Bellefonte, Pa., September 4, 1903. WHEN LUCY GOES TO CHURCH. She sees what all the women wear, When Lucy goes to church; She learns how each has “‘fixed” her hair, When Lucy goes to church; She notices the fact if Tom’s with Sue, She sees exactlby what they do, And yet she hears the service through, When Lucy goes to Church. She sees each one who steals a doze, ‘When Lucy goes to church; Each laugh she hears—each blow of nose, When Lucy goes to church; T here’s method in her manner, meek, She gains foundation, so to speak, To keep her talking all the week, Vhen Lucy goes to church, —Kansas City Star. A DELAYED PROPOSAL. The last lantern in the thousands which festooned the campus had just been lighted ag Prescott entered near Grays and passed slowly through the yard. The fairy scene gave him a painful thrill of reminiscence. ‘‘Same old crowd,’’ he reflected, observ- ing carelessly the gay gowns of the women and the varied attire of their escorts. ‘‘Same old crowd, only this cap and gown business is rather new to me. Same oid crowd and the same old time, I suppose, for all the rest of them. What kids the seniors appear to he.”’ He sighed a little bitterly as he moved on toward Thayer. He was one of the few men in evening dress, and he had worn that under protest, feeling it to be still the genior’s right. Prescott had not attended Class Day since his own, ten years before, and he felt strangely old and out of place. A young cousin was doing the honors to-day, and he had come home to please the lad and to see, how it might feel to renew old associa- tions. He had conscientiously gone through the program and found himself to-night a bit sick at heart. “I didn’t know I was growing old,’”’ he muttered, ‘‘but the thrill has certainly de- parted from this sort of thing—I suppose because I'm not in it.”’ The exercises at the Statue had seemed strangely tame compared with his own memories of the valiant scrimmage in tramp like attire about the old Tree. What a handful of crimson blossoms he had won, and they had all gone to Her. But she bad not cared for them, though she thanked him so sweetly. He knew the fate of those wilted flowers. Where had she drifted to in all these years ? Had Williams made a good hus- band, he wondered. He would really like to know. Prescott suddenly became aware of the fact that. he was in front of Thayer, and he paused to look up a’ a row of familiar win- dows. They werc crowded now with maidens in rainbow-tinted gowns, and the Murmar of happy voices floated down to im. Prescott set his teeth and passed on. “I'll go over to Memorial,”” he thought, ‘‘and then take a look in at the ‘Gym,’ and after that I think I may be excused; this business is wearing and painful.”’ Memorial was filled with its usual throng of gay pleasure seekers, and the strains of a dreamy waltz floated down from the baicony. Prescott pushed his way through the crowd and made for the end of the hall. There was a certain dim out-of-door cor- ridor which he remembered well and he meant to have a look at it. Ten years be- fore he had been sitting there with a girl —with Her. She had promised to join the party in his room later to listen to the Glee Club. He had planned how his Class Day should be crowned. There was a special seat reserved for Her, and he had intended sharing it; but—why recall all the dismal business ? Another man had entered the paradise before it was secured to Prescott’s exclusive rights. Williams had appeared at the en- trance of that dim corridor, most evidently in search of some one, and She had arisen with entirely too great a show of eager- ness. ‘I promised him a dance,’’ she had said, and Williams, hearing her voice, had come forward. Prescott had scowled and re- marked that it was nearly nine; but his classmate had persisted; he would bring Miss Richards to Thayer in due season, he promised; and Prescott had turned away foolishly hurt and angry. Of course she had arrived too late to secure her seat, and. of course, Williams stayed to receive her emiles, and, of course, Prescott’s great day ended in anger and humiliation. He felt his heart stir with a sickening sense of failure as he entered the old cor- ridor to-night, and, for a fev moments, he did not notice that any one else was there. Then, as his eyes hecame accustomed to the dim light, he saw promenading men and maidens in the distance and a vacant seat in the very spot where he had sat with Her upon that eventful evening. At least he thought it was vacant until he had almost reached it;then he noticed a lonely feminine figure in one shadowy corner. Prescott paused. That was where She had sat, and, if he were not dreaming, there She was sitting now ! That slender figure, the drooping head and the hand upon which it rested—the whole careless, familiar pose came back to him with a vividness that hurt. ‘Mildred !"” He spoke the name invol- untarily, and the girl started and looked up. At that momenta pot of red fire set burning outside threw its searching light into the corridor and caught them both in its rosy glare. Prescott saw the face clear- ly and came nearer with outstretched hand. ‘It is yon !”’ he said. ‘For a momen T thought I had seen a ghost.” : She looked into his eyes with a wonder equal to his own. ‘Dick |” she faltered. ‘Dick Prescott.’ For a moment they both stood gazing at one another in pure astonishment, which gradually gave way to embarrassment. “I was just thinking—’’ she hegan, as she withdrew her hand. ‘So was I,” he agreed, and then paused, for suddenly he remembered, and mad joy was rapidly transformed to pain. He drew himself up a little stiffly. ‘‘How’s Williams ?’’ he asked. ‘‘Is he here to-night ?’’ : The red light had died out and he could no longer see her face, but he felt the tremor in her voice as she answered him. ‘Ned Williams ?”’ she queried. ‘‘Yes, he is here,I hope, and—and well.”’ There was a pause. ‘‘Did you not know that I broke my engagement to him—years ago ?’’ she ventured, at length, constrain- edly. ¢ “What 1"? cried Prescott, his head whirl- ing. “It was a mistake,’’ she said, coolly, *‘I found that out very soon—and he, too, of course. It was a piece; of youthful folly which we must both regret and ry to put away forever.” ‘Well, this is news,” exclaimed Pres- oott. His knees felt weak, and he dropped into the seat near her. ‘How isit I never heard, IT wonder.’ . His companion ‘smiled. “Did you ever take the trouble to in- quire about your old friends ?’’ she asked, a little bitterly. “I was a fool,’”’ muttered the man beside her, ‘‘a mad young fool. And there isn’t any oue else? You are still Mildred Rich- ards 2” ‘“Yes,”’ was the constrained reply. ‘‘Quite an old maid, Nell says.” Then she sat up and looked out into the hall. ‘It is a pretty sight, isn’t it ?’’ she said, lightly, ‘“‘even if it doesn’t thrill one the way it used to. The heat made my head ache, and I came here to rest while Nell is taking care of her partners.’’ Prescott felt a decided chill, but he was no longer a fool. “Did you?” he replied; ‘‘I came here to remember and to make myself miser- able. The fates are kinder to me than I deserve.”’ No response; so he followed her lead. ‘Is Nell old enough for Class Day festivi- ties ?”’ he asked. Miss Richards smiled. ‘‘She is twenty and the devoted friend of five seniors. I am here merely as chaperon. Mama is ill. I have not been in Cambridge before for a good many years.’ “Nor I,” he said, ‘‘I should not have come to-day but for the whim of a young cousin. Being here, I resolved to do the whole thing and see how it felt after ten years.”’ “It is the same, yet not the same,’’ mused the young woman beside him. *It is the same with a decided differ- ence,’’ declared Prescott; ‘‘at least it was. Why aren’t you dancing ?’’ he asked sud- denly. She shook her head. ‘‘Have you forgot- ten how todo sums in addition since you left college?’ she asked, gently. ‘‘I believe you just said that it was ten years since you were graduated. Our dancing days are over, aren’t they ?”’ ‘I am learning how to do sums in sub- traction at the present moment,’’ said Prescott, happily. ‘‘I am ten years younger than I was a quarter of an hour ago. Those past profitless years of homesick exile were only an uncomfortable dream, it seems. This is my Class Day, you know. I'm twenty-four,and a most ridiculously happy fellow if you’ll only come out and dance with me.”’ She laughingly shook her head. ‘‘Where is your cap and gown ?’’ she asked. ‘‘Cap and gown !’’ he cried, scornfully, “‘what do I want of such toggery? See, I am wearing evening clothes—the dress sacred to seniors upon their Class Day. You know that as well as I. Will you come ?”’ She still shook her head. ‘‘I do not dare,’’ she said. ‘‘Here in the shadow it is well enough for you to do sums in sub- straction; but out there it would be differ- ent. Iam not twenty now, and this isn’t my first Class Day.”’ He bent nearer, scanning her face in the dim light. “I don’t believe it,”’ he said. °‘‘I knew you the minute I saw you, and you are wearing the same drab muslin—*’ “Drab ! It was a lovely pearl color; and this isn’ muslin; it’s dimity. But it is gray,’’ she concluded, pleased, no doubt, at his tangled memory. Prescott laughed. ‘‘A man can’t be ex- pected to match colors; but I still swear that you are twenty. Come !”’ She arose reluctantly and went out wish him into the hall as the orchestra began to play again. “Our waltz!” Prescott exclaimed, and the next moment they were a part of the dreamy moving mass. Her eyes were down-cast, but his rested with open satis- faction upon her face. It certainly showed no signs of age. She was a little paler, perhaps; the corners of the mouth had a slight downward droop, the thoughtful lines had deepened here and there; the grace of maturity had replaced the promise of girlhood. But Prescott did not notice details. He was chiefly con- scious of the fact that she was waltzing with him and that he was ecstatically hap- py. A sudden mad determination had seized him. He would live his Class Day evening over again—Ilive it as he pleased. As the music ceased they paused at last, and the young woman ventured to glance up at her partner. Her face was flushed with the exercise and her eyes were merry. “I thought I had forgotten how,’’ she said, somewhat breathlessly. ‘‘Forgotten at twenty !’’ he replied,glad of the chance to look in her eyes, but they fell suddenly before his glance. ‘Let us go out in the yard,”’ he said; ‘‘where is your wrap?’ ‘Oh, I mustn’t,’”’ said his companion, quickly. ‘‘Nell will be looking for me. I told her I would stay there in the corridor. Let us go back.” Prescott frowned. ‘‘Isn’t there some kindly chaperon to whom you can turn over your duties?’’ he asked. ‘‘There must be.” His manner was compelling, and the girl who had spoiled his Class Day ten years before seemed unable to resist the appeal. She at last bethought her of a comfortable matron who with a cheerful resignation was sitting at the end of the hall awaiting the pleasure of three fair daughters, and to her she gave over the charge of the popular Nell. One girl more or less to wait for made little difference, and the lady nodded cordially with a sidelong glance at Miss Richard’s commanding partner. said, as they moved away, ‘‘I haven’t seen Nell for an hour, and perbaps I shall not until it is time to go.”’ Outside the building, Prescott drew her arm through his. ‘‘I observe that the girl of to-day prefers to walk alone,” he re- marked, ‘‘but this isn’t to-day,and I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.” The moon had arisen to crown the festival, and its soft light beamed gently through the tall elms, For the first time the young woman turn- ed her gaze to her companion’s face and studied it gravely. He knew that she was looking at him and was happy in the thought, and he did not shrink from the quiet scrutiny. It was certainly her right. He wondered if she found him greatly changed. He believed that he was getting a little gray about the temples, and,doubt- less, his face had lost its boyish good looks, but he breathed a quick prayer of gratitude that at least she need read nothing base there. Strange that she had asked no question as to the years since he had seen her last. It never occurred to him that she had, perhaps, kept more closely in touch with his life than he had with hers. “Well 2”’ he said, at last, smiling hap- pily down upon her, ‘‘are you ready to pass judgment upon the prodigal ?”’ “Don’t 1’ she oried softly; “I never thought that; you know I didn’t.” ‘Not that it matters much,’”’ Mildred: “Is it all right 2’ he asked. ‘‘Will yon ‘play with me,’ as the children say ? You —pardon me, but yon played against me on that other Class Day, yon know. Will you ‘pay up’ now by making this one jolly 2? Hie mirth was contagious,and she laugh- ed back in sudden surrender. ‘Yes,’ she said, impulsively, ‘‘I’ll play. Let’s be children again just for to-night.’’ So he drew her hand closer within his arm, and they séarted on their adventures. First they peeped in at the ‘‘Gym,’’ but it was too crowded for comfort; then they went over to the yard and strolled about in the crowd, two of the most light-hearted in is. Through the windows they caught glimpses of busy waiters clearing away the remnants of spreads that bad been; other darkened windows were filled with laugh- ing girls; the bands were playing; the festoons of lanterns swung slightly in the gentle breeze. The moon smiled affably down upon the pretty scene. Prescott and the lady who clung to his arm sought a seat in the farther portion of the yard, and there they talked comfort- ably of many things, or rested in long, delicious silences. ‘Really, there’s nothing like Class Day, after all,’” Prescott declared, at last; and his companion nodded. “Yet it seemed very dull this afternoon, ’’ she observed. ‘‘Just walking round and round and round, wiih tobacco smoke in the air and a ceaseless murmur of voices. The lights and music and all make a great difference.”’ “So they do,”” said Prescott, smiling. Then he looked at his watch. ‘‘Nearly nine,”’ he said; ‘‘we must go out where we can hear the concers.”’ As they moved down toward Thayer, Prescott had a sudden inspiration. He looked up at the old windows a moment, and then he led his companion boldly in at the doorway. ‘‘Where are you going ?°’ she asked, sur- prised. “To the old room, of course,”’ he said, briefly ; ‘‘this is our Class Day,you know.” They had reached the door of the room, and Miss Richards drew back. ‘‘There are people here,” she said. ‘‘Do you know them ?"’ Prescott turned laughing eyes upon her. ‘Know the people in my own room?’ he said. ‘‘Wait here a moment and I'll show oun.”’ He walked straight to a certain window where a senior was sitting with a pretty girl in pink. Prescott laid his hand on the young man’s shoulder. ‘‘Pardon me,” he began, ‘‘I baven’t the pleasure of your acquaintance, but I recognize you as a man and a brother and a son of old Harvard. I want to ask a favor. May I borrow the use of this window-seat for the space of half an hour?” The senior frowned a little, feeling that this handsome graduate was making sport of him. Prescott smiled. ‘This used to he my room, you gee,’’ he went on, by way of ex- planation, ‘“‘and I missed keeping a very special engagement in this window-seat just ten years ago to-night. Well, miracu- lously, I bave the chance to try my luck again. The’’—with a glance at the pretty girl in pink—*‘the case is desperate or I wounldn’t ask the favor. I think you un- derstand.”’ The senior arose quickly, a sympathetic grin lighting his countenance. ‘‘Don’t mention it,”’ he said, ‘‘we were about to leave. Pray accept my good wishes.” The pretty girl smiled shyly, also, and they moved away. A few moments later, the young woman who shouid have occupied that corner ten years before was leaning back among the cushions of the window-seat, and the man who was reliving his Class Day sat com- fortably ensconced in the opposite corner congratulating himself on his quick witand diplomacy. The gas was turned low, but he could still see the furnishings of the room. “‘Same old place,” he murmured ; ‘‘same fool things around. Oh, college life is great, after all !”’ The young woman who leaned against the cushions sighed softly. ‘‘Would you like to go back ?”’ she asked, a little wist- fully. *‘Yes,” he said, ‘‘or perhaps, after all, it 1d be better to go forward—that is—?’ “ aere comes the Banjo Club,’ she in- terrupted him: “‘I wish it were the Glee Club instead.” “Sodo I,” he assented. ‘‘It was the Glee Club ten years ago—but I didn’t en- joy it then. Do you know why ?”’ “Didn’t they sing well ?”’ she asked of him, innocently. Prescott leaned forward a little that he might better see her sweet face. Little soft tendrils of hair stirred about her forehead, and the long lashes touched her cheeks. There were other people in the next win- dow, but their own murmuring voices made them deaf to his words. “Will you let me tell you all I remem- ber about it ?*’ he asked, and his voice had lost the bantering tone. It was grave and low, and his eyes rested steadily on her face. ‘Yes,’ she said, softly. ‘You may remember,’’ he began, ‘‘I asked you to come here and listen to the Glee Club with me. I had saved this seat for you, and because the old room meant so much to me, I wanted to tell you, just here, of all the love a bhoy’s heart could hold; I hoped that in this place you would make my Class Day perfect.’’ His voice faltered a little, but she did not move or raise her eyes. “Well, you know how it ended,’”’ he went on. ‘‘You sent me off at Memorial and came here so late I could nof in de- cency hold the place for youn; and Williams came with you—"'’ ‘Oh, don’t!” murmured the girl, pain- fully. “I must,’’ said Prescott, firmly. ‘You came with Williams and never noticed my disappointment or the glance I gave you when the fellows sang that grand old thing that ends in the Wedding March—I forget the name. You had done with me I saw, and when you went away you left on the floor there the flowers I had risked my neck to get for you.”” ie She put out her hand with a low hurt cry, but he went on relentlessly. ‘“When I was alone I lighted some pa- pers in the grate over yonder and threw the flowers on the blaze. They burned up as quickly as my poor little hopes had done. So ended my great day. After that I soon heard of your engagement and then —I went away.”’ He paused a moment, and when he wens on the painful note had vanished from his voice. ‘Well, I have told youn of my ups and downs in all the years since then,’’ he said. ‘‘What I am most concerned with now is the present moment. I came back to renew my youth, it seems. Thanks to you, I have spent an evening that was al- most perfectly happy.’ He smiled at her contentedly. ‘‘You bave made me quite believe in the little game we have been playing,” he said. ‘‘I know now that a man need not grow old if he is happy.” He leaned against the casing and looked out across the yard. The flickering gas jets on Holworthy had mistaken the year they celebrated, he was sure. Then he bent toward the silent figure opposite, ‘“‘Mildred,’’ he said, ‘‘muss it end to-night for us? Why can’t we stay young, you and I?” She bad drawn off her gloves, and one white band lay on the sill. He covered it with his own. ‘Mildred !”’ he said, again. She lifted her eyes to his, and he saw that they were wet. “‘Can you forgive is—that other day ?” she faltered. ‘‘I did not know—you cared 80. That was why I made the mistake about him—about Ned Williams, I mean. I tried to—like him. But—I wanted those flowers you burned—poor Dick !” She drew back into the shadow and turn- ed her face against a friendly cushion, and Prescott arose suddenly and stood beside ber. His arm slipped around the drooping shoulders and, with one quick glance about him and to make sure of an unobservant public, he stooped and kissed her. ‘‘Who cares now !"” he whispered.—By Kate Whiting Patch, in the Delineator. Kerosene and What It Willi Do for Us, The kerosene can is not a thing of beauty neither is it suggestive of strength, yet itis one of the most valuable of the housewife’s allies. A spoonful of kerosene added to the basin of water in which the windows are to be washed makes them beautifully clear and easy to polish, while at the same time it repels flies and mosquitoes. If screen doors and windows are thoroughly brushed and freed from dust, then wiped over with kerosene, they will look as good as new, while mosquitoes, flies and moth millers will give them a wide berth as long as any trace of the odor remains. If, as is frequently the case even in the best regulated families, the beds become in- fested with occupants that do not belong there they may be exterminated by a free use of kerosene. If one has a careless neighbor, as isapt to be the case in an apartment house, baseboards, window sills and the springs of the beds should be wip- ed off with oil at least once a week as a pre- ventive. Applied liberally about the kitchen sink, boiler and pipes, cockroaches and water bugs may be defied even in an old house. For wagon grease or tar spots rub well with kerosene while the grease is fresh, then wash out in cold, soft water, using no 80ap. Kerosene will remove ink stains and fresh paint, while nothing takes out blood stains better than cold soapsuds, to which kerosene has heen added. Irons that have been put away sticky should be well scraped with a thin knife. then rubbed with a rough cloth, moistened in kerosene. A spoonful of kerosene in boiled starch keeps it from sticking, but do not use enough to make it smell of the oil. Nothing equals kerosene for cleaning porcelain bathtubs. The ugly black streak around the sides that requires such vigor- ous rubbing when only soap and water is used disappears as by magic when wiped with a soft cloth, moistened with kero- sene. Common kerosene is excellent in clean- mg bardwood or stained floors. Sweep carefully and dust before applying the oil. Use only a small quantity at a time, wiping a small space, then rubbing the oil up with a soft, absorbent flannel cioth. Body Found, but No Money. Keys Went to New York to Bet $2,800 on Yacht Race. William Keys, son of Thomas Keys, of Tunkhannock, Pa., went to New York last week with $2,800 in his possession to bet on the vacht race. Word was received Wednesday that his body was found in the river in New York and that no money was found on his per- son. He hasa wife and six children at Corning, N.Y. The body of Keys was found on Sunday afternoon floating in the North river off the foot of Rutgers’ street. Charles Chisney, a watchman, saw what appeared to him to be a human foot floating in the distance, and getting into a rowhoat, went out to if. What he had seen proved to be Key’s cork leg. The man was entirely dressed, and there were no marks of violence on his body. : The autopsy showed that the man had come to his death through drowning. In his pockets were found two receipts made out to W. H. Keys, which led to the iden- tification of the body. He bad only a few small coins in his pockets. Dimensions of the Panama Canal. The total length of the canal, from deep water in the Atlantic to deep water in the Pacific, is forty-nine and nine-tenth miles, eleven miles of which distance is the broad channel of Lake Bohio. The total cost of construction of the entire canal is estimat- ed at $144,233,358, to quote from the fig- ures given by Mr. North Overton Messen- ger. The sharpest curves of the narrow channel has a radius of 6232 feet, so that the alignment may be considered good. The commission has estimated the time re- quired for vessels to pass through the canal —a period which, of course, will vary with the size of the vessel and with the volume of the traffic. A ship of average size—400 feet long, 50 feet beam, and drawing 243 ft —meeting an ordinary number of other ships will require about eleven hours and fourteen minutes to pass through the canal. Life After Death. A German biologist has been investigat- ing the question of the activity of animal bodies after death, and bas published some suggestive conclusions. It appears that death is not instantaneous throughout the physical organism, for it has heen observed that many of the different tissues continue aotive for a considerable period after the time when the animal is assumed to be dead, particularly in the case of the lower animals. Cells from the brain of a frog, for example, have been kept alive for over a ‘week when held in certain solutions, and the heart of a frog has been known to beat for many hours after being removed from the dead body. The hearts of turtles and snakes will beat for days, or even a week, after death.— Harper's Weekly. Clever George. “Why is Emily so anxious to hurry up her wedding day ?”’ ‘She told me George was the anxious one.’’ “George ! Why George said he’d wait for ber any length of time—no matter how long it was.” “Did he?” ‘Yes. He said he’d wait for her seven years, and if that wasn’t enough he’d wait seven years longer.” “Clever George. Of course that was just the way to make Emily determine that she’d marry him at once.’’-Cleveland Plain Dealer. A —— Clarion School “Rake Off.” Senator Neely Tells of His Part in the Transaction. The normal school investigating commit- tee met at Clarion on Friday. Ex-Senator Mitchell being in California at the G. A. R. encampment, there was no one but Sen- ator A. M. Neely to give evidence. Not being on oath, many of the questions ask- ed of him he declined to answer. His story of the ‘‘rake off’ is as follows: In May, 1901, James Pinks, registrar, Professor A. J. Davie, representative; J. A. Hoy, Dr. John Shirley, trustee, and Sena- tor Neely met in Shirley’s office and dis- cussed the matter of an appropriation, and when the matter of expenses was mention- ed the remark was made hy some one that that would be taken care of. When asked as to what he did in arranging for the ap- propriation, Neely declined to answer, say- 10g his statement was published in a Phila- delphia paper in August, 1902. When asked if that statement was correct or not he answered ‘‘Not entirely,”” but declined to state in what it was wrong. Neely went on to state that he was nev- er promised any money or never received any ; he admitted he received a ‘‘hurry up’ letter from Senator Mitchell, and to have shown it to Professor Davis and Pinks. He said Professor Davis told him to have noth- ing to do with it, while Pinks told him the matter would be taken care of. He said as he understood things at Harrisburg, from rumors and observation, he believed it was necessary to pay the money. He said it was generally rumored that other schools and institutions had to pay from 10 to 15 per cent, and that Grove City bad to pay 25 per cent, because it was not a state institu- tion and was not entitled to an appropria- tion. He said that he told Representative Hoy that be believed they could not get the appropriation without paying the rake- off, and that he said it would be all right. He also said that in talking with ex-Sena- tor Mitchell, Senator Mitchell told him that it was costing all schools from 10 to 15 per cent. After hearing Mr. Neely, the committee adjourned until September 9th, when ex- Senator Mitchell will be given a chance to give his views on the subject. Vesuvius Barsts in Flery Flood. Opens a Thousand Feet Below Central Cone and 8ends Out Streams of Lava— Effect is -Seen From Naples. The people of Naples and its environs witnessed a remarkable spectacle at noon on Wednesday of last week. One thou- sand feet below the central cone of Vesu- vias the volcano opened like a huge mouth, out of which belched a fiery stream of lava, which ran down the side of the mountain and at first seemed to menace the observatory. This building, however, is protected in the direction of the stream by a mound of lava two hundred feet high, which was thrown out during the erup- tions of 1895 and 1900. The eruption occurred without any warn- ing whatever. There was no earthquake, detonation or rain of ashes, nothing but a clear stream of lava and red hot stones, which were thrown to a height of seven hundred feet, producing an extremely beautiful effect seen from Naples. The stream of lava, which is fifteen feet kroad, at 11 o’clock at night had covered a distance of 2,700 feet. It deviated later from the direction of the observatory, which is no longer menaced. The only danger is for the new electric tramway up the volcano, which, however, has thus far not been touched. The eruption already seems to be decreasing, apd it is heped that no damage will result from it. The spectators far enough away not be frightened stood entranced at the spectacle, but those nearer to the volcano were seized by panic when the eruption began and rushed down the sides of the mountain and from the adjacent country to the vil- lage of Portici and of Resina, which is built over the ruins of Herculaneum. The alarm in these villages was somewhat quieted by the mayors issuing notices de- claring that there was no danger, and ex- horting the people to remain calm. The chief of police of Naples has gone personally to make a tour of the villages around Vesuving in order to assure the peasants and superintend any measures of protection which may be deemed necessary. The superstitious lower classes are agitat- ing for the expulsion of Prof. Krall, of Munich, who predicted the eruption, de- claring that be has the ‘‘evil eye.”’ Endorses Wallace’s Circus. In the great scrap book of press notices kept by the Great Wallace Shows may he found many unique and original press no- tice which makes interesting reading. Perhaps one of the most original comments because of its approval of the big show, is the following taken from the Daily Journal of Hannibal, Mo.: ‘‘Some years ago a bald-headed member of the Missouri Legislature from the South- eastern section of the State introduced a bill to compel circuses toshow everything advertised. ‘“This honest statesmen evidently did not have the Wallace’s Circus in mind when he prepared his bill, judging from the great entertainment given by that great combination in this city yesterday. “The promises on the big, flaming bills were great, but every promise was fulfilled and more. ‘‘The parade, to: start with, astonished everybody. It was immense. And then the menagerie was complete, and there was no kick coming from ticket holders. The big show came fully up to expectation. To particularize would require a page. Every act was applauded. The Journal's advice is: when you get within reach of the Wallace’s Circus, go and get your money’s worth.” The great Wallace Shows will exhibit in Bellefon te on Tuesday Sept. 8th. Farmer’s National Congress. Governor Pennypacker last Thursday appointed forty-eight delegates to the Farmer’s National congress, to be held at Niagara Falls September 22nd, Among those appointed were: R. H. Thomas, Mechanicsburg; John Hamilton, State Col- lege; W. H. Brosius, Lancaster; Colonel J. M. Woodward, State College; W. T. Creasy, Catawissa; Thomas V. Cooper, Media; Thomas W. Montgomery, Hunting- don; Thomas K. Beaver. Academia; N. D. Critchfield,Critohfield; J. C. Sibley,Frank- lin; George G. Hutchinson, Warriorsmark. Dynamite Blows Up Express Train. The east bound daily express from Buda Pest to Constantinople was blown up near Kuleli Burgas, about 25 miles south of Adrianople early last Thursday. Seven persons were killed and fifteen injured. Dynamite bombs were used. Every car wae smashed. Apparently the outrage was the work of the revolutionists who traveled on the train. A Wonderful Trotter. Lou Dillon Goes a Mile on Readville Track in Two Minutes Flat. World's Record is Beaten. READVILLE, Mase., Angust 24.—Before a great crowd of spectators at Readville to- day and with track and weather conditions perfect, Lou Dillon trotted a mile in two minutes, a new world’s record. So that no breeze might interfere, Mil- lard Sanders, driver of the great mare, brought out the daughter of Sidney Dillon for the attempt early in the day. For pace makers there were two running horses hitched to road carts, Peggy from Paris, driven by ‘‘Doc’’ Tanner, and Carrie Nation, driven by Scott McCoy. The first score was fruitless, Lou Dillon making a break just before reaching the wire. On the second attempt, however, the word was given, though starting judge Walker rang his bell, but Tanner nodded him to say ‘‘go’’ and, turning to Sanders, called to him tocome along. Tan- ner kept Peggy from Paris directly in front of the peerless chestnut trotter, while Mec- Coy lay at her wheel. In this way trio went to the quarter pole in thirty and one- quarter seconds. With never a skip Lou Dillon went so smooth-gaited down the back stretch as to lead those not timing the mile to believe that her speed was not alarming fast. The half was clicked off in 1:00f. Around the turn to the three-quar- ters pole the clip quickened, the third quarter being in 30} seconds, making that mark of her journey in 1:31. Faster and faster came Tanner with the runner and right with him trotted the handsome Cali- fornia bred mare. Sanders was sitting per- fectly still, but McCoy was erying aloud to his runner to cheer on Lou Dillon. To the amazement of all the quarter was driven in twenty-nine seconds, thus mak- ing the mile in the wonderfnl time of two minutes. 1 Wheu Sanders jogged the mare back to the wire, those who had witnessed the per- formance leaped to their feet and sent forth cheers Lou Dillon apparently was as fresh as though she had only been out for a jog- ging exercise. Torepo, O., August 24.—George H. Ketcham, owner and driver of Crescens, upon being informed by the Associated Press, of Lou Dillon’s wonderful mile sent the following telegram : ‘George K. Billings, Readville, Mass.: I congratulate you on the wonderful per- formance of your mare. Cresceus transfers the crown to good hands. [Signed] ‘GEORGE H. KETCHAM.’’ ‘Twould be a Great Railroad. When Built Would Connect Hudson Bay With South America. GUTHRIE, Okl.,, Aug. 24.—Plans for a gigantic railroad with a trunk line con- necting Hudson bay with Bristish Colum- bia and extending to Buenos Ayres, South America,and having a network of branches, was disclosed to-day when articles of in- corporation of the American railroad com- pany with a capital stock placed at $250,- 000,000 were filed here with the secretary of the territory. The purpose of the cor- poration, it is said, is to build a line of railway extending from Port Nelson, Hud- son bay, in a southerly direction, orossing the line of the Canadian Pacific near Win- nipeg, Manitoba. through North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas,Oklahoma and Indian territory to Galveston, Texas, from Galveston through the Republic of Mexico to the boundary line of Central America, through the United States of Columbia to Ecuador, and finally through the Republic of Peru to Buenos Ayres on the Atlantic ocean. Also a branch line be- ginning in the Republic of Peru and ex- tending in a southeasterly direction through Brazil to Rio de Janeiro; also a branch line beginning in the Republic of Peru and ex- tending in a southerly direction through Chili, to Valparaiso, on the south Pacific ocean. The estimated cost of the Pan-American railway is $250,000,000 and the estimated length 10,000 miles. Curtin Statue Arrives. PHILADELPHIA, Aug. 22.—A bronze statue of Andrew G. Curtin, the War Gov- ernor of Pennsylvania, which is the work of Michael Ezekiel, an American artist temporarily residing in Italy, bas arrived at the custom house, in bond, from Rome. It was brought to New York on the Ital- ian steamship Umbria and shipped to Phil- adelphia. Efforts are being made to have it admitted free of duty because it is the work of an American artist. The statue is to be placed on the Smith Memorial in Fairmount Park. It is said to be a correct likeness of the noted Penn- sylvanian. Woman Aeronaut Fell on Him. Now William Wheeler Sues the $20,000 Damages. County for Because Clara Rasmussen, an aeronaut, who gave an exhibition at Fort Dodge, Ia., on July 4th, fell from a high altitude striking and terribly injuring him, William ‘Wheeler has brought suit for $20,000 dam- ages against Webster county. The girl was killed by the fall, and a coroner’s jury formally accused her em- ployers of having been responsible for the accident, because of having provided im- perfect tackle. The employers of the girl swore that she deliberately made the fatal plunge for the purpose of committing suicide as a result of disappointment in love. The county will attempt to prove this theory in de- fending the damage suit while at the same time attempting to disprove it in the crim- inal trial. Lightning Killed Boy at Table. Just as Joseph Shrum, and his family of eight sat down to dinner in their home, just west of Derry recently a bolt of light- ning struck the house, tearing out one side of it and completely wrecking the interior. Eyervone seated around the dinner table was knocked flat on the floor, but all es- caped with slight injuries except Lawrence, who was killed. There was not a scratch on his entire body, but death had been in- stantaneous. He bad just returned home from attending the funeral of James Kuhn, a young railroad brakeman, who had been killed at Kittanning Point recently, and who had been a friend of Lawrence. The house was a total wreck. ——*‘I am sorry to hear your unfortunate nephew has been closed out by the sheriff,’ said the friend of the family. ‘‘Have you any idea what his liabilities are?’’ ‘‘Yes, I’ve an idea he’s liable to call on me fur help about the fust thing he does,”’ responded Uncle Silas.— Chicago Tribune. Nothing Impossible. Some men are like razors ; it’s impossi- ble to tell how sharp they may be until they are strapped.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers