Bellefonte, Pa., October 2, 1903.
Bl ti ===. —————————————————————————
4IS FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL.
She lost her little boy to-day :
Her eyes were moist and sweet
And tender, when he went away
To hurry down the street.
She stood there for the longest while
And watched and watched him; then
She said—and tried to force a smile—
“He'll not come back again.”
Inside the house, her tears would come.
She sank into a chair
And sobbed above the battered drum
And trumpet lying there.
The sunshine stole into the place—
It only made her sad
With thinking of the pretty grace
His baby tresses had.
She minded all his little ways :
She went to see his crib
Up in the attic ; then to gaze
At platter; spoon and bib.
And all the trinkets he had thought
So fair to look upon—
Each one of them this murmer brought :
“My little boy has gone.”
She wandered through the house all day,
To come on things he’d left.
And O, she missed his romping play
And felt herself bereft !
When he came home, with shining eyes,
To tell of school’s delight.
She kissed and held him motherwise
With something of affright.
This is the pain in mothers’ hearts
When school days have begun;
Each knows the little boy departs
And baby days are done :
Eabh mother fain would close her ears
And hush the calling bell,
For somehow, in its tone she hears
The sounding of a knell.
—Chicago Tribune.
Sm ———————
A CURE FOR WORRY.
Electa Dunbam was one of the most in-
spiring women I ever knew. It was her
indomitable good cheer that made her so
inspiricg, and the secret of her good cheer
was, as she was always free to confess, that
she never had horne in her life—nor meant
to hear—a mite of trouble that she had nos
really had, or that other folks hadn’t had
—for half the ills of the village rested easily
upon her broad shoulders. ‘‘It’s troubles
that don’t ever come near you that wear
you out,’’ she would say.
Juss to look at Electa Dunham did one
good. She was large and solidly built,
with a large, solid, sweet-natured face, a
large, pleasant nose and gray eyes that
sparkled gaily when she talked.
Sts had buried her husband and several
sons. She was poor and had hard work to
keep her farm. She did not know to a
certainty whether her old age would be
provided for. She had, moreover, a chron-
io ailment from which she bad much to
dread. II, however, in my intense interest
for her, I let fall the least word that show-
ed that I was not as care-free about her as
she was about herself, she would laugh
comfortably. Her laugh—more a chuckle
in reality than a laugh—was the most con-
tagious thing to which I ever listened.
“Now don’t you go to getting like Cor-
nelia,’’ she would say. ‘‘One worrier sit-
ting around is enough. Wait till we get
there ! Wait till we get there ! Ihaven’t
ever been to the front door, yet, to leta
worry in, and Inever am going to. They’ve
got to come round to the back and climb
in the buttery window for themselves, so
be they get in at all.”’
Cornelia, the only one of her daughters
left at home—the others bad married
strugglingly, and in addition to all her
other cares, she had to ‘‘pull ’n haul
them,’’ as she expressed it, through every
household emergency—was the strangest
contrast to her mother. Weak-eyed and
bent, cadaverous and shrinking, at thirty
she look all of fifty. Mentally she was a
greater contrast still. Worry, worry,
worry ! From morning to night, how that
woman did worry ! Her forehead was al-
ways puckered, her lips drawn, and her
soul in a ferment. She must have inherit-
ed her disposition from some forlorn ances-
tress on her father’s side.
“It’s those Danhams,’’ Mrs. Electa con-
fided to me'once. ‘‘Barring Stephen, they
were a poor spirited lot, if I say it as
shouldn’t. Good ? Land, yes ! they were
good—good as Job, and just about as com-
forting 1’
One antumn as I was leaving Mrs. Dan-
ham, not to see her again until the follow-
ing summer, she remarked to me with her
irresistible chuckle : *‘By the time you
get round again, I am going to have Cor-
nelia cured of worrying—plump cured, out
and out !”’
My face must have expressed my aston-
ishment and incredulity, even my alarm.
I could not see how, without taking Cor-
nelia apart and putting her together again,
upon altogether new lines, so ingrained a
fault was to be eradicated.
‘On, I ain’t goin’ to do anything to her,
leastway nothing to hurt,’” she chuckled
again, in answer to my look; ‘‘just you
wait and see.”’
I was never so surprised by anything in
my lifeas I was hy my first glimpse of
Cornelia the following summer. She had
grown to look like her mother. I had
never noticed the slightest resemblance be-
fore. The lines of her face and figure had
filled out, She held herself erect. Her
expression was placid: She was, what I
had never dreamed that she had it in her
to become, a comely, wholesome, attrac-
tive-looking young woman. The mental
change was equally great. The lines of
her mind seemed to have filled out like
those of her body. A latent sense of humor
(formerly I would as soon have looked for
humor in a cow) had developed itself. I
realized with a sense of keen pleasure, that
Cornelia was no longer to he a dullback-
ground for Mrs. Electa’s and my enjoyment
of each other. We were to be three boon
companions for the future. Over my sup-
per that evening, I all but choked three or
four times at some dry, quick, telling rep-
artee that she made to her mother’s gen-
eralities.
What had happened ? Was she going to
be married ? Sometimes that sort of hap-
piness coming into a colorless life will re-
juvenate it. After tea, I wandered into
the front parlor, with Mrs. Eleota at my
heels. I was not fond of the front parlor;
I merely wanted to go through the dear,
queer old house from garret to cellar and
make sure it was all there, just as I had
left it.
The first thing that my eyes fell upob,
exactly in the middle of the ingrain car-
pet, the ‘three ply,’’ that covered the par-
lor floor, was a bushel basket, and, close
beside it, two large, cheap, gaudy vases—
ground glass they were—with magenta
roses painted upon them. I all but fell
over them. Their position was most pre-
carious. One had to go out of one’s way
to avoid them.
‘“‘Whatever,”’ I exclaimed, in my sur-
prise, ‘‘are those things doing there ?’’
“Oh, those,” Mrs. Eleota chuckled,
‘those are the cure for worry. Cornelia
keeps ’em there so she won’t forget she’s
cared.”
She said no more. I felt as balked in
my curiosity as the man did who badgered
his seat-mate on the cars to tell him how
he had lost his leg, until he extorted from
him the information that ‘‘ ’T was bit off,”
and could extort no more.
Moreover, she had so much to tell me, as
she followed me about, of her daughters
and her grandchildren—three new ones
during the winter—and of the neighbors,
that she could not stop.
Later in the evening, however, as we
were sitting on the grass of the fronts door
yard, sheltered from the dew by the trees,
my curiosity, that was still eating me up,
got the better of me. Cornelia was in the
back kitchen ‘‘putting the bread to raise.”
“Will you tell me,’”’ I demanded, ‘‘what
that bushel basket and those ground-graes
urns on the parlor floor bave to do with
Cornelia’s worrying ?”’
“I's her not worrying they’ve got todo
with,’ Mrs. Electa responded. And then
she gurgled with delight, over something
that was in her mind. For fully balf a
minute, she gurgled before proceeding on
her conversational way. If I could only
ges her started ! She was as hard to start
and as hard to stop when once started as
one of Walter Scott’s romances.
‘Well, I’ll tell yom,” she began, at
length. ‘Maybe you might want to cure
somebody yourself some day, and I don’t
hold with keeping remedies secret that’s
been tried and you know are going to
work.”’
“To begin at the beginning, I bought
those two vases with the egg money and I
put ’em down along with the bushel bask-
et where you saw them, spang in the mid-
dle of the parlor floor. I took Cornelia in
and I showed them to her, the first day I
got them.
¢ ‘Now, Cornelia,’ I said to her, ‘those
things are going to set there right where
they be, till you get rid of what’s ruining
your life in this world and making you so
you won’t have any power to enjoy what's
waiting for you in the next. You wouldn’t
more ’n get set down up in heaven before
you'd begin worrying about something.
You’d shink your wings was a size too big,
or’'you’d begun to moult, You’d find
something to worry about if you had to
hunt for it on your hands and knees.’
‘“Then I explained to her what I was go-
ingtodo. I was going to watch the
wrinkle between her eyes that was getting
as deep and as set as an old woman’s of
eighty. I wasn’t going to take my eyes off
is. Every time I saw it tying itself up
into bow-knots, I was going to ask her
pointblank what ’twas she was worrying
about and she'd got to speak up and tell
me, in so many words. Then she’d got to
take a pen and paper—Cornelia never was
any kind for writing; yon know; she can
do it and do it correct; she could teach
school for that matter, but it comes like
hoeing corn to her—and write out word
for word just exactly what she’d been tell-
ing me. Then she’d got to fold up what
she’d written and put it in an envelope,
and carry it into the front parlor and put
it into one of those ground-glass vases, the
first one that she come to, next to the
door, and leave it there in the presence of
the Lord and see what come of it in the
end.
“Folks were commanded, so I told her,
to spread everything out that was on their
minds before the Lord. Most generally
they did it on their knees, but ’twas best
for her, I considered, to do it on paper.
“Twould pin things down to where she
could get a realizing sense of ‘em.
‘She could go on writing out her wor-
ries and putting them into the vase next to
the door till ’twas full, I told her, and
then she'd got to sit down and read them
over, the whole vase full, from beginning
to end, and separate them into two piles,
the ones that had come to something and
the ones that hadn’t. Those that had
come to something, she was to put into the
other vase, the one that was furthest from
the door; those that hadn’t she was to put
in the bushel basket.
“Tt went against Cornelia terrible, the
idea of baving the front parlor all littered
up with her worries that way. I knew
‘would. I hadn’t laid awake nights plan-
ning and devising something that would
really take hold of her, for nothing.”
“Well,” and here Mrs. Electa was in-
terrupted by another fit of chuckling,
‘‘there was doings for the next few months,
I do assure you. :
“No sooner would I see that line, deep-
ening and drawing itself up between her
eyes than I would make her stop, right
short off, no matter what she was doing—
bakin’ pies or settin’ the table for dinner;
sometimes ’twould be in the midst ofa
terrible flurry, everything to be done and
no time to do it in. Once she was getting
ready for the church sociable, and I made
her git down right where she was, one shoe
off and the other shoe on, and tell me about
it, and then write the whole thing out,
word for word, just asshe told it to me.
‘Twould take her half an hour, sometimes
more. ‘Twasn’t any joke, either, carry-
ing those worries of hers into the front
parlor, cold winter days. ‘Twas like an
ice-box. It kind of solemnized her, too, I
guess, to think of their being shut up
there, alone, all winter, with the Lord, in
the cold. There was something tomb-like
and awe-inspiring about 1t.
‘She got, Cornelia did, so she kept her
back to me as much as she could, so I
shouldn’t see that line besween her eyes,
and more’n she could help. Bless you! I
could tell just by the set of her shoulders
when she was worrying ! They’d all kind
of round over and hump up. I didn’t
overdo the matter, though. When she
thought I wasn’t noticing, I left her go on
thinking so. She’d a bin wore out before
she was cured, if I hadn’t. ;
“‘Well, Thanksgiving came along. My
other girls were coming to have it with me,
and their hushands and the children. There
was a terrible big baking on. The front
parlor was opened up, there was a fire in
the air-tight and twas smelling of mince
pies and cakes like a bake-shop.
“Cornelia ’d been fussing around in
there for quite a spell, taking things up
and dusting them and setting ’em down
again in a fidgety kind of a way. I saw
plainly what twas was on her mind, and
I felt sorry for her, I can tell you I did.
It hurt me, I did assure you, a lot more’n
it did her, not to kouckle under to my
feelings.
‘No, Cornelia,’ I says, Thanksgiving or
no Thanksgiving, those things set right
where they be. You aren’t balf cured yet
of what's ailing you and you know it as
well as I do. What's more, you aren’t
half trying. Folks get what they try for,
in the general run in this world. If they
don’t get it, it’s because they don’t try.’
“I don’t know as I want to say much
about that Thauksgiving Day. There's
things that have been necessary in most
folks lives, I suppose, that they don’t take
any great comfort talking about. The
turkey and the pies might just as well
bave been sawdust for all the taste there
was to them so far as I was concerned; and
the children skylarking around drove me
wild. If Cornelia had got mad and storm-
ed around I could bave stood it. As it
was, you couldn’t see anything unusual
about her, except that her cheeks were
feverish and her bands shook, and she was
gentler than common with the young ones.
Cornelia’s got the sweetest disposition, if I
do say it as shouldn’t that ever was put
into a woman.
‘It was the turning point, though, that
Thanksgiving Day. After that, she really
tried, hard as ’twas in her to try. Shebad
a good long stretch of winter to make prog-
ress in. Folks talk about the season
changing. I guess I'd be the first one to
know it, if a New England winter showed
any sign of shortening up.
‘Spring came lagging along as usnal.
The snow was beginning to melt and
things was thawing out in the front parlor,
when our turn came in sight for having the
sewing society. I’d seen it looming up
like a rock ahead all winter. Did seem as
though I hadn’t got the backbone to let
those things sit right out there in the
midst of the parlor floor sewing society |.
afternoon. Shaming Cornelia before her
own flesh and blood was one thing, sham-
ing her before the whole town was anoth-
er. She was most cured, too, and she'd
done well. She hadn’t earned a finish up
like that.
“I didn’t worry over it. I don’t know
how to worry. I spent the heft of my
time, though, trying to think out some
way of giving in without her knowing I'd
given in. I guess I’m not the first mother
that has sheered off from a p’int at issue
that way, without a child knowing she’s
sheered.
¢‘I got to reflecting upon the Lord’s deal-
ings with His children, thinking maybe I'd
get hints for dealing with mine. It was
borne in upon me, as I was thinking about
them, that, except in cases bere and there
like Pharaoh’s—and Cornelia wasn’t a
mite like Pharaoh—the Lord didn’t dis-
cipline right straight along without any let
up. When he saw the least sign that folks
were beginning to do as they knew they’d
ought to, he’d surprise them with a mercy,
when they were the least expecting if;a
real human, comforting kind of a meroy,
not the kind that you have to wait until
you get half way through eternity before
you get reconciled to it as such.
‘I thought I'd copy the ways of the
Lord and try surprising Cornelia with a
mercy—a big one—that would tickle her
most to death, and see if it wouldn’t finish
up the cure in a hurry.
“I took some money I'd got laid away’’
—here I gavea perceptible start in my
chair, for I knew what that money was
laid away for—‘‘and I bought her a melo-
deon—so much down and the rest on the
installment plan. She’d wanted one ever
since she was knee-high to a grasshopper.
I thought maybe the time bad come when
I couldn’ afford nos to buy her one, when
twas going to cost too much to do with-
out it.
‘‘She come home from the village one
afternoon—I’d sent her off on purpose—
and found it sitting there in the front par-
lor. Well”’—here Mrs. Electa stopped and
choked and mopped her eyes—'‘when she
saw it sitting there, she cried like a baby,
and cried. and cried and couldn’t stop cry-
ing; and all the while she was laughing and
couldn’t stop that any more than she could
the crying. I had to makeher a cup of
green tea, to settle her nerves: If I hadn't
I dunno but what she’d a bin orying yet.
Twas the devil of worry rending his way
out of her, once for all, I guess. I haven’t
seen hide nor hair of himsince. He’sgone
for good.
‘“Well, when it come the day before the
Sewing Society, I was going to take those
vases and the bushel basket away. I was
sick and tired of the sight of them. I don’t
know as you’d believe what I'm telling
you now. I can’t hardly believe it my-
self, bat Cornelia wouldn’t let me. © Come
Sewing Society afternoon, if she didn’ rise
up in her seat, when everybody’d gob
quieted down to their sewing, and explain
to them all why those things were sitting
there, the vase and the basket, and confess
to them all, just as if it had heen class
meeting, that she’d been a wicked woman
all her days. She badn’t trusted the Lord,
for anything, big or little. She was going,
80 he she was spared, to turn over a new
leaf. She hoped they’d all help her on her
way. They all got to crying, and Miss
Bascom, she’d forgot her handkerchief,
then I was afraid ’twould fluster her to
know I'd been watching her, and I
thought, anyway, if I was the home mis-
sionary’s wife, I should enjoy that petti-
coat all the more. There was a bias ruffle
round the bottom and fine tucks on top of
the ruffle, two broad and three narrow.
"Twas a handsome petticoat, that petticoat
was.
Mrs. Electa stopped suddenly; she had
said all there was to say, and was never a
woman to go on after that was reached.
We sat in our rocking-chairs, under the
trees for a time, silently. The grass had
soft white irregular flickings upon it. Mrs.
Eleota’s spectacles shone in the moonlight
like gig-lamps.
‘‘Cornelia,”’ she called at last, raising her
voice that it might travel around the corner
of the house to the woodshed. ‘‘Ain’t you
most through with the bread ? Set down
and play something for us.”
My nerves contracted in anticipation of
what I feared I was about to endure. The
opera and the choicest of music wherever
it is to be had, are my one extravagance.
1 pinch and scrap that I may enjoy them.
Presently ont upon the summer night
came stealing the very essence of the soul
of a true musician. It was only a melo-
dion, bought upon the installment plan,
only simple old melodies, like ‘‘Annie
Laurie’ and ‘‘The Swanee River.” It
was the soul of a musician nevertheless.
The tears rolled down Mrs. Electa’s
cheeks, and dropped into her lap. I was
crying. The homely farmhouse, the milk-
pans in the shed, the bread that was rais-
ing, all these things faded away from our
consciousness, and a world of sweet, pure
romance took their place.
The music ceased. Mrs. Electa turned
to me, the tears still dropping from off her
cheeks : ‘‘’Twould’nt have answered for
her not to have it ?’’ she whispered, inter-
rogatively.
“Oh, no !"’ was what I answered from
the depths of my heart. ‘‘It would not !”’
—By Mrs. Charles T. Collins in the House-
hold Ledger.
The Darky and
the Doctors.
An old negro living in Carrollton was
taken ill recently, and called in a physi-
cian of his race to perscribe for him. But
the old man did not seem to be getting any
better, and finally a white physician was
called. Soon after arriving, Dr. S——felt
the darky’s pulse for a moment, and then
examined his tongue. ‘‘Did your other
doctor take your temperature ? he asked.
“I don’t know, sah,’’ he answered, feebly;
“I bain’t missed anything but my watch
as yit, boss.”
Fiendish Murder.
Paymaster Ferguson, of the Construction Company
of that Name, the Victim. His Companion Will
Die.
One of the most fiendish and bloodthirsty
murders and robberies in the history of
Washington county occurred last Friday
afternoon on the Middleton road about fif-
teen miles from Washington. Samuel T.
Ferguson, of the Ferguson Construction
company, of Pittsburg, was instantly kill-
ed, and his secretary, Charles L. Martin,
of Cincinnati, was fatally injured. The
two men were driving along the road ina
buggy carrying $3,600 in cash with which
to pay off some of their men employed on
conetruction work along the line of the
Wabash railroad, when suddenly an ex-
plosion of dynamite in the roadway liter-
ally tore the rig to pieces, killed Ferguson
outright and threw Martin 200 feet, tear-
ing his left arm almost from the socket. It
has been learned that two men, supposed
to be Poles, placed the dynamite in the
road for the purpose of killing Paymaster
Ferguson and had arranged to explode it
by means of an electric battery. The
satchel containing the money is missing.
Two objects are under arrest in the camp
of the construction company near the vil-
lage but the farmers of the section, who
are scouring the country for traces of the
murderers believe they have one of them
at bay in an abandoned coal mine about a
mile and a half northeast of West Middle-
town.
So quickly was everything accomplished
that the men who are implicated got away
with their booty before they could be over-
taken although the county authorities be-
lieve that if the right men are not under
arrest they will have little difficulty in
taking them.
Without Food or Water Ten Days.
Convicts Nearly Die While Concealed Awaiting
a Chance to Escape from Prison,
Drayton Wedlin, convicted of murder,
and E. V. Rice, convicted of larceny, serv-
ing sentences in the North Carolina peni-
tentiary, attempted to escape ten days ago,
and lived in a garret until Tuesday with-
out food or water.
The two men were out with the other
prisoners in the walled yard on Sunday
last. When the roll was called at 6 p. m.
Melin and Rice was missed. A search re-
vealed a portion of their clothing lying be-
side a wall where they had apparently dug
their way out. Supt. Kerr declared after
what he thought was a thorough search, of
the premises, that the men were not with-
in the grounds.
Others insisted that the prisoners could
not have got away. Last Tuesday they
were found in the dark and dingy garret
over a deserted shoeshop inside the grounds.
They were lying helpless on the floor.
They had cut away the board ceiling and
replaced the planks in a most skillful man-
ner. Their purpose bad been to seek an
opportunity to scale the walls, but it never
came.
Trooper's 2,000 BMile Ride.
Oklahoma to
Davis West
Point.
Wins Race from
Trooper Davis, of the Eighth cavalry,
has reached West Point, being the first of a
detachment of twelve troopers who started
from Oklahoma twenty-nine days ago on a
test ride of 2,000.
The men were allowed to eat and sleep
when they pleased, relays of horses being
provided every thirty miles. The object
of the ride was to cover the distance in the
shortest practicable time.
Davis, being the lighest man of the
party, led his comrades at the start and
thus had the advantage of getting the pick
of mounts at the relay stations. He rode
up the east bank of the Hudson after
reaching New York until near Garrison,
where his horse gave out. The ferry hav-
ing stopped, he reported his arrival by
signaling across the river to West point.
Then he came on to Newburg, and then
proceeded to his destination.
Davis weighed 137 pounds when he start-
ed and now weighs but 108 pounds. He
was very tired, but happy to think he had
broken the record for the distance, which
is forty-five days. The ride is one of sev-
eral taken to test the stamina of men and
horses, made at the suggestion of Gen. 8.
B. M. Young, the new chief of staff.
$2.50 Coffin for Rich Man.
Professor jWright was Opposed to Expensive
Funeral.
Inocased in a plain, unpainted pine box
that did not cost more than $2.50, the body
of Prof. Max Wright, instructor in modern
languages in Leland Stanford university,
and the son of wealthy parents, was buried
at Grand Rapides, Mich., on last Wednes-
day.
The funeral was ordered by Professor
Wright. He believed that the present cus-
tom of lavish burials is barbarous and
economically wrong. Before his death be
directed that the $200 of his money that
ordinarily would be spent for a funeral be
used for a public fountain as a monument
to his memory.
Professor Wright's father did the
work of the undertaker. There was no re-
ligious service and the body was taken to
the grave in a plain wagon. At the grave
Dr. P. B. Wright, father of the dead man,
addressed the relatives and friends, ex-
plaining the reason for the simple funeral.
——Atkinson Addlemen Kelly, a well-
known aud highly respected citizen of
Lawrence township, Clearfield county, died
at his home Saturday, September 12th, of
organic heart trouble. Mr. Kelly was
born in Half-moon valley, this county,
on March 12th, 1838. His parents moved
to Clearfield county about the year 1848,
and settled on what is now known as the
old Kelly farm near Lumber City. He
entered the army in August, 1863, and
served until the close of the war. In 1869,
he was married to Jerusha Bloom and to
this union six children were born, five of
whom survive him. He lived with his
parents for a number of years, and then
purchased the farm where he spent the re-
mainder of his life.
The Westerner in New York.
A newly arrived Westerner was confront-
ed in a etreet of New York late at night by
a ruffian with leveled revolver. who made
the stereotyped demand : ‘‘Give me your
money or I'll blow your brains out.”
‘‘Blow away,’’ said the Westerner, ‘‘you
can live in New York without brains, but
you can’t live without money.”’
His Pleasant Expression.
At the photographer’s: ‘‘Have I the
pleasant expression you need ?’’ (Voice
from under the cloth)—‘'Perfectly, sir.”
“Then let her go quick, governor; it hurts
ny face.’’— Life.
a —.
it would all be a laughing matter.
Swaps Cart for Hay.
Consolidated Lake Superior Forced to Barter its
Property—Has no Cash to Pay Anything.
A Sanlte Ste. Marie, Mich, dispatch
saye : There was an element of comedy in
Tueeday’s developments in the Consoli-
dated Lake Superior situation and were it
not for destitution caused by lack of money
As it
is, men having checks for hundreds of dol-
lars are going about begging a pipeful of
tobacco, eating at the expense of others
and sleeping on the floor of a car barn.
A company capitalized at more than
$100,000,000 and owning planterepresenting
a cash expenditure of $30,000,000 is unable
to buy fodder for its horses and is forced to
ewap things that do not eas to buy fodder
for things which do eat.
William Coyne, assistant to President
Shields, and upon whose shoulders now
rests the responsibility of caring for the
thousands of men thrown out of employ-
ment by the closing down of the various
industries of the Consolidated, stated Tues-
day that he bad been obliged to trade a
cart for six tons of hay to keep the horses
belonging to the company from starvation.
‘“The animals,’”” he said, ‘‘have been
kept down to the least amount of fodder
possible without endangering their health,
but what we had is gone, and they had to
be fed. I could find no person in the Soo
willing to take a check or give credit, and
was forced to make some kind of a deal to
get fodder.
‘“The men who are still in the woods are
on half rations, and have but enough to
keep them going for two days. The men
at the mines are not at work, and will be
in, I expect, on the Minnie M. The men
from the woods will be in within a day
or two.” :
Mr. Coyne was asked when the Inter-
national hotel would be closed,and replied:
“If we close that somebody will starve,
for we are doing what we can to feed the
discharged employes there.’’
Asked where he got the money to buy
provisions for the hotel, hesaid : ‘‘We
bave a lot of liquor in the cellar and the
bar business nets us about $60 per day.
The hotel has done pretty well this sum-
mer, so that it is not in very bad condition
with the revenue from the bar. We are
compelled to pay cash for everything, how-
ever, for not a man in the Soo will give
credit to the Consolidated or anybody who
is associated with it past or present.’
The announcement that Speyer & Co.
will soon sell the properties is received
with satisfaction, although with some feel-
ings of anxiety lest the plants should fall
into the hands of a corporation which would
keep them closed permanently.
One aud all are sad at the pews that Mr.
Lewis and those who were first associated
with Clergue will lose all. Lewis is well
liked here and the people would like to see
him win out, and on the American side it
was announced officially Tuesday that the
Union Carbide company, whose plant is
practically completed, will in ten days be-
gin the manufacture of the drums in which
the product of the plants shipped. They
will turn ous from 1,500 to 2,000 drums
per day, having a capacity of 100 pounds
of carbide.
The president of the company said two
weeks ago when here that as soon as the
power company was ready to furnish elec-
tricity the company would start up with a
force of 400 men, taking about 11,000 horse
power and that within a year would em-
ploy 1,000 men and take ite full allotment
of 20,000 horse power. This naturally
gives a feeling of satisfaction to the people
of the American Soo, although it does not
help the situation on the other side any.
The immigration officials on the Amer-
ican side have been busy the past two days,
a large number of Finlanders coming across
having come from the camps of the Con-
solidated. Monday afternoon and night
two robberies were committed and one af-
tempt was frustrated. Chief of Police
Burdick believes they were committed by
discharged men from the woods.
He Went to Church.
‘“James,’’ she said, as they were pack-
ing for a short trip into the country, ‘‘are
you going to wear that outing shirt?”
Certainly,” he responded: ‘‘You don’t
suppose I am going to loaf around in a
starched one, do you?”’
‘Oh, no; but you must put in one white
one, you know, We’ll be there over Sun-
day.”
‘“What of it?’’ he asked irritably.
‘“What of it!’’ she repeated in surprise.
“Why, James, you can’t go to church in
an outing shirt, and you must go to
church, you know. Aunt Maria would
think it awful if you didn’t.”
“But if I forgot to bring the white
shirt,”’ he suggested, ‘‘she—"’
‘‘But you musnt’t forget it,”’ she inter-
rupted. ‘You must go really. You
promised you’d do what I wanted you to
on this trip.”’
He sat down in a corner of the room with
his grip in front of him and thought it all
over for a minute. Then he said :
“All right, Jennie. If it'll please you
I’H take one.’’
He took a shirt out of the drawer and
jammed it into a grip, and to show her
appreciation of the act she put her arms
around his neck and kissed him.
And the following Sunday morning,
while he was getting his last doze,she took
the shirt out of the valise and laid it on the
chair. Then she went back to the valise
and a moment later her voice rang out
clear and sharp: ’
‘James, where are your collars and
cuffs?’
‘Hey?’ he said, partially awakened.
“Oh, collars and cuffs. Aren’t they there?’’
‘No; they’re not there.”
‘IT must have forgotten them,’’ he said
yawning and turning over.
You certainly didn’t bring them.”
There was a menacing ring to her voice,
but he failed to notice it.
““Then I can’t go to church,” he said.
‘Yes, you can,’’ she retorted. ‘‘I know
you, James Stringer, and you can’t fool me
that way.’ -
And he went wearing a 17 collar belong-
ing to “Uncle Henry’ ona 15 neck be-
longing to himself. And the oufis could
bave been put on outside his coat sleeves.
But he went just the same, and the next
time he tells his wife he will go anywhere
he will make preparations accordingly.—
Brooklyn Eagle.
A Dead Letter,
As defined : ‘‘Say, mamma,’ queried
little Mary Ellen, ‘‘what’s a dead letter ?”’
“Any letter that is given to your father to
mail, my dear,’’ replied the wise mother.
— Chicago News.
A Puzzle to the Last,
When a woman tells a man just whatshe
thinks of him she really tells him just
what she wants him to think she thinks.
—Somerville Journal.
Gomel Riots Terrible.
Jews at Mercy of Russian Murderers and Plunderers
—Nearly 400 Houses Wrecked.
A press correspondent has made an in-
vestigation on the spot of the ‘‘pogrom,’’
as the Russians describe the anti-Semitic
riots which occurred at Gomel September
11th and were renewed for several days.
The riots weresmaller, but perhaps more
remarkable than those which took place a$
Kischeneff, because the police and military
openly sided with the plunderers and mur-
derers, the ‘‘Pogromshiks.”? The troops,
supported by many educated and well-to-
do Christians, formed a movable shield be-
hind which the ‘‘Pogromshiks’’ ruthlessly
demolished the Jewish homes and shops
and cruelly clubbed such Jews as fell into
their bands, leisurely proceeding from
sireet to street and district to district.
The commerce and industry of Gomel,
which is considerable, is largely in the
hands of the Jewish population, number-
ing 26,000. Few of the residents are
wealthy, but there are no paupers. The
Jewish artisans incline to Socialism.
The trouble began September 11th, a
holiday—the day cf the beheading of John
the Baptist—in a wrangle in the fruit and
fish markets between moujiks (peasants)
and Jews. The wrangle ended in a free
fight, in which many were wounded, one
moujik dying from his injuries.
The monjiks demanded vengeance and
employed the following days,Saturday and
Sunday, in inflaming the anti-Semite agi-
tation, the leaders being an officer named
Pensky and a rich merchant named Potra-
chenko.
Everybody knew thata ‘“‘pogrom’’ would
occur Monday, and the Jews appealed for
protection to Chief of Police Ravsky, who
summoned an infantry regiment from its
summer encampment. Thus there were
1,600 soldiers in the city.
At the luncheon hour Monday anti-
Semitic railway workmen to the number of
some hundreds began an organized attack
on the Jewish houses in Zamaykaya street,
sacking them and demolishing or spoiling
the bulky articles they contained by soak-
ing them with kerosene. Police Chief
Raveky had placed police and troops on
the street, but they acted as if they in-
tended to protect the ‘‘pogrimshiks’’ from
interference. Jews who tried to cross their
lines to rescue c¢o-religionists were brutally
clubbed with the soldiers’ guns,bayonetted
or arrested.
Meanwhile recruits for the ‘‘pogrom-
shiks’’ poured steadily over a bridge lead-
ing from the railway workshops. A by-
stander begged the commander of the gen-
darmes to send troops to guard the exit
from the bridge. The officer replied,
threatening the man with arrest and say-
ing :
“We know what we have to do.”
The plunderers now proceeded from street
to street, the troops and police following
them. They subsequently visited the
Jewish quarter called ‘‘America,’”’ then
‘‘Konnaya Square,’”’ the upper end of
Roumianzovskaya street, the principal
thoroughfare of the gomel, and the district
called ‘‘Caucasus.”’
Altogether nearly 400 houses and shops
were wholly or partially wrecked, the win-
dows smashed, the blinds and frames splin-
tered and every scrap of furniture and
effects, even sewing machines, mirrors and
lamps, destroyed or stolen.
The state department having been ap-
pealed to by some of the Jewish residents
of Philadelphia who were concerned over
the safety of their kinsmen at Gomel to
procure news of their relatives, the depart-
ment has sent a communication to the
American charge at St. Petersburg asking
him whether American interests were in-
volved in the affair.
How to Make Shoes Wear.
Considerable difference will be found in
the wearing qualities of two pairs of shoes
of the same quality and make worn by dif-
ferent persons. No shoes worn continuous-
ly in the house and out doors will give as
much wear as a pair of shoes worn one day
and then left to rest a day. It saves mon-
ey to wear cheap house shoes within doors
and let the shoes worn out doors rest and
get back into shape while the owner is
within doors.
Keep an old pair of shoes to wear under
rubbers. The perspiration of the feet
which India rubber excites rmins good
leather. Select strong calfskin and keep it
well oiled in winter for outdoor use.
Low shoes are better for house wear, be-
cause they give the foot a chance to be ven-
tilated as the hand is not afflicted as the
foot so often is with corns, callous places
and chilblains. This is because it is con-
tinuously exposed to the air. Even when
kid gloves are worn they do not compress
the hand so much as the average boot does
the foot, and they are not worn continu-
ously, as a boot is.
——Railroads throughout the country
are waging war against the use of intoxi-
cating liquors and tobacco by their em-
ployes who are engaged in operating the
lines. The fiat has gone forth generally
that employes who drink or frequent
places where liquors are sold are not safe
to intrust with the lives of patrons or with
the valuable property transported by the
railroads. The rules which have recently
been inaugurated against the use of tobacco
are not so stringent as those against liquor,
but generally they proscribe tobacco while
on duty and when about stations. « As for
the cigarette, the order againat it is almost
as severe as that against whiskey. The
rule is being strictly enforced.
Lesson in Punctuation.
A Philadelphia school girl said to her
father the other night : ‘‘Daddy, I’ve got
a sentence I'd like to have you punctuate.
You know something about punctuation,
don’t you ?’!
‘Yes, a little,”’ said her cautious parent
as he took the slip of paper she handed
him. This is what he read :
“A $5 bill flew around the corner.”
He studied it carefully and finally said :
‘‘Well, I'd simply. put a period after it,
like this.’
“I wouldn’t,”’ said the high school girl;
“I'd make a dash after it.’’— Philadelphia
Ledger. 5
Carried Small-pox into Court,
A man by the name of Nesbit from
Bakerton was one of the jurors drawn to
serve at Ebensburg last week. The small-
pox also claimed his attention nnknown to
the court, and despite his physician’s or-
ders he succeeded in escaping and reaching
the county seat in time for the opening of
the court. He mingled with his fellow
talesmen until noon, when his condition
became known and he was informed that
the disease had a stronger hold on his ac-
tions than the law, and he was compelled
to vamoose the sacred precints of the court
house in more than a hurry—Patton Courier,
——Most men are allowed lots of lati-
tude, if they are only willing workers.