garments, ornamented with gold filigree, and a finely wrought gold girdle hung down from the clasp to the ham. Van Rensselaer felt the costume to be so barbaric as to be out of good form—too theatrical—and yet her manner was simple enough. ‘“We were speaking that night.”’ she he- gan as if they had just left off, ‘‘of music, Hungarian music, or were we only think- ing of it? I was hoping you would play for me to-day.” “I never play, never touch a piano any more.” And he felt a thrill of annoyance, as if some one had pushed again$t him roughly. The princess arose and crossed the room, taking up a violin that lay on the open piano. ‘“‘Then you will listen to me,” she said. t was Shubert, and she played with such mastery of the instrument, such sympathy and love of the work, that Van Rensselaer was moved out of his reserve. He laid aside his hat and gloves and sat down by the piano. Once more he threaded through exquisite harmonies and fill the theme with the piano accompaniment he knew so well. For more than an hour they played with no words save : ‘Do you remember this?”’ or ‘‘Another composer has solved that problem thus—you know it,’’ leading and following by turns through those paths where only musicians may walk in happy knowledge. ‘And now,” said the princess at last, “do you remember?” She stood straight and tall in her barbaric reds, the gold or- naments gleaming in the late slanting light, and Van Renssalaer had no need to wait for the strains that were coming. He was back again in student days, and through the cigar smoke of the music hall in Prague he could see the gitana, more slim and girlish, but with the same strange eyes and the blue black hair, while above the clink of the beer glasses and the soft shuffling of the waiters’ feet he could hear the witchery of her gypsy music—that half remembered strain that had teased him so often through the intervening years. Back and forth flashed the how while her figure swayed to the sad motions, and then came the sad cadence with the heartbreak in it that often characterizes the Hungarian mu- sic. Here she broke off and laid the violin on the piano. Then she came and put her hand on Van Rensselaer’s shoulder. “You know me now. I also was a Bo- hemian and T also sold my birthright for a mess of pottage! Ah, comrade, it is a grand country, that Bohemia! But we were not worthy of it, and there is no go- ing back! But it is still left to us to be true—true to a compact, and one dishonor is enough!’ The princess held out her hand in fare- well and dismissal, and Van Renssalaer kissed it reverently. He felt unsteady on his feet, as if he had been drinking. “Goodby!’? she said hrokenly. “I shall not see you again, for I am going away to- moriow—back to my Darby in Russia. I shall think of you sometimes when I dream of Bohem:a, and I shall pray that you be not too unhappy in your exile. Be good to your Joan!”—Annie E. J. Searing in Short Stories. Gold Filled Teeth. More of the Metal Goes Into Them Than can be Got Out. An example of some of the queer exper- iences people have when they are called upon to buy a thing with which they are not familiar and which théy have need of only on rare and unusual occasions is thus set forth by the Milwaukee Sentinel: A young woman who'worked as a domes- tic went to a dentist to get her teeth re- paired. He repaired them and sent a hill of $85. He justified himself for the charges by explaining how much the fillings cost him. In one hollow tooth, he said, he put $10 worth of gold. The bill was paid. and recently, when the little nugget (said to be worth $10) came out the woman took-it to a goldsmith and had it appraised. : He weighed it scrupulously and valued it at 48 cents. She no longer has faith in her dentist. It seems to be always good taste to ‘go shopping’ among the dentists before hav- ing any considerable amount of work done. There is considerable humbuggery about the business in some quarters. The public is told that $15 is a fair price for a crown and stands ready to pay it, on the ground that good work deserves good pay. A few blocks away the same work was done last week for $5, just as well as if $15 had been paid, and it was done by a reputable dentist. One dentist figured on $85 for six teeth, and another 200 yards away per- formed the service for $30. The Old Bucktail Flag. Members of the Bucktails in this neigh- borhood will be interested in the following, which is taken from the Wellsboro Agitator: Recently Captain J. V. Morgan, of this borough. received from Alonzo Howlan, of Edgewood, Georgia, the old flag which was made by the ladies of this borough and pre- sented to Company E, of the First Rifles, or Bucktails, and carried all through 1861 as the regimental flag. This flag was car- ried in several skirmishes and also at the battle of Dranesville, Va., where it was torn by a rebel shell. In the fall of 1891 Governor Curtin presented the Bucktails with a silk flag, as well as all other regi- ments in the Pennsylvania Reserves. The old flag is 3 feet 7 inches by 8 feet 4 inches in size and it has 34 stars. It is made of merino, and the colors are still bright. The Farth’s Age. Some Interesting Experiments in Regard to the Temperature. In the geological laboratory of Harvard university an interesting series of experi- ments is being carried on to determine the age of the earth. The question isan old one, and many guesses of more or less sci- entific exactness have in the past endeav- ored to solve it. These have been hased for the most part on the situation and forma- tion of rock and earth, the getting of gold from very deep deposits or the decay of vegetable matter. Prof. B. O. Pierce and R. W. Willson, who are carrying on the present tests, are working by a new pro- cess, which involves the use of mechanism for testing the conductivity of different grades of rock taken from different places, including the deepest hole that has ever been sunk into the earth. Incidentally the process also involves interesting min- ing problems, name levels and other ques- tions of deep shafting. It will probably settle the question of why certain parts of the interior of the earth are hotter or cold- er than other parts laying down rules of scientific accuracy. The investigations are being carried on under the auspices of the Rumford fund, and the professors who are conducting them are being supplied with material for the research by Prof. Alexander Agassiz. Prof. Agassiz is chief owner of the Calumet and Hecla mine, the deepest in the world. The upper levels of this mine have been worked out, but as the shafts have been driven deeper and deeper the ore continues as plentiful as ever. Immense fortunes have been taken out of this great hole, and it is of value to scientists because the shaft being now nearly a mile deep, has permit- ted examination of the interior of the earth such as has not been had before. It has been agreed among scientists generally that raging fires no longer exist in the interior of the earth. They believe that the center of the earth is very hot, but that this lat- ent heat is what remains of the cooling process which has been going on for mil- lions of years. Like a fallen cannon ball, the earth is cooling off from the surface toward the center, but the general pressure on all sides prevents the conflagration from raging within. According to this hypothe- sis the temperature ought to increase grad- ually but surely as the earth is penetrated This has proved to be the case in every deep hole which has been dug in the earth except in the Calumet and Hecla mine. In a well which is over 3,000 feet deep near Pittsburg, Prof. Hallock, of Co- lambia college, found that the tempera- ture rose 1 degree for every 50 feet the ther- mometer was lowered. At 5,000 feet the temperature was found to be 120.9 degrees Farenheit. At 5,502 the temperature was 128 degrees. In another deep well near Wheeling, W. Va., the temperature at 4,500 feet in 110 degrees. In the Speren- berg salt well near Berlin, Germany, the temperature at 4,170 feet is 110 degrees. The Schaladbach salt well, near Leipsic, has a temperature of 135.5 degrees at 5,740 feet. Yet these temperatures are surpassed as far as rapid rise is concerned in holes bored in geyserregions. In the Sutro tun- nel, which does not go far beneath the sur- face, the heat is so intense that the men employed therein are compelled to work in 20-minute shifts. Now, all this is directly in contradis- tinction to what has been found to exist in the Calumet and Hecla mine. Ata depth of a mile the laborers work all day in a temperature of 70 degrees, which condi- tion, it must be added, is not brought about by any elaborate system of ventila- tion. Seventy degrees is the natural'te- perature at the bottom of the mine. Prof. Agassiz has made some elaborate experi- ments in testing the general temperature of the mine. He caused to be placed at regular depths a number of thermometers. He had them walled up in niches in the rock and left them there months at a time. These thermometers were self-registering. That is the mercury would ascend to the point of the highest temperature whieh acted upon them during their stay in the rock, but a erook in the mercury tube pre- ! vented the mercury from ever descending. It could always rise, but it could never run back. So it was compelled to stay at the point of greatest temperature. When Prof. Agassiz unearthed his instruments, how- ever, he found a great uniformity in the general temperature of his mine. Lvi- dently the gradual rise in temperature did not hold in the Lake Superior district, in which the wine is located, as it did else- where. The question now arose, ‘‘Why was this so?’ Did it not have a strong bearing on the manner in which the earth cooled dur- ing geological ages?’ “Could not the con- dition be experimented upon and the re- sults be utilized in some economic man- ner?” Clearly the condition surrounding the copper mines in Michigan was the re- sult of the very low conductivity of the surrounding rock. Evidently this rock had not the power of conducting heat and cold to the degree mamfested by rock in other parts of the earth. The internal heat of the earth does not rise up through it as easily, for instance, as it does in the rock surrounding the well upon which Prof. Hallock experimented near Pittsburg, Just what is the difference, however, is not 80 easy to determine, aud this really is what Profs. Pierce and Willson, of Har- vard, are trying to find out. When they have done so they will have established a basis of calculation from which some new facts nay. be gleaned and upon which some startling theories may be built.—Cam- bridge Letter in Washington Star. Train Robber Killed. Four Amateurs Met a Hot Reception on an Over- land Train in California. The westhound overland passenger train was held up by four robbers about 1 o’clock Sunday morning between Daggett and Bars- tow south of San Bernardino. Express mes- senger Hutchinson drove them off with buckshot and the train pulled out for Los Angeles. At Barstow the train men sent a posse back to the scene of the holdup, where the body of one of the robbers was found perforated with shot. Two of the robbers boarded the engine at Daggett and crawled over the tender. The engineer stopped the train and succeeded in escaping to the coaches. Fred Blakely, a helper, who alsogot on the train at Dag- gett, fired at the two robbers and they jumped from the engine. They were evi- dently amateurs. The dead robber is a young maty: : A Sur: Sign. “Ellen, has George come home from school yet?’? called Mrs. Snaggs to her ser- vant.”’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ came back the answer. “Where is he?”’ “I havn’t seen him.” ‘‘How do you know, then, that he’s home?’ ‘‘Because the cat’s a-hidin’ under the dresser.” | Tow moon, encircled by a vellow ring, and Tempest in a Desert. A Travelers’s Description of a Sandstorm on the Arid Plains. Oar camp consists of nine tents, scatter- ed among dry and stunted acacias, on which the camels feed with evident relish, writes our war correspondent from the scene of the British operations on the Nile Beating down upon this arid plain is the fierce sun, which gives a temperature of 120 degrees in the shade. The heat and glare are intolerable. At midday one lies sweltering and gasping under a coating of sweat and sand, eyes, ears and nose are choked with dust, while flies, gnats and ants seek out the tenderest parts. There is no escape from these conditions. At first one sighs for a breath of wind to cool the burning air. When it comes the effect is disastrous. A blinding, suffocat- ing cloud of dust springs from the earth, sweeps over the camp and searches out every nook and cranny in hut and .tent. Is penetrates the most secret recesses of trunks and boxes, mingles with food and drink, and makes a sticky compound of sweat and mud under which the skin smarts and stings. Evening and morning are numbered amoung the delights of the desert. Under normal conditions they are pleasant enough, hut, unhappily, they are too often attended in these parts with violent storms of wind and sand devils. These ‘devils’? are whirlwinds of dust that gather volume and force as they sweep along, cutting fresh particles from the matrix of sand- stone rock and driving their myriads of atoms to swell the dust of the desert. Dur- ing the last few days we have had several opportunities of observing this process of nature. Last night my blankets were spread un- der the veranda of the tent. It was a beautiful night. Theair was calm, the sky was clear and the moon cast dark shadows of palm and mimosa on the white plain. Under these softening influences of light and sound the desert lost its terrors, and one looked dreamily on the picture until a solemn silence fell upon the camp and sleep sealed the eyelids. A moment later and the scene was changed. A breath of hot wind, as from a furnace, brought every tented sleeper to his feet with a gasp. In- stantly the camp was alive with sound and motion. The rush of the storm mingled with the neighing of horses, the groaning of camels, the fleating of goats and the fAlap- ping of canvas. The nioon was hidden behind a cloud of sand. Sand filled the air—a whirling 1ush- ing hail of atoms. As it swirled around and above the tents, straining ropes, dashing against canvas, tearing tent pegs out of the ground, one began to realize how frag- ile was the roof overhead and to be even thankful that it was not more substantial. The sand devil raged for half an hour with- out damage, save from tent pegs, which flew about rather dangerously. Every moment I expected the tent to collapse and go seudding before the storm. But it held fast, and covering my head with a blanket, I lay down, smothered in dust, while the struggle between the canvas and sand went on, with growing fierceness. The servants who lay on the sand, slept undisturbed until aroused by their masters. Then active operations began, and the sharp click of malletts falling on the tent peg, was heard through the storm. The tent next to mine was the first to go. It fell, or rather glided to the ground, and presently there emerged from the wreck- age three figures. Finding the position untenable, I made a virtue of necessity and struck my tent before further damage could be done. Having made fast the can- vass over my baggage and furniture, I drew by bed into the open, and wrapping my- | self in a blanket, lay sweltering and chok- ing until the storm abated. At dawn we were able to remove the traces of this ex- perience. The tents were soon pitched, furniture, clothes and boxes were dug out of the sand, and presently Abdul Hassan, Mahomed, and the other servants were “making kitchen’? and lighting fires under cover of some dead bushes.— London Stand- ard. Jennie O. Miller has received a ver- dict of $3,000 for injuries she sustained on a defecsive side-walk in Bradford, and Judge Morrison has ordered the city coun- cils to levy a special one mill tax or so much thereof as may be necessary to pay the claim. As Nansen Saw the Aurora Borealis. The aurora of the Yukon is intensely beautiful and brilliant during the long winter nights in the Arctic regions. It commences early in the fall, and greatly helps drive darkness from thas frozen land. As soon as the sun sets, it begins and flash- es its unwarming light along the frozen rivers and great banks of snow. The huge mountains of glistening ice, with their black lines of fir trees, stand out in heauti- ful relief; their tints of the purest Arctic cast, cause the inhabitant to shiver, and button his coat closer, and gladly seek a light of less brilliancy but of life giving warmth. During midwinter when the sun shines but four hours out of twenty-four, the au- rora is very intense, and helps wonderfully to light and beautify the long Arctic nights. Nansen in his book, Farthest North, beau- tifully describes the aurora borealis of the farthest northern region. He describes it as dreamy color music ; a far away, long- drawn-out melody on muted strings. One shade melts into another, so that you can- not tell where one ends and the other be- gins, yet they are all there. It is dream- land painted in the imagination’s most delicate tints; it is color etherealized, The sky is like an enormous cupola— blue at the zenith, shading down into green, and then into violet and lilac at the edges. Over the ice fields there are cold violet-blue shadows, with lighter pink tints where a ridge here and there catches the last reflection of the vanished day. Up in the blue of the cupola shine the stars, those unchanging friends, speaking peace, as they always do. In the South stands a large and red-yel- light golden clouds floating on the blue background. Presently the aurora shakes over the vault of heaven its veil of glitter- ing silver—changing now to yellow, now to green, now to red. It spreads, it con- trasts again in restless change; next it breaks into waving, many-folded bands of shining silver, over which shoots billows of glittering rays, and then the glory van- ishes. Presently it shimmers in tongues of flame over the very zenith, and then again it shoots a bright ray right up from the hori- zon, until the whole melts away into moon- light, and it is as though one heard the sigh of a departing spirit. Here and there are left a few waving streamers of light—, they are the dust from the aurora’s glitter- ing cloak. Now it grows again, new lightnings shoot up, and the matchless py- rotechnics begin afresh. And all the time an utter stillness reigns, impressive as the symphony of infinitude.—Satuirday Evening Post. Vienna's Victims of the Bubonic Plague. A Terrible Sacrifice to Science. Dr. A. S. Sappington, of Philadelphia, has just returned from Vienna, the seat of the recent outbreak of the bubonic plague. He knew Dr. Mueller and Herr Barisch, the two victims of the plague, and his ac- count of the manner in which the plague started is interesting. According to Dr. Sappington’s statement, it is very possible that the plague origi- nated in the laboratories of the General hospital of Vienna, a hospital of 7,000 beds, larger than all our city hospitals rolled in- to one. It was the custom when he was there to hand around specimens of the bubonic germ for microscopic inspection. Dr. Mueller was extremely interested in the disease and was one of the three doc- tors sent out from Vienna to Bombay in the early part of 1898 to study the plague, which was then at its height, and is still raging. After almost a year of tireless work the doctor came back to Vienna. Dr. Mueller made the study of the plague his specialty, and large classes of young men, mostly, strange to say, American doctors. who were abroad completing their education, came to study under him. The German doctor had brought with him numerous specimens of the germs tak- en from his patients in Bombay. These he carefully preserved in glass cases and actually began to breed them by means of a bullion or beef tea, in which he floated them. They were handed about the class for microscopic inspection, and the students were always cautioned to be careful in handling them. Among the young doctors was Herr Barisch. He caught the disease through careless handling of these germs and was promptly taken in charge by Dr. Mueller. The plague patient was placed in an iso- lated building near the General hospital. He was completely shut off from the out- side world. He wrote prescriptions and pasted them on the window. The physi- cians outside read them and placed the | desired medicines on the window ledge. Wien they had retired to a safe distance the medicine was taken in. Food for the valiant doctor and his patient was handed in the same way. All communication with the room was by means of the telephone. Li spite of all Tir. Mueller’s efforts and in spite of all his care he caught the conta- gion. He communicated the fact over the "phone to the outside world, and Dr. Poole, another enthusiast of the General hospital, volunteered his assistance, but he could not save either patient. The hospital chap- lain could not enter the isolated building where Dr. Mueller was confined, as other- wise he would have had to be isolated him- self. He accordingly proceeded with the host to the window of the room where the doctor was lying, and mounted upon some steps-held up the host to the doomed man. The priest was compelled to shout to make his voice heard, and the patient responded in dumb show. All through his hous of suffering before his death the doctor took notes and made observations concerning the progress of the disease in himself. As far is known, there is no cure yetdis- covered for the plague. All that can be done is to prevent its spread by isolation aud by fire. When it has killed within its scope it returns to the carth and lives there. The places that are known to be plague centres are Tripoli, Southwestern Arabia, Southern Asia, Persia, India and Kur- destan. In all of these countries it will be noticed when ever the weather is very hot. During the past week there sailed into the port of San Francisco the French bark Duchess Anne. Her captain and one of the szilors had died of the ‘‘black pest’ on the voyage. She came from Hong Kong. When she reached this side she was promptly put in quarantine. Four years ago an epidemic occurred in Hong Kong in which 2,500 souls died in three months, and the authorities in America re- gard the vessel as a pestship. The manner in which the disease spreads is wonderful on account of its virulence. Flies and fleas in 2 house where a plague victim is ‘lying die of the disease as they fly in the air. The germs seem to be every- where. Not only do they permeate every organ of the unfortunate one, but they lodge in the dust of the house and creep back into the earth and the foundations. Every living being about the place is rapid- ly infected and helps to convey the dis- ease to other houses. The rapidity with which the victim dies gives rise to the opinion among physicians that the temperature of the human body is adapted to the rapid growth and easy de- velopment of the bacilli. This opinion is further substantiated by the fact that the plague breaks out only in the hot seasons and in hot climes. The great London plague in 1665 was an exception to that rule, but the deadly work of the disease at that time, however, was no exception. Over 70,000 people died and a greater death rate was averted by the lucky accident of the town burning down in the midst of it. The common opinion in the public mind concerning the form of the disease is that it causes swellings and enlargements of the lymphatic glands. Tha is true as far as it goes, but the latest medical knowledge up- on the subject has developed the fact that that form of the disease is the mildest and the least fatal, but the real form, which is almost always fatal, does not show any swelling of the glands. It is simply a fever which kills in twenty-four hours. One of its peculiarities is that the patient has hemorrhages under the skin and the blood, collecting there, turns black, like the blood under a bruise, making the per- son apparently black all over, hence the ap- plication of the name, ‘‘Black death.” A Choir Angel, The small son of the people and his lit- tle sister were inside the great West Phil- adelphia church for the first time “‘Um— m-—my ! but it’s a beaut place,”’ he whis- pered. “I het people wot belong here comes every time dey can.’”” Her breath came to her in little gasps. Her soiled lit- tle fingers pressed on his with thrilled in- tensity. Her eyes fastened on the splendid chancel. ‘Heaven mus’ be nex’ door,” she said. They hardly moved throughout the service, and never once let go each other’s hands, for it was asa strange land. At last the sweet choired procession of choir boys came down the aisle. At its head was a slim young sereph., with a face as fair and pure as the linen he wore. Faint, dark circles beneath his eyes completed the ethereal effect. ‘‘Is dem angels?’ The little girl began, but stopped short, sur- prised at the look on her brother’s face.” ‘Dat kid in front’s Bill Griggs, wot I lick- ed last week fer swipin’ tings from ole Mrs. Maguire's apple stand. He ain’t got over dem black eyes I gev ’im yet. Come on let’s git out.” His face was stern and set as they went. She furtively wiped a tear. — Philadelphia Record. i ———— re] Bread According to Rorer. Brown Bread, Buns and German Horns. Bread, that staff of life with which many a young wife has fairly wrecked her bud- ding family, was the theme of Mrs. Ror- er’s lecture at the Food Exposition. First a word or two as to brown bread. While brown broad should not take the place of our every-day white bread, it is delicious occasionally. It is a boiled, not a baked, bread ; though it shonld be just as thor- oughly cooked, the outside heat making no particular difference. Since it has not to be kneaded, Indian meal and rye enter in- to its make-up. For Boston brown bread nix to- gether one cup of Yankee rye, one of cornmeal and one of whole wheat flour. Add a level teaspoonful of baking soda to a pint of thick sour milk; when foaming add a half cup of molasses. Turn this into the dry ingredients, add a level teaspoon- ful of salt; turn the mixture into a greased brown-bread mould, and steam continuous- Iy for five hours. Scald a half pint of milk; add two ounces of butter and two eggs, well beaten; add one yeast cake dissolved in about two tablespoonfuls of warm water and sufficient flour to make a soft dough. Knead light- ly and stand away until it doubles its bulk. When very light roll out; spread with butter; dust thickly with sugar and lightly with cinnamon and currants. Roll, cut into buns, stand in a greased pan, and then in a warm place for about an hour. Bake in a moderate oven 45 minutes and you will have good cinnamon buns. For German homs scald one pint of milk; add to it two tablespoon- fuls of butter; when lukewarm add one yeast cake and sufficient flour to make a soft dough. When very light roll out, cut into crescents; stand them in a greased pan, and when very light run into a quick oven for 15 minutes. When they’re half done you’ve to draw them to the oven door, brush with a glaze made from white of egg, sugar and milk; dust thickly with chopped almonds and return them’ to the oven to hrown. These make delicious little biscuits for luncheons or dinners, where butter is not served. Beside this, Mrs. Rorer made a recipe of whole wheat bread. Select whole wheat flour, free from outside bran. Pour one pint of boiling water into one pint of sweet milk. When lukewarm add one compress- ed yeast cake (a half ounce). dissolved in two tablespoonfuls of warm water, and one teaspoonful of salt. Mix and stir in suffi- cient whole wheat flour to makea batter that will drop from a spoon. Beat well; cover and stand in a warm place (75 de- grees IPahrenheit) for three hours until very light. Then stir in more flour, enough to make a soft dough. Knead lightly until the greater part of the stickiness is lost. As this cannot be made dry like the or- dinary white hread, it must he handled quickly and lightly on the hoard. Mould it into four or six loaves, according to the size of your pans, and place in the greased pans. Cover and stand -aside again in a warm place for an hour. Bake in a moder- ately quick oven 35 or 40 minutes. For white bread pour one pint of boiling water into one of. milk; when lukewarm add one teaspoonful of salt and one-half ounce of compressed yeast cake, dissolved ina quarter cup of warm water. Mix and stir in sufficient flour to make a dough. Turn this on a board and knead thoroughly, till soft and elastic. Put it back in the bowl, cover and stand for three hours, in 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Then form into loaves, put into greased pans, cover again and stand in a warm place for an hour. Brush with water and bake in a quick oven one hour if in square loaves, or one-half if in long French pans. Fudge. This delightful confection which is known variously as ‘‘fudge,” ‘chocolate fudge,” and ‘Vassar fudge’’ is made in the following simple manner: Put in a porcelain-lined saucepan 2 cups of granula- ted sugar. 4 sections of unsweetened choco- late (broken into bits), 2 heaping table- spoonfuls of butter, and one cup of milk. Cook all together, stirring constantly to prevent burning, for twenty minutes. At the end of that time dip out a little of the mixture and try it by putting it on a cold plate. If it is done it will form a soft yet pliable paste. Flavor the contents of the saucepan with vanilla, beat hard for a few minutes, and turn the ‘‘fudge’ into greased candy pans. Cut into squares while warm. Many persons eat this popular delicacy while still hot, at which time it is particu- larly delicious ; but before venturing upen this daring act one must be very certain as to the enduring powers of his digestive ap- paratus.—Harper’s Bazar. ——When properly made, rice and mush- room croquettes form a delicious luncheon entree. Open a can of mushrooms (the French champignons) several hours before you make the croguettes, and drain off the liquor. Stew them for ten minutes in mutton or chicken stock, drain again, and chop. Save the soup-stock, and cook in it halt a dozen tablespoonfuls of rice. The rice will soak up all the broth, unless there is more than is necessary. Add to the soft rice the mushrooms, 2 teaspoonfuls of melted butter, the beaten yolks of 2 eggs, and season with pepper and salt. When this paste is thoroughly cold, flour your hands and make it into croquettes. Roll these in egg and cracker dust, and set them for several hours in the ice-chest before fry- ing in deep fat.— Harper's Bazar. ——The simplest form of casserole of rice may be prepared by boiling a cup of rice in a pint of well seasoned chicken bouillon until tender, and until each grain stands separate. When the rice is quite dry make a firm mound of it on a platter, wash with the yolk of an egg, sprinkle with Parmason cheese, and brown in a very hot oven. This dish may be served with tomato sauce. Composition on Breathing. A boy 13 years old, was told to tell all he knew about breathing in a composition, wrote the following: “Breathing is made of air. We breathe with our lungs, our liver and kidneys. If it wasn’t for our breathe we would die when we slept. Our breath keeps the life agoing through the nose when we are asleep. Boys that stay in a room all day should not breathe. They should wait till they get out doors. Boys in a room make bad unwholesome air. They make carboncide, it is poisoner than mad dogs. A heap of soldiers was in a black hole in India and a carboncide got in that hole and killed nearly everyone, afore morning. Girls kill the breath with corsets that squeeze the diagram. Girls can’t holler or run like boys because their diagram is squeezed too much. If I was a girl I had rather be a hoy, so I could run and holler and have a great big diagram.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers