Bellefonte, Pa., March 2I, 1902 MOTHER DIED TONIGHT. ““Your mother died tonight—that’s all it said ; But, somehow, in that simple line 1 read The last sad words of love and sympathy, The last heart blessing that she gave me, The admonitions that all went amiss, And what God ne'er can give—her farewell kiss; The fadeless picture as she knelt to pray That she might meet me up abcve—some doy. “Your mother died tonight,” is-all it aid, As on the throbbing wire the tidings sped From that old, happy home; from which I came, To strive anew for honor and for fame. To moil with will to win a golden store To lay in solemn suppliance at her door ; But shattered are the hopes, unnerved the might, By that sad message, “Mother died tonight.” O stars that glide through heaven’s unfathomed sea, May I not meet her in Aleyone ? Oh, let me know, as oft in childhood's harms, That peace found only nestling in her arms! Gone the gray hair, the eyes that wept in vain, Gone the sad smile, I ne’er shall see again, Gone the true heart, the soft, love laden breast, Gone the one mother, to her last long rest. —Robert Mackay in Success. MY TATTOOED FR1END. His name was Ezra Martin, and undoubt- edly he was a pirate. When he was away and I thought of him suddenly, little cold creepies went all up and down my back, and when he came home and held out his hand to me, something jumped quick right up from my side into my throat, he fright- ened me so—ever so much hetter than ghost stories. The strange thing was that in that house- ful of grown-ups, no one else seemed to know that he was a pirate. Of course, at that time he was an engineer on the Lake Shore Railroad, but he had heen a saiior and had sailed clear round the whole world, and had crossed somebody’s line, and doubled capes, and had killed whales that have corset bonesand lamp oil in them,and throw harpoons, and dragged anchors, aud had seen monkeys without hand organs and parrots that knew nothing about crackers, flying about quite wild in real woods. And he was swarthy dark, with black hair and black, black little eyes that always had a - tiny red spark in them, and he wore gold earrings—pirates always do that, always! And his beard ? Oh ! Captain Kidd in my pieture book had quite a common, honest- looking heard compared with Ezra’s great bushy, wicked looking one. And he hada long scar across his forehead, and he never wore a white skirt or an overcoat. He al- ways wore dark blue clothes. His trousers were very tight at the knees and very wide at the foot, and he seemed to have a lot of tronble to keep them from falling off, ‘cause he was hitching them up nearly every time that he moved. He wore blue flannel shirts and in winter a thing he call- ed a ‘‘pilot-jacket,’”’ and he carried a knife in a leather sheath, and the knife had spots on the blade—ugh ! Of course, he was very brave—pirates have to be, but anyway I heard one of the boarders say Ezra was the bravest man he ever saw, because he dated to call the land- lady ‘‘mother,’’ right to her very face. She wasn’t his mother—she wasn’t anybody’s mother, which was a good thing for some- body. She just married old Mr. Martin, and he died very soon ; then when she was Ezra’s stepmother, Ezra turned pirate. I was afraid of her. I slept in a trundle- bed in her room, and she came apart so. She put her hair on the -bedpost and her teeth in a glass. I always covered up my head then for fear she might do something to her eyes—lay them out on the mantle- piece perhaps, wnich would have seared me to death. Ezra told me not to be afraid of her, when she raved aud scolded so. He said she was all right, only I mustn’t rub her the wrong way. And when, on my word of honor, Iassared him I had never, never rubbed her any way at all, he roared with laughter and slapped his leg and ‘‘shivered his timbers," as pirates do. Bat besides being an engineer and pirate, he was a living picture gallery. Yes, just that. Every other Sunday,” he was my panorama. He would turned slowly about showing me all the lovely pictures pricked on his chest and shoulders and back and arms in blue and red and green inks. And be’d explain himself as he turned. And. we were so sorry, both of us, that he could not show me a lovely pair of turtles he had, but his trousers were too tight at the knee, and that was right where they were. Tne first time he held out his hand to me and Isaw a great scaly dragon on i, blowing red ink venom up his sleeve, I knew he was a pirate. Not because of the ink—Ilots of people wear dots and stars and things—hut because of the dragon. My pi- rate was lovely up his bagk, particnlarly where the lady with the tiny waist and flounced skirt waved the flag on his left shoulder, but I liked better the big eagle on his right shoulder—which Ezra said was ‘‘a noble old bird.” Though he was such an interesting man, my pirate spoke very little to the grown- * ups; indeed, with one exception. he was the most silent person I ever, knew. I make the exception in favor of a young friend who was horn dumb. And I was very proud when he would draw me to his knee and teach me to tell time by his gold watch, though at the same moment fright at being so near the sheath knife sent goose flesh all over my arms. When he gave me those lessons, he always sat on the edge of the wood hox behind the stove in rhe sitting room. He never sat on a chair if he could help it—except at table. He always seemed most comfortable and most cheerful when he sat on something with a very sharp edge. When he was away, I tried tosit on t.e same things bat they brought tears to1ay eyes. On the porch he always sat on the railing, in the siting room on the edge of the wood hox, in the kitchen he was so happy if he could find a full wash tub, for that gave him such a nice sharp edge to sit on, and then he would surely talk to me. All his best stories he told me from that tub, and one very ugly one about the unnatural cat they had on the ship he used to sail on. I had said I ~ did not know sailors had pet cats on board, and be said there was but one cat, but it was guite enough, and he would hardly like to call it a pet cat, even though it was more popular with the officers than with the men. I asked if it wasa pretty cat, and he pulled his big beard bard and said : “Well, no! He was strong and remarka- bly well made, but he wouldn’t care to call a cat-o’-nine-tails a pretty creature !"’ Of course, I cried out that a cat could not have nine tails, hut be said that cat had— that he had seen them with his own eyes, and, headded after a little pause, he ‘‘came mighty near feeling ’em, too.’ 4 ‘*Wonld he have scratched you 2’ I ask- ed, and Ezra said : ‘Scratched ?—would he have scratched me? Why, child, he would have cut the skin from my hody—but there don’t look so frightened ; there are very few of those cats left ncw; the race is almost gone. I began to pick up some of his words, from talking with him so much, and one day he was so tired he fell asleep, and by and by I called out : ‘Mr. Ezra, Mr. Ezra! wake up, please. All hands have been pip- ed down to supper !”’ and after that he al- ways called me his ‘ mate.”’ That made me very happy,but one thing worried me all the time. I wanted him to understand that I knew he was a pirate and that that dreadful fact made no differ- ence in my affection for him. But when- ever I'd try togive him a hint, I'd get frightened and stop. He taught me time telling, and now to tie a hangman’s knot and a sailor’s knot, and to make figures, and at last one day, when I was lonely, unhappiness made me bold, and when my pirate came I looked right into his glittery eye and asked, ‘‘if you please, how did you use to make peo- ple walk the plank 2" Of course, he understood then that I knew his secret. His hand went up to his Beard, he looked at me a moment, then he stooped down and brushed at his trousers- leg, and his shoulders shook, and I saw that he was frightened ; so I went quite close to him and put ny hand in his, and after a minute he said, ‘‘Well, mate, I'll get a bit of board and show you right here in this tub of water, with that chopping- bowl for a ship, if you'll furnish a passen- ger to drown.’’ My china doll was too little and too light, he said, so I got a bottle and filled it with salt and dressed it in my handkerchief, ready to meet its awful doom. And then —and then, that most piratical proceeding known as ‘‘walking the plank’’ was made so thrillingly plain to me that when the plank tipped and my passenger went down into the blueing water depths, I gave a scream that brought out three or four grown-ups to see what had happened to me. He was always kind to helpless or dis- tressed things, yet being a pirate he had to do some swearing, though it was mostly sailor swearing, which is quite different from just common land swearing—which is of course, very wicked indeed. He told me a good deal about the first kind. One day, while he sat on the sharp edged barrel with its head knocked in, he said : ‘‘It’s not wickedness but necessity makes the ‘sailor swear. You couldn’t keep the finest ship ever built on a straight course with- out swearing at her.”’ He very kindly explained the meaning of some of theirswear words. For instance he said that to call a man in anger ‘‘a son of a sea cook’ meant generally a few days in the hospital for the one that did the call- ing. That to “blast a man’s eyes’’—just a plain ‘‘Blast your eyes !”’-—meant, ‘Don’t do that again, or I'll lick you.” But to ‘blast his tarry top lights’’ meant he was far enough out of your reach to keep you from breaking every bone in his body, as you'd like to do. He also remarked that if any sailor was ever known as “Bilge water Jazk’’-—or **Bill”’—that didn’t mean that he was the dandy or howling swell of the ship. As to the land swears, he scarcely ever used them, and I used to think that if he had suspend- ers and didn’t have to hitch his trousers so much, perbaps he wouldn’t have sworn at all. I think I said he was an enigneer on the Lake Shore Road then, but I didn’t say how much he cared for his engine. He al- was called her ‘‘Betsey,’” and he used to say she enjoyed having her toilet made as much as any lady would. He was very angry one day when one of the firemen called her ‘‘Cranky 44,” and Ezra said, ‘It’s the tomfoolery of just such lubbers that spoils ‘Betsey’s’ temper! Why,’ said he, ‘‘when she’s just been cleaned and pol- ished and oiled and properly fed, she’ll fairly swiile at you. Every man on the road knows that ‘44’ works all right for me. But with the others she’s cranky, and with one or two of them she'll jerk and plunge and rock and shde and act like the very devil—and one of these days she’ll smash one of ’em, you see if she don’t. Anyway, I wish they would be kept away from her. It takes days to get ‘Betsey’ quieted and running right again, taking hold of the rail and sweeping along smooth as satin, swift as lightning. When she’s sane and in her right mind, she understands the responsi- bility we share between us—for you see, matey, it’s not freight but human beings we're dragging around curves and across trestles—and they are all trusting us so. And the very worst of ‘Betsey’ is that when her back’s up she don’t care a—well she don’t care how many people she may hurt, 80 long as she smashes the person she’s got it in for.” Then one day, Mr. Ezra came in looking awfully bad. Why, he sat right down on a chair and stayed there for a minute or two before he found it out—so, of course, that showed something bad had happened. And just as he changed to the wood box Mrs. Martin came in, and he looked up and said: ‘Well, mother, ‘Betsey’s’ done it this time--her reputation’s gone .now, I suppose, for good ! She smashed hig Tom Jones last night—both legs broken—fire- man hurt—track torn up Idon’t know how many feet, and—eh, what’s the matter with my band ? Oh, that’s from knockin’ over one of tbe boys who was callin’ ‘Bet- sey’ ‘Bloody 44.” He felt very bad about the accident, and for several days he scarcely spoke, even to me ; but hignext Sunday was at our end of the line, and when I came home from Sun- day school he shouted out : ‘‘Ship, ahoy ! Cast anchor, mate! Then spin us a yarn about your cruise in church waters !’’ ‘““And I was glad! After a while I ask- ed him how ‘‘Betsey’’ was, and he shook his head and said: ‘‘Bad, matey, bad! She’s strained worse than they think she is —and she’s as nervous as a runaway horse and knows it’s killed it’s master. She won’t mind me yet, no master how gentle I am— but jumps and snorts and takes her curves only holding the inner rail, while her outer wheels go whirling in the air!’ He shook his head again and sat on the edge of the box in frowning silence. I leaned against him and softly turned back and fourth the gold ring in his ear. At last he heaved a ‘great sigh and said : ‘Well, what is to be— will be! I’m mighty fond of ‘Betsey,’ and she may smash me if she want’s to, but she mustn’t smash the men and women behind me! No!she mustn’t expect me to back up her tantrams that far.” Then, to ‘“‘change the subject to something pleas- ant,’’ as he said, he showed me how to tat- too people with India ink and a needle ; explained the natureand use of the ‘‘belay- ing pin’? ; aud took some trouble to con- vince me that ‘‘spankers’’ were not things carried for the correction of disobedient chil- dren. After that he told me to lay a straight course for the wood shed, and he would show me how to harpoon a whale, adding that the information might be useful to me some day. Rather foolishly, Isaid, ‘‘Why, Mr. Ezra, there is no whale. And he scowled awfully and asked, ‘‘Do I look like the lubber that asks people to a harpooning where there’s nothing to har- poon ?’’ and he hitched his trousers so hard’ I thought they’d go clear up to his shoul- ders, and told me to ‘‘heave ahead !”’, when I was so scared I could scarcely stand. But, lo and behold ! the sitting room car- pet that came home from the cleaners lay in a great big roll out in the woodshed, making a lovely whale. So, with pieces of clothes line about our waists tied to the boarders’ canes for our harpoons, we bold- ly left our big ship, entered our open boats and attacked the ‘‘monster.”” My harpoon struck almost everything except the whale. But he said the sea was heavy and young whalers often had that luck. Bat he was mad when I excitedly told him my oar was caught in the beast’s gills ; and he walked right off the whale’s back and across the blood stained waves and boxed my ears when I said the whale was ‘“‘a-squirting’’ instead of ‘‘spouting.’”’ Still, it was a lovely, lovely day, we nev- er guessing it was our last. We lost two or three of our crew and had our hoats stove in—indeed, few whales make so stubborv a fight for life as this one did—and she had just stopped churning the reddened waves when our dinner bell rang, and, hot and happy, I rowed back to our hig ship ; and as we went in to dinner, Mr. Ezra promis- ed that on his next trip home he would show me how pirates were said to ‘‘run down and board a rich merchantman.’’ “Oh,” I eried, ‘‘that would be too good to come true !”’ and alas, my words were to come true. I had on my clean apron, and I was watching for my pirate’s return, when a strange man came in—all torn and ecrum- pled and dirty, with cuts on his pale face and his arm in a sling ; and he asked for Mrs. Martin, and he said : ‘I’m Ezra’s fire- man, mum, and ’? then he stopped and his eyes went all about the walls, but wouldn’t look at her at all. And she sat down so hard the windows rattled, and she said : “You're Ezra'’s fireman? "Then what are you here for? What's happened ? Are you clean dumb?’ I touched the man, and in a small voice grasped : ‘‘Please, sir, is it ‘Betsey’? Has she hurted Mr. Ezra?’ And he said, “Yes, her.” And Mis. Martin said, “Then he’—he’s dead—I suppose ?’’ But thecrumpled, dirty man said : “No ! he isn’t dead—but he wishes he was. You see, it was this way : He wouldn't leave his engine! I saw what was comin’, so did he! I called ‘Jump! jump for yonr life, Ez!" He bad one hand on the lever, with the other he gave a hitch to his breeches, and shouted back : ‘Jump and be 101 stand between ‘‘Betsey’’ and the people be- hind I’ I jumped then, and am here all right. Ezra stood at his poss, and went down in the crash. The people he saved are calling him hero, but he’s as blind asa stone. It was the steam, you know. that did it-—for the Lord’s sake, take the child to her mother, if she’s got one !*’ Oh, it was dreadful ! Mr. Ezra lying so still in the bed and the room so dark, and the mediciny smell always there! And then when the light was let in and the smell of drugs went away, I used to creep in as stealthily as a little cat and watch and cry and ery ; and sometimes, thinking he was all alone, he would roll his head and say, ‘‘God—oh God !” Then one day, the heard me sniff, T sup- pose, for he said quick and sharp: ‘Who's { there? Who isit I say?’ And I said, “Only matey, sir,” And he held out his : hand to me, and I came and sat on the bed and we talked and talked, and after that he called for me every day—and I'm) dread- fully afraid that I put on airs about it, though I hope not. Then a day came when I had to tell my pirate good-by. He was well again and had already acquired many of the pathetic tricks of the blind. He was going to the far west, where with a friend he had a small interest in a mine, and the friend thought that even as Ezra was, his knowledge of engines would be of use. The carriage stood at the door. Every one had said good- by. I followed him through the hall to the porch. He turned in the door way and shook hands a second time with Mrs. Mar- tim—whose false front was all crooked and whose face was working. I had a great weight on my chest and a pain in my throat. I did not know what that meant then, but I thought he was forgetting me —and now I know the pain and weight Was Sorrow. Suddenly he stopped and held out his hands vaguely before him and said softly : ‘‘Matey ! Ithought I heard matey’s patter behind me in the hall? Are you there, mate ?"’ I was at his knees in a moment, and then he stooped and my arms were around his neck in a strangling hug, my face was buried in his great black beard. My pirate whom I loved—and of whom I had hut one doubt ! Oh, if that doubt could be driven away ! He tried to rise, but I held him fast—this was my iast, last chance! I raised my face—I gunlped and grasp out my question. ‘‘Dear Mr. Ezra,’’ I said, ‘‘when you were a pirate, —did’’ I almost chok- ed over it—''did you ever make any lady passenger walk the plank?’ He hid his face in my neck a moment, then in a shak- ing voice he said, ‘‘Mate, I give you my solemn affidavy that I never in my goriest hour, made a gentle female thing walk the plank—nor held the poison bowl to her lips —noi yet the dagger to her throat—and that’s the truth !'” And then he straight- ened up and burst into a laugh that fairly shook him from head to foot. The ‘man waiting at the carriage door said : ‘‘Come, Ez, you’ll be late !”’ He felt his way down the seeps to the side walk—he stopped—the laugh was gone. He turned and silently held out his arms. I sprang and caught him about the neck. He held me with one arm—he passed his hand over my hair—my face. He whisper- ed, ‘‘Such an honest little craft!’ He kissed me twice, then gently set me down; and from his peor, scarred, closed lids two tears slipped down and hid themselves in his great beard. I just heard his “‘Good- by, little mate I’ and he was at the wrong place by the carriage. The man caught his arm and pulled him to thedoor. Mr. Ezra hitched his trousers, stepped in and was gone. That he never killed any woman on the sea shows he was a kind man, though for all that—of course, you see for yourself that he had heen a pirate.—By Clara Mor- ris in Cosmopolitan for March. Male Physician Attends Miss Susan B. Anthony for First Time. . Miss Susan A. Anthony, the eminent advocate of Woman’s Suffrage, who has been ill at the home of her niece in Phil- adelphia for some tine, is now on the way to recovery. When she hecame sick the telephone wires were down and it was im- possible to summon a woman physician, in consequence of which she had a male doc- tor, the first time she has been attended by one since childhood. Miss Anthony yesterday received a tele- gram from her home in Rochester, N. Y., stating that the last cent of the $50,000, had heen paid which she, with other wom- en, had pledged to the university there up- on condition that girls be admitted to the institution. A Great Man Gone. John P. Altgeld. Noted Illinois Champion of Free Government Based on Free Men Passes Away After Making Plea for the Boers Former Gov. John P. Altgeld died in room 58. Hotel Munroe, Joliet, Ill., on Wednesday morning, the 12 inst at 7:30 o'clock. He had been unconscious since mid-night. Mr. Altgeld was the principal speaker at a pro-Boer mass meeting the night pre- vious in the Joliet theatre. Just at the close of his speech a sudden dizziness seiz- ed him, and he was assisted from the stage. The meeting proceeded, the audience not realizing what had happened. Mr. Altgeld was taken to the door of the theatre, where several vomiting spells seized him. These continued for nearly an hour and were so pronounced he could not be removed to the hotel. Physicians were hastily summoned, and Mr. Altgeld was carried to the hotel across the street, He retained consciousness and urged the i.ewspaper men to keep the af- fair quiet for fear of alarming his wife. Shortly before midnight he became uncon- scious. He remained in this condition un- til death. Over-elation of spirits is ascribed as the direct cause of the attack of apoplexy that resulted in the death of ex-Gov. Alt- geld. Afewdays ago he made an aunti- injunction agument before Judge Kohl- saat. He felt that he had convinced the judge that his argument was based on sound law, and was overjoyed with the im- pression that he apparently had made on a jurist who has the reputation of being a believer in the principle of injunctions. Following this, the manner in which his Buffalo speech last Saturday was 1eceived by the press of the east added to the ex- Governor's elation. Delarey’s victory over Methuen was the climax, and when he stepped on the platform him best say his emotions had assumed complete mastery of him, a condition which his none too robust constitution could withstand or thwart final col- lapse. Gov. Altgeld began his address with customary vigor. The speaker seemed in excellent condition, and his forceful man- ner during the first half hour of his speech gave no hint of the coming calamity. To- ward the close, however, he weakened some, and those near him noticed that he leaned repeatedly on the table. : himself for the peroration, Mr. Altgeld again stepped to the front of the platform, and in loud ringing tones denounced the policy of England in the Transvaal. He had reached the closing sentence when he began to stammer. He hesitated to pro- ceed, and some in the andience appeared to think that he was confused. But, re- suming once more, he concluded. Mr. Altgeld turned to leave the stage. He stmmbled slightly as he was walking away, but no one in the audience appeared to notice that he wasill. Mr. Altgeld walked to a place behind the scenes. “I must leave in a minute. I am not feeling well,’ he stammered to some men who were holding out their hands to congratu- late him, while the audience in front ap- plauded. Mr. Altgeld took another step and fell in a faint. State Representative Bowles was near by and supported him. The pa- tient narrowly escaped falling down the stairway that leads from the stage. John Peter Altgeld was born in Ger- many Dec. 30th, 1847. When he was three years-old his parents came to this country and settled on a little farm in Richland county, O. His early education- al advantages were meager. In 1864, when but 16 years of age, he enlisted in the fed- eral army and remained in the service un- til the close of the war, fighting in the James river campaign. At the close of the war he worked his way through an acade- my and for a while taught a country school. After spending several yearsin St. Louis, whither he went in 1869, Altgeld lefs5 for southern Kansas, tramping bare-footed across the country and doing chores for his meals; thence he went to northwest- ern Missouri, where he taught school and studied law. In 1872 he was admitted to the bar and located at Savannah, Mo. His first year there at practicing his pro- fession was a starvation time, but shortly afterwards he was elected city attorney and then state’s attorney of Andrew county, In 1875 Mr. Altgeld located in Chicago and entered on the practice of law in this city. He had then a capital of $50. Soon he had built up a lucrative practice aud was in comfortable financial circumstances, Ten years afterward his wealth was esti- mated atsomething like $1,000,000. Later, by speculations in real estate, he is said to have lost the bulk of his property. In 1884 Altgeld ran for Congress in the Fourth district, but was-defeated. In 1836 he became judge of the superior court of Cook county, hut suddenly resigned in 1891. Next year he was nomivated for Governor, and was carried into power on the crest of the wave which landed Grover Cleveland in the White House for a second term. ’ ’ During his term for Governor, Mr. Alt- geld had ardent champions and hitter ene- mies. Oune of his acts that caused much dispute wae the pardoning of the avarch- ists, Fielden, Schwab and Neebhe, who were in the Joliet penitentiary for partici- pating in the Haymarket riot. His ene- mies called him an anarchist. A hostile press cartooned him as a bomb-thrower. His ‘action during the great Pullman strike in Chicago in 1894, when he failed to call out the troops and President Cleveland him- self ordered them to the scene of trouble, was a subject of much debate. For years Mr. Altgeld was an ardent advocate of the free coinage of silver and the municipal ownership of public utili- ties. In the municipal campaign of 1899 Altgeld boited the nomination of Harrison for mayor and was defeated as an inde- pendent candidate. DEATH CROWNS A MATCHLESS CAREER. NEw York, March 12.—Clinton Fur- bish, a veteran Chicago newspaper man and chief o. the brrean of American re- publics during Mr. Cieveland’s second ad- ministration, in an interview concerning the life work and worth of the late ex- Governor John P. Altgeld says: Mr. Far- bish knew Mr. Altgeld intimately and is therefore competent to speak on the sub- ject of the dead statesman’s place in Amer- ican affairs. ‘If John P. Altgeld could ' have chosen the time and manner of his death, he would not have made a more fitting close of a noble life than to pass away as he- stood heaping invective on the men re- sponsible for the slanghter of Boers and Filipinos by English and American despots, -and sending words of cheer to brave heroes fighting for liberty. Voicing the senti- ments of every man in this country worthy the name of American and the glory of our common heritage of love of human rights and hatred of oppression, no wonder the task was too heavy for one who had devoted the best years of his life to the un- those who knew Rousing | | | doing of wrongs and the defiance of ene- | mies of popular government. “In looking over the life and work of | John P. Altgeld there will be no occasion { for his eunlogist to cover infamies with words nor shame by silence. There rests no stain of the blood of men slain in a pre- ventable war on tne soul of J. P. Altgeld. No sycophant may claim for him that he never revised a judgment. nor changed an opinion. “Mr. Altgeld lived for years in the pub- lic eye, having challenged the enmity of those who control, in large measure, the sources of public informatien. And no man of intelligence has or can raise a cry against his sterling honesty. In his dying words there was no shadow of a concealed pur- pose. He hated all tyrants and cared not on which underpiece of bunting they made missionaries of greed out of Mausers and Gatling guns, and there need be no care exercised by the millions of plutocracy lest they violate the proprieties in speak- ing of theirdead enemy. Let their ken- nels be opened and the whole pack turned loose. incense to the dead hero, as their praise would he abuse.”’ Brothers Killed While Quarreling. Were Fighting on the Railroad. WhenThey Were Run | Down by a Middle Division Engine— William | was Instantly. Killed and Calvin Died at the | Hospital. William and Calvin Clayton, two broth- ers, uf Bellwood, are dead and their death is the result of a brothers’ quarrel. While they tussled each other to fight on the rail- road a short distance east of the Red Bridge at Juniata at 7:30 o'clock Wednesday evening they were run down by middle division engine No. 618, in charge of engi- neer Kipple. Neither bad time to uttera word of forgiveness. William was instant- i ly killed. his head and right arm being severed from his body. Calvin was fatal- ly injured and died at the Altoona hospi- tal av 9:45 o'clock, His skull and nose . were fractured, his right foot ground off, i the lefs leg crushed, the right arm man- gled and his scalp and face lacerated. The particulars are about as follows: The brothers had heen together the greater part of the day aud had imbibed freely of intoxicants. They went to Altoona during the afternoon and passed several hours there. About supper time they started for | home with a jug of whiskey, but when they reached Red Bridge they began to | quarrel. They were in the railroad yard i and began fighting on a west bound track. | Several Bellwood boys, among them being l john Dillon, Charles Green and Orr Miller, | were witnesses of the quarrel, and seeing | an engine approaching they endeavored to | separate the brothers. Their efforts were | of no avail and before the brothers Clayton ! realized their danger they were struck and | their bodies mangled beneath the ponder- | ous locomotive. William was completely | decapitated, his death being instantaneous. | Clayton still lived when the Bellwood boys { and others reached his side. The injured i man and the body of his dead brother were taken to the Altoona passenger station, i The latter was given in charge of under- | taker Lafferty and the fo:mer removed to | the hospital, where an examination showed his injuries to be fatal. He lingered until 9:40 o’clock, when he passed away. His body was also removed to Lafferty’s mor- | gue. g The unfortunate men were sons of James Clayton, who works on the Penunsylvama railroad coal tipple at Bellwood. William was aged 32 years and leaves a wife and several children. Calvin was aged 30 years and was employed as a lnmberman. He Won the Governor. Here is a brand new story about the bluff and hearty ex-Governor Hogg of Texas. The ex-Governor is one of the pew millionaires of the Beaumont oil field. He made early investments there and has reaped a rich harvest. He has been at Beaumont lately looking after his inter- ests. At the hotel at Beaumont his partic- ular waiter was one George, a sable-skin- ned gentleman of numerous accomplish- ments. George isa model waiter. The Governor valued him highly. Each day ernor his tip, $1. George reveled in wealth. He was the envy of all the other waiters. He was the happy possessor of a good thing.”’ The other day when the Governor en- tered the dining doom a strange darky stood behing his chair. ‘‘ Where's George ?’’ asked the Governor brusquely. The new waiter bowed low. ‘‘Ise youh waitah now. sah,” he said softly. ‘‘But where’s George ?”’ again his new retainer assured him : ‘‘Ise you waitah now.’’” The Gov- ernor looked up from his newspaper sharp- ly. He was somewhat mystified, and with increasing emphasis demanded to know where George was anyhow. *‘Well, you see, sah,” began the new- comer with some hesitation; ‘‘Gawge and I was out las’ night playing craps. Gawge went broke; I won his pile. 'Then’’—here his voice dropped lower and his manner was confidential —‘‘be put you up agin three dollahs and I won. So, Ise youh waitah.”’ Townville Bank Looted. Between $7,000 and $8,000 Stolen from Craw- ford County Concern. The Farmers Bank, of Townville, Craw- ford county, was burglarized some time Tuesday night and the entire supply of cash contained iin the vault, amounting to be- tween $7,000 and $8,000, stolen. The vault door was drilled and blown open and the inner doors were forced. : The burglars obtained $1,400 in silver, $600 in gold, and between $5,000 and $6,- 000 in bills, about $400 of the latter being in ones and twos. There is no clue to the perpetrators, although suspicion falls on three men who were seen in that vicinity a day or two ago. The residences of Dr. W. H. Quay and Dr. G. W. Ellison were also visited and food and dishes stolen, these being evi- ing, where traces of a midnight meal have been found. The Bank of New Castle, Ky., was rob- bed early Tuesday morning of $4,500 cash, a lot of jewelry belonging to Isaac W. Kelly, its President and $500 worth of stamps deposited by the Postmaster. Cit- izens were aroused, but were held at bay until the burglars made their escape. Woman Threw Gasoline Over Husband and Ignited It, : While Isaac White, colored, was asleep in bed at Dayton, O., Friday morning his wife threw gasoline over him and ignited it. White died of his burns last night and his wife subsequently made a confession. She is under arrest charged with murder. The woman claims White beat and choked her when he came home and then went to bed. at dinner George received from the Gov- | i | | i 1 Their bitterest venom will be sweet | dently taken to an unoccupied hotel build- | { i Browning Explains the Magee Claim. Physician Tells How His Patient Came to Owe Him £800,000. The executors of the estate of Senator Christopher L. Magee have rejected the claim for physician fees, amounting to $190,070, filed by Dr. Walter C. Brown- ing, of this city. Dr. Browning bas directed his attorneys to begin suit against the executors, but whether the action will be to recover $190,- 070, or several times that amount, cannot be stated. Dr. Browning refused to discunss that feature of the case. The specialist said that Mr. Magee had acknowledged an indebtedness of more than $800,000. “Furthermore,’”” he continued, ‘there are several persons, friends of the Senator, who are familiar with the circumstances and who will appear on the witness stand in support of my claims.”’ Dr. Browning said that he prolonged Mr. Magee’s life for more than a year, and that during that period the Senator made more than $2.000,000. ‘‘It is one of the ways of executors to undervalue an estate,’’ he continued. ‘‘I | presume there are reasons for doing so. | Senator Magee’s estate has been registered at 50 per cent. of its value. He was worth $6,000,000 or more at the time of his death. My services made it possible for him to accumulate one-third of the property.’ A copy of the statement filed with the executors was shown by Dr. Browning, who explained at length the various charges, and told why they were made, why they were s0 large, and why the sum total due him is $800,000. TIME VERY VALUABLE. “My time is worth $20 an hour,’ he he- gan. ‘‘By tbat I do not mean to say that I charge every patient who comes into my office $20 for consultation. My visitors do not ordinarily stay more than five or ten minutes, and under such circumstances I charge them only $5. At these rates I make more than $20 an hour. But when I spend long periods of time with a patient my rates are fixed. *‘Moreover, I doa strictly cash business. Since 1878 TI have never had an account uncollected for more than thirty days, ex- cepting the Magee account, and there was a good reason for not collecting the money in that instance. Mr. Magee promised to double or treble it for me, and he did as he promised. : ‘*At the end of each month I handed the Senator a bill for the number of hours I bad spent with him. On every bill I charged $20 an Lour for the time, and in each instance he took a pencil and doubled the charge and the totals. He said that what I was doing for him was worth twice as much as I asked him to pay. For in- stance, if I spent 300 bours with him in one month and charged $6000, he would change the $20 to $40 and the $6000, to $12,000. Then he wonld O. K. the bill as corrected and file it with his papers. HAS OTHER EVIDENCE. ‘“These bills the Senator’s executors have failed to produce. It is very strange if they cannor fiud them. However, I have sufficient evidence to prove that they did exist just as I state. **The Senator suggested that instead of turning the cash over to me it would he a good thing for him to invest it. I knew how he stoed in relation to the stock mar- ket, and I willingly accepted his sugges- tion. I knew that he was in with Peter Widener and Elkins and other fellows who help the lambs out of Wall street. I knew that Widener had turned his physician’s fees into nearly a million dollars, and I was glad to let the Senator take care of mine. ‘From time to time the Senator told me how I stood in relation to his investment account. A short time before his death he ‘said that more than $800,000 was due me. He also told me that he bad personally cleared more than $2,000,000 during the. time that I kept him alive. The Subject of Pruning Trees. In a few weeks men with saws, hatchets, and ladders will appear on the streets im- portuning householders for permission to ‘‘prune’’ their shade and street trees. These butchers. who scarcely know one tree from another, should be given no encourage- ment. To permit them to operate will simply result. in nine cases out of ten, in mutilation and premature death of the trees, because they generally are not ac- quainted with even the first principles of scientific pruning. The chief idea of most of these men is to so ply the hatchet and saw that a tree will be transformed into an unsightly stump, and then trust to its sending forth later numerous spindly, sick- ly branches. The wounds made by the tools used are nsually more or less jagged, 80 that a short time after rot sets in, and the owner wonders why the tree dies, or, at best, does not thrive as it did before. As a matter of fact, very few deciduous trees suitable for street planting require severe pruning, not even the rapidly growing silver maple and Carolina poplar. There are times, naturally, when the use of the pruning knife is desirable, but when these rare occasions do arise the work should be intrusted to a man who understands his business, and not to one who could not distinguish a chestnut tree from a chestnut oak, if called upon to do so. A man would not go to a blacksmith to repair his watch, and on the same line of reasoning he should not employ the first man who asks to prune his trees. The Pennsylvania State Forestry Association has taken up the matter, and is properly very out-spoken in itsdenuncia- tion of the practice of butchering trees un- der the name of pruning. If it makes any headway against the barbaious habit, that is particularly prevalent a good work will be done. The management of trees requires as much knowledge and at- tention as the practice of medicine, and no householder who is not familiar with the craft should decide on the treatment to be given them. If the question of the propriety of pruning a tree arises, the best course to follow, in the absence of an expert, is to decide negatively.— Newark News. coe end Wants $10,000 for Wasted Love. Mary E. Adams, of Harrisburg, through her attorney, F. W. Culbertson, has entered suit in the courts of Mifflin county to be tried in April term, against Samuel F. Hollein,a furniture dealer on Nalley street, Lewistown, for breach of promise to marry her, and claims damages to the extent of ten thousand dollars. She also sues to recover one thousand three hundred and fifty dollars which she claims she loaned Hollein to go into business. In her declaration incident to filing the suit she says that she loaned Hollein the above sum at one time. followed at various times by smaller amounts for the purpose of purchasing and conducting a business with the understanding that he would marry her and make their interests mutual. ———Subsceribe for the WATCHMAN,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers