Sd [Re IEE . CHRISTMAS TALE, — COPYRIGHT. 1898, BY THE AUTHOR: ——— - - BY" SEPH A.ALTSHELER. NN The battle trod to and fro in the dark- ness and the whirling snow; tiny blue flames, nearly smothered by the night and the melting flakes, shot up from the half burned houses, flickered awhile and then went out, to be succeeded by others as feeble; rifle shots rattled in irregular vol- leys, and the smoke from the gun muzzles increased the obscurity which was scarce- ly broken by the flashes from the weapons and the faint light of the smoldering tim- bers. The wind with an edge of ice whirled here and there and impartially drove gusts of snow into the faces of the combatants, but could not dim their rage. Passion and courage were equal in each, and though the maim battle had passed on their own little corner of the struggle was as important to them as the fate of great armies, and neither would yield the ground which had already become where they fought a slippery mire of red mud and SNOW. 8 | aisles, the pulpit at the far end, the stair- Fleming, the first lieutenant, was shout- ing to his men and gesticulating with his ; sword, broken at the point by a rifle ball, though he had never noticed it. The big flakes struck in his eyes and blinded him at times, but he fought on, encouraging his soldiers, struggling through the mire, ' and watching the combat as best he could + THEN THE WILD RUSH CARRIED HIS LITTLE BAND UPON THE ENEMY. by the feeble light of the burned bufld- ings. The difficulties of the battlefield, the snow, the darkness, the flerce resist- ance of the enemy, his inability to drive them back, filled him with the unreason- ing rage of youth. A man who despised oaths he began to use them with rapidity and unction and was unconscious of do- ing so. But his soldiers needed no spur from their commander. Evans, the sec- ond lieutenant, a year younger than him- self—Fleming had reached the honorablo age of 20—was by his side, firing with his pistols at the flitting black forms that op- posed them, afid around the two lieuten- ants fought a little band of splashed and begrimed ‘men with a’ courage and energy equal to those of their leaders. A wall of a house fell on a bed of live coals and the timbers blazed up with sud- den vividness, cutting through the dark- ness and casting a distorting light over the snow, the ruined village and the fight- ing men. Fleming paused for a moment to grasp his field of battle by the new light that had come. The flames magnified some ob- jects, diminished others and made the whole unreal and fantastic. The forms of his enemies wavered as the flames flick- ered and grew to gigantic size, the bloody spots on the snow spread and united, and the scorched rafters of an abandoned house made an ugly black tracery in the sky. In the momentary stillness that had seized | them all Fleming heard the sputtering of the snowflakes as they fell in the flames. Being able now to see his battlefield, the lieutenant knew that the little church which stood somawhat to his right was its key, and, shouting to‘his men to follow, he rushed forward that he might seize it at once and cut off his enemy. ~ The soldiers fired a volley and dashed toward the church, but the leader of the hostile band was as quick of eye and as ready of action as Fleming, and when the lieutenant and his men entered one door of the church their antagonists dashed in at the other. Fleming’s wrath flamed to its highest pitch. It seemed a personal injustice to himself that his foe should be so stubborn and so prompt, and his resolve to over- come him grew with his anger. He stop- ped just inside the door, and his men gathered around him. The room was dim, but Fleming saw the outlines of the benches and at the far end the pulpit. The building, until then outside the line of battle, seemed to have been untouched. {I'he light from the blazing house flared in at the window and fell across the faces of his enemies. who were entering at the farther door. Neither side gave a thought to the character of ‘the place, but both knew that a fierce struggle was sure to follow for the possession of so strong a fort as a brick building, and they prepared at once for the issue. Three or four of the heavy wooden benches, which served as pews hastily thrown together, made a gooc breastwork, and standing behind it Flem- ing and his men waited to see what the enemy would do The hostile leader waited, too, perhaps with the same purpose, and again the building was silent. * The fallen wall was burning finely and the light from it now shone through the window with «a steady radiance and drove .a¢ dusk from the room Fleming listened intently and heard nothing from without ‘I'ne battle, save for his own part in it, scen:ed to have end- #d or to have gone far away The snow, driven against the window panes, gleamed red in the light of the flames. apd the wind increased in violence All this was but the aifair of a moment. and then Fleming turned the full attention of eye and ear to his enemy That the two little bands had been left to fight their battle alone was no inducement to him to draw away from the conflict; rather ib increased his desire to triumph, for the field was now wholly his own Evans whispered to him | sprang up the stairway with the others in that they must rush ihe rebels, and Flem- ing, nodding his head, gave a quick com- | mand to the men, who leaped over the | hasty fortification that they no longer de- ! sired and rushed upon their enemies, the | lieutenants, as always, at their head. i Fleming knew that it was a bold plan | allied to rashness, but he trusted that suc- | cess would come from its suddenness and that he would be upon his antagonists be- | fore they could recover from their surprise | and shoot down his men. A few swift | steps took him across the room. He was filled with a fierce exultation, for he be- lieved that he was about to triumph, but even in the wild rush of the moment and with a mind concentrated upon the im- pending struggle, he observed the room again, the rows of wooden benches, the way that led to the second floor, and the | light through the window flaring redly | over everything. Then the wild rush car- | ried his little band upon the enemy, and, | as he had hoped, the surprise of the sud- den movement made its success. ‘ A few scattering shots that went wild | were fired at them, and then they were over the benchesand in the midst of the trium- phant combat. Fleming was burning with the battle fever, and again he began to | shout to his men and utter oaths of which | he was unconscious, striking with his sword and calling at times upon his an- tagonists to yield. i He found that he was opposed by sol- | diers as valiant as his own. Beater by numbers, those who were not wounded or | taken by force refused to surrender, and | wheeling about as if by a sign from their leader rushed up the stairway, which be- | gan almost at their feet, and sought refuge and a second defense on the next floor. | Disappointment now mingled with Fleming’s anger, but neither emotion caused him to forget for the moment his military prudence. Hastily dispatching a | ; few of his men to keep watch at the win- | dows outside and prevent escape there, he | quick pursuit of the fugitives. Rage and excitement blinded him to the danger of shots from above, and Evans, as eager as himself, pressed on by his side, while the men crowded close after, the wooden stair- | way giving a dull echo under their foot- | | steps. The light from the flames of the burn- "ing village did not reach the second floor, , and Fleming stood for a moment or two trying to accustom his eyes to the dusk. As the pupils distended he saw the last of the fugitives disappearing in a small room, and then he heard the slamming of the door and noises which indicated prepara- tions for defense. A little gray haired man in civilian’s attire and with a face of fright sprang from a dark corner where he had been crouching and darted to a win- dow, at which he pulled vainly with trem- bling fingers as if he would open it and spring out. Fleming looked quickly about that he might seize the salient points of this last battlefield. He paid no attention to the civilian, supposing him to be the sexton | or some one else in charge of the building who had hidden there in fright while the fight was going on below. As his men paused with him to await his orders he felt for a sudden moment the solemn still- | ness of the place and its character, but the silence was quickly interrupted by a beat- ing ou the door of the room in which the fugitives had taken refuge, and he knew that they were breaking loopholes for their rifles. At the sound his passion, which had died for an instant, flamed up again, and he hastily drew his men to a far cor- ner where the rifle barrels, even when thrust through the holes in the door, could not secure their range. Then while he whispered with Evans and the two tried to decide what would be best to do in the doubtful situation the curious silence which had in it so much that was solemn and impressive fell again over the place. The defenders had broken the holes in the door and were motionless and silent, awaiting the advance of their assailants, who still stood in their corner hesitating. Only faint gleams of light came through the panes, but the eyes of the soldiers be- came accustomed to the dusk. The gray haired little man had ceased his efforts to open the window and stood with his back to it, his face expressing his fright and horror at what had happened and what was about to happen. Fleming hcard the ticking of a clock | somewhere over his head, but he did not fook up to see. In his indecision his eyes wandered to the civilian, and he was amused at tka old man’s fright. But, “STOP? SAID THE OLD MAN IN A FIRM VOICE. then, he had no business there and must | take his chances. The fight could not ! pause for him. Yet the wrinkled face and | the pinched features attracted and held | Fleming's eyes, and he wondered in a vague way what the man would do— whether he would crouch again in the cor- ner or make another effort to escape by | the window. The man’s eyes met his own | and stared into them with a gaze that | seemed to the young lieutenant to be full | »f reproach and upbraiding. { Fleming could not account for the in- Jduence of this stranger, and the sudden AORN : ence of the accusing look, and his mind | purpose, the destruction of the rebels who strength of the gaze that met his own and | held him back from his purpose, for the figure of the old man was not command- ing, and his fright was obvious. He was about to order him down the stairs, but at that moment the civilian raised himself up, and his eyes grew bolder. Fleming with the quickness of intuition saw that this old man whom he had de- spised felt one of those sudden inspirations | of courage which sometimes come even to cowards. He saw the expansion of the figure, the brightening of the eye, the look. | that was prophetic, and again he paused | ashe was about to give a command. “Stop!’”’ said the old man ina firm voice, raising his hand and pointing an accusing forefinger at Fleming. The lieutenant hesitated and looked at him in wonder. ‘*What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘‘Stop, I say!’’ repeated the old man. Fleming laughed and with contempt. He had thrown off the momentary influ- returned with full force to his original had intrenched themselves in the room. - ‘Out of the way!’ he exclaimed an- grily. ‘‘We’re going to storm that room in there, and we will not be responsible for stray bullets.’ . The old man did not shrink back at the officer’s emphatic command. His eyes | FLEMING AND EVANS SALUTED THEM WITH MILITARY COURTESY. were shining with a feverish excitement and his courage seemed to grow as the fever rose. ‘Stop, I tell you again!’ he shouted. ‘This is murder that you and those in that room, too, are bent upon !"’ “It is war!”’ ‘It is not war! The battle is over, and you fight here without purpose! What is the possession of this church to either of you? And to fight. too, at such a time!” Fleming looked scornfully at the old man who yet held his attention and im- pressed him. ‘*At such a time?’ he repeated. ‘It’s true that it’s night, and the snow is fall- ing, but we’re not parlor soldiers to seek our tents because of a winter night.’’ “It’s more than a winter night,” said the old man sternly, raising his accusing finger again and pointing it at Fleming. “Listen!”’ The unseen clock overhead began to strike, and Fleming and his men, awed de- spite themselves by the old man’sinanner, counted the strokes under their breath. One, two, three, they counted, and on up to 12, standing in silence and making no movement, as if some new power possessed thems. Nor did any sound come from the room in which their enemics lay, and Fleming believed that they, too, had been listening to the old mun’s words. Then he grew angry at himself and sought to shake off the spell. ‘Did you hear that?’ man ‘Yes, I heard it,” said Fleming, **and 1 heard sothing but a clcek striking mid- night.” ** But what a midnight!’ exclaimed the other "And do you not know what morn- ing has begun?’’ Without waiting for an answer, he seized a rope which hung by the wall and as he pulled with strong and practiced hand a bell far above them began to ring. Its mellow note, steady and strong, echoed through the night, which heard no other sound now, and rose and fell in a song of joy. Listening to its music, Fleming for- got for a moment the wildness of the win- ter night and the lust of battle which had burned so fiercely in his veins. *¢ Listen, listen, I tell you!’ exclaimed the old man, his face transfigured by the ecstasy which possessed him. *‘Is not that a better sound than the crack of rifles and the groans of dying men? Again, I ask asked the old you do you not know what morning has | begun?’ “How should T know?” asked Fleming | ‘How can any man who has been march- ing and fighting and skirmishing for weeks keep track of time?’ > ‘‘This is the night of the 24th of De- cember, and it’s Christmas morning now,’ | cried the old man, ‘‘the night when Christ | was born and came into the world to preach forgiveness and to teach men to love one another! I’ve rung that morning in with this bell every year for the last 50 years, and I came here tonight to do it again, though you’ve followed me and fought in the church itself. Stand back, I tell you! You shall not fight here with the bells of Christmas morning ringing in | your ears in It seemed to Fleming that the man’s manner now had the dignity and force that we ascribe to the Hebrew prophets of old. His littleness had disappeared, he God would strike you dead for showed no semblance of fear, and his eyes | blazed with the force of the spirit that was in him. . The notes of the bell rose far above the whistle of the wind, and even in the pres- ence of those who carried arms in their hands to kill tcld of peace on earth and good will to men. The sanguinary scenes of the night passed out of Fleming’s mind for a moment, and in their place he saw the peaceful Christmas morning of his childhood. Then he looked weakly at Evans, as if he would seek counsel from his second in command. ‘*Lower your weapons!” cried the old man, who never ceased his ringing. “I tell you again that God will strike you dead if you fight in his house at sucha time. What a sacrilego. and you but boys!” 3 The fever in Fleming’s veins was dying. lust of combat was passing from them, In his ears rang the joyful note of the bell telling him that Christ was born and had come on earth to teach peace and good will among men. He turned his eyes from his men to those of the sexton, who pulled the rupe with regular and rhythmic stroke, and they fell before the gaze of the old man. ‘**And you purpose to fight here!’ flam- ed out the old man ‘‘You should be down on your knees and thank God that you are alive this Christmas morning. Listen to my bell! It is declaring peace, and no other voice stall be heard in this place.” : The last touch of the battle fever passed from Fleming’s veins, but he looked ques- tioningly at the door behind which his enemies had fortified themselves The old man’s eyes followed his. “They, too, shall put down their guns while the Christmas bell is ringing,” he cried. ‘Come out! promise that they will pot fire upon you.” i iron galvanized. This makes a house a These men give their | | way over the 100 mark, and every one in ‘“Yes, we promise,” said Fleming me- | chanically, his mind still wandering back | with the notes of the bell to other Christ- mas mornings. ** There is nothing to fight for here, any- | way,’’ said Evans in a low voice. “Not now at least,’’ replied Fleming in the same tone. The door in front of them was opened, and their enemies, gun muzzles down, came slowly out. Fleming and Evans saluted them with military courtesy. ‘*About face!’’ said Fleming to his men. Then with their lieutenants at their stairway and through the church and out into the snow and past the smoldering embers of the houses to their camp. And | above them and around them the clear notes of the bell were proclaiming that Christ was born on earth and peace and ! good will should reign aniong men. Santa Ciaus' Predicament. Santa Claus seemed upset. He stood off, put his hands in his pockets and gazed in puzzled despair at the row of long limp stockings. Here was a sticker. He went up to one, turned it inside out, inspected it, twisted it, counted its checks and again stood off and looked at it in an agony of despairing uncertainty. ‘‘Well, I'll be blowed,’’ said Santa, ‘if in these days of bicycling, I can tell which is a man’s and which is a woman’s.” Then a sudden smile wreathed round his troubled face. “But I guess a 49 cent bicycle lamp will do in either case!”’ The Deception of Song. He gayly rhymed of mistletoe And ruby lips so long, you know; He thought he’d rather like to see Just what ‘twas in reality. He tried, and that young doubting Thomas Was straightway sued for breach of promise. Oh, yes, he still writes little rhymes, But now of snow and Christmas chimes! He pipes his sweet Pierian lute To pay that breach of promise suit! 4 The vagrant snowflake\f Within, the scene is gay an And bright as summer ski blithely Love cooes like a Beneath the mistietoe. > Beneath the mistletoe; V N Beneath the mistletoe. ) 4 is, shape nowhere is seen; Joy jeads apy [9 "3% ¢ fa A J fireside glow, 8 Q sharp and keen. 7 TT " 1 \) IN X oa id jthe blazes wrap the mossy log) That sputters soft and low, 3 Beneath the mistletoe, Mary. bo 1You make a bright Arabian night Misshapen Care skulks in desparr; 2 the dance with grace X bright, enwreathed in Time flies, mirth-stoled, on wi 4) Beneath the mistietoe. \ : ly] Beneath the mistletoe, Mary, \\. : ) Beneath the mistictoe; : er how Pll catc!y you now w Christmas rhymes and Chastmas chimes | Send forth their Christmas cheer, Il} While Christmas Joys and Christmas toys In merry hosts appear e earth is Love’s own bower today, y With geed will all aglow; L B ove's wing fanned, ‘tis fairyland ‘A Beneath the mistletoe. Beneath the mistletoe, Mary, nest is here with you, my Beneath the mistletoe. ‘ ve aA Fm mR ge smiles, ”, 2 \ th the mistletoe. th the mistletoe; ! dear, R. K. MUNKITTRICK. | | | | i | | i i | head the little band marched down the 1 1 | rience,’’ | was wittily summed up by the great gov- : seal blubber. He looked at his men and saw that the | | to celebrate Christmas in good old fash- ; ioned style. , evergreens, and come one hung up a i ily we had an ice factory there, and so se- | cared small blocks of comfort at 4 orb ! cents a pound. i were unalloyed delight.” Wire BS I ( 5 “0 fs ye age Cl, SVE Z It was at a pleasant dinner party at a | famous New York hotel, when the con- | ; ““sation turned to the approaching ~aristmas. The guests were of various callings, but all were qualified to join the Travelers’ club, having visited at least three continents. “What was the oddest Christmas you ever spent?’’ asked one at a pause in the general chat. ‘I certainly can claim the most norther- ly one,’ said Captain Leonard Smith, for- merly of New Bedford. ‘It was when I was whaling in the arctic seas and my ship was icebound in the pack about 100 miles north of Alaska. It was a beautiful day, clear, quiet and intensely cold. The stars looked like sharp points, the moon like a clean cut silver disk and the heavens as black as sin. Scientifically it was day, but as a matter of fact it was pure mid- night. Our bill of fare was wonderful. We had seething punch, tea and coffee. Our meats were corned beef, corned pork, and, best; of all, some polar bear meat and I will not recommend seal blubber for these latitudes, but in the far north, after many months on salt horse and canned goods, it’s as delicious as boiled chicken. We had potatoes, carrots, yellow turnips and gingerbread pudding with real raisins in it. There wasn’t a dish any one here would look at at the present moment, but all on board vowed it was the finest banquet they could recall.” *‘If I did not have the most southerly Christmas, I had certainly the hottest,” remarked William Pender McLean, once editor of the Hongkong Telegraph, but now a Gothamite. ‘‘It was at Port Dar- win, in Australia, which, next to the Mo- have desert, is probably the hottest spot on earth. December there is equivalent to our June, and the weather of their Christ- mas is that of our Fourth of July. “On account of that frightful scourge, the white ant, timber cannot be used in house construction, so that the roofs are made of iron girders and corrugated eheet veritable oven. The thermometer was our party was a picture of perspiration and discomfort. But we were determined ‘“We had a Christmas tree, wreaths and bunch of what he called mistletoe. Luck- Every drink, excepting the punch, was iced, and every food, ex- cepting the turkey and plum pudding. was cold. ‘‘One poetic youth shook a belt of sleigh bells to arouse the imagination and an- other read aloud Dickens’ immortal Christmas carol. We tried to picture the nipping cold enjoyed by Scrooge and Mar- ley’s ghost, but the effort proved futile. Yet the awful heat could not weaken tho Christmas spirit, and both dinner and day ‘‘The oddest Christmas of my expe- observed Dr Edward Bedloe, United States consul at Canton, China, TTR was in 1892, while cross- No je the Pacific ocean to 2 \} NN San Francisco. On the NAN NN evening of Christmas day \ nN we reached the ore hun- . dred and eightieth degree THE COLDEST CHRISTMAS, of west longitude, where there is no time. Here when a ship is going west an entire day is’” dropped from the calendar, so that you go to bed Wednesday night and wake up Fri- day morning. In going east, you reverse the process and repeat the day. ‘* By extraordinary luck this happened to me, as I said, on Christmas, so that I had two Christmas days the same year. Tho captain of our good Pacific Mail steamer told us that the event had never happened before in the history of the com- pany and to the best of his knowledge had never happened before to any craft. If that be true, the 60 passengers and 150 crew may well boast of their experience. ‘*But two consecutive Christmas days are not a success. The dinner of the sec- ond day seems insipid by contrast with that of the first, and the merriment of the latter is succeeded by weariness on the former. It is a curious place, that one hundred and eightieth degree of longitude It plays havoc with grammar and time. ‘* According to the way you are going you can say truthfully: ‘Tomorrow is to- day and today was yesterday. Today was vesterday and tomorrow will be today. Tomorrow has no yesterday, and yester- day has no tomorrow.’ Thoughts like these are confusing, to say the least.’ ‘1 can claim credit for the wettest Christmas, ’’ cheerily voiced Walter Hutch- incon, the traveling agent of a great Liver- pool house. ‘‘It was in the Malay coun- try near Singapore. The climate there ernor Sir Stamford Raffles as consisting of ‘two seasons, the wet and the dry. In the latter it rainsevery 15 minutes; inthe former all the time.’ Christmas eve “it was shower, shower, shower. During the night it poured. Christmas morning the | landscape was like a mermaid’s paradise. The road was a line of unbroken water, the river not far away seemed a moving deluge, the fields were sheets of water, broken by bushes and trees in mathe- | matical patterns and the uncultivated | land was an overflowed marsh. ! ‘‘The air was ful of warm steam, and! WORLD WILLIAM E.S. FALES. Copyright. 1898, By the authisr) yeu could almost feel the vegetation grow- ing. The table linen and clothing were damp. The water condensed on furniture and trickled in little streams down- the walls. If a boat had sailed into the draw- ing room, it would have caused no sur- prise. My host had a blazing fire in his fireplace, a poor imitation of the real ar- ticle, but it cast a ruddy glow in the room, and, what was better still, made a pleas- ant draft. We did not think of snow or ice or any other form of water. We had too much of it around us everywhere.” ‘“My oddest Christmas was in Egypt,” told the writer. ‘‘I was the guest of a dear friend, Dr. James F. Love, pasha, who was attached to the khedive’s staff. His home was a palace similar in architecture to those in Italian cities, but cclored in Arab suggestions. Within it was truly oriental. Inlaid and ara- =|besqued furniture, relics of Pharaohs, Ptolemies, Pheenicians and : Ro- THE ghan rugs, lion and tiger skins, servants yellow, brown and black. Lux- 2 = ury, almost Gh everywhere. Outside the palms nodded and huge Persian rosebushes thrust their glorious branches into the ° windows. Listless fellahin, scowling Bedouins, stalwart Sudanese, crafty Ar- menians and sinister Levantines passed to and fro. On the corner Tommy Atkins in scarlet coat and with bayoneted rifle stood on guard, making the traveler thank God for Great Britain. There was a Christmas dinner with an eastern finish. The turkey was stuffed with pistachio ‘nuts and Indian spices, the soup was mul- ligatawny, the fish was red mullet, the entree was a dainty Turkish pilau, the coffee was the same Mocha as the khe- dive’s, and one of the wines came from the same Alexandrian vineyard which sup- plied the Caesars. There was a plum pud- ding imported from England, and, most wonderful of all, corn bread, New England mince pie and canned stewed terrapin from Philadelphia. In special honor of the day we drank from cups of which the youngest may have seen Mahmoud the Terrible and the oldest might have touched Moses’ lips when he was a youth in the royal court of the Nile. One of the period of Cmsar, a humble picce of pottery, may have refreshed Joseph and Mary in their flight into Egypt. Where we sat we were in touch with 4,000 years of history = The very site of the palace may have felt the - feet of Alexander, Ptolemy, Cleopatra. Mark Antony, Bishop Cyril and Napo- leon Through an open door we could catch a glimpse of a matchless prie dieu. and in its center a wonderful crucifixion carved by a master’s hand looked down upen the place.” “Woodman, Spare That Tree!” ‘Don’t you think, dear,’’ said Mrs. Fir- kins, '‘that it is time we were seeing about getting the Christinas tree for the chil- dren?’’ “No, my dear, 1 don't,” said Mr. Fir- kins, with great sternness ‘‘We've got ‘to stop that sort of thing.’' “Why?” said Mrs. Firkins. “Because I've been locking into the matter,” returned Firkins, ‘and I-have become impressed with the necessity for the preservation of our forests. It’s a very grave matter, my dear; very grave indeed! No patriotic citizen can after this conscisntiously encourage the reckless eut- ting of pine and hemlock. ‘And I’m not going to help ruin our forests for any old Christmas superstition!’ : Then he went down town for a box of Christmas cigars for himself... For the Sake of Self Protection. When Mr. Nuwed rushed into his favor: ite cigar store, the perspiration was rolling - down his face, and he looked excited. **Quick, Charlie!” he said:to the young - man behind the counter. ‘‘Get out a box of Cuba Superbas for me! be in here in five minutes to buy me a box of cigars, and she’ll try to buy ’em for 59° cents. Here's $5. Sell her those Superbas for the 59 cents, old man, and save my" life.” : “i” Sant i And as Mrs. Nuwed stepped timidly in: her affectionate but precautionary spouse; stepped out the back way. 1 ati HER-TASK- That- holidays-make- folk. idle I-don’t-believe: Each-maideh- mends-hersfockings One Chvistmas-Eve. Sr and spent $5. * ¥ My wife will
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers