BY P. GRAY MEEK. May all the paths you ever tread Be like the holly—green, And lighted up with friendly smiles Like holly’s burnished sheen ; May all the thoughts you ever have Re like the mistletoe, Bedecked with jewels and all your deeds, Pure as the Christmas snow ; Yule logs of love burn in your heart With rosy warmth and cheer, And care—well, may she come at most, Like Christmas, once a year. ————— TOUCHED. Mr. Charles Henry Lothrop was the youngest telegraph operator in the Union office at Troy. So far as he knew, he had not a living relative in the world. There was no one to object to the way 10 which he spent his pay. or to give him advice up- en how he should conduct himself in the eyes of the world. So he spent his money in carrying out his own particular ambi- tion. His heart's desire was to be ‘‘styl- ish;”’ his hobby was ‘‘sport.”’ He used to wear cheap shirts that astonished his fel- low-operators. They would exelaim, “Whew !”’ and “Um-um !” when he took off his coat. Such shirts ! Pink, and blue and purple. He always wore rainbow neckties with a very imitation diamond pin thrust sideways through the corner. No one could excel him in the gaudiness of the ribbon that adorned his straw hat in the summer time, and no one could quite get the angle at which he used to wear his plum-colored derby in the winter. His sil- ver watch bad a fine gold-plated chain with a huge agate charm. Whenever he had a half-holiday he used to go to the trotting-track and walk around with a straw in his month. He knew half a Qoz- en drivers and some stable men who allow-, ed him to call them by their first names. He talked learnedly of records, sires and | dams, and would make believe to take the | time of the heats with an air of anxiety. If he had had anything to do with the fi-' nancial part of the office his habits and hab- jliments might have excited his employ- ers’ suspicions. He had little part, how- ever, with the crowd that shoved their money over: Schultz's bar on pay-day nights, and he was regarded as rather close, for what money he lavished he lav- jshed on himself. They called him a *‘pa- per sport’’ behind his back. He had one vice that his companions had no part in, however—he was a systematic gambler on a very small scale. Every month he in- vested three dollars in Policy—never more, never less. He had a ‘Dream Book’' aud read it couscientiously. Two or threz times he nearly caught a number. He knew three or four places where slips in | . V/ 2 7 BELLEFONTE, PA.. STATE RIGHTS AND DECEMBER FEDERAL UNION. % 0.1901. NO. 50. That was it ! He would have oe fling in the properest, fastest way, if i. cost him every penny in the world ! He had never been to the metropolis in the whole course of his life, but he had dreamed of it time and again. It had tempted him more than once, and now go he would. Monday saw him at the station. He had forgotten to buy a traveling bag, so three extra-garish shirts and a few personal be- longings he had tied up in a neat brown paper parcel. His caution, however, as- serted itself when he bought a ticket; for he purchased it both ways and slipped a two-dollar bill into the envelope. Tie rest of the money be pinned inside his waistcoat pocket. That he was determined to “blow,” although he rather doubted in his heart of hearts his ability to get away with it. He placed the bundle beneath his seat and sat in the smoking-compartment puffing away at a black cigar with a red and gold surcingle. There was no one else in the car with a silk hat on that he could see, and he felt quite distinguished. Two young chaps a seat or two ahead turn- ed around and looked at him. “The hride must be back in the other car,” said one, and then both chuckled. But Mr. Lothrop, unconscious of his wed- ding-day appearance, smoked serenely on. Twice hedeclined an invitation to join in a game of whist, and he moved his seat becanse a drunken man with a clay pipe, insisted on brushing imaginary dust from his coat sleeve, and winking at the other passengers. He was trying to persuade himself that he was having a very good time. The presence of the brown paper parcel irritated him. He would get rid of .that, and he would have his initials put on the bag, too. It was two days before Christmas, but there was no snow on the ground. The sunshine was warm outside, and the blue, sweeping Hudson. upon which he looked out, was free fiom ice. He was rather glad it was warm weather, for the gray overcoat was a bit ‘‘springy,’”’ to tell the truth. Suddenly the tiain roared through a deep rock-cut. The engine at the same time began a series of sharp staccato whis- tles, and then, as the train emerged into the sunlight beyond, the brakes were put on with a quick, grinding jar. The train banded up the bank and placed on the floor of the baggage-car. Lothrop stood on the shelving, sandy bank. To save his life he could not take his eyes off the crushed Noah’s Ark,and the little bobbing wooden animals davcing in the water For some reason he bent and gathered them. A small and very naked doll with a china head he discovered also, and picked it up with the rest. Just as the train was moving be hurried up and placed the things he had found in the bag- gage-car. No one seemed to see anything strange in his actions. The baggage-man pointed to the broken toys and shook his head sadly. Somebody said something about ‘Christmas’’ and the train started. It was too late for Lothrop to run forward and regain his seat in the smoking car sohe swung on to the platform and the baggage- man let him enter. “Who do you suppose the poor fellow is 2’? asked one of the train hands. “I don’t know,’’ responded the other. “Philips said he’d put it off at the next station; Lie probably belongs there.” **He’s a dago, I think,” interrupted the baggage-man. Mr. Lothrop did not join in the conver- sation. A sensation he had never felt be- fore was swelling up within him. He bad forgotten about himself. The suggestion of the Christmas season, and the poor little Christmas gifts, had caused thoughts that were new and paralyzing. His sentiments and imaginations had been aroused. His pity was so great that it was so overpower- ing as the first awakening of a passion. He conld think of nothing else but the fact that somewhere somebody was waiting for the man that had been, whose earthly part lay covered with the bit of rough sacking on the floor of the car. The train slowed up at the next station. ! There was a hurried consultation between ! the station-master and the zonductor and the body was lifted out and placed on a | baggage-truck. When the train started | Mr. Lothrop stood on the platform. Why he stayed he could not have explained. He had not been able vet to get the idea of the | waiting ones out of his mind—those people | who lived somewhere and did not know. : It seemed to him as if something were di- recting him to stay and try to help. He did not combat this feeling, he did not rea- son about it; he simply stayed. CHRISTY BY HOFMAN Kelly, the driver of the carryall, once more made the trip over the hill. Tony, a little wizened- Italian, descended with Mr. Lothrop in front of the undertaker’s establishment. One glance at the dead man’s face and he turned quickly. “I know him; he gooda man; wifa an’ fora children,’’ and then, strange to say, Tony did what no one else had done so far —he began to cry. It was what Mr. Loth- rop had felt like doing for the last four hours— but he hadn’t. He turned to the undertaker: J “Now you understand,” he said; “a bang-up funeral.” The man looked at him curiously. “Cer- tainly, sir,” he responded. Mr. Lothrop counted over five twenty dollar bills. Then he turned to Tony: “For the wife and children,’’ he said. He put a small toll in the Italian’s horny hand. Then he walked to the station. A train bound up the line was coming in. Mr. Lothrop boarded it and settled himself in the seat. As he passed the spot where the morning’s accident had taken place he closed his eyes. The next day he was at bis desk again with his instrument ticking before him. +I thought you were going to New York, Hen,” said one of his fellow-operators, and was going to have a big blow-out.”’ Lothrop did not reply. Another operator spoke to the first one in a low voice. “I'll bet I know how it was,” he said, ‘‘he found it costing too much to see the town.” **Nay,’’ responded the first, ‘‘I’ll bet somebody touched him on the train for his pile before he got there.”’ “Maybe you're right,’’ said the other operator. ‘I always said if he was work- { ed right he’d be easy game.,’ But Mr. Lothrop’s face told nothing, al- though it had a new expression on it that his fellows conld not understand. “He’s taking life serious,’’ said the first speaker. And that was just it. —By James Barnes | in The Saturday Evening Post. A New Version. The modern Christmas hymn—*The Sweet Buy and Buy.” whock, whoo—this is the way to hall sole a shoe!” Then when winter got here and Jack Frost come creeping, come creeping, there was new goings-on. Finally Christ- mas hove in sight, and the girl got more excited than ever. Called auother moth- er’s meeting, and we fathers was on haud. The girl made another speech, Christmas was coming. Didn’t we know the little song about Christmas? And wot it said about Sandy Claus? Though Sandy Claus was a miff, wot a bootiful miff! It was well that the little ones should believe in such miffs as long as they could! Alas! the stern realities of life. would confront ’em but too soon ! Let us make the Christ- mas of the little ones of the kindling-garter a glad one. (Applause). Do we not want to live for our children ? (A voice: ‘You bet !') The song told especially of Sandy Claus’s reindeers, and the children were much interested in the reindeers. Wot fond parent would volunteer to show the chil- dren a team of reindeers? “I sprung to my feet while the other pa- vents was leaning for’ard to rise, and says I: ‘Miss, if we can find a pair of reindeers in Bon Pierre County,or even one reindeer, or half a reindeer, or a critter that looks like a reindeer, I’ll drive him for the chil- dren.’ ‘Thank you,’ says the girl, smil- ing at me; and if she'd ‘a asked me to drive two lions tandem, with a hyener under the seat, I'd ’a’ done it. ‘And you are on the right track, Mr. Bush,’ she goes on; ‘there are, of course, no reindeers here. We must stimulate some reindeers, Mr. Bush.’ ‘Wot ?’ says I, thumbkin behind my ear, letting on I hadn’t heard. ‘We must stimulate some reindeers—counterfeit ‘em, you know. Get some other likely critters and fasten some horns on ’em, and make ‘em look like reindeers.” Well, we all talked the matter over, and decided that the best we could do was to takea couple of mooley steers belonging to Zeb Wood- beck, and tie some horns on em, hitch ‘em to a light sleigh, and let em sizzle, with me a-holding the reins, and mebby calling cheerily : ‘On, Prancer ! Whoa, Dancer !’ ‘“‘Well, there ain’t much more to tell. I done it. ’Bount four o’clock in the after- noon, so’s the little ones could go home and get to bed early. The plan was to have the children in front of the schaol- house, and I was to dash around the corner and swing around the house a couple or Spawls from the Keystone. —James Stephens was struck by a loco- motive at Johnstown, Monday night, and killed. He was 35 years old and leaves a wife and six children. —Rumors are in circulation that certain men are working hard to have an immense manufacturing plant to locate at Oak Grove. The industry employes 4,000 hands. * —T. B. Conard, who resided in York, and tanght school in Springersbury township, was killed by a Frederick division train while walking on the railroad Tuesday morning. —At McDonald’s camp, near Falls Creek, Clearfield county, recently, a pine tree was cut that scaled 9,610 feet. Thd average tree scales about 750. This tree was cut into nine logs. —George Cooper, aged 72 years, of Dan- ville,was taken to the Williamsport hospital, Monday, with his hands and feet frozen. Cooper started to walk from Milton to Mont- gomery, but lost his way and was compelled to spend the night on the mountains. —Some weeks ago was published the hor- rifying particulars of an accident which hap- pened to Mrs. Georgé Overdorff, a young woman residing in Blacklick township, In- diana county. She was drawn into a fodder cutter and terribly injured. After lingering for many days, sometimes giving promise of recovery, she died on Sunday morning last. She was 28 years of age. - —Attorney Frank Hutton, at DuBois, dis- covered a negro in his room on Friday morn- ing. He followed the man into the hall where the burglar fired at Mr. Hutton. The ball imbedded itself in the wall above Mr. Hut- ton’s head. Hutton then jumped for the man and wrenched the revolver from his hand. Mrs, Hutton during the scuffle summoned as- sistance. The burglar was overpowered and imprisoned. —For calling a fellow workman a ‘“‘scab,’” Harry Myers, a union molder, was sentenced to pay the costs in a surety of the peace case, tefore Judge Bittenger at York, yesterday. “Laber unions,” the judge said, ‘have a right to fix wages and: to demand them, but they cannot fix the wages for other workmen who choose to work for what they please. When a man calls another a scab, and his case comes into this court, he will be put un- der bonds and ordered to pay the costs.” —William H. Taylor.a grocer of Allentown, will test the constitutionality of the recently enacted law which prohibits the sale of game. Mr. Taylor last week had shipped to him from a State where the sale is not forbidden fitteen quail, which he hung out in front of his store. Two of them were quickly sold. Coustable Keller scon after caused Mr. Tay- lor’s arrest, charging him with violating the game laws. The hearing will take place next Qaturday afternoon. Mr. Taylor will test the constitutionality of the law if alderman Fry decides the case against him. the great unlicensed secret lottery were sold. The dooikeeper at the opera house was familiar with young Mr. Lothrop’s face— he had seen him standing at the stage en- trance many a time. Bat he had never known him to speak to any of the ehorus girls. He liked to be there, that was all, to watch them come out. But the land- lady from whom he rented his little ball bedroom could scarcely move about the eight-by-ten apartment without disarrang- ing his gallery of photographs. Although he never indulged in athletics, pugilists shared the walls with the sirens of the foot lights. He was quite an authority on fis- tiana. Now, one day Mr. Lothrop struck it rich. His “gig” hiv a divisional number in Policy—it was the *‘potato gig,’ 7-348. The man from whom he bought his slips in , the back of the cigar store greeted him with a smile. ‘You caught it this time, young fellow,” he said, and Mr. Lothrop flushed red and his breath went from him. But the man was right; he had caught it for ounce. Hurrying to his lodgings he counted out on the bed two hundred and sixty dollars in crumpled greenbacks. He bad long had his eyes on a gray over- coat with a brown velvet collar. Visions of a silk hat and a ‘‘Prince Albert’”’ coat made him shudder with delight. His ideas of good taste in dress had been gath- ered from the costumes of the heroes in ‘‘gociety’’ plays. The next thing he adorned himself in his new ready-made apparel before the lit- tle looking-glass in his room, and then sat down to think. © It seemed almost a cruel waste to wear these things in Troy. True, he might go down to Albany and walk atound on Sun- day, as he had often done before (rather disturbed in his mind as to whether the smiles that he had canght were those of ap- preciation or amusement;) but that would be tame employment for such effulgence. He searched in the top bureau drawer and under a tangle of gaudy necktiesdrew forth the roll of bills and counted them. There werestill one hundred and eighty-five dol- lars left. With a bound of his heart he re- membered that the chief clerk had told him that he could take his week’s vacation, be- ginning the following Monday, if hie chose. ran a few hundred yards and stopped. People opened windows and ran to the platforms. The fireman came trotting back aud the conductor hailed him. **What’s up Billy ?"" ‘We hit him just as we left the cat; he was walking right down the middle.” What's the matter ?’’ asked one of the passengers. “Killed a man,” said the conductor la- conically. ‘'At least, I guess so.” The train was backing now up the track and the brakeman on the rear car could be seen running ahead with his little red flag. He did not look to the left or right, and disappeared iu the ent. Mr. Lothrop, who was standing on the platform, felt sickish. The train ran along slowly and smoothly, and the river lapped in within a few feet of the embankment. Suddenly the brakes were applied again and the train stopped. Some people went farther up the track and, much against his first inclination, Mr Loth- rop descended from the platform to the ground. He could see nothing but the lit- tle crowd gathered along the side of the cars and the inquisitive heads from the windows. He walked to the river hank— only a pace or two—and there he paused and gasped. On a little strip of sandy beach lay the body of a man, dead! He was big and young, and his face was unrcarred. Ani- mated by some impulse, Mr. Lothrop gave a shout and jumped down beside him, and then he gasped again with a peculiar little | ory. Floating in the water beside the dead man was a child’s Noah’s Ark, the camels and leopards and rabbits dancing in the little waves that broke upon the beach. Aun empty cornucopia extended from the breast- pocket of the man’s coat. But the crowd had now gathered on the embank- ment overhead. “Come, bear a hand here, some of you,’’ cried the conductor, whe had jumped down and hens for a second over the body. “We've got to put him in the baggage-car. Help me; he wou’t hurt you! What are you afraid of ?"’ But no one moved. **Here, young man, you give us a lift.” The conductor was addressing Mr. Loth- rop. He felt his head swimming, but he would have obeyed had not, just at this .. “New York!” The word flashed be- "fore him like a hoge starred headline. ak moment, the fireman and one of the brake- wen hurried up to help. The body was ‘1e,”” said the station-master. The Coroner convened his little court in the baggage-room. A crowd of curious lounger< had come to the station and the jury was picked from among them. Mr. Lothrop stood in the corner of the room. He had 1.06 looked at the dead man since he had first seen him. The toys were not brought in evidence. There seemed to be nothing but idle curiosity amoung the on- lookers; the verdict was prosaic. Nobody knew the man. “Unknown man, killed on railway track,’’ pronounced the Coroner. But why was he unknown ? Surely some- body was waiting. Somebody must know him. Somebody wounld miss him. Some- hody would never be told what had become of him. Lothrop spoke to the station-mas- ter. ‘*Aren’t they going to find out who he is?” “Don’t think they’ll take much troub- “They may, but them things happen every day.” ‘‘Aren’t they going to try to find out who he is!” ‘My opinion,’’ returned the station mas- ter, **he’s one of the Guineas workin’ over to the aquaduck.”’ ‘“Where's that,’’ inquired Mr. Lothrop. ‘“‘About five miles across the hills.” Then the station-master’s face lit up with an expression of. understanding. ‘I know what you are now,”’ he said smiling: ‘‘you’re a reporter. Going to make a story of this, hey! You should bave been here , last week. There was a fellow killed up | by the quarry who had lots of papers on him proving that he was an anarchist.” | ‘‘Could I get a rig to drive over to the aqueduct ?'’ asked Mr. Lothrop. i “Why, certaiuly; Kelly'll take you over. Here he comes now—that fellow driving the white horse and the carryall.” 2 The foreman at the works listened to Mr. Lothrop’s story. He was an Irish- mau. | “‘Sure, I couldn’t tell whether he’s one of our men, or not,” he said. ‘‘But there ie a lot of them living with their families | up in the shanties near the woods. I'll, bave Tony go over with you. He speaks | English. Where is the body ?”’ | “I got an undertaker over in the town Lo i to look out for it,”’ responded Mr. Loth- | with enthusiasm. TOP. know what became of him.” h “I just wanted to——'' he: paused | tl ontinued: ‘‘th y : aud Leh Sonny e wan'y folks to | or soniewheres. ‘Ticky, tick, tack; tocky, onnna mla MR. BUSH as SANDY CLAUS. ‘‘She hailed from around Boston some wheres, and she came out here and started ' the steers trotting off presty free, and the one of these ’ere kindling-garters,’’ said Mr. Milo Bash. ‘‘Roped in all the small children in town aud begun to learn em to string straws and map out beans, and wad wet ciay and. such other: practical tlrings which would be useful to ’em when they growed up. Showed ’'em that they had thumbkins, and told ’em ’hout Jack Frost, and the Old Man East Wind, and Uncle Feeble ; and had ’em singing ‘Hoppery, skippery, lop, flop. pop—summer’s the time to whop, whop,whop !’ Well,itseemed to be a good thing, though I don’t reckon our folks would a took much stock in it if it hadn’t been for the girl herself. That there girl was the prettiest girl that ever struck the country. Such eyes asshe bad! And that mouth of hers !—well, I b'lieve if it eould a’ been done, that every man in town would a’ bad himself reduced to eighteen inches high and gone to school to her, and strubg his straw, and wadded his gob of clay with thumbkins. ‘She was the most enthusiastic girl—and the prettiest ! She just kept us parents on the jump. Doing what, do youn think? Living for our children! That was all, but it kept us busy. She used to call ‘parents’ meetings, and make little speeches. ‘Come, let us live for our children,’ she would say. It was Uncle Feeble’s igee, she explained. So that’s wot we done— just lived for ’em. Rekerations of the past was abandoned, such as hoss-trote. Old Major Sudley killed his game-cock, and had him for Sunday dinner, though ‘the Major said afterwards that the next old fighting rooster he et he would doit ona week-day, as the remarks necessary in carving the j’'ints wa’n’t no fit language for the Sabbath. ‘Well, as I said, the girl was b’iling Every week she took the young uns on a picnic, or round to see a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a cobbler crawl through a hole in the back end of the building, and pop out behind the stove as the children comein the door, all frosty, and with flowing whiskers, and wearing pilleis under my clothes, and with my nose red. It took a pile of fixing up, ‘and | when they got throngh with me my nose was | the only thing which I could recognize as | my own. Then I got in the sleigh down | by the livery barn, and drove up around, | threee times, and then leave the sleigh and bells on ’em ringing lively. Then I swung ’em round the corner, and, says I: | ‘On, Prancer ! On, Daucer !" and the chil- | dren clapped their hands, and the others | begun to yell’ and somehow it excited ‘ them critters, and they hopped up in- to the air, and yanked round their beads. { and their horus fetched loose and tipped "back and took 'em on the shoulders, and | Dancer let out an awful B-a-a-a-r!’ and i let out down the main street like a bloo “streak, me a-sawing -on the reins and a- i velling ‘The Night Before Christnias’ at . ’em in chunks. As we tore through town, ' both reindeers b-a-a-a-r-ing and Kicking, the bells a-ringing every dog in town close behind making use of their own language, and my own voice not idle, we was said to a’ presented a impressive spectacle. We tore on. After passing over six miles of prebayrie in a few minutes, I was throwed ous by the sleigh striking a rock. Them reindeers went on. My knee was fractur- ed, and I started to crawl back the six miles, singing cheerily, ‘Clap clap with glee for Christmas is coming and merry are we ! My whiskers impeded my crawl a good deal by getting under my knees, but I reached the house of a settler about dark. “Didn’t you go hy here a spell ago sort as if you was in a kind of a hurry?’’ says he. “No. says I, ‘that was Sandy Claus.”’ “It looked like you,’’ says he. “ ‘We are one and the same,, says I; ‘e pluribus unum. I was stimulating Sandy . Claus. Bring in some snow and thaw out ' my left earkin.”’ “See yere, old man,’’ says be; ‘‘before I stir a step tell me wot in all creation you are making such a Tom-twisted fool of your self for.” “I am living for a Boston kindling gar- ter teacher,’’ says I; fetch in that snow!" BC RR | —The combined store room and residence of Isaac Michaels, at Belsena, Cambria coun- | ty, were burned to the ground Saturday morning with a loss of about $4,000 on which there was an insurance of $1,000. 1 ] —Robbers entered the residence of J. J. Morrow, Huntingdon, on Friday night of last week and appropriated abont $28 fi mon- i ev: They were about to taken $50. gold . watch when he was aroused by some one reaching under his pillow. This frightened the robbers and in their haste to escape they dropped a pair of shoes. two coats and a pocket book, which contained about $4. —Myrs. Della Graham Irvin, of Carwens- ville, wife of Col. E. A. Irvin, of that place, and one of Clearfield - county’s most distin- guished citizens, died at a Philadelphia hotel Wednesday morning of typhoid pneumonia, after an illness of but a few days. Mrs. Ir- vin was well known in Bellefonte and the news of her death, received here Thursday, created profound feeling of surprise and re- gret. ; ; —On or about Monday, November 25, 1901, . George Maxwell, whose home is in West Houtzdale, mysteriously disappeared, and no word as to his whereabouts has been received up to the present time. Mr. Maxwell is a man aged about 60 years, smooth face ; sandy hair; wore a dark undercoat and vest, dark trousers and overcoat. He is a man abouts feet 8 inches tall,and stooped shoulders. Any information as to his whereabouts will be gratefully received by his wife, Mrs. George Maxwell, Houtzdale, Pa. —Eli Hartman, an aged inmate of he Blair county home was found in a stable on Sun day afternoon with his skull fractured, hav- | ing evidently liven kicked by one of the horses. When discovered he was leaning against a horse, unconscious. He had two lacerations on tli: =ealp, where the calks of the hoise’s shoe lid penetrated. One hole extended through the skull, Hartman had bien at the institution about four months and had formerly followed the occupation of a cab driver in Altoona. IIe was employed at the county farm asa hostler. He was re- moved to the hospital ward, whare he now lies in a critical condition.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers