I Demorra Wacpn Bellefonte Pe., Februrary 19, 1904. LP THR AN IMPROMPTU PRAYER. Now I lay me down to sleep— Don’t want to sleep; I want to think. 1 didn’t mean to spill that ink; I only meant to softly creep Under the desk an’ be a bear—— *T ain’t ’bout the spanking that I care. ’F she’d only let me ’splain an’ tell Just how it wasan accident, An’ that I never truly meant, An’ never saw it till it fell, I feel a whole lot worse’n her; I’m sorry, an’ I said I were. Is’pose if I'd just cried a lot An’ choked all up like sister does, An’ acted sadder than I wuz, An’ sobbed about the “naughty spot,” She’d said, ‘He sha’n’t be whipped, he sha’n’t,” An’ kissed me, but somehow, I can’t. But [ don’t think it’s fair a bit That when she talks an’ talks at you, Ap’ you wait patient till she’s through, An’ start to tell your side of 1t, She says, ‘Now that'll.do, my son; I’ve heard enough,” ’fore you've begun. ’F I should die before I wake—— Maybe I ain’t got any soul; Maybe there’s only just a hole Where’t ought to be—there’s such an ache Down there somewhere! She seemed to think That I just loved to spill that ink. — Ethel M. Kelley, in the Century. AS TOM SAW IT. The wind whistled sharply round the corner and Tom’s audience drew closer to- gether. The ragged coats and frayed trous- ers flapped dismally against the shivering little figure, and the newspapers in half a dozen benumbed hands rustled noisily. The speaker's voice drew more insis- tent. “I tell ye what, fellers,it was just great. Fuss, thar was the singin’ that made ye feel creepy way down ter yer toes an’ sent little shivers a-runnin’ up yer backbone. Then thar was a big stillness, so’s ye could most hear yerself think, an’ in a minute the old chap on the platform, he got up an’ said, ‘‘I wanter tell ye a story.’ Them’s jest his words, an’ he hadn’t said more’n that fore I felt’s if he had walked right down an’ picked me out o’ the whole gang an’ patted me on the shoulder and was talkin’ ter me—jest me, ye know. ‘And—well,”’ continued Tom, drawing a long breath, *‘I can’t half tell ye what he said —I whist I could; but he told about a chap that was like us once—sellin’ papers an’ blackin’ shoes an’ all that, ye know— an’ how he got ter be an engineer or the pres’dent of the United States—I furgit which, but ‘twas somethin’ that was big. He said thar wa'n’t no reesop why we couldn't be somebody, too; that all we’d got ter do was ter keep straight ahead an’ go square ev'ry time an’ stick it out an’ we’d git thar.”’ *‘Aw, Tom, what ye givin’ us?’’ called a derisive voice. Tom turned with fierce nods of his head. ‘Ye think it sounds fishy, Bill—an’ it does when I tell it, an’ we’re out here in the street an’ down on our luck; but ye'd jest oughter heard him said it, Bill. Why when he talked, I felt’s if I could black all the shoes in the city with jest a flip of my brush an’ that ’twould be no time ’tall fore I was drivin’ a team or rnnnin’ a ho- tel!” Could Dr. Cyrus Heminway have heard Tom’s ‘‘speech’’ he would have felt well repaid for the evening’s talk he bad given at the Newshoys’ Mission the week before; but could he, in addition to that, have fol- lowed Tom’s forlorn little fignre limping down the street, his heart would have warmed indeed. Tom was talking aloud to himself—a habit of his—and one that explained, perhaps, his ease as a ‘“‘public speaker.” ‘‘Oh—if I only could!”’ and he gaveade- lighted little skip. The impulsive move- ment brought a shadow to his face, and he looked down at the twisted, misshapen foot Ahat was not meant for skips and leaps. ‘“Thar ain’t uo use of thinkin’ of it,though —not for me, with that thing,’’ he added, dolefully. ‘‘I jest got ter give it up, thats all. But there’s Teddy an’ Dot—thar ain’t nothin’ ails their legs—bless ’em!”’ Tom’s face was visibly brightening—‘‘thar ain’¢ nothin’ ter hinder them bein’ somebody.’’ And be limped hurriedly around the cor- ner and began to climb the long flights that led to his garret home. ! Tom was nine when his father died, and he was not ten when his mother so gnickly followed—that white-faced, tired mother, who yet always had a loving word and a smile for him, and for Teddy and Dot. These two were so little then: they were hardly larger now, though two years older. “Skimpy soups and scraps don’t make folks very big,”” Tom would say. apologet- y. But Tom blackened shoes, sold papers ran errands, held horses—all in a frenzy of haste, from early morning until the last “‘extra’’ had been sold at midnight. The old cracked sugar-howl in the cupboard was Tom’s bauk, and his precious store of dimes and pennies was steadily growing larger. One snowy December day, Tom was hur- rying homeward, when a clanging engine almost ran him down. Shouting men and boys pushed roughly by. The crowd in- oreased and became almost impenetrable as he reached his own street. Tom was thoronghly frightened. The fire must be very near—and there was Teddy, Dot, and the sugar-bowl! He pushed and struggled and beat his tiny self against the surging human wall, A moment later be dashed into an alley not so crowded, and, by a detour, came out close by his own door. Policemen were forcing the crowds back and roping off an open space, firemen were shouting, engines were hissing and throbbing, and over all was the red glare of the flames. For a second Tom stood motionless; then deaf to warning shouts and heedless of out- stretched hands, he rushed through the door and up the stairs. Stumbling, crawl- ing—one flights, two flights, three, he passed; then choking and well-nigh breathless, he threw open the door of his room. The children were asleep. He shook them roughly. ‘‘Come —come quick!’ he gasped, catch- ing up Dot with a sweep of his right arm, and dragging Teddy to the floor with his eft. f : The air was stifling now. Darting . tongues of flame leaped from the cracks ov- er the doors, across the ball, and licked the dust from the walls. A orackling roar filled the children’s ears, and a suffocating smoke burned their eyes and throats. Crouching close to the floor, they gained the stairway and started, half sliding, half tumbling down the long flights. They bad almost reached the street when there was a crash, a blinding glare, a scorching something across their faces — then oblivion for Tom. Tom did not sell papers the next morn- ing. If he bad sold them, he might have seen his name at the top of the first page of most of them. In big, black letters he was called a “‘hero,’’ and his ‘‘daring rescue of sleeping children’’ was told, with many a laudatory adjective, beneath the picture of a boy carrying two children down a blaz- ing stairway. But all this Tom did not see. What he really did see was a long room, full of pret ty white beds, in oue of which he was ly- ing. He turned his head, and met the gaze of Dr. Cyrus Heminway—the man who had talked at the Mission. A glad flash of recoguition came ‘into Tom’s eyes. ‘‘It’s you, ain’t it? Well, I wanted ter tell yer,”” he began hurriedly, “‘T was goin’ ter do what ye said, but I couldn’t, ve know, on ‘count o’ my leg. But I’m goin’ fer make somethin’ of Dot an’—?’ he stop ped suddenly, his eyes widening in a frightened remembrance of the night before--‘‘Whar is Dot an’ Ted- dy?" he screamed his voice shrill with anx- iety. Then he fell back with tightened lips an’ a stifled ory of pain. “Steady, my lad, steady,’ soothed the big man gently; ‘‘the children are safe and well—thanks to you.’, “Did I git ’em out all right ? Somethin’ happened, seems so, long at the last—I can’t jest remember.’” The lips relaxed in a smile, then quivered pitifully, *‘I—I counldn’t git the sugar-bowl, though, an’ now I'll have ter begin all over.” The voice ended in a sigh, then suddenly com- menced again, with renewed vigor. ‘‘Say, whar am I, an’ what am I here for?” ‘‘You—well—you hurt yourself—a bis, my lad,” explained the man, stammering confusedly. ‘‘So they brought you to the hospital for me to fix up.” he boy’s face fell. ‘Long job—is it?” “Well, it will take a little while.’’ A big tear rolled down Tom’s cheek. “1 know what that means, an’ it’s all up. I jest can’t make nothin’of them now —twill take furever to catch up!”’ ‘‘Make nothin’ of—"’ “Dot an’ Teddy, ye know,’”’ supplied Tom. ‘I was goin’ ter make them like what ye said I'd oughter be.”’ “What I said,’’ repeated the doctor, more mystified than before. ‘Yes, down ter the Mission, ye know. You told how we’d all oughter do some- thin’ big an’ fine an’ he somebody. Well, I was goin’ ter be somebody myself, but my legs ain’t alike—one of ’em wa’n’t fin- ished up right, an’ so I'm counted out the game—’taint no use ter me ter try. But Dot an’ Teddy was difi’rent. They was all right, an’ I’d got a bowlful of chink saved up ter push them along an’ make somebody of them, an’—an’ now it’s all burnt up!” finished Tom, choking back a sob and winking fast and hard. Dr. Heminway did not speak. He walk- ed over to the window and stood for a long time looking at a lone leaf fluttering in a tree branch just outside. When he came back his eyes were moist. “We won’t count you out just yes, my boy. I’vehad a look at that foot of youre, and—I fancy I can ‘finish’ it so it will be like the other ome.” The doctor’s lips twitched a little. ‘‘And, meanwhile, we’ll fix up those other breaks and hruises, you managed to accumulate last night. Now just drink this and go to sleep.” Tom's eyes were luminous. He drain- ed the proffered glass, then handed it back. “Doctor, yer don’t mean yer can twist that foot o’ mine straight—just like t’oth- er?’ | The man nodded. “Jimmy!” murmured Tom, nestling happily among the pillows. ‘It don’t sonnd’s if it could be true,’’ he added, af- ter a long silence. ‘Then I’ll be like oth- er fellers an’ stand some show. My ! won’t it be great!” We'll all be pres’dents—an’ things. Dot an’ Teddy—an’—me. We'll all—be——"'the whole voice trailed off in- to an inarticulate murmur. A week later, between two and three o’clock in the afternoon, a lady and two small children came up the broad steps of the hospital, and were conducted by a white-capped nurse to Tom's side. Tom gazed blankly at the two well- dressed, bappy-faced children. wy it’s Dot an’ Teddy,’ he gasp- e \ The children, mindful of urgent admon- itions to be ‘‘quiet’”’ choked back their almost unmanageable glee. ‘‘We thought you wounldn’t know us!” chuckled Teddy. | live,’’ explained Dot eagerly, ‘‘an’—’’ ‘‘Yes, an’ we eat three times a day— heaps 0’ things!’ interrupted Teddy. ‘‘Meat, an’ pertaters, an’ oranges—’’ ‘An’ rasb’ry jam!’ gurgled Dot, blink- ing her eyes ecstatically. ‘‘An’ I’ve got stuskings dn shoes --both alike, an’—"’ ““ANW’ I’ve got a top an’ a knife an’—" say, Tom; you're better, ain’t you?’ Ted- dy broke off suddenly, mindful of the pur- pose of their visit. ‘Yes, dear, he’s better,’’ said Mrs. Mor- ton, laughing softly; ‘but be won’s be if you two chatter-hboxes stay much long- er!” : : This was but the first of many visits, which came more and more frequently as was the fact that Teddy and Dot were so well cared for. J: Miss Morton was a childless widow, and it was the newspaper picture of Tom carry- ing the children down the blazing stairway ‘that had caught her eye and had caused her to open her doors and her arms to the little wails. Long before Tom left the hos- pital the most precious things in the house, to Mre. Morton’s eyes, were Teddy and Dot, and the determination to keep them always grew stronger daily. Tom must have seen something of the sort in her face, for one day, after she had left the hospital, hie turned toward the doc- tor with troubled eyes, ‘‘She likes ‘em awful well, don’t she, doctor? I'm glad she likes ’em 80 much— I am, truly I am,’’ he added hurriedly. ‘Mrs. Morton bas a very kind heart, Tom,’’ returned the doctor, smiling. “I—they——] shounldn’t wonder—they’ll be somebody now, I guess,’’ Tom went on. I shonldn’t wonder,’’ agreed the oth- er. ¢I—I reckon they don’t need me an’ the sugar-bowl no more—do they?’ Dr. Heminway threw{a sharp glance at the quivering chin aud overflowing eyes. ‘‘Need you,” he sputtered, ‘need you; why, my boy, ‘peed’ is no name for it. They simp! gh oan’h get along without yon. Tush y ip Weis and see.’ : At last the ) hen Tom, a little weak, but ; and jubilant, ihe 4 steps, down ) B walked with # “An’ this is Mis’ Morton—Where we | Tom got stronger. Not the least of his joys | the long pavement leading from the hos- pital. Teddy and Dot, with skips and leaps of joy, danced along on either side. **Oh, it ¢s true!” murmured Tom ecstat- ically. °‘‘It truly is true. See, Idon’t hmp the littlest bit!’ In Dr. Heminway’s office now is a rough face, strong-limbed boy, who answers the bell, runs errands and keeps the office fresh and neat-at least he does all this when not in school. He wil tell you that he and Dot and Teddy ‘‘board’’ with Mrs. Morton and Mrs. Morton will tell you that she has been forced—through Dr. Heminway’s nun- yielding insistence—to accept each week a small portion of Tom’s ‘‘office-boy’’ wages in return for the home she gives the chil- dren. To be sure, these dimes and quar- ters paid in each week have never been spent. They are safely hoarded among Mrs. Morton’s dearest treasures. Tom js happy. Are not he and Dot and Teddy traveling the straight road that leads to being ‘‘somebody.’’——Eleanor H. Porter, in The Christian Herald. Collars by the Million Machines Will Turn out Marvelous Display at the Fair. Cloth Te Finished Progdct. Will Form Striking Contrast to nal Industry Start- ed by Blacksmith’s Wife Seventy-five Years Ago. When the wife of a blacksmith in Troy, N. Y., got tired washing and ironing her husband’s shirts with collars attached, it started her to thinking; and she finally picked up her scissors and cut a paper pat- tern and then the linen for a collar. That was over 75 years ago, and it was the first separate collar ever made in the world. This forgotten woman was the mother of invention that first conceived the idea from which has sprung the great industry that now provides this article of neckwear in artistic shapes for men and also mannish women. To-day the use of machines has supplanted band labor in nearly every de- partment of the industry, not only in the factory, but also in the laundry, and these machines will be seen in operation, turn- ing out collars and cuffs ready to wear, in the Manufactures Palace at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition. The collar and cuff display is to be one of the many working exhibits in this great building, and it will be quite interesting to all visitors. Comparatively few persons bave seen collar and cuff machines. This is owing to the fact that the industry is stiil practically concentrated at Troy, N. Y., and the immediate vicinity, where it originated over three-quarters of a century ago. CONSIDERED A GREAT REFORM. When the blacksmith’s wife started the fad of detachable collars, it was soon look- ed upon as a great reform in men’s wear in the little town of Troy. Old Ebenezer Brown who had retired from the Methodist pulpit and was devoting more time to saving dollars than souls, started a small dry goods store and was the first person to start a collar factory. The manufacture of collars soon become a paying business for Parson Brown, and history does not record that he ever returned to the pulpit. This Yankee-witted parson was blessed with a large family of girls, and at first they wade all the linen collars, the cloth being cnt to shape with scissors, band stitched, and starched and ironed upon the kitchen table. Soon the increasing de- mand for Brown’s ‘‘store collars’? became 80 great that he was compelled to secure the services of a large portion of the wives and daughters in the whole town. They flocked to his store, which was enlarged, where the cloth was cut on a wooden Ppat- tern, which was the forerunner of the modern cutting table. They then took the ready material to their homes and made, washed, starched and ironed the collars, and the shrewd parson paid them in merchandise from his store. He also knew how to drive a good bargain, as well as to preach a sermon on the sin of avarice, for each collar worker had to sign an agree- ment: ‘‘In pay you buy my goods.at my prices.’’ PERFECTION OF THE INDUSTRY. In 1845 the collar business put the idea into some man’s head to start a cuff and shirt factory in Troy. Then the invention of the sewing machine followed, and it was goon introduced into the manufacture of collars, cuffs and shirts, despite the ery of the workers against the labor-saving ma- chine. Then the application of steam ower later gave the industry a wonderful impetus by greatly decreasing the cost of production and causing a corresponding de- crease in the price to the consumer. Then, from time to time various machines for this special line of work were invented, until the industry thereby was enabled to reach ite almost perfect stage of today. In the manufacture of a standing collar he goods are sent to the cutter, who stretches the webs back and forth upon the table unti! the desired number of thick- nesses is obtained, when iron weights are placed at intervals to keep the cloth in posi- tion. The cutter then arranges the block patterns of the desired size and style, and, beginning at the edge of the cloth nearess to him, cuts away from him across the goods. The back and front of the collar are cut together, and a second cutting i8 required for the interlinings. a NINE MILLIONS IN TROY MILLS. The interlining in a four-ply collar is cut in one piece and doubled over. Ina straight standing eellar the facing is usu- ally of cambric muslin, except in the case of an all-licen collar, acd it must conform to the shape of the front of the collar. As soon as the seperate parts of a collar are ready to be put together the facings are sent to the girls known as ‘‘stampers’’ who stamp the name, brand, and size on the facings. Then the ‘‘pasters’’ arrange the various parts of the collar with paste, and it is to the ‘‘runners.”’ At this stage the interlining is without and the front and back are on the inside. The ‘‘run. ners’’ stitch the top and sides, and the collar goes to the ‘‘turners.”” The revers- ing or turning of the collar requires skill and is generally done by ‘‘home workers,” although some factories have machines for this work. The collar then goes to the stitching room proper, where the final sewing is done, and then the buttonholes are made. The making of a turn-down collar is somewhat more complicated than that of a standing collar, as it requires two parts, a top and a band, while the standing collar is generally all of une piece. After the collars and cuffs are finished, sorted and counted, they go to the laun- dry, and are then ready for the market. About $9,000,000 are invested in this in- dustry at Troy, N. Y. Mrs. Helen Yockey. Mrs. Helen Yockey is dead at her home at Craigsville, Armstrong county,Pa. Mrs. Yockey was one of the largest women in Western Pennsylvania, weighing 300 pounds, and being six feet tall. PLEASANT FIELDS OF HOLY WRIT Save for my daily range Among the pleasant fields of Holy Writ, I might despair —Tennyson. THE INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL LESSON. First Quarter. Lesson 1x, Matt. vil, 21—29 Sunday February 28, 1904. HEARERS AND DOERS OF THE WORD. Macaulay says of Pitt that he conld pour forth a long succession of stately periods without premeditation, in a voice of silvery clearness. Perbaps he reached the zenith of oratorical fame in his speech on the abolition of the slave-trade. Fox, Gray, Windham, contemporaries and themselves adepts at the art of speaking, agreed that it was the most extraordinary display of eloquence ever heard. Where is that speech? A memory only! We have an American analogue in Web- ster. There he stood hefore an entranced Congress, his very soul blazing in those deep caverns below his marble brow, as he poured forth his ‘‘Reply to Hayne.”’ ‘"His statement was argument, his inference was demonstration.’”” Where is that speech? Just a memory, though only two genera- tions have passed since it~ delivery. Two millenniums ago a Galilean availed himself of one of nature's auditorinms, and, when the unsynagogued congregation gathered, he opened his mouth and taught them. That assembly dissolved; bus in each successive generation a new and ever- increasing throng has come together. As from the sounding-board of the open heav- ens, the old sermou bas struck the ear of each new congregation. The sermon Jesus preached is no dream of ideal eloquence. It lives in every dialect. It is the most potent composition in written « speech. Millions know it by heart; millions live by it. But some one will say, Jesus only bor- rowed the aphorisms of the rabbi, after all. They will.pnt the Talmudic sayings in parallel column with those of the Messiah, and thus discount his originality. Put those rabbinical maxims hack into their context, however, and you almost invari- ably find them on a lower plane, and often moving in a direction opposite to the teach- ing of Jesus. Again, if Jesus taught the same truth as the rabbis, why then were they offended with him? He may have used the modes of speech current in his day but it mast be admitted also that he made them the vehicle of a diviner meaning. Miss Martinean, in her ‘Life in the East,”’ a melange of happy description and unhappy theology, dismisses Jesus as an Essene. But the merest tyro ought to know that the trend of Jesus' teaching is fundamentally opposed to that of the Essensa. They were the most esoterio, unmissionary sect extant. How coald he who said. ‘‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature,’’ be an Essene. Oa purrfication, the Sabbath, the resurrection, Jesus was in diametric opposi- tion to that strictest and tiniest of sects. To’affirm identity on finding a point or two of similarity is unphilosophical in the ex- treme. . Apart from, infinitely above the rabbi on the one hand and the Essene on the other Jesus stands the original and unceasing Teacher of the race. He speaks with iauthority to the universal human heart, lluminating, inspiring, empowering it. He is not a channel through which truth flows perturbed, perchance, and corrupted with human prejudice and error in its passage. So he could say not only, ‘‘I speak the truth,”’ bat, ‘I am Truth.’’ He is the original source, not the transmitter; a fountain, nota condnit! Again, he is not the institutor ofa system of doctrine, not the formulator of a ritual. He comes to inspire a life in the soul to set up a kingdom within, which consists not in the externalities and com- parative trivialities of sacrifice and oblation but in that indispensable righteousness whose concomitants are peace and joy. So he conld say also, ‘‘The words that I speak Buie youn, they are spirit, and they are ife. THE TEACHER'S LANTERN. An all-night vigil of meditation and prayer was Jesus’ preparation for two supremely important acts: First, the choice and ordination of his apostles; second, the delivery of his most extended discourse. * * * * * St. Augustine originated the theory of a twofold sermon: one on the mount, and the other on the plain: one to the Church, and the other to the masses. The theory is de- signed to reconcile the accounts of Luke and Matthew, and to cover what seems to some a premature .enubciation of doctrine to the people at large. ; * * * * * The theory seems a supererogation. No part of the sermon is esoteric or confiden- tial. It is the enunciation of a public pro- gram of dootrine and duty for the whole people. And thereis a spiritnally correct and ttue harmony between Luke and Mat- thew. ; * * * * Vw Edershimie’s analysis is excelent. *“View- ing it in the light of the time, we might mark in it alike advancement on the Old Testament, (or rather, unfolding of its in- most yet hidden meaning) and contrast to contemporary Jewish teaching. Aud here we would regard it as presenting the fall prayer and of righteousness—in short, of the inward and outward manifestation of discipleship. (Edersheim, ‘‘Life of Jesus,” Vol. I, 527,) . * *® ® * *¥ Westcott’s analysis is equally good. 1- The citizen of the kingdom (Mats.v, 1-16) their character absolutely (3-6), relatively (7-12), their influence (13-16). 2. The new law (17-48), as the fulfillment of the old generally (17-20), specially murder adultery, perjury, revenge, exclusiveness (21-48). 3. The new life (vi, vii, 27), acts of devotion (vi, 1-18), aims (19-34), ocon- duot (vii, 1-12), dangers (vii, 13.23). 4 The great contrast. ( Westcott’s Intredue- tion, page 358.) * * * * » The excellent glory of Jesus’ teaching is that he carries the law into the inmoss part. He prescribes nothing external. He wants she spirit of the law infused’ into the heart. Nothing short of this constitutes a disciple of Jesus. * * * * * Objection has been raised against the Sermon on the Mount that it does not enunciate the doctrine of the new birth. True it does not do so categorically. It does so inferentially, however, and beyond question. The corrupt tree must be trans. formed, made entirely new, before it can bring forth good fruit. A man must bea new creature before he can begin to exem- plify the Spirit Jesus enjoins. CHILD-STUDY AND SUNDAY-SCHOOL METH- ODS. A series of questions were propounded to the children of the primary grades in the pablie schools of Boston some time since. he questions related to the commonest ES delineation of the ideal man of God, of things of nature, changes of season, day and night, rain. ice, snow, light, lightning and thunder. The answers to these ques- tions are a study in psychology. They illustrate the erndity of the mental concep- tions of little children and the oddity of their use of language. Successful teaching absolutely requires that the teacher shall find the children where they are; shall get into the same world with them, and use terms and symbols thas are intelligible to them. And this is to be done without affectation, which children are quick to de- tect and resent. In Homor of Washington. Ye Hostesses, Here are Some New and Quaint Ways by Which to Entertain Your Guests on Saturday Evening—By the Hostess. Snch a fetching little idea has come out for celebrating the 22nd of this month ! It is called a Colonial Art Party, and is one that any hostess can prepare for so far as the game of the evening i8 concerned, in fifteen minutes. To arrange for an affair on this new plan out from white paper or cardhoard as many little slips as you expect guests for she evening. On each slip write the name of some event in early American history. Here area few specimens to show the nature of the events :--- Braddock’s defeat by the Indians. The Boston Tea Party. The First Congress at Philadelphia. The Battle of Lexington. The Battle of Bunker Hill. Washington assumes command of the army. These slips, twelve, twenty-five or thirty in number, as the case requires, are jumb- led together in a bag. Each person enter- ing the room draws one from the bag. He is requested to keep the name of the event written upon it strictly secret. He receives with a slip a white pasteboard card about eight by ten inches in size to which a blue ball room pencil is attached with red rib- bon. When all guests have arrived, the hostess asks each man or girl todraw upon the white card a picture of the event named upon the slip he or she bas drawn. No one is excused for any’ reason whatever from making the attempt. Lack of skill in drawing is not received as an excuse. Half an hour is allotted for the art work. At the end of the appointed time a bell rings and the drawing stops. Cards are passed from hand to band around the cir- cle, each person writing down the name of the event as he supposes it to be marking it with the number on the card for refer- ence. i When all have guessed each artist is call- ed upon to say what event he portrayed, and the man or girl whose list numbers most correct answers receives a prize. A vote is next taken up to decide which sketch is cleverest, each person present voting for avy sketch except his own, and signing his ballot with his name. The artist who carries the election wins an ad- ditional prize. A good biography of Washington or a standard work on Colonial times in Amer- ica makes a suitable prize for the gentle- man. The lady could receive a little bon- bonniere in the shape of a Continental cocked hat filled with red, white and blue bonbons. Colonial buff and blue form a most at- tractive color scheme for decorating the rooms. Yellow and blue hyacinths or tulips can be effectively grouped together in cut glass bowls or vases. The walls can be readily and quickly draped in the chosen colors by employing the new tissue paper bunting which all progressive dealers and stationers now keep in stock. | . A PATRIOTIC CARD PARTY. | 0 en 0 Many fashionable women will entertain this year by patriotic’ card parties. The favorite game, whist, euchre, hearts---as the case may be---ischosen and a red, white and blue setting prepared for it. Chandeliers are decorated with broad bands of tri-color ribbon, terminating in bowknots and supporting pompons of arti- ficial flowers in the patriotic hues. Each card table has its bowl or vase of red, white and blue carnations intermingled with bouquets of violets. The guest on entering the room is given a wee silk flag bearing the number of the table at which he or she is to sit. Instead of score cards women are given opera glass bags of red, white and blue figured silk, while the men receive small sleeve link boxes in red leather tied with white and blue ribbon. On each table stands a cut glass dish fill- ed with beans dyed in the tints required by the occasion. Whenever a point is gained, instead of a star to paste upon his tally, the player receives a bean to put into bag or box. ; After the game is over the maids remove the cards and cover each table with a dainty tea cloth. Supper is served upon the tables | instead of adjourning to the dining room. Red, white and blueshould figure prom- inently in the menu. Ices can be had from your caterer in the form of little cherry trees, flags, layers of red, white and blue, ete. Sandwiches can be tied with United States color. Strawberries served on blue saucers when covered with cream give the desired combination. Little individual baskets containing white grapes, blue plums and rosy apples are fetching as souvenirs. 0 0 | A RECEPTION INCOG. | 0 - 0 A reception incog is a gay little plan for celebrating the natal day without great ex- pense to the hostess. For it each player is asked to come representing some character of Washington’s time. : It could be explained in the invitation notes that cheese cloth, calico and other cheap materials are preferred and that no expensive dresses should be worn. This will bring the party within the reach of those who might not be able to attend if great expense were involved by the costum- ing. The players assembling on the night of the party confide their chosen characters to the hostess, who writes down each name of grande, dame, belle or bean opposite the everyday name of the visitor. : Cards and pencils, tied with red, white and blue ribbon, are distributed to the invited entering the room. At a given signal from the hostess all present endeavor to guess as many as possible of the early Americans represented. Polite question- ing is perfectly allowable, but the person questioned is at liberty to parry the in- terrogation or answer it ambiguously if able to do so. A prize awaits the man or girl: who is most successful in distinguishing between Martha Washington and Lydia Darrah; between Lafayette and Ben Franklin. This incognito reception isa great im- provement upon the former idea of a Martha Washington levee, as it keeps one’s guests interested long after the mere novel- ty of the costumes has worn off. A cotillion makes a jolly termination for the evening. Favors for this dance shouid, of course, be of land in most countries. * in touch with the occasion. Our shops are now showing some delightful novelties, such as cockades filled with candy,artificial cherry trees,growing in papier mache pots, medallions of Washington tied with rib- bon, portraits of the Father of his Country are executed in chocolate, banners, liberty bells and cherry sprays in the same deli- cious edible. ? 0 pn -0 | A UNITED STATES PARTY. | 0 0 What could be more appropriate in the way of an entertainment for Washington’s birthday than a contest founded on the States he did so much to unite and other States that followed as a result of his wise policy ? An excellent game for a merrymaking of this sors is called State Nicknames. To play it buy a package of blank cards, carte de visite size, and decorate each one with a border of red, white and blue. Eicher water paint or colored chalks can be used for the hordering. Number each card and write upon it one of the following ques- tions, omitting, of course, the answer, which are added here for the convenience of the hostess :— What is the Hoosier State ? Indiana. The Nutmeg State? Connecticut. The Keystone State ? Pennsylvania. The Buckeye State? Ohio. The Palmetto State? South Carolina. The Pine Tree State? Maine. The Prairie State? Illinois. The Sucker State? Illinois. The Lone Star State ? Texas. The Lumber State? Maine. The Mother of States? Virginia. The Mother of Presidents ? Virginia. The Old Dominion ?. Virginia. The Old North State? North Carolina. The Hawkeye State ? Iowa. The Green Mountain State ? Vermont. The Granite State? Vermont. The Freestone State ? Connecticut. The Empire State? New York. The Diamond State ? Delaware. The Creole State? Louisiana. The Corn Cracker State ? Kentucky. The Blue Hen? Delaware. The Bay State? Massachuetts. The Bayou State? Louisiana. The Bear State? Arkansas. ~ The Badger State ? Wisconsin. The cards asking these questions are pass- ed from hand to baud. Pencils and paper are distributed and players asked to write down as many of the answers as occur to them. The prize winner receivesa book of photographio viewsshowing the most beau- tiful scenes in our country. | MAP GUESSING. | Again the States can be guessed by maps instead of nicknames, if the hostess so elects. An equally enjoyable game results. A little preparation is necessary but it is not of an expensive kind and makes in- hstructive work for spare moments now and then in the days that precede the party. Take tracing paper and carefully copy the outlines of the various States from a geographical atlas. Reproduce them on colored cardboard and cut them ont with sharp scissors. Have some of the States green, some yellow, some blue, etcetera, to give the effect of .a map. Fit them together to see that each outline is correct and num- ber each with gold paint. Cards tied with tri-color cords are distributed when the game is about to begin and players are asked to identify each State, writing down its name with the number of the card that represents it. A pocket atlas makes an usefal prize and one that any busy man or woman would appreciate. THE HOSTESS. Overcrowded Java Population Too Great for Prosperity of Island The Dutch and the leading natives in Java are of the opinion that the popula- tion is increasing too rapidly for the good of the island, says the New York ‘‘Sun.”’ The census, taken every five years, has long shown an increase of over 2,000,000 for each census peroid, and rate of growth has consequently accelerated. The increase of population from the census of 1895 to that of 1900 was over 3.000,000. Java is only a little larger than New York State, and the central regions are too mountainous for a very dense population. The fact that the last census showed a total population of 28,745,698 indicates a frightful congestion of humanity over [all the coastal and interior plains and valleys. The density of population is 568 persons for every square mile of surface, which is greater than in any province of China, excepting in Shantung. If France had the same density of population its inhab- itants would number 120,000,000; the United Snates at the same rate, would have 1,688,000,000 which is about 100,000,000 more than the estimated population of the world. Such packing of humanity as this at least illustrates the fact that when every acre of tillable land is stimulated to its highest ‘productivity it will give sustenance to several times the number of persons who are now supplied with food from an acre The Javanese are still able to raise all their raw food and to export the products of their planta- tions and forests to the amount of millions of dollars a year. But they are already talking about a time to come when they will no longer be able to produce on their island all the food they require. Kruger Hanged. Greensburg Murderer, Respited Last Month by the Governor, Calmly Met His Fate. Charles E. Kruger, the murderer of Con- stable Bierer, who was reepited by Governor Pennypacker until his sanity could be inquired into, was hanged Thursday morning io the county jail at Greensburg and went to his doom without a tremor. With apparent deep interest, he sat in his cell last night, leisurely puffing a cigar and watching the construction of the gallows in the corridor of the jail. He asked the carpenter to permit him fo drive a few nails into the instrument of death, but hss request was refused. Kruger’s mother came from East Liverpool, O., and they conversed for some time, and both seemed resigned to the’ fate awaiting the murderer. 3 Several months ago Kruger made a confession, in which he said he was Jobn Blevins, the city treasurer of Newoastle, Pa., who was murdered five years ago. It was this and his record at several insane asylums in Ohio that led to an inquiry into his sanity, and, pending this, a respite by the Governor was granted. Dr. George MacLeod, of Philadelphia, secretary of the state board of lunacy, made the ex- amination and pronounced Kruger sane, but a moral degenerate. ———A conservative estimate is an excel- lent thing to have on hand when the as- sessor calls. ——Subseribe for the WATCHMAN.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers