6 FROM THE HILLTOP. Twas a weary climb from the valley below, T»ns a weary climb! Tb* (tones were sharp, the way was steep. Ther« seemed bat a harvest of tears to reap. T*as a weary climb Up the mountain side, "Ticas a weary climb! *Mld cares that vexed and words that ■tune. Ttfjfl tears that (towed, and songs unsung, Tiras a weary climb UP the mountain side! And still they come >'rom the valley below. And still they come! With bleeding feet, and tortured soul, They are toiling on for the longed-for goal. And still they come from the valley below! Tts a long way down To the valley below, "Tis a long way down! A cloud by day. a star by night, Guide their feet to the top of the mountain height. •Tis a long way down To the valley below! From the blessed heights To the valley below, from Ihe blessed heights! These wearied ones will all look down When the cross is changed to the victor's crown, Arid the blessed heights for the valley below! —Patience Penfold, In Indies' World. si*,-*™. lcopyright. 1807, by Longmans, Green & Co.] SYNOPSIS. Chapter I—D'Auriac, commanding out post where scene is laid, tells the story, De Gomeron has been appointed by Gen. <3e Rone to examine Into a charge made •gainst him. Nicholas, a sergeant, brings In two prisoners, a man and a woman, who •re from the king's camp at I>e Fere. D'Auriac.angered by insulting manner of de Gomeron toward the woman, strikes him. A duel follows, and during the commotion the prisoners escape. I>e Hone happens on the disorderly scene, and d'Auriac, upon giving his parole not to attempt escape, hears this remarkable sentence: "To-mor row you must die on the field. Win or lone, if I catch you at the close of the day, 1 will hang you as high as Haman." Chapter ll—D'Auriac next morning takes ht* place as usual on de Rone's staff. In the course of his ride over the Held he .saves the life of Nicholas, the sergeant, who, a victim of de Gomeron's malice, is found in Imminent danger of almost inatant death. Chapter 111—After the battle in which Kir.g Henry utterly routs de Hone's forces, •i'Auriac. lying severely wounded, sees the forms of a man and woman moving under cover of the night among the dead and wounded. They find a golden collar on tie Leyva's corpse, and liabettte .stabs Mauguiot (her partner) to gain possession of the prize. After this hideous scene Henry with a retinue, among whom is the fair prisoner who had escaped from the hard of de Gomeron, rides over the field. Chapter IV—D'Auriac in the hospital of Stc. ffienevleve discovers his unknown friend is tlie heiress of Bidache. She vis its iiicn daily, and when he i.s well enough 1» tiker. to her N'ormamly chateau. Here Ibe learns from Maitre I'alin, the madame's Chaplain, that the king i.s about to force upon the woman a very distasteful rnar riage with M. d'Ayen. With Jacques, his aie-ward, d'Auriac leaves for the avowed purpose of preventing their marriage. Chapter V—D'Auriac's horse casts a nhjt. This causes a delay at village of Kzy, where he comes upon Nicholas, his old sergeant, who says de Gomeron is in the neighborhood with the king's commis sion* and that he (Nicholas) has evidence of trf-Mor. brewing amor.g de Gomeron and certain associates against the king. Chapter VI—I-ed by Nicholas, d'Auriac sots by night lo where de Gomeron is sta tioned. Standing beside a broken pane they hear something of the outline of a plot «sKiiu3t tho king. Burning with revenge, Nicholas tires through the window at de Gomeron, hut misses his mark. Chapter \" 11 —The two men fly for their lives, atid think themselves almost beyond pursuit when they come suddenly face lo face with two troopers, one of whom ■ti'Auria. wounds; slightly. Cll A PTE II YII. —CONTINUED. He was a good swordsman, but this made liim beside himself with passion, and this frantic state and the sound of his voice as lie kept cursing me, told me that my opponent was none other than Kiron himself. Now came a seri ous difficulty, which I had to consider like lightning. Did I kill him, and he was an infant in my hands, there could tie no hope forme —he was too great loo highly placed for me to have any chance if I compassed his death. There fore as I pressed him, I called out loud enough for him to hear: "Marshal, you are mad; go back —you are known to me." He thrust at me for answer, but 1 could stand no more nonsense, and. get ting within his guard, struck him off his horse with a blow from the hilt of my sword, and, wasting not a second more on him, turned to the assistance of Nicholas. Jt was much needed, for the ser geant's opponent was none other than tie Gomeron himself. How Nicholas held his own against this finished ewordsnian for even so long a period as half a minute, I am unable to say. It was doubtless due to the strength of his bitler hatred and his fury for re venge. Even as it was I was too late. As I dashed towards him Nicholas fair ly screamed out: "i.eave him to me—he is—a —ah!" He never finished, for de Gomeron saw his chance, and passed his sword through the sergeant's throat, and he fell limply from Couronne, a dead man. Ketore, however, the free lance could recover himself, I was on him, and standing in my stirrups, cut at him with the full swing of my sword. lie parried like lightning, but the force of the blow beat down his guard, and although my blade fell flat upon his steel cap, he went down like an ox. Poor Nicholas was gone! I knew that thrust, and once received there was nothing for it but masses for th» aoul. A half-dozen troopers were not 200 yards away, and life lay on the other side of the I>ure. I went straight on, and jumped my horse into the siream. It was running high and deep, and as 1 fell into the water with a splash and hiss of white foam around me, I heard another heavy plunge close to my shoul der, and in the glance I cast toward the sound, saw that it was the now riderless Couronne, who had followed her com panion of the night. To ease the horse, I slipped from the saddle and, hanging onto the pommel, was towed along by him as the good beast breasted the stream bravely. The current set to ward the opposite bank, and the force of it carried us down, it seemed in a moment, fully 50 yards from the spot where he had plunged in, to within a few feet of the opposite shore. Here, however, the river ran strong and swift ly, the bank was high, and the horses could make 110 headway, but kept drift ing down. By this time the troopers had reached the scene of the fight, and I could hear them howling with anger as they gathered around their fallen leaders, and, without a head to guide them, hesitated what to do, each mo ment of delay giving me precious time, and bringing me closer to a shelving bank a few yards to the left. Not one of the troopers dared the stream, and they had apparently emptied their ar quebuses after us in pursuit, for none fired, although they called to each other: "shoot him down —shoot him down!" A couple of men galloped down stream a little below me, and dismounting, be gan to load hurriedly, it being evidently their intention to pick me off as I drift ed past. For the moment 1 gave myself up for lost; but determining to make a last effort to save myself, made a snatch at the willows that overhung the bank, and brushed us with their wet and drip pingleaves, as we struggled underneath. As I did this,l loosed my hold of the saddle, and the horses slid past me, and I was dragged by the current right into the bank. The willows were tough, and I held onto them like a leech, and the troopers who had seen what I was about began to laugh at me, and adjured me to hold on tight as they would be ready to shoot in a moment. The fools! They gave me the moment's time I wanted, and digging my foot into the soft bank, L laid hold of the stem of a willow and with an effort reached the shore. I rolled over at full length, and then lay flat on my face, whilst the troopers with many curses ran forward a few feet and let off their arquebuses on the off chance of bringing me down. They aimed truly enough, ami had 1 not lain to earth as I didj 1 should infallibly have been killed, for the bullets whizzed past, it seemed but a few inches above me. I let out a yell as if I was mortally hurt, and then rising ran down stream behind the willows as fast as my bruised leg would allow me, to see if I could not get back one or both tli|e horses. My stratagem had the desired effect, for on my cry of"I am dead —I am dead," two others of the men who had run up to let off their pieces where I was supposed to be, and they all shouted: "We have him —he is down." "Morbleau! Not yet," I could hardly refrain from chuckling to myself, as 1 hobbled along the bank, and to my joy saw them in a little bay, about a hun dred paces from me, moving slowly in the shallow water, one bellii#l the other, towards the land. A spur had been thrown out here, evidently with the ob ject of protecting the bank, and it hail cast the main stream 011 the opposite shore, and given the beasts a chance of landing. I felt my log 1 at ea-ch stop I took; lint wont on at a round pace somehow, and came up to Couronne just as she was stepping 1 out of the water. Catching her by the bridle, although with some difficulty, and slipping my hand through the reins of my own nag, trotted off under cover of the trees, leaving M.de Gomeron, who had doubt less recovered by this time, and his men to make a target of the darkness. I had come through somehow, but 1 was sick and sore at heart as I urged Cour onne from a trot to a gallop, when 1 thought of poor Nicholas lying dead by the banks of the Eure. CHAPTER VIII. M. IJE PREAULX. I kept off the road as far as possible to avoid being tracked. Even if no further attempt to follow me was made to-night, which was uncertain, as de Gomeron was not the man to let the barest chance slip through his fingers, vet there was 110 doubt as to what would happen 011 the morrow. I congratu lated myself 011 having crippled the last of the sleuth hounds, as my gentlemen would be placed thereby in a difficulty in regard to my route, and if they scoured the country in twos and threes 1 felt confident of being able, with Jacques' aid, to give a good account of myself did we meet, despite my bruised leg, which reminded me of itself un pleasantly. As I patted Couronne's neck I thought of Nicholas, and with the memory of him the face of Marie came up. 1 felt myself in a measure responsible for his death, and was resolved to weigh out in full to Marie the payment 1 had prom ised them both. It was a debt 1 would discharge to the end of the measure. A sense of relief came to my mind with this resolve, and, as Kouvres could not be far distant I slackened pace to let the horses breathe a trifle, and be gan to hastily plan my future course of action on reaching I'aris. I had not only discovered what was evidently a deep and widely spread plot, but had also stumbled <lll the dreadful secret of the death of the woman who was to be queen of France in name, as she was in reality. It was certain that she had been foully murdered. It was certain that the king's most trusted captain and many of his greatest nobles were hilt deep in treachery—so much I knew. I had seen wit h mineown eyes, and heard j with mine own ears, but beyond this j I had no proofs; and what would my j word weigh against theirs! Ili-sidcs i this, there was my own trouble. | D'Ayen's mocking warning was explicit enough, when read with l'alin's con- J fidence, and »ny doubt I may have had 1 on that point was almost set at rest by CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 1899. what I had overheard. In short, I was the rival of the king, and felt my head very loose upon my neck. What was Ito do? It was no easy matter to decide; but I came to the con clusion that my best course was to seek out the all-powerful Sully, tell him what 1 knew, and beg the help of that great man.l did :>ot know him, ex cept by repute; but my case was strong and my cause good. I would delay not a moment about this on reaching Paris; but it was Rouvres I had to come to first, and many a league lay for reflec tion between i le and the Louvre. At last I heard the Lauds chime sol emnly out into the night, and in a few minutes pulled up the weary beasts be fore the gates of Rouvres. Here I found a difficulty I might have anticipated. The gates were shut and the unpleasant prospect of a dreary wait of some hours Jay before me. This was not to be borne, and I raised a clamor that might have awakened the dead. It had the desired effect of rousing the watch at the gate, a wicket was opened, the light of a lantern flashed through, and a gruff voice bade me begone. "Open," I roared, "open in the king's name." "Pardieu! monsieur, the gates are kept shut in the king's name, and his majesty does not like his subjects' rest being disturbed," answered another \oiee, and from its tone and inflection 1 guessed it was that of an officer. "In that case, monsieur," 1 said, "let me in so that we may both goto our beds, and a thousand apologies for dis turbing you. My servant is already at the Grand Cerf, and one man cannot take Rouvres." "112 hen you are that M.de Preaulx of the Anjoumois, whose lackey Jacques Pisson arrived last night—for it is morning now?" "Vou keep good watch, monsieur, who else should 1 be?" I said with an in ward "thank heaven" at the accident that had discovered to me my new name. There was 110 reply for a moment, though I heard some one laughing, and the rays of the light were cast to the right and to the left of me to see that 1 was really alone. Finally orders were given for my admission. The gates went open with a creaking, and I was within Itouvres. As I rode in I stopped to thnnk the officer for his courtesy, and the light being very clear he observed my con dition, and exclaimed: "Diable! But you have ridden far, monsieur, and with a led horse, too!" "I ride in the king's name, monsieur," I replied, a little coldly, and, thanking him once more, was seized with an in spiration, and begged the favor of his company at dinner at the Grand ( erf. "With pleasure, monsieur. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Chevalier d'Aubusson, lieutenant of M. de Sancy's company of ortionnance." I raised my hat in response. "Jlis majesty has no braver sword than M. de Saney. At 12, then, monsieur, 1 shall have the pleasure of meeting you ing!" "Adieu!" he answered; "I will be punctual. The Grand C'arf is but a couple of hundred toises to your right." As I rode up the narrow and ill-paved street I heard d'Aubusson whistling a 'catch as he turned into the guurdroom, and congratulated myself on my strata gem and the luck that hail befriended it. I knew enough of court intrigue to be aware that De Saney and the mar shal were at each other's throats, and that I could therefore always get pro tection here by declaring myself against liiron. Then came a short turn to the right, and M.de I'reaulx, of the Anjou mois, was at the door of the Grand Ccrf. It opened to my knock, and Jacques, faithful knave, was in waiting. After this there followed the usual little delay and bustle consequent on a new arrival. As I dismounted Jacques whispered in my ear: "You are M.de Preaulx, of Sauinnr, in the Anjoumois, monsieur." "So M. d'Aubusson tells me," 1 re plied in the same tone, and then louder: "But you might have made a mess of it, Jacques—however, you meant, well, and I owe you five crowns for your good in tentions. Now call mine host, and tell him to show me to my rooms, whilst you see to the horses." Mine host was already there, in slip pered feet, with a long candle in one hand and a cup of warmed Komanee in tlie other, lie led the way with many bows, and I limped after him to a room which was large and comfortable enough. "Here is some mulled IJomanee for monsieur le baron," he said as he hand ed me the goblet. "His lordship, the count, will observe that the best room has been kept for him, and later on 1 will have the pleasure of setting the finest dinner in France before the most noble marquis—good night, monsei gneur —good night and good dreams," and he tottered oft', leaving me to drink the mulled wine, which was superb, and to sleep the sleep of the utterly tveary. It was la'te when I awoke and found Jacques in my room attending to my things. The rest had done my leg good, although it was still stiff, and the wear r .rig of u long boot painful. As 1 fin ished my toilet 1 asked my man: "Horses ready?" "They will be by the time monsieur has dined. I shall put the valises on the nag we got at Kvreaux for you." "ltight, Morbleu! 1 hear M. d'Aubus son below. It is very late." "it has just gone the dinner hour." I hurried downstairs, leaving Jarques to pack, and was only just in time to receive my guest. "A hundred pardons, monsieur; but I overslept myself." "'Tis a sleepy place," he answered; "there is nothing to do but to sleep." I "Surely thile is something to love." | "Not a decent ankle under a petti ! coat." I "At any rate we can eat. Come, sit ! you down. My ride has made me litin ; gry as a wolf and I have far to go." ' The dinner was excellent, the Arinag- nac of the finest vintage, and d'Aubus son to all appearances a gay, frank hearted fellow, and we became very friendly as the wine cup passed. CHAPTER IX. THE MASTER-GENERAL. In the labyrinth of narrow streets, crooked roads and blind alleys behind the Palais de .Justice, * here the houses are so crowded that they seem to climb one over the other in their efforts to reach higher and higher in their search for air, is a small street called the Rue des Deux Mondes. It had this advan tage that it was wider than most of the other roads in that part of Paris, and opened out abruptly onto the river face, very nearly opposite tlie upper portion of the Pont Neuf, then under course of construction, but not to be finished for some years later. At the corner oft lie street, and overlooking the river, the Pont Neuf, the Passeur aux Yaches, with a glimpse of the Quai Malaquais and the mansions of the Faubourg St. Germain was a house of modern size, kept and owned by a Maitre Pantin, who was engaged nom inally in some legal business 111 the courts of the city. It was this house of Maitre Pantin, it will be remembered, that had been rec ommended to me as a lodging by Palin, who told me of the owner's occupation, and when I demurred on account of my ■ eligious convictions the Huguenot pointed out that 1 had to do tilings in Paris which required a safe retreat, and 1 hat he could vouch for the honesty and discretion of Pantin. I admitted that his arguments were reasonable, and re solved to take advantage of his recom mendation. We rode into Paris by the St. Ger main's gate, and I was immediately struck by the aspect of gloom that the city wore. Most of the shops were in deed open, but there appeared to be no business doing, and, instead of men hurrying backward and forward, the streets were filled with groups of peo ple evidently engaged in discussing some affair of the utmost moment. Every third or fourth man wore a black scarf over his right arm, and the bells of the churches were tolling dismally for the dead. From St. German des l'res, from St. Severin, frotn the airy spire of Ste Cliapelle, they called out mournfully, and above them all, drown ing the distant voices of St. Germain I'Auxerrois, St. Jacques de la lioucherie. St. Antoine and others less known tc fame pealed out the solemn notes of the bourdon of Notre Dame. Near the Pre-aux-clercs hundreds of long-robed students were assembled and the windows of many of the great houses, including the Logis de Nevers, were hung with black. It was strange to see Paris, always so bright and gay, with this solemn air upon it. No notice was taken of us as we rode on, the knots of people merely moving aside to let us pass, and answering Jacques' cheerful "good-day" with a silent incli nation of the head or a chill indiffer ence. [TO BE CONTINUED.] DETECTIVE WORK. Ail Amntfiir I".fVort Which Marie Onp >2 ii ii l)l*lione»t anil I.et the (iullly Excape. "Some years ago," said a Kensington manufacturer of cloth, "I found that my mill was being robbed; once or twice a month a piece of finished goods would disappear. As the thefts were all from the finishing room, suspicion naturally pointed »-o the hands there, and, after a long while of amateur de tecting, I felt pretty sure I had my man. Yet I had no evidence against him, nor could I, to save my soul, get hold of any. I just suspected Antn, you know. So one pay day I tested his hon esty. f)n pay day. you must understand, eax-h hand's money is given him in a sealed envelope, on which is written hit time, his rate per hour and the amount due. Well, there was due this man sl2, and in his envelope I put $22 —ten dol lars too much. As I had expected, he said nothing. So 1 discharged him. This man had worked for me eight years. Times were hard and he lay idle for eigiit or nine months, then moved away with his family. Scarcely had he moved away when the thefts, which had ceased for nearly a year, began once more. Once more I turned detective. This time with better luck, fori caught the thief. and 1 traced every piece of cloth he had stolen. The man discharged was innocent, save in the case of the ten dollars." One of the manufactur er's small audience spoke gravely: "Yes. you did a clever thing. You made a thief of an honest man. You placed in an honest man's way an almost un conquerable temptation, when one con siders the size of the salary you paid him. The man fell because you tripped him tip. The Bible, I think, says some thing somewhere about such deeds, and you are promised your reward."—Phil adelphia Record. Fop the I n<• n IKlnil. Miss Bright—lt's wonderful how quickly the jewelry manufacturers adapt themselves to a situation! Why. there are already cannon pencils for the artillery, Ifttle gold sabers for the cav alry, miniature halyards /or the navy and flags for everybody. Cholly—What have they made for the infantwy. Miss Bwight? "Ah, excuse me. Nursing booties, I believe."—Jeyelers' Weekly. Can Win Without. "Why is it that the plain girls are always the ones who learn to cook and make their own clothes?" "Oh, that's easily explained. The pretty ones always know they don't need to." —Chicago Evening News. sbe AflfrriMl. ITe—Do you know that I have never i dared to kiss a tfirl in my life? M\ I bashfulness is positively painful, j She—l sho' Id say it was, —Detroit 1 Free Press. THOMAS B. ALDRICII. An American Author on Whom For tune Has Smiled. Although 0:1 Years of Age He Looki l.ttif it Comparatively VOIIIIK —HI* Career a* nn ICtlltor and l^ltterutear. It is a matter of regret to lovers of pure and undefiled English that so lit tle new work comes from the pen of Thomas Bailey Aldrich in these later days. His style is equaled by few writers of prose and poetry, and it is not because he has lost his hold cn the reading public that anything new from, his pen is rarely seen. Although he is now in his sixty-third year, having been born on November 11, 1536, his friends, do not regard Al drich as an old man nor does he look like one. To see him coming down the steps of his handsome Mt. Vernon street house on Beacon llill in Boston one would guess him to be nearer 50 than 03 years of age. A!. ~vs careful in every detail of dress, he presents a marked contrast to the average "liter ary man," who is generally inclined to carelessness in this respect. It is prob ably true that Aldrich is the best "groomed" writer in Boston, and it is certainly true that few writers in Bos ton or any other city have the long purse that the gods have vouchsafed to Thomas Bailey Aldrich. When his life long friend, Hon. Henry L. Pierce, the multi-millionaire, died about two years ago, he bequeathed Mr. and Mrs. Al drich the comfortable little fortune of SIOO,OOO each, and to each of their twin sons he willed a similar sum. Aldrich's books are greatly in de mand and his royalties must amount to many thousands a year, while few H 1 ->c^y t "ML, J7 I THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. (An American Author on Whom Fortune Has Smiled.) writers can command the prices he re ceives for any thing he chooses to write, lie has added to American literature some of the most finished and exquisite work. One never tires of'The Ballad of Babie Bell," and his "Marjorie Daw and Other Stories" are charming bits of writing. His humor is as subtle as it is irresistible. A more deliciously funny story than his "Madaity Zabrisk»" has rarely appeared from the pen tf an American writer. Aldrich was born in the quaint old town of Portsmouth, N. H., but went to Louisiana to live when still a cliKd. He returned to Portsmouth and while pre paring for college his father died, which caused a change in. young Aldrich's plans, and he entered the counting room of an uncle in New York city. But his "literary bent" developed faster than his capacity for business and at the end of three years he set forth on his literary career as a MSS. reader for a New York publishing house. Later lie held editorial positions on the New York Evening; Mirror, Home Journal and Saturday Press. In ISSI l:e suc ceeded William Dean Hovvella as editor of the Atlantic Monthly in Boston. This position he held for several years and since resigning it he has spent most of his time in travel. The S|»i<ler*» Appetite. The spider lias a tremendous appe tite, and his gourmandizing defies all human competition. A scientist who carefully noted a spider's consumpi ion of food in 24 hours concluded that if the spider were built proportionately to the human scale he would eat at daybreak (approximately) a small alli gator; at seven a. m. a lamb; by nine a. m.. a young camelopard; by one o'clock, o sheep, and would finish up with a large pie, iu which t-iere were 121) birds. Vet, in spite of his enor mous appetite a spider has wonderful power of refraining from food, and one has been known to live for two months when absolutely deprived of food. A beetle lived in a similar state of unrefreshinent for three years. The Oriiiin of Dues, The view now generally taken by '.at uralists is that the dog is neither a specie*, in a zoological sense, nor even the descendant of any one species mod ified by domestication, but that dogs of different parts of the world have a correspondingly various ancestry, from different wild species of thegenuscanis, as wolves, foxes and jackals. Weddlne IUIIK Custom. The wedding ring is worn on the third finger of the left hand because it was believed by the Egyptians to be di rectly connected by a slender nerve to the heart itself. And these ancient worshipers of Isis held this finger sa cred to Apollo and the sun. and there fore gold was the metal chosen tor the ring. (ien. Slirrinnn ami tin' Doctor. The late Dr. Bliss was for many Oen. Sherman's physician. Once «hen the soldier complained: "Your stutl is doing me no good." he replied: "lake Shakespeare's advice, then, and throw It to the dogs." "There are too maay valuable dogs in our neighborhood." replied Sherman. SSOO Reward Ths above Reward will be paid for Srmation that will lead to the arrest tad conviction of the party or parties whs placed iron and (lab* on the track of the Emporium & Kick Valley R. R., nea» he east line of Franklin iiousler's fum, «a the evening of NOT. 21at, 1891. HSMKT AUCHD, 88-tf. PretxUrttf. fine liquor S:orb —lit— EMPORIUM, PA. THE undersigned baa opened a flrs* clime Liquor store, and Invites the trade or Hotels, Restaurants, Jto. We ahall carry Done bot the best Ao>e*» loan and Imported WHISKIES, BRANDIES, GINS AND WINES, BOTTLED ALE, CHAMPAGNE, Et* Cholo* line of Bottled Goods. F addition to my larf e line of llqnon I mi if conataßtly la atock a ftaU Una of CIGARS AND TOBACCO. TF- Pool and BtlHard Boom In mm* BALLDLAC.'WT CALL AND T-KK MB. A. A. MCDONALD, PBOPBIETOB, EMPORIUM, PA. £ F. X. BLUMLE, ? « DMFOBIUU, PA. Y? Bottler of and Dealer k j*L $ BEER, S & WINES, ]2 & WHISKIES, & Jvl And Liquors of All Kinds. -JjA The best of goods always JJjj 3K carried in stock and every- ££ *T| thing warranted aa represent- j£f Especial Attention Paid t# * -A rVa.il Orders. & EMPORIUM, PA. jj? / GO TO S j J. A. sitislef's,j 1 Broad Street, Emporium, Pa., J Where you can fct anything yon want la ( C the Una of / s Groceries, / \ Provisions, ? y FLOUR, SALT MEATS, P C SMOKED MEATS, \ J CANNED 600D8, ETC., ) ) Ttai, Coff«s, Fniits. Confeetionfrj, ) S Totatto and Cigam. C \ Good* IJeltyerrrt Free any / / Place in 1 ovrn. \ I CALL AM SEE ME ISD GET PRICES. \ C KEIK P. It K. DEPOT ( EMPORIUM Bottling Works, IOHN McDONALD, Proprietor. Near P. it B. Depot, Emporium, Pa. Bottler and Bhipper o# Rochester Lager Beer, BEST Bims OF ETPORT. The Manufacturer of BON Driaka and Dealer In Choloe Wlnea and Pure Llquora. We none bat the very beef Iter and are prepared to fill Orders on ihort notice. Private families served daUjr if desired. JOHN McDONALD. ! utf ttv and 'I rade Marh < btained nr.'! Pat- • ent busiaess conducted for MODERATE Fees. C \ Ovn Orrict is OPPOSITE U.S. PATENT OFFICE | >»nd we can secure patent m lea* Ume than Uio*e|, ' remote from Washington. J, Send model, drawing or photo., with deecrip-i < tioo. We advise, if patentable or not, free of ' charfe. Our fee not due till patent It secured. , i ]i A I'AMPHUJT, *' How to Obtain Patents," with<| i oost of same in the U. S. and turcica countries * ''sent free. Address, 4 C.A.SNOW&CO.? JI ©RA. TATIMT Orrici, WASHINGTON, D. «!. . 1».» FAPKB OU!f Aff IS ON FILE IN wrflVJ'M\_«V f® NEW YORKo™ . k. H. Kturoe HEWfP*°ER CO.
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