to hold on:=~You would have faith in me, in my goodness and wisdom. Try and bave faith in the goodness and wisdom of that higher power.” And the minister went oub-without giving her a chance to reply. W REF The minigter’s manner had been so gen- tle, his smile do kindly, that she bad none of the angry antogonisms she usually had when cmbiing ber point of view. “I won’t say any more,’”’ she thought, com- placently as the fly on the wheel. *'I wouldn’t like to unsettle his mind. He takes such comfort the way he thinks. He'd ne'er again come back to ‘me; Why can’t I take comfort in it ?’’ she cried . I'd lost his love for aye, r : | angrily. ‘‘Dear knows I need it!” And And, meaning all he threatened, he, . ~. . | ‘then she turned to the letter she had been Poor baby! ran away. reading when the minister came in—a let- Sf ter..in. which. May Vance, her husband’s cousin, had written to know if she might spend the hext* year with her. May could have a position .in the new library that would enable her to pay a small board, suf- ficient to cover any additional expense;and she was quite alone in the world and strong- ‘| 1y desirous fo he with some one who belong- ed to her., ‘‘Asif I hadn’t enough before, withons that 1” moaned Mrs. Gibson. ‘Of course I can’t refuse her, with all the spare room in the house, and she Captain Gib- son’s. only relative. Of course she must revolutionize. all my habits—and I a sick | woman!” And, looking round the spa- | cions.room where the rugs and curtains of | Jong ago, rich yet, even if faded, and the 'ancient mahoganies made deep and pleas- ant shadowy, where the old portraits, reflect- | ed in quaint mirrors, seemed to people it, and the yellow ivoriesand hammered silver and brass that Captain Gibson bad brought back from, the Orient gave a certain foreign interest, she felt a pang of parting with the personal_sense_ of possession and quiet. “No,” she.said to herself ; ‘‘if any one be- longing, to Captain Gibson wants a home ‘here, why, here, it.is. I suppose it will seem pleasanter to her than it does to me. For my pagt.&’d like to fly away from it all, if I didn’t know it was myself I want to fly. ARAY ym, after all !”’ And May Vance came; rosy, smiling, her face like a sunbeam, her laugh contagious, full of life and health and gladness. She started the garden herself; filled every jar in the house with wild flowers, and with big green; homghs. when there were no flow- ers. conld:ha heard singing the first thing in the -morping; came from her work at noon like a delightful breeze blowing into the house; went to church on Sundays and to evening: meeting on Wednesday as nat- -urally. as;sha- breathed; and took it for granted that<Mrs. Gibson was as pleased to have, ok as she was pleased to be $here.. *‘‘I$-i8.80 good,’’ she said once, ‘‘to be with; your own people.” Somehow it souehed. Ns: Gibson to be thought of as any :onels:aywn. people. “You seem i.$0.-he very. content’’ she iy es, inset M ed. * “Yes, inde May answered. ‘How can PREM TE 11S uch a beautiful world !”? “Beautiful !"*” exclaimed Mrs. Gibson. But she checked herself; if the girl were contendy-ief her be content. It wounldn’s last. It0onldn’t; . It was all a delnsion— dust-and ashes, dnst and ashes! And yesit ;was a beautiful world that June dag;exery wind brought the breath of (rpses:or- of mew, mown bay, soft films of -anow white. cloud, wandered over the vel- Bellefonte, Pa., February 20, 1903. CE ! GOD AND THE CHILDREN. Last night, through bitter tears he cried, 3 And, hating me, he.fled, : Then turning, full of wounded pride, And childish anger, said i ‘This morning in my arms he lies, His face upon my breast, And, looking up, with honest eyes, He says he loves me best; The punishment I gave last night,” .Has long since ceased to.smart, The hate he had hag taken flight, And joy is in his heart. 1 think the good; kind God above Keeps children in His care And gives them of His deepest love The greater, freer share. 2 Because their tears soon dry away Before the smiles that wait ‘Po glow again—because that they * ~ So soon forgot to hate. Pods : —&8. E. Kiser, in Chicago. Record-Herald THE BIRTHDAY. Mrs. Gibson had been -ailing for a long time, feeling altogether discouraged, and spending much time in Seeking reasons for’ her suffering. = + AE ; i -She’ could not satisfy hierself'by throw-: ing the: responsibility upon her: manner of life, or upon: shat of her: ancestors.. She knew little of her ancestors, and if she had: lived unwisely herself, she did not confess it. And so she carried ber thoughts back ‘into the question of the origin of evil, and’ said that if the Almighty were omnipotent rhe: could have prevented. it; and if he could nob prevent it, then he was not almighty; and she felt rather. elated as her syllogisms till she found herself tangled in their vi- ‘cious eirele. © 0 AA ii\The world looked dark to the poor soul. ‘The children at their'play seemed only horn’ vo die: If she saw two lovers on the path, .she thought how soon it would all hie done with. ‘‘Dupst and ashes, dust.and ashes,” “she said over and over to herself, and wish- ed she were through with it ; and when her’ _oleander tree" blossoméd in a profusion at fragrant, rosy bloom, shé thought only that . the tree, was poisonous ; and when her:eao-! _tus flowers started up like live flames, she, .thought only of the prickly spines.on the “stems; and while she tended the plants that latticed her windows, she thought that. -wegetable life: was the only Tife'to live; and! :-when she saw the: 'woodbine- over her gate :hang like a, drooping crimson. banner; she said that beauty was a cheat and gnly mask-. “"0f course all this is disease,” said the ‘niinister—for he often came to see her,even, feeling her a peculiar charge, and eagerly. desiring to help her. :: grain ! +. Disease !’? said Mss. Gibson, with small’ reverence. ‘‘I’m as well. as youare. Ex-| (cept, of course, for this nenritis.’! “ “Any one with neuritis needs toning up. “If you would let the doctor. give you a ton- ‘ie, “you will take a more ‘cheerful view of life presently.?? "1 0} huetise 91 - 4‘ am, going to dismiss the doctor and his dike: golden. dadders between heaven and .earth. 5; Ands ab night, when evening bells rang over the water witha far away sweet -and. subtle;mpgie.as if ringing from some unknown land in the afterglow of the west, where a new.moon melted in the light, and lonigs. , Ang I take a reasonable. view of when, fhe slow, Taint stats come out. iti a MUHA said the minister, ‘ib is aaknow- | po silver 6Vér the purple deptbs, it made May, at Ady rate, wonder how any one could live andcbreatbe and not feel the -divinein ital, and the presence and value of beanty. in the supreme thought. Mrs, Gihsopn, conld net have told you why.it exagperated. her to see the minister walk, home with, May from the prayer- .meesing, qn these summer nights when, to them; at all events, the old planet swung :very nea the regions where time and space cease; ib. was such idleness, she reasoned, such a tempting of; fate, such a self decep- tion, such a heaping up of trouble for young folks.to.imagine they were happy ! May was very blushingand radiant in those days; the minister used to drop in for acap of tea that May served on the veranda, and it did not weed the perfume of the sweet- brier and ~honeysuckle there to make him drink’asdf it were nectar ; and although he praised theold schina, yet all the time he was looking .at-May, who then was more ‘blushing and radiant than ever; and May always strolled down the path with him, | and they-stood under the great tree boughs through which, as they glanced up, the white flames of the stars seemed the very lawps of the, golden city. Is disappointed Mrs. Gibson, as she remarked to the empty room, that ministersshould be nothing but ‘men? Noe FAN "Mrs: ‘Gibeok ‘was feeling very bad at that | timey'slie suffered, and the medicaments to which:she bad" réturned seemed to be doing her no good.' Yet‘the doctor had said that ‘she way progressing properly, and with a little more courage and self forgetfulness one day the Héiveforce she was aconmulat- ing ‘would'show itself, and she would find that she ::was practically cured. She did edged that human reason is fallible. I don’t knéw “why yours’ should be better ‘than’ ‘that of many greater scliolars and thinkers.”’ a ipthign din at ne tart ‘Because they all began biased,’’ sbe re- plied, warming to the argument with a great bus silent glorying in her intellect. ‘She bad taken a fancy to the young minis- ter, partly because he was young and part- ly because he had the face of a saint, she said; adding; for consistency’s sake, if there were such a thing as a saint, a fair baired, blue eyed saint. iit ' ““What would you think of a little crea- ‘ture, that can see no farther than it can “dart its tongue, which should undertake to eriticise the: movements of the stars?’’ he asked. in Hes co Rie -“Jast what I should think of him if he undertook . to. explain their movements,’ she replied, with a triumphant self lauda- tion in her tone. sn Ee i+ “Mrs, Gibson, you are certainly a most unhappy woman.” {ie ‘‘That is 80.” . 0 . ‘And I am a very happy man.’’ “I have your word for is.’ . ‘‘You must confess that that is hess for us which gives us the most happiness?’ ‘‘That is best which makes us stronger,’’: said Mrs. Gibson, grimly. : -. ©. . ‘Stronger for what—if this is all.” Mrs. Gibson looked up with a slightly startled air. Could he mean that her trou- ‘bles were the pnrpose of making her strong-: er for another life? She laughed a dreary “laugh. Fie HE TT “Tt would take a good deal in your other life to Suike a balance with this obe.ifor Lo LL eB a en not helieve him, to be sure. Who could duorou speak as if there were a, balance | forges themselves Tn such trouble. ‘due vou, as if ‘you had'a right to happi- |" ‘Shi ‘presently tdund out who could. For wg SR Coole CE aa Vinee came home one night with a © “Why, so I bare Lt God is good-and his: | fushiell * face and ‘an aching head, and by laws created me,” she said, her eyes flash- | morning was in a high fever; and when the ing. - ‘‘He had no right to make; anything | doctor went lie-sent a nurse, and for weeks ;An the world only tosoffer.”” = |]ife huni in the balance. . ‘‘Henever did. ..'‘Ob, I'm sorry to be so much trouble !”’ “May sighed, 1p a lucid interval. “And I’ve so upset your house.” ‘“There’s nothing upset. “Well, then, theré is'a good deal to he made up to me. I have lost all my money but.juss.enongh to.drag.along.with, -I.have. And you're not Jost husband and children and. friends.and | 4 mite of trouble !"” said Mrs. Gibson, bend- family. My houses as ssill, as lonely, 8 | (ha deer bor. “You just g the grave can be—no youth, no ite, mo’ ng Fb rl get well, dear ‘hope, no joy init. "I am ill, ‘with an ill.’ nla ‘fiéss that taxes ‘strength’ ‘and’ patience. ‘don’t know of a pleasure’T have, except that: of talking toiyou 3: uti «visions goon ~~ “Did you ever-think of making an.end, then ?”’ asked the minister, daringly. ¢I—I suppose I am afraid,” _ For guddenly Mrs. Gibson found that the months wish this young girl had made an immense aud happy difference in her life. eer and” stir had come into the honse with an atmosphere of peace and pleasure; : he had Jogke for the home coming at ghe falter- | noon and, night, and taken interes: in the 3 i : Sakis NU BO y BF 8 © *‘You-have given up:the whole ‘point.’ el puss or had had her horizon en / 11a of view shaken ev . Afraid? You can be afraid only.of a here- | tle, and her 1 BE after.. You can be afraid . only. of a power, | herself.” Md if she were to return to the in that hereafter, ,.You confess the exis- {old brooding and loneliness—no, no! the sence of that power, then, by your very fear | whole world, would be blacker than before! —that power the furthest, the highest, of | And when the minister same, she felt like all power. Why not also tonfess that, as | imploring him to ask for May’s lite. And ‘thas power is the higliest, it mst have the | when the doctor said May would recover, highest of all" expressions 2—and' the high- | Vrs, Gibson wauld have dropped prostrate ‘est of all eXpiessions is love: Poninon adie | opighe hanks efore the unknown powers of «=. "Love 1”. she exclaimed, with : sharp | ‘she universe, if she had been sure to whom SOOID. oo cogs coc si tf ghe should address those thanks. . ‘Yes. Love, Even although yen fail | Jb heard the ringing of the church bells to see it. But becanse it must be there! |%ith'd new and indescribable sensation that For ‘there is'no logical possibility that it day. She wished she did know to whom should not be there, Convince yourself of | yo pive shanks ;. she wished she knew how that, my friend. ‘You'value reason. That | to reach shat fat-off power or person. Those is.pure reasoir. . Bat don’s youn know==<T'am | hells reminded her of a time when she used sure of .it—faith.is something: of a: finer sq goto, meeting between her father and ber quality than. reason ?. If you. singin & another with a .rose in her little gown, wg for life to the face of a precipice, and I, | Phere was,a note in the tone of those bells above, told you to reach. up to me ane of | ghas gjbrased inher heart as if she were the bands with which you held, a, J9u'l yoang again and glad. would do it, even though reason €0ld you | ° She felt this more and more as May’s wan ExT: tug # ,vety. blue. of the sky, and the sunshine was | ‘door, and he took her in and seated her smile changed to a gay laugh, and when she sat up, and wben she came downstairs, although weak and white, and still forbid- den outdbors. The doctor Lad been congratulating him- self on the faint hloom upon Mrs. Gibson's cheek one day. ‘‘It’s the little cap May made for my birthday, and the reflection of the pink rnibbons,”’ she said. ‘‘I was try- ing it on when you came in.” “Trying it on me,”’ said the doctor. “You know, or you don’t know, I’ve a birthday coming this week, and I've half a mind to make a little feast of it—anyway, so far as a good dinner goes, though good- ness knows when I've donesuch a thing be- fore! I haven’t been in “the way of being glad I was born. But—I don’t kuow— somehow May makes me feel as if it were worth while to be here.”’ ‘A tonic, to be taken, ad lib.,”’ said the doctor. *‘Yes; I'll have a nice littledinner—clam bouillon with whipped creaw, roast duck, grape fruit salad, floating island. Perhaps the minister’ll come—"’ “I wouldn’t wonder.’’ “And then I’m about tired of toast and tea. Something else would relish, may- be.”’ “a good hearty dinner,’’ said the doctor. | “And it will make a man of you !’’ May was nearly quite herself; and as she sat in Nora’s spotless kitchen the next day, straining the cherry cordial made before she was ill, she sang softly half under her breath. ‘‘My mother used to, sing that hymn,” said Mrs. Gibson, in the doorway. “I wonder what is the peculiar pleasure in singing hymns.”’ ‘“‘Why,’’ said May, ‘‘there is nothing quite so sweet and fine as music—except prayer, you know. And put prayer to music, and it sometimes seems to give you wings; and I don’t know why, but those very wings seem to lift you over trouble and to flatter when youn are bappy.’’ The bell was tolling through the twilight for the Wednesday evening prayer meeting an hour or two later. Oh, I wish I could go to prayer meet- ing!” said May, looking out of the window wistfully. ““The idea! Well you can’t,’’ said Mrs. Gibson, authoritatively. ‘You go for me,”’ said May, caressingly, with sudden daring and persuasion. “y "m 5 ‘Yes, dear, vou. if I were there.’’ Mrs. Gibson said to Nora that she hated to refuse Miss May anything. “Sure, ’twould be a crying shame—the little white lamb she do be,’’ said Nora. But Mrs. Gibson hesitated. Why she wasn’t in the habit of going out evenings. Yet, as all her other habits were being re- versed, she might, she might possibly, give up this point too. It was only a few steps. She was certainly feeling better. But then the night air—well perbaps it wouldn’t do her any harm. She had no earthly interest in prayer meetings, to be sure, or unearthly either. But if it would really give May pleasure —and —and — what would the neighbors think ? Well, she had not much cared, all her life, what the neighbors thought, or said, for the matter of that! She wouldn’t begin now. To her own amazement, Mrs. Gibson went. The minister happened to meet her at the I should feel almost as himself. She did not join in the prayers at first. Why should she? She had come only to please May. How could she? She had long lost the habit of praying. But she listened to the psalm, ‘‘The Lord is my shepherd,” aud a new meaning struck her in the words ‘‘He restoreth my soul;”’ and she found herself rather intent as the min- ister read the chapter of Corinthians, rem- dering it, ‘‘The greatest of these is love.” And then, as he turned back the leaves and read the thirty eighth and following psalms, ‘‘Thy hand presseth me sore. . . . I am troubled. I am bowed down greatly. . . . .I am fallen and sore broken. . . . Forsake me not, O Lord! O my God, be not far from me! O spare me, that I may recover strength! . . .I am poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon me. Thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God !’’ she found herself joining in the petition of it with a wild cry of her heart. ‘‘Make no tarrying, O my God !” she implored silently and with all her might. She remembered, as the sing- ing presently stirred ber; the time when she went to meeting in her young days; she felt as if her father were sitting beside ber now; the tears welled into her eyes and fell over on her cheeks. And when the minister prayed for a humble and contrite spirit, and that a sense of the Divine Presence should go with them all, she herself was praying with bim with an urgent and compeiling force. . It was only a few words that the minister spoke, from the verse ‘‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.’’ But Mrs. Gibson felt with sudden convic- tion as if folds of darkness had fallen from her eyes, that ‘‘all these things’’ were of no consequer:ce before something infinitely be- yond them. She went out at last with a strange humility in her soul, conscious that she was a child to be instructed, to be led, that she was a beggar imploring bounty. What was it that the minister had once said about faith as finer than reason, faith itself as evidence? Yes, he had said love was the highest; but would that highest stoop to her? Yet what of that? she said swift- ly; the soul is a thing of immortal youth ! It was a soft, close night, with an un- usual balm and fragrance of fallen leaves‘in the air. She paused a moment inside her gate, and looked np at the dark sky where the stars were flung out in a ganzy banner of subdued luster. As she went on, a light wind came and blew through the mist, and as she glanced up across the bare branches of the elm the great evening star flared out at her like the face of a shining spirit; and to her excited emotion the deeps of heaven appeared to open, and something—was it a comforting hand laid upon her, was it that Divine Presence come to her ?2—something, something was making her aware of love and power and protection, as if it upbuoy- ed her over all the gulfs, in a way she had never known, had never dreamed. She fell upon her knees there in the path, hidden in the dark. “Lord, I know thee! Lord I thank thee !’ she cried aloud. Mrs. Gibson’s face wore an unused se- renity when she went in. ‘It does you good to see people,’”’ she raid to May. *‘I think I shall go to prayer meeting always now. I have been shutting myself in the dark, and all the time heaven was so near !"’ May ran and put her arms around her neck. ‘“There are different regions of heaven,” she said, hiding her face. *‘I have been in one heaven ever since I began to get well. For—the—the Minister—I—the Minister.”’ “May !"’ oried Mrs. Gibson in alarm. ‘“You’re not in earnest! Oh, what does this mean ! ‘You’re not going to leave me now for all the ministers in creation !"’? . “No,” said May, drawing back, langh- ing and blushing. ‘‘Only for one of them.’ *‘You shan’s,”’ cried Mrs. Gibson then, after she bad poked the sea coal fire a min- ute and sent a rosy blaze dancing through the room. ‘‘You never shall in the world ! This house is big enough for ten. You shall live here with me. I will keep to my own quarters. and you shall fit up the oth- er rooms for yourself in any way you please, aud I won’t bother you a bit, or even argue any more with him. I’m feeling as if I had been cured, whether it’s by medicine or by miracle—the way the doctor said I would be. And [I’ll bave a share in the goings and comings, and in the life and love !”’ she cried rapturounsly. ‘‘Oh, hesetteth the =oli- tary in families. I wonder if all this hap- piness is what is meant by ‘these things shall be added unto you’? Child, what a blessing yon are! What thing will you he the means of my doing next? You never will know anything about what you have done for me already, because I can’t talk about it. But if I get into heaven at last, it will be by holding on the skirts of your garments. Do you suppose the minister will come to dinner tomorrow if I send round and ask him ? I've something to say to him. It’s my birthday, you know. Not just my birthday on this beautiful planet, but the birthday of my soul inte everlast- ing life !”’—By Harriet Prescoit Spofford in The Outlook. How He Photographed Schwab. Taker of Eminent Men's Pictures Hid by the Roadside on the Drive to Loretto. A famous photographer, who makes it a business to secure photegraphs of eminent men, told a New York Sun reporter a few days ago how he managed to get a picture of Charles M. Schwab. Aftertelling how he made $5,000 from one negative of Admir- al Dewey, he said : I’m reminded at this juncture of the time I got ahead of Charles M. Schwab. It hap- pened last summer. 1 was sent to Loretto, the little Pennsyl- vania mountain town where Schwab spent his boyhood and where he has built himself a magnificently appointed home. It was easy enough to secure Mr. Schwab’s per- mission to photograph his residence, and, in fact, everything that belonged to him in Loretto, except himself and Mrs. Schwab. He was pleasant enough about it, but ex- ceedingly firm in his refusal. In the hope of catching him unawares, I loafed aronnd the town for a couple of days, but he turn- ed the tables on me and left town for the East one morning before 1'd got up. Before taking the stage for Cresson, the nearest railroad station, six miles away, I found out that Mr. Schwab would return in a week’s time. Then I went on to Pitts- burg, where I had some work to do. On the day appointed for Mr. Schwab’s return to Loretto I arrived in Cresson, and, hiring a buggy I drove along the stage road until I reached the high hill just a mile be yond the village limits. Here I hitched my horse at the side of the road and seated myself on the ten-foot enbankment over- looking the hill at nearly its summit. It was 2 o’clock in the afternoon when I took up my stand, and it was two hours la- ter when I beheld a splendidly accoutred pair of horses begin slowly to ascend the hill. I knew them for Schwab’s, because 1'd seen the turnout before and because no one else in that region has blooded horses. Slowly the horses came toward me, and pretty soon I saw who were in the trap— noneother than Charles M. Schwab. him- self handling the reins and Mrs. Schwab by his side. For some reason or other they didn’t see me until they were right under me, and then it was too late to do anything. I smiled, as I saw Mr. Schwab throw up a shielding arm full ten seconds after the camera had clicked. Then, as he realized the futility of it all, he turned toward me and yelled: ‘‘Say, if there had heen two roads into this town instead of one, I'd have kept you guessing, all right.” How to Treat an Old Friend. A whole chapter might be written on the rationale of a baked potato, the simplest thing in the world to have just right, and yet not one time in a thousand do you find itso. The other nine hundred and ninety- nine times you meet a black, charred apol- ogy for a potato, or else one long overdone, flabby, tasteless, shrunken, wizzened. To have it perfect—hot, light, nearly ready to pop open like a chestnut at the slightest pressure—youn must have a work- ing knowledge of your oven. Once you un- derstand that, you can always put your po- tatoes in at the same moment, sure of tak- ing them out in the full effnlgence of pota- to glory at the second they are due. Most steady coal ovens will bake a potato for lun- cheon or dinner in an hour. A breakfast oven, if the fire is made up fresh, is usually much quicker. A gas oven, with the gas at normal, requires about three-quarters of an hour. : In ‘‘catohing’’ your potatoes, try to get smooth, white-skinned ones, medium sized and oval in shape. Scrub with the vege- table brash in plenty of water, rinse well, and drain. Be sure your oven is clean, for let me tell youn, subrosa (provided always, that you haven’t dyspepsia), that a mouth- ful or two of the delicate, crispy skin done toa turn, well buttered, salted and pepper- ed, is a bonne bouche worthy of the name. Keep your oven at asteady heat. Test your potatoes by pressing lightly with yonr forefinger, protected by a towel, but never use a fork, which lets thesteam escape be- fore the potato may be done. When soft, yet not too soft, pinch them to break the skin and serve at once. Never cover, as the steam makes them soggy. Landslide Wrecks Train. Three of the Crew on B. & O. Freight Scalded to Death. In a frightful wreck at Vienna Station, on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad Friday, Geo. Cowan, engineer; M..A. Bell. fireman and James Wright, a brakeman, were kill- ed, the train to which they belonged was piled ina confused mass on the tracks, which were torn up for several hundred yards. The east bound through freight was go- ing towards Pittsburg at a high rate of speed. Just west of the little station of Vienna is a deep, short cut, approached by a sharp curve. The soil above these tracks in the cut had loosened from recent rains and a quantity of rocks had tumbled to the tracks. The slide occurred a few minutes before the train arrived at the spot, and as the train was going at a high rate of speed there was no possibility for stopping in time to preyens the crash. The engine was thrown high in the air and alighted on its side, pinning the three unfortunate men under it, and the escaping steam literally scalded them to death. Ten cars imme- diately behind the engine were derailed and piled in a promiscuous heap. ——Said Mr. Goodson to his pretty niece “Do you work for the poor?’’ “Indeed. I do!’ she replied. “I go to every oharity ball there is.’’— Exchange. St. Bernard Dogs. Some Anecdotes of Their Intelligence and Bravery. A New England mill-owner allowed his pet St Bernard to sleep in the office, quite near his house, says a writer in ‘‘Country Life in America.”” As he unlocked the door one morning he heard a low growl, and there stood the dog over the prostrate body ofa man. As the mill-owner ap- proached the man tried to arise, but anoth- er warning growl made him drop back, ejaculating: ‘‘For God’s sake call off your dog! He’s been standing over me four hours.”’” Barglar tools lay beside him. He was unbarmed and so was the safe. A lady who was going on a long journey one summer left her ‘‘Brenner’’ in the care of a livery stable keeper, a friend who knew and loved the dog. Brenner was a very quiet and unobtrusive fellow, careful to keep out of the way, yet always near at hand. So quiet was he that strangers thought him cowardly, and many times he was shoved about by teasing, human bul- lies—just to see what he would do. Bren- ner took all their rough jokes in good part until one day after his toes had heen trod- den on repeatedly by his chief tormentor. Findiog it apparently impossible to pro- voke the dog, the bully turned upon the stable keeper and began wrestling with him. Up sprang Brenner like a tiger, and pushing his great body between the men, he forced them apart. Then, erect upon his hind legs, he put his forepaws upon his enemy’s shoulders and uttered just one fierce growl. That was enough. His toes never suffered again. A three-month-old pup, by careful obser- vation, learned the connection between the pump handle and his supply of fresh water. When the pan was empty and he felt thirsty he would seize the bandle and shake it repeatedly as well as he could. If this proceeding failed to attract the attention of any oue he would take the pan in his mouth and bang it violently against the pump. As he grew older he helped the boys about their farm work—or tried to-- and with very little training became a good cattle driver, never annoying the cows by barking in front of them, hut following them closely and pushing the stragglers gently to persuade them to rejoin their friends. When the door of the cow barn was opened it was the signal for him to go down the lane to the pasture and bring the cattle home. He was proud of his skill, having been praised repeatedly for it. One blazing July day a chance visitor opened the door. Bravo, lying in the shade, heard and saw. It was hours too early and he was loath to leave his comfort, but the call of duty must be obeyed, and away hesped. The cows were taking their comfort, too, some resting under the elms, some stand- ing knee-deep in the cold stream. Up they had come, one and all, most reluctantly, nprised and sun happy. Bravo never un- derstood why he got such a rating that afternoon. No other breed of dogs is more adaptable to changing conditions. Give him his friends and he is happy, whether hemmed in by the limitations of a city flat or free to roam over a hundred acres. White House Expenses. The President has securtd the transfer of his military aide and major domo at the White House to Buffalo, and thereby has magnified certain strictures upon his altera- tion of that historic mansion which other- wise would have been rated as petty and fit subject for mere jest. Now the people will hear what is the real cause of ecom- plaint, and what is not quite so insignifi- cant as at first blush it might appear, and that is the ruthless destruction of the fea- sures of a building that possessed many pe- culiar points of traditional interest with which modern society and its caprices bad nothing to do. : Colonel Bingham is accused of sending to Congress in due course of his official duties estimates for increased expenditures at the White House, and of explaining the need of larger appropriations by alluding to some removals and innovations. In fact no denial is entered of the acenracy either of his estimates or his reasons for their en- largement, but the President is offended at his frankness of exposure. Nobody would begrudge the presidential houvehold the latest modern conveniences, and it was somewhat wrong to omit the fact that par- tially the President discharges the cost of private entertainment from his own pocket, bus after all corrections, it remains a fact that expenses are doubled, and mainly be- cause the whims of the occupants of the Nation’s house have been too radical in re- moving the ancestral appointments, and they were superbly artistio and costly. In his letter Colonel Bingham called at- tention to the silver door knohs and the gilt hinges of the redecorated White House. He said that the new and costly plumbing would require the special services of an ex- pert; that the electrician would need an assistant to take care of the 2,200 incandes- cent lamps and the electrical dish warmer in the pantry, allusion to which was re- garded as an unnecessary advertisement of the facilities, of the mansion for enter- tainment. Colonel Bingham farther de- scribed the laundry as being increased, due to ‘‘the large family now in the White House,’’ and the ‘‘large amount of enter- tainment done hy the President, which in- creases the cost of table linen.”’ The demolition of the White House con- servatories meant hauling from a distance plants for the receptions at a cost of $2,000, and the purchase in the open markets of cut flowers, also for entertainments, at a cost of $1,500. The item for fuel was increased from $3,000 to $8,000. The total expenses’ for the nexs year were placed at $110,267, about double thoxe of the entire previous year.— Pittsburg Post. An Immense Organ. Remarkable Instrument Installed in the Seville Cathedral. The greatest organ in the world has just been installed in the Cathedral at Seville. It was built hy a Spaniard, Senor Aguilino Amezua, and is of truly gigantic dimen- sions. There are four metal flute stops, each 16 feet long, such as no other organ in Europe possesses. It is also the only organ which has bass-bourdons which give 32 vibrations a second and produce a deeper tone than the organ in Murcia, which has hitherto been the deepest-toned organ in the world. There are altogether. 200 independent stops and five bellows worked hy electric- ity. The cost was $32,000. 300,000 to be Vaccinated. The great prevalence of small-pox in the coke regions has prompted the officials of the H. C. Frick Coke company to issue an order calling for the free vaccination of all its employees and their families. As the company has about 50 000 men on its pay roll the order will effect about 300,000 per- sons, Ten thonsand dollars has been ex- pended in vaccine virus and contracts have been made with 50 doctors. Pneumonia. More Contagious Than Tuberculosis and Kills Move People. We wonder if the fact that patients and their friends ignore the contagiousness of pnenmonia is often due to professional negligence. An exaggerated conception of the contagiousness of tuberculosis is held by the lay word, but pneamonia is, of course, far more contagious. And patients and profession alike have not realized the new fact that the mortality of pueumonia is in some cities and parts of the country higher than tBat of tuberculosis. Dr. Rey- nolds, of Chicago. turns to this lesson and emphasizes the necessity of the follow- ing measures: Pneumonia is a highly contagious disease, the cause of which in a micro-organism in the sputa of those suffering from the mal- ady, and contracted hy inhaling this germ. Therefore, the same care should be taken to collect and destroy the sputa that is tak- en in pulmonary tuberculosis, or in diph- theria or influenza. During the illness the greatest pains should be taken to prevent soiling bed clothing, carpets or furniture with the spu- ta, and after the illness the patient’s room should be thoroughly cleansed and venti- lated. The fact that the disease is most preva- lent in the winter season, when people are most crowded together and live much of the time in badly veutilated apartments, makes obvious the necessity of thorough ventilation of houses, offices, factories, theatres, churches, passenger cars and oth- er public places, in order that the air which must be breathed may be kept clean and free from infectious matter. Laymen should be taught not to be afraid of a patient who has pneumonia, influenza or tuberculosis, but to be afraid of lack of cleanliness about him during his illness, of failure to enforce prophylactic measures and of close, badly ventilated apartments during the season when these diseases most prevail. Since pneumonia is moss fatal at the ex- tremes of life—the young and the aged— special care should be taken to guard chil- dren and old persons against exposure to the infection of those already suffering with the disease and against cold, priva- tion and exposure to the weather, which are potent, predisposing causes. Our Precious Metals. They Are not Gold and Silver, posed. as Generally Sup- What are your precious metals? ‘‘Gold and silver,”” you answer. That depends. If by preciousness is meant the value of the product in dollars and cents—our golden rule of measurement —then gold and silver are not the precious metals, according to the recently-issued report of the United States Geological Survey, which gives us the money value of the products wrested from the earth’s dark laboratory in 1901. The ‘gold, the precious yellow metal poured from nasure’s crucible in this land last year is valued at $78,000,000, and if to this we add the metal value of the silver we have $111,000,000. Bat what is that compared with the pig iron product of the same time, which is valued at $241,000,- 000? The iron produced is more precious than the gold and silver combined by $130,- 000,000. Modest copper, Indian-complexioned cop- per, can put the Oriental hued gold to the blash,for last year it enriched us in thesum of $87,000,000, $9,000,000 more than the value of the yellow metal. Even the base lead that was mined is one-third the value of the gold. When we get to the minerals used for structural purposes gold and silver are again distanced, for the building stone, clay, and cements that were launched by us into the channels of commerce in 1901 are valaed at $182,000,000. ‘I'he gold and silver produced in the same time was $7i,- 000,000 short of being enough to purchase shis output. : When we go a little deeper and measure the value of the coal, petrolenm, and natural gas that we purloined from beneath the fruitful breast of Mother Earth we find its value four times that of all the gold and silver taken from the same treasure house in the same sime. Gold and silver may dazzle us with their brightness and charm us with their nimble- ness, but in preciousness measured by worth of production and real usefulness they sink by their own gravity to the bot- tom of the list of minerals. Ear a Remarkable Organ. Consists of Five Thousand Pieces of Apparatus. The organ of hearing is one of the most marvelous pieces of mechanism in the body. In animals the external ear acts as a trampet to collect the sound waves. In man it is little more than an ornament. But the internal ear is alike in both. So wonderful is its construction, says London Tit Bits, that we can distinguish sounds varying from 40 to 4000 vibrations per second. This feat is performed by a por- tion of the ear called the organ of Corti. What a wonderful organ that is may be un- derstood from the fact that it consists of 5000 pieces of apparatus, each piece being made up of two rods, one inner hair cell and four outer hair cells—that is, 35,000 separate parts. In some mysterions man- per she rods with other things, are tuned to different notes and, when they vibrate, they cause the hair to transmit an impulse to the nerve of hearing. To be musical, sherefore, it isto have a good organ of Corti. Fishes bave no ears, or, rather, the canals are closed ; bus they hear through the bones of the head. The New Zealanders can al- moss hear the grass grow. Why is it that scratching a piece of glass with metal causes such an unpleasant sound ? Because it is what is called the fundamental tone of the ear, which is very high. Whas the fundamental tone exactly is would take too much space to explain. But if you blow across the mouth of a bos- tle, a hollow globe, etc., you ges its funda- mental sone. The ear is a deceptive organ, and it is often a master of guess work to tell whence a sound comes. Indeed, if you place the open hands in front of your ears and curve them backwards, sounds produced in front will appear to come from behind. ——Bishop Stephen M. Merill, D. D. L. D. D., of Chicago, will preside at the Cen- tral Pennsylvania conference at Altouna on March 25th. The conference promises to be full of interest, enthusiasm and spirit- ual vitality. Last year at Bellefonte there were 273 names on the conference roll, 20 absentees, 6 deceased and 1 transferred, thas making the total number present 246. --—What are you doing here,’ de- manded the irate farmer of the boy he had surprised in his chestnut grove. “Natting, sir,”’ replied the frank little chap.—Judge.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers