BE THE THO CANDIDATES FOR JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT live, red thing in the midst of is. He did 3 not resent it, Is just seemed strange to bin: thas the mill sbould he running on shat parsioular day. He wished there | was duriog those years that she neighbors So ————— h a bard ) | i 380 tha did wns he provisions Bellefonte, October 29, 1909, his going right was on | she houghs. Sometimes they met her alone |B re eee Zl Ft dont Paw : gl Wa her band. | on the meadow Shines HEY uae One man : Io the buggy hebind, Marie the daugh- | wens even =o far as lo say she had been ser rode with her lover. It was Mary ber | carrying & dinner pall when he saw her. — self who changed the name to Marie. She Bat thas was plainly quite ndioulous. Now 1s it worth while that we jostle a brother had bogged Jobn till be nearly choked for she bad no one lefs to carry dinners to. Bearing bis load on the rough road of life’ | insisting thas the baby be oalied after her. | Then some one else said ber head was not 1s it worth while that we jeor at each other Sbe wanted the children to be different | right, and they came to carry her away lo In biuckness of heart?—that we war to the | from ber and John. She wanted them $0 | the hospital. The hospital is only a polite = Br, Toh dr Te | a MES TU e. n the honse on she river of ca ows 3 ib wae vd pity gn 415 our sifgfal suit tle girl Marie ”% Weans to take the Blue-Calico Lady. For || God pity us all ax we jostle each other; In » logging town the destinies of all the | her own good, of course. That was what God pardon us all for the triumphs we feel | young yirls are she same : they marry men | the wise ones said : it was only for her own When & fellow goes dows; poor, heart-broken | who work in the mill avd bear sons to suc- | good. brother, oeed their fathers in the work. Everywhere you go in the logging town, Pierced to the heart; words are keener than | Marie married a sturdy young fellow [even ilit is to ohursh fo be married or wee! And mightier, far, for woe and for weal, Were it not well in this brief litle journey On over the isthmus, down into the tide, We give him a fish instead of a serpent, Ere folding the hands to be and abide For ever and aye, in dust at is side? whe made foor dollars a day filing the saws. Just before her baby was bora they i her husband home horribly man- The bahy was born dead. It isa com- mon thing in mill towns. Alter a year or so, Marie lefs th#m all to go and find ber little baby; aud her husband, a fragment of 8 wan, plunged deeper into the simber- belt, and they loss track of him. All this time Jobn wens to work when the six o'clock whistle blew in the even- ing, and came back home through the mea- dow, his empty dioner pail on his arm, when the larks were singing in the moro- ing. For Joba was one of the nofortunate mill-hande who work on the night shils. There was still one son . He was Mary's baby. Rob, too, bad a night shift. With al! the trouble, Mary was a very bap: py litsle woman in those days, singing at ber work and proud to the verge of conceit of her “men folks.” buried, you must pass the mill. passed it this time ina oarrisge wi bandsome young doctor as ber side. She called him John sometimes, and 4 Look ai the roses saluting each other; Look st the herds all at pesce on the plain— Man, and man only, makes war on his brother, And dotes in his heart on his peril and pain— Shamed by the brutes that go down on the plain, man son. All the way she sat very quiet—all along the way up the meadow road where the timothy grew ae high as a man’s head ; hut when they orossed the bridge and rode into the shadow of she big smoke-stack, the crazy woman in the carriage 8 to her feet. The doctor tried to hold ber, but she was out and dashing back down the road they bad come before he could drawa thoughtful breath. Through the tall grass the old woman ran, sornetimes crouching down breathless for a minute at some sound on the road, until fioally she reached her home. It was ~Joaquin Miller, THE BLUE-CALICO LADY, The town in this generation did not know mush abou: her. She lived two miles down the river from the red mill, — in thas down all distances are reckoned CE from the mill,—and in a house so old that the unhewn logs were quite gray with moss. It was the children who gave her the name, “4he Blae-Calico Lady.” They saw her only when she came to town with a big market-baskes. She always wore a dress of ‘‘Datob blae’’ ealico, with listle white flowers. The skirt was short and very full; the gathers were not all huddled together in the back, as is she wont of gathers in these days : they were evenly distributed all around. The skirt bulged a little on one side where her ef was. Sometimes the young olerk in the com- p’ny store—the one who wae she first in sown to sing ‘Sweet Marie,” and also the first to wear a ring on his neok-soarf— sometimes be laughed aud made funny es when the Blue Calico Lady left store with her haskes of grooeries. “Well,” he would say, ‘‘if shas don't beats the Dusoh ! Where in the dickens Aoen she stow them things away? Two packages of coffee, three dozen eggs, quar- ser’s worth of sugar, and a can of baking powder. Say, that voong olothes-baskes she loge around is plumb foll. Lives ali alone somewhere down the river, they say; not even a oat to belp eat up them vio- smale. And, by Jiminy ! she’s back every Priday for another lay-out.” He smoothed his hair with one haod and took the ponnd. weight off the scale with the other, No ove seemed to he paying soy attention to him, so he finished to bimsedf: *‘And I bet a ten-cent bill she don’t weigh over seventy poands.and she's on the shady side of sixty, if she's a day old. Where in Sam Hill does she stow away all shat grab ?”’ Bat the Blue Calico Lady didn’t care a mite what he said. She was walking slow- ly home with the hasket on her arm. It was heavy. Often she set it down and rested. Sometimes she picked a wild rose that hnug over the fence, and tuoked it in the front of her dress, and seemed much pleased. Sometimes she talked to herself — a rambling sort of talk that no one could possibly understand; hat it seemed to please her mightily. She would smile and bow in answer to her own remarks. She had not always heen called the Blue: Calico Lady. Once some one bad called her “dear Mary.’’ That was 10 avother saw-mill sown like this; only that one was in Wis oonsin. The some one was Jobn. John liad the saw-mill blood. His grand- father wae head sawyer in the fires mill in she Green Bay Country. Joho's father stuck by the same mill until the timber waa all cut in the surrounding country and the mill shot down; shen they had gone north into the heavier woods up toward the Canadian horder. The saw-mill day is ten honors long, and after John’s head-sawyer grandiasher, the okill seemed to die ous of the family. John and bis brothers piled shiok, green boards, with sap, at ten shilhngs a day. A ling in the vernacnlar of the mill sown is twelve and a hall cents. After a short time John and she were married. About the time the second baby came there was a strike as the mill. Jobn did pos noderstand just what it was all aboat, but the yard foreman, who was his bose, told him to quit work; so be did. It is she inatinot of blind obedience that ove whose fathers and grandfathers before him worked in the saw-mill or in the lomber yard always obeys. They migrated further west, leaving Wisconsin behind them, and settling in another eaw-mill town west of Duluth. The “'Gopber State Bauner,”” published -weekly at the connty seat, showed in ite fearless illostrated editoviale the members of the company thas owned this particular mill bedecked with horns and tails. Bat she ‘‘Banner’” man had bis eye on the leg- islatare, and wae to a bis. In reality she of the heartless oor- chiefly toan Irishman | they poration helonged who had no more education 8! an John, who worshipped his one ohild as John did his three, aud who ate boiled ca with a knife. When he found himself rich, the heartless one moved back with a bappy wigh to the Connemara in Ss. Paul's back yard. Hed his son into an ex- pensive college by the hair of the head, and sported with disgust when that young man bolted to take the medical course at the State university. The rich man in the Con- nemara patch wanted hisson to bea gen- sleman, not a dootor. Although they never met, although the mill-owner bad pever heard of the Blue- Calico Lady, the lines of their lives were ssrangely tangled together. Mary's eldest boy stood with a cant-hook at the boitom of the skid and the Ings from the jam in the water as his leet on to the sharp-toothed climbing-obain. Oue day a log became loosened when ball. way up to the saw, and Mary's eldest boy was killed. Some women give up their sone to die for their country ; Mary gave | a regret meeting. Other women sent with their men cold dinners; not so Mary. No dinner can went with John or Rob of an evening. Sbe oar- ried the good things bot snd steaming to them every night just in time for the ball- hour rest at midnight. Every evening when they kiesed her and trudged off together as the call of the first whistle, she trimmed the lamp, and sas in the big chair where she bad rocked ber three to sleep when they were babies; and she read novels. I should be ashamed to teil you what awfally trashy yellow novels she read. At eleven she put the book away and wens out into the ‘‘lean-t0’’ they used for a summer kitchen. From a shelf she took two shining dinner pails. din- ners in pails was a eoience with Mary. Toto tbe bottom of the can she poured ooflee, very strong and very black. John liked it that way ; is kept him awake when the beat and the song of the saws would lull one into dangerous stupor. Then she put in the top can, and filled it with slicer of bot roass swimming in brown gravy and potatoes bursting their jackets, and bread and hatter, and a quarter of a lemon pie. Around in the chinks she stofied pickies and a pinch of salt in a scrap of paper, and three hard-boiled eggs. Then she put the upper story of the pa‘l in ita place. On the top of every balf dollar dinner can is a tin cup that fastens down tight ; the theory is that it is from this the owner drinks his coffee. No mill-band ever did such an absurd thing. He lifts the can high up over his head and drinks from that. Is is into this cap that she ‘‘sauce’’ goes. Mmy was yoy particular about John's ‘‘sances,’”” On Monday she gave him stewed prunes. When the ohildien were little they always had prune sauce on Sunday asa epecial treas, and she would save out a dish, Oo Tuesday it was dried peaches. On Wednesday, dried apples, then for the remaining three days she re- peated the program, Up the pleasant meadow road she trudged every night, sniffing with the pure enjoyment of a conntry woman the breeze from the peppermint aod the wild peas that tangled about she timothy stalks, Out of she sweet, still dark of the sam- wer night she went into the heat and glare of the thousand electric lights ahouns the mili. Theu she spread the lunches on a broad pine stump and waited for the midnight whistle and her men folks. It was very olean all around that stomp. In a lumber pile near by she bad hidden a frazzled broom ; after she picked up every oramb left over from she lunches and packed the remnants into she two pails to take home to her hens, she would some- times brush over the sawdust with the broom. Rob always made fun of that brgom, and said mother was playing *° house,’ sod then he would pull oat little curls trom under ber honnes-rim and Kiss ber and tease her, so she would have to call for help to John, who all the time would be leaning back against the stomp and smok- ing bis pipe in solid comfort. It was the time of the trouble in the Ceear d’Alene district. Men in Minnesota who sawed up trees talked hot and fast of men in Idaho who dug up gold. The “Banner” came out with graphic word. pictures of the Bull Pens. The air was charged with the electricity that one feels before a storm. When Soe morn Analy broke, men and women og shouts the comp’ny store danced and shouted and tossed listle obil- | found her. He did pot wake ber, bat dren into the air. A few dull women like | burried away and broagh cause the mill ‘shut doawn . men folks would be worried. “Why, it ’s the Blue-Calico Lady!’ the For of all the misfortunes that can come | foreman whispered. “Ain’s that queer? to the mill town, that isthe worst. When | Why, my wife said they took her— are sane, men with families will watchman nodded understandiog- blanche with fear if even the word goes |1¥- round, “The mill's goin’ to shut doawn.”’ Through the mill comes to them life—and When the strike was formally declared “on,” long-haired men with dirty collars | He looked important. He who popped up from no one knew where ble. barangued the crowd with the greasy elo- quence of patent-medicide fakire. A few men went back to work. The mob taught the children so call “‘Seab! Seapie at these few when they appeared town. Then there came from St. Paul, via the | W ‘‘Banner,'’ rumors that the militia was to he called out. That night the strikers held as one might rou who had forgotten for a time and suddenly remembered. She bad put up those dinners for filty years ; she could have dope it in her sleep. She took the two cans down from the shelf avd divided each into the three com- partments, These she laid oo the kitchen table. From the smoky oo on the stove she poured the coffee. hen the sogar was stirred in she tasted it, wrinkled ber forebead shoughtlully, avd put in another spoonlal, Then with her withered, old, brown bands she laid in the same good thing» she bad pas in on the other days. She did nos forges even the pinch of sals. She put in she spoon, too ; it made John awlally oross for her to forges ibe . She went to the boiler, and from its depths brought up a chocolate cake. She cus three slices, and put them in the pail. She pinned her shaw] down tight ander her chin, and to. k a dioner pail on each arm. She was taking dinner to her men folkx. Is wae night now. Io the long, waving grass a mother bird woke and twittered foolishly, but mostly it was quiet, except for the mill. It was nearly two miles away, but even bere is filled the night. It seemed os though one could not get away [rom it. As the bridge the old woman laid down tbe dinner pails. She took from ber pook- et a bit of looking-glase and a comb. She moistened her fingers and curled the stray locks abouts her face. The listle damp ourls were very white, bus they were also very fine—almost as fine as the silk on the corn. She rubbed ber face with her Sun- day bandkerohief ; with the second best one she dosted her shoes. She bad always stopped as she bridge to tidy np a bis for her men folks. Is wes her collection of toilet-artioles that made her pookes bulge. All the time she smiled and nodded pleasantly at the face in the glass. Then the moon went hehind a clond, and is was all black except where the mill furnace threw out into the dark little spurts of blood-red flame. She weus right to the foot of the skid- way. The skid does not run at night. No one saw her at first. Oo the familiar pine stump that bad served the three—once the four—as a table for their midnight feasts during the years, long past she laid the napkin aod spread out tke lunch. Of course in time they found her. She had fallen asleep waiting for ber men folks. Sbe sat down on the saw-dusty grouod, ber face, brown aud weather-stained, outlined in the moonlight agaiust the white of the napkin. She did not look like a orazy woman. She looked like a child who bad eaid early in the evening, ‘‘I will awake till they come’ ; and who bad fall. a9 an she said is, The olerk at the comp’ny’s store bad wondered what became of the groceries she little lady bought. . His onriosity might bave been satisfied had be been at band then when there sal- lied forth from the green water-soaked rp of the mill Sadedasio, a halve a dozen ‘‘pack rats, surprisingly plump. For everrbody knows it is better to he even the proverbial church mouse than the Minnesota mill ras. The exact moment of their venturing forth marked the upon a blue calico breast of a sired white head. It is true that the strike had been called | - ‘It's my mother,” he said by the local union officials, serious-faced | & fine night, we were going to have a little men in whose hearts she inherent rever- | pionio. She brought the She was ence for the law was constantly at war | waiting for me. with sheir oaths to do the will of the men | The constable stamped bis foot. It was who worked day by day at their mdes in such a tremendous foot, one t the mill. But in twonsy-four hours the | earth must shake when he stamped power was swept from them into the bands | “No, siree Bob; you don’t work avy of the demagognes by a tidal wave of pub- such oon game as on yours truly. That lio feeling. party 's wanted right now by two fellows So the . the hotel. They come from Roches- direly into their own hands, and before fetoh her.” ar © meesi Some one to ear: pointed to you—gou 3 ioe are. You 've bit That night they made a your own head. You just better shut it, blowing off she ain’s never done you dirs like you and trying to do her. , that 's the men were man's son. He ean you good and who had plenty ’f you get gay "round him." who was her baby. Just then the sabject of the discussion CYRUS LARUE MUNSON, ESQ. OF WILLIAMSPORT. Nominee of the Democratic Party, the non-partisan movement. supported by I ROBERT VON MOSCHZISKER OF PHILADELPHIA. Nominated by the Republican Party at the dic- tation of Philadelphia bosses. awoke and took matters into her own bands. She seemed to notice none of them but the doctor. She smiled very prettily just as though she ex him. ““Rob,"” she said, ‘‘there wa’ n't no pie, but I baked s layer cake. Ye made me wait a long time to-night, Rob,” she rcold- ed him lovingly. Right before them all be said it,—they tell about it even now, —right oat lond so they all could hear: “‘Little swees-heart mother,’ he said. One by one the men, with pozzied faces, went away, taking with them the impor: sans one with the big feet, and leaving the young man and the old woman alone. The dootor spread his coat for her to sit on; than be began with the appetiteofa .. ,oiive in she solution of the great conntry boy on the biggest slice of hread and buster. Is was midnight, and for half an hear the mill would be qaiet while the men ate. Aoross the river, in the swamps, frogs took advantage of the silence; from the lumber les came odors of pitch pine; sometimes rom the meadow there blew io a sweet breath of growing things. The river ian with gold in the moonlight. Aod on the hank in the shadow of the mill the little Blue Calico Lady nrged her son to eat the third piece of chocolate cake, just as she had done during uncounted happy nights hefore.—Bv Florence Moloso Riis, in The Century Magazine. Von Moschzlskers Backers. The staid Philadelphia Record calls the Contractors’ Combine, which forced the Von Moschzisker nomination in the Re- publican convention, ‘‘she bauditti,” and goes on to speak of ‘‘the rule of the most flagitions combination that every plunder- ed a great city in the name of a great polit- ical party; ‘‘the shameless maintenance of the infamous spoils system, in defiance of the Civil Service laws, which the Re- publican party bas enacted for the manio- ipel government of Philadelphia; of the levy of blackmsil upon police men and firemen, and of the uoscrupulous perver- sion of the police power to shield oriminal supporters of the banditti ae well as to bulldoze honest cieizens 1iho dare to op- pose their schemes of municipal plonder;"” tig the obicanery by which iarge muniei- pal contracts are manipulated in favor of the brace of political bosses at the cost of hou est bidders and of the city treasurer.” In an atmosphere such as is here delinated, grew up Robert Von Mosobzisker, who was an aolive worker in the cause of the banditti, and to whose favor he owes every political advancement made by him. Could he, if he would, throw off the shackles of the habite of a liletime, acquir- ed in the service of a corrupt ramcbioe, whose systematic corruption of elections is infamous beyond the power of words? By these people was Von Mosohzisker nominat- ed, aud by them his election is sought. \ What His Neighbors Say. The Williamsport Merchant's Associa- tion, in endorsiog the candidacy of ite townsman, Mr. Cyrus LaRue Munson, for Justioe of the Supreme Cours, urges upon the merchants of the State the importance of electing Mr. Mnueou, and eays: “We know Mr. Munson as a splendid lawyer, whose thirty years of practice has given bim a wide sxpstienss in the jaw and a varied practice the Courts of our own and neighboring States and those le nani 0 i aint oo man on t of rl the city's must successful astrial ts, suploying large pumbers of men; as an employer of labor, Mr. Monson’s influence and action have heen on the side of equitable adjustment of the matters at issue, whereby he bas Jessonsily prevented several strikes or which would bave been costly merchants; as one of the foremost our olty ready and willing as all to do his full financial £ ii mittee pleasnre to thus testify to the sterl- ing oharacter and worth of Cyrus LaRue Munson and to tender him our support. The Jasticeship of onr Saopreme onurt must go either to Robert Von Mosohzisker, a man whose early and later affiliations bave been with the notorious Philadelphia Contractors Combine, or to Cyrus LaRue Munson, of Williamsport, a gentleman of scholarship and calture, a lawyer of wide and snccessful experience at the har, a bus: iness man actively engaged in the manage- mens of large labor employing industrial establishments, and a public spirited oiti- moral and civic questions that must be met and solved. A vote for Mr. Monson will be a vote for a competent lawyer, a trained business man, and a good citizen. To vote lor Cyrus LaRae Munson, of Williameport, or for Robert Von Mosch- zisker, of Philadelphia, is your only choice on election day for Justioe of the Supreme court : which shall it be ? The one, a hoy, hustling lawyer and man of affairs, keenly interested in the questions of the day, nominated without solicitation and in hie absence, who will come to the bench of our highest court, if elected, untramelled by promise, interest or faction ; the other, a man trained in the Philadelphia school of politics, who has come up through the pul that goes with those in the favor of the ma- chine, whose nomination was unforecasted and unsuspected by a majority of the del egates assembled ip convention a few hours before it was announced as the ‘‘slate.” One who has had no great experience in the great business world, from which a major- ity of the issues thas come before that cour! are recruited, and one whose every aot must necessarily be tinged with the bias that comes from representing a party, in- terest or clique, and not the general good. The triends of Cyrus LaRue Munson, the Demooratio, non-partisan osodidate for Justice of the Supreme court, are most sanguine of his election on November 2Zud. From all parts of the State comes the ‘‘good word’’ that she people are aroused over this matter of electing a Justice of the So- preme court, and propose to be heard in their own defence on election day. The people may be patient and loog suffering in matters political, but ever comes the last straw; and, if the indications are to be believed, the people are again ready to re- buke those who would make a pack horse of them, and November 20d will see anoth- er political whirlwind scattering the well. Inid plaus of those who would be masters of the political fortunes of the Common. wealth. Toe Berry campaign of "05, promises to be repeated in this year ol grace, by tbe election of Cyrns LaRue Munson, of Ly- coming, over Robert Von Moschszisker, of Philadelphia. The one is the free-will nominee of his party, and comes uopledged and unbiased; the other is a nominee of boss dictation, and comes with all of the implied pledges that go with boss domina- tion, and biased by a life-long training in the rank of the workers of an unscrupulous machine, to whioh he owes his every ad- vancement. A vote for Mr. Munson will be a vote to save our Supreme court from further boss desecration. When the Republicanfconvention turned down that distinguished jarist, Chiel Jus tice Rice, of the Superior court, who was unquestionably the oboioe of a majority of the members of the bar of the State and of the great mass of voters, and nominated Robert Von Moschsisker, a Philadelphia gang-trained judge, the eyes of the people should have opened to the iniquity of the —- a nomination of she unknown one could be for but the one purpose—and that not the interest of the people. [te thie way: Il the ticket nominated by the Philadelphia Contractors Combine is elected this fall, without 100 close a shave,’ the ticket nominated next year will he of their own sweet choosing; and there will be no Stoarte, Youngsor Sheatz’'s on is, either. If Von Moscbzisker, Stoher and Sisson, or any of them, should he defeated, then we may expect better things from them iu the way of nomioations, This was true alter the defeat of Plommer in 1905, resulting in the election of the present Governor, State Treasurer, and Awnditor General, men hardly to he classed as the voluntary selection of the same men who forced the nomination of Von Mosohzisker, The election of Cyrus LaRue Manson for Justice of she Sapreme cours will bea stars toward bettering the nominations to be made next year for the important office of Governor, The committee of veven leading lawyers of the Lycoming County Bar Association, who were appointed hy their fellow mem- bers to assist in the candidacy of Mr. Cyrus LaRae Manson for Justice of the Supreme court, are in earnest in sheir non-partisan efforte to elect him, ray: We bholieve that the character and abili- ties of C. LaRne Manson, together with she fact that hie nomination was entirely voluntary and without any dictation, en- title him to the votes of the people of Pennsylvania. Nominated when abroad, without solici- tation or promise on his pars, Cyrus RaRue Munson, if elected, will take his seat upon the bench of the Supreme court, unhamp- ered by promise or obligation,and unbiased by any interest. Is will be bis privilege to pass judgment upon the facts and the law. A vose for him will be a vote for your own interests. May we ask who are supporting Cyrus LaRoe Munson for Justice of the Supreme court,and we answer: Many if not the moss of the lawyers of the State,who know both candidates, large numbers il not a majority of our people, who believe that the election of Justice of the Supreme court is nota perquisite of the machine, who nominated ite own man, and thas, too, in the face of a stiong sentiment thronghout the State in favor of a juries of the highest character and long public service. We divulge no secret when we say that the friends of Mr. Muneon throughout the State have a firm belief that his election is not only possible but more than probable. Why not join the prooession for good government and a non-partisan Supreme court by voting for Cyrus LaRue Munson? Pray, who brought the election of a Su- preme cours Justioe into politics? Nos Mr. Munson, whose nomination came unsoughst, aod whose campaign, so far as he personal- ly is concerned, was taken over by the Non- partisan Committee of the Lycoming Coun- ty Bar Association, who have conducted a dignified campaign for their fellow towne- man upon purely noo partisan lines. On the other band, may we ask, how was the nomination of Von Mosohsisker procured? Who is asking you to support Von Mosoh- sisker for Justice of the Supreme court on the ground that Senator Penrose was in- stramental in raising the duty on hosiery, question of the election of a Justice of the Supreme oourt into politics? What the friends of Mr. Munson have done, we bave situation, and they should see that the
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers