Diemorvaic: acon
Bellefonte, Pa., May Il. 1900.
ROBERT HARDY’S SEVEN DAYS.
A Dream and Its Consequences.
BY REV. CHARLES SHELDON.
Author of “In His Steps.” ** The Crucifixion of Philip
Strong,” Malcolm Kirk,” Ete.
(Copyright, 1900, by Advance Publishing Co.)
(BEGUN IN No. 12, MarcH 23, 1900.)
“Blind and deaf and dumb!” mur-
mured Mr. Hardy, while his wife sat
down and buried her face in the bed-
clothes and sobbed. It seemed terrible
to them.
The doctor, after a little further ex-
amination, said nothing more could be
done at present, gave directions for
certain necessary treatment and de-
parted after giving a look at Will and
Bess and prescribing for them.
Mr. Hardy went down stairs and
quietly told James all that the doctors
had said. To a man living on the
verge of eternity, as Mr. Hardy was,
there was no time for evasions or the
postponing of bad news or the utter-
ance of soft speeches.
James took the news more calmly
than Mr. Hardy thought he would. It
was evident he did not realize all that
was meant by it.
“Can you love Clara under these con-
ditions?” asked Mr. Hardy, looking
at James with a sympathy that the
young man could not help feeling.
“Yes, sir; more than ever. Why, is
she not more in need of it than ever?”
“True, but what can you do with a
helpless creature like that?”
“Gold help us, sir! If she were my
wife now and were dependent on me,
don’t you think I could care for her
tenderly, better than any one else in
the world ?”
Mr. Hardy shook his head. “This is
a hard blow to me, James. I don’t
know just what to say yet. But it is
possible the poor girl may not have to
suffer all that. Let us hope the doctor
is not justified in his supposition. In-
deed, he said he could not tell for cer-
tain that loss of hearing and speech
would follow. If it does, I cannot see
how Clara can retain her reason when
she recovers from the shock. James, I
believe you are a good fellow. I have
not forgotten my own courtship. 1
will not stand in the way between you
and your love for Clara in anything
right and reasonable. I had hoped
we might have a good talk together
over the matter. This accident has
made it impossible for a time at least,
but I confide in you as an honest, true
man. We must wait for events to take
shape. Meanwhile let us pray God to
give us wisdom and lead us into the
way we need to go.”
James Caxton listened to Mr. Hardy
with a feeling of astonishment. This
was not the Robert Hardy he had |
known all his life; this was a new
man. For a moment his own hopes
and fears were almost lost sight of in
the thought of the great change in the
elder man. In a tumult of feeling he
went home after begging Mrs. Hardy
to send him word if Clara became
worse or if there were any service he
could render the family.
Robert went back up stairs, where
his wife sat by the side of the injured
girl.
“Mary,” he said. “I must go down to
the shops. You know I left word with
Wellman to do what he could in the
office until I could get down, but this
accident has made it imperative that 1
be there myself. There are details the
men cannot attend to. I cannot do any
more here, and I must do what I can
for the sufferers. God has been merci-
ful to us, dear. Our dear ones are
spared to us. Ol, when I heard Bes-
sie’s voice in that hell’s pit it seemed
to me God was taking pity on me for
the burden I am carrying this week!
And if she had been killed 1 do believe
I should have gone mad. Pray for me,
sweetheart!”
And with a kiss and embrace Robert
left the house, and even in the sorrow
of all her trouble Mrs. Hardy felt a
great wave of joy tlow through her at
the thought of a love come back to
her, and as she went to the window
and watched the tall, strong figure
swing down the street she almost felt
a girl again and wondered if he would
turn around and see her there and toss
his hat to her as in the old days. Yes;
just before he reached the corner
where he had to turn he looked back
up at the window, saw his wife stand-
ing there and took oft his hat, with a
smile, and she waved her hand at him
and colored as when her Robert used
to do the same thing while he was
courting her.
“Two fools!” somebody says. Yes;
two children of God who have seen
his face and learned what all this life
means.
He found much to do at the shops.
The accident necessitated special work.
It looked to him as if he must be down
there all day. There was almost a pan-
ic in the planing rooms. The air was
heavy with the horror of the night be-
fore. Owing to the wreck there was
more need of work in the shops than
ever, but along toward noon Burns
came into the office, pulling a long face
and asking Mr. Hardy to step across
the yard and talk to the men, who had
threatened, Burns said. to do mischief
if they were not given the afternoon to
go down to the scene of the disaster.
Mr. Hardy, with a sinking heart, rose
and followed Burns into the planing
rooms. He told the foreman to get the
men together in the center of the room.
They stopped their machines and gath-
ered in the largest open space between
the planers, and Mr. Hardy addressed
them:
“What do you want? Burns tells me
there is dissatisfaction. Speak out so
that we may know what the trouble
1s.”
There was an awkward pause. Then
one man spoke up:
“We think the company ought to give
us the day off.”
“What for?’ asked Mr. Hardy mildly.
Under any other circumstances he
would have told the men they might
leave for good if they didn’t like the
pay and the company. He had done
just that thing twice before, but things
were different now. He looked at the
men in a new light. He was a new
man himself. Besides, it was impera-
tive that the work in the shops go on.
The company could ill afford to lose
the work just at this particular time.
All these considerations did not blind
Robert to his obligations as an officer
of the company. He was only anxious
that no injustice should be done, so he
said, “What for?” mildly and quietly
and waited for an answer.
The spokesman was not quite ready
with an answer. The directness of the
question and the mildness of it also
surprised him. Another man spoke up:
“Our friends were in the accident.
We want to go see them.”
“Very well. How many men had
relatives or friends in the accident
who are injured or killed? Let them
step forward.”
There was a moment of inaction.
Then three men stepped out. Mr. Har-
Instantly Mr. Hardy stepped up between
the two men before Rha could rise.
dy said: “You may go if you want to.
Why didn’t you ask for leave off if you
wanted it? What reason have you to
suppose the company would refuse
such a request? Now, what is the
trouble with the rest? The company
is not in a position to grant a holiday
at this particular time, and you know
it. Come, be fair, men! I can’t shut
down the shops all day to let you go
and see a railroad wreck. Be reasona-
ble! What do you want?”
“We want more pay and freedom
from Sunday work,” said a big fellow,
the Norwegian who ran the biggest
planer in the shop. He had more than
once proved troublesome to Burns, but
he was a remarkably intelligent and
skillful workman, and the foreman had
endured much irritation on that aec-
count.
Mr. Hardy replied, still speaking
pleasantly, “The matter of more pay is
one we cannot well discuss here now,
but I will say to you and all the rest
that as far as it is in my power there
shall be no more Sunday work de-
manded”—*“while I live,” Mr. Hardy
was on the point of saying, but he
said instead, “of the men in the shops.”
“Still, that is not the question,” re-
plied the man in an insolent tone. Mr.
Hardy looked at him more closely and
saw that he had been drinking. Sev-
eral of the workmen cried out:
“Shut up, Herman! Mr. Hardy be
right! We be fools to make row now
at this time!”
A dozen men started for their ma-
chines to go to work again, while
Burns went up and laid his hand on
the Norwegian’s arm and said to him
roughly:
“Quit off now. You’ve been dipping
that beard of yours into a whisky bar
rel. Better mind your pegs or you get
your walking papers.”
“Mind your own, Burns,” replied the
big man heavily. “You be somethings
of a beard drinker yourself if you had
the beard.”
Burns was so enraged at the drunk-
en retort that he drew back as if to
strike the man, when the Norwegian
smote the foreman a blow that laid
him sprawling in the iron dust. In-
stantly Mr. Hardy stepped up between
the two men before Burns could rise.
We have spoken of Robert’s intense
horror of the coarse physical vices. It
seemed totally wrong to him that a
workman should degrade himself with
drink. Besides, he could not tolerate
such actions in the shops. He looked
the drunken man in the face and said
sternly:
“You are discharged! I cannot af-
ford to employ drunken men in these
shops. You may go this instant.”
The man leered at Mr. Hardy, raised
his arm as if to strike, while the man-
ager confronted him with a stern look.
but before he could do any harm two
or three of the men seized him and
hustled him back to the other end of
the shops. while Burns rose, vowing
vengeance.
The men went back to their ma.
chines, and Mr. Hardy, with an anx-
ious feeling of heart, went back into
the office, satisfied that there would be
no trouble at the shops for the rest of
the day at least. He felt sorry that he
had been obliged to discharge Herman,
but he felt that he had done the right
thing. The company could not afford
fn any way to employ men who were
drunkards, especially not just at this
time, when it began to be more than
plainly hinted that the result of the
accident on the road was due to the
partial intoxication of a track in-
spector.
That accident was a complication in
Robert Hardy’s seven days. It was de-
manding of him precious time that he
longed to spend in his family. At one
time in the afternoon as he worked at
the office Mr. Hardy was tempted to
resign his position and go home, come
what might. But, to his credit be it
said, even in his most selfish moments
formerly he had been faithful to his
duties at the office. At present no one
could take his place at once. He felt
that his duty to the company and to
the public demanded his services at the
time of a crisis in railroad matters.
So he staid and worked on, praying
as he worked for his dear ones and
hoping, as no bad news came from
home, that Clara was better. He had
been to the telephone several times and
had two or three short talks with his
wife, and now, as it began to grow
dark in the office, just as the lights
were turned on, the bell rang again,
and Mrs. Hardy called him up to tell
him that the minister, Mr. Jones, had
called and wanted to see him about
some of the families that were injured
in the accident in the foundry room.
“Tell Mr. Jones I will try to see him
at the meeting tonight.” (In Barton
the church meeting fell on Wednes-
day.) “And tell him I will have some-
thing to give him for what he wants.
How is Clara now?”
“No change yet. Will is suffering
some from nervousness. He says he
had a horrible dream of the accident
this afternoon. Bess is about the same.
Her escape was a miracle.”
“Has George come home yet?”
“No. I am getting anxious about
him. I wish you would inquire about
him at the Bramleys’ as you come up
to supper.”
“I will. 1 must leave very soon. This
has been a terrible day down here. God
keep us. Goodby.”
CHAPTER VIII
Robert finished most of the work,
toiling as never in all his life before.
and started for home at 6. On the way
he made inquiries concerning George.
but nobody had seen him since the
evening before. When he reached the
house, he found that his wife, utterly
worn out, had lain down for a little
sleep, and Alice was caring for the pa-
tients with a calm courage and quiet
cheerfulness that revealed the girl's
strong, self reliant character. Clara's
condition had not changed. She still
lay as if sleeping. Alice reported that
once in the afternoon she had moved
her lips and distinctly called for water.
Mr. Hardy and Bess sat down to the
supper table by themselves, and Bess
again told how she had been saved
from even a scratch in that terrible
fall. It was indeed remarkable that
the child did not seem to suffer even
from the general shock and reaction
from the disaster.
After a brief meal Mr. Hardy went
up stairs to Clara again. His chief
anxiety now was for her. He believed
that if the doctor’s fears were realized
she would become insane. It was not
possible that a person of her tempera-
ment and passion could be otherwise in
case she should come to consciousness
of her condition.
As the evening wore on Mr. Hardy
felt that his duty lay in his own home
for that night, and he would have to
see his minister some other time. He
thought of the prayer meeting with
regret and sat by the bed of the un-
conscious girl wondering how it was
possible that for all these years gone
by he had been so indifferent to one of
the best and most precious opportu-
nities for growing in spiritual man-
hood. He heard the bell ring for serv-
ice, and when it stopped he sat with
his face in his hands praying.
The prayer meeting in Mr. Jones’
church was generally a very quiet af-
fair. A good many people in the church,
especially those who came to the meet-
ing only occasionally, thought it was
stupid. But it was a noticeable fact
that those who attended regularly
were the ones who did the most work
in the church and the ones who grew
stronger and sweeter in the Christian
life. There was usually no regular sub-
Ject given out. There was very little
talking done. From beginning to close
it was nearly all prayer. Mr. Jones
did not feel afraid of the long pauses.
He believed modern American life to
be so full of nervousness and hurry
that it would not hurt any one to sit
still and think a minute or two.
That was the reason so many people
called Mr. Jones’ prayer meetings dull,
because they were not rushing all the
time with sensational or exciting re-
marks and incidents. Mr. Jones didn'r
believe that was what a prayer meet-
ing was for, and he planned for it ac-
cordingly. But this particular evening
was an exception. The great railroad
accident so near them had stirred the
entire community to its sympathetic
depths. Several families in Mr. Jones’
church had been sufferers. As if by
tacit consent there was an unusually
large gathering at the church, and the
subject was of necessity the recent
disaster.
It was a spontaneous meeting. The
minister briefly opened with the ex-
pressed desire that God would bless
the suffering. prepare the dying and
comfort the living, and almost instant-
ly a service of prayer began, which
was like a flood in its continuous out-
pouring. The people seemed urged by
some irresistible feeling to relieve the
pent up strain of the day in prayer,
and such prayers had not been heard
in that church for many years.
A similar scene was witnessed near
the White River Junction railroad dis-
aster in 1887 in a church near the acci-
dent. The entire morning service was
given up to prayer. which seemed the
only healthy relief to people suffering
from an overwhelming horror.
It was during the first pause that oc:
curred that James Caxton opened the
door and gave a note to some one in the
back seat with a request that it be sent
up to Mr. Jones. He then turned as if
to go out, but hesitated, came back and
slipped into a vacant seat and waited.
Mr. Jones received the note, glanced at
its contents and then rose. There was
a singular emotion in his voice as he
spoke.
“I have just been handed a note from
one of our members, Mr. Robert Har-
dy, with the request that I read it
aloud to the church tonight:
To You, My Dear Pastor, and You, My Brothers
and Sisters In Christ:
I suppose it is known to most of you that three
of my children were on the train during the re-
cent accident, and two of them escaped with but
slight injuries. But my daughter Clara was se-
riously injured by the shock, and I am at this
moment seated by her side praying that her
reason may be spared and her possible injuries
prove to be within the region of cure.
I had planned to be with you tonight. I
wanted to tell the church of the change that I
have lately experienced. I do not need to tell
you that for the 25 ycars that I have been a
member of the church I have been a member only
in name. I have seldom appeared in any of the
spiritual or devotional services of the church. 1
have often sat in an attitude of criticism to the
best preaching. I have been a hard man with
those in my employ. 1 have been cold and even
revengeful toward other members of this church.
I have been a very proud, un-Christian, selfish
man.
In the sight of God 1 have been an altogether
unworthy member of the church of Christ. I do not
take any pride to myself in making this confes-
sion, but I feel that it is due to you, and some-
thing tells me I shall have more peace of mind if
1 speak to you as I have lately prayed to God.
It is not necessary, neither have I time nor
strength, to tell you how I have been brought to
see my selfishness in all its enormity. It is
enough if I say to you that I most sincerely be-
lieve that I have misunderstood very largely the
right meaning of human existence. I want to
pray with you and for you. You will let me say
this also, bearing with me, as this may be my
last opportunity to say to you what lies in my
heart: Serve the church of Christ, all you who
have taken upon you its vows, with enthusiasm
and loyalty. Stand by the superintendent of the
Sunday school, attend this week night service
when you can, making it the most important serv-
ice of the week, and, more than all, live true,
simple, loving Christian lives every day.
It may seem strange that I am preaching like
this to you who have probably done your duty far
better than I ever did, but I wish to say what
lies deep in my heart to say tonight. If there
are any young men in the meeting tonight, I
want to say to them, become Christians at the
core, not in name simply, as I have been, and,
above all, kneel down every morning, noon and
night and pray to God to keep you from a selfish
life—such a life as I have lived—forgetful of
church vows, of the rights of the working poor, of
the brother and sister in Christ. Yes, 1 would
be willing that any young man might say, ‘O
Lord, keep me from living as selfish and useless
and proud a life as Robert Hardy once lived!”
For that is the truth. No one but God knows
how I have suffered at the thought of the past,
how I am suffering at the present moment.
I pray that any who are afflicted at this present
time may find peace in him who bore the world’s
sorrows in his great heart of love. If it were
not for my faith in my Saviour at this time, 1
should be in despair. As it is, I am suffering,
but it is not the suffering which follows an
eclipse of hope. I believe in the eternal life and
in the forgiveness of sins, yea, even such sins as
mine have been. Forgive so much about myself.
It is necessary under the circumstances. I ask
your prayers for me as your petitions go up for
the afflicted and repentant everywhere. 1 am,
your brother in Christ, RoBERT HARDY.
The impression made by the reading
of this letter was profound. The still-
ness that followed was deathlike. Then
one of the oldest men in the rcom rose
and in a prayer of great power prayed
for the absent man and thanked God
for his guided strength. The prayer
was followed by others, and then one
and another of the members who had
not been on really good terms with Mr.
Hardy arose and confessed and asked
forgiveness. The hearts of the people
were greatly moved. Mr. Jones, con-
trary to his usual habit, asked as the
meeting drew to a close if there were
any present who wanted to begin that
Christian life at the core of which Mr.
Hardy spoke.
(CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.)
Canine Jim's Jewelled Tooth,
A Gold Crown Set With Diamonds in the Jaws of a
Bull Terrier.
Jim is a bull terrier whose pedigree runs
back through many generations of distin-
guished ancestry. He is an aristocrat, born
into luxury, and his five years of life have
been a continuous round of contentment
and ease.
Everything that a pampered canine could
possibly desire is lavished on Jim. The
choicest tidbits fall to his portion. The
smartest of up-to-date collars adorns his
neck, and every night he is tucked up in
his own bed with the clothes well up un-
der his chin, ‘‘just so,”” before he will shut
his eyes to sleep. Yachting trips and coun-
try holidays made his summers pass pleas-
antly, while his winter quarters are such
as befit a dog of his position and accom-
plishments.
In point of ITuxurious living Jim is not
more favored than hundreds of other Bos-
ton pets. He has one great claim to dis-
tinction, however, which makes him pecul-
iarly interesting—he is a regular customer
at the dentist’s.
Some time ago Jim’s master realized that
something was the matter with his prize
dog. He investigated and found two de-
cayed teeth. Accordingly they were pull-
ed out. The operation was not unattend-
ed with difficalties, but Jim seemed to
know that the ordeal was for his ultimate
good and he behaved much better than the
average man or woman who ‘‘takes noth-
ing’’ when the forceps are applied. Relief
from pain was evident by the way he cap-
ered after the troublesome molars were re-
moved.
Not long after, Jim’s left cuspid, which
corresponds to the eye-tooth in the human
mouth, showed signs of decay in darkish
spots. Again he was conducted to the
dental chair. This time a more delicate
operation had to be undertaken, which the
patient bore with fortitude. An entire
gold crown was fitted, giving the appear-
ance of a solid gold tooth. More than that,
three sparkling diamonds were set in the
polished surface. The largest is near the
gum and the smallest at the point of the
tooth. Much of the work was done before
the crown was adjusted, so the operation
was probably not as painful as might be
imagined, although Jim has never express-
ed himself on the subject. He knows when
this remarkable tooth is to be exhibited.
He cocks his head to one side and relaxes
his jaw so that it can easily be seen.
Another of Jim's teeth, directly in front,
has become loosened, and it wiil soon have
to be treated by having a bridge to tighten
it.
Wedding Gift of a Million.
One of the most notable weddings that
ever occurred in New England was that of
Miss Helen Ripley Benedict, daughter of
Mr. and Mrs. Elias C. Benedict, who was
married at Greenwich, Conn., on Monday
to Thomas Hastings, of New York, a mem-
ber of the firm of Carrere & Hastings, ar-
chiteots.
The gift of Mr. Benedict to his daughter,
it was said, was a check upon a New York
banking house for $1,000,000. Mr. Bene-
dict is a banker.
——*‘Delays are dangerous.”’ Those
who have poor, weak, impure blood should
take Hood’s Sarsaparilla at once. It never
disappoints.
CONTRAST.
Within a dreary narrow room
That looks upon a noisome street,
Half fainting with tne stifling heat,
A starving girl works out her doom.
Yet not the less in God's sweet air,
The little birds sing, free of care,
And hawthorns blossom everywhere.
Swift, ceaseless toil scarce wins her bread ;
From early dawn till twilight falls,
Shut in by four dull, ugly walls,
The hours erawl round with murderous tread.
And all the while, in come still place,
Where intertwining boughs embrace,
The blackbirds build, time flies apace.
And if she be alive or dead
That weary woman scarcely knows
But back and forth her needle goes.
In tune with throbbing heart and head.
Lo, where the leaning alders part,
White-bosomed swallows, blithe of heart,
Above still waters skim and dart.
— Annie Matheson.
The Case of the Turk.
The announcement of the strained rela-
tions existing between the governments of
the United States and Turkey will be re-
ceived with satisfaction by quite a number
of Americans. These would like nothing
better than that the trouble should not be
patched up but that matters should culmi-
nate in a show of guns and even in the
use of them. They have long had a strong
prejudice against the ‘‘unspeakable Turk’’
and they feel that Uncle Sam could not be
in a better business than giving him a well
deserved thrashing. To such all the Turks
are infidels and barbarians whose many
alleged crimes against Christianity and
civilization merit no mercy. The Sultan
they hold to be no better than the rest of
his people and in fact to be considerably
worse as being the head and chief offender
of them all. It would therefore give Amer-
icans holding these views the keenest satis-
faction to have Admiral Dewey sent post
haste to Constantinople with a big fleet of
our finest warships with orders to batter
down the Vildiz-Kiosk, or Sultan’s palace,
about his ears without further ceremony
upon his refusal to keep his agreements
with this country concerning the payment
of indemnities acknowledged to be due.
Some folks who would like to see this
summary action taken are deterred by the
fear that complications might result with
other European powers. The latter would,
however, hardly be likely to do more than
use their good offices to secure a peaceful
settlement.
Many years ago the government of Naples
or the Two Scicilies refused to settle for
damages inflicted within its jurisdiction
upon American property and it was brought
to terms by the appearance of an American
squadron on its shores, the commander of
which made it clear that he meant busi-
ness. The result was a securing of com-
plete satisfaction within a very short time.
The United States was much weaker then
than it is to-day and Europe proportion-
ately very much stronger but the powers
of the latter did not prevent our govern-
ment from pressing its claims and obtain-
ing their recognition. It might bethought
that the converse of the Monroe doctrine
would be applied by the European powers
to prevent the United States from getting
satisfaction from Turkey. If the United
States should seek to annex any European
territory belonging to Turkey such a doc-
trine might be invoked, but it could not
hold good against a mere attempt to this
country to collect damages from Turkey.
A precedent upon this subject was created
upon our own continent only a few years
ago. The British took possession of Co-
rinto, a port of Nicaragua, and applied the
customs receipts of the port to the pay-
ment of damages claimed by British citi-
zens. The United States government was
appealed to to prevent this as a violation
of the Monroe doctrine, but it was very
properly held that as long as the British
contemplated only a temporary occupation
and not a permanent aunexation or occupa-
tion the doctrine did not apply. The
United States in the case of Turkey would
have exactly the same rights as Great Bri-
tain asserted in Nicaragua.
* 3% 3
It is probable that were an American
fleet to appear in Turkish waters the Euaro-
pean powers would advise the Sultan to
keep the engagements of his government
and pay the money due, and they would
perhaps provide the latter for him in order
to keep the Americans off European soil.
The sultan and many of his people, it may
be remarked, are not so unfavorably view-
ed by many intelligent Americans who
have had the opportunity of acquaintance-
ship with them. F. Hopkinson Smith, the
well-known traveler, writer and lecturer,
declared while in Pittsburg some years ago
that the sultan was the ablest ruler in Eu-
rope. He had he asserted by far the most
difficult questions to deal with by reason
of the diverse character of the peoples sub-
ject to his sway and because of his anoma-
lous position in Europe and he has accom-
plished great thingsin the way of better-
ing the government and conditions of his
subjects. Mr. Smith contended that the
Turks were not by any means alone to
blame for the troublesin Armeniaand else-
where, but that the fault was to be at-
tributed to Christians as well as Mo-
hammedans. Other Americans who have
visited Turkey, take the same view, which
is, however, strenuously denied by still
others. It would not he strange if the
enmity which for centuries has existed be-
tween the different classes in Turkey
should have resulted in members of both
being guilty of more injustice toward the
other. The European powers had great
trouble in Crete recently in keeping the
Christians of the interior of that island
from massacreing and robbing the Mo-
hammedans who were largely compelled to
seek retaliation upon the christians. There
is no doubt that the sultan has his hands
full and his failure to keep his pledges to
the United States may be due not so much
to unwillingness as inability to do so, a
fact which however constitutes no valid
excuse.
A Real Fish Story.
“How’s business,”” he asked of the
manufacturer of the genuine ‘‘Hunger-
stora Bitters.”
“Great !”” exclaimed that gentleman.
‘‘Here’s a letter I got this morning:
‘Gentlemen—I’m an enthusiastic angler.
Recently I went fishing. The fish
wouldn’t bite. Fortunately, I bad a bot-
tle of your bitters. I poured it into the
stream, and then the fish bit so voracious-
ly it made me tired to pull them in.”
—— “What kind of a man is he?
“Oh, he’s the kind that arouses your
sympathy.
‘Sympathy ?’’
‘Yes ; you have to feel sorry for other
men who go into business with him.”
A Mystery.
Frozen Body of a Woman in a Box Upon a Railway
Platform Since April 24,
A box containing the frozen body of a
woman, packed in sawdust, has been stand-
ing on the Erie railway platform at Cam-
bridge Springs, Crawford county, since
April 24th. The discovery was made on
Tuesday. The whole affair is a mystery.
About midnight on April 24 two men ap-
peared at the night operator’s window and
informed him that they had a box on the
platform for shipment to Vermont. The
agent started to make out a shipping bill,
but when be asked for the name of the
town the men had disappeared.
Since that time until Tuesday the box
stood on the depot platform. The Wells-
Fargo agent, A. L. Cottrel, decided to open
the box, which for the past week has been
looked on as somewhat of a mystery.
A large crowd assembled to witness the
opening, which disclosed the entirely nude
body of a woman packed in sawdust. The
body was doubled up, but shows no exter-
nal marks of violence.
An autopsy was held on the body on
Tuesday evening in connection with Cor-
oner Stockton’s inquest, and it was decid-
ed that the woman had died from pneu-
monia, although the physicians would not
say positively that there had not been foul
play. Every organ except the lungs ap-
peared normal. The only mark found on
the body was a scar about an inch long
near the navel.
The woman was about 40 years old, and
had never been a mother. She was of
symmetrical build, brown-eyed, with dark
brown hair tinged with gray; 5 feet 53 in.
tall ; 135 pounds in weight, and had a
handsome face.
The body had not been embalmed, but
had been frozen, and is in a good state of
preservation.
The box in which the body was found
was 25 by 29 inches square and 17 inches
deep, of l-inch pine lumber. The body
had been forced in and packed in ice and
sawdust.
The box, as shown by the outside mark-
ings, was originally from New York and
had contained calico shipped to a dry
goods merchant at Conneaut, O., on Au-
gust 1.
The box was left on the railway plat-
form at midnight, April 24, by two men,
who drove a pair of bay horses attached to
a light road wagon. One of the men is
described as 5 feet 9 inches tall, 160 pounds
in weight, curly hair and smooth face.
He wore a brown overcoat. The other,
who remained with the horses while his
companion interviewed Ray Crowe, the
night operator, is described as shorter,
more portly, with flushed face and dark
mustache.
The taller man called operator Crowe
out to the platform and showed him the
box, saying he wanted to express it to A.
Mossman, at Burlington, Vt., and stated
that Frank or Grant Proudfit, of Edinboro,
was the consignor. While Crowe was
making out the shipping bill the men got
into their wagon and drove away.
Slaughtering Filipinos.
This War, or Only Plain Killing ?
It cannot have escaped notice that re-
cently the dispatches cabled from the
Philippines, whether press dispatches or
‘‘official’’communications from the military
‘‘recluse of Manila,’ as General Otis has
been happily styled, have been less in the
nature of reports of fighting done by our
troops than simple records of the number
of Filipinos killed by them from day to
day or week to week. Thus on April 24th
and 22th we had detailed accounts furnish-
ed of the number of killed during the week,
including April 16th, which seems to have
been a regular field day for that sort of
thing. Thus on that day General Otis re-
ports some 334 natives killed at Batce, in
Northern Luzon, by the troops operating
under General Young, our loss at the same
time being 2 killed and 4 wounded. A
press correspondent, referring to the same
affair, says that to the number of killed by
actual count there should be added at least
a equal number of natives who died from
their wounds owing to the lack of surgeons
and hospital appliances among the Fili-
pinos, their wounded dying uncared for in
the jungle. One thousand, according to
this correspondent, was a reasonable esti- |
mate of the total of the Filipino losses in
killed, wounded and prisoners, as against
the 2 killed and 4 wounded on our side.
Officers arriving at Manila from Neuva
Carceres, province of Camarines, in South-
ern Luzon, give details of a ‘‘fight’’ stated
to have occurred there also on the 16th of
April, in which 80 Filipinos were killed by
a detachment of the Forty-fifth infantry,
with two Maxim guns, operating under
orders from General Bell. The Filipinos
are described as being armed only with
bolos, or long knives, and equipped with
helmets, coats and shields made of buffalo
hides. Itis naively added that the bolo
men never got near enough to the Ameri-
cans, provided with Krag-Jorgensen rifles
and Maxim guns, to inflict any gdamage.
‘“Therefore, proceeds the account, ‘‘none
of the Americans was even wounded.” It
is added that ‘‘General Bell’s two regiments
are hard-worked clearing up the country.
They meet many small squads of bolomen.
Last week they kiled a total of 125.”
In another ‘‘fight”’ a lieutenant, whose
name is given, it is stated, ‘‘with 20 cav-
alrymen cornered 50 bolomen in a river
and shot every one, the bodies floating
away.” Further, on the same lucky day
—April 16—in the province of Albay three
companies of the Forty-seventh infantry
are reported as having routed a large force
of natives, ‘‘mostly bolomen, killing 53.
No mention is made of any °‘‘casualties’’
upon our side nor of any prisoners being
taken. The nature of the ‘‘clearing-up’’
operations in which our troops are engag-
ed, as well as of the sort of ‘‘fighting’’ en-
countered, may be easily inferred from
these occurrences of a single week. The
bolomen appear to be easy game—almost
too easy to afford very exciting sport to our
soldiers. The meagre details furnished in
official reports and press dispatches serve,
however, to recall the statements contain-
ed in soldiers’ letters, published earlier in
the ‘‘war,’”’ about the fun to be derived
from ‘‘potting niggers.”’--Baltimore Sun.
——Yes,”” remarked the funny shoe-
maker, ‘I’m in favor of women’s rights—
also her lefts.”’
“Is that your last joke?’ asked the
leather drummer.
“‘Shoe’er”” answered that shoemaker,
“and it’s awl right at that.”
A Fast BrecyoLe RiDER—Will oiten re-
ceive painful cuts, sprains or bruises from
accidents. Bucklen’s Arnica Salve, will
kill the pain and heal the injury. It’s the
cyclist’s friend. Cures Chafing, Chapped
Hands, Sore Lips, Burns, Ulcers and Piles
Cure guaranteed. Only 250. Try it. Sold
by F. P. Green druggist.
J