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