Demoreaic aly
Bellefonte Pa.. November 18, 1904.
A —————————————————
LEFT ALONE.
T’s the lonesomest house you ever saw,
This big gray house where I stay,—
I don’t eall it livin’ at all, at all,—
Since my mother went away.
Four long weeks ago, an’ it seems a year ;
“‘Gone home,” so the preacher said,
An’ 1 ache in my breast with wantin’ her,
An’ my eyes are always red.
I stay out-of-doors till I'm almost froze,
’Cause every corner an’ room’
Seems empty enough to fri hten a boy,
An’ filled to the doors with loom.
I hate them to call me in to my meals,
Sometimes I think I can’t bear
To swallow a mouthful of anythin’
An’ her not sittin’ up there
A-pourin’ the tea, an’ passin’ the things,
An’ laughin’ to see me take
Two big lamps of sugar instead of one,
An’ more than my share of cake.
There’s no one to go to when things go wrong;
She was always so safe an’ sure.
‘Why, not a trouble could tackle a boy
That she couldn’t up an’ cure,
I'm too big to be kissed, I used to say,
But somehow I don’t feel right,
Crawlin’ into bed as still as a mouse,—
Nobody sayin’ geod-night,
An’ tuckin’ the clothes up under my chi,
An’ pushin’ my hair back, so ;
Things a boy makes fun of before his chums,
But things that he likes, you know.
I can’t make it ont for the life of me
Why she should have to go
An’ her boy left here in this old gray house,
A’needin’ an’ wantin’ her so.
There are lots of women, it seems to me,
That wouldn’t be missed so much,—
Women whose boys are about all grown up,
An’ old maid aunties, an’ such.
1 tell you the very lonesomest thing
In this great big world to-day,
Is a boy of ten whose heart is broke
*Cause hie mother is gone away.
— Toronto Globe.
TWO KNIGHTS OF THE GRIDIRON
We were sitting in a little room which
Tom Farness called his study. Just why,
it would be hard to tell, unless a collec-
tion of pipes, hunting trophies, sporting
prints, and an entire absence of anything
like a book qualified. We were enjoying
our last cigars before bed ; tomorrow was
Thanksgiving, and we were discussing the
football game. Now this was, in Tom’s
mind, a much more important adjunct of
the day than a thankful spirit, or even the
turkey itself.
‘“Yes,’’ said Tom, ‘‘a battle royal it will
be. I wouldn’t miss it for a Congression-
al nomination. In the first place, Mar-
shall and Ross are about the two best
‘tackles’ that have shown since your
humble servant illustrated just how the
position should he played.” (This last
with one of Tom’s inimitable chuckles).
‘Besides the honor of their colleges, they
have the question of personal supetiority
to settle. And then, again, you see,
Brown, there’s Madge.’
Now, Miss Madge Willard was Tom’s
cousin, a stunning girl from California,
and though I followed his meaning down
to the last clanse, enjoying greatly the
modest way in which he alluded to his own
game, I was a bit puzzled to connect her
with the subject under discussion.
“Well, Tom,” said I, ‘‘wbat in the
world bas Madge to do with it? I should
hardly think her the girl to care much for
football, anyway. She spent half Ler time
at dinner discussing with the Rev. Arthur
Jones the difference between Browning’s
types of love in the seventeenth and eigh-
teenth centuries, and the other half was
divided between a rather hearty apprecia-
tion of her dinner and a decided criticism
of the presentation of Tristram and Isolde
at the Academy.’’
‘Never you mind Madge,” answered
Tom, blowing a cloud of smoke toward
the ceiling, and watching it rise with balf-
closed eyes. ‘‘She is like all girls, with
two sides to ber nature. Indeed, I think
I have discovered cases revealing even
more than two.’’ This last given with the
seriousness of one who has seen much of
life, and philosophized deeply on ite most
difficult problems.
‘The facts are,” he continued, “'in sum-
mer Madge forgets all about books and
Browning. She is an out-of-doors girl, who
plays tennis and golf, rides a little, and
last season spent half her time in the
water. Brad Marshall and Malcolm Ross
were both at the ‘Pier ;* the first for the
whole summer, and the laiter for several
weeks. They were hard hit, as well as a
dozen others, who found themselves out
of the running against such good horses.
Perbaps you haven’t noticed those hrown
eyes of hers? Well, they are deadly at
any range inside that of a Martini rifle.
She treats both men alike in a bonne cam-
araderie sort of way, although Molly says
she is perfectly certain that they have as
good as offered themselves, and they are
enormously polite to each other.
‘‘Do you know, Brown,’’ Tom added, re-
moving his eyes from the ceiling, and look-
ing at me wisely, ‘‘this football match on
Thanksgiving day is not between Yale and
Princeton, to see which eleven will carry
‘the pigskin over the most yards of mother
earth—not at all. It is a joust between
Marshall and Ross, to show who is the bet-
ter man, at least, better in the eyes of the
queen of the tourney, pretty Mistress
Madge Willard.’
* *Twill spoil their game,” said I.
‘Not a hit,’’ answered Tom ; ‘twill
help Ross, who plays the best defensive
game you have ever seen—barring, of
course, my own in its palmy days. He
lacks aggressiveness, however, and needs
a bit more of the old boy in him to do per-
fect work. Of course Madge isan angel
without wings, but she wiil inspire Ross
with just that evil spirit tomorrow. He is
one of those light-haired, blue-eyed fel-
lows who wishes well to all the world, and
18 not quite sure whether he wants him-
self or the other chap to win. This has
spoiled many a good man, as you yourself
well know. Ross needs a deal of stirring
up to set him going, and this is where
Madge will come in again.’’
“But how about Marshall,” I asked 3
‘‘he is said to possess a useful elbow, and
has the reputation of playing as rough a
fame as possible and keep within the law.
Those black eyes of his show signs of tem-
per, too, or they are a libel on their own-
er.
‘Ob, Marshall will be all right; this is
his fourth year; he played another four at
Aucdover before he came to college, and he
will simply go to the limit. By gad!’
know why Marshall changed over from
left to right side this reason; they said it
was because the Yale right needed strength-
ening, hut I believe it was simply to
bring him up against Malcolm. I wonder
if he’s made a mistake, for, mark my
words, he will find Ross a tough morsel
enough, after he gets well waked up.”
‘Which does Miss Willard favor?’’ asked
I, much interested.
“That’s more than I know,’’ answered
Tom. ‘‘My wife says Madge hasn’t made
up her mind yet; that she is one of the
girls that allow themseives to drift along
till they strike the gulf stream. and then
there is a sudden and severe thaw. She
says that Madge has romantic ideas of a
lover, who shall be at one and the same
time the strongest, morally, mentally and
physically, of all men on earth. This isa
common mania at nineteen, very likely to
give place to a more moderate ideal a little
later, but held to most tenaciously fora
time. Molly says that she thinks to mor-
row may bring the thaw. She may be
right—who knows?’
‘‘Well, may the best man win,’’ said I,
as I threw the end of my cigar away, and
started for the door, candle in hand.
“Which do you back?’
“I like Ross myself,’”” answered Tom,
“but Molly prefers Marshall, who is a
stunningly handsome fellow, and has
dollars to Malcolm’s dimes. A nice girl
like Madge is pretty safe to make a mess
of it, however, and choose the wrong man,
though either of the hoys is a good enough
match, as men go. Molly wanted to ask
them both to dinner to-morrow, but Miss
Madge demurred; I don’t know why.”
‘‘Well, Icansee them at the gameat
any rate,’’ said 1, ‘‘and it isa very pretty
little romance you tell, whether it has any
foundation on fact or not.”’
‘‘There’s fact enough, Brown, as you
will easily discover to-morrow; it will bea
good deal like that stag fight in the picture
over the mantel. Landseer didn’t need to
put a young deer in the picture for yon to
know that thereis one, somewhere near,
which will be the reward of the winner of
that elegant scrap.”
“True enough,’ answered I, as I said
good-night. The best fighting the world
has ever seen, since Helen of Troy, has
been over a pretty woman—God bless them
all 1”?
Thanksgiving Day dawned with a fain
tinge of color in the East, a thin, cold
mist, and not enough wind to lift the
smoke from the chimneys. I awoke from
a dream in which Marshall and Ross
figured, engaged in deadly combat, armed
‘‘cap-a-pie’’ with helmet and greaves, but
their breasts protected only by canvas foot-
ball jackets, and the lists were, strange
to say, marked off with five-yard lines.
Miss Madge sat in a high seat as queen of
the tourney.
The morning 1 spent down town with
some old friends, and took an early train
for the grounds. After the usual ex-
perience of the crowded car, the crowded
entrance, and the crowded aisle, I at last
found my seat by myself, after being
shown the wrong 10w entirely by one of
those extremely amiable maniacs—an
amateur college usher.
Our seats were in the centre of the mid-
dle section, on the Princeton side, and we
could run our eyes straight along the fifty-
yard line. On my left was Tom himself,
on my right Miss Willard, and beyond her
Mrs. Furness, who was looking forward to
the experiment of a first game. She was
cold and uncomfortable, considered the
whole thing a bore, and was in a nervous
state over certain painful injuries, if not
untimely deaths, which she should be call-
ed upon to witness. Her sympathies were
decidedly with Yale, on account of an old-
er brother who had once sported the blue,
and also, I imagine, because of her liking
for Brad Marshall. Neither Tom nor I
cared a picayune, so long as we saw a good
game, and Miss Willard professed a like
disinterestedness in the game.
Facing us across the field was a long
blue wave, from which came an occasional
roar, like breakers on a stony beach. Be-
fore us stretched the gridiron. How peace-
ful it looked, with its gray turf and brown
earth, over which the white chalk lines ran
in unbending straightness.
A few policemen were the only living
beings yet visible on its snrface, and they
skirted the sides, and decorated the cor-
ners. When one of them stepped on a
side line, Mrs. Farness said she felt as if
Katrina had dropped a piece of china. At
this remark, Miss Willard smiled, and
then, turning to me, asked what would
have been a commonplace question from
any other lips. I saw she was a bit dis-
trait, and, though she looked at me when
she spoke, her big brown eves had a decid-
edly far-away expression. I am not sure
she heard my answer, although she smiled
and nodded.
She had not the least sign of color about
ber that could possibly be construed into
orange or blue. She told Tom at break-
fast, when he suggested a skillful blending
of the color, which should hide all prefer-
ence, that she should show one color or
pone at all—a remark that pleased me
well. She wore a long gray wrap, with a
sable collar that nearly hid her face. As
she looked out over the field, all that I
could see was a bit of smooth forehead,
some long lashes, a nose that declined to
turn blue a small section of a cheek, and a
pair of red lips.
Mrs. Farness asked ber if she did not
feel frozen, and I could easily believe her
‘‘not in the least chilly,’ for she showed
no sign of cold, although I could feel the
east wind through sweater and thick coat.
In front of us sata fat wan who was
making heroic efforte to keep the cold out,
and by his side, was our friend, *Know-it-
all.” This specimen was a little chap with
big eyeglasses, his hat on the back of his
head, and a high ulster collar up to his
nose. °
After a concise history of the game, and
a short list of ite rules, he launched into a
description of the two teams and the mer-
its of the individual players. I felt a slight
start from Miss Willard as Know-it-all re-
marked, ‘‘I tell you, the weak place is left
tackle; Ross is not in the same class with
Marshall. In the first place, he has not
the weight, strength, nor sufficient experi-
ence, and, most of all, he lacks the sand.”’
At this Jast remark, I noticed that
Madge colored, though other sign she gave
not.
‘You mark my words,”’ continued our
instructor, ‘*Yale always chooses the weak-
est place in the line, and hammers and
pounds away at it until it breaks, and
then she scores all she wants to win. I
tell you I bave seen her play enough to
know that, and don’t yon forget it. Ross
is the weak place, and will get all he
wants. I'll bet a five dollar note he quits
before the first half is over.
Just then the blue wave in front of us
rose up and broke into a perfect roar of
cheers, as its team came lumbering on the
field with subs, trainers, and coaches.
They had scarcely begun to limber up
said Tom, jamping to his feet, ‘‘I’ll bet I
when there was a mighty cheer, and we
were fairly lifted to our feet as the Prince-
ton team streamed through the gate, and
began to pass and fall on the ball, the
backs exchanging punts meanwhile. A
lot of tigers’ whelps they were, with their
striped stockings and jerseys. There was
almost more than the eye could follow ;
nmpire, referee and linesmen, reporters,
boys with flags and score cards mixed up
in unintelligible confusion. Above it all
rang the cheers, ‘‘Rah, rab, rah, Yale,”
sounding like volleys of hot shot.
Suddenly the little knot of men around
the referee and umpire broke up. The
gridiron was cleared, as if a broom had
been swept over it, of all bot the two
elevens and the officials. Heavy sweaters
were pulled over shaggy heads as the men
hastily stripped down to their greasy can-
vas jackets and stained ‘and soiled jerseys,
ready for the fray.
Yale has the ball, and her Captain
places it carefully on the line, and his men
gather round him a moment as he gives
them his last words of instruction. Then
they face around with the big centre stand-
ing over the ball, and the men form behind
him in a wedge of a good ton weight of
bone and hard muscle.
In front of them the Princeton Jinesmen
strain on the mark like dogs at a leash, and
behind them the backe spread well out to
guard against a breakaway.
It is at this moment that the great
silence always falls. To-day, even Know-
it-all forgets to speak. Most of the specta-
tors discover a temporary valvular affection
of the heart, and teeth chatter from excite-
ment like castanets.
It is with a real sigh of relief we see the
big centre suddenly stoop, lift the ball pass
it quickly back, and the ponderous wedge
starts down the field, with beads low, and
shoulders welded together. The Prinee-
ton line spring forward as if the leash was
broken by the lifted ball, their centre and
guards strike the wedge in front. low and
hard, while the tackles plunge into the
sides as if they would tear it to pieces. The
mass totters a moment or so and rolls over,
having made a few yards’ gain.
The pile breaks quickly, the men spring
to their places, and now for the first time,
we can see our knights, face to face. It
hardly looks a fair match. Marshall is a
big, ruddy, handsome fellow, with dark
eyes and a thick mane of brown hair, his
weight is well down, and he makes play
with his arms and shoulders in a mighty
suggestive fashion.
Ross is a bit taller, and not so strongly
together. His shoulders are not so heavy,
and bis arms and legs look slender in com-
parison, good man though he is. His face
a little pale, too, and rather thin and
drawn, as if training had been to him no
pastime. A bandage round his head and
forehead does not add to his beauty, but a
mighty fine looking lad he really is to one
who can tell a good man when he sees him.
I have never known a ‘‘quitter’’ with a
pair of bine eyes like that, with that broad
forehead and strong jaw. He may be out-
classed, but he will take his beating all
right, and not know it without a long ex-
planation and a diagram.
He plays a bit lower than Marshall, and
more quietly. Sare enough, our friend
was right; the first play is half-back,
through opposing left guard and tackle. As
the ball snaps back, I can see Marshall’s
broad back bend, and his feet bite into the
ground; he springs at Ross so savagely that
be forces him back just enongh to make a
beautiful hole through which the back
plunges for a good five-yard gain,
*‘Did you see that ?’’ asked Know-it-all.
“What did I tell you? He’ll play pussy
with him.
The teams line up again. There is a play
around the left end with no gain. The
centre is bucked for three yards, and then
I know well enough where the next play
will be, for Marshall is using his arms like
a windmill. I think Madge’s lip curls a
little as Marshall swings his open hand
against Ross’ face, with a sound that can
be heard over the whole field, and receives
not the least return.
This is where he makes his little mis-
take, too, and receives his punishment im-
mediately. The fraction of a second nec-
essary for this last blow gives Malcolm his
chance, and, getting well under his oppon-
ent’s hip, he gives him a half toss, and
swings through in time to tackle the big
fall-back, who is coming for the line like
a catapult. Rss comes throngh so quick
aod clean that there is a loss of a couple of
yards, which gives the ball to Princeton.
‘“That’s more like,'’ remarked Furness
so me. ‘That is the way I used to do in
my palmy days.”’
**Oh, dear,” cried Mrs. Furness, ‘fit’s
the most dreadful thing I ever saw; do yon
suppose he is dead, Tom, or has he only
broken something ?’’
Before her fears can be put to rest in any
other way, the candidate for the graveyard,
having got his wind, jumps briskly to his
feet and they are at it once more.
From this to the end of the first half it
is a case of hammer-and-tongs all the way
through, and mighty hard it is to say who
does the best work. Marshall certainly
plays the showier game and has the strong-
er team behind him, but though they make
big gains, they do not find left tackle the
weak place in the line by any manner of
means.
I kept my eyes on Madge pretty well in
every lull of the play, but not a sign conld
I discover of any preference one way or
the other.
When the field clears for the second halt,
and the men line up, we have our particular
knights of the gridiron close to us. I no-
tice that Marshall has the same confident
look on his face, and even has time to
eweep his eyes over the seats and smile up
at Miss Willard just before the play. Ross
appears to realize there is serious business
before him ; if he has any question about
it, his opponens soon puts all doubts to
rests.
In truth, I never saw a more savage at-
tack made within the law. Elbow, arm,
shonlder and hand-—Malcolm gets them all
with considerable diversity, but not much
cessation. He takes what comes, however,
in the same quiet way, and keeps bis eye
on the ball, as from the beginning. Even
Mrs. Furness notices the rough work, and
when Marshall pushes his elbow full in
Malcolm’s face, in a particularly vicious
way, she cries indignantly : “It’s a shame;
he’s a big brute, and I never want to see
him again!” x
Bat Miss Madge defends him with, ‘‘He
is playing within the rules, and if Mal-
colm isn’t able to take care of himself, he'd
better choose tennis or golf.”
“What do you think?” asked Tom.
“It looks as if the boy is tiring.’’
‘‘He comes up a bit slow, I think my-
self,”’ I answered, as I watched him craw!
out of the bottom of the pile. ‘‘He stop-
ped the last revolving wedge, however,
and picked out the runner like an artist.’
‘‘He's playing a deuced fine game,’’ sud-
denly spoke up Know-it-all, very much to
our surpiise.
On the next play, Ross was called on to
ran with she ball for almost the first time.
I
The hacks were not doing much, and a
guard had been tried a few times with no
result.
‘Quick as a flash he leaves his place, but
none too quick, for Marshall is close after
him, the end not blocking off. With the
ball close to his breast, Ross strikes the
line, head low, and tears through the guard
and tackle ; on he pushes, unassisted, the
live balf missing him, and it seeme as 1f
be must have a clear field, barring the full
hack. Suddenly, however, Marshall comes
up behind, having followed through, and,
tackling low, brings his man down as if
shot in his tracks. The tackle is low, and
the hand slides lower, so that it is as nasty
a fall as a man would wish to avoid. Ross
strikes on the side of his face and bead,
lies where he falls for a few seconds, and
then staggers to his feet. He has a deep
gash over his left eye, from which the
blood flows freely, but he has made a good
ten yards, and shere is a smile of satisfac-
tion on his face.
His Captain notices that he staggers to
his place, and with his shoulder under the
boy’s arm whispers something to him. I
know well enough it is, **Cat out,old man;
vou’re done.” Bat Malcolm does not un-
derstand, even if he hears him, and takes
his place in the line as before.
Two downs with no gain, a short punt,
and shen he is on the defensive again.
Yes, I know it, 4-14-11; the play is
against Ross. He knows it himself, too,
and, crouching low, his right hand on the
ground, he waits for it.
Swish goes Marshall’s arm against the
gashed forehead. The blood runs into
Malcolm’s eye, but he brushes it away,and
brings the runner down with a scant yard
gain. Four, fourteen, eleven, came the
signal; again Marshall pushes his elbow
against the same spot, again the revolving
wedge swings round.
Again Ross pluvges through, and the
wedge crumples aod falls on him. The
men crawl to their feet, as there are only a
few wore minutes to play, and they are
all nearly spent; but Malcolm lies still and
makes no effort to stir. There is the usual
call for water, but the boy is done, and
his feet drag after him as he is carefully
carried off to bis side line by the subs.
Mrs. Furness was almost in tears ; Miss
Madge said nothing, although I noticed
she held her breath until Malcolm’s eyes
opened, and be made au effort to get back
into the game. The boy was a bit queer,
and, when he struggled to his feet, it was
all the subs could do to keep him off the
field.
A moment later the game was over.
I saw Marshall look up with a smile and
wave his hand. We were all on our feet,
but Madge did not notice him. She turn-
ed to Mrs. Farness, and, with a fanny lit-
tle catch in her voice, said:
“I want you to ask Malcolm Ross to
dinner today.”’
‘Why, Madge!” exclaimed Mrs. Far-
ness, breathless with surprise. ‘‘how could
we get him at this late hour? He counld
not possibly get ready to come."’
“I want you to ask Malcolm Ross to
dinner,”’ said Madge again, her lips white,
and her eyes dark and liquid. ‘‘You,Tom,
go and say that I sent for him.”
There was no denying this,and Tom was
off like a shot, leaving me to get the ladies
home, which I succeeded in doing after a
good hour, Madge scarcely speaking at all,
and Mrs. Furness almost as quiet.
As I was dressing for dinner, Tom came
to my room and told me had found Ross
in the dressing room at the grounds,
stretched full length on a rubbing couch,
bis face hidden on his arm. He was heart-
broken over the defeat, and blamed him-
self for it all. Brad Marshall was standing
in the doorway, accepting congratulations
in his easy, matter-of-course way.
It was only after Tom bad told Ross that
it was Miss Willard’s own request, that he
prevailed upon him to accept, and even
then the boy could not at all understand
what it really meant.
Whatever his doubts may have been,
they must have been set at rest at the din-
ner table, for when Tom bent bis head
over the festive board to ask a blessing, I
was not too reverent to look to the end of
the table, where I distinctly saw our
“Lady of the Eyes’’ pus her band in Mal-
colm’s, under the table, in a perfectly
shamless fashion.—Saturday Evening Post.
16,000,000 School Pupils.
Washington, D. C.—The report of the
Commissioner of Education for the fiscal
vear ending June 30th, 1904, made public
the other day by the Secretary of the Inter-
ior, shows that 16,009,361 pupils, or twen-
ty per cent of the entire population of the
country, attended the public schools dur-
ing that year. :
As compared with the previous six years
this shows a slight decrease in percentage.
The total cost of the public school system
is given as $251,457.625. This is an in-
crease of $16,000,000 over the previous
year. It amounts to $325 per capita of
the total population and $22.75 per capita
per pupil. :
Since 1870 the proportion of men teach-
ers has decreased from thirty-nine per cent.
of the entire number to twenty-six per
cent. last year. The average compensation
for men teachers last year was $49.98 and
that for women $40.51.
By the addition of pupils in elementary
schools, academies, institutions for higher
education,evening schools, business schools,
private kindergartens, Indian schools, State
schools and schools for defectives and
orphans the grand total of 18,187,918 pupils
is reached.
Sing While at Work,
‘“They say the man whose soul wakes
not to music is dead indeed,’”’ said the
man on the lookout for odd things, ‘‘and
the average working negro. in this great
southland of ours seems to be a pretty fair
example of those who have ‘waked’ if his
fondness for venting his feelings in music
is to be taken as a criterion. Did you
ever see a gang of street laborers at work
that some one or more of them were not
calling out to an original theme a story
anent the things good toa darky’s eyes?
They seem to fit the very measure of mo-
tion, whether it be the swing of a hammer
or pick or the heaving of some weighty
object. Isaw a gang at their labor the
other day, and the ditty they enunciated
held me interested until I had learned the
the very rhythm, if not the dialect, myself.
These two fellows told their trouble and
desire along this line:
‘ ‘Say, old man, auogh!’ (with a swing
of the pick).
‘“ ‘Have yer got a good dog?’
‘‘ ‘Can he catch any coon?’
‘¢ ‘Just take him and try him.’
‘‘Repeating the grunt with every stroke.
To the white man this might look like
wasting energy, but somehow the negro
seems to do more and do it better with a
Some Old Occupations.
The sailor walked to the door and threw
away the cigarctée he had been smok-
ing.
Iastantly a lad picked up the cigarette,
put it in a canvas bag that hung at his side
and hurried toward a man who had just
finished his cigar. 8
“It’s a queer trade, that boy's,’ said
the sailor. *‘T wonder if be makes much
money.’
‘‘He ean’t’’ said the drogeist.
‘‘His trade is queer,”’ continued the
sailor, ‘‘but I’ve seen queerer trades. I
used to know in Eastern Asia a tooth
stainer. In that country black teeth are
preferred to the white sort. The people
give as much time to darkening their teeth
over there as we give to whitening ours
here. If the Eastern Asians wore false
teeth, they’d wear black, not white ones.
‘This tooth stainer goes among the peo-
ple with his little chess of brushes and pig-
ments like a doctor. He has a regular set
of patrons, and he visits them once a week.
It takes him about twelve minutes to give
a set of teeth the brilliant black appear-
ance of a patent leather boot. The pig-
ment, or polish, that he uses is tasteless
and harmless—a vegetable componnd.
‘In Arabia there are people who ply a
trade called gossiping. These people
gather together all the latest news and all
the best jokes and stories, and go from
house to house, spinning the yarns they
have gathered at so much per hour, Gos-
sips they are called, and they make good
money.
‘“The snake charmers of India go about
with amulets supposed to be magic-
al. They make more money through the
sale of these amulets than through straight,
legitimate snake charming.
‘In Africa the trade of the witch is
popular, and profitable. A witch, for a’
emall sum, sends bad luck to your enemies
and good luck to your friends.”’
Turkeys Scarce and High,
There is again a scarcity of turkeys
throughout the land, and lovers of high-
priced prosperity will certainly be happy
when they start in to buy their Thanks-
giving day dinner. It is admitted that
not for ten years has there been such a
scarcity of gobblers, and prices may be
even higher than last year, when they
ranged from 28 to 30 cents a pound.
Sickness agnong the fowls aud the efforts
of the big factors to corner tlie supply are
blamed for present conditions. One Dock
street merchant said yesterday : ‘‘Our
agents have been scouring the country to
secure an adequate supply, but they are
unable to get more than three carloads
altogether. For every barrel of turkeys
we get 600 barrels of chickens are obtain-
able. Unless something unforseen hap-
pens this state of affairs will continue until
after Christmas.”
Philadelphia’s supply is drawn mainly
from Delaware. A few turkeys are brought
from the West, but they are mostly of the
scrawny sort. Chickens, while plentiful
are also dear, near-by fancy stock retailing
at from 25 to 28 cents, while the Western
fowls may be had at from 15 to i8 cents
per pound. On many tables will be found
the duck, which may be hought for from
20 to 25 cents for those from Delaware,
New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and from
15 to 18 cents for the Western waddlers.
Some people will invest in partridges, which
cost §3 a pair, or about $1 a pound, while
others will substitute for their turkey quail
at 85 cents a dozen. All other varieties of
game are correspondingly dear, the prices
ranging from 15 to 20 per cent. higher than
last year. This increase is due to the rigid
enforcement of the stringent game laws
whioh have heen passed in many States.
The Curfew Bell.
The story of the curfew was hut the un-
supported assertion of one historian of the
sixteenth century, which was repeated in
prose and poetry till it was woven into the
language. Like many other legends, there
is just a grain of truth in it, but its sug-
gested origin is false, the derivation of
carfew is erroneous, and the scuttle shaped
instruments which supported the theory
were quite different articles of household
nse.
Probably the word is derived not from
couvre feu, cover fire, but from gcarrefour,
in old French spelling carfou, from the
Latin for crossroads, and is the name of
the morning and evening bell, which orig-
inally sounded from the crossroads or
market places both in France and England
simply to give the time of day. It was
and is rung at 4 or 6 o’clock in the morn-
ing and at 8 o’clock in the evening. One
inscription on an old bell runs thus :
I am called ye Curfue bell,
I ringen at VIII or more,
To send ye alle to bedde,
And wake ye up at IV.
— Pearson’s Weekly.
Where the Bad Eggs Go.
A poultry farm, whether ducks, geese,
chickens or turkeys be the specialty, ac-
camulates a large and malodorous surplus
of eggs that refuse to develop into fowl.
The average person would suppose that if
there is anything on earth that is utterly
worthless it is a rotten egg. Millions of
stale eggs are used every year in preparing
leather dressing for gloves and bookbinding
—an industry that is largely carried on in
the foreign tenement houses of New York
and other large cities. They are also used
in manufacturing disinfectants and in the
preparation of shoe blacking, and even the
shells are made into fertilizers. The eggs
that bave not yet lost their virtue also
have other uses besides the more common
ones for culinary purposes. It is estimated
that fully 55,000,000 dozen are used by
wine clarifiers, dye manufacturers and in
the preparations of photographers’ dry
plates.— Brooklyn Eagle.
Hurry In Kating.
An anthority on the subject offers the
following suggestions : The opinion that
hurry in eating is a prolific canse of
dyspepsia is founded on common observa-
sion. The ills resulting from bolting food
have heen attributed to the lack of thorough
mastication and to the incomplete action
of the saliva upon the food. Two-thirds
of the food which we eat is starch, and
starch cannot be utilized in the system as
food, until it has been converted into
sugar, and this change is principally ef-
fected by the saliva. But there is a third
reason why rapidity of eating interferes
with digestion. The presence of the
salivary seoretion in the stomach acts as a
stimulus to the secretion of the gastric juice.
Irrespective of the mechanical function of
the teeth, food which goes into the stomach
incompletely mingled with saliva passes
slowly and imperfectly through the process
of stomach digestion, Therefore, as a
sanitary maxim of no mean value; teach
the children to eat slowly and in giving
instruction, by example, the teacher, as
TRIAL LisT.—The trial list for the
November term of court isas follows:
FIRST WEEK.
Executors of J. D. Shugert vs Louis
Rosenthal.
J. H. Lingle vs Louis Rosenthal,
J. H. Weber vs Geo. Gentzel.
Harrisburg Grocery Produce Co. vs C.
P. Long.
Wm. G. Frantz vs Rush Twp.
Dr. J. L. Siebert vs Wm. Bartley.
City Mut. Fire Ins. Co. vs Mrs. Cath-
arine Symmonds.
H. B. Wright vs Joseph Diel.
Quaker City Mut. Fire Ins. Co. vs Mrs.
Ada Flick.
Same ve B. F. Morgan.
Same vs J. W. Mitterling.
Same vs W. C. Andrews.
Same vs S. M. Bell.
Same vs Gustave Lyon.
Same vs Sarah Homan.
Same vs Robert Cooke, Jr.
Same ve Harriet Wantz.
Same vs Wm. Steele.
Same vs Graffius Weston.
Same ve Mis. Louisa Bash.
Same vs Lewis C. Brown.
Same vs Warren S. Ward.
Same ve Jackson Kline.
Same vs Wm. R. Bartlet.
Thomas E. Pickets & Son vs T. M.
Meyers.
Montgomery & Co vs M. W. Cowdrick.
Joseph Bros. & Co. vs M. W. Cowdrick.
Hosterman & Stover vs Jon. Harter.
SECOND WEEK.
W. H. Pifer vs Champion Drill Co.
Amanda C. Musser vs W. A. Pifer.
Martin Daley vs German American Ins.
Co.
Curtin heirs vs E. M. Huyett, A. R.
MeNitt and D. S. MeNitt.
Frank Parker vs P. R. R. Co.
B. F. Harris vs Huston Tw p-
Davidson vs Orvis Peters.
Wm. D. Rider vs Bellefonte Window
Glass Co.
Charles Guisewhite vs same.
Adms. of Oscar W, Hunter vs same.
Has 24 Fingers and Toes,
A colored girl baby was born at the
Maryland General hospital last Saturday
night which has six fingers on each hand
and six toes on each foot. The mother of
the infant is Agnes Garner. The fact that
the child has 12 fingers and 12 toes is es-
pecially remarkable, because there is no
malformation on either hand or foot. The
fingers and toes are so symmetrical and
perfectly formed that one would not notice
the oddity at first glance. The two mid-
dle fingers and toes are, respectively, uni-
form in length, and this makes the pe-
culiarity all the more deceptive. Mon-
day the X-ray was applied to the hands
and feet, and it was found that the bones
were perfeotly formed and well developed.
The hands and fees are larger than in new-
ly-born children, but they do not appear
80 on account of the remarkable proportion
between all the fingers and toes. Usnally
when a child is born with extra digits the
odd ones are removed. In this case if the
sixth finger or toe were removed the re-
sult would be a lesion and not a benefit to
the symmetry of the hand or foot.
————————————————
An Irtshman’s Suicide.
‘Do you know of the only Irishman who
ever committed suicide?’ asked W. B.
Pollard, of Jersey City, who was at the
Fifth avenue hotel last night, says the
Louisville Courier-Journal. “You know it
is said that Trishmen never commis suicide,
and when the argument was advanced in
a crowd of that nationality he was so un-
strung that he decided to show his op:
ponents that Irishmen do sometimes com-
mit a rash act. He accordingly disappear-
ed, and the man who employed him start-
ed a search. When he got to the barn he
looked up toward the rafters and saw his
man banging with a rope around his waist.
** ‘What are youn up to, Pat?’ he asked.
‘‘‘Oi’'m banging meself, begobs,’ the
Irishman replied.
‘* ‘Why don’t you put it around your
neck ?’
‘‘ ‘Faith,Oi did, but Oi conldn’t braythe,’
was the upsmiling 1eply of the man
from the Emerald Isle.”
—————————————.
Japanese Close Fortress Attack.
Assault on Port Arthur Discontinued, the Besiegers
Being Barely Able to Hold Points Gained.
——
LoxDoN, Nov. 9,—The Chefoo corres-
poodeunt of the “Daily Mail’’ says that the
assault on Port Arthur bas been discon-
tinued. The Japauese have heen only
partly able to hold the captured guns and
forts owing to the Russian crossfire.
RUSSIANS REINFORCED.
—LoNDON, Nov. 9.—A Shanghai dis-
teh to the ‘‘Morning Post’ says tbat the
ussians on the Sha River have been rein-
forced and now number 300,000, with 1,200
guns. :
RUSSIA TAKES THE FULTON.
PARis, Nov. 9.—A dispatch from St.
Petersburg to the ‘Petit Parisien’ states
that the trials of the American submarine
boat Fulton, at Cronstadt, have givin
complete satisfaction to the Russian
Admiralty and that she has been forward-
ed to Vladivostok.
To Remounce Citizenship.
German, Once Naturalized, Wishes
Subject ot Wurtemberg's King.
to Become
WILKESBARRE, Nov. 12.—Secretary of
State Hay has requested Prothonotary
Templeton to fornish data concerning the
naturalization of Emile Herza, a German,
in this city in 1892, in ‘order that the
State Department may pass upon his ap-
plication for permission to renounce his
American citizenship and again become a
subject of the King of Wurtemberg.
Herza was for many years a resident of
this country, then he returned to Germany,
and is now a prosperous merchant there,
and desires to spend the rest of his days in
Waurtemberg. There is much red tape
about the rechanging of citizenship; the
papers already contain the signature of an
official of Wurtemberg court, the German
Ambassador, Jobn Hay and Governor
Pennypacker, and Prothonotary Temple-
ton is to attach his affidavit tomorrow.
musical incentive.”’
well as the pupil, may receive benefit.
——Subserihe for the WATCHMAN.