—
_ Bellefonte, Pa., June 17, 1927.
+ ANOTHER BLUE DAY.
Mrs. Ordway got up at exactly her
usual time and, directly she was out
of bed, she had exactly her usual sen-
sation of discouragement and fatigue.
It seemed to her that the work she
had already accomplished was not
really finished and done, but still lay
upon her shoulders, a monstrous bur-
den to be added to each day, until she
was utterly crushed under the accum-
ulation of a whole life’s work,
When she glanced in the mirror the
weariness of her dark face terrified
ber; she was forty and looked every
day of it, and she could not afford to
look forty or weary. No one liked
that sort of thing in a business office.
So far, she gave no cause for com-
plaint, she was a competent and in-
telligent worker, more valuable in
every way than she had been ten years
ago. Buc her value was no longer in-
creasing. She had reached a good
‘position but she could never hope for
a better, and she would be fortunate
if she did not find herself in a worse
one before very long; because she saw
clearly something she hoped and be-
lievd nobody else had yet noticed, a
curious sort of unresponsiveness in
herself. Not that she was dull or
stupid, but simply that at heart she
felt so indifferent. Those board meet-
ings, the frantic telephone calls, the
desperate telegrams and notes, the
sinister activity of the ticker, didn’t
matter any more; they were things of
vital importance to her employer, but
not to her. Not any longer.
“I'd give it up,” she thought this
morning, “and live on my tiny income
if it weren't for Sally. In ten years’
time, or less, she’s sure to be married
—the pretty, pretty little thing!—and
then I can rest, if there's anything
left of me.”
She looked into her child’s bedroom
through the half-open door. A wild
April wind rioted about the room,
fluttering the curtains, the bureau
scarf, the pages of a magazine, the
flimsy little garments laid over the
back of a chair; but Sally lay in bed
asleep, tranquil as a baby. And she
had the obstinate, self-important look
of a baby too, as if she were almost
angrily determined to sleep.
“She can’t be eighteen!” thought
Mrs. Ordway. “She's a child.” She
had turned away and had started
tuietly down the stairs when a drowsy
voice called after her, “Mother!”
Sally was too sleepy to sit up, but
she stretched out her arms and Mrs.
Ordway stooped with joyous humility
to that embrace.
Mrs. Ordwav wanted to close her
eyes and rest there forever. with those
lips brushing her forehead and that
warm little arm encircling her neck:
her baby, whom she had a thousand
times assuaged and comforted, was
giving back to her in generous meas-
ure all that she had received. And
yet, all the time she was so quiet and
happy, the sense of time going bv
tormented her. A train to catch, work
to be done. Work and work!
“My darling baby, I must go!” she
said, “or I'll be late.” Sally wouldn't
let her go.
“Mother,” she said, “I--I snecially
want to be with you to-day. It’s Sat-
urdav—only a half day. Can't you
possibly stay home?”
“My dear, I can’t I—”
“Then can’t I come in and meet you
for Junch. and we'll go to a matinee
together 7”
“Oh, Sally, my baby, I wish I could!
But I shan’t finish until rather late
this afternoon. You see, I promised
Mr. Colemen to go over the lists of—?
“Never mind about it! Just don’t
do it!”
“I shouldn’t last long, at that rate,”
said Mrs. Ordway, smiling. “You
know, Sally, how much I’d like to be
with you, but I can’t. TI give you
the money, and you can take one of
your friends——"
“Mcney doesn’t take your place!”
said Sally, with a trembling lip. That
childish phrase struck Mrs. Ordway
forcibly.
“I know, Sally,” she answered, slow-
ly, “I often think of that. But—well,
we’ll have to compromise, I'm afraid I
—give you as much of my time as
possible, without sacrificing the other
things I want you to have.”
Once more she kissed her child, and
then went down to her solitary break-
fast, set ready for her by the well-
trained servant.
She gave the orders for the day with
her usual foresight and good sense, and
set out for the railway station, walk-
ing because she needed this much ex-
ercise. She looked the very model of
efficiency; a charming woman, care-
fully and modishly dressed, straight,
slender, well-poised; she walked as she
should, with her shoulders well back,
taking deep breaths of the spring
"morning. But the sweet, cool air had
for her no exhilaration; she was tired,
so terribly tired.
As she enteed the main street of the
village she saw before her the belov-
ed figure of Mrs. Morris, stout and
dowdy, in a shiny old serge suit and
a woeful hat.
“Ella!” she cried.
Mrs. Morris turned, and their eyes
met, with a strange and beautiful look
of trust and affection.
“Well, Marian!” she said, in her
dry, matter-of-fact way. “It’s of
good luck to see you at the beginning
of the day. How is Sally?”
“Rosy and well as ever. But I can’t
stop, Ella. TI’ll miss my train.” Mrs.
Morris frowned again.
“I declare, it’s a sin and a shame
that we can’t see more of each other!”
she said, “two old friends like us. But
there! We're both so busy, from
morning till night. Marian! I'm just
going to walk to the station with you,
even if it is stealing precious time.”
They set off together, Mrs. Ordway
slackening her pace to meet the more
labored gait of her friend.
“I begin to feel my years,” said
Mrs. Morris, gravely.
“Nonsense!” cried Mrs. Ordway.
“We're the same age, Ella. Forty—
that’s no age at all!”
“You may say what you like,” Mrs.
Morris persisted, obstinately,
old. And worn out. It’s the work,
Marian. = Work, "from morning till
night. That house is a regular white
elephant. Sometimes I think... .but
then, there’s Rodney—such a dear,
splendid boy! The least I can do for
him is to make him a good home.”
They discussed their children as
they walked on leisurely in the sweet
rdway was happy in
morning. Mrs.
telling of Sally’s life at school, her
studies, what the teachers had to say
of her. And then Mrs. Morris, in her
sober fashion, spoke of her son, how
well he was getting on at the bank,
how steady and serious he was.
“Oh, Ella!” cried Mrs. Ordway,
suddenly. “Do you know what I wish;
I could go on walking with you all
this day long, and talk about the chil-
dren until there wasn’t a word left in
my mind.” ri
“Shame on you!” said Mrs. Morris,
giving her arm an affectionate
squeeze. “Two middle-aged creatures
like ourselves spending a whole day in
gossip! We've got other things to
think of. .
“So here bath been dawning
Another blue day:
Think, wilt thou let it
Slip useless away ?
Out of eternity
This new day is born;
Into eternity,
At night, will return.
“Do you remember how we used to
recite that at school, Marian?
do you know, I still say it to myself,
often and often, on days when I feel
extra tired and worried. There’s Nora
Mallory, in her garden!”
Halfway down a shady street, not
in their way, not in the way of the
little town’s brisk life, was a quiet
old garden surrounded by a trim white
fence, and across its lawn, under the
elms, went walking a tall woman in
a cool dress. They waved their hands,
and she waved hers.
“Really!” said Mrs. Morris, “it’s a
terrible thing to 'see any human being
waste life as Nora does. She’s ab-
solutely idle from one year’s end to
ancther. And just think, Marian,
what a woman like Nora could do!
No children, no ties, plenty of money
and plenty of brains! And all wast-
ed! What?” she demanded, incred-
ulously. “What did you say, Mar-
ian?”
Mrs. Ordway smiled.
“Ella, I said I envied her!” she an-
swered, defiantly.
“Stuff and nonsense!” cried Mrs.
Morris. But after she left her friend
at the railway station and was walk-
ing back toward the village; her head
full of lists and distressing questions
about new curtains and whether or
not she would take advantage of that
sale and buy two dozen bars of yellow
soap and let it .dry eut, she looked
down that quiet street where Nora's
garden was, and sighed.
She sighed again as she let herself
into the house. Ten rooms, and onlv
herself and Rodney—ten rooms, all
solidly and completely furnished, and
her housewifely pride wouldn’t allow
her to lock up a single one of them.
“Upen my word,” she said to her-
self, “if it weren't for Rodnéy I'd sell
three quarters of the furniture, and
take one of those nice, new little flats
down near the post office. But, of
course. the boy wants his home—a
home he can be proud of—and he de-
serves it. He shall have it. too, ac
long as I'm able to stand on my feet!”
She tock off her shoes and put on
felt slippers, changed her street dress
for a calico one, and set to work.
First she put away the contents of
the market basket, pared potatoes and
left them soaking in a bowl of cold
water, refilled the kettle, not more coal
in the stove and opened the draft.
Then she went upstairs to the two
bedrooms they used, made the beds,
swept and dusted, put away Rodney’s
belongings, lowered the shades half-
way, and went through all the other
rooms on that floor, with an anxious
eye for the least speck of dust. Then
downstairs, in like fashion, and at last
into the kitchen again. She was
flushed and weary by this time, and
the fire she had built up made the
kitchen: insufferably hot; neverthe-
less, she mixed a cake and put it into
the oven to bake, she chopped meat
and potatoes for hash, she made cocoa-
nut icing for the cake, cracked ice for
the tea and, when the cake was done,
had a pan of corn muffins ready to
pop into the oven. So that when
Rodney came home there was a most
appetizing lunch ready for him. Direct-
ly he entered he went into the kitch-
en as a matter of course; his mother
was always there.
“Lord! It’s hot in here!” he ex-
claimed.
“I haven’t yet learned how to cook
without heat,” returned his mother,
somewhat tartly. She was so very
tired and harrassed, she had done so
much, and here the boy came in, cool
as a cucumber, to eat up in twenty
minutes what it had taken her good-
ness knows how long to prepare.
“Then why do you cook ?” he asked.
She stared at him in indignant
amazement, but she couldn’t remain
angry at Rodney. There was some-
thing in his dark young face that al-
ways stirred her to an uncomprehend-
ing sort of pity for him. She knew that
he didn’t really work very hard, not
nearly so hard as she did, and of
course he had nothing to worry about;
vet he had sometimes such a weary
look. A handsome boy, slender, with
an air of distinction about him that
now and then troubled his mother. No
one would have taken him for a bank
clerk; you might have thought him =
poet or an actor. Well! She hoped he
had no silly ideas in his head. This
was a sober, workaday world, in which
it didn’t do to expect too much.
“I dare say I'd hear from you, if
I didn’t cook!” she observed, with
grim good humor. “Come now! Go
in and sii down at the table, and I'll
bring in jour lunch in two shakes of
a lamb’s tail.”
When she entered the dining-room
with the plate of hash he was sitting
at the table, but he got up abruptly
and put his arm about her ample
waist.
“Sit down here and talk to me!” he
entreated. “I—Mother, I don’t like
you to wait on me—and work so hard
for me. I want....”
For an instant Mrs. Morris let her
“T feel | head rest on her tall boy’s shoulder.
And, |
| “Then what in the world do
want?” she asked, half laughing.
| “I want to talk to you!” he said,
vehemently. “Never mind the lunch.”
you
| She freed herself hastily, and gave
his cheek a little pat.
“Stuff -and nonsense!” she said
3
“I've forgotten how to
‘talk, ‘Rodney. Eat your lunch now;
that’s a good boy. Where "are you
' going this afternoon?
She was not looking: at him, or she
would have seen his dark face flush.
“Maybe 1'li stay home,” he an-
swered.
“Mercy me!” she cried. “The man’s
coming to take up all the rugs and
beat them, and then he’s going to
clean the windows and I meant to
cheerfully,
house. He's so busy, this is the only
time I could get him. And I was sure
you wouldn’t be home. You know you
home, I'll postpone—"’
“Never mind!” said Rodney abrupt-
ily. “I think I will go out after all.”
Mrs. Morris watched him from the
window, with a sigh and a smile. It
{ was hard enough to keep a good home
| for the boy, but it simply couldn’t -be
| done if he insisted upon staying in it
and getting in the way.
So it was that Rodney went to the
but defiant. The disquiet,
| pression that was
the op-
came that proud confidence in him-
self that was the best and finest part
of his love. When he was at home
a man, capable of any heroic effort,
practical, sensible and so fervent and
eloquent that Sally always saw as he
saw, thought as he thought.
architect, and so he would be. He had
thousand dollars. A sharp pang of
remorse shot through him, which he
tried to frown away.
“I saved up part of it,” he told
himself.
This was true; in three years he
had saved two hundred dollars, but
all the rest came to him from the
maturing of an endowment policy his
mother had taken out for him when
he was a baby. He knew very well
what it had cost her to keep that up,
all these years; how hard she had
worked how much she had denied her-
self. And how proud and happy she
had been when the check from the
insurance company was paid into his
account on his twenty-first birthday,
a week ago. n
“I know you’ll be sensible about i,”
she had said. “You've heen such a
such a comfort tc me.”
And now he was taking the money
to run off and marry Sally. He
couldn’t help thinking of his mother
with remorseful tenderness, though
he wanted to feel angry. He wante
to feel that she had thwarted and
he could not endure. When he had
told her he wanted to be an architect
she had said flatly that it was “stuff
and nonsense,” and that he should be
thankful for his position in the bank
and make up his mind to do his best
there.
“lI know she’s done a lot for me,”
he reflected. ‘And I'm grateful. But
they were all the things I didn’t want
done for me. I don’t care what I
have to eat or whether the windows
are cleaned.’ I hate that ugly, stuffy
sort of life; I always did; I wanted
eyen in his thoughts—“something
beautiful. Something beside good
meals and a nice, clean house. I
wanted to talk, but not about how
much coal costs, and things like that.
I'm so sick of all that. So sick of
getting up every morning and going
to the bank, and coming home at
night. and never seeing anything—
beautiful. Sally’s the onlv one on
earth who understands. Perhaps it
isn’t very fair to ask her—she’s so
it may be quite a long time before I'm
successful. But I can’t help it.’
He had turned off the road now, in-
to a neglected old orchard that was
“desirable building lots” before long.
He hated the thought of the mean lit-
tle houses that would stand here in
place of this sweet and tranquil love-
if this were his land, and he could
build on it a house for himself and
Sally.
He was sc lost in this vision that
he didn’t observe Sally, who was sit-
ting on the low branch of a gnarled,
bent tree, with the sun striking
throgh the little new leaves and mak-
ing her fair head marvelously bright.
She saw him though, saw he was
scowling, absorbed in thought; and,
by no means for the first time, a chill
of dread seized her.
“Oh, I do love Rodney!” she
thought. “I do! But he’s so strange,
sometimes. So awfully different
from me. He doesn’t care for nice,
little things. He's so wonderful and
high-minded. And I'm not. Oh!
Suppose I'm a terrible disappointment
to him, as I'll be to Mother? Nobody
knows how petty I am! I've tried
not to be, I've tried to study but no-
body can imagine how I’ve hated and
loathed and dreaded the idea of go-
ing to college. I'm not ambitious, not
one bit. The thing I’d have liked
best would have been for Mother to
stay home and let me be with her just
doing silly little things all day long,
sewing, and fixing up little salads for
ourselves and talking.”
But presently she was consoled by
the thought that when she was with
Rodney she didn’t feel like that.
“Rodney needs me, and. Mother
doesn’t. Mother. ...I must not think
about Mother! If Id gone to college
I'd have had to leave her, and she
could bear that. She never minded
being away from me all day long.
She never even knew how terribly 1
(Contnued on page 6, Col. 1.)
He smiled when he thought of her. |
Her utter faith in him was the most |
wonderful thing on earth; she didn’t
think he was fit for nothing but to be |
a bank clerk all his life; she was sure |
that he was going to be a celebrated |
dear, good boy, Rodney, all your life; |
voung—and I'm rather voung too, and |
, destined to be cleared and cut up into |
put up fresh curtains all over the,
never are on Saturday afternoons. But !
of course, if you do want to stay |
meeting place. no longer reluctant, |
very like guilt. |
vanished as he walked on, and back |
he felt so very young: he was a boy; |
but when he was with Sally he was
enough money to marry on now, two |
hampered him, holding him to a life
ee
t
Publication of Copy - of - Petition
and Decree of Court and Rule
Therein Contained, with Notice
to Persons Interested.
ep.
In the Matter of the Petition of BALTI-
MORE YEARLY MEETING OF FRIENDS
(ORTHODOX), a corporation created and
existing under the laws of the State of
Maryland, for its appointment as succeed-
ing trustee of the Meeting House Proper-
ty and Burial Ground, situate in the Bor-
ough of Bellefonte, in the County of Cen-
tre and State of Pennsylvania, and any
other property and assets of what was
formerly the Centre Monthly Meeting of
I'riends. nein
In the Court of Common Pleas of Cen-
tre County, Pennsylvania. No. 195 May
Term, 1927.
To the HONORABLE JAMES C. FURST,
President Judge of the said Court:—
The petition of BALTIMORE YEARLY
MEETING OF FRIENDS (ORTHODOX),
respectfully represents:
First— That it is a corporation duly in-
corporated and existing under the laws of
the State of Maryland and so incorporat-
ed by Act of the General Assembly of the
State of Maryland, entitled “An Act to
incorporate the Baltimore Yearly Meeting
of Friends (Orthodox),” approved April
7, 1886, being Acts of 1886, Chapter 327,
which Act of Assembly in its entirety
reads as follows:
Section 1. Be it enacted by the Gener-
al Assembly of Maryland, That b rancis T.
King, James Carey, James Carey Thomas,
Joseph P. Elliott, Francis White, Jesse
Tyson, Chas. W. Davis, Simon J. Marten-
et, James Carey, Jr., Joseph Edge, George
L. Scott, John B. Crenshaw, John Pret-
low, Thomas McCoy and Zachariah Me-
Naul, and all those persons now con-
stituting the religious Society known as
the “Baltimore Yearly Meeting of Friends
for the Western Shore of Maryland, Vir-
ginia and the adjacent parts of Pennsyl-
vania, in unity with the Ancient Yearly
Meeting of Friends,” who now hold their
yearly Meeting on Eutaw Street in the
City of Baltimore, and all those persons
who may hereafter become members there-
of, agreeably to the rules and discipline of
said Society, or such rules and disci-
pline as may hereafter be adopted there-
by, be and they are hereby created a
body politic and corporate by the name of
the Baltimore Yearly Meeting of Friends
(Orthodox), and by that name shall have
perpetual succession, and be able and
capable to sue and be sued at law and
in equity, to have a common seal,
and the same to change, altar
and renew at pleasure, and to do
all acts necessary and lawful for carry-
ing into effect the objects and purposes
of the aforesaid Society, and they are
* bereby authorized and empowered to re-
ceive and hold by gift, grant, devise,
purchase, or otherwise, real and person-
al estate and other effects and property,
and the same to - grant, mortgage, de-
mise or otherwise dispose of, the whole
or any part or parts thereof; provided,
the clear yearly incme from the prop-
erty of said Corporation shall not ex-
ceed the sum of twenty-five thousand
dollars.
Section 2. And be it enacted, That the
objects of the Corporation hereby ecreat-
ed are for the adoption and carrying
out the rules and discipline of the re-
ligious Society of Friends, who now
hold their Yearly Meeting on Eutaw
Street, in the City of Baltimore, and for
the carrying out such religious, educa-
tional and charitable work as that in
which the said Society of Friends has
been or may hereafter be engaged.
Section 3. And be it enacted, That the
rules and discipline of the said Society
of Friends, as laid down in its last Book
of Discipline, adopted by said Yearly
Meeting in. the year eighteen hundred
and seventy-six. shall be the rules and
discipline of the Corporation hereby
created, and the same may be altered
and changed in such manner as has been
or may hereafter be adopted by said
Yearly Meeting.
Section 3. And. be it enacted. That
this Act shall take effect from the date
of its passage.
Approved April 7, 1886.
Second.—That for a great number of
years and in the year 1834 and subsequent
thereto the legal title to the Meeting
House property whereon was and is erect-
ed a Meeting House constituting the
church formerly of the said Centre Month-
ly Meeting of Friends, in the Borough of
Bellefonte, in the County of Centre, and
State of Pennsylvania, and the burial
ground of said Centre Monthly Meeting of
Friends, situate in the same place, was
held under a deed dated the twenty-see-
ond day of the tenth month (commonly
known as the month of October) in the
year of our Lord one thousand eight hun-
dred and thirty four, recorded in the office
for the recording of deeds, &c. in and for
the said County of Centre on the twenty-
fourth day of October, A. D. 1839 in Deed
. Book M. page, 432, et seq., being a deed
liness; he imagined how it would be |
|
from George Valentine and Mary, his wife,
something—” he frowned again with | Reuben B. Valentine and Sarah, his wife,
a boyish shame at using that word, |
Abraham $8. Valentine and Clarissa, his
wife, Bond Valentine and Tzgia, his wife,
and William A. Thomas and Eliza, his
wife, of the first part, and Isaac Miller.
of the second part, conveying to the said
Isaac Miller, the party of the second part,
and to his heirs, according to the course
of the common law of England and his as-
signs in trust nevertheless. as thereinafter
in said deed set forth, the said premises
therein described as follows, to wit:
“ALL thut certain lot or piece of land
situate in Bellefonte, bounded on the
East by lot of Hugh McGonigle, on the
West by James D. Harris Mill tract
with a Friends Meeting house thereon
erected: Beginning at a post on the line
of said Mill tract thence North seventy
five degrees East eighty eight and a half
feet to a post, thence South twenty-five
degrees East eighty eight feet to Me-
Gonigle’s lot to a post; thence South
forty degrees West sixteen feet by the
road leading from Bellefonte to Harris
Mill sixteen feet to a post, thence North
twenty five degrees West twenty feet to
a post thence south sixty degrees west
seventy-two feet to a postin the line of
said Mill tract, thence North twenty-five
West one hundred & two feet to the place
of beginning; also a certain lot or piece of
land situate on the Northern Border of
the Forge tract adjoining a lot of Doc.
Daniel Dobbins on the North and in-
closed by a stone wall occupied and de-
signed as a place of Burial.” “ln trust
nevertheless to and for the use, benefit
and advantage of the religious society of
the people called Quakers belonging to
Centre Monthly Meeting, held at Belle-
fonte in Perpetual succession forever.”
Third.—That subsequent to the death of
the said Isaac Miller, on petition to your
Honorable Court of ¥liza M. Thomas and
others, all the then members of the Cen-
tre Monthly Meeting of Friends, to No.
33 August Term, 1901, under the following
caption, viz. “In the matter of the Peti-
tion of the Members of Centre Monthly
Meeting of Friends, for the appointment
of new trustees of the Meeting House
property and Burial Ground, in the place
and stead of Isaac Miller, deceased ’ by
decree of your Honorable Court dated and
filed in said proceeding May 1, 1901, your
Honorable Court entered the following de-
cree:
“And now May 1, 1901, the foregoing
petition read and considered, whereupon
the Court does hereby grant the prayer
thereof and does hereby appoint George
Valentine, Jr., Edmund Blanchard and
Joseph D. Mitchell, Trustees of the Cen-
tre Monthly Meeting of Friends and of
the Meeting House Property and Burial
Ground and all the premises mentioned
and described in the aforementioned
deed conveying the same to Issac Miller,
Trustee, dated October 22nd, A. D. 1834,
and recorded in the office for the record-
in of deeds, &c. in and for Centre County,
Pennsylvania, in Deed Book “M,” page
432 &c., the said Trustees being hereby
appointed in the place and stead of the
said Isaac Miller, deceased, with all the
powers and title, duties and obligations
originaly vested in and imposed upon
the said Isaac Miller by virtue of the
said deed, and this appointment being
made without requiring any bond from
said Trustees.
By the Court.”
Fourth.— That by their deed dated
September 4, 1898, and recorded in the of-
fice for the recording of deeds, &c.,in and
for the said County of Centre on February
8, 1809 in Deed Book 75, page 695 &c.,
George Valentine and Emily J, his wife,
-borah D. Valentine, George Valentine,
Abram: §.. Valentine and Lillie U.,. his wife,
Mary V. Hale, Robert Valentine and Mary
N., his wife, Mary B. J. Valentine, Anna
J. Valentine, Caroline M. Valentine, De-
x,
Jacob D. Valentine, Jr., Louise M. Valen-
tine, Ellen D. Valentine, Robert Valentine,
Jr. and John P. Harris, Trustee, conveyed
to George Valentine, Jr. and Edmund
Blanchard, Jr., and to their successors
and assigns, the said premises therein de-
scribed as follows:
ALL that certain tract of ground sit-
uate in the Township of Spring, in the
County of Centre and State of Pennsyl-
vania aforesaid, bounded and described
as follows, to wit: Beginning at a post
north of an oak pointer, on the south-
ern line of the said Borough of Belle-
fonte at the northwestern corner of the
farm tract, other land of the said par-
ties of the first part, thence along said
Borough line south seventy seven and
one-fourth degrees west twenty two and
four-tenths perches to stones, thence by
land now or formerly of the Valentine
Iron Company south twelve and three-
fourths degrees east thirteen perches to
stones, north of dead pine pointer,
thence by same lands north eighty three
and one-fourth degrees east sixteen and
five tenths perches to post, the north-
western corner of what is known as the
Workmens Cemetery, thence by same
north seventy seven degrees east six and
two-tenths perches to the western line
of said farm tract, and thence by said
line north eleven and one-fourth degrees
west fourteen and six-tenths perches to
the beginning; containing one acre and
onc hundred and forty perches more or
less, and. alse containing a graveyard
on about forty five perches of ground
surrounded by a stone wall;” “in {rust
nevertheless to and for the use and bene-
fit and advantage of the religions society
of the people called ‘Quakers’ belonging
to the Centre Mor‘hly Meeting held at
Bellefonte, in perpetual succession for-
ever, to he used as a place of burial un-
der the direction and control of the said
Centre Monthly Meeting.”
Fifth.— That in and by the last will and
testament of Mary V. Hale, late of the
Borough of Bellefonte, in the County of
Centre and State of Pennsylvania, deceas-
ed, dated November 12, 1900, and probated
before the Register of Wills for Centre
County, Pennsylvania, at Bellefonte, Pa.
and remaining on file in the office of the
said Register and therein recorded in Will
Book E, page 541, &c. the said testatrix
made a bequest as follows, to wit:
“I give and bequeath unto the Trustee
or Trustees of Centre Monthly Meeting of
Friends, Bellefonte, Penna., or to the per-
son, persons or body corporate, holding
the legal title to the Meeting House and
grave-yard properties of said Monthly
Meeting, at the time of my decease, or in
whom the legal title to said properties
may then or shall thereafter be vested,
his, her, or their successors, the sum of
One thousand dollars ($1,000) to be paid
by my executors, hereinafter named,
within three years after my decease, in-
terest on said sum of one thousand dol-
lars, to be likewise paid by my said exeec-
utors from the date of my death until
the aforesaid payment of the said prin-
cipal sum, at the rate of five per cent.
per annum thereon, payable yearly, the
first payment of said interest to fall due
one year from and after my decease; in
trust nevertheless to invest the said sum
of one thousand dollars on good and
sufficient security to keep the same thus
invested from time to time to.collect the
income and profits arising therefrom
and to appropriate said income and prof-
its from time to time together with the
interest to be received from my said ex-
ecutors prior to the payment of the said
principal sum as aforesaid, in manner
following, to wit: First, to the preser-
vation in good order and condition at all
times of the graves of my grandmother,
Ann Bond Valentine, my father, mother
and brothers, in the graveyard of the
said Centre Monthly Meeting; and sec-
ond, to use whatever remains of said in-
come and profits each year after paying
for the proper care of these graves, for
the care and maintenance of the Meet-
ing House property of the said Centre
Monthly Meeting in such manner as the
said Centre Monthly Meeting shall di-
rect; it being, however, a condition of
this trust that these graves shall at all
times thus be cared for out of the -in-
come and profits from this fund as a
superior and primary charge: thercon,
and that only so much of said income
and profits shall be appropriated each
year to the aforesaid uses of the Meet-
ing as remain after paying the expen-
ses and charges for such care of the said
graves: the said bequest fo ferminate
and the entire fund to revert 10 my es-
tate in ease of a failure at any time to
comply faithfully with the terms of this
condition.”
Sixth.—That on or about April 4, 1902,
the above named George Valentine. Jr.
Edmund Blanchard and Joseph DD. Mitch-
ell, Trustees of the Centre Monthly Meet-
ing of Friends, received payment of the
above mentioned legacy from Ellen Hale
Andrews and George Murray Andrews,
Executors of the last will and testament
of the said Mary V. Hale, deceased, since
which time the principal amount of said
fund viz. $1000., had heen invested bv
said Trustees and the income derivable
therefrom collected and disposed of by
said Trustees. .
Seventh.—That in later years, because of
deaths, changes of residence and for other
reasons, the membership of the said
Monthly meeting became very small and
attendance of meetings for worship in said
meeting house and of business meetings
of the said Monthly Meeting became small-
er and smaller, until such meetings for
worship entirely ceased, and it became
impracticable for said Monthly meeting to
function as the local organization of the
said religious denomination; whereupon
by appropriate action by the said
Yearly Meeting, the chief governing
body, in accordance with the views
of the remaining members of said Month-
ly Meeting, and in accordance with the
rules and discipline of the. said Yearly
Meeting, the said Centre Monthly Meeting
was formally “laid down” or discontinued
and thereby ceased to exist, on or about
May 5th 1919. .
Eighth.—That for many years last past
the said Joseph D. Mitchell, one. of the
Trustees above named has permanently
resided in Lewistown, Mifflin County,
Pennsylvania and, as your petitioner is in-
formed, has affiliated with the Protestant
Episcopal Church of America; and that
for a number of years past the said Ed-
mund Blanchard or Edmund Blanchard,
Jr., another of said Trustees, has been liv-
ing in the State of Texas, so that the said
George Valentine, Jr., is the only one of
said Trustees now residing in Bellefonte,
Centre County, Pennsylvania, and the
only active Trustee.
Ninth.—That the said individual church,
board or agency of the said religious or-
ganization known as the Baltimore Yearly
Meeting of Friends (Orthodox), that is to
say, the said Centre Monthly Meeting of
Friends, has thus become extinct.
Tenth.—That for the reasons above set
forth, it has become impracticable for the
said Trustees to fulfill or comply with
the conditions of the bequest under the
said will of Mary V. Hale, deceased, as
set forth in the paragraph hereof number-
ed, Fifth, and that, therefore, it is the de-
sire of the remaining former members. of
the said Centre Monthly Meeting of
Friends and of your petitioner and of the
said Trustees that the said Trustees be
authorized to declare the termination of
said trust and the reversion of the said
principal fund constituting the corpus of
said trust, to the estate of the said Mary
V. Hale, deceased, in accordance with the
terms of her will, and be authorized to
pay over or transfer to the executors of
the said Mary V. Hale, deceased, the said
principal fund, in termination of said
trust and satisfaction thereof, or that their
acts in doing so be ratified and confirmed,
and that thereupon the said Trustees shall
be released and discharged from all ob-
ligations arising relative to said trust
fund.
Eleventh.—That for the reasons above
set forth, it is also the desire of the said
remaining former members of the said Cen-
tre Monthly Meeting of Friends and of
your petitioner and of the said Trustees,
that upon their release and discharge from
the said trust fund referred to in the par-
agraph hereof numbered Fifth, the said
Trustees shall also be released and dis-
charged from all remaning trusts under
their trusteeship, and particularly from
the trusts relative to the Meeting House
property and Burial Ground, referred to
in the paragraph hereof numbered Sec-
ond, and the additional Burial Ground
referred to in the pargraph hereof num-
i bered © Fourth; and - that. thereupon” your
Julia B. Robinson,
petitioner shall be appointed by your
Honorable Court in the place and stead of
the said above mentioned Trustees, as
Trustee of Ale Individual ehwrch; “board
or agency, that ig to say, of the said Cen-
tre Monthly Sreculle of Friends and of
all the said remaining trusts relative
thereto. :
Twelfth.—That under the constitutio
and discipline governing the said Balti
more Yearly Meeting of Friends (Ortho-
dox), among other things it is provided
that “when a meeting is discontinued the
property belonging to said
general work of
Phat DL Sefermities
nds he y such discontinu
shall be administered in RE eeuns
the directions of the original donors :”
and that the Yearly Meeting shall have ‘a
Permanent Board (also called the Repre-
Meeting) whose duty,
er things, is to
necessary, titles
belonging to any Meeting.”
s Thirteenth.—That your petitioner, dur-
grounds thereof, wag an
judicatory with which Ry
been connected, ang und
a corporation is d
Trustee as aforesai
Fo urteenth.—That,
is the superior
said church hag
er its charter ag
ily qualified to aet as
as herein set
ih by reason thereof, the Sat in
Monthly Meeting of Friends has become
extinct, and its property is liable to be
wasted or destroyed.
WHEREFORE, your i Tre;
fully pass as 3) hi petitioner respect-
A. That the said George Valentine
Edmund Blanchard or Edmund Pane
Jr. and Joseph D, Mitchell, as Trustees as
aforesaid, be authorized to declare “the
of said trust
doing so
that said
fund, or
be ratified and confirmed, and
all obligations
forth in the paragraph
h
B. That
from the
aragra 3
tion numbered aap Difloranis a
C. That thereupon your iti
g petitioner sh
Drum Fob Honorable Sout 8)
D Stead of the saiq vi
Jentioned three original trustees, ave
Izgs ee of the said individual church
hoara or agency, that is to say, of the said
Autre Monthly Meeting of Friends and of
all the then remaining trusts relative
and eulatly of the trusts rel-
3 ouse pro
Eurial Ground referred to > Od
graph of this petition numbered Second,
Burialr
ance with the Act
Commonwealth of Pen i p
the seventeenth day ania To
of May, A. D.
(Pamphlet Laws, page’ 861, &) roi
cordance with any other Act of Assembly
in such case made and provided. .
AND your petitioner will ever pray, &e
BALTIMORE YEARLY ME \G
FRIENDS (ORTHODOX) Si hid
By Thomas W. vy. Clark
Clerk of the Permanent Board.
Sas u Maryland, City of Baltimore, SS:
n the 11th day of Ma A... D. 2 -
fore me, the subscriber, y Nol 10% be
in and for the said State, personally ap-
peared the above named Thomas W. Y,
Clark, who being duly aflirmed according
to law says that he is Clerk of the Per-
manent Board of the Baltimore Yearly
Meeting of Friends (Orthodox), the above
named petitioner, that he makes this af-
Pdavit for oi on hobait of the said peti-
r, th € 1s well acquainte '¢
facts set forth in the Se ifeg unin
and’ belief.
Affirmed ang subscribed to before me th
day and year above written. * ue
THOMAS W. Y. CLARK.
Notary Publie,
My Commission expires
S May 6 2
[Notary's Seal] ly 6, 1929,
DECREE.
And now May 13th 1927, ihe foregoing
petition presented and directed to be tiled
and the Court hereby grants a rule upon.
all parties interested to show cause why
the prayers of the foregoing petition.
should not be granted, which rule js made
returnable on Tuesday the twelfth day of
July A. D. 1927, at ‘the Court House in
Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, at ten o'clock
A.M, and it is hereby directed that a
copy of the foregoing petition and of this
decree (which decree contains said rule se
that ad copy thereof includes a copy of
said rule), be published by the said Peti-
tioner for four Successive weeks in one
newspaper of “general circulation of the
said County of Centre, published in the
Borough of Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, and
that on the said return day of said rule
at said time and place a full hearing of
the said matter will be had by the said
Court to enable it to make such order in
the case as shall be most likely to pre-
serve the property of the said Centre
Monthly Meeting of Friends in the inter-
ests of the denomination, according to the
uses to which it was intended to be de-
voted, and to determine all other matters
involved in the prayers of the said peti-
tion, at which time and place all persons
interested may be heard. :
By the Court \
JAMES C. FURST
Pr
Notice of the feregoing copy of pe-
titien, decree and rule, is hereby giv-
en to all persons interested who are
hereby notified that they may appear
and be heard hy the court at tha time
and place named in the above men-
tioned decree.
BLANCHARD & BLANCHARD,
Attorneys for Petitioner.
72-21-4t
Makes Golden Flute to Find Pure
Tone. !
’
A use of gold, or even platinum,
as the metal for manufacturing flutes
is recommended as a medium for per-
fect tone by Prof. Dayton C. Miller
of Case School, Cleveland, Ohio. Prof.
Miller explained in a recent lecture
in New York City that the tone qual-
ity of the flute improved with the in-
crease in density of the material.
Prof. Miller's gold flute, so he reports,
therefore has a rich tone that cannot
be achieved by any other instrument.
The Boston Symphony Orchestra oc-
casionally sends a messenger to Prof.
Miller to borrow the flute when a
concert is contemplated in which es- .
pecially golden tones are required.
Platinum is a still more dense ma-
terial than gold, and so will make an
even more admirable flute, according
to Prof. Miller. He is contemplating
the manufacture of such an instru-
ment in order to achieve the final per-
fection in flute tones.
A collection of 711 flutes, said to
be the finest collection of these im-
struments in the world, was display-
ed by the scientist in connection with
the lecture, which was under the aus-
pices of the Museum of the Peaceful
Arts.
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