aia co ER —— Bellefonte, Pa., February 22, 1907. JACK FROST. The frost looked forth on a still, clear night, And whispered, “Now, I shall be out of sight ; So, through the valley and over the height In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering train, The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, That make such a bustle and noise in vain, Bat I'll be as busy as they I" 80 he flew to the mountain and powdered its crest, He lit on the trees and their boughs he dressed With diamonds and pearls ; and over the breast Of the quivering ianke he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The glittering point of many a spear Which he hung on its margin, far sad near, Where a rock could rear its head, He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane like a fairy crept; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, By the light of the morn were seen Most beautiful things! There were flowers and trees, There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees; There were cities and temples and towers, and these All pictured in silvery sheen! But he did one thing that was hardly fair, He peeped in the cupboard and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare ; “Now, just to sel them a-thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he, ““This costly pitcher I'll burst in three! And the glass of water they've left for me, Shall "tehick’ to tell them I'm drinking.” — Hannah Gould, THE BACKSLIDIN' OF MARTHA CROCKER. “Well, Martha Crocker, all I can say is, you're a fool, a perfect fool. When my brother Ezra died a month ago and left you every bit of his money I didn’t begrudge you a cent of it. Ezra never gave you much to spend —I always knew that—and I says: ‘I'm glad Martha has it, to get some good of it before she dies. She ain’t never bad any fun, aud I’m glad.’ But now— well, I wouldn't ’a’ thought you'd be so foolish.” Mrs. Dole rocked ropidly to and fro in the slippery baircloth rocking-chair, and, as her excitement increased, the vehemence of her motion so kept pace with is that she was in constaut peril of precipitating herself into the arms of her sister-in-law setting opposite. Nothing but an involun- tary backward jerk, each time she caught her breath, kept her in ber seat, “I've heard all yon say, Mary,”’ answer- ed Martha Crocker patiently, “and I ain't mad a mite; but I’ve made up my mind to bave em, and I'm goin’ to have em!" Mary Dole rose, completely vexed. Some are born who through life exact compliance from others; such was Mary. Others are born who as unfailingly comply, and such was Martha. She had never, in all the history of her seventy-one years, “riz up,” and her revolt was both a shock aud a humiliation to Mary Dole. As she swept disapprovingly out of the gate she encoun- tered the tall, awkward forw of the minis- ter just entering. “Oh, Mr. Perkine,’’ buret ont Mrs. Dole, “I've just left Martha, and I do hope, if on can do anything with her, you'll ges I out of this backslidin’.” “I'll see what I can do,” said Mr. Perkins, with assurance. Mr. Perkins was an earnest and faithfal laborer in the vineyard. His parish was scattered and wuch of his work was dis. couraging; the one prop which upheld him in bis loug pastorate at Wilson's Crossing was the fact that bis flock believed utterly in his infallibility. They were a deeply religious people, and not one of bis congre- gation ever questioned his ‘soundness’ or his doctrines, When he preached on “The Last Jedg- ment’’ his description was so graphic that it seemed as if he must have witnessed the scenes of which he spoke, and Predestina- tion and Everlasting Punishment were settled so finally and to such universal satisfaction that his parishioners would as soon have dishelieved in the rising of the sun as to have doubted them. His religion being a reality and linked with a vivid imagivation, there was nothing in the Bible for which he failed to bave a lucid and exbaustive description. He counld portray the face form, disposition, thought and feeling of any character demanded, and was never at a loss for explicit solutions of the most puzzling questions. Wilson's Crossing paid him to expound the Good Book from cover to cover, and, like young Lochinvar, ‘“He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone.” With absolate concreteness he brought everything down to the unimaginative New Eoglaud comprehension, and bis con- gregation accepted every word he said and were completely at rest with regard to the gospel which they received in return for their money. Martba Crocker saw him coming and vpeasd the door, saying, with the shadow of a #mile and a courage born of her recent uprising against Mary Dole, “I suppose the parish sent you to labor with me Mr. Perkine, but I warn you it won't do any good.” M:. Perkins seated himself in the hair- cloth rocking-chair just vacated by the irate Mary Dole. “Well, Mrs. Crocker,” he began, clear- ing his throat, “Idid come to talk a little seriously with you about what they ea you are going to do with your money. Ye it true about the—the stairs?”’ He hesitat- ed before the enormity of the sin of extrav- agance proposed. Not so Martha Crocker. ‘Yes, Mr. Perkins,” she returned, with- out flinching, ‘it is true.” The thin figure straightened itscl! for the coming fray and sat a rigid statue, defiance flashing from the mild hiue eyes. ‘Yon know, parson,’ she went ou,hard- ly waiting for breath, ‘‘what my life bere bas been. Yon know how I married Ezra Crocker over fifty years ago, and come here a girl of eighteen to live in this town. You know how he succeeded in his farming, and of the money his uncle left him. You know he got rich, and you know, too, that he wouldn’t spend a cent of his money if be could help it. You know how we wor- ried and pinched on his little bit of a farm to ‘save.’ We didn’t have one thing we didn’t have to—we saved and saved, until I hae the Nery sound of tue oe. never my way io an i never had one thing I wanted, never knew what it was to have one penny with- out fighting for it. I did so wansa flower garden, but Ezra said the seed would cost, Perkins started to interrupt ber, hLut she gathered her forces in a flash and began again. She bad much to say, this meek listle w. man. All she pent-up wrongs and silenced opinions of years gashed forth. “Once,” pursued Martha Crocker, *‘I went to Boston to visit my sister Fannie. Ezra didn’t want me to go, bat I just bad to. I'd bave died to stay here forever with no break in the drudgery of all these years. Fauunie is married toa rich man, and her house in the city is just grand. That's where [ saw the stairs. My, but wasn’t they splendid! All oak, and carved and polished «0 you could see your face in "em anywhere! They were the one thing in the house | wanted, and I told Fannie then that if I ever conld get the money together I'd have some just like 'em; and that's what I mean to do now!” Martha Crocker fairly glowed in her en- thusiasm. *“*A grand staircase,” she went on, “such as you read about in books— big posts with beads and flowers carved on 'em—'" She stopped at last and sank hack in her chair. She bad never enjoyed such freedom of speech in ber life, and the un- usual exertion left her quite exbausted. Mr. Perkins seized the opportanity pre- sented by the widow's temporary helpless- ness and dashed rapidly into his argument. Much as he disliked to lay aside his pro- found and weighty manner, he beheld in this a case of necessity and recognized that it was no time for onlled phrases or forensic grandeur. He was grappling with worldli- ness in a most unexpected quarter, and he saw at once that it was not to be so easily won a battle as he had expected. At snch atime even theological dignity was nota thing to be considered. “But think of the good you might do with the money; think, Mrs. Crocker, of the missionaries working, amid great pri vations, in the foreign fields; think of the strugeling churobes, the needy every where!’”’ He gathered courage aud fell into bis pompous Sabbath manner: “The land is fall of! want—want comfronts us on every hand —"’ *‘I've thought of it,’’ said Martha Crock: er grimly, cutting him ofl at the introduc- tion of what promised to be a lengthy dis- course, ‘yes, I've thought of it all,” she repeated, ‘‘but I'm goin’ to have ’em just the same.” * In vain did the Rev. William Archibald Perkins struggle to remind ber of her Christian duty and the sin of setting the heart on the things of this world. The little woman was as tirm as the everlasting hills. At dusk he took up his hat and de- parted in the bitterness of actual of defeat, leaving the widow to her “lolly,” as he expressed it. In truth Martha Crocker’s ‘folly’? roused the whole diminutive New Hampshire vil- lage. She was discussed at the weekly prayer-meetings, after church on Sanday, at the sewing-circle and at singing-school. It Mrs. Gray ran over to Mrs. Brewster's house for a *‘drawin’ o’ tea’’ the ensuing chat was sare to end with, ‘‘And what do you think of Martha Crocker’s goin’s- on?" She was a never-ending source of gpecu- lation at the one store in town where the *‘men folks’ gathered once a day to see the mail come in. Silas Bridge ‘‘reckoned” the stairs would cost a ‘‘sight o’ money,” and wondered if Martha would have any left to live oun. Lem Harding observed, between puffs at his pipe, that he'd like to kvoow where Martha was ‘‘eal’atin’ ’’ to put her parlor, kitchen and two hedrooms when she got in those stairs. All the far- mers dwelt graphically avd with many ap- preciative and gleefull chuckles on Ezra’s state of mind if he could know what was going on. Meanwhile loads of oak arrived from the city. Men and tools followed, and soon the wonder began to take form. Martha's face beamed and she seemed to grow young again; a faint rose color crept into her faded cheeks, and ber eyes sparkled with happiness, She seldom went out of doors, but sat at home enjoying to the fall every sound which hrought nearer the gratification of her ambition, At length, one December noontide, the echo of the hammer ceased, the saws and planes were still, the carpenters packed up their tools and returved to the city, and Martha Crocker stood in childish delight at the foot of the completed staircase. Her expression was one of perfect satis- faction. There was no regres at the ex- penditare of her money, no shade of dis- appointment in the realization of her dream. She saw nothing incongruous in the stateliness of the ball and the humble- ness of the tiny parlor with its stuff hair- cloth furniture, wax flowers and faded carpet. She failed to note the apologetic air which the entire hoase bad assn to- ward the magnificent guest in the ball. She saw only the shadowy reflection of her own face in the polished surface of the stairs, and as she la.d ber cheek almoss caressingly against the carved banister a sigh of pure happiness escaped her lips. The stairs had heen finished about a week aud everyone in the little town who conld find the ghost of an excuse had been to call on Martha Crocker. Men came with errands from their wives, and wives came to see whether their husbands had remem: bered to come; children came with every sort ol reason for coming; the minister caine; and people whom poor Martha bad never known io her life now took the op- portunity to open a longdesired acquain- tance. e little house was overflowing with visitors morning, noon and night,and not one went away without casually re- marking during the call, “Why, baven’t you some new stairs, Mrs. Crocker?'’ quite as 2 he had aver heard of Hem before. most the only person who possessed the physical sirsngel to reach Martha Creeker’s home, bad not bern there, was Mary Dole. Much as she secretly de- sired to see the marvel of which she bad heard so much, she could not bring hercelf to go to her sister-in-law’s house. “If she regretted it one bis,” said Mary to the minister, *‘I'd go; but folks say she’s as of ’em as she can be, and her heart ain’t softened one mite about the sin of havin’ 'em.” Another week before Mary Dole conquered h f safficiently to go to Martha's. Is was late in the afterncon when she started, and deep twilight when she reached the low, white house. There told, for at the foot of the stairs lay Mar- tha Crocker, white and unconscious, while around her was scattered the contents of an overturned workbasket. “She's slipped and fell down ‘em, true as I live!” whispered Mary Dole. “Those stairs was the temptation of Satan and the devil himself is in ‘em!” All anger was forgotten as she went hur- riediy forward and knelt beside the help. less figure huddied on the floor. She spoke to Martha in a scared whisper as she ten- derly bathed her forehead, Lint no answer came, “It's a jedument of the Lord upon her,’ said Mary at last in a low tone, “No, it ain't,” replied Martha Crocker, slowly opening her eyes, and smiling whimsizally. “I ain't nsed to coming downstairs a« if I was Queen Elizabeth — I'll have to practice a little.” Mary got her up on her feet, and it aotu- ally proved that beyond a badly wrenched ankle there really was nothing the matter with the plucky little woman. With the | aid of a cane she was about again in a few days, much to the chagrin of there who searched the Scriptures for texts toapply to the fate which had befallen her, Of course the ‘haughty spirit’? which is generally admitted to precede soch a calam- ity was guoted broadcast, and sympathy did not inereass when all sort« of queer packages began to go to the Crocker house, By mail and by express they came anti the neighbors were nearly beside them- selves with curiosity. “Spendin’ more of her maney on foolish. ness,” snapped Mary Dole “Well, noth- in’ ghe cau do will surprise me now, She may be havin’ royal rohes sent ber forall I know,” “It ie wnfortunate and ead.” said My. Perkins, ‘to see a woman of her sage so eelf-centered and drawn toward the vani- tien of this life.” So the village was uaprepared to have a neat, white envalope come through the mail to every child in town, and more un prepared yee when on opening it they read: Martha Crocker requests the pleasure of your company on her Front Stairs on Christmas Afternoon at 3 o’eleek. *“What 18 it goin’ to he? What new thing is Martha Crocker goin’ to do now?'’ every- hody asked. Of course they went, every child,attend- ed in most cases hy both parents, * just to see that Johnnie got here safe,”’ they said apologetically as they came in the back door. None of them had ever witnessed such a scene as met their eves. At the foot of the stairs stood a huge Christmas tree, laden to the utmoss with sparkling tinsel, candles and toys, while on the stairs from top to bottom were tier alter tier of eager, happy children. Martha Crocker came modestly ont he- fore the tree with her face beaming, and, turning to the many paments and neighbors crowded into the little parlor, said: “Of course I know yon didn’t any of yon approve of my havin’ these stairs. It did seem foolish and you didn’t understand what they ment to me—I never can make you; but the stairs were only half of what I wanted. I wanted somethin’ else thas I couldn’t buy with any of my money. Always when I shuts my eyes and thought of the stairs it was with children goin’ up and down em. Ezra and me never had any children’ —the tears came into her eyes and she stopped a moment—‘‘and 80,"" she continued, with a nervous little laugh, “I'm borrowin’ all yours. I want em to come every Christmas Day just like this, and I want em to remember the fun they've had on Martha Crocker’s stairs, and maybe sometimes they'll want to come and run about the house if it aint Christ. mas. And now,” tarning to Mr. Perkins, who had come in answer to a most uigent note, “if you will help me, we'll take the things off this tree.” Such a fete as it was! At the end there were ice cream and candy enongh to satisfy even the most unfillahle small boy in the village. As Mr. Perkins turned homeward a throng of new saggestions and queries as- sailed his theology. In a subtle eense it seemed that the very radiance of the win- ter sunset was a reflestion of Martha Crock- er's Jlilvsphy. “I may be backslidin’ myself,”” he mur- mured, with a grim laugh, “bat I'm glad she bad ‘em.”’ Meantime. alone in her tiny honse, Martha Crocker crept happily to bed and closed her tired eyes upon her first Merry Christmas.—By Sarah Ware Bassett, in Watson's Magazine. To Beautify Atlantic at $5,000,000 Cost. Experts, retained at a cost of several thousand dollars, arrived in Atlantic City early last week to lay out plans for spend- ing $5,000,000 for beautifying the resort under direction of a general committee representing every busivess and civio in- terest in the city. The action is the first real result attained by the committee in the carrying out of what is intended to be one of the most ambitions municipal schemes for public improvement ever at- tempted by an American resort city. The plans include not only a general ontline of street improvement, but a filling of plans for changes in the architectural appearance of both the beach front and the main avenues of the city. The experts are also to be consulted concerning the advis- ability of rebuilding the Boardwalk with reinforced concrete, making it a honlevard ranking with the great sea front drives and footways of European cities. Another project already under consid. eration by officials is the opening of a canal across the back of the city, affording an in- side waterway for use of pleasure craft and flanked by a fine boulevard. This p alone will cost more than $1,000,000, bug, it is estimated, would bring in three times the sum in taxation from increase in values of land from the ocean to the meadows, The committee is also considering plans for a magnificent system of illumination that will turn tha city into a hlaze of eleo- tric lights after night fall. Railroads en- tering the city and corporations owning street franchises are to be asked to join in the decoration by electricity and to build their terminals to conform to the general scheme of architeotvre. The work is i $i of soliujthees from City Council, Hotel Men's League, Busi- ness Men's Association and Board of Trade who have selected the central committee and the Expats who will take over the Wok Yt ad ising She plans. The work is expected to take from ten to twenty years for entire fulfillment, The Ins And Outs of Life. Frieod—The office boy was confid. ing to me that he wanted to the boss rhe hs fen’t it? I was envying Pit om ig oy ? ——Even the slow fellow can ges lost forever in the rapide. A Joke on China, I think 'twould be a jolly joke To plant an acorn upside-down ; So that some day a great big oak Wouid sprout io some old China town, — Housekeeper, The Farmer's Daughter. The recent sessions of farwer’s institutes at Pie Grove, Pleasant Gap and Miles. barg, proved of unusual interest and no little part of their success i= aseribable to the address of Mis. G. G. Pond, wife of the Dean of the Schoo! of Chemistry at The Peunsvivania State College. Mrs, Pond has long been active in elab and eda- cational extension movements, but her talk to the womer of the farm carried her into | an entirely new field, She seems to have been #0 much at home there that we pub- lish her excellent widress so that more may have the opportunity of profiting hy is, Women are divided into two great classes; the first class feels loo independent ro be in- terested in the welfare of man, or to be dis. posed to help him; the second class is so independent that she can spend her whole life studying how she may best be of ser- vioe to him. I belong to the second class, I have studied men of all ages and in many cot dittons and | have failed to find the age or condition in which he is not really de- pendent apon the weaker (2) rex, Let me whisper a secret to yon, every man deep down in his heart, when he mar- | ries thinks he has 1escued a woman from spinsterhood, Ab, yes, hut the woman res. cnes the wan «he mariies from a much harder fate, she rescues him from himself, Thus we see how true it is tha: man needs onr highest powers and wisest services, and it is here that I come to my subjees, ‘The Farmer's Daughter.” I have thought a great deal about girls and ther training; indeed I might sav thas I have thoughe of very listle else for a good many years. The work of my life has been to do something for my own girls and I sprak to you, mothers and daughters, out ol my own experience, which of course is nairow as all personal experiences must be, but for that very reason perhaps it has been more intense. It is not the city girl I am interested in, but the country girl. [ was a country girl, myeell, ‘once upon a time,” in fact all my life has been spent in the country. I am that it has been go arranged for me, I hope to show hy doing all I can to make the conntry girl see her opportunities and seize upon them. The first question I ask myself is, ‘‘Has the girl of today everything she would like to bave ?"’ Of course not, who has ? The next question is, ‘Has she everything she oaght to have for her own good and for the good of the community in which she should be a powerful influence 2’ Here there is chance for a difference of opinoin, bat say emphatioally, “No!” We must all agree thas the girl of today looks at life very differently from the way in which her grandmothers looked at it. Many things that the woman of 1800 did for herself are done for her grand-daughter just as cheap- ly and in much less time. Our great grandmother, besides uunder- standing all the kinds of house work which we still have to do, such a« sweeping, dust. ing, washing, ironing and cooking, made all the soap, candles, cheese, wines, and cordials; she spun yarn from wool and thread from flax; she could weave and embroider; she conld shrink eloth or stretch is to meet the requirments ; she could dye and bleach cloth; she made all the gar. ments worn hy the diffrrent members of the family; she darned and mended every- thing well; she braided rugs, gathered and brewed medicinal herbs and knew which shonld be used for one disease and which for another. Let me repeat, she accomplished all these things in addition to the duties of ordi- nary housekeeping as you and I know them. Now then, what have we to show as an off