ty
Bemovra atc
Bellefonte, Pa., November 6, 1903.
SR A AAR
A PROTEST.
If she'd only keep from chewing, chewing, chew-
ing all the day
In that horrifying way.
1f she just knew what she looked like as she does
it anyhow—
So suggestive of a cow;
How it mars the perfect outline of her plump
and peachy cheek
To the contour of a freak
With a jaw of India rubber, she would stop it, I
am sure—
Yes, that should effect a cure.
She's just as swcet and pretty as she possibly
can bo
And it really seems to me
Quite a pity that a victim to the habit she
should fall.
I don’t like the thing at all.
Its effects may be quite soothing to her nerves,
but it is rough
On us others—its enough
To impel her friends to seize her and to force her
to get rid
Of the wretched, sticky quid.
She is chewing, chewing, chewing, she is chew-
ing all the time.
Yet it is not any crime
To be always agitating in that ugly way her jaw.
I don’t know of any law
She trangresses when she does it that is on the
statute books.
I don’t care how queer she looks
But I wish at least she would not—that is really
hard to bear—
Leave her gum upon my chair.
— Chicago News
A STRANGE CHILD.
‘Oh, my ! what a whopper !”” The boy
put his hands into his pockets and looked
at the small girl as he might have eyed a
strange beetle or crab.
The small girl put up her chin and look-
ed back at him.
“I don’t see how yon dare, ’’said the boy.
‘Don’t you remember what happened to
Ananias and Sapphira, and—and Korah
and his company, and—"’
‘Never seen ’em,’’ said the girl.
heard of ’em.”’
‘You haven’t! Why, what do you do
in Sunday school, I'd like to know 2’?
‘‘Sunday school !’ said the girl; ‘“Idon’t
go to Sunday school.”’
‘Then youdon’t know about—why may-
be you aren't so niach to blame. I—I was
just going to chase you home unless you
took back that.”’
“I don’t take things back,’’ said the
girl, raising her chin a little higher and
stepping a little bit nearer to the boy.
‘Not when you know they aren’
true ?”’
‘Not when I knows anything; not when
I don’t know anything — whedder or
no 1m '
This was too much for the boy. He
backed off to get a little look at the
strange creature, failed to count on his
truck, which stood behind him, tumbled
heels over head, picked himself up, stood
looking at the girl, who hadn’t moved a
finger during all this.
“It’s a good thing you’re a girl and
don’t have to grow into a man,’’ he said.
‘You wouldn’t make the right kind.”’
‘‘But I want to be a man. I want to be
big and lick folks as they licks me. I’m
mad ‘cause I’m a girl. I shall tell all the
whoppers I can think of. I’m thinking of
one now.’’
‘I've a great mind to chase you home,”’
said the boy.
‘Yes; that’s it. Chase me away. Knock
me over. Beat me. That's what folks
mostly do to me.
The boy stood still. He watched the
wrath of the small creature as it rose high-
er. He became dumb and couldn’t speak
ab once.
‘Come on. Chase me home.
let me get intr anybody’s good time.
me !”?
“Why don’t you hit me ?’?
‘‘Cause,’’ he nnswered slowly, ‘‘cause I
don’t want to. I’m sorry for you.”’
The small girl’s chin went down. The
insolent look faded from her face. Her
small, dirty hands nnclinched, she took a
step backward, and looked over her
shoulder as if she were going to run
away.
“‘Say,’, said the boy, ‘‘I wouldn’t feel
that way Don’t! Come, get on my truck;
I'll draw you. Edith’s coming tonight.
She’s awful nice. She’s my sister. We're
visiting here, in that house next to the
Methodist church. My uncle is steward in
the church. I s’pose they call him that
‘cause he tends to the things for commun-
ion and love feasts just as the stewards on
steamships ‘tends to the meals. You'll
like Edith. She’ll show her dolls and
things to you. She’# got a pair of twin
dolls and, maybe she’ll let you play with
them if—if you’ll drop the—the whop-
pers.”’
‘Maybe
won’s.”’
‘Then you can’t come near Edith. I
take care of Edith.”
“Then I'll stay ’round outside, and
scream and make faces and throw dirt. O,
I know how !”’
At this somebody called, and the hoy
picked up his truck handle and went off,
dragging it after him.
The small girl stayed about a while, then
she wandered off. She received a beating
when she reached home for having run
away. But all through the day she remem-
bered that somebody was sorry for her.
She remembered it the next morning, and
as early as possible stole away and ran
over to the place where she had met this
one who had said that he was sorry for
her. The boy and his sister were
there.
*‘0, girl ! girl I’ called the boy. ‘Here's
Edith. Come here.”
She came nearer. Edith looked up from
her playthings. ‘‘How d’do, girl!’ she
said. ‘What's your name? Where’s your
doll?”
‘Never had a doll.”
“What !”?
The boy came closer to her. ‘‘Is—isthat
a whop—"’
But the look in her eyes made him stop.
He turned helplessly toward hissister. The
other little girl—the happy one—under-
stood. She got up and came forward with
the dear twin dollies in her hands. One of
them she laid against the little girl’s breast
(it happened to be just where her heart
was, though Edith didn’t think of that)
then she bent the girl’s arm up to hold it
there.
‘Take her,”” she said. ‘‘It’s Elvira.
I’ve a great family of dolls—though I love
these two most the bess.”’
The strange child’s face became like the
face of one who had seen an angel. ‘To
keep ?”’ she asked breathlessly, ‘for me to
—keep, as long as I live.”’
“Yes, longer,” said the boy, earnest:
Never
Don’t
Hit
I'll drop them; maybe I
Edith nodded her head seriously.
With a strange cry that was half laugh-
ter, half weeping, the child held the doll to
her heart with both hands, and turned and
ran‘away like a deer, still uttering that
strange cry.
“Now we've lost her,”’ said the boy.
“‘She will come back,’’ said Edith.
And it was so. The next day she was
there with clean face and hands, with
something more tender than a smile upon
her little hard face, and with the doll held
closely in her arms.
‘‘Come,”’ said Edith, ‘‘let’s play go visit-
ing. ‘I'll come on the track to see you to-
day.”
For hours they played. Day after day
it was the same. One morning the small
girl said to the boy : ‘I don’t tell whop-
pers any more. Don’t you see Idon’t.
The boy nodded.
‘“Wheun do you go home ?”’
‘‘Saturday.’”’
“0, dear!” She held the doll closer.
“It’s easy to keep from telling ’em when
you’re here. But I s’pose I'll get back
again when you're gone. How can I—
keep—Kkeep s0?”’
The boy thought very hard. He remem-
bered something in the church service that
always helped him to keep his good resolu-
tions. Then he talked to Edith, who agreed
with him.
‘You must kneel down at the altar in
the church, ’’ he said to the small girl, “‘and
have the minister pray over you, while you
take the communion—just as we do. Do
you want to ?”’
‘““What is it? Yes, I want to.’’
“Do you want to now ?’’
‘Yes, now !"’ said the child.
‘‘Well, Uncle Hardy and Aunt Esther
are away; but I know where the commu-
nion things are and the bread. I can fix
’em up in the church; then I'll fetch the
minister. I know him a lot. He's jolly
fine. He'll come and do it for you so’s to
keep you from whopping. I know he
will.”
Then the boy looked at Edith, who un-
derstood this time, also.
‘‘Wouldn’t you mind putting on some
clothes, just like these ?’’ she asked; ‘‘I’ve
got such a lot of them.”’
The child looked down at her wretched
garments. ‘‘I wouldn’t mind,’’ she said.
‘I'd put ’em on if—if I'd ought to, to do
that—’
Half an hour later the young pastor was
overtaken by a breathless small boy, who
pulled off his cap and said. ‘‘My ! but can’t
you walk, though! G.od morning, Mr.
Ellsworth! Won’t you come to the church
quick ? ‘Cause there’s a little girl who
wants to be good and leave off telling
whoppers. We've got everything ready
but the wine. I couldn’t find that, and
Uncle Hardy and Aunt Esther are away
from home. But I put some water on.
'Twill do just as well—don’t you think
802"
Mr. Ellsworth turned in wonder, clasped
the small hand that slid into his, and wens
with the boy. As he went he questioned
and listened. When the church was reach-
ed he found that everything, indeed, was
ready, even to the small figure which knelt
waiting, while another small figure sat de-
murely in the pew beside two dolls—also
very demure.
He tock the matter in at a glance. His
heart was very tender toward children.
Drawing a small book of service from his
pocket, he went within the altar. The boy
slid into a pew.
‘‘Come,’’ said the pastor, ‘‘both of you,
partake and receive the blessings with
your little friend. ‘‘The two went softly
forward and knelt upon either side of the
still little figure. It was well that the
young minister knew the service, for his
eyes were so full that he counldn’t read a
word.
“Christ forgive me,’’ he was praying in
his heart. ‘I was almost ready to give
up. But Thou hast, indeed, encouraged
me.”’
The boy and his sister went away. But
while she has many, many trials, the
small girl is growing into a strong, brave,
sweet Christian. — The Christian Advo-
cate.
The Reason Why She Was Anxious.
During the debate on the statehood bill,
pending in last Congress, there came to
members of both houses from time to time
many anxious inquiries from points in toe
interested territories asking information as
to the prospects of the bill becoming law.
These inquiries came in the form of both
letters and telegraphs, and the services of
many clerks were required to answer them,
in view of the exceedingly large number
received.
One case was particularly noticeable, as
well as amusing. The anxious inquirer
was a woman living in Oklahoma. She
would write or telegraph nearly every day.
Apparently the sterotyped reply she re-
ceived from the delegate from her Terri-
tory did not satisfy her, for pretty soon she
appeared in person and began to haunt the
capitol. The degree of anxiety that this
lady evinced in the question whether Ok-
lahoma would be granted admission as a
state finally aroused the curiosity of th
delegate. ’
“May I ask, Madam,’ he inquired, ‘‘the
degree of interest you have in this meas-
ure ?”
The lady hesitated.
she asked.
‘‘Not necessarily, of course,’’ replied the
delegate, *‘but it would gratify my curics-
ity if you did.”
“Well,”” was the answer, ‘if you’ll not
let is go any further, I'll tell you. I went
to Oklahoma to establish a residence so
that I might get a divorce from my hus-
band, who, I may incidentally remark, is
certainly a brute. My attorney tells me
that territorial divorces: may not stand;
but that if the territory is granted admis-
sion the divorce will surely stand. So I
should be so grateful if you were to hurry
this hill through, because I want to marry
a friend whom I have known since child-
hood. I think that Mr. Beveridge, who is
opposing this bill, ought to he ashamed of
himeelf !’’ :
Unfortunately for this lady, the bill was
talked to death.—Saturday Evening Post.
“Must I tell?”
Cure for Lockjaw Found.
A cure for lockjaw has been discovered
by Dr. 8. A. Matthews, of the University
of Chicago, and has been successfully used
in treating George Newman, of South Chi-
cago. :
Dr. Matthews’ method of treatment is
the injection of a solution of calcium and
potassium salts. This injection was given
Newman a week ago while he was suffer-
ing from extremely severe tetanus spasms,
and he is now declared to be well on his
way to health.
The new cure is a diuretic. The prob-
lem which Dr. Matthews has worked out
is to get the proper combination of salts
to bring about the effect desired. Now
that it has been found, the doctors say
that the same principle can be applied to
the cure of snake bites, blood poisoning
aed other diseases caused by toxins in the
ody.
Young Bechtel, Sister's Slayer, Kills
Himself.
Cuts His Throat and Dies in His Cell, Dreading
Disclosures. Plot Fails to Hide Tragedy. All
of the Family Arrested. Accused of Concoct-
ing the Weird Story of a Carriage Contain-
ing a Body in Order to Shield the Culprit.
Driven mad by remorse following the
crime of brutally murdering his sister
Mabel, Thomas Bechtel, in his cell at the
station house ai Allentown Thursday night,
ended his life by cutting his throat from
ear to ear with a large pocket-knife. The
body of the self-convicted murderer was
discovered by a jail attache at 5:30 o’clock,
and was still warm, indicating that the
death wound had been inflicted but a few
moments before.
Although the police attempted to keep
the matter quiet, the startling sensation
was known in an incredibly short time
throughout the city, and the streets in the
vicinity of police headyunarters were soon
crowded with a vast throng, wrought up to
the highest pitch of excitement. So in-
tense was the desire of the crowd to hear
the details that Chief Eastman was com-
pelled to order out the entire police force
to prevent a forcible entry into the station
house.
ARRESTED ALL THE BECHTELS.
Shortly after the discovery of Bechtel
the members of his family arrived to at-
tend the inquest, and another startling
sensation was sprung. The police at once
took into custody Mrs. Bechtel, Charles
Bechtel, John Bechtel and the daughter,
Martha, and they will all be arraigned as
accessories to the murder of Mabel.
The detention of the family at once
cleared away the mystery, and the author-
ities proceeded to explain the manner of
the murder. For several months past the
family have been urging, then threatening
Mabel, determined that she should discon-
tinue her visits to Weisenberg. On sever-
al occasions she promised, but every time
they found that the feeling grew more in-
tense.
On last Sunday afternoon Mabel met
Weisenberg; pursuant to an appointment
made with him on their trip from Phila-
delphia. They rented a room at a place
known as the Eighth Ward Hotel, and oc-
capied it together for several hours. Then
Mabel went home and arrived there about
11 o’clock.
ENGAGED BROTHER'S DEED.
In the meantime her brother Tom, the
suicide, had learned of her escapade, traced
both her and Weisenherg to the hotel
where the room had been rented, and
learned that they had just left. He at
once hurried home, and found Mabel in
the second-story front room, preparing to
retire. He upbraided her for what she
bad done, and she retorted angrily.
In a rage the brother struck her a heavy
blow on the ear and knocked her against a
bureau. She was senesless, and he thought
he had killed her.
Then, to make it look more like a mur-
der, he at once got a hatchet from the back
room and hit her with it twice.
The family were speedily aroused, and
when they saw that the girl was dead a
family consultation was held.
The plot which followed was developed,
and in order to make it look more like
murder both of the other brothers, Charles
and John, are alleged to have taken a hand
in is.
BODY HIDDEN OVER SUNDAY.
The body was carefully hidden in the
front room all of Sunday, and the day was
spent in removing as much as possible the
evidences of the marder. The hatchet was
washed and broken ; the blood stains were
washed up. and the carpet was replaced’
with another one.
When Eckstein called on Sunday he was
told that Mabel had gone out.
The entire story of the fictitious team
and the bundle being carried into a
neighbor’s yard was concocted and carried
out to the letter. The first important clew
concerning the latter came from an anony-
mous letter to Mayor Lewis. It was writ-
ten in a feminine hand, and was post-
marked Philadelphia. It stated, practi-
cally without a change, the exact manner
in which the murder had been committed.
It also stated that an attempt would be
made to conceal the murderer, and that it
was Thomas who had done it.
Whoever wrote this letter had certain
knowledge which proved of great value in
the investigation that foliowed by the po-
lice.
THE INCRIMINATING LETTER.
Following is the anonymous letter re-
ceived by Mayor Lewis :
She was killed by her brother Thomas.
The body was taken downstairs with the as-
sistance of the mother, and laid in the pas-
sageway. . The story was then made up be-
tween them about the carriage. The strug-
gle with the girl to get her to release herself
from one who was dragging her down to in-
famy culminated that night in a terrible
scene, in which the brother, brought to mad-
ness, killed her. It’s the same story—Vir-
ginius and his daughter, to save her from
Tarquin; with the same result, Tarquin not
killed, but the child, by Virginius.
(SIGNED), OCT. 28.
HIS RAGE AND SUICIDE.
There are friends of Thomas Bechtel
here who declare that the man was driven
crazy by the shame following the actions
of his sister. He had a personal dislike for
Weisenberg that almost amounted to a
mania. And when his sister, Mabel, per-
sisted in her improper conduct he only
struck her the first blow to correct her,
and not to kill her. The blow was a
powerful one, however, and knocked her
senseless. The police theory, as given out
is that he picked up the hatchet in a rage,
hit her in the forehead and killed her,
afterward mutilating her to make it look
more like a murder. .
The suicide of Bechtel was directly in
line with the character of the man. He
was high-strung and nervous, and possessed
of great strength and physical courage. He
was a corn-shucker, and it was with a
corn-shucker’s knife that he cut his throat.
LAST DEED QUICKLY DONE.
The details of Bechtel’s snicide are short
and simple. He was last seen alive about
5 o'clock, when Turnkey Roth spoke to
him in his cell. Ten minutes later Roth
spoke to him again, and, getting no an-
swer, found bim sweltering in blood on
the floor of the cell and breathing his last.
He lived but a moment and was dead be-
fore help could arrive. The knife with
which the deed was done was hidden in
his shoe. though he bad been carefully
searched before being locked up.
IMMENSE CROWD AT FUNERAL.
The morbid cariosity of many inhabi-
tants was given full sway at the funeral
ceremonies, which took place Thursday
afternoon. Long before 2 o’clock, which
was the appointed hour, the street in the
vicinity of the Bechtel home was filled
with peopie, who had been drawn there in
the hope of witnessing a sensation.
It was estimated that there were over
10,000 persons at the house during the
day, and when the ceremonies were pro-
gressing the little yard outside was packed.
During the faneral services Mrs. Bechtel,
the mother of the murdered girl, was pres-
ent, sitting in a big chair propped up with
pillows. She appeared to be on the verge
of prostration, and her grief was excessive
and deep. It was expected that some-
thing sensational would develop in the
funeral services; hus this did not prove to
be the case.
Rev. John Speck, of the Zion Church of
the Evangelical Association, addressed his
remarks entirely to the bereaved mother,
and did not refer to the tragedy.
The interment took place at West ceme-
tery. All the members of the family were
present, with the exception of Thomas
Bechtel, who was held by the authori-
ties. An attempt was made by At-
torney James L. Schadt to induce them
to permit the attendance of both Eckstein
and Bechtel at the funeral; but it was not
successful. Neither of them was able to
get hail.
The coffin in which reposed the remains
of the unfortunate girl was a beautiful one
of pearl gray, and it rested amid a profu-
sion of flowers in the modest parlor. Those
who knew the handsome gir! in life could
hardly recognize the features in the coffin.
The cruel traces of the brutal murderer
bad maimed and destroyed the features
until they bore no familiar resemblance.
Wheat Fields of Canada.
Manitoba Can Produce Twice as Much Wheat as
Russia.
Manitoba is preminently the province of
wheat. Westward of Winnipeg, when the
fields are yellow and almost ripe, you may
ride for a day and a half with nothing be-
tween your eye and the sky line but wheat
—a boundless sea of wheat, rippling to the
prairie wind like waves to the run of in-
visible feet, says the Chautauguan. The
tall red towers of the elevators rise where
settlements have clustered into a village;
but across the fenceless reaches is nothing
but the yellow wheat. The province is
only in its infancy. Only one-tenth of the
wheat lands are occupied; yet that tenth
yields more wheat than Great Britain, one-
fifth as much as the two Russias, twice as
much as Sweden, Denmark, Holland and
Belgium together, a third more than Aus-
tria, a fifth more than Roumania. When
all Manitoba’s wheat lands are occupied,
this province alone will be producing twice
as much wheat as Russia, four times as
much as Germany.
At each little prairie station, hosts of set-
tlers go out from the colonist cars of the
train and look with wonderingeyes on the
vast fenceless fields that seem to begin
where the sun rises and end where the sun
sets. It is a new world—a world of prom-
ise—to them, from the stifled countries of
Europe, a world where land hunger is no
crime, and land to be bad for the taking,
and success awaiting ripe to the hand of
toil. How the eyes that have dug them-
selves out in an Eastern sweat shop moist-
en at sight of the boundless prairies ! And
the back bent with toil for a pittance that
meant slavery draws up to the straight
stature of self-supporting manhood ! There
is so much free air ! There is such plain,
palpable, boundless opportunity for every
man ! .
Big Jump in Oil
High Reccrd Prices Now Being Paid Brings Joy
to Ohio Producers.
Another advance last Wednesday of two
cents in Western oil, placing the North
Lima produces at $1.32 per barrel, five cents
higher than ever known before, brought
joy to the hearts and dollars to the pockets
of the Ohio fraternity, which is thoroughly
aroused at the bullish aspect of the market.
The general feeling is that still higher
prices will be reached, and a tip from New
York says North Lima will reach $1.60 be-
fore the advance ceases.
Conditions for oil producers seem hetter
now than they have been for years, and
present prices will start the drill wherever
there is any chance at all to get oil. Old
fields are gradually declining, and much of
the new territory is so spotted as to make
results uncertain. With oil stocks still
lower than desired and a strong demand
the present prices do not seem abnormal
but merely in obedience to the law of sup-
ply aud demand.
Gave [is Life for His Dog.
George W. Allison, of Addison, was so
severely injured while crossing the Buffalo
and Susquebanna railroad bridge near
Galeton last Saturday afternoon, that he
died later in the evening. He was cross-
ing the bridge in company with several
friends when he heard a train approaching
and noticing his dog was on the track on
which the train was running, he tried to
push the animal out of the road with his
foot, when he lost his balance and fell, his
leg being caught between the ties in such
a manner that he was unable to free him-
self.
Lemonade and Champagne.
Some one asked Chauncey Depew upon
his return from Europe if champagne is
really the best thing one can drink to
avoid seasickness.
‘“Well,”’ replied the Senator, with his
never-falling ha-ha, ‘‘I like it very well
myself, but most people prefer lemonade.
It tastes about the same going both ways.’’
Sm —— i
His Choice.
‘““What kind of breakfast food do you
prefer ?” asked the landlady of the new
boarder. :
‘Flannel cakes and pure maple syrup,
buttered toasts, ham and eggs, and coffee,”
replied the young man, who had his appe-
tite with him.— Detroit Free Press.
Not the Slightest Idea.
Calvert, Jr.—*‘‘Do you know what this
cousin looks like, that you are waiting
for 2?
Baldy Moore—‘*‘No. I have only seen
her photograph, taken in an evening
gown.’’— Baltimore American.
Thought
Smith—*‘I don’t think much of De-
Jones.”’
Brown—*‘I do.”
Smith—‘‘Because why ?”’
Brown—*‘‘Because he owes me $5.— Chi-
cago News.
Generator.
Alaska’s Development.
Alaska was without a mile of railroad
four years ago. Now it has 10,000 miles
in operation, or under construction. The
big Territory, as itis prospected, will de-
velop many agreeable surprises.
Patriotie Worry,
‘‘Some men,’’ said Uncle Eben, ‘‘is so
worried ’bout what's gwine on in South
America an’ de Philippines dat dey clean
fohgits to keep deir own sidewalks swep’
off.— Washington Star.
oe IAG
Fatal Wreck.
One cf the Victims was Mrs. Emma Booth-Tucker,
of the Salvation Army. An Open Switch the
Cause. She Died Half an Hour After Being Found
—~Colonel Holland will also Die
Mrs. Emma Booth-Tucker, consul in
America of the Salvation Army, wife of
Commander Booth-Tucker, and second
daughter of William Booth, founder of the
army, was killed in the wreck of the Santa
Fe railroad’s eastbound California train
No. 2 near Dean Lake, Mo., eighty-five
miles east of Kansas City, last Thursday
night. Colonel Thomas C. Holland, in
charge of the Salvation Army at Amity,
Col., was fatally injured, but up to 3.30
Thursday morning was reported still alive.
Fifteen others were more or less hurt.
The dead and injured were taken to Fort
Madison, Ia.
Mrs. Booth-Tucker was rendered un-
conscious and died within half an hour
after being injured. Her skull was frac-
tured and she was injured internally.
Mrs. Booth-Tucker was on her way from
a visit to the farm colony at Amity, Col.,
to Chicago, where she was to bave met her
husband Friday. Although the wreck oc-
curred at 9.30 last Thursday night, it was
not known until after midnight that Mrs.
Booth-Tucker was among the injured. The
first details of the wreck were obtained
Friday by the Associated Press over the
long-distance telephone from Merceline,
through Dr. D. C. Putnam, who had been
at the scene.
The wrecked train left Kansas City last
Thursday. It ran into an open switch just
outside Dean Lake. Only the last three
cars—two Pullmans and a diner—were
wrecked. The Pullmans were demolished,
while the diner was hadly damaged. In
the forward Pullman Mrs. Booth-Tucker
and Colonel Holland, who were the sole
occupants of that car, had just gone to the
forward end for a consultation.
Two of the Pullmans struck a steel water
tank with such force as to move it five feet
from its foundation, and when the crew
reached the scene both Mrs. Booth-Tucker
and Col. Holland were found unconscious.
They, with the other injured, were after
much delay taken to the depot platform, a
few blocks distant. There everything pos-
sible was done for them. Neither regain-
ed conscicusness, and within half an hour
the noted Salvation Army leader succumb-
ed to her injuries.
Most touching was the scene in the home
of Booth-Tucker at Mount Vernon, N. J.,
when the news was carried to the seven
small children by Brigadier Alice Johnson,
who has been most closely associated with
Mrs. Booth-Tucker in her home and in her
work. Gathering all about her Mrs. John-
son told them that their mother had gone
away to another world; that their father
was sad and hears sick, far away, and need.
ed their sympathy and love.
When their eves were dried Frederick
and Catharine wrote in their own childish
way a telegram to their father telling him
of the deep grief in their home and of the
love of his children.
Mrs. Booth-Tucker, who was Miss Emma
Booth, married Frederick Tucker in 1888.
He assumed her name as part of his own.
He was born in India and lived there sev-
eral years after the marriage. He was
commissioner of the army in India. Mr.
and Mrs. Booth-Tucker were appointed ta
command the Army in America in March,
1896, succeeding Eva C. Booth, who had
supplanted her brother, Ballington Booth,
who had been removed by the General.
Mrs. Booth-Tucker was the second
daughter of General William Booth, and
was said to be the ablest of all the Booth
children. She had enthusiam tempered
with cold judgment and executive ability.
It was these qualities which induced her
father to send her to the United Sscates in
1896 to try to bring about harmony in the
American branch of the army. As an
orator she had few equal in either sex.
Ballington Booth and his wife then se-
ceded and founded the Volunteers of Amer-
ica.
Recorder Brown Poisoned.
Pittsburq's Late Executive Murdered—By Whom ?
Coroner's Jury Finds a Startling Verdict, But
People are Asking : “Will It Stop There 2”
‘We the jury, find that Joseph Owen
Brown came to his death suddenly at his
residence on Sunday, March 15th, 1903,
from poison having been administered:
said poison having been administered by
some person or persons unknown.’
Such, in effect, was the verdict rendered
Thursday by the Coroner’s jury in the in-
quest inte the death of the late City Re-
corder of Pittsburg. The jury was out
about three hours before arriving at a ver-
dict, having retired late Thursday after-
noon.
The charge of Coroner Jesse H. McGeary
showed that be believed that his uncle, the
late Recorder, had been poisoned, and
while he cleared the relatives of all blame,
he intimated that there might have been
persons interested in Brown’s death. He
instructed for an open verdict, however.
The questions now arise: ‘Who was the
party that administered the poison ? Will
the district Attorney and county authori-
ties take cognizance of the verdict and
make an inquiry into the matter ? ‘is an-
other question being discussed.
J. R. P. Brown. the brother of the late
Recorder, who started the inquiry into
his death, announced that he does not
intend to return to his ranch home for
some time, but refused to state whether he
would make any further inquiry.
Calf’s Bite Caused Death.
A Singular Happening to an Aged Farmer in New
York State.
Steuben county, - says the Rochester
Union, is to the front with a story of An-
drew G. DeWitt, sacrificing his life at the
age of 78 years, because of his fondness
for the fine bred stock for which his
farms are famous. Mr. DeWitt expired
after two week’s of critical illness from
blood-poisoning, which expert physicians
have traced to a mere scratch on one of the
aged man’s hands, sustained while he was
petting a calf.
The little animal seemed in a playfal
mood, and Mr. DeWitt put out a hand to
stroke the soft coat, when as quick as a
flash the calf bit his hand. The skin was
only broken in a spot smaller than a pen-
ny, and Mr. DeWitt never gave the mat-
ter a thought till ten days afterward, when
the hand gave signs of blood-poisoning.
A Clothespin for Each Tongue.
Committees from the medical societies
of Chester have been going to the public
schools this week examining the boys and
girls for any trace of diphtheria.
. Last Friday morning when the examina-
tions were begun each doctor was provided
with a bag of split clothespins, a fresh pin
being used, as a sanitary precaution, to
press down the tongue of each boy or girl
as the physician peered down at the ton-
sils. The pins were afterward burned.
New Feats in Medicine.
Investigation Directed to the Measurements of the
Pressure of the Blood.
Is is almost impossible to tell the tale of
a surgeon’s hopes or a physician’s expecta-
tions so that it will convey to the lay mind
the precise degree of information that is
ready to be transmitted. says ‘‘Harper’s
Weekly.” When the surgeon or the pbysi-
cian talks to his mates, as at the doctor's
conventions, his facts are understood and
his conjectures are sifted in the light of the
experience of his fellows, but we laymen
are apt to swallow whole the tales we read
of medical discovery and to be disappoint-
ed when the expectations we form are dis-
appointed. The papers have begun to dis-
close, for example. that experiments are go-
ing on tbat look to the cure of Bright's
disease by a surgical operation on the kid-
neys. Surgeons no longer stand on much
ceremony with the kidneys, but deal with
them as they would with the eyes or any
of the duplex organs, taking one out when
it is hopelessly disordered and making re-
pairs on such as are reparable. They say
one of the new operations for Bright's
disease is to peel off the outer coats of the
kidneys and leave them to work, as you
may say, in their shirt sleeves. At any
rate, some of the surgeons do some kind of
operations which is said to cure the patient
though the whole proceeding is still in the
experimental stage, and there has not been
time yet to determine whether the cure is
permanent.
The pulse has heretofore been the indi-
cator of the strength of the blood currents,
but now a long series of experiments on
animalsand humans has resulted in a
mechanical device which does the work
more accurately and supplies a record of
the absolute pressure, which can be meas-
ured by the rise of mercury in a graduated
tube. The precise nature of the contri-
vance used is too long a story to tell here,
but an inflated rabber bandage around the
arm is the basis of it. By means of it the doc-
tors think they can measure the precise ef-
fect of remedies long used to stimulate how
far aud how loug they serve the end intend-
ed. One of the results believed is that alcohol
is of less value than has been supposed in
keeping life in fever patients and surgical
patients who are suffering from shock. In
those latter cases, where the patient’s life
is ebbing because the blood duns too fee-
bly, outside pressure on the surface of the
body Mas been found to help.
administered by clothing the patient in a
double suit of rubber so contrived that it
can be inflated and subject the wearer's
whole body to gentle and uniform pres-
sure.
Sun Spots Form Changes.
They are Now in the Shape of a Letter VY. Small
Spots Brilliant. :
The spots which created so much distur-
bance on the sun’s surface abouts two
weeks ago have reappeared, the orb having
half revolved on its axis since the spots
disappeared. They were examined by
John A. Brashear, of Western university,
recently.
“The spots have changed greatly in
form,’’ said Mr. Brashear, ‘‘and are now
in the shape of the letter ‘Y,” witha very
dark nucleus. The other spots have
broken up into sacqule, which are more
brilliant than any other parts of the sun’s
surface. Photographs taken with a spec-
tro-heliograph show that there is great dis-
tribution in the calecinm vapor. One pho-
tograph shows two-thirds of the entire
spot.
A Denver, Col., dispatch says: Another
large spot group on the sun was discover-
ered recently by Hubert S. Howe, a fifteen-
year-old student at Denver; university and
a son of Prof. Herbert A. Howe, of the uni-
versity faculty. The young man is in the
preparatory department of the university,
but has shown such absorbing interest in
astronomy that he bas heen permitted to
make original investigations. His dis-
covery recently was made at noon, when
he found the sun spot just creeping about
the eastern edge of the sun.
Whipped by Twenty Women.
Man Who Threw Stones at a Young Woman Punish-
ed With Switches.
Clinton Godsey, twenty years old, resid-
ing in Baker township, Hamliten county,
Indiana, was whipped by the women of the
community last Tuesday night, twenty of
them taking part in the drubbing. The
immediate cause of the whipping, it is
said, was the fact he followed a young
woman home from church on Sunday night
and threw clods and stones at her because
she refused his attention.
Godsey was found at home when the
women called. He was taken into the
yard and whipped severely with switches.
He was then admonished to behave himself
in the future or the whipping would be re-
peated. :
Every Day Sort of a Boy.
A boy once applied for a situation.
“We don’t want lazy boys here,”’ said
the manager. ‘‘Are you fond of work?”
‘No, sir,”’ responded the boy, looking
the other straight in the face.
‘Oh, you're not, aren’t yon? Well, we
want a boy that is.”’
‘“There ain’t any,” said the boy, dog-
gedly.
*'Oh, yes, there are. We have had over
half a dozen of that kind here this morn-
ing to take the place we have.’
‘‘How do vou know they are ?’’: asked
the boy.
‘“They told me so.”’ :
“So could I, but I’m not a liar.”
the lad said ic with such an air of convine-
ing energy that he was engaged at once.
—=8St. Louis Globe- Democrat.
“In Their Full Dress Suits.”
About eight or ten young people who
boarded the train at Jersey Shore last even-
ing to say good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Ham-
ler, who were about to start on their wed-
ding trip, failed to get off the train, and -
were varried through to this city, where
they were obliged to remain until the next
morning, when they boarded the early
morning train and returned home. The
ladies and gentlemen in the party were in
their full dress suits. It was their inten-
tion at Jersey Shore to bid the couple good-
bye, and then get off the rear end of the
car, but the train got going so rapidly that
they could not jump off— Williamsport Sun.
Half Choked Before Hanging.
A terrible spectacle was witnessed last
week at Birmingham, Ala., when Felix
Hall, negro, was hanged for the murder of
Norwood Clark, white. When the drop
fell the rope slipped and the condemned
man bung for 10 minutes, only half chok-
ing. He was hauled up and the rope re-
adjusted. This time the fall broke his
neck. Hall's last act was to write a decla-
ration of his innocence.
And
It is best