srg
Bellefonte, Pa., March 22, 1907.
OVER AND OVER AGAIN,
Over and over again, '
No matter which way I turn,
Ialways find in the book of life
Some lesson | have to learn,
1 must take my turn at the mill,
I must grind out the golden grain,
I must work at my task with a resolute will
Over and over again.
We cannot measure the need
Of even the tiniest flower,
Nor check the flow of the golden sands
That run through a single hour;
But the morning dews must fall,
And the sun and the summer rain
Must do their part, and perform it all
Over and over again.
Over and over again
The brook through the meadow flows.
And over and over again
The ponderous mill-wheel goes.
Once doing will not suffice,
Though doing be not in vain,
And a blessing failing us once or twice
May come if we try again.
The path that has once been trod
Is never so rough to the feet,
And the lesson we once have learned
Is never #o hard to repeat.
Though sorrowful tears must fall,
And the heart to its depths be driven
With storm and tempest, we need them all
To render us mect for heaven,
~Josermise Porrarp,
TO A LOST CHILD.
My little child, so long away,
Hast thou forgotten me?
And does some Mother Soul in heaven
Play kissing games With thee?
Then does it seem, the playing done,
The hour is come for rest,
And that as yellow as the moon
Thy head lies on her breast.
I bid you hold him, Mother Soul,
As if he were your own;
1 bid thee soflly, softly lie,
0 child that I have known!
— Harper's Bazar,
THE BRIDGE ACROSS THE YEARS.
John was expected on the five o'clock
stage. Mrs. John had been there three days
now, and John’s father and mother were
almost packed up—so Mrs. John said. The
auction would be to-morrow at nine o'clock,
and with John there to see tbat things
“hustled’’—which last was really unnec-
essary to mention, for John’s very presence
meant ‘hustle’ —with John there, then,
the whole thing onght to be over by one
o'clock, and they off in season to catch the
alternoon express.
And what a time it bad been—those three
days ! Mrs. John, resting in the big chair
on the front porch, thought of those days
with ofmplacency—that they were over.
Grandpa and Grandma Burton, hovering
over old treasures in the attic, thought of
them with terrified dismay —that they bad
ever begun.
“I am coming up on Tuesday.” Mrs.
John bad written. ‘‘We have been think-
ing for some time that you and father
ought not to be left alone up there on the
farm any longer. Now don’t worry about
the packing. I shall bring Marie, and you
won’t have to lilt your finger. John will
come Thursday night, and he there for the
auction on Friday. By that time we shall
have picked out what 1+ worth saving, and
everything will be ready for him to take
matters in band. I think he has already
written to the auctioneer, vo tell [father to
give himself no uneasiness on that score.
“John says he thinks we can bave you
back here with us by Friday night, or Sat-
urday at the latest. Yon know John's
way, 80 you may he sure there will be no
tiresome delay. Your rooms here will be
all ready before I leave, so that part will
be all right.
“This may seem a bit sudden to you,
but you know we have always told you
that the time was surely coming when you
couldn’t live alone any longer. John
thinks it bas come now; and, as said be-
fore, you know John, so, after all, you
won't be surprised at his going right ahead
with things. We shall do everything pos-
sible to make you comfortable, and I am
sure yon will be very happy here.
“‘Good-by, then, until Tuesday. With
love to both of you.
Eprri.”’
That had heen the beginning. To Grand-
pa aud Grandma Barton it had come like a
thunderclap on a clear day. They had
known, to be sure, that son John frowned
& little at their lonely life; bat that there
shounld come this sudden transplanting, this
ruthless twisting and tearing of roots that
for sixty years had heen burrowing deeper
and deeper—it was almost beyoovd one's
comprehension.
And there was the auction !
“We sha'n't need that, anyway,”
Grandma Burton bad said at once. “What
few things we don’t want to keep [ shall
give away. Aa auction, indeed ! Pray,
what have we to sell ?"’
“Hm’m ! To be sure, to be sure,’ her
hasband bad murmured; but his face was
troubled, and later he had said,apologetical-
ih: “Yon see, Hannah, there’s the farm
things. We don’t need them.’
On Tuesday Mre. John and the somewhat
awesome Marie—to whom Grandpa and
Grandma Burton never could learn not to
courtesy—arrived ; and almost at once
Grandma Burton discovered that not only
“farm things,”’ but such precions treasures
as the hair wreath and the parlor-set were
auctiouable. In fact, everything the house
contained, except their clothing and a few
crayon portraits, seemed to be in the same
y.
“Bat, mother dear,” Mrs. John had re-
turned, with a laugh, in response to Grand-
ma Barton’s horrified remonstrances, ‘‘jnst
wait until you see your rooms, and how
fall they are of beautiful thinge, and then
you'll understand.’’
‘‘But they won’t bhe—these,”’ the old
voice had quavered; and Mrs. Jobn had
laughed again, and had patted her mother-
in-law’s cheek, aud had echoed—but with
a different shade of meaning—‘‘No, they
certainly won't be these !”’
In the attic now, on a worn black trunk
sat the little old man, and down on the
Rous before an antiquated cradle knelt his
e.
“They was all rocked in it, Seth,” she
was saying, ‘‘Jobn and the twinsand my
two little girls; and now there ain’t any
one loft only John—and the cradle.”
“I know, Hannah, but you ain’t usin’
that nowadaye, so you don’t really need
it,” comforted the old man. ‘‘But there's
my big chair now-—geems as though we jest
oughter take that. Why, there ain’s a day
goes by that I don’t set in is I"
“But John's wife says there's better ones
there, Seth,” soothed the old woman in her
turn, ‘‘as much as four or five of ’em right
in our rooms.’
“So she did, so she did !"” murmured
the man. “I’m an ongrateful thing ;s0 I
be.”
There was a long pause. The old man
drummed with his fingers on the trunk and
watched a cloud sail across the skylight.
The woman gently swung the cradle to and
fro.
“If only they wa’n’t goin’ ter be—sold!"
she choked, after a time. “I can look at
‘em, and feel of em, and—and remember
every dress I've bad since I was a girl; and
there's that hair wreath—seems as if I jest
couldn't let that go, Seth. ‘‘Why, there's
your hair, and John's, and some of the
twins,’ and—"’
‘“There, there, dear; now I jest wouldn't
fret,’’ cut in the old man, quickly. ‘Like
enough when you get used ter them other
things on the wall you'll like em even bet-
ier than the bair wreath. John’s wife says
she’s taken lots of pains and fixed 'em up
with pictures and curtains and everythin’
| nice,”’ went on Seth, talking very fast.
| “Why, Hannah, it’s you that’s being on-
| grateful now, dear!"
| “So 'tis, so tis, Seth, and it ain’t right
and I know it. I ain't a-goin’ ter do go no
more; now see !"" And she hravely turned
her back on the cradle and walked, head
ereot, toward the attio stairs.
John came at five o'clock. He engulfed
the little old man and the little old woman
in a bearlite hug, and breezily demanded
what they]had been doing to themselves to
make them look =o forlorn. In the very
next hreath, however, he answered his own
question, and declared that it was hecause
they had heen living all cooped up alone so
long—=o it was; and that it was high time
it was stopped, and that he bad come to do
it ! Whereupon the old man and the old
woman smiled bravely and told each other
what a good, good son they had, to he
sare !
Friday dawned clear, and not ton warm
—an ideal auction-day. Long hefore nine
o'clock the yard was full of teams and the
house of people. Among them all, how-
ever, there was no sign of the bent old man
and the erect little old woman, the owners
of the property to be sold. John and Mrs.
John were not a little distnrbed—they had
lost their father and mother.
Nine o'clock came, and with it began
the strident call of the auctionner. Men
laughed and joked over their bids, aod
women looked on and gossiped, adding a
bid of their own now and then. Every-
where was the son of the house, and things
went through with a rush. Up-stairs, in tbe
darkest corner of the attic—which had been
cleared of goods—sat, hand in haod on an
old packing-box, a little old man and a lit.
tle old weman who winced and shrank to-
gether every time tbe ‘‘Goiog, going,
gone !" floated up to them from the yard
below.
At half past one the last wagon rumbled
out of the yard, and five minutes later Mr.
John gave a relieved ory.
“Ob, there you are ! Why, mother, fath-
er, where have you been?’
There was no reply. The old man chok-
ed back a cough and bent to flick a bit of
dust from his coat. The old woman turn-
ed and crept away, her erect little figure
looking suddenly bent and old.
‘Why, what—"' began John, as his fath-
er, too, turned away. ‘‘Why, Edith, youn
don’t suppose—"' he stopped with a help-
less frown.
‘Perfectly watural, my dear, perfectly
natal,’ returned Mrs. Joun, lightly.
“We'll get them away immediately. It'll
be all right when once they are started.”
Some hoars later a very tired old wan
and a still more tired old woman crept into
a pair of sumptuous canopy-topped twin
8.
There was only one remark.
“Why, Seth, mine ain’t feathers a mite !
Is yours?"
There was no reply. Tired nature had
triumphed —Seth was asleep.
They made a brave fight, those two.
They told themselves that the chairs were
easier, the carpeis softer, aud the pictares
prettier than those that had gone under the
hammer that day as they =at band in hand
in the attic. They assured each other that
the nvaccustomed richness of window and
bed hangings and the profusion of strange
vases and statuettes did not make them
afraid to stir lest they soil or hreak some-
thing. They insisted to each other that
they were not homesick, aud that they
were perfectly satisfied as they were. And
yet—
When no one was looking Grandpa Bur-
ton tried chair after chair, and wondered
why there was only one particular chair in
the whole world that jast exactly *‘fitted;”
aud when the twilight hour came Grandma
Burton wondered what she wonld give to
be able just to sit by the old cradle and talk
with the past.
The newspapers said it was a most mar-
vellous escape for the whole family. They
gave a detailed account of how the beauti-
ful residence of the Honorabl: Jobn Bar-
ton, with all its costly furnishings, had
burned to the gronnd,and of how the entire
family was saved, makiog special mention
of the honorable gentleman’s aged father
and mother. No one was injured. [fortu-
nately, avd the family had taken up a tem-
porary residence in the nearest hotel. It
was understood that Mr. Burton would
Begin rebuilding at once.
e newspapers were right—M-. Burton
did begin rebuilding at once; in fact, the
ashes of the Burton mansion were not cold
before John Barton began to interview
architects and contraotors.
“It'll be *way ahead of the old one,’ he
confided to his wife enthusiastically.
Mrs. John sighed.
*‘I know, dear,” she began, plaintively;
“‘but, don’s yon see ? it won’t be the same
—it can’t be. Why, some of those things
we've bad ever since we were married.
They seemed a part of me, John. I was
used to them. I had grown up with some
of them—those candlesticks of mamma's,
for instance, that she had when I was a bis
of a baby. Do you think money can bay
another pair that—that were hers?’ And
Mrs. John barst into tears.
“Come, come, dear,” protested her hus-
band, with a hasty caress and a nervous
glance at the clock—he was due at the
bank in ten minutes. ‘‘Don’t fret about
what can’t be helped; besides’’—and he
laughed whimsically—*‘youn must look out
or you'll be getting as bad as mother over
her bair wreath !”’ And with another hasty
pat on her shoulder he was gone.
Mrs. John suddenly stopped her crying.
She lowered her bandkerchief Te
fixedly at an old print on the wall apposite.
The hotel—though strictly modern in coi-
sine and management— was an old one,and
prided itself on the quaintness of its old-
time furnishings. ust what the print
represented Mrs. John could not have told,
though her eyes did not swerve from its
face for five long minutes. What she did
things. Now there's them quilts with all |
my dress pieces in 'em—a piece of "most |
see was a silent, dismantled farmbouse,and
a listle old man and a little old woman
with drawn faces and damb lips.
Was it possible ? Had she indeed been so
blind ? ,
Mrs. John rose to ber feet, bathed her
eyes, straightened her veck-bow, and cross-
ed the ball to Grandma Barton's room.
“Well, mother, and how are youn getting
along?’ she asked, oheerily.
tle old woman, eagerly.
it seers kind of nataral like; mebbe it's
almost like his at home.”’
It was a good beginning, and Mrs. Jobn
made the most of it. Under her skillful
guidance Grandma Burton, in less than five
minutes, had gone from the chair to the old
clock which her father used to wind, and
from the clock to the bureau where she
kept the dead twins’ listle white shoes and
bonnets. She told, too, of the cherished
parlor chairs and marble-topped table, and
of how she and father had saved and saved
for years to buy them; and even now, as
she talked, her voice rang with pride of
possession—though for only a moment; it
shook then with the remembrance of loss,
There was no complaint, it i< true, no
audible longing for lost trensares. There
was only the unwonted joy of pouring into
sympathetic ears the story of things loved
and lost—things the very mention of which
brought sweet faint echoes of voices long
gince silent.
“There, there,” hroke off the little old
woman at last, “how Iam runnin’ on!
But, somehow, somethin’ set me to talkin’
ter-day. Mebbe "twas that chair that's
like yer father's,” she hazarded.
“Maybe is wae,” agreed Mrs.
quietly, as she 10%e to her feet.
The new house came on apace. In a
wonderfully «hort tin.e John Burton began
to urge his wife to see ahont rogs and hang-
ings. It was then that Mrs. John called
him to one side and said a lew horried but
very earnest worde—words that made the
Honorable John open wide his eyes.
“But, Edith,” he remonstrated, ‘‘are
| you crazy ?
| The things . re scattered over half a dozen
Ctownships; vesides, I haven't the least idea
where the anctioneer’s list is—if I saved it
| at all.”
‘Never mind, dear; I may try, surely,”
begged Mrs. John; and her husband langh-
ed and reached for his check-book.
“Try ? Of conte yon may try ! And
here's this hy way of wishing you good
luck,” he finished, as he handed her an
oblong bit of paper thas would go far to-
ward smoothing the most difficult of ways.
“You dear !"’ cried Mrs. John. *‘And
now I'm going to work.” .
It was at about this time that Mre, John
John,
and hoarding school; John was absorbed in
husiness and house-building, and Grandpa
and Grandma Barton were contented and
well cared for. There really seemed to he
no reason why Mrs. John shon!d not go
away, if she wished—and she apparently
did wish.
It was at about this time, too, that cer-
tain Vermont villages—one of which was
the Honorable John Burton's birthplace—
were stirred to sudden interest and action.
A persistent, smiling-faced woman had
dropped into their midst—a woman who
drove from house to house, and who, in
every cave, left behind her a sworn ally and
friend, pledged to serve her cause.
Little by little,in an unoeed room in the
village hotel there began to accumulate a
motley collection—a clock.a marble-topped
table, a cradle,a patchwork quilt, a bureau,
a bair wreath, a chair worn with age and
use. And as this collection grew in size
and fame, only that family which could not
add to it counted itself abused and unfortu-
pate, xo reat was the spell that the per-
sistent, smiling faced woman had cast
about her.
Just before the Barton house was finish-
ed Mis. John came back to town. She bad
to hurry a little about the last of the dec:
orations and furnishings to make up for
loat time; but there came a day when the
place was pronounced ready for occupancy.
It was then that Mrs. John hurried into
Grandpa and Grandma Burton’s rooms at
the hotel.
‘‘Come, dears,’’ she said, gayly. ‘“‘The
house is all ready, and we're going home.”
‘Done? Soroon ?’* faltered Grandma
Burton, who had not heen told very much
concerning the new home's progress.
“Why, how quick they bave built ie 1?
There was a note of regret in the trem.
ulous old voice, hut Mrs. John did not
seem to notice. The old man, too, rose
from his chair with a long sigh—and again
Mrs. Jobo did not seem to notice.
‘Yes, dearie, yes, it’s all very nice and
fine,” xaid Grandma Burton, wearily, half
an hour later as she trudged through the
samptpous parlors and halls of the new
house; “but, if you don’t mind, I guess
I'll go to my room, davghter. I'm tired
—terrible tired.” :
*Up the stairs and along the ball trailed
the little procession—Mrs. John, John, the
hent old man, and the little old woman.
At the end of the hall Mrs. John pansed a
moment, then flung a door wide open.
There was a gasp and a quick step for-
ward; then came the sudden illamination
of two wrinkled old faces.
“John! Edith 2'—it was a ery of mingled
joy and wonder.
There was no reply. Mis. John had
closed the door and lefe them there with
their treasures.—By Eleanor P. Porter, in
Harper's Bazar.
——An upcounntry business man was
once introduced to Abbot Lawrence.
*‘Mr. Smith,’ said Mr. Lawrence, with
a musing air. ‘I don’t think I know you,
pt 11 h
ell, you ought to,’ was the reply.
“I've traded with you for twenty veo
‘‘Always paid your bills, perhaps?’
“Of course.”
“That accounts for it,” said Mr. Law-
rence. ‘‘I know the others.”
——AnR American and a Scotchman were
on a high kill in Scotland and the Scoteh-
man was bragging of the extent of view.
“I suppose you can see America from
hereon a fine day?'’ eaid the American,
gly.
A aye, further than that,”’ was the re-
y.
“Farther than that?”
‘““Aye! on a fine nicht we can see the
mune.”
—*‘He’s positively the worst actor I
ever saw,"’ said the first manager; ‘a regu-
lar ham, in facs.”’
“Oh,” soggested the other; ‘‘perbaps
he'll get over his faults in time.”’
“No: he's a haw that can’t be cured.”
—— ‘Money bas wings and flies away,
‘I’ve heard,” said the man with a scar ;
‘‘But I've put lots of dough ina flying
ne
Yet it never has flown very far.”
It simply couldn’t he done ! |
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*‘Jest as nice as can be, daughter—and | and multiply it bv nine.
ain’t this room pretty ?'’ returned the lit- | choose two, which multiplied by nine will,
“Do youn know, | of course, give us eighteen.
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went away. The children were at college |
Fan Wah Figures.
SOME CURIOUS AND INTERESTING FACTS
ABOUT THE FIGURE NINE.
Write down in a row all the numerals
except eight, thus:
1 23456179
Now choose any one of these numerals
Suppose we
Then multiply your row of figures by
because of that chair there. Seth says it's | this:
12345679
18
98765432
12345679
22222
The answer, you see, 1s all twos. if you
bad chosen three the answer then would
bave been all threes— and =o on.
Another carious fact i= that if you write
down any number tn three figures and then
reverse those figures and subtract the lesser
amount, you will find that the middle
fignre of the amount of the answer is al
ways nine:
Pry it thus, write. ........coreonerirnrnnnss 763
Now reverse them. .....c.cceceeriirercrren 367
Now reverse again, hat this time add
to the AIOUBE Lo ini 693
1089
Your answers will always be the same,
1,089 —except in one instavee, if the first
two figures you write are alike and the
last figure next in regular order as 778,
EBT, 776, 998.
In that case you will get 99 for your an-
swer, but by again adding thie, and then
adding this sum reversed you come back
to your 1,089,
Example:
76
Reversed 677 Substracted
99
99 Added
198
Reversed 891 Added
1089
Of the many curious results reached by
the various combinations of the number 9,
the following iv not the least remarkable:
Take any number yon please (provided
the number does not read the same back-
| ward as forward) and, baving written it
down, write it backward, that is, make the
last figure of the firss the first fignre of the
second, and so on, so that the Gis figure of
the first shall be the last of the second;
subtract the lesser from the greater, and
multiply the remainder, or difference, hy
any number yon please. From the product
thus obtained rah ont any one figure ( pro-
vided the figure i< not 9) and add together
the remaining figures, as if they were all
units, If the sum contains mere than one
figure, repeat the operation, than is, add
together the figures of the sum as if they
were all unite, and continue to thus repeat
until the sum is expressed hy a single
figure ruhbzd ont will always be what it
is required to make 9 when added to this
final figure.
For instance, soppose the sum of the
figures of the product when added togeth-
er, after rubbing out one figure, he 157;
thie, being expressed hy more than one
figure, is again added—1 and 5 and 7 make
13; this, again, being likewise more than
one fignie, is again added—1 und 3 make
4. Therefore the fignre rubbed ont was 5,
that being the number required to make
9
So, if the final figure be 6, the figuie
rubbed ont was 3; if the final figure rubbed
out was 7; if the final figore he 9,the figure
rubbed out was 0.
Thie result will never fail.
An amusing game can be built up on
this. One of a party, without knowing
what were the nunthers used, or the fig-
nres rubbed out, hy the others,can instant.
ly declare the latter, in each case, upon be-
ing told what is the final figure of the cal-
caiation.—[ Saint Nicholas.
The Stars on Coins.
Numismatists probably will be interest-
ed in an explanation made by Acting
Director of the Mint R. E. Preston of the
reason the stars ou the coins of the United
States bave six points; while those on the
flag have but five.
The question was raised by Elizabeth S.
Dickinson, of Lexington, Mass., in a letter
to Captain Ross of the revenne cutter serv-
foe, who in tarn referred it to Mr. Preston.
In kis explanation the acting director said:
“In English heraldry six or more points
denote a star. The earliest examples of
colonial coins all have the six-pointed siar,
which is correct, according to English her-
aldry. It is presumed that when the time
came to adopt designs for the coins of the
united States, English heraldry was con-
sulted, and the colonial coins were follow-
ed in matters of detail like the stars. The
flag of the United States, as you are aware,
is made up very largely from the coat-of-
arms of Washiogton. Where both the
stripes and stars are found, the stars bave
but five points.
Washington was a member of the com-
mittee for designing the flag, and probably
had these stars in mind when the d
war under construction, and no doubt his
opinion would control the other members
of the committee.
On the five franc piece of the French
Republic stars with six points will be
found. There are other examples besides
the flag and the coins where the stars differ
in the number of points. The stars oa the
eat seal and the President of the United
tates are five pointed, while on the seal
of the Hounse of Representatives they are
six-pointed. ;
The thirteen stars on the obverse of the
present half and quarter-dollar are six-
pointed, while on the reverse they are five-
nted. Ib explanation of this difference
would state that the reverse of the pres-
ent half and quarter-dollar is a copy of the
great seal, except that the'clouds are omit-
ted. It is evident that heraldry has not
taken a very strong hold in these matters
in the United States; therefore it is not in
the power of anyone to say withouta douht
why the difference in th2stars oo the flag
and the coins.
So far as we know, with the exception of
the reverse of the present half and quarter.
dollar, the stars on our coins are copied
from the colonial coins, which were, no
doubt, made after the manuer of English
heraldry, while the flag was made up alter
the a of Washington’s coat.of-arms,
containing three five-pointed stars.—
[Washington Post.]
——*“I think,"’ said the reporter, ‘‘i.at
the public would like to know how you
manage to such a great age.’’
“By perseverance,” replied the centena-
rian. *‘I jest kept on livin’.”’
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That Leviathan.
As tothe depth to which whales can de-
=cend, opinions have changed considerably
of late years. It was once supposed that
they went down to great depths; hut the
effects of pressure would manifestly render
this quite impessible; and in the opinion of
the great authority, Frank Bullen, a depth
of one hundred yards is probably their ex-
treme limit.
port from the fact that the food of most
species consists of animals living on or near
tie surface; and likewise by the practical
experience of whalers in connection with
the amount of line taken out by harpooned
whales. The sperm-whale, which feeds on
larze cuttlefishes, seems, however, in sone
degree, to be an exception; there heing
circumstantial evidence that these mon-
asters, in certain instances, touch the ocean
bottem, although at what depth is still an-
kuown.
Modern observation has thrown much
new light on the “spouting.” or breathing,
of whales In this connection it is perhap«
almost saperflaous to mention that the
water, or spray, included in the ‘pout’
i= merely adventitious, and due either to
the condensed maiz are of the breath, or to
the creature beginning to *‘hlow’’ hefare
reaching the surface. Kecent photographs
of spouting whalex nave demonstrated not
only that there is great difference in the
form of the spount, hutalso that the height
to which it aseend« is much less than for
merly snpposed ; even that of the *‘sulphur
bottom,” or Sibbald's whale —the huogest
member of the whole group—averaging not
more than fourteen feet, althongh oceasion-
ally reaching as much as twenty feet.
Whether the reference in Psalm 104 10
“that leviathan, whom thou hast made to
play therein,’ really relates to the gamhbols
of torquals or hamphacks in the Red Sea
or not, certain it ist! at cetaceans of every |
kind are among the moat playful and spor-
tive of all animals. The greatest adept at
these sportive performances is undoabtedly
the humpbacked whale, which delights 10
throw its huge carcase clear out of the
water, to lie on its side with one of the
long white flippers standing vertically out
of the water like a gigantic sword, or to
‘dance’ upright, with ite head raised
above the surface. The sperm-whale is,
however, not far behind in this respect,and
when “‘hreaching’’ shoots its sixty feet af
leagth to a height above the surface sufhi-
cient to render iteell vigihle from the mast
head ata distance of hall a dozen miles,
— Review.
18 DEAD IN FLAMES AND FLOOD
Terrified By Factory Fire, Scores Leap
Into the Water.
Wheeling, W. Va., March 18, —
lost their lives in the early morning
fire that occurred at the plant of the
Warwick Pottery company, which is
located in the flooded district.
Because of the water surrounding
the burning district jt was impossible
for the fire apparatus to reach the
scene. The firemen pressed into ser-
vice all the boats that could be se:
cured and carried the lines of hose to
the burning building by this means.
They did heroic work and not only
fought the fire but assisted in rescuing
many persons.
Had the drowned persons remained
in their homes none of them would
have met death. The buildings occu:
pied by the unfortunate victims were
not touched by the flames. The ex
plosion that started the fire is what
terrified the people living in the vi
cinity.
No sooner had the report of the ex:
plosion occurred than people com:
menced leaping from the windows into
the water. Not all of those who met
death were drowned by jumping into
the water. Five of them were drown:
ed by the upsetting of a boat that was
carrying them to a place of safety.
WORKING FOR TAFT
Friends Say He Will Get Ohic Nomi
nation For Presidency.
Washington, March 19.—That Wil
liam Howard Taft, of Ohio, will go be
fore the next Republican national con
vention as a candidate for the presi
dential nomination, with many, if not
all, of the 46 delegates from his own
state of Ohio behind him, is regarded
here as a pretty safe political wager.
Senator Foraker, it is declared, will
not be a candidate for first honors
next year, and it is said that his sup-
port will be thrown to Mr. Taft. With
Ohio solidly behind him, the adminis
tration favorable to his candidacy and
approved by conservatives who look
askance upon some of the Roosevelt
policies, the friends of Mr. Taft be
lieve that he looms up head and
shoulders above all others whose
names have been mentioned as likely
candidates.
KILLED BY CANNED PEACHES
Two Boys Dead and Mother Dying
From Ptomaine Poisoning.
Richmond, Va., March 18.—As a re
sult of ptomaine poisoning, caused by
eating canned peaches, Melvin Ives, 13
vears old, and Leonard Lee Ives, 7
years old, sons of Mr. and Mrs, W. W,
Ives, of Hampton, Va., are dead, and
their mother is believed to be dying.
The mother and boys were stricken
last Wednesday.
President's Summer Plans.
Washington, March 19.—Tentative
plans for the president's summer at
Oyster Bay have been disoussed at
the White House. As now contem-
plated he will leave Washington for
that place somewhere between the
20th and 25th of June. If he can con-
viently get away earlier he will do so.
A trip to Indianapolis and Lansing,
Mich, and two trips to the Jamestown
exposition are on the program before
the president's vacation begins.
Archie Roosevelt Sits Up.
Washington, March 18. — Archie
Roosevelt's condition is still improv-
ing. and Surgeon General Rixey an-
qounced that the quarantine restric-
tions imposed on account of the boy's
illness will be raised in a few days.
Archie sat up in bed. Theodore Roose-
velt, Jr., arrived from Harvard and
will remain at the White House until
after Easter
f
i
i
i capitol in a progressive manner.
|
Eighteen persons are known to have | the legislators should realize that such
GROUNDS FOR
THE CAPITOL
| Bill For. the Enlargement Well on
This conclusion receives sup- |
Its Way to Final Passage.
rr
Harrisburg, Pa., March 18. — The
change in public sentiment among
members of the senate and the house
of representatives in favor of the en-
argement of Capitol Park noted two
weeks ago, is much more pronounced
at present than it was then.
The Fox bill has passed the senate
by a vote of 33 to 7. When it comes
up in the house, which it probably will
this week or next, it is believed that
whatever opposition there was will
have disappeared because the members
have come to better realize the neces-
sity of making the improvement now
and because they have learned that the
sentiment of the people of the state
generally is favorable.
Several of the leading daily papers
in Philadelphia have taken the trouble
to inform themselves of the exact sit-
uation with the result that they are all
heartily in favor of the Fox bill
In a recent editorial article the Phila-
delphia Inquirer, the one out-and-out
Republican organ among the dailies
of Philadelphia, most heartily approved
the measure.
The Republican Philadelphia Press
on Sunday, March 10, in a leading edi-
torial said, “The present legislature has
a unique opportunity to carry out a
great public improvement in Harris-
burg through the passage of the bill
intreduced by Senator Fox appropriat-
ing an adequate sum to develop a park
east of the state capitol. There should
be no hesitancy on the part of the
legislature to secure now what should
have been secured two years ago.
None of those who are back of the park
project either connived at or stood for
the enormous expenditure on the capi-
tol; but they have in season and out
of season insisted that the legislature
meet the situation created by the new
And
a park as is contemplated is not only
a benefit to Harrisburg but to the state
at large.”
In an editorial published Monday,
March i1, the Democratic Philadelphia
Record said regarding the capitol ex-
tension bili: “There is hardly a doubt
that the house will concur in the ac-
tion of the senate. The state is rich
and can afford to be liberal, especially
if there is money of the taxpayers al-
ready on hand to cover more exigent
needs.”
The Philadelphia Public Ledger, in-
dependent in politics, said in an edi-
torial article published on Tuesday,
March 12: “The extension of Capitol
Park, as provided in the bill, which
has already passed the senate. is so
far from extravagance that it is really
a measure of economy. * * * [t
is sheer waste to erect a capitol build-
ing and have it encompassed by
squalor and desolation. The land be-
tween the capitol and the railroad
can stili be secured at a very moder-
ate cost, and its addition to the public
grounds ought not to be deferred until
its occupation by the growing industry
of Harrisburg shall make its acquisi-
tion still more urgent and much more
expensive. Philadelphia has had many
examples of large public improvements
of this kind too long deferred, as in
the failure to reserve sufficient space
ground the city hall. The legislature
will be greatly at fault if it refuses
the present opportunity to make a
really great city of that neglected cap:
tal of Pennsylvania. * © * Harris-
burg in its situation and surroundings
has the making of a most attractive
city. The state has done little or noth-
ing for it, treating it generally as a
mere railway station. The present
project is not for the benefit of the
residents alone, though it will be a
direct help and encouragement to them
in their own civic enterprise. It is
rather a duty to Pennsylvania. The
present legislature probably cannot re-
cover the money spent on the new
capitol, but it can do much to com-
pensate for the excessive expenditure
by providing such surroundings for
tho building as will make it in the
time to come a delight and pride to the
whole state.”
Not a few doubting legislators were
eonvinead of the propriety of voting
for Senator Fox's bill by an illustrated
lecture given by J. Horace McFarland
in the hall of the house of representa-
tives last Wednesday night.
By means of more than 100 lantern
slides’ Mr. McFarland showed how the
capitol at Washington and the capitols
of various states in the Union are sur-
rounded by beautiful grounds, afford-
ing fine views of those great struc-
tures. He also showed the squalid and
unattractive condition of the section
lying immediately back of Pennsylva-
nia’s new state capitol which it is pro-
posed to take and clear off.
Mr. McFarland further showed how
the city of Harrisburg proposes to give
for this great improvement streets of
the city amounting to more than nine
acres of land, or more than one-third
of all that it is proposed to utilize for
the enlargement of the park.
He also showed how within the last
five vears Harrisburg and its citizens
have spent many million dollars to im.
prove the city, in building a modern
sewer system, providing pure water,
many hundreds of acres of fine parks
and 40 miles of well-paved, clean
streets, of which the legislators, state
officials and employes who spend the
whole or a portion of the year here
have the same use as the citizens of
Harrisburg, the same use as though
the state had helped to pay for these
great improvements, which it has not