i.
Bellefonte, Pa., Fed. 8, 1901.
EH SSSR,
BY THE WAYSIDE.
Pa ust to go to church an’ pray,
An’ in class meetin’ have a say,
Had fam’ly wuship ev'ry night
An’ iried to raise us boys up right,
The preacher called him “Brother Todd,"
An’ said he was a child of God,
“Id bin ann ’inted 'mong the saints
And cleansed from all his sinful taints,
An’ that same preacher ust to be
At our house purty frekently,
To read a chapter o' the Word
An’ pray ontil I bet they heard
His supplieations flyin’ 'roun
Clear to the other end o’ town.
An’ then he'd stay far dinner. My,
But how he'd make the chicken fly,
And praise ma’s cookin’, an’ she'd smile
An’ ou his waitin’ plate’d pile
More provender, an’ he'd jes’ flop
His jaws an’ never holler “Stop,”
An’ never break away ontil
He hadn’t no more space to fill,
But, as I was saying’, pa
Was jes’ a Christian up to taw,
But, since the time he got to be
A polertician, somehow he
Thinks more 0’ gettin’ office place
Than of the means o’ savin’ grace,
Don’t never go to church no more
Nor kneel down on the fam’ly, floor,
With us around, an’ ask the Lord
To temper the avengin’ sword
To us shorn lambs, an’ shed the light
(’ grace upon us day an’ night. °
Ma says he's backslid from the fold,
That on the throne he’s slipped his hold,
An’ he is that way cause she knows
No polertician ever goes
To heaven, an’ she's skeered that he
Is founderin’ in the sintul sea.
But I've a sort o' Christian hope
He's yet a-hangin’ to a rope,
To pull back to the fold agin
When he has got his fill 0’ sin,
The rope a-bein’ ruther slim
Fur sich a hefty fish as him,
But he hangs to it, true as steel—
He asts a blessin’ every meal.
— Barton Adams, in Denver Post.
AT THE “BLOODY ANGLE.”
On the afternoon of May 11th, 1864, the
advance force of the Union army, moving
through the Wilderness toward Richmond,
was lying on muddy ground a short dis-
tance north of Spottsylvania Court House.
Rain drenched the soldiers, and at dark a
cold wind set to blowing in among. the
black trunks of the scattering trees. It
lifted the heavy folds of the canvas shelters
which the men had dejectedly spread and
crawled under, and drove them out one by
one. The soldiers coaxed the uncertain
camp-fires. Sometimes a nest of rubbishy
twigs would toss up a tiny flame which
could be induced to take notice of the wet,
naked branches that were arranged tempt-
ingly about it. In this case there was a
living blaze,and dozens of soldiers deserted
their own private mounds of steaming ruin
and delightedly crowded round. For the
most part, however, this camp on the eve
of battle was wholly miserable in appear-
ance; it reeked with discomfort, which the
army endured with mingled sulkiness and
good humor. At about nine o’clock in the
evening orders came to pick up and move.
The regiments were expected to march
with absolute stillness, The rank and file
knew that the real advance was beginning,
which would end in an attack on some
point, supposed to he vulnerable, of the
enemy’s line of works, and this knowledge
cheered them by lending importance to
their movements. That slight numbness
of the heart which is the first effect of an
impending struggle toughened them against
the dreariness of their labor. The steady
progress through the rainy darkness con-
tinued still like a river. The men trudged
along without thought or conversation.
As it was now the seventh day of fighting
in the Wilderness, many were so worn ont
that they fell asleep as they walked, and
Bropped their muskets from their shoulders
with a little rasping thud. The only oth-
er sounds were distant ones—the muffled
rattle and bump from the artillery brigade,
and the noise of axe blows where Lee’s
soldiers were chopping timber to clog the
approaches to their barricades,
Once during the night a stampede oc-
¢urred in the ranks of the Ninety-ninth
Pennsylvania Regiment of the Second
Army Corps. A soldier of the pioneers ac-
cidentally ‘discharged his musket. This
frightened the horses of some staff officers
of General Birney’s; avd set up analarm
which, sent a dozen mounted men charging
back into the regiment. There was a be-
wildered rush out of the column to clear
the way for the galloping horses, but al-
most immediately the thing was under-
stood. The men mechanically re-formed,
and when the staff officers, returning to
the front of the division with a swift tread
of horses’ hoofs and rattle of bridle.chains,
rode past them the privates pleased them-
selves by making certain’ remarks ina low
tone of voice. Sergeant John H. Fasnacht
—it is the story of his part in the events
led up to by the night march which is be-
ing told—--was in Company A of the Ninety-
ninth. It was not until between one and
two o'clock in the morning, he remembers,
“that the order was given to, halt and to
“right by file’ into the line-of-battle, after
which every man knew that he was privi-
leged to sleep on his arms until dawn.
Sergeant Fasnacht was awakened by a
dig in the ribs from an officer’s sword. It
was still raining; mist drifted through the
woods in great clouds; and in the half day-
light the army was gesting in motion. Sol-
diers asked stupidly, as they straightened
‘out their positions: =
‘‘What does this mean?!’ {apa
They knew well enough what it meant.
. The others answered vaguely. as if to mani-
fest only a speculative interest in the out-
come : arty ; Tan
‘Dunno. . Where are we going ?’’.
The enemy’s works were supposed to be
less than a mile in their front. The men
planged into a heavy swamp, which must
be passed, overgrown with briery entangle-
ments and vexatious trees. A little way
on the ground was covered with dense
marsh-grass, tall,thick bladed; and musket
balls sped through the blades with pro-
‘longed moaning. Fasnacht was ‘behind
his company as file-closer. He bad no indi-.
vidual plans at this moment, but shared
the general forward-going impulse that
carried the whole army rapidly on through
the misty, impenetrable wood toward the
place from which the bullets came. The
“sounds of fring grew louder. Here and
there a soldier fell suddenly. as if hit from
behind by a club. The others paid no at-
tention to these incidents. They marched
doggedly on, and their persistence brought
them at last into the open clearing with
the defences of the enemy in full view—a
dark line extending to right and left under
the fog, which was blackened just here by
the sluggish smoke of camp-fires.
Somebody shouted out a cheer.
It was
against orders to make any noise, but oth-
ers unrestrainedly took up the cry, and, as
if this were the signal, began to run for the
works. At the same instant there was a
commotion over there also; riflemen show-
ed their heads, and doubled. shel fire
Confederate flag was
pi
p<
all. The sight of this instant
made another man of Sergeant Fasnacht.
He became a partisan leader who has des-
perate schemes beyond the ordinary pur-
poses of a movement. The earthworks
looked formidable enough even before they
“had been tested. To take them was, per-
haps, impossible; yet this was already an
accomplished fact in the sergeant’s mind.
He had borne his share in their capture,
and now, in his mind’s eye, he saw him-
self engaged alone in an enterprise more
dangerous yet. The bearer of those colors
was his prisoner; he had captured the rebel
flag. This idea flashed upon the sergeant
all in one confused moment, and then took
shapein a definite determination. But as
he ran round the right of his company and
sprang ahead of the men, he appeared only
one among a mad group who were rushing
straight at an invincible earth-wall which
had promised their destruction.
The wall doled out destruction to the
lines of soldiers, one by one. The charge
resolved itself into a problem of distance
versus volley firing, complicated by ithe
consideration of those who fell. As the
ranks were thinned, so the bullets did
more terrible execution among the sur-
vivors.
Then came an entirely new aspect of the
charge. The attacking force had reached
a barricade of felled trees, lying with limbs
outward toward the Union soldiers. Be-
hind this was a ditch filled with water,
and from the opposite side of the ditch
rose the earthworks, with the men in dirty
gray discharging their bayoneted muskets
in rain and smoke—and the flag waving
over all. The few men that were ahead
were caught fast in the first entanglement;
but as they faltered, struggling, the mass
of the line crashed heavily against their
backs and pushed them through into the
ditch. Now details of war went out from
sight, lost in the blind fighting on the part
of masses of men. Fasnacht had felt him-
self hurled forward into the diteh. Vividly
he saw for a brief second bayonets being
eagerly thrust out to pierce his chest. He
felt, rather than believed, that these would
not touch him; struck down the soldier di-
rectly in front of him with the butt of his
musket, and found himself standiug on top
of the earth-mound. The flag was only a
few feet away. He rushed at the color-
bearer, a tall man who was holding the flag
high; with outstretched arm he yelled to
him to surrender.
A section of the fighting came between
them. The man with the colors and the
soldiers about him dropped inside the de-
fences and ran off toward some woods. Be-
fore Fasnacht could fellow the smoke and
fog bad hidden them. The ground on both
sides of the works was choked with troops.
Fasnacht's regiment, entangled with the
enemy in among some shelter-tents of
blankets and canvas, was tearing a way
through by the use of bayonet and butt
toward a battery which had opened fire at
short range. The sergeant, intent upon
his business of theday, avoided the bloody
confusion here and set off alone toward the
woods. He reasoned that as there was an
open gap on the right of the Union battle-
line, the color-hearer would try to escape
on that side. He took a course through
the empty woods which would head off the
party with the flag.
Although he could see nothing but the
glistening trunks of trees, he felt sure that
the flag would not escape him, and so con-
tinued for perhaps a hundred and fifty
yards at a stumbling run, impatiently
pushing aside briery shrubs, breathlessly
going on. Then appeared in front of him,
through an arch of the trees, the color-
bearer carrying his flag. Five or six men,
his color-guard, were just behind him.
Fasnacht threw his musket to his shoulder,
pressing his finger against the trigger. The
gun was not loaded. The other saw him.
“Surrender !'” panted Sergeant Fas-
nacht.
The tall man said: ‘‘Don’t shoot. I
surrender.’”’ The men with him made no
motion to fire. Doubtless their guns were
not loaded. . The tall man reached out the
flag on its stick, which the sergeant, still
keeping his formidable musket cocked, let
fall at his feet. He told the men of the
color-guard: to drop their arms, and they
did so, (ites is
“Get to the rear,’ continued hein a
cool fashionj and as soon as the Conled-
erates had passed round him and disappear-
ed, he turned his attention to the captured
prize. - It was old! with service, inscribed
sergeant grinned ‘in his good humor. He.
was delighted with ‘himself at that mo-
ment. Standing on the staff he ripped the
flag off and stuffed it away under his loose
blouse. «ion ood {1 10 aiar i
“You had better let me have that,’’
somebody said behind him. Turning with
a jerk he saw the colonel of his regiment
some distance away, and, farther off, some
of his comrades coming through the woods.
serious, gloomy face, and, as 1f the move-
meut were mechanical, eontinued to erowd
the flag into his bosom. (7 iat ad
Keep: it," said the’ colonel,’ with a
laugh. RY al ady or ane
‘The Northerti regiments were crowding
through the woods and charging across the
open space in ‘the direction f a second line
‘of works. Fasnacht went along with them,
and in five ‘minutes’ fell; wounded in ‘the
knee by a nmiusket-ball. ‘The rest of that
day he was ‘destined 110¢'to ‘do, but to’ be
‘done with. The battle-flag,” however, of
the Louisiana ‘Tigers ‘was in’ his: army
blouse. This ‘went. far to sustain’ him as
began to carry him to the rear.’ EE
They had not gone above hall a mile
when a provost guard met them and said
that orders were for the carriers to, leave
the wounded together on the ground, and
return to their regiments. Fasnacht was
accordingly set down like a bundle in 'a
place where hundreds of the wounded had
been gathered. As it happened, the ene-
my’s artillery had the range, and the ser-
geant shared in an ordeal of exploding
shell before ‘which the most dare-devil of
them all was, of necessity, quite cold. This
was not funny, but the men who joke
fear. After a time the stretcher-bearers
came again, They carried Fasnacht to an
ambulance, in which he was driven to a
little grove in the rear, by a stream of wa-
ter and a cornfield on a rising hill. There,
with some of the others, all left-overs from
an overcrowded hospital, he slept the night
squad of Confederate cavalry rode up and
made them prisoners.
‘We're goin’ to wait for the ambulances
your people ’11 send over for yer, so we’ll
ave something to ride you Yanks in style
to Richmond,’’ said a communicative man.
He teased the prisoners which he told
ung ub high “above 1
‘tainty of prison—as to |
‘with the names of battles and the title of
the regiment, Second Louisiana Tigers. The
He stared at the mounted officer with a
the men with stretchers picked him up and
found material for wit in their own frantic.
of May 12th. In the morning, early, a |.
hidden treasure. Fasvachs, however,
groaned 5 loudly Hat ae Confederate
good-naturedly lefs him alone. The
still wadded in hig blouse, rs
Itice for -wouhded § i 4 %
The sergeant forgot to dream :about
ibby Prison or Belle Isle as the morning
passed. He wanted to look at his flag.
There was nothing he wanted so much—
not even freedom from pain or the cer-
spread the discol-
ored beauty of the thing before him. At
last there came an oportunity when the
prisoners were deserted; only there were
six of the enemy lying wounded among
themselves, and from these the operation
must be shrewdly hidden. Fasnacht pull-
ed off his blouse. Tho hospital steward
‘helped him, keeping his back between the
wounded Confederates and the sight. He
spread the flag over his legs and pulled an
army blanket over it. ‘The hospital stew-
ard set to work opening the lining of the
blouse, which was packed with cotton. He
worked out all the cotton, and, after a
time, the two folded up the flag compactly
and sewed it inside the lining.
Days passed, during which the sergeant
listened to the dull conversations of the
wounded, which gradually came to sound
like the chatter of a single voice endlessly
repeating the same thing. The booming
of cannon was often heard, but always
faintly, as if from a great distance. Just
before sunset, however, after one of these
days of captivity and waiting. a soldier
suddenly sat up and shouted.
“Look up there on the hill,”’ he called
out.
On the hill beyond the cornfield a piece
of artillery was unlimbering. Infantry in
blue uniform were marching over the brow
of the hill.
Here ended the succession of incidents
in the military career of Sergeant John H.
Fasnacht (later a’ lieutenant of United
States Volunteers, ) during whieh he had
won the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Recaptured by this detachment of Federal
troops, which had heen sent to the relief of
the wounded prisoners, he was sent on to
Washington, where, on the wall beside his
cot in the army hcepital, the flag of the
Tigers was hung. It was then, inconversa-
tion with his visitors about the capture of
the flag, that the sergeant learned that the
point of the works where his exploit had
been performed was already renowned as
the ‘Bloody Angle’ of Spottsylvania.
—By Carl Hovey, in Everybody's Magazine.
$15,000 Pension to a Hermit.
Bradenall Will Put $10,000 Into a Monument Over
the Grave of His Wife.
Anthony Bradenall, otherwise known as
Anthony Hull, of near Millstone, Md.,
who disappeared fifteen yeais ago, after a
trial in Hagerstown for stealing chickens,
of which he was acquitted on his own testi-
mony, was found on Thursday living in a
hut in Berkeley county, West Virginia,
where he subsists on herbs and wild meats,
sleeps on a bed of straw, but keeps up a
roaring fire for company. His hair is long,
clothing in tatters, and he has not worn a
pair of shoes for fifteen years, but tramps
about barefooted in all kinds of weather.
Twenty-five years ago he stole a blind
girl, a Miss Myers, from her home near
Millstone, carried her ten miles to the
home of a minister and forced him to per-
form the marriage ceremony at the point of
an old army pistol that had not been load-
ed for several years. He then carried his
wife back to her mother and devoted him-
self to supporting the family by converting
cross-ties, hoop-poles, shingles, etc., into
money wherever he could find them with-
out the owner's consent.
The government has just granted Bra-
denall a pension of $5 a month and back
pay amounting to more than $15,000, $10,-
000 of which he intends to put into a
monument over his wite’s grave. He in-
tends to give $5,000 to ‘‘Aunt Katie’ Man-
ning, an old woman living west of Mill.
stone, who has lost all record of her birth
and who is supposed to he abouta hun-
dred years old, and in perfect health, for
allowing him one winter to cut her fire-
wood in exchange for a place to sleep and
his victuals, as he put it. He was in the
battle of Gettysburg and received wounds
in;his head that affected his reason. He
enlisted from Franklin county, Pa., where
he was born and raised.
Underground Buildings.
Stories Below ‘the Curb Line a Featuve in New Office
Structures. #3 4
' A building rising a hundred feet above
the ‘carb line in the business part of New
York City is:an imposing and valuable hit
of real estate. Evgineers are construct-
ing two such buildings below the curb
line. These new subterranean buildings
‘will provide in their basement, sub-base-
ment, cellar and sub-cellar—their four
stories, iin other. words—>55,000.square feet
of new floor space. At the very mo lerate
rental of $2 per year per square foot there
is an’ increment in rental value alone of
more: than + $110,000 a year, : which; is a
handsome return on $2,000,000,
While this new floor space may not be in
demand for offices, it will naturally be in
great: demand for the accomodation of the
enormous machinery plant which, under
modern conditions, is necessary 0 the.
maintenance of a great office building.
The space now utilized’ for ‘this machinery |
will: naturally be available underthe new
condition for other and more remuperative
uses, in which the archives, of corpora-
peril of fire.’ ‘So’ ‘shat in‘ spite of the iex-
pense of sub:constractiow; which is natural-
the air. on account of the cost of caissons
and the limited number of workmen who
can atone time work in the caissons, in
the end : new underground. floor space will
be found substantially clear gain...
Certainly the foundations of the entire
structure, which will forever rest on hed-
rock can never be shaken or disturbed by
the construction of a railway tunnel,
Swallowed False Teeth.
Chewing molassas candy with false teeth
nearly cost Ira. Keene, of Dover, N. H.,
his life. While biting off a piece Mr.
Keene broke the plate of his false teeth in
halves. He swallowed one half of the
late. : va
2 ‘Quickly following the accident, a physi-
cian ‘was sent for, who applied the usual
remedies, but they failed to relieve the pa-
tient. The physician worked bard to alle-
viate Mr. Keene's distress, but was unsuc-
cessful. :
The sufferer was taken to Boston, and in
the afternoon ' the surgeons at the Massa-
chusetts General hospital opened the stom-
ach and removed the teeth.
It was pronounced the most delicate oper-
ration performed at the institution for some
time, but the physicians said on Friday
that Mr. Keene would recover.
tions ‘may be Kept beyond the remotest |
ly greater than that. of building np into
any other building ‘whatsoever, or ever by
‘Fatal Results May Often be Correctly Ascribed to It.
The death of John R. Beart at 5127 Wa-
hash avenhe on Sunday Hlastiates a point
that has been dwelt upon for years b
rm pad on. Mr. Beart i
Angust last had a struggle with a bull dog
and was bitten in three places. e strug-
glein itself was of a character to produce
nervous exhaustion, to say nothing of the
mutilation by the dog. Upon examina-
tion it was shown that the dog was not
afflicted with rabbies. Mr. Beart recover-
ed from the immediate effects of the strug-
gle and returned to work. But a week ago
he was taken ill and grew steadly worse to
the end. Those in attendance believe
that he died of fear of hydrophobia.
There is no dispute as to the main facts
in the case. The dog that attacked Mr.
Beart did not have any disease. Mr. Beart
had no symptoms of hydrophobia, but he
lived for months in horror of the most
dreaded of diseases, and this resulted in
conditions that caused death.
If the dog that made the attack on Mr.
Beart had been killed, as in usual in such
cases, the case would undoubtedly bave
been catalogued in the hydrophobia list.
As the case stands it gives strength to the
theory that a great many of the so-called
cases of rabies are produced solely by fear.
Without discussing any of the theories
as to rabies advanced in recent years, it
may be safely asserted that the disease it-
self is extremely rare. In forty years in
Paris there were reported only ninety-four
cases of hydrophobia. In the whole of
France, with a population of 36,000,000,
there were reported in six years 107
cases. Investigation showed chat not
more than 5 per cent. of persons bitten by
rabid dogs became hydrophobic. In the
city of New York there were reported in
six years twenty-two cases of hydrophobia.
The number of deaths is not reported.
Those who have made close investigation
have arrived at the conclusion that where
any heavy clothing covers the part bitten
there is little danger, even from the most
rabid dog. But the belief that the bite of
a hydrophobic dog is necessarily fatal and
that death comes in a horrible way is so
common that a man bitten by any dog
gives his imagination free rein and suffers
such mental torture as to make him a prey
to other forms of disease.
Dogs are subject to so many diseases re-
garding which the majority of people have
absolutely no information that even the
most harmless animals are regarded with
suspicion. Even a dog that has lost its
master on the street often becomes so excit-
ed that pedestrians call on policemen to
shoot it.
Certain diseases common to the dog fam-
ily are manifested in ecnvulsions or fits.
and by the ignorant a dog so afflicted is
pronounced mad and treated accordingly.
A dog trained to high spirits and pugnac-
ity sometimes turns from a conflict with
another dog to bite the man who inter-
feres. That dog is forthwith pronounced
mad and the wound is cauterized, whereas
if the bite were by a cat or a horse no at
tention would be paid to it and no alarm
would be felt.
The dog is more closely associated with
men, women and children than any other
domestic animal. It is trained to watch-
fulness, to resistance, to attack and de-
fence, and at the same time it is expected
to observe many of the amenities of life
disregarded by men and women, If a dog
mopes with a distemper, or exhibits any
symptons of any common disease, it is
treated as a mad dog, and often in a way
to push the poor brute to the extremity of
fary.
Thousands of people in the country dis-
triots are bitten by dogs every year, and
no thought is given to the matter. Those
engaged in training dogs are bitten fre-
quently, and they think no more of the
slight hurts than the hostler who is nip-
ped by a horse thinks of his bruises or
wounds. In the city a bite by any dog
becomes the subject of such anxiety as to
induce absolute fzar. ;
The truth is that the bite of a dog is no
more harmful than the bite or scratch of
a cat or the bite of a horse, but the people
of this day have inherited from supersti-
tious ages such horror of the word hydro-
phobia that the dog which is at once the
pet of children and the terror of burglarsin
its health usnally finds no commiseration
or even human consideration in its illness.
From the Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Filling the Army,
Five Thousand Recruits Wanted. 1,800 Officers to be
Named by the President. 7
There will be no delay at the war de-
partment in ‘executing the army reorgani-
zation law. The reorganization scheme en-
grossed almost the entire attention of mili-
tary authorities on Friday, and the result
will be officially promulgated in general
orders as soon as the bill ‘shall ‘have ‘been
signed by the president. The matters
which will receive the earliest attention
are the appointments of the. general and
field officers and the recruitment of ten ad-
ditional regiments of infantry and cavalry
authorized by thebill: Recruiting stations
have been established at all the principal
centres of population, and all available
officers in this country have been assigned
to recruiting duty. There is an iinmediate
demand for at least 5,000 recruits to meet
deficiencies in the Philippines, eaused by
the necessary discharge of the entire vol-
unteer forces by the 30th of June at the
latest, vio 7503 crud Des hineg dedi sei
ABOUT 1,800 OFFICERS TO BE NAMED, ''/
All the principal appointments provided
for in the bill praetically have been deocid-
<2 npon by the president. A list of these
nominations has been ade out at the war
department, and will be submitted to the
Senate without delay. In case the bill is
tigned this week, which is confidently ex-
pected, the appointments already agreed
apon will be sent to the Senate early next
‘week, possibly Monday. These appoint-
‘ments will ‘include’ ‘a lieutenant general;
four major generals, nine brigadier generals
and the colonels and other officers essen-
tial to the organization of the ten new reg-
iments. The impression prevails at the
war department ' that General Miles will
undoubtedly receive the lieutenant. gener-
aley and that Generals MacArthur, Wood,
Wade and Young are most likely to. be
made major generals, ‘although i6 is possi-
ble that General Merriam may be ‘'substi-
tuted for one of the four named. =
Among the officers mentioned as likely to
receive commissions as brigadier generals
are Generals Bates, Wheaton, Chaffee, Sch-
Schwan, Arnold, Rodgers and Wood (if the
last named does not secure the higher
grade.) - ;
Including line and staff, the president
will have to appoint aboat 1,800 officers to
meet the requirements of the new law.
There is great pressure to secure these ap-
pointments, and the president will be ex-
ceedingly busy for some time to come in
making his selections from among the al-
most countless applicants either for pro-
motions or original appointments. /
Harvard Lad Dropped Dead While Box-
ing.
Be.
Curtis L. Crane Received a Tap From His Chum and
Almost Instantly Expired. Doctor Summoned Ex-
presses the Opinion That the Blow Was Not the
; Cause of Death. 2
A sad accident occurred at Cambridge,
Mass., Saturday afternoon in a Craigie
Hall room, when Curtis L. Crane of Brook-
line fell dead while boxing with George R.
Ainsworth, a student at Lawrence Scien-
tific School. Crane and Ainsworth were
old friends. They went to school at
Brookline and from the earliest days of
their boyhood were the closest of chums.
Crane and Ainsworth, with four other
Harvard men, assemhled in Ainsworth’s
room in Craigie Hall about 3 o'clock.
They were laughing and joking and enjoy-
ing themselves. Some one suggested the
gloves and Crane and Ainsworth were not
averse to making a little sport for their
friends. Accordingly the gloves were
brought out.
The two men went at each other lightly
at first, but in a few minutes they had
warmed up to their work and were fur-
nishing plenty of amusement to those who
were looking on. Ainsworth, however,
seemed to be getting the worst of it. He
is a slightly built chap, and with a shorter
reach than his opponent, he found things
going hard against him. Crane pushed
Sm hard and landed several hlows on the
ace. .
After the men had been boxing about
four minutes and Ainsworth succeeded in
landing only a few blows on his opponent’s
body he struck him a snap blow in the
face. With a groan Crane sank back
against the mantel and then fell uncon-
scious to the floor. Dr. Bailey, the col-
lege physician, was summoned, and in
eight minutes after the accident occurred
he was on the scene. But the man was
dead.
An autopsy was held at which it wasde-
cided that he had died of heart disease in
as mach as the one side of his heart
was very much larger than the other.
All who witnessed the accident asserted
that the blow which Ainsworth gave Crane
was not enongh in itself to have resulted
in his death. It was the merest tap, and
was delivered in such a manner that it fell
with almost no force.
Dr. Bailey said that Crane’s death could
not have been caused by the blow.
“There were no external evidences,”’ he
said, ‘‘of violence.
Lots of Gold.
Americans Are Tempted by “Fortunes” Abroad, but
Rarely Get Them.
It is very gratifying to read that a
young woman of Bridgeport has fallen heir
to a fortune of $20,000,000 now *‘in chan-
cery’’ in England. In these days, when
all industry is supposed to he sharing the
general activity, it would have been a seri-
ous break in the continuity if the business
of inheriting estates in chancery had failed
to keep up with the general hoom. Every-
body in this country knows about estates
in chancery. The general belief is that
chancery 1s a large chamber in the safe de-
posit department of the Bank of Eugland,
where is gathered the gold accumulated
through generations past by all who have
relatives in American. As a rule this gold
comes in lamps of from $20,000,000 to
$30,000,000, but at times the fortunes run
up to $50,000,000 each. No one knows
how ‘much is piled np there, but it is evi-
dently much more than all the gold in the
world. That’s one of the interesting de-
tails about it. Only a few petty obstacles
stand between this gold and those in
America who want it. Hire a lawyer or
some other adventurer and send him to
Europe at your own expense and you will
find out what the obstacles are. They are
liable to range all the way from not being
any money to not being any claim on it.
Rainbow chasers and chancery claimants
flock together. -Theyare alter the same
pot of gold and it is ahout as easy for
one to tind it as for theother.
Farmer Assassinated.
Thomas McHenry, of near Royersburg, was the
Victim.
At 1 oclock Sunday morning Thomas
McHenry, a well-to-do lumber merchant
and farmer residing near Royershurg, Col-
umbia county, was shot by “an unknown
in, and death ensued six hours later.
Mr. McHenry was aroused from his sleep
by a noise in his barn and he arose, dress-
ed and went to the building to investigate.
As he neared the place a shot rang out and
McHenry : dropped. The . bullet struck
him just above the heart and came out of
his back. Mrs. McHenry at onced sum-
moned aid and the victim was taken into
his home. = He was conscious for ‘an’ hour
bat ‘was unable ‘to: name. the murderer.
He then lapsed into an unconscions state,
in which condition he remained until his
death at 7 o'clock. It is ‘the ‘general be-
lief that it’ was a coldblooded murder, al
though every precaution . had; been taken
to make it appear as a [frustrated robbery.
Several sacks of flour had been taken from
the bari and ‘placed’ outside so it would
appear that they weve left beliind ‘because
of the hurried departure after the shooting.
The assassin was tracked for some distance
and it was evident that he had no_convey-
ance, ‘and therefore, could not have taken
away the sacks of flour ‘with; which he
sought te cover up the murder... («0
_ No arrests have been made, by the au-
hotties, nor is any reason given for the
murder. It is ramored that sensational
developements may follow." Mr. McHen-
ry was 35 years of age and leaves a wife
and six children: - .... oooh
re
0
Pork Was “Doctored.?
An Entire Family Poisoned and: One Member. Dead
Asa result of eating ‘pork, supposed ‘to
have been *‘doctored’” ‘with some sort of
presgrvatle, a whole family was poigoned
unday. evening in Pittsburg. One mem-
ber is dead and five others seriously ill.’
‘Dead —Mi1s. Ann Fox, widow of a form
well known coal operator... fo
Seriously Ill—Mis. Ellen Cuddy, wid:
owed daughter of Mrs. Fox ; Ella McCart-
ney, a granddaughter of Mrs. Fox; Thomas
Cuddy, a grandson ; James 'T. Fox, a son;
Harry M. Fox, a son of James Fox.
The family, who live at No. 2 Lavark |
street, West knd, all ate of spare ribs for
supper Sunday night, and within a shoré
time afterward, all were writhing in
agony. Fortunately a neighbor noticed
Mais. Fox in the yard vomiting. Upon in-
vestigation she found members of the fam-
ily scattered all through the house, each
suffering and helpless. ‘She summoned the
family physician, Dr. Ryall, and his
prump; attention saved ali except Mrs,
ox, who died during the night. The
others, though still in a critical condition,
ap Fesbver.t GLE alge TY
‘The physician says their is no doubt that
boracic and salicylic acid in the preserva-
tive was the cause of the trouble.
With the Feet to the East.
An Old-time Burial Practice Which Has Now Fallen
Very Largely Into Disuse. Sie.
There was recently reprinted in the
‘‘Sun’’ from a western newspaper a para-
graph about the disinterment and reburial
of a body in a cemetery, because it had
been buried in the wrong way, says the
New York ‘‘Sun.”’” The undertaker,”’ so
the paragraph said, ‘‘was a new wan a¢
business, and the body was placed with its
feet to the west. The relatives re-ealled
the fact, and would not be satisfied auntil
the remains were exhumed and turned
‘with the feet to the east, in accordance
with the popular custom."
New York undertakers say that here-
abouts bodies are buried according to the
situation of the burial plot : with the feet
to the path in front, however that may
bring the body with regard to the points of
the compass. It was a common custom in
old times to bury the dead with the feet to
the east, so that when they should rise on
the day of resurrection they would rise fac-
ing whence the summons was expected.
There are, it is said, whole churchyards
filled with dead, all facing the east ; but
with the growth of cities, and of cemeteries
outside of churchyard baring grounds,
this practice fell into disuse. Cemeteries
were variously situated, to start with ;and
then they were laid out in such a manner
as to bring the land within them most ad-
vantageously into use. Obviously, for il-
lustration, of a double tier of lots joining
at the back and each tier facing otf a path,
one tier of lots would face one way, and
the other tier in exactly the opposite way.
A body buried in one of these lots,
facing either way, wounld be buried with
the feet to the path upon which the lot
fronted ; so that the bodies in the two tiers
of this double tier of lots would face in
exactly opposite directions, and it might
be that neither faced exactly east.
In laying out cemeteries there are likely
to be curving roads, and there might be
roads crossing diagonally ; with the result
of some plots of irregular shape and some
triangular ; and these are likely to be
found in cemeteries some circular plots.
In a circular plot that was enclosed by
other land, it might be that the grades
would be made with the feet toward the
monament at the center of the plot; if, as
would more likely be the case, the circular
plot had a path around it, then the bodies
would be placed with their head to the
central monument and their feet to the
path, the graves radiating from the center,
and so lying as to the points of the com-
pass, in various directions. In triangular
plots the bodies might not be interred
with feet to a path, but lengthwise of the
plot in its longest section ; in this or other
irregular plots they would be buried as
they could be most appropriately to the
plot. But in most lots it is impossible to
bury the body with the feet to the path and
this is now without regard to the compass
points substantially the common practice.
And if a body were disinterred from one
lot and reinterred in another it would,
upon its reinterment be placed with its
feet to the frout of the new lot whether
this faced in the same direction as the old
one or not. It is the location of the lot
that governs ; the practice being to bury
with the feet and thus. of course, the face,
toward the path.
But while the direction in which bodies
shall lie buried is nowadays commonly
thus determined, there are those who still
prefer to be buried facing east, and who
accomplish that result simply by buying
a lot that faces in that direction-
Mrs. Nation’s Husband.
He is an Old Soldier, but Has Lost the Fighting Tem-
per Which His Wife Retains.
Mrs. Nation was not lacking in finaneial
aid to fight her case. Aside from the as-
sistance she received from the various W.
C. T. U. organizations throughout the eoun-
try, it is said that the people in Chicago,
New York, Cincinnati and Kausas City also
sent money to aid ber.
David Nation, the kind-faced old veter-
an, who is hent with a weight of 72 years,
was a constant visitor at the jail. While
true, he was not permitted to enter the
bastile because of the quarantine, but this
fact did not deter him from slowly wend-
ing his way over the hard pavement three
times a day, and, no matter how cold the
weather, he stood just belew his wife’s cell
window and conversed with her abont the
news of the day and the progress her at-
torneys were making in her behalf.
Through him’ the_ prisoner communicated
with the outside world. Mr. Nation is
himself a total abstainer. but forall that he
is not in sympathy with his wife’s radical
measures to bring about reform. The old
war veteran himself acknowledged this,
find the wife also’ was ‘well ‘aware of the
act. i PRN « Tita OE BIEng
Turning Brewn Like a Filipino.
Ponta n —— NBR dcr Be
. Mrs. Rose Lowe, 28 years old was taken
suddenly ill at her howe, 505 Second ave-
nue, New York, a few days ago. A physi-
cian who was called in to attend her found
that she was suffering from a contraction of
the small glands in the region of the kid-
neys. She became worse,and Tuesday was
removed to Bellevue hospital, where it was
found that all: the ‘glands in the body had
become - more. or, less. contracted and that
ber skin had turned to a dark brown color
giving the woman the appearance of a
bronze statue. The disease from which
she is suffering, is known as ‘‘Addison’s
disease’’ from the celebrated Eoglish phy-
sician of that name, who discovered 1t.
Cases of it are rare, and many leading phy-
sicians have been to see Mrs. Lowe. They
say that she will die. i Bits Prd ff 3
WHE 7s EES TE AL Ld BT aL
Bumped His Mead, Now 11 Right,
boii Missiiell oh Moen y Holly, N Jo
who has been running a farm near Jobs-
town, has Pot ering from a
which affected his ‘speech and also caused
temporary “aberration ¢f ‘mind. In: order
that he might receive the attention of his
sister he was removed to Mount Holly,
A few days ago he fell ont of bed and
struek his head a severe blow on the floor,
and since that time his mind and speech
have been restored. The jar evidently re-
moved a blood clot. ;
A Startler.
“Just came from downtown. Saw 19
men killed.” :
*‘Good gracious! Where?”
“In the latest high-class melodrama.”
—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
—————————————
His Past
“Ever in amateur theatricals ?’’
“Just once.”
“What part did you take!" |
‘‘Me ? I took all the abuse. I was stage
manager, you see.”’—Indianapolis Press.
-——Some people interpret ‘‘taking up
their cross” by getting cross early in the
morning and staying that way all day.