Beni itd, Belletonte, Pa., June 5, 1914. WRITE THEM A LETTER TONIGNT. Don’t go to the theatre, concert or ball, But stay in your room tonight; Deny yourself to the friends that call And a good long letter write— ‘Write to the sad old folks at home, Who sit when the day is done, With folded hands and downcast eyes, And think of the absent one. Don't selfishly scribble: “Excuse my haste, I've scarcely the time to write,” Lest their brooding thoughts go wandering back To many a by-gone night, When they lost their needed sleep and rest, And every breath was a prayer That God would leave their delicate babe To their tender love and care. Don’t let them feel that you've no more need Of their love and counsel wise; For the heart grows strangely sensitive When age has dimmed the eyes. It might be well to let them believe You never forget them quite; That you deem it a pleasure, when far away, Long letters home to write. Don’t think that the young and giddy friends, Who make your pastime gay, Have half the anxious thoughts for you That the old folks have today. The duty of writing do not put off, Let sleep or pleasure wait; Let the letter for which they looked and longed Be not a day too late.— Selected. “SAID.” Sir Eliot Holt had been down in the City the greater part of the day; the brougham had been waiting for him in front of the offices of Anglo-Chinese De- velopment Co. for over an hour when he finally descended the steps and got in. “Marsden,” he said to the footman, “get me to Sir Walter Thorne’s by half after five; so tell Jupe to drive slowly, and by the Embankment.” The man touched his hat, and sprang up beside the coachman. The afternoon was what is called one of proverbial London weather: the som- ber sky lowered almost to the touching point with the somber earth; there was no rift in the lead, no promise in the east or in the west; the fog infolded the em- bankment, made one with the river, and hung like a drift of gauze about the houses, the towers, the monuments, and the steeples. It was of course all essen- tially English, and yet to this man the misty Thames stood that day for one of the yellow rivers of the Orient; the swathe of the British haze was the vapor that swallows up swamp-land and upland alike in the Chinese country, the lights that pierced the gloom were the lanterns of the province of Fu-chau, and for all that his eyes were now closed, they be- held with vivid exactness the face of a gentle fawn-colored girl of the East, a pupil in the mission-school in Tientsin. He had seen her there only once, and had gone again and again to find her; but she was never found or heard of, save that her father, whose name no one knew, had come secretly and taken her away, probably to earn money for him by making the exquisite flowers of silk on which Holt himself had then seen her working. As he stared out into the vapory waste, from which even the electric lights had vanished in the merging of earth an sky, he saw in fancy another face—a fair, English face of rose and pearl, thin-lip— ped, arching-browed, and quiet-eyed, and reflecting on it, his own face took on a harder and more reticent expression. Sir Eliot was accounted a man of in- exorable pride, few foibles, little heart, and next to no feeling. He was thought to be addicted to nothing less than to sentiment or imagination; therefore it almost goes without saying that he was sometimes ruled, even obsessed, by both sentiment and imagination. At the desired hour the brougham pulled up before Sir Walter’s house in South Audley Street, and presently Sir Eliot was having tea with Nina Thorne, and waiting for other guests to leave. When they started to go, she rose and went with them the length of the two drawing-rooms, and seemed in no hurry to return; but when she looked into the mirrors before her, and noticed that he was pacing back and forth, she smiled to jereeld left the guests, and went back to im. She was very charming, gracious, and graceful, perfectly gowned, and a bit lan- guorous from the top of her tall, blonde head to the tips of her velvet slippers. “So you are really going away?’’ she said. He inclined his head, looking at her from under his level, appraising brows, Sir Eliot Holt, men said, appraised every- thing, and while not necessarily at a money value, at a value of some sort, physical, or mental. So of course he ap- praised Nina Thorne. She did not look up as she took her seat and indicated a chair to him. Her blue eyes were fixed upon the floor. “How long?” she asked. “A year, at the least.” Then she did raise her lids, taking in his tall, straight figure, his gray eyes, his clean-cut, smooth-shaven face, with strong jaw, and lips full of tenderness when he smiled. He was faultless in the little motions of hand, arm, and feature that betray human fineness or coarseness, yet withal calm, unaroused. “Twelye whole months! she exclaimed under her breath. He did not answer at the moment, so absorbed was he in saying within himself, “Shall I, or shall I not?” that even cour- tesy went by the board. And, too, for all the charm of her pink lips, he did not crave to kiss them; for, between him and the English girl stood that girl of the Ori- ent. : “Twelve whole months!” Nina repeat- ed in an even lower tone. Sir Eliot took a step nearer, and stand- ing quite erect before her, said smiling- ly “Suppose we call it on. What do you say?” Miss Thorne’s heart seemed to stop beating; the things she had most wished for this man and his possessions, were actually being offered to her, what mat- ter how? They were within her grasp; the triumphant red flooded her face and throat. At last, after months of subser- vience and diplomacy, she had her chance. He might wait a minute or two; she had waited many days. “Don’t you think we can hit it off fair- ly well, Nina?” he said, laughing a little as he sat down beside her. “Come,” he added, as she kept silent, “had you not | better give me your answer now? I have only a few minutes more. I’m off, you | remember, to-morrow.” | “No!” She put out a very beautiful hand a little way; it was not taken. “Not as soon as that?” “Precisely. I must tell you. A new | railway-line is to be built through the val- ! ley of the Yellow River.” His voice was | suddenly full of enthusiasm. “A mag- i nificent piece of work; I am putting a | pretty big lump into it personally, and | the approximate outlay, all told, will be | ten millions. I am pledged for the whole, 1 if it is not subscribed by either the Chi- | nese or our European governments.” “Yes?” she uttered the syllable with sufficient interest, her heart throbbing at the thought of ten millions. Not that she was poor; but her fathers income was only four thousand a year, a trifle beside the high-tide mark which she had set for herself. “What do you suppose ‘betrothed’ is in Chinese?” He was surveying her critical- ly as he spoke. She smiled radiantly. she said. i ‘Said.’ ” « Said?’ ”’ she repeated, still smiling. “ Said,” and done?” he reiterated gaily. “Is it not?” “]—suppose so,” she replied, laughing gaily with him. “Then’’—he looked at his watch—“T’ll drop in at the club and see your father on my way. He will be there, will he not, as usual?” : “He is there now,” she answered. “My very best to the lady mother.” He took her hand, touched his lips to it, looked into her upturned eyes, and added: “I will send you all sorts of pret- ty things from the Orient, including a ring, and I am sure I am quite the most contented man in England to-night.” “I hope so,” she laughed. “You will write?” “Rather! I'm not much at long letters, though,” he said, shrugging his shoul- ders, “but we understand each other too well to pin our faith on scraps of paper.” “Yes,” she assented. “We can leave those to the Chinese: they use them for prayers, don’t they?” “Yes, I believe so.” “You have been in the Orient before?” she asked. “Oh, dear me, yes! I like it.” His gaze had gone away from her. “There's some- thing out there in the East that supplies my lack, or wakes the dormant in me.” “May we not go there together some day?” She moved a bit closer to him. “Of course. Anywhere you like. On a wedding-journey, eh? We must be married very soon after I get back, if you please.” He laughed. She inclined her head. His hand was on the knob. “I don’t ask you to come down and see me off; I’ve a lot to do up to the very last instant. 1°11 call you up before I board the train for Liverpool.” She smiled, and he was gome. Ah-Moy-Ah, of the Flowers of Silk, sat in the watching-lodge built on the high rickety staging at the northeast corner of er honorable father’s watermelon- eld. The watching-lodges in the Chinese farm-lands, dotting as they do every ten acres or so of cultivated earth during harvest-time, dre among the most pictur- esque features of the Oriental landscape. Built of tall, bamboo staves, thatched with sorghum-leaves or bits of old mat- ting, branched with rude arbors full of clinging and flowering vines, with a great number of poles sticking out at angles all over them, and with each of these hung with brilliant-colored lanterns, shining in the misty nights like fairy globes, the watching-lodges are things of beauty to Western eye. To the Mongo- lian they are simply there to harbor those who watch for the hordes of thieves who infest every spot in China where there is a grain of millet, a stalk of sorghum, a peach, a plum, a grape, a mellon, or a cucumber to be pilfered. Were the crops not watched day and night, the farmer would never gather a grain. So Ah-Moy- Ab, of the Flowers of silk, sat in her father’s watching-lodge, looking out be- tween the grape-vine leaves, her fine, ob- long eyes now on the fields, where per- haps the robbers were lying flat be- tween the vines or crawling like lizards, now on the basket of silks and velvets on the stand beside her. For the trade of Ah-Moy-Ah was to make, with her nimble fingers, exquisite flowers of silk, velvet, and muslin, which, surpassing in loveliness the flowers of all other makers, had gained her her second name and not a little money. She sat in the upper staging of the watching-lodge, perched on aslab of thick paper, with no one with her but her grandmother, who slept soundly on her mat in the corner. Her needle was threaded, and near by were a jar of gum, sharp scissors, little steel tools, brushes, and reels. But her needle was idle; for her gaze went away beyond the melons and the millet, the maize, thesweet pota- toes, and the golden squashes, to rest upon the river, where it coiled through the far-off burial-places and slid quite over to the Sacred Mountain, limned against the blue-purple horizon. Then the crows laughed in the elms, and Ah. Moy-Ah brought her eyes home again as she heard some one approaching. Those who came were not thieves, but her honorable father and two of his cousins. The three men came into the watching- “I don’t know,” father of Ah-Moy-Ah screamed up to her and to her grandmother to watch well, for the beggars were abroad. Ah-Moy- Ah shouted back that she would, but that already the grandmother was asleep. While the three men whispered to- gether, Ah-Moy-Ah swept her blossoms to one side, slipped down to the slatted flooring, and, wetting her finger, laid it on the paper carpet, making a tiny hole, to which she applied her pretty ear. This is what she heard: In the heavily voweled Manchu, her father spoke first: “Look at the burial- places of our ancestors! the foreign devils have come; they will build the railway that will lead from the city to the sea; they will make cursed bridges over the river; they will desecrate the tombs of our honorable grandfathers. Is this to be?” “No, honorable sir,” answered a voice. “] respectfully bathe myself before I reply to you; and my reply is, No!* The father of Ah-Moy-Ah exclaimed: “I am an old man; I have not long.”—A groan greeted this announcement.—“I have five sons. Of course they are all married, and there are thirty-three grand- children, not to say mry wife and my daughter. Forty-one mouthsto feed, and I have only fifteen acres, and no one guards my crops save Ah-Moy-Ah and the mother of my wife! What can Ido?” A third voice said: “But, honorable sir,—I prostrate myself before you, and invite you to walk upon meas on a mat,—what of your daughter?” lodge and lighted their pipes, and the g A murmur like the sighing of the wind | greeted this. There was an interrogative note running through it, as there always is when a young girl is spoken of in! China up to the time of her betrothal. | Then the father of Ah-Moy-Ah no doubt made some significant sign, for Ah-Moy- Ah caught a prolonged, sibilant “Ah-h!” denotative of satisfaction. “Then,” the third voice went on, “it is, honorable master, not impossible that Ah-Moy-Ah, having been at the devilish mission-schools in Tientsin, can speak to the foreign devils in their own tongue, can waylay them with those wiles of the dog that women know?” But the voice of the father of Ah-Moy- Ah broke into so fearful and scornful a shriek that it startled the crows in their nests. However, when the echo of the shriek had died, the same voice which had provcked it went on: “It is at the mission-schools that Ah- Moy-Ah learned the embroideries which fetch to you much money, making your daughter valuable far beyond most, and the price her future husband's family must pay you will be great. Should you not, while she is your slave, instruct her to help us toward the preservation of our venerated tombs? The wit of a woman is an abomination when directed against her husband, but why not in the behalf of her sacred ancestors?” : But the father of Ah-Moy-Ah gave a second wail more appalling than the first, which, however, merely meant that Ah- Moy-Ah should do just what the friend in council had designated. So the father motioned his two companions out of the! watching-lodge. Ah-Moy-Ah sprang from the eye-hole | to her post at the lattice ashe said to! her, “Listen.” He stood at the foot of | the ladder, looking up. “I listen, revered and honorable sir; I: kneel to receive your words.” She knelt, leaning over the ladder toward him. “The foreign devils have come to sur- vey our land; they will wish to uproot! our forefathers; they will dig them up as the dogs dig up the sweet potatoes; they will scatter their ashes to the clouds. You know their tongue?” “Yes, honorable sir, tongue.” “Then, if any come this way in the pleasant daytime, bid them halt; feed them with the ripest melons; sell them your embroideries, if you can, at the largest price; say what you must say as the bluejay speaks to the crow, softly, but | listen, listen, always listen, and tell it to | me. Then her father went away with his two friends across the wide fields to the other watching-lodge, where they also were keeping vigil against the thieves, the dogs, and their own possible starva- tion. Ah-Moy-Ah sat on her mat by the lat- tice; she did not take up her needles and silks. The little moon had sunk into the arms of the mist, for the mist in the Orient is always holding out open arms to embrace everything; the bushes which separated the different fields had disap- peared; only just beneath her casement could she perceive the vines hung thick with fruit. Suddenly she seemed to hear something besides the deep breathing of the toothless old woman who slept on her mat in the far corner of the loft. Ah-Moy-Ah descended the ladder, knelt, and laid her ear to the ground. Yes, she heard the dull pound of a pony’s hoofs stuck with mud, then after a si-: lence the voice of a foreign devil speak- | ing to the pony as she had heard other | foreign devils do in Tientsin. This could not be one of those who would dig up; her ancestors. Oh, no; rather one who | came to rob the melon patch or to please | himself with the juice of her father’s | grapes. She ran up the ladder, drew the gong to her side, and stripped the cotton from the beater. She would frighten the | intruder with the noise, and at the same time call to her relatives in the other lodges. But she did neither, for just then she | heard the thud of a man’s boots in the | loose, damp soil at the threshold of the | lodge. i _ It was Sir Eliot Holt, who on his trip | of inspection had missed his way in the fog, lost his companions, and had come to the first light he saw for information. He caught sight of her by the flash of her swinging lanterns, little, lithe, with eyes black and shining, lips of the pome- granate’s hue, and hair as sleek as the wings of birds. He saw her before she saw him. Just as Ah-Moy-Ah was rais- ing her right arm to beat the gong their eyes met. Her arm dropped to her side, and her breath came quickly asshe recog- nized him, and now she was not afraid. “Do not be alarmed, honorable little lady,” he said in his best Chinese, raising his hat. “I have lost my way; my pony has gone lame in your thicket garden. The mists are heavy. May I stay down here until the wind blows away the fog?” Then Ah-Moy-Ah recalled the strange customs she had observed in the mission compound in Tientsin. “I understand. I have been warned. You come to steal the crops, the sorghum, the little millet, the pears and plums and grapes; but if you do not go away I will strike the gong, and all my esteemed relatives will rush forward and kill you.” So much Ah-Moy-Ah felt she must say for her father’s sake; but she smiled as she said it, and she did not strike the 1 know their | ong. Sir Eliot made haste to deny any ap- propriative inclination toward the crops. Then Ah-Moy-Ah, remembering all her father’s injunctions, cried: “Oh, you are then the Lord of Bitterness, and you ride over the sacred places; your ser- vants dig up the honorable dust of my grandfathers and plow up their bones; and the spirits lament; and my ances- tors are scattered to the salt winds. You plant instead the bars of iron and screws of steel, and upon these comes riding the evil of evils—the monster on his wheels, with smoke and fire and sparks in his head.” Sir Eliot reached up to the bamboo shed where Ah-Moy-Ah leaned over the uncertain railing, and took her hands in his; then, although she made no motion, he laid her hands back on the sill, draw- ing away; then bent his head and press- ed to his lips the edge of her sleeve. She sighed, lifted the sleeve across her face, and, looking over it, said: “You are Englishee man I have see’ mission-school, Tientsin side?” 3 5 Eliot exclaimed, “You speak Eng- ish?” Ah-Moy-Ah nodded eagerly. “Yes, I am an Englishman, but I am not a lord of bitterness. Oh, no, Listen,” he said. “Itis true Iam come to your country to build railways and set the cars running—"' “Ah!” she interrupted with a low wail, at which he smiled. “I have heard say so, truth?” (Concluded next week.) | the people of Jhansi. FROM INDIA. By One on Medical Duty in that Far Eastern Country. More Hot Weather. A Hindu Wed- ding, With Festivities. Etc. JuANsI, APRIL 23rd, 1913. Dear Home Folk: I.got up and ‘went to seven o’clock church this morning and stayed for the second service. It isa fairly good half- hours’ walk from here so I prefer to do it in the morning rather than at night, since the days are so hot. As I sat in church and looked out I could see the hedge of white oleanders, now in full bloom, and I thought how beautiful such a hedge would be at home. There is plenty of water in the church compound so their garden is not quite all gone. Did you know that oleanders die almost as soon as they are broken off? I had always thought that they would live like lilacs and was so disappointed after mak- ing up a big bouquet, and it was so pret- ty, to come back in about half an hour and find my beauties faded. Our wedding will come off on Tuesday and we are to give them a tea directly after the ceremony and they will start for the groom’s home the next day. It is a two days’ journey from here. The groom-to-be is a native preacher and earns the wonderful salary of eighteen rupees (six dollars) a month; and they will be able to live well on that. I won- | der how many people live well on six dollars a month in the States. You wonder at our cool spring; so do Such a cool Feb- ruary and March has never been known as the heat begins in February and by March it is hot; it will get hotter and the burning mirror. . ator of the catapult, the artillery of hotter until the middle of July when, as you know, the rains come and cool us down. I mean just that, for if for a day or two there is no rain it simply is as hot as ever and only the damp earth and the clouded sun make it cool. And that lasts until October, when in truth one knows and feels it cooler. One tries not to think of the heat for itis an ever pres- ent condition and the only way to live in it and enjoy it, is by forgetting all about its discomforts; hence my talking so much of the cool days. Iam sometimes puzzled as to what will prove interesting to write to you since I have told most things over many times. A surprise came to me last night; the nurses know I am looking for some old coins so while sitting at my desk one came in with a silver coin and said, “here is a strange coin that the matron was given at the bazaar in change, and sent it to you as a present.” It was a ten-cent piece and I was so glad to see it I almost kissed the lady on the coin. It is just a trifle smaller than a four “anna piece” (eight cents) and so passed for it. I shall give the matron her four “annas’ and keep my U.S. coin for a pocket- piece. I cannot imagine how it ever got into circulation here except that three days ago another of those “Clark tourists” went through here en route to Agra and Delhi and they must have passed it by mistake. Well, our tea party is over and it seems that all these Hindustani people want is food, since they came directly here from the church and tea and cake were given at once, ice cream being served a little later; and as soon as they had eaten home they went, just like an American crowd of the same kind. The bride looked like a Christmas doll, in white silk “sauri,” a wreath of many colored flowers on her head, witha white chiffon veil edged with cheap lace over all. Her fat, black face looked fatter and blacker, and her cheap imitations of English jewelry were truly comical, and I could only think of a colored bride in a minstrel show. But they were in dead earnest enough and went off last night, amidst many good wishes and many presents (such as they were.) Miss McL. and I gave her four sheets, others gave her cups and saucers, aluminum, glasses, a mirror and many cooking utensils, since they are the main things in a na- tive house. The whole tea thing took place out in the garden and the dishes were so hot that the ice cream melted as fast as I dipped it out, but they lapped up the melted milk and I wished I could give them more; our freezers are too small for such a crewd so they all had only a taste. You can’t buy ice cream here and it is considered much of a treat. The “loo” is getting very strong and we have big dust storms now with such a high wind. I am very glad for the wind when I am in doors since my “kus- kus tatti” works mighty fine then and I am kept nice and cool, but when . riding along on a bicycle it simply burns one up and sends you off to bed with a bad headache and a big desire to get rid of your breakfast, sol try to avoid itas as much as I can. We have had no after Easter snows. There was a little rain one night last week, perhaps twenty drops, and ‘“hon- est Injun” it sounded when it struck the earth as though you threw water on red- hot irons; simply sizzled, and by the time I decided not to go into the house but lie down again and let it rain, it was all over and the moon was smiling as se- renely as ever, and I was hotter for the clouds had stopped the wind. You may know how hot it is when one don’t even draw up the sheet at night when we are sleeping under the stars, as far as we conveniently can from the house. (Continued next week.) ——Remember that the WATCHMAN costs you no more than the cheapest pa- per in the county. | doing so even as it was. : quently worked out by Copernicus. i | i , the sea, CALLED FATHER OF SCIENCE Truly Wonderful Thinker and ventor Was Archimedes, Famous Through the Centuries. mnt in- On December 10 of the year 212 B. C. perished the great Archimedes, murdered by a brutal, ignorant Roman soldier, as he sat with bowed head in his house at Syracuse thinking out the mighty problems of science. Archimedes was born at Syracuse, Sicily, B. C. 287, and was therefore at the time of his death seventy-five years old. He was the greatest man of his day, and will ever rank as one of the profoundest thinkers and rea- soners of all time. In mathematics and natural philosophy he had no peer on earth, and it is not too much to say that he is fairly entitled to be called the “father of science.” He would have discovered the differen- tial calculus had algebra been known in his day, and he came very near He antici- pated the astronomical system subse- He laid the foundation of hydrostatics. He invented the method for the deter- mination of specific gravity. He for- mulated the true theory of the lever and uttered the ever famous words, “Give me whereon to stand and I will move the earth.” In theoretical me- chanics no advance was made upon his ideas during the eighteen centu- ries between him and Leonardo da Vinci. It was Archimedes who invented the endless screw, the most important me- chanical contrivance known to science. From the teeming brain of the old Syr- acusan came also the idea of the screw pump, the hydraulic engine and He was the cre- the olden time, whose dreadful bolts were the terror of ancient armies. He invented another engine, the ponder- ous claws of which, reaching over the | walls, lifted up ships and their crews and then suddenly dropped them into while with his great “sun glasses” he was able to set on fire such of the enemies’ ships as could not be reached with the grappling ma- chine. it took the world 2,000 years to pro- duce the equal of the mighty intellect that was brutally snuffed out by the blow from the mace of that brutal Ro- man soldier. Baths of Sea Sand. ! The very latest beauty bath is that : composed of hot sea sand. Some fa- | mous beauties have the sand brought direct from Coney island or Long: island in barrels. These baths are fairly expensive, but then it is claimed that they do infinite good to a certain quality of skin—that white skin which so often accompanies red-gold hair and a peach | compiexion. . The hot sea sand bath is prepared in rather a peculiar way. A large sheet is placed on the floor and cov- ered thickly with smoking hot sand. . Then the “patient” is wrapped up in the sheet and quietly massaged. Af-| ter five minutes the “patient” is rolled over and over a dozen times and then again massaged. By this time the sand is cool and the operation fin-' ished, unless a very enthusiastic beauty lover has the courage to begin all over again. After the sea sand bath is over a strong hot sea water bath is taken, and this is followed by a delicious douche of cold, faintly scented water.. Next comes the cup of coffee accom- panied by a roll and then—half an hour’s repose! Lesson in English. Many travelers have the unfortunate failing of attributing ignorance and backwardness to everyone who wears the strange garb and observes the strange customs of a foreign land. Often, as in the case of the tourist in China that the New York Tribune tells of, there is a rude awakening. When his steamer touched at Hong- kong, the tourist was delighted to see a Chinese woman in the costume of her country come on board ship. She was the first Chinese woman that he had seen in the native dress, and he determined to take a picture. Ad-. vancing to within a few feet of the lit- tle woman, he leveled the camera at her, and began to exclaim loudly in amateur pidgin English: “Me takee picture! Can catchee?” The Chinese woman looked at him in deep disgust, and replied in perfect English: : “You can catchee, but you may not.” Turning, she walked away. She had been graduated from an American col- lege the year previous. — ¢ Can catchee? _ A Fair Offer, i It was at the moving-picture show. | In front sat a young woman, very pret. | ty and modishly costumed, with her son, a youngster of perhaps six years. Just behind sat a young man—a good- | looking young man—a Well-dresseqd | man. The young man watched the ! young woman very much more closely than he did the screen across the | stage. For the firs quarter of an hour he did not dare to speak to her. But she was so attractive that he cudgeled ' his brains for sonle excuse to begin a | conversation. At last he hit upon the | idea of pretending he was a stranger’ —a foreigner—in need of information. | He leaned over and said in his best | French: “Pardon, madame, may I address a | few words to you?” The six-year-old escort turned | around with a courteous inclination of | his curly head. “If you wish, sir,” said he, “I will | translate for you. My mother does not understand French.”—New York Evening Post. - onies. - ——— 'MEAN MAN USED DIPLOMACY Proving That There Are More Ways Than One of Getting a Seat In Crowded Car. He was not tagged the meanest man in town, but he might well have been. The first thing he did after stepping inside the car was to fall over a suit- case, the next was to astonish his neighbors with an outburst of vigor ous language. His virile remarks made the owner of the suitcase un- comfortable. “] am sorry,” he apologized. “The suitcase does se¢'n to be in the way, but I have no IIs te else to put it.” “No place el-2 to put it?” repeated the irate passenger. “You can easily find a place. Any place would be bet- ter than right here by the door.” The man in the corner seat sur veyed the well-filled car doubtfully. “But I can’t move,” he said, “and I can’t shove the suitcase any further along with nobody to look after it. Somebody might swipe it.” The irate passenger reflected a mo- ment. “I'll tell you what to do,” he said. “Ask somebody to change places with you. Almost any man down there in the middle of the car would be willing to swap. You ought to try, anyway. Somebody is going to get a broken neck if that suitcase is left standing where it is much longer.” The prospect of being charged with homicide quickened the corner man into immediate activity. He picked up the suitcase and advanced to the middle of the car. “Sir,” he said, addressing a gentle- man of portly mien, “will you change places with me? I have a seat in the corner, but my suitcase appears to be in the way. If you will let me sit here I will appreciate the. favor.” “Certainly,” said the stout man, and began to rise. Before fully surrender- ing his advantageous position, how- ever, he looked toward the corner and sat down again heavily. “I believe,” he said, “I'll stay where I am.” The meanest man in town had usurped the place occupied by the owner of the suitcase and was intent- ly studying the panorama as viewed through the platform window. His victim sighed and clutched at a strap, and during the rest of the trip he im- . periled his own neck by stumbling , over the inconvenient suitcase. “Movies” Not So New. The “movies” (perhaps we should omit the quotation marks, the word is working into the language so fast) are considered a strictly twentieth-century development. Hereis an amusement ad- vertisement which appeared in the public prints in England exactly 101 years ago: “At the Duke of Marlborough’s Head in Fleet street, is now to be seen a new invented machine, com- posed of five curious pictures, with moving figures, representing the his- tory of the heathen gods, which move as artificially as if living; the like not seen before in Europe. The whole contains near an hundred figures, be- side ships, beasts, fish, fowl and other embellishments, some near a foot in hight; all of which have their respec- tive and peculiar motions, their very heads, legs and arms, hands and fin- gers, artificially moving to what they perform, and setting one foot before another like living creatures, in such a manner that nothing but nature can excel it. It will continue to be seen every day from 10 in the morning un- til 10 at night.” This will probably hold you for a . while, although it musi be admitted that the moving pictures of 1812 were different in mechanism and extent from those which play so large a part in the life of 1913.—Marper’s Weekly. Philadelphia’s Early Journalism. The first newspaper published in Philadelphia was the American Week- ly Mercury, which issued its first num- ber 194 years ago on December 22, 1719. It was the third newspaper in the American colonies, its two prede- cessors having been published in Bos- ton. The publication was “printed and sold by Andrew Bradford, at the Bible, in the Second street, and John Copson, in the High street.” Brad: ford, like the founders of the Boston News-Letter and the Boston Gazette, | was a postmaster. His father, William Bradford, had established the first printing office in America outside of New England. The postmaster-editor had his troubles with the authorities, ‘and was warned, on pain of imprison- ment and the confiscation of his print- ing plant, never to publish anything about the political affairs of the col The reprimand and warning . followed the publication of an article which Bradford explained had been inserted by a journeyman printer without his knowledge. Bradford had other disputes with the powers that ruled Philadelphia, and on one occa- sion was committed to prison, but was released. Dreamless Rabbit. Those who want a dreamless sleep after the late tidbits will surely appre- ciate this rule and will enjoy the dish in the bargain. ; Put in the blazer of a chafing dish one tablespoonful of butter; when hot add one cupful of milk, a cupful of fresh breadcrumbs, two cups of grated fresh cheese, add a teaspoonful of dry mustard and a pinch of paprika and salt. Stir constantly and when well blended add two well-beaten eggs. Cook one minute and serve at once on hot crackers. This is delicious made | with Edam cheese, using one cup of grated cheese, one and one-half cups of milk and one and one-half cups of breadcrumbs. It also makes a good luncheon dish.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers