Bellefonte, Pa., August 17, 1908.
—— EE —
COMPARISONS.
As Soon as We Begin to Make Them
We Begin to Suffer.
We would not have to strive so for
courage If what we vaguely call
“things” were more evenly distributed
among us, for no one’s lot would then
seem to him an evil one. If we were
all humpbacked or lame or blind;
if every husband were unfaithful and
every child a cross; if we were all poor
and no man had any more than anoth-
er; If nobody's son died In his early
strength and nobody was loved while
we sat neglected, then who of us
would know what sorrows and afflic-
tions were? We would take each of
them for granted, as a Chinaman takes
his yellow skin and an Indian his red
one.
It is because we see our estate differ-
ing from that of our fellows that we
are tempted to comparisons, and it is
in the making of these comparisons
that a sense of our sorrows, like the
knowledge of our afflictions, is first
born. How would we have known that
we were poor unless we had seen some
one else who was richer or that our
son was unsuccessful unless the son of
somebody else were making a great
mark in the world? Would our little
children be unhappy with only one
dress had they not seen other chil-
dren with two?
It comes to this, then: When we be-
gin to make comparisons, we begin to
suffer. This may seem to be a hard
saying, but it is a true one.—Lillie
Hamilton French in Harper's Bazar.
ROMAN ROSES.
They Are Beautiful and Abundant
Because They Eat Meat.
“I have yet to see a rose equal to
those grown in Rome,” said the ama-
teur horticulturist. “They bloom in
the greatest abundance all through the
winter, and they are as large and rich
and velvety as American Beauties, liv-
ing out of doors, climbing like ivy or
honeysuckle over the crumbling marble
walls of ruined temples, gleaming in
crimson and green masses upon Aan-
clent columns, giving to the grimmest
and saddest of mediaeval palazzos an
air of gayety and youth.
“One day on the Via Sistina, as 1
passed the garden that had once been
the garden of Lucullus, I saw an old
man tending the superb roots that grow
there. He was pouring on their roots
a dark, rich looking fluid.
“ ‘Why are the Roman roses so beau.
tiful and abundant? I said to the old
man.
“ ‘Because they eat meat’ he an-
swered.
“ ‘Eat meat? Nonsense,” said I.
“ ‘Well, they drink meat—meat ex-
tract, which is the same thing,’ sald the
old man. ‘We Roman gardeners have
for centuries watered our. roses thrice
a week with a strong decoction of fresh
beef—a rich grade of beef tea. They
are meat eaters. That is why the roses
of Rome are as hardy and prolific as
weeds and at the same time as richly,
delicately beautiful and as sweetly per-
fumed as flowers grown under glass.’ ”
~Chicago Chronicle.
Called Back.
A commercial traveler for a London
firm secured an order for £1,000 in the
west of England and, as it was not
duly acknowledged, wrote a letter to
the firm calling special attention to it
and saying, “I thought you would con-
sider such an order quite a feather in
my cap.”
In reply he received this note from
his principal: “We have filed your or-
der and Inclose for your cap the one
feather you require.”
After a fortnight came another let-
ter from the firm: “The people who
gave you the £1,000 order have failed,
and we lose the goods. We have this
day sent to you a bagful of feathers
for you to fly home with, as we do
not want you out on the road for us
any more.” —S8frand Ma azine.
a —————————————— |
‘Food Value of Cheese.
uv
«i It fs said that one pound of cheese
is equal in food value to more than two
* pounds of meat. It is very rich in pro-
teids and fat. Considering this, it is
low in price when compared with meat
and ought to do good serviee to the
poor man in replacing occasionally the
regular diet of meat. In America cheese
is looked upon more as a side dish and
luxury than in some parts of Europe.
The Swiss peasant depends on it as a
staple second only to bread, while the
use of it in England and Germany is
Sxtensive.
*
YS relay Fatal
Visitor (to widow)—I am so sorry to
hear of the sudden death of your hus-
band. Did they hold a postmortem ex-
amination?
“Yes, and, like those doctors, they
did not hold it until he was dead, or
they might have saved his life.”—Clin-
ical Reporter.
What Xt Cost Him,
Mrs. Watte—There! We have cleared
off the last of that church debt, dnd
it never cost you men a cent. See what
women can do. Mr. Watts—I don't
know about the other fellows, but I
know you have made me spend more
than $100 for extra meals downtown
while you were out monkeying around.
The First Sight,
Ethel—I understand it was a case of
. Jove at first sight between Jack and
Mise Oldgirl,. Maud—Yes, dear. But
the first sight was at her bank book.
Wonder is the first cause of philoso-
phy.—Aristotle.
ee —
& EL >
TERREMOTO
By HONORE WILLSIE
Copyright, 1906, by P. C. Eastment
For three months now Eleanor had
been on the desert edge fighting for her
brother's health. At first the desper-
ation of the struggle bad kept her
thoughts from straying eastward; bad
crammed with anxiety each moment
that otherwise would have been wretch-
ed with homesickness,
But now, with the leisure that came
with Jack's returning health, homesick-
ness was beginning its inroads upon
her. This made doubly hard to bear
the fact that Jack was developing the
fractiousness of the convalescent and
that an ordinary pacific disposition was
becoming so irritable that it taxed even
the devotion of this most devoted sis-
ter. On this particular afternoon he
bad expressed an inordinate desire for
a certain brand of cigars.
“But, Jack dear,” objected Eleanor,
“the doctor says that you must not
smoke.”
“Who says 1 want to smoke?” growl
ed Jack. “I just want to look at them
and sniff of them and feel them. And
I want them today.”
Eleanor sighed patiently. “It's five
miles to town, Jacky. And though it's
4 o'clock, it's frightfully hot, Don’t you
want to wait until tomorrow?”
“Oh, of course, if you don't want to
do the favor for me,” replied the in-
valid, walking feebly across the tent to
pick up a fan,
“Why, certainly I'm going, Jacky,"
she eried. “The heat won't last much
longer,” and she disappeared toward
her own tent, leaving her brother look:
ing a bit sheepish.
So now Eleanor was riding slowly
along the blistering trail toward the
sleepy little adobe village which boast-
ed a single Yankee store, at which she
thought she could get the cigars. She
was a beautiful girl, slender of body
and lovely of face, with the refinement
of good blood through many genera-
tions showing in every lineament. Her
dark blue eyes, shadowed by the heavy
lashes, looked tired, and her figure
drooped a little as If In utter weari-
ness.
“It's getting pretty hard,” she
thought. “It's spring up there, with
the snow melting into little rivulets,
and the pussy willows out, and the
wind flowers coming. Only the thought
of Jack's getting well keeps me from
going mad.”
She started a little as a cheery hal
loo greeted her, and she saw riding
down the trail toward her a broad
shouldered, jolly chap in cowboy at.
tire. He wheeled his mustang and
rode beside her.
“I was taking a jaunt out to tell you
that I have almost finished my work
and must fly eastward again.”
“Oh, that is too bad!” cried Eleanor.
The man’s fine brown eyes beamed.
“I've only known you a week,” he an-
swered, “but it's been a mighty pleas-
ant week."
“Jack will miss you,” said the girl.
The man eyed her silently. “She's
wearing herself out,” he thought. “I
wish I could take her away from
here. Burwell's nearly strong enough
to go it alone now. Gads! She's a
beauty!"
Eleanor wiped the alkali dust from
her face and told him the reason for
her trip to town.
“Rather hard on you," commented
Hartley.
Eleanor smiled, but sald nothing,
and they rode for some distance in si-
lence, Hartley's gaze scarcely leaving
for an Instant the drooping profile be-
side him.
“I wonder,” he thought, “if she real
izes that she’s never told me a word
of herself, who she is or—by the Lord
Harry, if she'd have me I'd marry her
tomorrow even if they both came from
a foundling asylum.”
By this time they were riding up the
street of the dirty little Mexican village,
whose inhabitants were too absorbed in
the sight of the Americanos to move
from beneath the horses’ feet until
urged to do so by Hartley in a patois
that made up in vigor what it lacked
in lucidity.
The Yankee store was the only frame
building for miles around. It was
owned by an enterprising Vermonter,
who was making a small fortune in the
lazy little town, where money went
faster than it came,
Hartley tied the horses and they en-
tered the store. Just as they stepped
within the door it slammed shut vio-
lently behind them and the tremor of
its impact shook the entire building.
The storekeeper, the only other person
in the dusky room, looked up in sur-
prise that quickly changed to alarm.
The tremor Instead of ceasing In
creased.
“What's the matter?” he cried, run-
ning to the front of the store.
“1 don't know,” replied Hartley. “It
I were up north I'd think it was a
dynamite blast, but”—
Here the crockery in the window clat-
tered and a roll of turkey red fell to
the floor.
“It's an earthquake!” cried the Ver-
monter. “Come on, get out of here
quick,” and he made a dash for the
knob. But the door was fast and im-
mediately the floor was rocking so vio-
lently that the whole room seemed filled
with flying articles from the store
shelves. Hartley suddenly pulled
Eleanor toward him, as if trying to
shield her with his body. Then a great
rumble, with continuous shocks like ex-
plosions, a fearful crash and darkness!
It had all happened In so short a
space of time that Eleanor had scarce
Iy realized that she was actually en-
countering an earthquake. She had
peen thrown violently to the ground,
1s the final shock came, and now she
felt out in the darkness and encoun-
tered Hartley's quiet form. Almost
hysterical with fright, she called to
him and chafed his bands feverishly.
Then came the voice of the store-
keeper:
“Hello, you two in there!”
“Yes,” called Eleanor weakly. “I'm
all right, but Mr. Hartley seems badly
burt.”
“The whole dinged front of the store
aas fallen in” called the Vermonter,
“but 1 got out through a hole. Can
you stay still till I get help?’
“Yes,” answered Eleanor, and again
she fell to chafing Hartley's hands.
It was a long and arduous task to
remove the debris without injury to
the prisoners beneath. The work was
doubly long, owing to the fact that
what few natives had not fled to the
desert were hovering over their ruined
adobes with walls of “El terremoto!
El terremoto!” so that the storekeeper
did most of the work himself.
Long before their rescue Hartley bad
recovered his senses and by combin-
ing their two handkerchiefs Eleanor
had bound the wound in his head that
seemed to be his only injury. It was
twilight when they reached the street,
a quiet, southern twilight, with just
the edge of a great full moon coming
up over the edge of the desert.
As soon as it was possible Eleanor
with Fartley on guard set out for
camp. She was greatly disturbed over
her brother, though the natives assured
her that the shock was not serious
where there were no buildings.
Hartley, looking like a picturesque
bandit with his bandaged forehead,
was In great spirits despite his aching
head. He said little until they were
well out on the trail. Then he rode
close up to Eleanor’'s pony.
“Miss Burwell,” he said, “an acci-
dent like this makes us friends of about
ten years’ standing, doesn't it?”
“It surely does,” cried Eleanor.
“Then,” he went on eagerly, “don’t
you think that two such old friends
could safely care for each other and—
and perhaps marry each other?’
Eleanor did not seem so much aston-
ished as the short acquaintanceship
might warrant. But she blushed deeply
in the moonlight.
“But you don't know me and I don’t
know you,” she said.
“Well, I'm an architect,” he an-
swered, “and I live in Chicago and"—
“Not the ‘John Hartley, architect,
that all the world knows!” cried Elea-
nor.
“I'm afraid so,” he replied, a little
sheepishly.
Eleanor gasped. “My little name
sinks into insignificance,” she said.
Hartley looked at her suspiciously.
“You aren't E. Burwell, the illustra
tor!” he exclaimed. .
“I'm afraid so,” she mocked.
Hartley stopped the ponies and drew
her close in his arms. “Whatever the
names,” he whispered, “we belong
to one another, anyhow.”
A Bible Courtship.
A young gentleman at church con-
ceived a most sudden and violent pas-
sion for a young lady in the next pew
and felt desirous of entering into a
courtship on the spot, but, the place
not suiting a formal declaration, the
exigency suggested the following plan:
He politely handed his fair neighbor a
Bible, open, with a pin stuck in the fol-
lowing text, second epistle of John,
verse §: “And now I ‘beseech thee,
lady, not as though I wrote a new com-
mandment unto thee, but that which
we had from the beginning, that we
love one another.” She returned it
with the following, second chapter of
Ruth, verse 10: “Then she fell on her
face and bowed herself to the ground
and said unto him, Why have I found
grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldst
take notice of me, seeing I am a stran-
ger?" He returned the book, pointing
to verse 12 of the third epistle of John,
“Having many things to write unto
you, I would not write with paper and
ink, but I trust to come unto you and
speak face to face.” From the above
interview the marriage took place the
following week.—Scottish American.
The Geese Won.
An English gentleman once laid a
wager with George IV. that geese
would beat turkeys in a race. The
king, thinking that such a wager was
already as good as won, willingly
made the bet, and the gentleman was
left to choose time and place and dis.
tance. Being well acquainted with the
habits of the birds he accordingly chose
for the time the evening, just before
sunset, and for the place the road out:
side the city walls and a mile for the
distance. The time came and each ap-
peared with his flock of birds and the
race began. Lomg ere the end came the
sunset and immediately, true to their
instinets, as soon as the sun had quite
disappeared all the turkeys flew up
into the nearest tree to roost, and no
persuasion could induce them to budge
an inch farther, and the geese, which
had been slowly toddling on behind,
quietly cackled in—the winners,
Moving the Well,
A New England woman once had in
her employ a rosy cheeked Irish maid
of all work, whose blunders afforded
them amusement to compensate for
any trouble she might entail. One day
the owner of the place stated in the
girl's hearing that he intended to have
a wood house built on a piece of
ground which at that time inclosed a
well
“Shure, sor,” sald the inquiring Mar-
garet, “will you be movin’ the well to
a more corvenlent spot whin the wood
house is builded?”
As a smile crossed the face of her
employer Margaret at once perceived
she had made a mistake of some sort.
“It's a fool I am, shure,” she added
hastily, bound to retrieve herself. “Of
coorse whin the well was moved ivery
drop of wather would run out of it!”
—— ——— LEI .
STOCK CLEANING
We are now offering the bal-
ance of our SUMMER FOOT.
WEAR at bargain prices.
This offer includes everything
that remains in Women’s, Miss-
es and Children’s White Can-
vas and Kid, Black and Pat-
ent Leather and Tan Low Cuts.
Also our Men’s, Boys and
Youth’s Oxfords of all kinds,
and a splendid line of Men's
Tan Blucher $3.00 Shoes at
81.98 We still have a few
Boys’ and Youths’ Tan Shoes
at a very low price. We can
please you now but come early
for the supply is limited.
LL ——— | ——— So ——
YEAGER & DAVIS
OPEN EVEI'INGS.
HIGH STREET, BELLEFONTE.
TOOTHPICKS.
A Visit to London and a Little Les-
son In Etiquette,
“I ran over for a short visit to Lon:
don,” sald a globe trotter. “On the
boat was a pretty widow from Altona
who disgusted and amused all hands
one day by saying:
“I am surprised that a fast and ex:
pensive boat like this should fail to
supply us with toothpicks.’
“She thought toothpicks indispensa-
ble, like napkins or forks. For 1k
ing so we set her down as a hecker.
But wait.
“I dined during my visit in London
at Prince's, in Piccadilly, and at the
Savoy, in the room that overlooks the
embankment and the river, and at the
Carlton, where I paid a dollar for a
plate of soup, and at all these restau
rants, which are admittedly the finest
and the smartest and the most fashion-,
able in the world. At all of them there
were toothpicks on the table, each
toothpick done up in a sterilized en-
velope.
“This taught me a lesson. It taught
me that it is narrow and provincial to
despise people for their disregard of
certain small rules of etiquette. The
things we despise them for, which may
be glaring errors in Seattle or New
York, may be again, as like as not, the
correct thing in Paris and London.”—
New York Press.
A TIN RR
> Biedical.
Poor HUMORS
Commonly cause pimples, boils, hives,
eczema, or salt rheum, or some other form
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debility, without causing any breaking
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Hood's Sarsaparilla expels them, renc-
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system. This is the testimony of thous-
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Accept no substitute, but insist on hav.
ing
HOOD'S SARSAPARILLA.
In usual liquid form or in chocolated
tablets known as SARSATABS. 100 doses
$1. 51-28
!
Excited No Comment,
Tess—0f course, I knew that May
and Bess were bitter enemies, but do
you mean to tell me they actually en-
gaged in a fist fight? Jess—Yes., Tess
—Why, what a scandal! I declare I—
Jess—Oh, nobody noticed it. They
went to a bargain store to do it.—
Philadelphia Press.
The Opinion She Sought.
“Well, what do you think of my new
hat?” she asked.
“Do you want a candid opinion?” he
questioned.
“Heavens, no!” she replied. “Say
something nice.”—New York Press.
And Insight.
“What happens when people fall in
love at first sight?’
“Usually marriage and second sight.”
—Springfield (I1L) Journal
JKPWaRD K. RHOADS
Shipping and Commission Merchant,
DEALER [No
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