a
‘ not be that the girl would in time
Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 24, 1900.
A SE
IN THE LONG LONG AGO.
County Treasurer W. T. Speer dedicates
a Centennial Effusion to Gen. Jas. Potter
who in the year 1768, came up the Bald
Eagle creek and crossed over to the top of
Nittany mountain, where he discovered
the beautiful Penns Valley and made it
his happy home.
Through forest wilds and mountain strange
! Bald Eagle's waters flow,
But to our fathers yet unknown
In the long, long years ago.
Through glowing rays of setting sun,
A skiff held tall in tow—
Sailed up Bald Eagle's silvery stream
In the long, long years ago.
One, on his trusty rifle slept—
A roamer to and froj
And near a spring that white man slept.
In the long, long years ago.
The sleeper wakes in early morn,
With eyes so true and keen
He winds his way up Logan’s Branch
In the long, long years ago.
The light breaks o’er the silent hill,
Led by this silvery glow,
Potter stood on Nittany’ heights
In the long, long years ago.
* * * * * *
Oh, fairest land! Oh, lovely sight!
It blinds my ravished eyes;
No better land could meet my gaze
Beneath the deep blue skies.
Upon this mount I'll make a vow,
That no more will I roam;
But in this valley deep and wide
I'll make my happy home.
And on this plain I'll build my fort,
These mighty oaks must fall;
And for my great ('reator’s gifts
I'll crown him Lord of ail!
A VERY STUPID EDITOR.
The editor of the Clubland Chronicle had
had a busy day. In the morning he had
dealt with—I use the expression advisedly
---a huge pile of letters from readers of the
Clubland Chronicle all over the world who
were either in trouble, in love, or hoth.
During the hour when he should have
launched he had been interviewed by a
dowager with an imaginary grievance, a
dog trainer with a savage bloodhound and
a literary agent with a cold in the head.
Having disposed of these visitors and stay-
ed the pangs of hunger with a stick of
plain chocolate---an effective if somewhat
inadvisable method of saving time---he had
spent an hour in scheming out a brilliant
number of the Clubland Chronicle for the
week after next, drawn up a fetching ad-
vertisement of that number for the daily
papers, passed half a dozen pages for the
next issue, written three diplomatic letters
to as many would-be contributors, cut
down two articles in proof, knocked off a
dainty poem in place of one that had not
come up to time and dictated a smashing
leader on the inignities of the fee system
at West Eud theatres.
There had heen lying on the editor’s
table all day a story in manuscript that he
very much wanted to read. The story
was from the pen of a certain young lady
in whom this editor took a more than
literary interest. Let me hasten to add
that he was only 32 years old and a bach-
elor. The young lady was clever, and the
editor thought a good deal of that. She
was also pretty, and he thought more of
that.
It says a good deal for his strength of
will and conscientiousness, therefore, that
the manuscript bad lain on his table all
day long, unread. But he had not been
able to resist a hurried glance over the lit-
tle note that came with it.
‘You told me (it said) to write of things
that I had experienced myself, to talk hu-
manly of human subjects, to appeal to the
sympathy of the reader. I have tried to
do that in this little story. It is a frag-
ment of my own life. I know you won’t
print it unless you really believe it isgood,
but I could not deny myself the consola-
tion of putting my thoughts on paper. It
is easier to write than to speak things like
this, and, to me, far more satisfying.”’
And yet the story had waited on the
table all day. .
But when the office hoy had brought in
a cup of hot liquid that the sub-editor was
pleased to call tea, the chief of the Club-
land Chronicle found his table tolerably
clear. ‘He, therefore, after his savage cus-
tom, filled and lit a particularly foul brier
pipe, rested his feet on a pile of patriotic
literature sent in for review, gulped down
two mouthfuls of the sub-editor’s brew,
anathematized the sub-editor, and began
to read the story.
The scene of the tale was laid ina board-
ing house at Brighton, and here the reader
began to get interested, for he happened to
know that the writer had jnst returned
from a visit to Brighton. It was not very
carefully written; several stops had been
left out---a fault that always annoyed the
editor of the Clubland Chronicle, and he
put them in mechanically * with his blue
pencil. = Sometimes the writer repeated
“herself quite needlessly; he crossed out the
offending word and substituted another.
But when the story began to unfold itself
he forgot to use hie pencil. For the in-
cident was, as the writer said in her letter,
a fragment of her own life, and seemed
likely to affect the life of the reader.
But it would have been better called an
episode than a story. For it merely told
of a girl who met a man, of the love that
sprang up in her breast for the man; of the
hopelessness, as it seemed, of that love; of
the subsequent meeting of the pair at the
seaside; of the man’s sudden proposal; of
the girl's genuine surprise and instinctive
refusal. Then the writer struck a more
passionate note. The man, it would seem,
had taken the girl at her word, and had
allowed her to leave the place at the time
she had intended without again putting
forward his plea. And the girl, too proud
to make advances, had hoped on fora lit-
tle, and then had left the boarding house
and all that she loved in the world for-
ever.
The theme was old enough, but the edit-
or found the tale an interesting one. For
the girl loved a man in a seaside hoarding
house. Now, he himself had been to the
seaside, but he had not met the girl there.
Who, then, was this other man? What
sort of creature was he that took a wom-
an’s refusal for a final answer, that threw
away the happiness of two lives, maybe, in
a fit of pique ? But that was no affair of
the editor’s, The wind that had blown
evil to this couple at. the seaside might
waft a little good to him. For might it
orget
this other man; that she would listen at
last to his own importunate pleadings;
learn to believe that the true love of an
honest man was a thing not to be lightly
cast away ; that love breeds love, and that
there was far more joy in the years still to
be lived than there had been of sorrow in
those that were gone ?
The editor sat for some minutes without
moving, pondering over all the chances
that make or mar a man’s life. True, he
was sorry for the girl; but none the less he
was determined to win her for himself if
His mind was made up. He would go to
her; go and tell her——
*‘Will you sign these now, sir?’ It was
the office boy with a sheaf of typewritten
letters awaiting a signature.
“Yes; put them on the table.”
He sat down again, took up his pen,
glanced rapidly through each letter and
wrote his name at the foot.
He had come to the last note, and was
about to deal with it in the same half me-
chanical manner when the address at the
bottom caught his eye. It was a letter he
had himself dictaced to the author of some
mediocre verses. The would-be poet had
begged for the favor of criticism, even if
the verses were not accepted, and the edit-
or, in his usual kindly manner, had com-
plied. Now he saw that the writer had
sent them from the address of a boarding
house in Brighton. Something of the sub-
ject of the verses came back to his mind
and he quickly drew them out of the
envelope.
They were written in a flowery style,
and some of the rhymes would have dis-
graced a pill advertisement. But the edi-
tor read them through with rapt attention.
And, as he read, the lines in his face hard-
ened and his brow became furrowed. He
turned to the waiting office boy and bade
him take the other letters to the post.
This one he would deal with himself.
Yes, but how to deal with it---that was
the trial. For not only the address, but
the description of the scene, of the heroine
and the nature of the subject enlarged up-
on---‘‘Love Scorned’’---left him no room
for doubt as to the cruel trick that fate had
played him. It was evident that the verses
were by thegirl’s lover, written in the first
bitterness of his refusal.
But why should they have been sent to
a paper, and why to his paper? That was
clear also. The girl would have had the
Clubland Chronicle at the boarding house
—indeed, the editor himself had sent it to
her there each week. And the lover, know-
ing she read the paper, doubtless hoped to
reach her in this way.
But what was the editor’s duty in the
matter ? At first he refused to answer the
question at all. He told himself that as
an editor he could not publish the verses.
They were far too weak. Neither could
he publish the girl’s story. Duty to his
employers, after all, came first, and, to
tell the trnth, the story was very little
better than the verses. All he need do,
therefore, was to return both to their re-
spective authors, with a little note, and
then play the game as hard as he could in
his own interests.
The editor was having a big fight with
himself—a fight that few men have to fight
even once in their lives, aud none twice.
For the love in his breast was divided into
two opposing forces—the selfish inclina-
tions on the one side and the unselfish on
the other.
And then it happened that his eye fell
upon a little sheet of note paper. It was
her littler. He took it up wearily and
read it through a second time. ‘‘It is a
fragment of my own life. * * * Tf is
easier to write than to speak of things like
this.”’
Ah! It had touched her heart, this al-
fair in the boarding house at Brighton. He
saw her eyes wet with tears; he heard
her sobbing to herself in the night time.
After all, her happiness came first; he
would think only of that.
There was no hesitating now; He had
thought out a means of bringing the two
together again almost as soon as he had
read the verses the second time. In a mo-
ment it was done—the act that robbed him
of the sweetness of living.
He simply sent the girl’s story to the
man in the boarding house at Brighton.
And the man’s verses he sent to the girl.
The night and half the next day had
gone hy, and again the editor of the Club-
land Chronicle sat in his editorial chair.
But this afternoon he was not alone. A
lady visitor occupied the chair on the op-
posite side of his table.
*‘No,”’ she was saying, ‘‘I don’t under-
stand it abit ! Instead of sending me back
my story you forward these verses in an
envelope addressed by yourself. You ad-
mit that it was not a mistake, and yon say
that my story is not in the office.
Please explain.”
Now, the editor was not used to being
addressed in this manner by contributors.
He bad got to know which people were
likely to make themselves unpleasant, and
he invariably handed their cards on to the
sub-editor. But this was not a matter for
the sub-editor.
“My dear child,”’ he said, gently, “I
assure you I did it all for the best.”’
“Don’t be so idiotic,’’ said the girl.
“How can it be for the best to lose my
story and send this wretched stuff instead?’
I’m afraid the want of a holiday has—
well, knocked you out.’’
She uoted the lines in his face and the dark
shadows under his eyes. ;
“Ah!” said the editor, ‘‘talking of hol-
idays gives yon the keynote of the situa-
tion.”’
He looked tor a telltale blush, but none
followed.
‘You wrote your story on a holiday ?”’
he continued.
“I did---down at Brighton.’
‘““You laid the scene in a boarding
house ?”’
“I did. Why shouldn’t 12” ‘
‘‘Have you looked at the address on the
verses ?"’ :
‘‘No. Oh, Isee! They come from the
same boarding house.’’ ;
‘“And the name? Do you know that ?”’
“Let me see. Oh, yes! That must be
the silly young man with the long hair
who would talk about the moon ‘and waves
and things.” ’
The editor gasped. :
““Then you are not---you didn’t---he
didn’t—"
At last the girl understood, ‘*Good heav-
ens---no !” she said, laughing a little in
spite of her vexation. ‘‘But you don’t
mean to say you sent my story to him ?’’
“I'm afraid I did,”’ said the editor hum-
bly. ‘‘You see I thought you meant it
for—?
“Don’t I’? said the girl.
never written the thing !"’
“Then wasn’t it a fragment of your life?’
“Not exactly,”’ she said hesitating.
“And, anyhow, I didn’t---want it pub-
lished.” i
The man looked across at the pretty,
‘downecast face, and saw, at last, the blush
‘that he had been waiting for. Fora mo-
ment he thought hard, and then he rose
from his chair, walked round the table, and
took the little ‘gloved ‘hand in his. She
scarcely looked up, but one glance told
him all that he wanted to know.
“I wish I'd
he could. Suddenly he sprang to his feet. |
‘‘Fourteen gentlemen to see you sir,’
said the office hoy; ‘‘eleyen ladies and a
man with a new kind of infernal ma-
chine.” :
“Tell em I'm engaged,” said the editor.
“Shall I say you’re sorry, sir ?”’
“Certainly net!” said the editor.
jolly glad !’
And the boy went out, with half a crown
and a chuckle.— Chicago Times-Herald.
“I'm
Circuses in Winter.
How the Big Tent Shows Spend the Idle Season.
The circus season “in the United States
begins in the spring with the first thaw
and ends with the first frost. Between
these periods is the season of ‘‘winter quar-
ters,’’ just now beginning. It is estimated
that there are directly and indirectly 10,-
000 persons connected with the circus busi-
ness in the United States equestrians, train-
ers, acrobats, hostlers, keepers, wardrobe
women and veterinarians, and the army of
managers, agents, ushers, lithographers,
‘‘side-show-men,’”’ ‘‘candy butchers,” as
they are technically called, toots, pur-
chasing agents and canvas men.
Almost proverbially figures relating to
circus business, its extent amd the pro-
grams of managers are exaggerated, but
with 40 established circus concerns in the
country, omitting from the calculation the
the Barnum & Bailey concern, a corpora-
tion representing the shareholders now
domiciled in England, and with an aver-
age of 200.employes each, a total of 8,000
is attained, in which, no doubt, an addi-
tion of 2,000 can be made for those who,
while drawing their livelihood from cir-
cuses, do not travel with them, but serve
in a business way at home, or supply them
with materials.
The American circus season opens at dif-
ferent times in various parts of the coun-
try as to climatic conditions, which vary
considerably. It is begun earlier in the
South and later in New England and the
Northwest. With the close of the circus
season the managers withdraw their forces
into what are know as ‘‘winter quarters’’
for the care and sustenance of the animals,
and particularly for the horses, which con-
stitute such an important feature of circus
life.
A portion of thestaff of employes finds
work (at half salaries during the winter
months), either caring for the animals, ren-
ovating the wagons and cages, or in fresh-
ening and renewing the costumes. Ohio,
notable as well in some other particulars,
is the favorite State for the winter quarters
of circuses, though Western States are gen-
erally preferred for the reason that better
forage appears to be attainable in them at
more satisfactory prices.
For many years the winter quarters of
the Barnum circus was at Bridgeport,Conn.,
and two circuses now utilize that conven-
ient and accessible city for winter quarters.
The lack of income from entertainments
during the winter season and the continn-
ence, though much diminished, of expenses
i3 one of the reasons for the somewhat pre-
carious character of the circus business,
except in the case of large shows well sup-
plied with capital to carry them over
daring this period when public interest in
circus entertainments is virtually snspend-
ed. Some efforts have been made but never
successfully, to establish indoor circus en-
tertainments in winter, but the
circus in the country isa summer amuse-
ment, and when warm weather ceases the
period of winter quartersis at hand.
Sunstroke, Heatstroke.
Either heatstroke or sunstroke may at-
tack a person sitting in a stifling room as
readily as in the open field. Each of these
diseases is cansed by heat, accompanied
and aggravated by fatigue. It is almost
impossible to overcome a thoroughly
healthy man by any degree of heat known
in our climate unless this man is at the
same time suffering from fatigue.
When the physical body is exercising,
great amounts of waste matter are thrown
off. One effect of great heat is to prevent
the throwing off of these waste products,
causing a species of self-poisoning which
manifests itself either in a sudden seizure,
like an apoplectic shock, as instanced when
men drop unconscious while at work, or
in the somewhat milder form called heat-
stroke, when there is a sort of collapse of
the physical powers.
In heat exhaustion the skin is relaxed,
cool and pallid, and the temperature is
either normal or below normal; whereas in
sunstroke the temperature rises from nor-
mal, as 98 3-5, to 103 and above, the skin
is hot and flashed, the pulse is rapid, and
convulsions are common. In case of such
an attack the patient should be put in the
coolest place possible, in a draft of air if
convenient, and ice should be applied or
cold water dashed upon the whole body,
with vigorous fanning. Such heroic treat-
ment would he detrimental in the case of
one over-come with heat exhaustion, whose
temperature was already under normal,
and whose skin was relaxed and pallid.
There is another way by which to dis-
tinguish between these two forms of heat
attack. The sufferer from heat exhaustion
usually realize that his or her condition is
uncomfortable, and complains seriously of
the heat before the real attack comes on.
The sufferer from sunstroke does not usu-
ally realize that his conditicn is serious
until the actual ‘‘stroke” occurs. Tn all
serious cases of this kind the physician
should be summoned at once.
A Woman's Race With Death.
Bits of Burned Flesh Mark the Path of Her Flight.
In a race with death Mrs. Kate Batts,
wife of Cromer Butts, a charcoal burner,
lost. :
Mrs. Butts, who is 30 years of age and
the mother of three children, went from
Richmond, Pa., in the afternoon to gather
berries, going in the vicinity in which she
thought her husband was working. He
was absent. The wife had often been with
him at his work,and she learned that char-
coal mounds must always be covered. A hole
had been burned in ove of the mounds,
and to cover it and save the charcoal Mrs.
Butts climed to the top. Her weight dis-
turbed the smouldering wood beneath, and
sparks shot out igniting the cotton dress
she wore.
In a moment her clothing was ablaze,
with no one to help her. She started to
her home at Richmond, a distance of half
a mile, through woods and fields. Bits of
burned flesh found along the path by
neighbors told of her flight for home and
help. She arrived at Richmond at 3 o’clock,
Dr. J. E. Devors was summoned, but was
powerless to save her, and she died at' 8
o’clock Tuesday evening.
A Fair Explanation.
“Bridget,” said the lady, “you sleep too
much.”’
“Faith, ma’am,’’ retorted Bridget, ‘‘ye’re
misthaken. ’Tis not that ‘Oi slape too
much, bat Qi slape very slow, ma’am.”
The March on and Relief of Pekin.
Trampled the Dying in Entry of Pekin.—Japanese
and Russians Swept on, Regardless of the Groans.
Americans and British the First to Hear the Hail
of the Besieged Legation Watches on inner Wall.
The march of the allied troops { Russian
English, Japanese, German and American)
on Pekin practieally began with the silenc-
ing of the Taku forts by the warships on
June 18th.
An international column of 2,000 men,
under the command of Admiral Seymour,
had lauded near the place five days before
and proceeded inland to. the relief of. the
dAmprisoned legations ‘at the Chinese capi-
tal, but they were cempelled to retreat by
hordes of Chinese Boxers supported by im-
perial troops and armed with the very lat-
est implements of warfare, and finally Ad-
miral Seymour took refuge at Tien Tsin.
On June 21st the foreign portion of this
town was bombarded by the Chinese and
the American legation des‘royed. A large
force of allied troops was then landed at
Taku, and after severe fighting, in which
heavy loss was inflicted on both sides, the
relieving force entered Tien Tsin on June
25th. Part of the city was in the hands of
the Boxers, however, and a force, of the
Chinese, estimated at more than 100,000
men, occupied the fortified portion and
surrounding country. These kept up a
continuous bombardment of the foreign
settlement. On July 13th the fortified
town was attacked by the allies, and after
two days of severe fighting was carried by
assault. In this engagement Colonel Lis-
cum, who commanded the Ninth United
States Infantry, was killed.
For some days following this battle the
allies rested and recuperated at Tien Tsin,
but finally on or about August 1st they
started on their memorable march to the
relief of the foreign legations at Pekin.
In less than four days a force of about 15,-
000 troops marched 25 miles to the fortified
town of Peitsang, where they met and de-
feated an army of 30,000 Chinese, with a
loss of 1,300 killed and wounded. The
next morning the allies crossed the Pietro
river and attacked Yangtsun, capturing it
without much difficulty, the enemy having
fled, completely demoralized, toward
Pekin. Two days were spent at Yangtsun
for the purpose of reorganizing the com-
mands and perfecting the line of that com-
munication to Tien Tsin.
On August 7th the allies reached the
town of Tsaitsun, six miles beyond Yangt-
sun, on the river Pei-Ho. Thisthey oceu-
pied without opposition. “A vanguard was
formed, consisting of one Siberian regi-
ment, one of Cossacks, three ‘battalions of
Japanese infantry, one Japanese sapper
company and an American mounted bat-
tery. In spite of the condition of the
road this column proceeded by forced
marches to Nan Isai Tung, which is forty-
nine miles from Pekin. There encounter-
ing an hour and a half of fighting the Chi-
nese threw down their arms and fled in a
panic. When this news was sent back all
the allies started forward in three columns.
They proceeded slowly and steadily, meet-
ing with no serious resistance, their chief
discomfort being caused by the intense
heat prevailing, and on August 11th reach-
ed Ma Tow, twenty miles from the capi-
tal.
On Sunday, August 12th, the interna-
tionals, headed by the Japanese forces, at-
tacked and captured the town of Chan-
Chia-Wen with but asmall loss. The Chi-
nese left more than 500 dead on the field.
Sanday night they proceeded to Tung
Chow, ten miles from Pekin, to which
place the defeated Chinese forces had re-
treated. Here they foand a large quantity
of arms, ammunition and food which the
enemy left behind them when the inter-
national column came in sight.
Finally, after fifteen days of steady
marching, with a skirmish or a pitched
battle at almost every step, tramping
through the most intense heat, with mud
and water up to their knees, camping in
the pouring rain, forcing their way through
brush so tall and thick that the cavalry
couldn’t hardly keep in their saddles,
this little amy, composed of several differ-
ent nationalties, but each as brave and
steadfast as the other, accomplished a
march through a hostile country which
will go down in the annals of history as
one of the finest achievements of modern
times. And on August 15th they entered
the gates of Pekin, passing through a vast
multitule of Chinamen who had collected
to see this marvelous little band of war-
riors who had dared successfully to invade
their vast dominions.
Little by little the fragmentary informa-
tion from Pekin sent since the capture of
the city by the allies is dovetailing togeth-
er to make a story of wondrous interest.
On some points the correspondents fail
to agree, but they all reach the same gloi-
ious conclusion—the entrance to the Tar-
tar City at double time and the rescue of
the Ministers from the British Legation.
Taking all the dispatches together, it is
shown that the troops moved out from
Tung Chow Tuesday morning, and at
nightfall were camped all along the east
wall of Pekin.
TwO SECTIONS OF THE ATTACK.
The Russians and Japanese bivounacked
together on the north side of the Tung-
chow Canal, about opposite the Imperial
rice stores, while the Americans and Brit-
tish were on the south side, where the
legationers were abie to reach the Amieri-
can signal corps and make known the posi-
tion of the foe behind the great wall.
Darkness did not stop. the signaling on
Tuesday night, the information sent out
forming the basis for the Council of War
held at midnight, when the general staff
of each force was present, upward o 125
officers in all. The attack was planned
then, with almost a unanimous voice in
favor of an assault as soon as it was light.
WET NIGHT BEFORE BATTLE.
It was a night full of discomfort. Rain
fell intermittently but always in. torrents,
greatly retarding the movements of the
artillery and making the work of intrench-
ing terribly arduous. Fortunately there
were no heavy guns, else the battle must
have been delayed. As it was, the horses
strained and tugged and the drivers wore
themselves out getting to the front.
Morning came before the positions were
assumed. The clouds were chased away
by the blazing sun, the heat increasing
until men dropped in the ranks, making
doubly hard the work of the hospital
corps. i
With the first rays of the sun the battle
was on in earnest. The Chinese were
massed on the wall around the Tung-chih-
men, the great eastern gate, and upon this
point the artillery fire was concentrated.
SUPPORTED BY THE INFANTRY.
The infantry fire was steadily maintain-
ed, the support thus given doing much to
make possible the advanced position tak-
en by the artillery. The Chinese were
practically without protection on the wall
save at two or three points, but as fast as
the enemy depleted, fresh troops
mounted the wall, seemingly a never end-
ing, living stream flowing to the top to
prevent an invasion. ’
One small force emerged from the Tung-
chih-men, but retreated after one desperate
charge, the allies pursuing, in the face of a
raking fire, almost to the city’s gate. The
Japanese led the fighting at every point,
but the Americans were unfortunate in be-
ing out of the first part of the battle.
READY FOR THE LAST MOVE.
‘When it became apparent that the bom-
bardment alone would not suffice to reduce
the city, the Americans aud British moved
to the southward, taking a position agreed
upon for the last coup. “The loss to the
allies up to this time had been small, prac-
tically none except among the Japanese,
who had repelled the enemy's sortie at the
gate late in the afternoon.
Darkness was coming on, when the deaf-
ening roar of artillery and the sharp rattle
of rifle fire was broken by two terrific
crashes that shook the earth.
TWO GATES RENT BY EXPLOSION.
The Japanese had blown open the Tung-
chih and Cham-Lang gates.
With a yell, the Japanese cavalry swept
toward the gates, followed hy mounted
Cossacks and later by the infantry.
The Americans and British moved by
the left flank to the Tung Pien gate, which
was quickly battered down with cannon,
and 5000 men poured into the Chinese
city, moving swiftly toward the gate near-
est the legations.
Frightened Chinese fled through the nar-
row streets, pushed on by the resistless
rush of the victorious troops, who stopped
only when the advance was at the gate and
the hail of the long besieged legationers
oa heard from the small tower which they
eld.
The Russians and Japanese were forced
to fight their way into the Tartar city, for
the Imperial troops several times blocked
the way. Dead and wounded filled some
streets and groaned as the tide of battle
swept over them, crushing out what little
life remained.
GUARD AROUND THE LEGATIONS.
Detachments were hurriedly told off to
seek the legations,and Americans, Russians,
Japanese and British all came together on
the broad way along the partly filled canal
that skirts the British legation.
Communication with the Envoys was es-
tablished and their safety assured.
The Japanese had had over 100 killed,
including three officers, while the Russians
lost nearly as many in all probability, as
their position was where the Chinese at-
tack was fiercest. The American and
British losses were confined principally to
heat prostrations, the headgear of the
United States troops heing no protection
from the scorching sun.
The Imperial court, including the
usurper, Prince Tuan, had fled before the
allies entered the city.
PEERING INTO THE FUTURE.
‘‘What is coming next?’ is the ques-
tion asked by everybody to-night.
This afternoon I put the question to
Minister Chihchen Lofenglub, and he re-
plied :
“I believe it is true that the Empress
has fled, though I cannot say what the re-
sult of this may be or what steps my gov-
ernment proposes to take.’
There is a general impression here that
the Empress will not be vigorously sought
for, as it is pointed out that the govern-
ment of the Chinese Empire does not de-
pend upon the Pekin court. The conduct
of the Empire is in the hands of the
Viceroys of ‘the various provinces, while
the Emperor or Empress Dowager is mere-
ly a nominal head to whom tribute is paid
in the form of exorbitant taxation.
Rivets Hold Patient’s Broken Ribs To-
gether.
If Joho Christian survives the operation
performed on him at the General Hospital,
in Paterson, N. J., he will go through the
remaining years of his life with three ribs
patched up with metal. Christian is a
watchman at Gautschy’s Dye Works in
Paterson. He was set upon one night
three weeks ago and brutally beaten. The
robbers were trying to make their way in-
to the factory, but Christian, who is more
than fifty years old, stubbornly resisted
them,and suffered severely in consequence.
When he was taken to the General Hos-
pital it was found that the three ribs had
been broken in two places, causing them
to sink inward until the pressure on the
heart was dangerous. More than this the
doctors found that the broken ribs had
penetrated the lung.
When Christian grew weaker and weak-
er each day the physicians decided that
they must perform an operation.
broken ribs must be raised so that they
would join with the fragments which still
retained their position in the diaphragm.
This is always considered a delicate opera-
tion, and when the patient is in a weaken-
ed condition and it becomes necessary to
actually rivet the broken bones with metal
the operation is considered a very preca-
rious one. It was necessary to put a metal
band around each riband weld these metal
bands together with an artificial metallic
rib. " r
‘While this operation is a very delicate
one and of unusual interest,’ said one of
the surgeons at the hospital, ‘it is not new
in surgery. There are many persons walk-
around today who have metal patchwork
holding their bones together. ;
‘‘Whether the patient will live or not
does not depend much upon the operation
but upon his ability to rally from the
weakened state brought on by pneumonia.
He is in a dangerous condition, but if he
lives forty eight hours he will doubtless
recover and will go through life with me-
tallic gearing on his ribs.” ine
Killed by a Hot Potato.
Two-year-old William Nagle, of 416
North Thirty-fifth street, Philadelphia,
whose throat was burned on ‘Saturday af-
‘ternoon by swallowing a large mouthful of
hot potatoes at his home, died Sunday in
the Presbyterian hospital. The coroner
will investigate the case. According to
the story obtained by the police of the case
the boy swallowed, the potato while left
alone for a few moments. When his moth-
er returned to the kitchen, where she was
engaged in cooking dinner, the boy was
ry attempting to dislodge the potato.
His throat was so severely burned that lis-
tle hope was entertained of his recovery
from the time he entered the hospital.
Tea Growing in the South.
In South Carolina there is a tea farm
where it is said that a very high grade of tea
‘can be grown; indeed, we are told that
the tea raised there is now selling in the
American market on its merits at the price
‘of a dollar a pound, which is a higher price
than most of the Chinese tea commands in
the same market.. To raise the leaf in this
country requires special care and study
and highly trained skill in curing, and
‘that is the reason why the crop is not more
generally tried in that portion of the South
where the soil is favorable. !
The:
Trespassing Cattle.
A correspondent requests information
upon the subject of line fences and the lia-
bility of cattle owners in cases of trespass.
Ignorance of the legal rights of adjacent
landowners, and the straying proclivities
of cattle, are fruitful of much litigation, so
that the questions of our correspondents
have a general interest. The law is quite
clear in the points involved. The supreme
court has decided that every person is re-
sponsible for keeping his cattle on his own
land, that no responsibility rests upon him
to erect fences to keep other people’s cattle
out, hut that his duty ends with fencing in
his own cattle. In other words, every per-
son must keep his cattle within his own
fields, and in cases of trespass it is not nec-
essary that the person whose land was
trespassed upon should have his lands en-
closed to maintain an action for trespass.
The owner of cattle who is sued for tres-
pass, to prevent recovery, must show that
he kept his cattle in, or tried to, by suffi-
cient feuces. If by reason of any insuffi-
ciency in his fences his cattle get out and
stray upon other property, he is responsi-
ble for the trespass. This is even the case
where the fields of adjoining landowners
are seperated by a line or division fence
and one of the parties fails to keep up his
portion of the fence. His failure does not
free the other of responsibility for trespass,
as the law expressly provides a remedy in
case of such failure. The act of March
11th, 1842, provides that the township au-
ditors shall perform the duties of fence
viewers. When any two persons shall im-
prove lands adjacent to each other, or when
any person shall enclose any land adjoin-
ing to another’s land already fenced in, so
that any part of the first person’s field be-
comes the partition hetween them, in both
cases, the charge of such division fence
shall be equally borne and maintained by
both parties. Qn notice given said viewers
shall within five days thereafter view and
examine any line fence and shall make out
a certificate in writing setting forth whether
in their opinion the fence, if one has al-
ready been built, is sufficient, and if not,
what portion of the expense of building a
new or repairing the old fence should be
borne hy each party; and in such case they
shall set forth the sum which in their
judgment each party ought to pay to the
other, in case he shall repair or build his
portion of the fence, and a copy of which
certificate shall be delivered to each of the
parties. If the party who shall be delin-
quent in making or repairing of any fence
shall not within ten days after a copy of
the certificate of the viewers shall have
been delivered to him, proceed to repair or
build said fence and complete the same in
reasonable time, it shall be lawful tor the
party aggrieved to repair or build said
fence and he may bring suit before any
justice of the peace or alderman against the
delinquent party and recover for work,
labor, service done -and material found.
Thus it will be seen that the delinquency
of one of the parties does not relieve the
other from liability for the trespass of the
latter’s cattle upon the delinquent’s land.
To prevent such trespass it is his duty to
compel the delinquent to repair his fence,
under the Act of Assembly quoted above,
and if the delinquent still refuses to repair
the fence it is the duty of the other to make
the repairs himself and sue the delinquent
for the cost incurred.
Joke on the Chickens.
They Die Up in Nome Waiting for the Tardy Sunset.
Anything more miserable than the life
of a chicken up in the Cape Nome district
cannot well be imagined, according toa
letter received from W. J. Harden, at pres-
ent prospecting. At the date Mr. Harden
wrote the sun set at 11.30 and rose again
at 1.15. ‘*The chickens cannot live here,’’
Mr. Harden explained, ‘‘dying of exhaus-
tion in walking about waiting for the sun
to set. Then they are up again at sunrise,
and a week of that sort of thing simply
lays them out dead. We pay $2.50 each
for cold storage chickens.’’
In the winter season it would be just as
tough on the bird, for the sun stays away -
as long as during the summer he reigns,
and four hours daylight is all they get.
Referring to the Cape Nome boom Mr.
Harden says it is too late for any one else
to go. Everything, he says, is preempted.
‘‘Some of the prospectors have taken as
high as 150 claims, and I know of an in-
stance where the 4nan has 178. He will
not be able todo the assessment work on all
gf them and theseare the only inducements
left.
According to the mine laws, in a quartz
mine a prospector must sink ten feet, for
which the government allows $10, and as
the usual assessment must be $100, that
work complies with the requirements of
the location right. On placer mines, such
as those at Cape Nome, $10 worth of work
must also be done. Harden does not say
what the rich sands are doing, but he took
two rockers north with him, and by going
over the sands already washed he manages
to make from $1 to $3 per day, ‘‘and we
keep the rockers going all the time,”’ he
writes, ‘‘because there is no night here.”
Speaking. of the high prices charged in
the overcrowded district, be says, ‘‘tea is
25 cents a 2up, so is coffee. Ipaid $10a
‘day at the hotel for seven days, and there
were four of us in the party, making the
hill for the week $280. Lumber is $150 a
thousand and they cannot deliver it quick
enough at the price. Beds are $4 per night.
Beef sells at 75 cents per pound and bacon
at 35 cents. Longshoremen get $1.50 per
hour and carpenters get $5 per day and
‘their board. Gamblers pay $20 to the men
they hire at their table and gambling ‘is
run wide open.
A Costly Dispute.
‘The taxpayers of Mifflin and Hunting-
don counties are counting up the cost of a
useless litigation, just ended. Some years
ago a dispute arose ovei the houndary line
between the two counties. Commissioners
were appointed, including lawyers and
surveyors. The local conrts buffeted with
the question for a long time, and now the
superior court decides that the boundary
line is where it has always been. To learn
all this the two counties expended about
$20,000. -
A Common Complaint.
“I believe every man was sent into this
world to do something.”
“So dol, and I rlink Ican tell what you
think you were sens here to do.”
“What 2’ ;
‘Growl because you can’t do something
diicrent from what you find it necessary to
o.
THAT THROBBING HEADACHE—Would
quickly leave you, if you used Dr. King’s
New Life Pills. Thousands of sufferers
have proved their matchless merit for Sick
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