Bellefonte, Pa., January 14, 1910. WHENCE COMES OUR BREAD. 1 stood by the farmer's wheat bin, And toyed with the amber grain; And the handful of kernels lifted, Through my fingers fell like rain. And it seemed that a fairy whisper Was borne to my listening ear, And this is the beautiful story, 1 lowered my head to hear: “Behold, "tis the life of the people, The food, the strength and power, “That falls through your listless fingers, While spending an idle hour. And little heed you. nor any, Of how you are strong and warm, “That your blood is red and strifty With life from an humble farm “All day, through the sultry August. The toiler guides his plow: Each furrow is blessed and watered By the sweat from his reeking brow. And thus is the wheat ground mellowed, And thus prepared for the seeds, With plow, and harrow, and roller, While the sweat falls down in beads. “And when, wi*h sowing completed, He watches the seasons go, Till spring, with its rain and sunshine, Has softened the covering snow, Waits, waits till the glowing summer Develops a field of wheat, And crystalizes the sweat drops, For you and all to eat. “Then with reaping and threshing, All through the summer's heat, The water that blessed the furrow Must flow till the work's complete. Remember the drops which the toiler Has brushed from his wearied brow, Are here, in the teeming wheat bin, To nourish a nation now." ~[rene Bailey. THE OLD MAIDS. It wasn't that old maids were rare in our village. Single ladies of a certain age, who scorned matrimony and were thankful that they were not burdened with husbands and household cares, were plentiful—almost as plentiful as sea cap- tains. The widow Cummings's “select board- ing-house" was full of them. Miss Har- riet Beaslep, who presided over the La- dies’ Circulating Library, boarded there; so did Miss Olivia Simpson, the school teacher, and Miss Jane Berry, local lead- er of the Women's Rights movement, and several more dignified and precise spin- sters. Conversation at the Cummings ta- ble was conducted on a highly literary and learned plane. It is recorded of Zo- eth Labrick, the sexton, one of the few males who “took meals” at the widow's, that, after his first fortnight of select boarding, he drifted into Dr. Hallett's of- fice and asked the doctor if the latter had “ary book about the house that was wrote by Mike L. Angelo, one of them Eyetal ians.” “You see, doc,” said Zoeth, “Hattie Beasley and the rest have been talkin’ about this Angelo critter meal-times till you can't rest. Asked me what I consid- ered the chief beauty of his ‘moses.’ And when I says: ‘Moses who?’ they giggled. Makes a feller feel like a born fool.” Abitha Doane, the milliner, was a spin- ster; so was Caroline Pepper, the dress. maker, who lived with her. Caroline | looked the part, too, and wore jet ear-| rings anda tan-colored ‘false front.” Eith- er her head had grown or the “iront” | had shrunk, for the tan area only extend. ed to the tops of her ears and her own | gray hair stuck out around the edges like trimming. Miss Pepper was an old maid to the fullest extent of the popular mean- ing of the term, but when the people of our village mentioned “the old maids" they were not speaking of her and Abi- tha, nor of the boarders ot the Cumimings- es.’ They referred to “Pashy and Hul- dy” Baker. “Pashy and Huldy" were the maids. ‘The house where the old maids lived was on the Neck Road, beyond the grove known locally as “Elkanah’s Pines," and near the swamp where the feather-grass grew and the spring bubbled up in the sunken barrel. It was a big, square old house, standing a good way back from the sidewalk, with high plastered chim- neys, the plaster had peeled offi in spots so that the red bricks showed, and it had a massive front door with pillars at each! novelty and the cemetery itself grew to be as tiresome as grandma's sermons, the the walks there and back were delightful. You turned in at Cap'n Roger's side gate, | through went down the pasture, by the “peat hole" where the turtles were sun- ning themselves on the stumps, and climbed the hill on the side. | This hill in winter was the most danger- | ous, and consequently the most fascinat- ing, coast in town, but now it was a dai- sy-starred lookout from which you might see for three land miles and fifteen wa- tery ones. Directly beneath you were clumps of huckleberry bushes and scrub oaks, with the path winding through them between the cranberry swamps; be- ond was the dusty yellow ribbon of the eck Road, bordered with gray rail fenc- es or mossy stone walls, with an occasion- al house, barn, and chicken yard scatter- ed along it; “Elkanah’s Pines” made a velvety green blotch, and the white stones of the cemetery shone in the sun; back of all was the blue bay a-dance in the wind, with the distant buff sand dunes of the Trumet shore notching the sky-line. From the hill the old maids’ house was uous. Four-squared, solid, and aristocratic, in its day far the most pretentious dwelling on the Neck Road, it seemed to be holding itseif aloof from the common herd, and, secluded behind the two great elms at each side of its door. to be viewing the village with dig- nified toleration. At this distance one could not see the broken plastér of the chimneys, the lack of paint, the rong shingles, the fences leaning this way that. From the hill it a eminent- ly genteel; near at hand the shabbiness of the gentility forced itself upon you. The foot of this hill, near the plank bridge over the cranberry ditch, was the spot where you and grandma were most likely to meet the old maids. You had caught glimpses of them through the huckleberry bushes as you came down the slope. The swamp honeysuckles grew thick about the little bridge and perhaps that is why you never think of “Pashy and Huldy” without seeming to sniff the perfume of the honeysuckle blooms. “Pashy"—her right name was Patience, u discovered later, and her sister's, ulda—was in the lead. She always took the lead when the pair went walk- ing, just as she did in all practical and worldly matters, household cares and the like. Hulda only led in a fashionable conversation, in letter-writing, in fancy needle-work, and in the discussion of Tom Moore's merits as a poet. Soit had been since they were chilgren—Pashy was the caretaker and business manager; Huldy the social star, the family pet and ornament. This distinction showed in the manner in which the sisters dressed. Both wore garments which had been the fashion fif- teen years before, but Pashy’s were plain and businesslike, while Huldy's were more pretentious and inclined toward a middle-aged and very respectable coquet- ry. It was Pashy who wore the shoulder kerchief and the plain bonnet of a coal- scuttle pattern, which in cold weather was exchanged for a quilted hood. Her hair was parted in the middle and brush- ed back at each side. Huldy wore curls and a hat which tied with ribbons beneath her chin; a figured cashmere shawl was thrown over her shoulders, and about her neck was a red coral necklace. Her lace collar was fastened with a large cameo pin, and there was a gold ring on her finger, and what grandma called “dang- ets” of red coral dependent from her ears. Huldy carried a faded blue silk parasol, neatly patched and mended in a dozen places, and Pashy bore an ancient and pudgy green umbrella and a flowered carpet bag with a pair of leather handles. The contents of that carpet bag seldom | varied, and could have been itemized from memory by every adult and nearly every child in our village. There were the two clean handkerchiefs—a plain one for Pashy and an embroidered one for Huldy; a bottle for smelling salts, empty a leather purse, containing very little ex- cept two large house keys, those of the front and back doors; a little silk bag with some bits of sugared flagroot in it; and always on Sunday afternoons a plump envelope stamped precisely in the upper right-hand corner, and addressed to the niece who lived in Louisville, Kentucky. Writing this letter to the far-off niece was a Sabbath ceremony as regular and almost as solemn as going to church, for the old maids. Huldy sat down to the mahogany desk with the rickety, twisted legs, and unlocked the inlaid writing-case, which her father, pompous old Cap'n Darius Baker, had brought home from Genoa when she was a chiid. Pashy sat side and an arched window above. Your | beside her sister, holding in her lap a copy Cousin Ed, who lived in Boston and waz | going to be an artist some day—after he | t through “making the crew" and be- | ing conditioned at Harvard—enthused over that house. He said it was a per fect specimen of Colonial architestgre. Then he saw the old maids themselves, and promptly declared that they were ect specimens likewise. Your eariiest memories of the old maids and their home are associated with sum- mer Sunday afternoons and the walks you used to take with grandma. These walks varied a little as to route, but their objective point was always the same, namely, the cemetery. There were many things which the respectable portion of our village considered wicked to do on Sunday, but to walk to the cemetery was not one of these. Grandma liked to go there for various reasons, to carry flow- ers for Aunt Desires grave, to see if the man who was paid one dollar a year for taking care of the family lot was earning his salary, to inspect the new tombstones which were erected from time to time and speculate concerning their cost, and to instil into your young mind the inevit- able end of worldly ambition and the ne- cessity of preparation for the hazardous ou didn't care much for the cemetery. There were several epitaphs which fas- cinated you for a while, itaphs like that of “Solon Tyndall, Kill a Fall from the Main t il Yard of Bark Amazon, in the Harbor of Buenos Ayres on March 12, 1850. “He as a seaman did his duty well, But his foot slipped and from aloft he fell, Fell, but to rise and climb the shrouds on high, And greet his Master with a glad ‘Aye, aye." Or that which recorded the fate 1.4 the * As grandma when she read this inscrip- tion invariably pronounced “creek” like “crick" you associated it with the lumba- go, called locally “a crick in the back,” and wondered what the unfortunate Ab- salom was doing with his gun behind him. Later you learned duck-hunting in the creek between East and had been ac- of “The Gentlewoman's Complete Letter Writer.” Between them, on the floor, lay Dr. Johnson's pondercus dictionary. Huldy looked at her sister, took up the pearl-handled pen which had come with the writing-case, and drew a long prepar- atory breath. Pashy returned the look and also drew a long breath. Then Hudly dipped the pen in the ink-well and wrote at the top of the sheet of note paper: "BELOVED NIECE—I take my pen in hand to inform you that my dear sister and I are well and we trust and pray that this may find you the same.” The letter, thus begun, continued for exactly eight pages. It was filled with such bits of village news as had reached the ears of the sisters, together with a careful notation of the household Somgs, how many eggs the hens had laid, the number of pears on the ancient Bartlett tree, and similar items, all couched in the stilted language of the "Complete Letter writer,” and ornamented with such quo- tations from Moore's poems as Huldy considered appropriate. The next step, following the comple- tion of the letter, was to take it to the post-office, in order that it might be sure to go out on the early mail Monday morn- ing, and this trip to the office, via the same "short cut” which you and grandma took on the way to the cemetery, was the occasion of your esting the old maids with such regularity at the little bridge. The conversation at these meetings did not vary greatly. “Land sakes!” grandma would exclaim, under her breath; "here's the old maids. | ma Thought ‘twas about time. They're as sure as death and taxes." Then aloud: "Good morning, Pashy. How d've do, Huldy? Nice seasonable weather we're having. I presume likely you're going up to mail your letters.” The old maids acknowledged the greet- ing each in her individual manner. Good afternoon,” said Pashy, briskly. "Yes, we're going to the ae to—" "To insert our epistle in the receptacle for postal matter,” concluded Huldy gra- . "The weather is indeed delight- ful. the bard has said—" What the bard said can ndt be recalled at the moment. However, it doesn’t mat- ter; he was sure to have said | appropriate toany and all topics. The | maids passed on and grandma looked | after them. { "Cat's foot!” she exc “Don’t they beat the Dutch? A body would think they were King Solomon's rela- tions, and yet it's as likely as not don't have a meal of victuals from one week's end to the other—that | is, unless they're invited out.” | tion, but on the one memorable occasion when you and mother took tea with the old maids the grandeur of the ceremony , overshadowed any shortage in the com- | missary department. The table was set | in the dining-room, of course, the old-time, low-st dining-room, with its yellow woodwork, which had once been white, with its tall clock in the corner and the braided rag mats on the floor, with its chairs at equal distances along the walls, and each set so exactly in its habitual place that there were little marks on the floor which the legs fitted into. Everything was years and years old and far behind the times; even the tall clock, which, so Pashy explained, was two hours and a quarter slow, but, as she and her sister were used to it and always figured accordingly, it really didn't make much difference. The clock, by the way, ex- hibited above its face a painted marine scene, where a ship behind a ridge of tin waves rocked steadily with every swing of the pendulum. The dishes were blue and white, with pictures of and funny little bridges upon them. tea-cups had no handles —that is, they were ey them— and both Pashy and Huldy drank their tea from the saucers instead of the cups them- selves: the air with which Huldy sipped hers, holding the saucer in her left hand, with the little finger stifily extended, was inimitable and impressive. The milk pitcher was yellow, and upon its side was a picture of the death of Washington, the eat George being lifted from his bed by our angels with spreading wings and radiant halos, up to a mass of tumbled ing thunderstorm. were pictures on the walls, pic- tures of ships at sea or of scenes in for- and hung among them; so, too, was Cap'n Baker's certificate of membership in the Boston Marine Society, and the coat-of- arms of the Baker family, done in scream- ing water colors. Also there was a large colored print of the battle between the Constitution and the Guerriere. The Con- stitution flew a tremendous battle flag, the red blue of which not only covered the banner but a liberal section of adjacent sky. Bushy pronounced a solemn and lengthy blessing, to which her sister, from the foot of the table, responded with a devout “Amen.” Then Pashy poured the tea, Huldy passed the bread and butter, and the meal began. It was a quaint, old-fashioned meal, the food not too abundant, but everything very good indeed. There were caraway-seed cookies and sweet apple and barberry pre- serves, and tiny cranberry tarts, sweeten- ed with molasses instead of sugar. And, while you ate, the old maids and mother talked, talked of the minister's latest ser- mon and of the weather and of grand- father’s health. Huldy embellished the conversation with quotations from Dr. Johnson and Tom Moore, and gave un- qualified testimonial to the benefit derived from “Indian Bitters,” a cure-all, the | receipt for which had been handed down | from her grandparents. Also she spoke lof “Godey's Lady's Book" as the one | periodical suited to the literary needs of a | genteel family. | 7 “We used to take,” she added, a tinge of regret in her voice, “ ‘Gleason's Month- ly Pictorial,’ but that was when father was alive. We don't take it now. It— it isn’t what it used to be.” Now the “Pictorial” was still a revered visitor at your house, therefore you were surprised when mother acquiesced with a prompt: “No, certainly not.” One element of tea-table chat was con- spicuously lacking, that is, gossip. The ! old maids never gossiped—gossip was not genteel. After supper you went into the sitting- room. And there, amid staid heavy pieces of mahogany furniture and bits of bric-a- brac from China and Japan and India, under inspection by rows of stiff portraits in oil, you sat and wriggled while mother and the old maids talked and talked and talked and talked. Huldy said good-by in the sitting-room, but Pashy came to the.door. There she and mother whispered for a few moments. You caught fragments like: “Yes, the shaw! will bedone in a weekif I can work nights; my eyes aren't what they used to be.” “Yes, we should be thankful for the potatoes, but of course we couldn't think of letting you give them to us. We are not dependent upon charity, thank good- ness.” And, “Please don't let Huldy know I told you this. She is so delicate, and has been through so much, poor child, that I try to carry most of the load my- self. But sometimes it is awful hard.” Then you went away into the shadows of the starry night, wondering and think- ing. After you had passed cemetery and felt safe enough to relax your grip on mother's hand, you asked her many questions, but she would not answer them, always changing the subject. So you knew there was a mystery concerning the old maids—a secret known to mother and grandma and perhaps all the “grown. ups,” but not to little boys. “Well, you know the secret now. The romance you suspected was there, but it was such a sordid, pitiful romance; hard the fact that it contained a great surprise. And the surprise was this: The old maids were not old maids at apn Darius Baker was a great man in his day. One of the magnates of our vil- lage he was, after he retired from sea, and drove a span and gave liberally to the church and for town improvements. After his election to the State Legislature the big house on the Neck Road was filled guests whom the Cap'n t Boston, and there were £s I ——— clouds which seemed to betoken a com- eign ports. A worsted “sampler,” made | by Pashy when a schoolgirl, was framed | ly worth the telling, it may be, except for | ti ing, and Pashy, without jealousy, as- in the spoiling. Cap'n Darius, though respected and envied, was not a universal favorite. He considered pompous and “stuck up,” people said that he did seem to consider h | good for the village yo to call upon them, some of these men were promising skippers of daughters too i i young There was truth in grandma's observa- | full-rigged ships, and “catches” whom | | many a scheming parent had marked and { laid traps for. So, though the girls---Huldy | in particular---had many would-be beaux, i no one of the latter could be picked out i by the gossips as “steady company” for i either of the sisters. | And then came the Count. This is the | only recorded instance of the coming of | nobility to our village, and it created 2 { sensation which extended over the whole i county. On the first Sunday when Huldy | Baker entered the meeting-house upon { the arm of the titled foreigner. Parson | Simpkins's reading of the Scripture stop- | ped for an instant, and the buzz of ex- | cited interest which stirred the cougrega- i tion reminded its older members of the time when Araminta Panniman marched up the aisle with her bonnet on “hind | side before.” The Count, so it appeared—his name is | forgotten now, and you never heard it | pronounced twice alike by those who pre- | tended to rememher it—was an Italian . nobleman visiting this country on a plea- | sure trip. He had met Cap'n Darius at a ! dinner in Boston, and the Cap'n, with customary enterprise, had seized upon him and brought him home for an over | Sunday stay. People, supposed to be up i in such matters, remarked that he was “dead gone on Huldy already.” Apparently he was, for he came again and again, until, finally, the engagement was announced. The wedding was the swellest affair ever known on the Cape, and, so the “Item” said, was attended by “a galaxy of beauty and chivalry which would have done honor to the proudest | capitals of Eurpoe.” None of the Count’s relatives were present. bute that was not expected---Italy was a long way off in those days. The bridal couple departed, via the Boston packet, on their honeymoon journey to. . . well, anywhere from the pyramids of Egypt to Niagara Falls, ac- cording to who told the story. Cap'n remained at home to keep house as usual, and our village rubbed itseyes and settled back to await developments. They came within a year. Of course foreseen the miserable denouement. But cables were unknown and newspapers their wiles had not been printed broad: cast to serve as warnings for aspiring fathers and ambitious young women. The Count wasn't a count at all. He wasn't even an Italian, but hailed from some- where in the South and had a wife and daughter living in New Orleans. Anxious letters from the forsaken wife led to the disclosure and the consequent scandal. Our village stopped work for a week, to gather at the sewing circle and the post office and whisper rumors and surmises. The rumors became certainties, and more rumors trod upon the heels of the er at Boston. The Count was in jail somewhere. Cap'n Baker was in finan- cial difficulties; he had been speculating and had lost all his money; the marriage wwith the supposedly rich nobleman had been arranged by him with a hope that | his son-in-law’s wealth might help him out of his troubles. Huldy was very sick. There was talk of arresting her father. Thay say Pashy's demeanor at this ! dreadful time was something to be re- , membered. She grew thin and white, | but she bore herself as proudly and went i about her work as bravely as when the | family name was clean and unsmirched. | She went to church each Sunday and sat in the Baker pew. and thosa who would fain have Sympathized with her did not dare do so, any more than the meaner souls who would have liked to gloat over her downfall dared sneer in her presence. Then came the final crash. Cap'n Da- rius committed suicide in a Boston hotel, and Huldy, weak, worn, and crushed, came to our village with the body. Even sheltered her sister from curious eyes and took upon her own shoulders all the worry and anxiety of the months that followed. So that is the story of the old maids. amid the treasures collected during their father's prosperity, and no one but avery few knew—thongh many gu hard was the struggle for even the neces- sities of life, and how they sewed and crocheted and knit far into the nights to make the articles they sold to the towns- people and the summer visitors. And to fewer still was known how steadfastly Fashy tore her harden and how she re- fi charity and sacrificed her own com- fort and actual needs to humor her weak- er sister. The “niece” in New Orleans curious and deep-rooted sympathy for this girl, whose father had wronged her, and the letter every Sunday was faithful iy written and faithfully mailed until the hands which wrote and mailed it were ago, before still forever. old maids died years you left our village. Pashy: worn out, died first, and Huldy, entirely at sea with- out her protector and gui in a few months. She left the house and were sold at prices which would have kept the old maids in comfort for years. But to sell articles which belonged to held himself above | ‘common folks.” Atanyrate he certainly | men who came Baker returned to the Legislature, Pashy | Ee 3 orale ate Hie Ro every one who reads this has already scarce then, so tales of bogus counts and i first. Huldy had come back to her fath- | then Pashy did not openly give way, but All their lives they lived in the old house, was the Count’s daughter. Huldy felt a and flagroot, of the summer Sunday walks with grandma, and memories of “‘Pashy - and Huldy."--By Joseph C. Lincoln, in Collier’s. THE YEAR Anniversary of the Year in Which many Great Men were Born. A Year of Great Deeds. The Dis- covery of the North Pole—Wireless Telegraph's | Work—Greatest Ocean Speed——Man Begins to Fly ~The Wireless Telephone. At the beginning of 1909, we all knew that it was the hundreth anniversary of a year that is famous as the year in which great men were born; several of them, indeed, were among the most distinguish- ed men of modern times. d as some of our have recently pointed out, in looking back over 1909, we realize that it, too, is a remarkable year, and 1909. likely to be famous in history as a year in which great things were done. To the girls and boys of the United States probably the centennial anniversary | of the birth of President Abraham Lincoln ~..one of our greatest Presidents---was the most conspicuous because of its general celebration in the schools. But 1809 was the birth year, also, of one of the greatest statesmen of England, ' William Ewart Gladstone; of one of its greatest poets, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, fd of perhaps itsgreatest scientist,Charles rwin. The musical world rejoiced that 1809 had produced two of the most illustrious composers, Chopin and Mendelssohn: and two of America's most brilliant writers, Edgar Allan Poe and Oliver Wendell Holmes, also were born that year. The city and State of New York also celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of the beginning of successful steam navigation on the Hudson river, and the y of the ex- three hundredth anni ploration of that river by Henry Hudson. But it must be remembered that there have been several other important cen-' tennial celebrations in 1909. Among the minor “Three-Hundred-Years-Ago"” cele- brations a notable one was the erection by the Chicago C tional club of a tablet in Amsterdam, of the Pilgrim Fathers who afterwa came to America. the sea and begin a new life in the New i World. Gov. Bradford thus expressed it: ' goe into ye Low Countries, where they | heard was freedome of Religion for all men * ® * and lived at Amsterdam.” Bio: made to the city of Leyden in Hol- land. | But famous as 1909 is as a one hun- |dredth (and a three hundredth) anni- | versary vear, it seems likely to be even! | more famous as the beginning of an era of | marvelous advancement in the fields of | science. Indeed, several scientific achievements---genuine “fairy- | tales of science”---mustalready be record- | ed to the credit of the year. tail: i*~1. bringing to a triumphant conclusion than three centuries of arctic explo- ration, has been the announcement of the | discovery of the north pole. Within a single week of 1909 such announcements and claims were made by Dr. Frederick { A. Cook and by Commander Robert E. | Peary, of the United Statesnavy. : Arctic explorations began in 1553 by English explorers, Willoughby and Chan- cellor, seeking for a passage through arc- tic waters. In 1576 Martin Frobisher discovered ‘ Frobisher bay and brought home earth | that he claimed contained goid. He made | two later voyages and was followed in | 1585 by John Davis, who discovered the | straits that have since borne his name. William Baffin, in 1646, reached about | 77 degrees and 45 minutes north latitude. | His record remained unequalled for 236 | years. William Barentz made three voyages. | year, | more {On the last, in 1596-97, he discovered | Spitzbergen, but failed to find the suppos- ' ed eastern 5 Various exploring parties were sent out one added something to our geographical the Hudson river and the site of the pres- ians claim that Verrazano, and not Hud- son, was the first discoverer of this river, but that Hudson was fhe first to explore and make it widely known.) how | ent great metropolis, New York. (Ital | Lieut. John Franklin was one of the ! most famous of the explorers of the fro- zen north. His explorations ended in 1826. Then followed Capt. John Ross in 1829, Capt. C. Back in 1833, Dr. Kane in 1853, several other famous explorers, in- cluding Greely and Nansen, during the last forty years have tried nobly, but in vain, to reach the pole. Commander Robert E. Peary began his explorations in 1886 and several times has pushed his way into the far north. Dr. Cook was surgeon for Commander Peary ired him with a love of arctic explora- tion that was put into practice in several hunting and exploring trips. This brief review of some of the many arduous explorations of the North by .of | many brave men helps us to realize the difficulties they had to overcome, and makes the success of 1909 all the more important and wonderful. 2. Wireless Telegraphy. In some re- the most dramatic of all events on ocean and the most wonderful of all accomplishments of science was the sav- ing of the lives of some fifteen hundred prsseugers on the Repulic of She White r line by wireless telegraphy. The boat was about forty-five miles from Nan- tucket, on her way to Naples, last Janu- ary. Early in the morning she was struck by another boat, the Florida. This accident was chiefly due to aheavy fop. The steel sterhiof the Florida smagh olland, in Jetory past and future, is woven into the head- It was there three hun- dred years ago that they decided to cross A similar gift by the people of Boston remarkable Let us glance at some of them in de- i The Discovery of the North Pole— Probably the most dramatic event of the | to the far north about this time by New England, Holland and Denmark, and each | knowledge of polar regions. One of these | parties in 1607 was commanded by Hen- ry Hudson, who was disappointed in not finding the “northwest passage,” and then tu southwest. His little ship, the Half Moon, found what was much better, | on his tripin 1891; and the journey in- Almost two thousand lives saved go to the credit of this victory for science, and they count Jack Binns, who remained - faithfully at his wireless tel ph instru- ment, as one of the heroes of the year. 3. Great Ocean Speed. The year 1909 lows: Eastward: Highest day's run, 610 | knots; shortest passage, 4 days, 13 hours, 41 minutes (short track); bighest average | speed, 25.89 knots (long track): West- . ward: Highest day's run, 673 knots: a ten 47" ighest erage { minu track): t av | speed, 26.06 knots (short track). { Mauretania holds all eastward and west- ward records for highest daily runs, fast- | est shortest passages and high- est between the Irish coast and Sandy Hook. 4. Man Begins to Fly---This same year has seen most wonderful demonstrations of the success of flying machires---not merely steerable balloons, but machines that are heavier than air and yet really fly in aphte of this weight. Prominent in many daring flights, Guritg the year, have been: In America, the ight brothers; ‘in Germany, Count Zeppelin (with his huge, metal-covered dirigible balloon); and in France, M. Bleriot (who was first to cross the English channel ina flying machine.) 5. The Wireless Telephone. Another wonderful achievement is the ability to send the voice through space without wires. With the wireless telephone, the voice produces electrical vibrations, and travel through the air as do the electrical waves of wireless telegraphy. One writer has e it thus: The difference is precisely {hint between shouting to a man across thestreet and talking to him over the wire, save that the radiophone hurls the sound waves over greater distances than the unaided voice. What next ? Our month January was named after the old Latin god Janus, who was supposed to have two faces, looking in opposite directions--forward and back-- ‘or toward both the past and the future. (His fanciful image, holding the keys of iece on e 266.) And two-headed anus, in this particular January, has mighty achievements of mankind to be- hold in the reals of nature and science. The opportunities and possibilities of the future will always be greater than the ac- ‘ complishments of the past. But we sel- dom have so much in one year to be proud "af as we had in 1809 and 1909. . ——Do you know that you can get the | finest oranges, bananas and grape fruit, and pine apples, Sechler & Co. What the Pennsylvania Rail Road Com- pany Has Done in the Matter of Pensions. | Reports compiled by the Relief Depart- | ments of the Pennsylvania Railroad Sys- tem show that since their establishment, some twenty-three years ago, there have been paid in benefits the sum of $27,308,- 152.81. This is brought out in a report | for the month of November, issued today, : which also shows that the number of | employees of the Pennsylvania Railroad ! System who were members of the relief | funds on December 1st, 1909, was 143,102 ' as compared to 128,986 on the same date lin 1908. The total amount of benefits _ paid in 1909 up to the end of November amounted to $1,689,748.57. | The relief department of the lines east of Pittsburg and Erie in the month of November paid to its members the sum of $115,039.85, representing $47,108.00 paid to the families of members who died and $67,931.85 to members who were incapac- itated for work. The total payents on the lines east of Pittsburg and Erie since the Relief fund was established in 1886 have amounted to $19,916,537.80. In November, the relief department of the Pennsylvania lines west of Pittsburg . and Eric paid out a total of $42,477.00 of which $15,750.00 were for the families of members who died, and $26,727.00 for members who were unable to work. The ‘ sum of $7,391,615.01 represents the total payments of the relief fund of the lines west Site it was established in 159 Probably unique among t pension roils of the country is that of the Penn- sylvania Railroad Company, which, ac- cording to a compilation just completed, + is shown to have 226 employees who are over eighty years of age, and who were retired when they were seventy years, or younger, and have received annual pen- | sions ever since. | A similar compilation made recently | shows that the Pennsylvania Railroad has ' 1,350 active employees who have been | with the road forty years or more, and ' 1,013 additional men who, before they | were retired on pension had served the | road more than forty years. i The number of employees on the Penn- sylvania pay roll who are over eighty . years of age is shown in the following | table; . NUMBER | AGE i 89 6 i 88 4 87 12 i 86 14 85 26 ; 84 23 : 83 26 : 82 37 | 81 37 : 80 41 : — i Total, 226 In addition to these employees there are i three who are ninety or more: | Andrew Abels, of Phi phia, who was ' born May 23, 1817; was retired January 1st, 1900; David B. Price, of the : division, was born Nov. 3, 1818 and was | retired January lst, 1900: he had been | with the company as an active since 1854; Andrew Nebinger of - delphia Division, was born March 17th, 1819, and retired on a pention January 40 years of continuous road. These three men were retired when the Pennsylvania in 1900 established America’s first railroad These unusual statistics are not brought out in the reports of the Railroad's Pen- sion Fund of the vania, which in the first nine of its existence has paid to reti employees of the railroad a total of $3,445,793.77. —Do you know where to get the finest teas, coffees and spices, Sechler & elec- | Co. — “Here's a_heading in this paper which says, ‘Badly Mutilated by a Mount- ed Band." “What was the name of the piece the band was mutilating?” ——1If you wish for anything which be- longs to another you lose that which is your own.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers