Bellefonte, Pa., January 22, 1809. THE COBBLER'S VISION. The cobbler sat in his basement room, Safe from the storm and eold ; But a wondious pity filled his breast As he turped iis eyes to behold The feet on the pavement passing by, The feet of the young and the old. All day he could see the skipping feet Of the children blithe and gay, Then ever in turn the bruised and lame Of those whose heads were gray, ‘And often the pitiful, crippled feet O'er the pavement halting stray. The cobbler thought he would do his part In making the old world glad, So hammer and pegs and leather and last He took, the best that he had, And sang as he fashioned day by day, Shoes for the poor and the sad. The yoars went by ! he was lonely oft, No kith oor kin had he ; Yet he toiled away, and hoped some day The feet of his Christ to see ; To kiss them, weary and wounded sore, Where the sharp nails used to be. Buta vision eame to him one night, When stars filled all the sky ; He could see the pavement coldly shine, Where at day the throngs went by. Now a glorious Presence walked alone, And he felt his Christ was nigh. Soon the low dark room was glorified, And the cobbler scarce could say, “] have watched for Thy pierced any weary feet Lo! many and many a dey ; O Christ! for Thy torn and bleeding feet,” And in grief he turned away. “Thou faithful one!” and the dear Christ touched The hands that were pale and thin, “[ have passed on the pavement day by day, And oft you have hailed me in, For the feet of those you have shod and blessed, The feet of your Lord have been." w[Ruth Cooper, in Michigan Christian Advocate. PHE DEFECTION OF SISTER TINLY. An unaccustomed drawing of the brows and the firm ses lips were the visible signe of she inward struggle as Amanda Tinly tied her black bonnes strings. It was Sun- day in April. Dressed in the somberbued olothes that she bad worn “‘for best” dor ing the last five of six years, Miss Tinly was about starting to church. *‘If only he wouldn’s parcel us ous in his prayers by our ages,’’ she whispered deprecatingly to she faded reflection of herself in the mir- ror, “‘as if the Lord couldn’t just as easy bless us all together! If only he wouldn’s!" The thoughs had been lying hall-forma- lated in Mies Tinly’s breast for swomonths —ever since the new minister had been sent to Mouus Horeb Church. Now tbat she bad given expression to it, the idea took an even stronger hold on her. “'O Lord,” she prayed in her heart, as she let herself out the front door, *'forgive me if I'm com- misting asin. I don’s want to sin. O Lord, help we to love my church—and— and the new minister!” Warm sunshine tooched the village houses through a sheen of pale green boughs. Miss Tiuly, walking to church, saw neither bud nor blossom in the pretty front yards that sloped to the flagged side- walk of Marion’s main street, #0 A passed door, walking rapidly down the brick walk thas led to tbe street. ‘I'd have e know [ ain't “tottering,” she to herself. *It Ido be sixty-one, I feel as as I did twenty years ago! Idon’s Sy ligan, There feminine circles of the Monnt Horeh Chasel shits week on account of Sister Tinly’s unaccountable withdrawing from the activities that she had formerly taken delight in. ‘‘Why, she’s been baking a cake for the church suppers for the last seventeen years regular !" said Mrs. Magee at the Dorcas Society. *'I don’s know what to make of ber refusing this time.” In she evening, after the prayer meeting, the Dorcas ladies drew together to confer about Sister Tinly’s strange behavior. Did anyone know il she bad cause for offense ? Somebody remembered that she badn’t missed a prayer meeting for twenty-two years, she would explain herself on Sanday ? n ¢ Sister Tinly did not ex- plain. was not at charch. . 4] don’s believe she’s siok,’’ said Mrs. Preston, a near neighbor who was ques- vioned. *'Isaw her sweeping her walk yesterday as usual. Bas I think there's something the matter with her, becanse when I talked to her about the church sup- per she didn't have a word to ray. Ini didn’s know for a fact that Sister Tinly is #0 dreadfully religions I'd shink—well, he I hadn't ought to say is.” *'You mean yon think she bas begun to backslide ?'? waid Mrs. Magee. “‘Meroy ! I hope it’s not that !"’ protested Mrs. H “But I remember she acted middlin’' indifferent Sanday a week ago when I was talking ahout the church.” Meanwhile Miss Tinlv kept her thoughts and plans to bersell. carefully considered. She was past the years when impulse dominates. getting any good at church,” she argued with her conscience. ‘‘Them prayers made me thiok living on was sort of an imperti- pence. It can’s be any person’s duty to go where they'll hear things said calc'lated to make them think their work in the world is dope.” For a few days Miss Tinly was uphorne by the excitement incident to what seemed to her a tragical event. isolation from whas had nourished her life. Then came the dull, painfal reaction. The hreaking of the strings of habits burt her, To bear the church bells ringiog on Sun- day morning, and not to be preparing to go out ! To know thas the Dorcas ladies were sewing for the poor, and talking about church matters as they sewed, and not to be present! Ou Wednesday night she would picture her own empty seat as the prayer meeting, wondering the while who were giviug testimonies, and what brothers and sisters were leading in prayer. Her daily tasks ceased so interest her, and the beautifnl spring days diagged on drearily. Sometimes she faltered. What would be the end of it? In putting herself “ons of she church’ was she not payiug a terrible price for her t? Avswering the doorbell on the Thursday afternoon on the second week after her withdrawal, she was confronted by the serious faces of Mrs. Hopps and Mrs. Ma- gee. She was not exactly unprepared for visitors from the church. Sbe bad reason for knowing that her conduct would be talked abouts. Inviting the ladies into the parlor, she seated herself a little distance from them, remarking io a strained un- nataral tone, “It’s a terrible nice after- dppres- sively conscious was she that ‘‘it was not | noon with ber as in times past.”’ As she neared the chuich, a stout, fussy woman, flushed and panting, caaght up with ber. “How fast you walk, Sister Tinly! A would 'most think you were a young girl!” “Ham! Good morning, Mrs, Hoppe.” “We missed yoo at the Home Mission meeting,’’ panted the stout woman as they walked ou. *'I hope yon weren’s sick?"’ “No, I'm not a band for being sick,’’ re- plied Mise Tinly, whose simple life had been ro free from perplexities that she bad pever learned the ars of equivoeation. “I never knew jou to wiss a mission meeting before?’ "**No, I guess [ never wissed one till last week.” “That's what [ told Mis. Boniface. I think we're awfully well suited in a mine ister;don’t you?" “Mr. Boniface is a real good preacher,’ admitted Miss Tinly without enthusiasm. “Good! Why, he's splendid! Everybody ex meetings as the two ladies entered. . “0, Lod,” she praved devout! Pit Im in the wrong, make it clear. 3 woman can’t bear!” Mr. Boniface was young and fluent and “flowery.”” Miss Tinly ses her lips firmly together a= she bowed her head for the long In gently sahdued and reverent tones the clergyman prayed for the schemes prosperity of the country. He asked divine blessing for the children of the Sanday school, comparing them poetically with she buds on the flow- prayer. of the church and the ering plants now opening to the sun. Very earnestly he prayed for “the youth in their He prayed for the “‘strong middle aged, bearing the heat and burden of the day,” that they might be “supported and endowed with wisdom for she responsible work thas they were oar- trying on.”’ And finally he prayed for ‘‘the suowy-haired, the feeble of step, three score aod more, tottering toward she brink of glorious spring time.”’ the dark river.” Miss Tinly’s face glowed red under the straight bande of her smooth, almost white hair as she raised her head and opened her hymu-book. Her voice broke as she sried le in front of to sing. From the way “ber held their heads to listen, she judged “that it was a good sermon, bust she bardly knew what is was ahous, “Sister Tioly, I'm coming round for one er cakes for she “ihe congregation filed down the aisles — know as I'll he baking this ed Sister Tinly ina con. of your nice chocolate gharch supper ?”’ smiled service, “1 don't week,” Mrs. Magee stared—a kindly, inquit “Ain't you well, Sister Traly ? flushivg in a Mount Horeb to take on new life!" e “new life’! was manifesting itself in the ohoreh vestibule where groups of “workers” were holding spirited informal Miss Tinly bad been active in church work since her youth; bat this morning, instead of joining any of the groups, she stepped into she half empty church and sat down in ber ve to do right. All my life I've wanted to he good. Bat there's some things mortal “Sistee Magee and me felt sure yon must be siok or something, Sister Tinly,’’ begav Mrs. Hoppe, taking no notice of the weath- er remark, ‘‘to we called rouad to see if you wanted anything?" “I ain’s sick.” said sister Tioly. *'I don’t know as I've been sick a-bed since I had ,»1yphoid—that's twenty-four years “The Lord has blessed yon with good health, Sister Tinly,” launched ont Mrs. Magee. ‘‘A—bem—hem—well, we called to atk what the tronble is, and why yon don’t come to charch, or to any of the meetings ? I'll he plain, aod tell you thas folks i« talking as if you ha? turned back- slider ! If yon bad been one of the irreg- alas it wonldo’t be noticed #0 much. But here you've heen a consistent profe-gor for forty-five years —never missing a Dorcas or a prayer meeting ora mission meeting, rain or shine ! Aud now $0 tarn careless at your age ! I declare I don’t know what to wake of is, Sister Tinly !"’ This was something like what Miss Tioly expected to hear. She took the rebuke aoflinchingly, asa brave animal bears a patter of hail. “You ooght to he on guard against Saaparion, Mandy, connseied Mrs. Hopps not withoot tenderness. I've heard as how him that ain't to be named makes the most deap'rate struggles to ensvare them who like yoo, are supposed to havea clear | track to the good piace. Be you troubled with doubts 2’ “I don’t know as I be,’’ answered Sister Tinly dryly. “I was siwaysa band for be- ing tolerable sure.” “Well, Sister Tinly," resumed Mrs, Magee, ‘‘seeme to me the best thing is for ue at Mount Horeb to pray for you; for I can see that you ain’s happy or satisfied. How conld you be after turnin’ yoor back on church privileges? Do you want asl should wention next prayer meeting night that one who isn’t clear about ber religions duty wishes the prayera—'" *‘No, it wouldn’s be true,” interrupted Sister Tinly. Sister Tinly was glad that she happened to be oat when one of the deacons called. Moant Horeb people, men as well as wom- en, were now fully awakened to the seri- ounsness of the case. That Sister Tinly bad retrograded aod become ‘‘worldly’’ was supported by she fact that she was bloom- ing out in a new gown and a hat trimmed with flowers. Somehow she learned the art of doing up ber hair, and the flat old- womanish bands of grey that had plastered her temples for years, now disappeared in favor of a fashionable pompadour. “She don’t look a day over forty-five!” said Mrs. Hoppe, telling Mrs. Magee about the transformation. thought Sister Tinly would come to this!” Mr. Boniface was inclined to regard Sis- ter Tinly’s lapse less seriously than some of bis parishioners. But having been spoken to a unmber of times abous is, be conclud- ed to pay the old woman a pastoral visit aud, if possible, win ber back. . That Sis- ter Tinly bad occupied so conspicuous a place as a church worker, with a record for regular attendance that bad no parallel, made ber defection appear almost in the : lighs of a scandal. In May the reverend gentleman had mov- ed five wiles out of Marion to a farm. It was his first experience of country life, and when he seated himself in the buggy, to which his hired wan bad hitched a recent- Her action bad heen’ “I wasn’s Is required heroic fortitude on her part to bear the sense of “Who'd ever have held the reins tight, thinking that the borse bad a notion of running uty. The horse seemed to resent the ap, bad less fear than he wight have had koown more abouts borses. e jerked the reins first one way, and then another, and said, **Who-a, Billy!" He bad read that the haman voice played an im- & part in the taming of avimals. Bat instead of feeling tamed, this partic- ular Billy took the bit in his teeth and started on a gallop. A backward kick en. tangled the horse's feet in the shafts, For- | ward went the hoggy on top of the fallen | horse. Mr. Boniface came to himself with a feeling that the life was getting crushed ous of him by 1,000 pounds of warm horse- flesh. He struggled and tried in vain to release bis legs, and wondered il the son overhead were really tarning crimson or if he were abont to lose couscionsuess again. He lay for some time trying to hear the terrible pain as patiently as possible while be listened for she sound of wheels on the road in the hope of getting rescued. If the horse should lurch over he feared that be wonld be crushed to death. Presently he realized that some one was near. The step was so light thas he had pos heard the approach. Looking np, he «aw 8 hat srimmed with red roses. He was not guick at remembering faces. “Good lands, pastoi!"” exclaimed the wearer of the hat. ‘‘Be yon hurt bad?” Miss Tioly, who had now considerable time on ber haods, was on her way to vim friends of her yoath living in the coon- try. As Pastor Boniface bad paid no atten- tion to the gosssp abous Sister Tinly’s pompadonr and fashionable clothes, he had nothing now to guide him except the qual- ity of voices which he directly associated with thas of the timidly spoken testimo- nies of Sister Tinly. ‘I'm in a tight place, Sister Tinly,” he said with a gasp. “I much longer.” With the touch of an expert Sister Tinly eanght a hold of the horse's leg and drew it ous of its entanglement. She was born and bred on a farm, and a knowledge of horses was a part of her education. She soon had Billy on his feet. With Sister Tinly Billy was as docile as if be had been a sheep. The minister was obliged to lean beavily on the wiry little woman as she helped him to rise. He was thankful to find that, thongh braised and sore, he had no bioken booes, “Set there on she grass, pastor, till I see what all's broke; ‘cause you can’s do any: thing all shook up the way you be,’ said Sister Tinly, and pastor, wondering what sort of stuff some females are made of, did as he was told. Miss Tioly bad a pair of new, strong scissors in the package of store goods that she was carrying as a present to ber friend. She used the scissors for cutting straps and boring holes in leather. Before long she bad Billy backed into the mended shafts, and wae fastening the harness buckles, The interval gave Mr. Booiface an oppor- tunity to collect bis thoughts. After this experience he felt that he would have to be carefnl how be broached the subject of Sister Tinly's defection. “‘GGuess you'd better let me drive you home, pastoi?’’ she suggested when she bad bandaged ove of Billy's knees that bad been skinned in the fall. “Thank yon. I'd beglad if yon would, Sister Tinle."’ The change of drivers bad its effect on Billy, who now trotted along like any well behaved borse. Aware that the time was passing, to know what success he had bad, Mr. Boniface gathered his scattered wits to- gether. ‘I was on my way to the village to see you, Sister Tinly,” he began. — ab—some of the brethren are afraid you are in some spiritual difficulty?” “I don’s know as I be, pastor,’’ slacken- ing the reins a little. “I'm glad to hearit.”” He smiled, per- ceiving that with the serious the comio was blended. He had been intent on reson- ing the son! of Sister Tinly, and Sister Tinly had rescued his body. ‘‘Maybe I was too touchy, pastor ; but nome things I juss couldn’t stand,” said Sister Tinly, appreciating that the minister felt somehow at a disadvantage. “Same things? What things 2" “Well, yon know, I ain's as yoong as I used to he. I hegan torning grey when bus tottering don’t. Tottering don’s.”’ “My dear Sister Tinly! e! Haven't you demonstrated as much today 2" Sister Tinly was late with her visiting ; bus she went home happier than she had heen for three months. The next Sunday she was in her place at church, her face wearing its old expression of calm content. With fewer words and more fervor Pas. tor Boniface prayed for hia people without olassilying them as formerly. to Mre. Hopps after the service. tian Advocate. At School in Canina. The Chinese hre very fond of learning, and there is a sohool for boys in nearly too poor to educate their sons. strong veices. wise-looking man, wearing immense cles, who sat beside a table on wh had hot water and tea, which he imbibed at intervale. The pupils sat upon high benches rnd over lessons for the day, which they noderstand until they were years older. sayings When Shey Sesited it was with backs tnrned toward the teach- er. This was called **backing the book.” We form all our words from twenty six letters, bat Chinese have a different mark for every word, of which there 40,000. Five thin paper dipped in ink. W the manhood his great ambition is government examinations and get a ‘‘de- free In this way he may and did some kicking. Mr. wish you were a man. I can’s stand iv and that his brethren wonld want Tosteriog ! won you are in the prime and fall vigor of h ‘Pastor Boniface geta more spiritnally- minded every day,” remarked Mrs. Magee “T wan sure Sister Tinly was growing into a bard- ened sinner. She'll be a jewel in pastor's srown.”’— By Jane Ellis Joy, in The Chris- every village, but only a few pupils in each. This is because many families are But the few whose fathers can pay the master are quite able to advertise the school by their The teacher of the old-time school was a be and over the did not ‘They studied reading, writing, and the of Confucius. cial pleasure and enjoyment. [Written especially for the WATCHMAN, — BY SAN- UEL W. BAKER. Taking s retrospective glance covering the period, 1869-1809, the time appears of some magnitude, to the rising genera- tion, yet from the milestone of the writer, and such of his age, we must say it passed along speedily and its escape can scarcely be realized. The mind naturally reverts to the boyhood days spent in the quaint village of Howard, sometimes vuigarly designated hy some of she elder population as “Striptown,”” where the canal with its almost hourly passing of the hoats, trans. porting she scant product of the swail farms, the mauufactured product of the iron ore wines, and the lumber taken from the then stately pine forests, returning io exchange therefore the varions commercial coromodities necessary to sustain the bomee, which, together with the old stage coach, reminds us of the only means we had of common carrier transportation. It is not intended to cass reflection on the agricultural acreage of the average Bald Eagle farm with its ten or fifteen acres of corn, every ear carefully housed in rat tight erib, the fodder shocked before frost and housed against the wintry blast. The carefully husbanded ten acres of wheat, oats or rye, the hall acre of pota- toes and ten acres of bay ; all under roof, sale from frost and storm ; the fattened hogs and heef—jass sufficient for bome con- sumption ; as compared with the sixty acres of corn, forty ncres of oats, ten or more acres of potatoes, forty acres of bay, with a car load of fat steers and two or more cars of hogs for the market ; not that wo regard the first, less, or the latter more. The comparison can be carried furtber, in that, while the Iowa farmer hoasts of his greater product per capita, his Pennsylva- pia brother carefally husbands, protects and economizes in the fruit of his labor. The nine feet square, rail pen, sometimes without floor or roof for corn, and the stalks left in the field to be burned up or plonghed under the followin: spring ; bay stacked on the bare ground, straw piled from the thresher iu the field where cot, aad left to rot down ; raw unprepared feed domped oun the ground, to cattle and hous, housed in open lots, calls for notice to be taken of the practices and economy ol the said eastern brother, and calls to mind the reference : “A little farm well tilled. A little house well filled, ete.” Looking back to the period covering the first eighteen years of our existence, we are 1eminded of the old “swimming hole” in the oreek, beyond “‘Sperings Lock,” where, when a six year old lad we learned to take the first stroke, under the gnidance of a grandfather, long known as the village 'Bquire, and where in the years following, daily in aeason, with the irrepressible “Town Boys,"'—Brickleye, Hogans, Knvolls, Cooks, Furey: and others, revel- ed in the waterdog sports. Ah, we never can forget the old “‘swimming hole!” the ramblings in “Butler's Woods,” the “Huokleberry’’ parties out in the ‘‘Ridg- es’’ and over in the ‘Gap,’ the skating on the listle narrow strip of ioe in the drawn off canal, and the coasting on ‘‘Packer’s Bridge Hill," call to mind the “Old Oak- en Bucket song, ‘‘How dear to my heart are the scenes of my ohildhood,’”” avd im- pelle us to eay, when gathered in our an- poal session of the Iowa Keystone club, “Dear Old Pennsylvania.’”’ Neither can the old school house be forgotten, where our first teacher, the late Rev. Mr. Beals, indelibly impressed on the young mind the forms of the characters known as the A. B. C's, and progressing under the gaid- ance of Miss Harding, Kate Lucas, and others, ‘‘down stairs ;’* later transferred “ap stairs’ among the “Big Boss,” where 1 | Sam Pletcher, McPheeters, Baker, Mufiley was thirty. Grey hair runs in var family ; aod others worried us on through the three R's; and twensy years later, did really have the privilege of saying with the au- thor of *‘Just twenty years ago,” “I've wandered to the village, Tom, And sat beneath the tree, Upon the school house playing ground Which sheltered you and me.” A sorrowful remembrance of the ‘‘Big Boys’ from ‘‘up stairs’’ is, that many of thems left their stndies to join the army, avd while a few returned, many were either brooght home in boxes or sleep in southern graves. The destruction of the canal by heavy floods hastened the completion of the B. E. V. R. R, which construction dragged along until about the close of the war, and as a result, the towns on the route took on a different life, and it is noticed that our two road village has rather outdistanced all others in the lower valley and can now boast of streets. The airival of the firet passenger tiain, like all such expectancies, made a red lester day for our burg, and as usual on all such occasions, attracted the entire population as well as crowds from the ** Ridge’ country, and it 18 safe to say that the town never bas experienced a hap- pier or more joyous occasion. The only incident that happened to mar the entire pleasure of the occasion, was an embarrass- ing accident to one of the “Big Girls" from ‘-up stairs,” and if the eye of she el. derly lady, as it is to he presumed she now is, catohes this article, she will recognize the reference. While the native Pennsylvanians are not $0 numerous with us as rome otber States boast of theirs, yet we can say the city and surrounding country can produce over a thoueand. Oar incorporated organization, the Keystone club, does not claim that number in its membership yet we are not a few. Our meetings, held twice a year, are well attended and are sources of much so- A hall is used for our winter gathering and one of the public parks for the summer time, and no Pennsylvanians ean feel otherwise than at home in our crowd and thoroughly en- joy themselves. Hon. A. B. Commins, our U.S. Senator, is its president, with the writer ita secretary. The recens death of Joseph W. Maffley removes from amoug us an early settler here and a former resident of Centre coun- ty. As the close of the wai, after service as adjutant of the 148th Regiment P.V., commanded by Col. James A. Beaver, be came here and established the Iowa Busi- ness College, forty-three years ago, and has been identified with business interests dor- ing this time. While residing at Howard he attended the public school there and later at Willinmeport Semivary, and up to the breaking oat of the Civil war engaged in teaching sohool in different parts of the Bald Eagle valley, among ctbers, his own High school in Howard. A brother of the writer's mother, he added to this relation- ship by marriage with Miss Mary Baker, a sister of his father aud a daughter of Jacob Baker. The aunouvcement of his death comes almost simultaveonsly with thas of two brothers, Sidney T. and James R., who were his cousins, all of whom passed their boyhood days attending she publie school in Howard, being known as among the **Big Boys’ ‘“‘up stairs.” By close attention to the columns of the WATCHMAN, the knowledge of the sorrow* ful fact exists, that very few of the ele- ment that made up the social energy of that lissle burg of filtyy years ago bave been able to resist the summons of the grim messenger, though there are still make. Nos beyond our school era, aud trans- planted, by stern necessity, to the work of an assistant in the office of the Cartins at Eagle Forge, the remaining and final three years of Pennsylvania life was passed. The wanofactare of iron by the firm of R.C. & J. Curtin was then at its zenith. Ore from the Nittany mines, smelted by the charcoal of their own production far- pished livelihood for a small army and their families. The B. E. V. R. R. just completed, Curtin Station, with Roland postoffice, were established with Hiram Baker as the first agent and postmaster, the name given the office in honor of the senior member of the iron manufacturing firm. Many pleasant reminiscences, that in the latter teens period of a life, might be noted, hut we pass with the thought that very few, perhaps, are now there who contributed to the basiness uotivity of 1867 —8and 9. The older residents of Centre county are not stiangers to those one time men of business—Constans, Rolavd, Joho, Austin and James Cartin—all gone—and ably assisted by the younger generation, Capt. Austin, General J. Irvin, and Har- ry R., the latter three whom we under stand to be yet among the living. August 31st, 1861, we said good bye to scenes and associates of early life, to find another abiding place on a portion of one of Iowa's fertile prairies, the hest agrienl- taral State in the Union. To be continued.) Sm s—— The Canadian Maple Sugar Camp. The maple leaf, our emblem dear, The maple leaf forever. God save our king and heaven bless The maple leaf forever ! So runs the rousing chorus in which Canadians from all pats of the great Do- minion delight to join. And indeed it is well thas the glory of the maple has been thus celebrated in verse, for the tree, with its massive truck and plenteous, graceful foliage, 18 a thing of beauty from the time of the nufoldisg of iw wrinkled, pinkish leaves, throngh the glorious period of ite green perfection during the summer months, to the day when the first faint frost of early autown paints it in such viv. id flame color and crimson and gold thas the hili tops seem ablaze. The farmers in the eastern pars of Cava- da have wore than a patriotic and aesthetio regard for the maple tree. It is moet beaun- siful in their eyes in the early spring or late winter when its bare trunk with its dennded limbs pierces the suow-covered ground, and when there is scarcely a hint of life under its rough, brown exterior. It is at this inhospitable season of tbe year, at the time when the farmer is feeling the finavcial strain of the long, unproductive winter, that the maple tree comes to his aid with a crop ef vintage or essence— there seems to be no word which exactly expresses the product of the maple—which he can speedily turn into no inconsiderable amount of cash. of the varions Canadian Provinces who car- ried it on under primitive and not over- cleanly conditions. It is even said of them that the greasy blankets which served for their night coverings frequently did duty next morning as straming cloths for the sap. avd certain it is shat their products had a specky appearance, a peculiar flavor quite foreign to she farmer's output of to- day. No great amount of capital is needed for carrying on the industry. A sugar camp built near the maple grove and equipped with a range, proper boilers avd pots are the essentials, and intelligent, patient work does the rest. Though the Indian, as an independent sugar maker, exists uo longer, it is interest- jug to note that every sugar camp of any pretensions bas at least one Indian belper who is neually known to bis employers by pame of “Peter Paul.” He it is mor auy white man, is pos- the seores of the rising of the sap as if by ivstinet, the ex- day and hour when the work of tapping s shonld begin. It is be also who prepares the “‘spiles’’ or hollow tubes of wood which when placed in the perfora- tions in the tranks serve to drain the trees of their life blood. For days, perhaps for weeks, before the sngar season us, Peter Panl watches tiy. On mild days he kuows, almost by the exercise of the sense of hearing it would seem, that the sap is sluggishly traveling upward, but he stol. idly bides his t4up autil there comes a sharp, cold night Which obecks the flow entirely. If this is suoceeded, as is often some sorvivors, whom we might note, who still live to recognize the allusions we For many years the maple sugar indns. try was in the bands of the Indian natives | f ! aud what it can by. from tree to tree, and bucketful after buok- etful is emptied into she hogshead where it may be beard swashing noisily abous. It may be that a single tree will feed a half dozen or more buokets at a time and such a veteran sap producer is indeed the pride of the grove and the delight of the sap-col- lector as he wakes bis rounds. When a safficient quantity of sap has been secared to warrans the first boiling the sledge is drawn to the door of the sugar camp avd the contents of the hogshead swice strained before being poured into the shallow boiler which occupies nearly the entire of the primitive range. Not- wil ing all the care that has been taken a so amount of grit, dust and wood fbre is found in the cloths through which the strainings have been made and presently, when the hot fire causes the sap to seethe uneasily io the boiler, still other impurities come to the surface and are re- moved by skimming spoons, Suddenly the uneasy movement ceases. A noxious vapor fills the air and if one could but peer heneath the dense cloud of steam tbat rises from the boiler, one would behold the brisk boiling of the sap. Again is sought the belp of Peter Paul, for he can continue to stir the sap long after a white man’s fingers are scalded to the quick by vhe penetratiog steam and his respiration choked by the rising vapor. Sometimes, despite his care, a geyser of sap will shoot high in the air and fall on the range top where its malodorous scorch- ing will be an acute cause of offense and will arouse a fear of that bete noire of the sugar maker—the scorching of the entire boiling. At last, alter long waiting and vigorous stirring, the sap slowly thickens uutil it reaches the maple honey or maple syrup stage. If this is the desired product the liquid is strained, cooled and pat away for hostling. It is of a delicate woodsy Te and is a delightful change from the heavy molasses which is usually served with the pancakes or flapjacks of which at ope time or another all good Canadians partake. It maple wax is the desired product a longer period of boiling is allowed and when the syrup becomes of a toffeeish con- sistency it is poured into miniature bark canoes (of Peter Paul's workmanship) and get in the snow to cool. The wi ie n toothsome sweet, something between guava jelly and glue in appearance and of the daintiness of the one as well as the adhesive qualities of the orher. To make maple sugar, a still longer boil- ing is required and as the range top is usu- ally well occupied by boilers of sap in the earlier stage of preparation a separate fire is made for the sugariog off. Here the thickened syrup slowly sim- mers until the stirrer perceives thas the grainy stage bas arrived. Then into molds of wany shapes—bearts, stars and dia- monds—is ladled the contents of the pos, and the sagar making is over. To show for his work the proprietor of the maple grove has an ariay of hotles of amber honey, nuweious barks of mapie wax, and quantities of mois of maple sugar, all of which command a ready sale. Where proper care is given the young trees there is no need for a =agar grove to ‘run ont’’ or hecome anprodaotive, Ib is what is colloquially called *'a sure thing’’ to its owner, a delight to his family and to all who partake of its toothsome froits,and the pride of even Peter Pan!, who despite his taciturn ways, has vet his own stirring of loyalty aod patriotism and doubtless his own interpretation of the words, when his eara are gladdened by the rousing song whose melodious refrain is ‘The maple leat torever.”’—By Mrs. C. F. Fraser, in the Christian Advocate. Dr. R V. Pierce, author of the People’s Common Sense Medical Adviser, offers this valuable work ae a gift to those who will pay the expense of mailing. This greas medical work contains 1008 pages, and over 700 illustrations, and is full of the common sense of a wide medical experience. It answers the wnnspoken questions of young men and maidens. It meets the emergen- cies of the family with plain practical ad- vice. It is a hook for every man and every woman to read and keep at hand for refer- ence. Its medical information alone jay save many a costly doctor's hill. This hoo! will be sent to you free on receipt of stamps to defray expense of mailing only. Send 21 one cent stamps for paper covered book, or 31 stamps for cloth hound. Address Dr. & V. Piece, 663 Main Street, Buffalo, N. Here and there will be found a woman who has never heen troubled by the femi- nine disorders which vex so many of ber sex. She lives a happy, healthy life, and brings healthy children into the world with hardly a pang. Every such woman proves what woman's health ought to be If many women suffer itis because many women peglect the draine, inflammations and weakovess which wnrely undermine the strength, make life a burden and motherhood a sorrow. For all «noch women there is help and bealing in Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription. The use of this remedy results in the perfect healing of the diseases which affect the delicate organs, It imparts to them vigor and vitality, and makes motherhood a joy unailoyed by pain. Yon must have a foundation before you can build a house. You must have a foun- dation before you can build up your health. The foundation of health is pare blood. To try to build health by ‘“‘doctoring’ for symptoms of disease is like trying to build a house by beginning at the chimney. Begin at the foundation. Make your blood pure and you will find that, “heart troub- le,”” “liver trouble’ and kindred ailments disappear when the are eliminated from the blood. The sovereign blood puri- fying remedy is Dr. Pierce’s Golden Med- ical Discovery. It has cured diseases pro- nounced incurable by physicians. It bas restored health to who bav e ahso- lutely despaired of recovery. ——8o you sold that miserable old male of yours!"’ “Yassir,”” replied Mr. Erastus Pinkley; “Joh real money.” “Doesn't it weigh on your conscience?’ “Well, boss, I’se done bad dat mule on my mind so long it's kind of a relief to the case, by an unusually warm day, there | change off an’ git "im on my conscience.”
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers