— a Bellefonte, Pa., August 30, 190l. EE —————— A MODERN PREACHER. He preached about the pleasure That there is in doing good ; He held the Scriptures sacred, And he did the best he could ; He consoled the weeping widow And he dried the orphan’s tear, He made his sermons scholarly, But few turned out to hear. He preached about the danger That there is in doing wrong ; He held that being righteous Goes for more than being strong ; He preached that men should follow The Lord’s teachings day by day. And presently he noticed That the people stayed away. He bought a magic lantern And some slides to fit the same, And announced that he thereafter Would be right up with the game ; He studied slang instead of Poring over ancient lore, And the crowds ere long began to have To line up at the door. He ceased to warn his hearers That they ought to change their ways ; He ceased to preach the Gospel, And he studied to amaze— He says they’re coming easy, He's as cockey as can be— They’ve given him a finer house And raised his salary. 4 Chicago Record-Herald. THE PRICE OF THE STAR. In the old geographies there was a pic- ture of a woman in white draperies floating in the air with a telegraph wire uncoiling from her hand. Over the plains behind her steamed a railroad train, and the lately discovered prairies were dotted with farms and villages. In front the Indians and buffalo fled before her, and on her forehead burned a great white star. Below the pic- ture was the legend, ‘‘Westward the star of empire takes its way.” It was some deep inspiration which em- bodied the westward progress of civiliza- tion in that floating woman. The plains behind her bore witness in a little sod walled home, and many a lower mound, sod-heaped in the creeping buffalo Tass. Of all the men who went into the un- tracked West for gold or adventure, some found the first and many the last, and all drank its wide freedom as an intoxicating wine. It was a good land to them ; turn- ing the sand of its streams and the grass of its hills into coin for their sakes, and its dark pines and gray sage into laurel. But the women who for love’s sake fol- lowed or went with the foremost, it was theirs to pay in blood the price of the star, and be for the most part forgotten. From the grim, drouth-scourged plains of the Kansas that once was, the Kansas of blizzard and grasshoppers and Indian raids, westward to the very sea the new empire took its toll. If waving corn and the smoke of cities sprang up in the track of the white man, they sprang from a soil fer- tilized with the hearts of women and little children. Well may the laud be rich; for rich in love and loyalty and fine patience were the lives it has taken into its bosom. Once the West ended with New Mexico and began again with California. Between lay a mountain walled, desert-hedged terra incognita—Apache Land, Arizona, Then some one whispered ‘‘gold,”’ and she of the star floated up across the horizon. Crook and his stubborn troopers chased the Apaches to liar and in their strongholds set adobe lookonts—Camp Verde, Camp Apache, Camp McDowell, and a dozen more—each with its handful of men in blue. ’ Reluctantly the Indians turnéd south- ward from their last retreat in the Mogol- lous, the beautiful Indian Garden. Over all these dark, sombre mountains, under their forest cloak, are the scars of old fires; brown rifted lava streams, deep canons black and smooth where the fiery flow dropped down, and craters, from the bub- bled funnel a yard across, to the deep,dark Indian Garden, where the little snow-fed lake at its bottom lies a thousand feet be- low the sun. Tall pines and mountain grass cover the park around ; the lake, and the beetling walls of the dead volcano are {green with spicewood, elderberries, and the sour red squawberries. Blackberries, wild currants and thorny gooseberries bang in the clefts; mescal and prickly pear dot the pumice slopes and cinder beds, and in the grass below wild strawberries redden in their season. Tiere are fish in the lake, deer, quail, and wild turkeys in the mountains above, and wild geese aud ducks dip down for a grateful rest iv their bi-yearly jour- neyings. ; An Indian paradise, reached only by one rude trail, down which the wiry ponies scrambled riderless and in single file. Here the Tonto Apaches hid their women and children while they fought with the Navajos to the east, or harried the weaker Supais and Hualpais to the northward ; and here they came with their booty, or re- treated when hard pressed, and drank tiz- win and feasted on baked mescal till the flurry was over aud it was safe to venture out. : Their wickiups still stood in clusters un.’ der the pines when a man and woman rode over the monntain rim, and halting their horses at the head of the trail looked down. The girl, she was little more, laughed and rose in the saddle, bracing herself with one ‘hand on the shoulder of her talier compan- ion as she peered over the edge. ~ ““This must be the jumping-off place, Jont. Yon said we were going to heaven.’’ And she dropped back into her seat, still laughing. w, “It’s the jumping-off place right enough, Sis, and I guess you'll think it’s heaven when we get to the bottom,’’ said the tall fellow, slipping out of his saddle and hold- ing his arms up to her. ‘‘Come along, Honey; there hasn’t been anything bigger than a bear over this trail since we chased the Tontos ous last fall, and I reckon it’s pretty rough. Put Doll’s bridle over the saddle-horn, and let her follow me and old Gray, and you come behind so the rocks * won’t roll on you. Forward, march! We're going home. Feels good to get ov the ground again, don’t it?” The boyish figure swung down the trail with the easy stride of one used to roads where silence and a sure foot are the price of life. His buckskin shirt and moccasins contrasted sharply with the army blue trousers and hroad sombrero, and the heavy army belt with its brace of pistols that hung at “his waist. He was not a soldier, yet for all his youth he bad the look of a man who had faced danger and could command. : Back at the post he was known as the best scout of bis years in the Southwest— Crook’s right hand man, ‘‘as straight as the day is Joug, and a better trailer than Picacho.”’ Picacho, the Apache renegade of surpassing cunning, §who wrote his name in blood across many a page of Arizona his- tory ; Picacho, who boasted that he could trail the breath of a white man if he never touched foot to the ground. At the foot of the trail the girl ran on ahead, peeping into the empty wickiups. “See, Jont, all the houses we want, all ready to move in. I'll have to have a housecleaning first, though; the Tontos aren’t very tidy housekeepers, I think.” The moist earth around the abandoned wickiups was rooted up in ridges, as if a drove of hogs had fed there, and the tule- grass beds and strips of bark that the Indi- ans had left were heaped in ridgy wallows such as hogs love to bed in in winter.” A startled ‘Woof! Woof!’ came from the farthest door, and something black and shaggy tumbled out into the bushes. “Don’t Jont. Don’t shoot!’’ cried the girl, catching his arm. ‘‘See. it’s a moth- er!” Two wee brown cubs falling over each other in awkward kaby fright follow- ed their mother into the brush. “They look just like little tricks learn- ing to walk. See that littlest one fall over. I'd as soon you’d kill a baby; and you wouldn't do that, not even an Indian baby.’ “No, Sis; but there’s plenty that would. Come on, now. and let’s ges supper, and then 1’) show you the ledge; it’s right over behind that big malpai dike. Wasn’t one of the hoys but me thought of pros- pecting in here. “‘Seems most too bad to drive the Ton- tos out of such a home,’’ said the girl lean- ing back against the roots of a pine, through whose branches the wind purred a gentle song. The camp fire erackled and shot up long strips of darker flame here and there as a resinous knot caught in the | blaze or the man pelted it with dry cones. The stars seemed like bright, far away eyes watching above the old crater, and the lake lap-lapped a faint whisper on its shore. ‘“‘Well, I don’t know, Honey; I can’t never forget how them Apaches got maw and little sister. Sis wasn’t only a ‘baby; I can see now how she used to catch her fingers in her bits of curls and shake her head at me when we were playing. They hadn’t left ary curl when we found her, and her little hands was all over red. That’s how-come I growed up on the trail’? ~~ Just behind the big black reef of lava that sheltered the wickiups a ragged back- bone of quartz cropped out through the lat er flow. Every scout and soldier was a prospector in those days, and many are the tales still told of ledges of wonderful richness discovered by scouting parties and hastily concealed till safer times made it possible to return and work them. With his own keen sight and a knowl- edge gathered from the miners, Jont had noticed the stringers of float even as he took shelter behind the ledge and fired on the flying Tontos. He managed to bring away a piece or two, and it was the glitter- ing dust in the horn-spoon, where he work- ed them down, that lured him back with his young bride to seek a fortune in the old Indian camp. The first sammer they lived under the pines, and Jont worked till he was lost to sight in a tunnel in the hillside. The girl wandered up and down, making friends with the deer and rabbits, and finding great thickets of thorny gooseberries torn down where the bear-mother fed her cubs. Wik the first snowfall they went back to the post, ’back to civilization,’’ as they called the cluster of adobe huts clinging like a little gray hawk to the sand hills under the shadow of Squaw Peak. The next year Jont built a tiny log cabin and went deeper into the ledge. Now and then he packed old Gray with ore-sacks, and leaving the girl and the rifle in the lonely valley, took Doll and went over the mountains to the post. ‘‘I saw the General himself this time, Sis,’’ he said, as she watched him unsaddle after the last trip. ‘‘He says you're the pluckiest woman in America. He wanted me to take old Victoria's trail, but I told him I was a married man now.”’ *Oh, Jont, how did he look? I'd like to gee him again! Maybe if—7" ‘Yes, Honey, we'll do it. He’s just the same old Crook; same old elouch hat and pepper-and-salt snit; same old smile, too. He knows; he looked mighty solemn, and made me promise to bring youn in the next trip, sure. That Denver expert says the ore’s all right. If it is your're going to have a silk dress the first thing, and a new honnet, and rings for every finger. ‘I want a dishpan more than I do a silk dress. Think of it! Here we’ve been keeping bouse ‘most two years, and noth- ing to wash dishes in but the frying-pan.”’ ‘It is pretty bad; but, anyway, Honey, there ain’t many to wash. and a dishpan is a mighty unhandy thing to lug in a hun- dred miles on a pack-horse. When wesell the mine we’ll go and live where dishpans grow, and a rose bush in the front. yard. Maw always, wanted one so bad. We'll get out of here next month anyway. The girl was singing as she raked down the coals on the hearth, and set the Dutch oven in a red nest of them, with another pile on the lid. : Jont was late, so late that she ran up the | path to the tunnel calling, for the black- berry pie would be spoiled. She peered into the entrance, blinded a moment by the sunlight outside. Somewhere hack of the darkness the very whisper of a moan reached her, and she hurried in. As her eyes grew used to the dusk she saw, block- ing the way, a great gray slide from the hanging wall, and under it, face forward, hands reached out as if to meet her, lay Jont, white and still. : She did not faint; she never thought of soreaming; but her face went white as his own, and her lips took the straight line they bad held that other day when a band of fleeing settlers sought refuge in a little way post, only to find it a charred ruin and its keeper prone on the red-stained sand. “My God! what shall we do?” cried a frightened woman, huddling her children in her arms. *‘Do?’’ said this white slip of a girl, bandling her carbine with a cool skill that sent one brown pursuer reeling from his horse. ‘‘Get under cover and fight,’ The line was still in her lips hours later when Jont lay swathed and bandaged in the Cabin. ‘‘Look at your hands, Honey,’ he said weakly, and all at once she saw that they were as bruised and torn as his own. The great October snow of 187 came lit- erally “like a thief in the night.”” The squirrels that heaped their snug tree-hol- lows with acorns, and rifled the pin on cones for nuts as early as August. may have known; the first warning to their human companions came when they woke one morning and found long, slender snow drifts across the floor; slowly rising as the powdery . flakes sifted through the cracks and whirled around the unchinked corners. Outside. the air was one white, palpitat- ing mass. The tall pinesstood up ghostly, with limbs bending and needles swept downward under deep cloaks of ermine. The two in the cabin looked at each other, each choking down the unnamed fear. ‘‘And today we were to start! Never mind,’’ said the girl bravely ; ‘‘we can go to morrow, and your leg will be stronger. To-morrow it was to-morrow still. Fast- er, and faster, as still and soft as down from the angel’s wings the white mass de- scended. It crept log by log up the cabin; it hemmed the lake in a strange white wall; and Doll and Gray huddled against the house with a dumb appeal for human companionship. Jont pulled himself oat on his erutches and cut bundles of quaking asp boughs for them to browse on, and soothed jthem with petting and the old words of the trail. Day after day they said ‘‘To-morrow.”’ and still the old crater seemed like a whirl- pool in an ocean of snow. The wind swept down and beat and drifted, and above its howling rose a tiny cry, sharp and keen, from the corner where the girl lay white as the snow that sifted in across her. Jont knelt in dumb agony beside her, fighting with naoskilled bands for the life ebbing so fast. ‘‘There, there,”’ she whis- pered. putting up a weak hand to touch his cheek; ‘‘you musn’t take on so; may- be it had to be. And I'd rather go from here where we’ve been so happy.” How long it was he never knew, but at last that small, insistent cry aroused him. He unclasped the stiffening fingers from his own, and drew the covers straight around her. She seemed smiling, like one in a happy dream. ; Doll came at his call, rubbing a soft nose against his arm, and peering curious- ly into the cabin as he smoothed the blank- ets and set the Jong unused side-saddle on her ‘back, thinking all the while of the girl, and how she stood up in it that first day with her haud on his shoulder. In the hollow of the saddle he made a nest of blankets folded over and over the now sleeping child, and lashed them fast. Then he saddled old Gray, and taking up the rifle went out and barred the door with- ‘out looking hack. At the foot of the trail he dropped Doll’s rein on her neck, and looked pleadingly into her dark eyes. ‘‘Doll,”’ he whispered ‘*you must do it.”’ He fancied she understood, for she bent her head smelling for the buried track, and set her foot as carefully as a mother bearing a sick child, while he crawled ahead up the trail, breaking a way and hacking the snow into steps with his hunt- ing knife. It ‘was long after taps of the second day that the guard, pacing his snowy beat in front of the commander’s quarters, saw a tired horse floundering up the river trail. “Who goes there?’’ he cried sharply. ‘‘A scout for Crook,’’ answered a voice from the darkness, so wild and hoarse that the men within, sitting late around the fire heard and hurried to the door. In the streaming light a frost-crusted “horse reeled up to the porch, and a gaunt figure, leaning forward, dropped a whim- pering bundle into ‘the arms of the Gray Chief himself. ‘‘A message for Crook,” he said, and tumbled headlong like a bar of lead into the snow.—Sharlot M. Hall in Everybody’s Magazine. Bostock the Animal King— Worthy Ex- hibit. Undoubtedly the greatest attraction of the entire Pan-American Exposition is that of the great Bostock Wild Animal Arena; it is truly one of the marvels of the twen- tieth century. The wonderful feats of wild animal subjugation shown there ire nothing short of miraculous. As one passes into the auditorium of the massive structure wherein nearly a thousand speci- mens of the denizens of forest and plain, jungle and mountain are caged, one im- agiues himself transported suddenly into a symposium consisting of every latitude of the world. Here he finds 1epresented every animal from the friendly dog and timid squirrel to the ferocious lion and man-eating tigar. Unlike most traveling menageries the animals in the Bostock Show are in perfect condition. No scrawny, ill-kept beasts are there. All are worthy representatives of their specie. Owing to a new and power- ful disinfectant used in the auditorium, no offensive odor, generally so noticeable where there is a collection of animals, is to be found. - Probably the most wonderful of the many wonderful performances given in the mas- sive steel arena (which by the way, is 70 feet in diameter) is that of Captain Bona- vita, who enters this steel-barred stage with 25 full-grown, forest bred, male Afri- can lions and puts them through a series of groupings aud feats that are awe-inspinng and thrilling to an extreme. This act is conceded by all who have been so fortunate as to see it, to he the acme of lion training —far superseding and surpassing anything of the kind ever hefore attempted. One notable feature about the Bostock show is that one price of admission admits the visitor to the entire exhibition. There are no after-charges, so annoying to the patrons of the Midway. Mr. Bostock is to he congratulated upon this ‘just’ ar- rangement. Pope Leo's Private Car. At Civita Vecchia, Italy, is stored a gor- geously gilded railway car which is the private property of Pope Leo. It was built nearly 50 years ago by his predecessor in the papal chair, and is one of the most re- markable railway cars in existence. Its roof is supported by the figures of three carved angels, covered with gold and silyer. Its copper dome bears a series of beautiful paintings by Gerome. ‘The interior of the car is divided into a series of rooms, the outer being for the reception of the papal guard. Behind it is the. throne room in which the pontiff sits while he blesses the crowds which throng about the car on its journeys. At least, that was the idea when the car was built. As a matter of fact, the pope has never made but one journey in his private car, going from Rome to Naples many years ago. Since that time the car has never been used, and thieves have cut from their frames many of the beautiful paintings which originally ornamented the car. At the rear of the throne room is the oratory, fitted with a beautiful altar and surmount- ed by a magnificent painting by Gerome. am————— — There is in lower California a strange colony of which the outside world rarely hears. It is made up of outlaws, and some of the most notorious escaped criminals have taken refuge in it. They live in a strange, rugged stretch of country, with the gulf of California on one side and a range of foothills which spread down to- ward the Mexican border on the other. There are ‘no ports at thie point on. the coast of California, and no railroads reach- ing in from the other direction, so the men are completely isolated. They are practic- ally prisouers, because they dare not ven- ture out, but no effort has heen made to distarb them in their chosen refuge, though they have heen congregating there for years. { Decrease in the Death Rate. Census Bulletin on the Mortality Statistics of the United States. The Census Bureau issued a bulletin to- day on the mortality statistics of the Unit- ed States for the census year 1900. The bulletin says that the effect of the advances made in medical science and sanitation and in the preventive and restrictive mea- sures enforced by the health authorities is strikingly shown in the comparative death rate for the registration cities of the coun- tries taken together. In 1890 the death rate in 271 registration cities of 5,000 or more population was 21 per 1,000; in 1900 the rate was 18.6 per 1,000 in 361 cities of 8,000 of population and upward, a reduc- tion of 2.4 per 1,000. The gross population of the cities comprehended was 14,958,254 in 1890, and 21,660,631 in 1900. The entire significance of these figures can be properly weighed,”” the bulletin says, ‘only when the rates for the individ- ual cities are considered in connection with known conditions of local improve- ment in sanitation and health regulations— factors which are not of a statistical nature and which were not developed by the in- quiries in the schedules. e decrease in the general death rate and in the rates due to diseases most frequent in the early years of life, on the one band, and the increase in the rates due to those diseases occurring generally at advanced ages, on the other, mean also increased longevity. The aver- age age at death in 1890 was 31.1 years; in 1900 it was 35.2 years. The total number of deaths in 1900 was 1,039,094, as compared with 841.419 in 1890 the increase being 197,675 or 23.5 per cent. As the percentage of increase in the population was but 20.7 per cent., this in- dicates a more complete return of deaths than in 1890. The gain in point of com- pleteness, the bulletin says, is really much greater than appears from the figures, be- cause the general death rate has decreased greatly. The number of deaths per 1,000 of popu- lation in the non-registration area was 11.1 in 1900 as compared with 10.5 in 1890, the increase in 1900 being due to a more com- plete retnrn of deaths, and not indicating any actual increase in the death rate. On the other hand, while the return of deaths in the registration area is also more com- plete than in 1890 there has been a remark- able decrease in the death rate, which de- clined from 19.6 per cent. per 1.000 in 1890 to 17.8 per cent. per 1,000 in 1900. When it is considered that the registration re- turns for 1900 are more complete than those at the last census in 1890, the decrease in the death rate in these are is regarded as most significant. There is a general belief that consump- tion causes more deaths in the United States than any other disease. This, how- ever, is not true. Pneumonia heads the list with 55.206 deaths in 1900 as compared with 36,752 in 1890, an increase in rate per 100,000 from 186.9 in 1890 to 191.9 in 1900. While the deaths reported as dueto consumption, including general tuberculosis increased from 102,19 in 1890 to 111,957 in 1900, the rate per 100,000 of population declined from 245.9 in 1890 to 190.5 in 1900, a most significant reduction, the re- port says, and traceable in large measures to advances made in medical science and sanitation and the preventive and restric- tive. measures enforced by the health an- thorities. The table shows an alarming increase in the number of deaths from kidney diseases, from 57.9 per 100,000 in 1890 to 83.7 in 1900, while the death rate per 100,000 |, for apoplexy increased from 49 in 1890 to 66.6 in 1900, and that for cancer from 47.9 in 1890 to 60 in 1900. The death rate per 100,000 from disease of the heart increased, as did the rate for diseases of the stomach, peritonitis, septa- caemia, diabetes and cerebro spinal fever, while the rates declined in the case of diar- rheal diseases, dehility and atrophy, in- flammation of the brain and meningitis, diphtheria, typhoid fever, dropsy and rheu- matism. The rate of deaths from infinenza increased from 6.2 per 100,000 in 1890 to 23.9 per 100,000 in 1900. There were 3,400 suicides in the registration districts in 1900 as compared with 2,027 in 1890 an increase in the rate per 100,000 from 10 3 to 11.8. The total number of suicides in the United States are given as 5,498, as compared with 3,493 in 1890, while 6,930 persons were killed in’ railroad accidents and 4,060 per- sons died from the effects of gunshot wounds. Woman’s Power Over Wild Beasts. The popularity of Bostock’s Trained Animal Show as a Midway attraction is accentuated with each day’s progress of the Pan-American exposition. As each succeeding day increases by thousands the attendance at the exposition, so is the crowd increased that continually surges around the attractive quarters of Bostock’s exhibition. Never was the glance of power in a woman’s eye so well illustrated as when Madam Morelli comes upon the en- caged stage with her ferocious leopards, panthers and jaguars all around her, watch- ing for an, opportunity to rend her in Pleuss, yet yielding unwilling obedience to er commands and showing the mastery of femininity over ferocity. There is some- thing - strangely fascinating about these ‘wild beasts trained by human skill and pa- tience to execute such marvelous and sur- prising feats, scenes that afford the specta- performance so kaleidoscopie as to make it ever new. It matters not how often seen, number of times the same persons find it seems to cast a spell over the spectators, and they are irresistibly drawn again and again to this arena of most exciting in- terest. Russia on the Eve of Famine, Russia is on the eve of another famine. Nearly a third of the provinces of European Russia are officially declared to have pro- duced ‘‘insufficient,’’ others ‘‘sufficient’’ and others still *“‘under the average’ crop of cereals. Only two provinces out of 70 bave really good harvests. The official “‘insufficient’’ means utter starvation. The famine-stricken area exceeds 500,000 square miles, and about the same area as that of numbers 43,000,000. The havoc has been wrought by the intense heat and entire ab- sence of rain when needed. Afterwards there were torrential down-pours and hail storms. 3 i The bumper crops of Siberia avail little, for Russia has no roads hut the railroads. Of the hundreds of thousands who perish- ed, directly or indireotly, from typhoid and other epidemics, induced by starva- tion, during previous famines, the great the railroads, and grain could not and can- not go to the starving Mujiks, though the streams take such guanties to the ports as to benefit the outer world. —- Suberibe for the WATCHMAN, tors moments of thrilling excitement, in a | and this ina measure accounts for the themselves at Bostock’s show. Once seen. the great famine of 1891. The population. majority were within 100 or 200 miles of Millionaire Strong’s Life, Rise of the Man who was Killed ina Gambling House. Samuel Strong, the millionaire mine owner, who was killed at Colorado Springs, Colo., while protecting his father-in-law from an attack by Grant Crumley, had a checkered career. It appears the killing occurred when Strong, who had won $140 at roulette, tried to induce his father-in- law to leave the table, which, had he suc- ceeded, would have ended the’ game, in which Crumley was a heavy loser. Crumley formerly drove a hack in Colo- rado Springs. He was once charged with holding up a mail train on the Florence & Cripple Creek road. Mr. Strong was about 42 years old. He came to Colorado Springs from Illinois in 1885, about which time his first wife, now living in Illinois, secured a divorce. The children from his first marriage, a son and a daughter, are students of Notre Dame university, in South Bend, Ind. Mr. Strong made his first strike in the Strong mine in Cripple Creek. He bonded the mine to Colorado Springs capitalists, now the Strong Mining company, in 1892. He was recently sued in the Arapahoe county court for $20,000 damages for blow- ing up the mine to depreciate the property so that it might revert to him from for- feiture of bond. The explosion occurred during the miners’ strike in 1893. Four men served terms in the penitentiary for the crime. Mr. Strong was acquitted after a hard fight. Mr. Strong was married in February, 1899, to Miss Regina Neville, of Altman. Just at the close of the ceremony an officer served papers for breach of promise suit, brought by Miss Vane, of Goldfield, the amount asked being $250,000. Nellie M. Lewis brought a similar suit for $200,000 damages. The first case was settled out of court. Miss Lewis was granted $50,000 at the trial in April, 1900. This sum will be paid out of the estate. Up to the time gold was discovered at Cripple Creek Strong was a clerk at §10 a week in a store. His fortune, which is now estimated at $10,000,000, will go to his young wife, a bride of a year. NOT PREMEDITATED MURDER. Cripple Creek, Colo., Ang. 24.—The cor- oner’s jury in the case of the Killing of Samuel Strong, the millionaire mine own- er, hy Grant Crumley, has rendered a ver- dict to the effect that the killing was with- out premeditation. Up Pike’s Peak in Auto. W. B. Felker and C. A. Yont of Denver recently climbed Pike's peak in an auto- mobile, says the New York Sun. The feat has been attempted several times, once by J. Brisben Walker, but this is the first time any one has reached the summit with a horseless carriage. The two men arrived at Manitou from Denver at night and started at daybreak for the top. The distance is 14 miles over the old cariiage road, which is little used and out of repair. The grades are not very difficult, but the road is cat by gullies and obstructed at frequent intervals by bowl- ders and fallen timber. Axes and shovels were brought into use many times during the day to make the road passable, but the travelers finally reached the summit just before the last train on the cog road started down at 3:30 o'clock. No accident was encountered, and the travelers reached Manitou on their return late the next night. Hobson Shoots an on Well. Captain Richmond P. Hobson, who is the guest of friends at Oil City, bad his first experience last week as an oil well shooter. This was the birthday of the heros of the Merrimac and to properly celebrate it Hobson and a party consisting of the Count and Countless von Larish and friends were invited to see the shooting of a well. A crowd of 800 people gathered to witness the event. The well had been drilled 800 feet and ashot of 70 quarts of nitro glycerine was lowered into the hole. The Captain was told that the distinction of dropping the ‘‘go-devil’’ would be given to him. This is a sharp pointed piece of iron which is dropped into the hole the concussion causing the nitro-glycerine to explode. The Captain dropped the iron and with a rush and roar the salt water gravel, oil and portions of the glycerine shells came out of the well and ascended 25 feet above the derrick. Joseph Manning, the owner, christened the well ‘‘Hobson.” Dog His Savior. Edward Horrigan, son of Martin Hor- rigan, of South Coventry, Conn., was gored and bruised by a two-year-old bull, and had not the boy’s dog gone to his rescue the boy would have been killed. The boy, accompanied by his dog, went to the pas- ture to drive the cows bome. The bull was lcose ip the lot, and attacked the lad, who was knocked down and tramped on. The bull then drove its horns into the boy, whose flesh was a mass of bruises. His dog attacked the bull, and finally succeeded in driving it away. The dog was torn by the animal’s horns, and the bull showed marks of the dog's teeth. After the dog had driven the bull away it returned to its young master, and when the boy regained consciousness the dog was licking his face. ——A unique personal charity was found- ed fifteen years ago by Colonel Benton K. Jamison, the Philadelphia banker. Be- lieving that it was the duty -of every: rich man to provide for hisindigens relatives he decided to establish a home for the main- tenance of all the members of the Jamison family who should be in need of its shelter. He bought a 300 acre farm at Saltsburg, Pa., and signed a deed to the property in perpetuity to himself and two other mem- bers of his family, as trustees, for the pur- poses of a charitable home. ~The agricul- tural resources of the land have fully maintained it. About a week ago two rich veins of bituminous coal were discovered underlying the whole area of the farm. It is estimated that there are 6,000 tons to the acre. A curious phase of the discovery is that neither Col. Jamison nor his heirs can ever enjoy the possession of this little for- tune beneath the soil. Under the terms of the trust deed, the home is to be maintain- ed for all time, and whatever is in the soil or beneath it belongs to the home in fee simple, with no possibility of its founder or its inmates exercising proprietary rights. There are - now ten members of the Jami- son family in the home. ——+'*John,’? said Mrs. Billus, alter the caller had gone away, ‘‘I wish you wouldn’t bunch your blunders so.”’ “What do you mean, Maria?'" asked Mr. Billus. : : ; “J didn’t mind your telling that youn were ten years older than I, but you fol- lowed it up.a.minute later by letting it slip out that you were 52.7’—Chicago Tvi- bune. 3 Hatched By the Sun. Ninty Chickens in a Crate That Should Have Had ggs. ; 01d Sol and his son, General Humidity, have played some queer pranks of late, but they outdid themselves when they went in- to the incubator business the other day. As a consequence some rapacious egg buyer down in Illinois is out about thirty dozen eggs, and a Chicage commission firm is ahead just ninety one chickens, which in course of time will turn out to be first class broilers at more per pound than they were worth per dozen in the immature state in which they left their Illinois home. To be specific, Marggraf & Sutter, com- mission merchants handling eggs and poul- try at 13 Fulton market, received from some of their buyers at Gifford, Ill, Sat- urday night several cases of eggs. They arrived late Saturday afternoon and were not opened. When the commission house was opened Monday morning, the clerk was greeted by a chorus of ‘‘Peep, pee-ep, peep, peep.’ He rubbed his eyes and star- ed about him. Another chorus of wails directed his attention to the cases that had come on Saturday. He lifted the top one off the pile and stared into the face of a fluffy chick, that, more adventurous or more curious than the others, had put its head out through the slats of the case to investigate matters. Then the clerk open- ed the Saturday consignment and found ninty-one live young chicks, several more dead ones and several eggs that were very much passe, where there should have been thirty dozen good fresh eggs. : The theory of Mr. Marggraf is that the eggs were taken up by the buyer in his trip and that the rapacity of that gentleman or the avarice of some farmer led to the loot- ing of setting hen’s nest; that the eggs, already nearly matured, were neatly finish- ed up by thesun during the trip to Chi- cago. : The ninty one survivors have been sent out to Oak park, where they were placed in a brooder to stay until they are strong enough to take care of themselves. Has a Cure for Epilepsy. Illinois Professor Says a Parasite Causes it—8uccess in Fighting It. Prof. George H. French, of the State Normal University, of Carbondale, Ill., an- nounced over a year ago the discovery of a parasite which caused epilepsy. The an- nouncement was generally discredited among medical men and remained so until several demonstrations proved the possibil- ity of his theory. Cases were brought to the Professor’s ‘attention from all parts of the United States. A Miss Crane, of Tam- ara, sister of an alumnus of the school, be- gan a course of treatment under the Prof- essor’s direction, and is now nearly cured, so much so that a return of the disease is not considered probable. She had been af- flicted for over thirteen years, and had long since been pronounced by medical men as beyond cure. Prof. French is rapidly de- veloping his treatment, and when complet- ed will give his discovery to the world. He is known as an author on zoology. and is a member of several foreign seientific societies. Bridesmaids Pallbearers. Attend the Funeral of their Girl Friend Instead of the Announced Wedding. Six young girls who would have been Lizzie Anderson’s bridesmaids on Wednes- day served as pallbearers at her funeral at the residence No; 2740 North Second street, Philadelphia. These girls wore the white dresses they were to have worn at the wed- ding. E The dead girl was to have been married to Jacob Anthony in afew days. With him she was spending a short vacation at Atlantic City, but on Sunday shedied from heart disease. All the girls from the mill where she had been employed filed through the little house for a look at the dead girl, and as they moved a delegation from the Daughters of America softly sang. Then the white robed pallbearers carried the cof- fin to the Puritan Presbyterian church, at Second and Clearfield streets, where there was a brief but impressive service. Bullets Flew in Court. Three of Four Men Wounded Are Likely To Die. A shooting affray occurred at Reynolds, Miss., on Wednesday afternoon, in which four men were wounded, three of them fatally. Otto Johnson was being tried before Justice Shelby and Warner on a charge of seduction. The evidence was all in and the justices had retired to make np their verdict. ‘More than 100 men were present in the room. Suddenly ashot was fired, supposedly at Otto Johnson. Instantly other shots were fired, fully 50 in all, and when the smoke cleared away Otto John- son had’ three bullets through his body, “Len’’ Smith, who testified against John- son, one through the breast, J. W. Daw- son one through the breast and the father of ‘‘Len’’ Smith one through the arm. All the men are farmers. Insect's Bite Caused Woman’s Death. The bite of an unseen insect cansed the death of Miss Catherine A. Rambo, who died Thursday on North Washington St., Baltimore. Blood poisoning was the im- mediate cause of death. The insect bit Miss Rambo on the lip on Thursday of last. week. She did not see it, and there is no clue whatever as to its species. The physicians could venture no opinion of the unknown insect. Her Mania. Hempstead (sympathetically) —Moving ? I thought you were entirely pleased with the house you were living in ? inl Meadowbrook (miserably) —Well, my wife has accumulated so many empty tin cracker boxes, grape baskets and pickle bottles ‘‘that may come in handy some day,’’ that we didn’t have room in the last house. ; m—————————————— Great Good Luck. “I tell ye that was a lucky wet spell we jest had,?” remarked Farmer Medders. - “I should say 'twus lucky,’’ replied the oldest inhabitant. ‘It wuz the fust one fur years that didn’t start up my rheama- tics.”’ The Sandpaper Tree. ; : The sandpaper tree grows in the forests of Uganda, and has leaves which for their roughness resembles a cat's tongue. This rasping quality is very useful, as the na- tives employ the leaves in polishing their clubs and spear handles. —— Hath any wronged thee ? Be brave- ly revenged. Slight it and the labor’s he- gun. ‘Forgive it and ’$is finished. He is below himself that is not above an injury.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers