6 "HOW THEY GROW." Mark well yon slender stalk of preen Just springing forth the clods between While April airs are chilly; With filmy leaflets closely curled. It locks a tiny banner furled, But soon will be a lily. A sparrow's weight would bend It low, A Utile flood would overflow, A little frost would kill It; And e'en when grown it reaches up Ami lifts to heaven a heavenly cup, A little dew would fill It. Tet all the power that Newton saw Hind In one vast and equal law Pebble, and planet growing, Cannot, when spring is come, keep hid The lily 'neath Its coverlid, Nor stay Its buds from blowing. It knows no labor but to bloom- God's darling need no cares assume, No tribute pay but beauty; It cannot but live In the light, And still to keep lta garments white Is nature more than duty. What If to-mnrrcw It muet ileT la there no Easter in the sky To earth's dfad blossom® given? Yon world would forfeit half Its bliss If what Is sweetest here In this Brief springtime, had no heaven. "Much more, O ye of little faith— (This is the word the Mister saith) Much more to you Ilis will is!" —Nay, but it were enough for me Could I, O Master! only be To Thee as are Thy lilies. —W. 11. Woods, in Youth's Companion. -este* (Copyright, ißq7. by Longmans, Green & Co.] SYNOPSIS. D'Auriac, commanding outpost where scene is laid, tells the story. De Gomeron la In temporary command, appointed by Gen. de Rone to examine into a charge against d'Auriac. Nicholas, a sergeant, brings in a man and woman, from king's camp at I,e Fere, prisoners. D'Auriac, angered by insulting manner of de Gomeron toward woman, strikes him, duel follows and prisoners escape. Duel is Interrupted by afptarance of de Rone, and d'Auriac Is told he will hang if found alive at close of morrow's lmule. Riding over field next day d'Auriac finds Nicholas, victim of de Gomeron's malice, in imminent dar.g'r of death, and releases him from awful pre dicament. After battle !n which King Henry utterly routs de Rone's forces, d'Auriac, lying severely wounded, sees two forms moving through the darkness rob bii:ig the bodies of the dead and w out* }<"■!. They find golden collar on de Leyva's corpse, and Babette stabs Mauginot (her partner) to gain possession. Henry with retinue, among whom is fair prisoner who 3iad escaped from de Gorneron and d'Ayen, her suitor, rides over the field. Madame rescues d'Auriac, and afterwards visits him daily in hospital. Here he learns his friend is heiress of liidaehe. When well enough he Is taken to her Normandy chateau, where he learns from Maitre I'alin, nadame's chaplain, the king Is about to we her to marry d'Ayen. He sets out Sth Jacques, his knave, for l'ari.s, to t irevi?ut this marriage. Delayed at Kzy, he fne comes upon Nicholas, his old sergeant, who says de Com. Ron is In neighborhood with associates from army and nobility, plotting treason against the king. They go to de Gomeron's retreat where they mana,'j to overhear details of plot. Burn ing with revenge, Nicholas shoots at de Gomeron. Flying for their lives, the two men think themselves beyond pursuit, •when suddenly tiny are face to face with Biron, one of the traitors, whom d'Auriac cuts down, and with de Gomeron, who malt, s short work of Nicholas; d'Auriac <s apes. Arriving In l'aris the chevalier lays what he knows of treasonable plot be fore Sully, master general of ordnance. Calling on de Helm, a friend, d'Auriac se cures from him a servant, Ravaillac, who had previously been in service of d'Ayen. D' A yen's marriage to Ma lame de la Bidache is to occur within fornight, de Belin to star d sponsor, l'alin and madame arrive In l'aris. D'Auriac lias suspicions aroused concerning Ravaillac; later witnesses meeting with de Gone ron. therefore dis misses him The chevalier is introduced at court by de Belin, where he charges Biron with being traitor to France and king. For bia pains Henry gives him 24 hours to quit France. King now commands marriage to be celebrated on the morrow, making it Imperative that filght occur that night, if madame be saved. D'Auriac therefore meets her secretly, when masked men swoop down on pair and carry them off. bound and gagged. After 24 hours' im prisonment, during which lie has inter view with de Gomeron and Babette, he manages to escape. At his lodgings lie finds Jacques, I'alir,, de Belin and his host I'antin assembled in council. Next morn ing I'antin and d'Auriac, disguised, goto T.,ison d'Or, a sort of inn next building to which he and madame had been taken. D'Auriac hires a room, and from a win dow reaches roof of next building where, thi jugh a skylight, lie witnesses meeting of de Gomeron and two confederates. They plan another meeting for that night when Biron will be present. He determines to communicate again with Sully, but Ravail lac and de Gomeron being below, and fear ing detection, is compelled to bide his op portunity. After a time h"e sees in window opposite face of madame. They communi cate by means of signs, lie telling her de liverance is at i and. V.'hen night falls d'Auriac goes to join d* !&elln and i'antin. They meet the king, vtju with Intimates l.i playing at piinero in an ordinary. But ting on a mask and cloak, the king, with the others, follows d'Auriac to the Toison d'Or, w here his majesty may look upon the con spirators as d'Aui'iae had done earlier in the day. CHAPTER XX. AT THE SIGN OF"THE TOISON D'OR." Turning' we belicld de Yitry at the open door, the small and narrow figure of I'antin at his elbow, and close behind the stern features of the grand master, the anxiety on whose face cleared as he saw the king before him. lie was about ■to speak, but llenry burst in rapidly — "1 know all, duke. It is time to act, j not taik, Arnidieu! But I shall long re- j member this frolic!" ' It would seem that God has given us a great deliverancu, sire. All is ready" "Come," said the king, "we have no time to lose, and if we delay longer that hothead de Belin will strike the first blow." "With your majesty's permission 1 will make an as-ault on the rear," I #;aid. "On t lie rcar!" exclaimed de Yil ry, ■whilst the g-and master said, "it is im possible!" But 1 only pointed to the window, and Ilenrv laughed. "Veitrebleu! 1 understand—a great idea! hut, monsieur, take care how you give away a secret. 1 shsill have no ■peace if monseigneur the great master iicars what has happened." I was young enough still to feel my i\.ce grow hot at the upproval in the king's voice, and then without another word they passed out, tramp, tramp, d'own the stairs, all except Sully, who stayed behind for a momeft. "Monsieur!" he asked, 'what has happened between you and rhe king?" "His majesty has pardoned n.e." "A child might see that. What else? lie quick." "And has given me orders to meet you as you enter the Toison d'Or." The frown on his face cleared. "Well answered, chevalier. The king I see has won a faithful and discreet friend. Make your attack when yoti hear the petard." Then he, too, turned his broad shoulders on me and followed the rest. As the sound of the heavy footfalls ceased I gave a last look at my pistols, drew in my sword-belt by a hole, and, all booted as I was, essayed the ladder again. 1 had already observed that the sky light was but a light wooden frame work, with a glazing between, and would need no great effort to break down—one strong push and the way was clear before me. So I stayed for a minute of breathless silence, then far below came a sharp, shrill whistle, hur ried exclamations from the plotters, and now the explosion of the petard, that made the house rock to and fro like a tree in the wind. 1 had no need to force open the sky light. The effect of the explosion did that most effectually for me, and blew out the lamps in the ruom below as well, reducing it on a sudden to absolute darkness. There was a yell of terror from the room, and without .a mo ment's hesitation I swung through the window and dropped down among the conspirators. They were to a man crowding to the door, and not one took any note of my entrance, so great was their confusion. I followed the rush of hurryingfiguresas they passed through the door into a passage in dim light from a fire that burned in a small grate. One end of this passage was full of smoke, against which the bright flashes of drawn swords were as darts of lightning. Beyond the smoke, and below, we could hear the clash of steel, cries of pain and savage oaths, where men were fighting and dying hard. As I dashed down the passage, sword in hand, my only thought to reach the prisoner's room, one of the retreating figures turned and called out: "Quick, monster.? —follow me—the secret stiiir!" It was Latin. In the confusion ami semi gloom he had mistaken me for his chief. I made no answer, but as I rushed forward struek him on the face with the hilt of my sword, and he rolled over like a log. There I was, right in amongst the soared plotters, cheek by jowl with M.de Savoy's envoy, and I could have dropped him then and there, but that my w hole heart was in madame's room, and I knew that there were others who could and would deal with him. As I elbowed my way through the press, vainly endeavoring to find the way to my dear's prison, we reached a landing from which a long stair led straight up, and here 1 heard the mar shal's voice, cracked with rage and fear: "Lafin! De Gomeron! Tome—here! here!" "Ladies first, marshal—l must look to my bride." Then through the smoke I saw de Gomeron's tall figure mounting the stuir, and I rushed forward to follow him. It was at this juncture that.a portion of our own party forced their way to the landing, and one of them, whose sword was broken, flung himself upon me, dagger in hand, shouting: "Death to traitors!" I had just time to seize his wrist. lie tripped sideways over something that lay very quiet at our feet, and, dragging i<ie down, we rolled over and over with the clash of blades over us. "It is T—fool —l, d'Auriac—let go!" I shouted, as he tried to stab at me. "Let go. sputtered d'Aubus son's voice, 6nd we kiosed each other. I had no time for another word, and, grasping my sword, which was hang ing to my wrist by the knot, I sprang tip, and the next moment was hot foot after de Gomeron. I managed somehow to force my way through the crowd, but the stairway was half full of men, and at the head of It stood the free lance with a red sword in his hand and two or three huddled objects that lay in shapeless masses around him. Some one, with a reckless indifference to his own life—it was, I afterward found out, I'antin—held up a torch, and as the flare of it shot up the stairway de Gomeron threw back his head and laughed at us. "Twenty toon gentlemen— or must 1 come to you?" lie took a couple of steps down I he stairs, and the crowd that had made as if it would rush at him wavered and fell back, bearing me, hoarse with shouting for way, with them to the landing. For tin.' moment, penned up and utter ly unable to get forward 1 , I was a mere spectator of what followed. The free lance took one more down ward step, and then a slight figure, with one arm in a sling, slid out from the press and flew at him. It was d'Ayen, and I felt a sudden warming of the heart to the man who was goiug fo his death. "You—you traitor!" he gasped, as, using his sword with his left hand, his sword ripped the free lance's ruff. "Stand back, old fool—stand back— or—there! Take it!" and with a sharp scream dAyen fell backward* the crowd splitting for a moment, so that he nulled to the foot of the stairs and came up at my feet. God rest his soul! lie died at the last like a gallant man. They were backing in confusion now, and absve the din I could hear the mocking of de Gomeron: "Come, gentlemen, do not de!ay; time presses." One rush through af that time might have saved him, but he stood there playing with death. With an effort, I pushed d'Ayen, who was still breathing, CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, APRIL 27, 1899. against the side of the wall, to let the I poor wretch die in such comfort as could be, and, seeing my chance at last, j uia.de my way to the front. De Goineron was half way down the ; stairs by this, and when our swords met, he did not for the moment recog nize me. Hut at the second pass he realized, and the torchlight showed him I pale to the forehead. I "You!" he said, between his terth. '"Yes, I, from under the Seine;" and T had run him through the throat but for our position where the advantage was all his anid my reach too short. He h iil bached a step up as 1 spoke. Wheth er it was my sudden appearance, or what, I know not: but from this mo ment liiis bravado left him, and he now fought doggedly, and for dear life. There was a hush behind me, and the light became brighter as more torches were brought, and I could now sen the camarguer, white as a sheet, with two ! red spots on his cheeks. "Do you like fighting a dead man, monsieur?" I asked, as I parried a < thrust in tierce. lie half groaned, and the red spot on his cheek grew bigger, but he made no answer, and step by step I forced him tip ward. lie had been touched more than once, nnd there was a stain on his white satin doublet that was broadening each mo- I ment, whilst thrust and parry grew weaker, and something, 1 know not what, tohl me he was my man. Hut he v*as a brave man if ever there was one, and he pulled himself together as we reached the upper landing for one last turn with the death that dogged him. So fierce was the attack he now made, that, bad he done so but a mo ment before, when the advantage of position was his, I know not what had happened. But now—it was different, lie was my man, I was carried away by the fire within me, or else in pity 1 might have spared him—but there is no need to speak of this more, lie thrust too high. I parried and returned, so tli.it the cross hilt of my rapier strueh dully over his heart, and he died where he fell. lint one word escaped him, some long lost memory, some secret of that iron heart came up at the last.. "Denise!" he gasped, and was gone. I stood over him for a m.orne.nf, a . drumming in my ear*, and then I heard j tin' ringing of cheers and the rush of | feet. Then a half dozen strong shoul ! dors were at the door before me, and as jit fell back with a crash I sprang in | and took a tall, slim, wMte-robed figure in niv arms and kissed her dear face ! 1 | again and again. One by one those in the room stepped out and left us together, and for once a brave heart gave way and she sobbed like a child on my shoulder. I said nothing but held her to me, and so we might have been for a half hour, I 3 IllfPji STEP BY STEP I FORCED HtM UPWARD. when I heard de Belin's voice at the broken door: "D'Auriac! Come,man! The king waits, and bring your prison er." There was a laugh in Lis voice and a light on his face as he spoke, and my dear lifted her swimming eyes to my face and 1 kissed her again, saying: "Come, my prisoner!" As we passed out I kept between Claude and the grim figure still lying stark on the landing, and held her to me, so that she could not see. So with Lisois before us we passed down the passage, tilled now with men-at-arms, and halted before a room, the door of which was closed. Then the door was flung open and a stream of light poured forth. We en tered and saw the king standing sur rounded by his friends, and a little on one side was the dejected group of conspirators. The marshal, now abject, mean and cringing, was kneeling before lb nry, who raised him as we entered, saying: 'TSiron, and you, Tremouille, and you aU who called yourselves my friends, and lay in wait to destroy me, and destroy your country, I cannot forget I that we were old comrades, and lor old friendships' sake I have already told you that I forgive, and God give you all as clean a consciesae as I have over the blood that ha* been spilt to day." As La flu, with a white and bleeding face, led his master away, Henry's eye fell on me, and lie beckoned ine to ad vance. I did so, leading Claude by the hand. "Chevalier," he said, "it is saying lit tle when I say that it is through you that those misguided gentlemen have realized their wrongdoing. There is one recompense you would not let me make you for the wrongs you have suf \ fored. There is, however, a reward for > I your services, which perhaps you will | accept from me. I see before mo a royal | ward who has defied her guardian i Ventre St. 'iris! My beard is getting | over gray to look after such dainties. 1 surrender my ward to your care." As 1 ho said this he took Claude's h»md and j placed it in mine. "I see, madarne," j lie added, "that this time you have no i j objection to the king's choice. There— | quite right—kiss her, man." #*»»»#* rt is all over st last, that golden sum | nier that was so long nod vet seeiris I but a day. It is ten years ago that those ' shining eyes that never met mine but ! with tiie lovolight in them were closed j forever; and the gift that (Jod gave aic, I that did li>e take back. I am old, and gray, and worn. My son, the Vicornpte de Bidache, is in Paris with the cardinal, whilst I waitnt Auriac for the message that will call n:e to her. When she went, Bidache, where we lived, became unbearable to me, and I came back here to wait till I, too, am called. To wait and watch the uneasy sea, to hear the scream of the gulls and fool the keen salt air. I have come to the laat of th> fair white sheets of paper the cure brcoght for me from Havre this autumn, a/id it grows strangely dark even for niv eyes. I will write no more, but sit out on the terrace and wait for the sunset. Per haps she may call».ne to-day. "Jacques! my cloak!" THE END. SUNSHINE PEOPLE. They Art* the Divinely-Appointed Pro moter* of Optimism Who Keep Others Sweet. "Why do you hurry to catch the 8:30 train, when you know there's another that leaves at 8:45, which would get us into town in plenty of time?" asked one young lady of another, as the two were hastening toward a suburban rail road station. "Because," replied the other, with a little apologetic laugh, "I always like to get in i)ii the sunshine man's train." "Pray, who is the sunshine man?" in quired her companion. "The conduc tor?" "Ob, my, no!" was the laughing re sponse. "He's the crossest bear that ever was. But there's the dearest little old gentleman who goes into town every morning on the 8:30 train. I don't know his came, and yet it does seem as if I knew him better than anybody else in town. He just radiates cheerful ness as far a.s you can see him. There is always a smile on his face, and 1 never heard him open his mouth except to say some kind or courteous or good natured thing. Everybody bows to him, even strangers, and be bows to every body, yet never with the slightest hint of presumption or familiarity. It just warms the cockles of one's heart to see his shining face, the twinkle of his eye, and the bright little flower he always wears in his buttonhole. If the weathei is tine, his jolly compliments make it seem finer; and if it is raining, the merry way in which he speaks of it is as good as a rainbow. Everybody who goes in regularly on the 8:30 train knows the sunshine man. It's his train. There's nothing else to distinguish it from the 8:45, or any other. Vcu just hurry up a little, and I'll show you the sunshine man, this morning. It's foggy and cold, but if one look at him doesn't cheer you up so that you'll want to whistle, then I'm no judge of human nature." It was a sweet and genuine tribute of human sympathy which this young lady paid to the overflowing kindliness of the "sunshine man." There are a fsw such men—and women, too —in every community*, and God seems to have set them there to keep the rest of the people from getting t*o sour and despondent and self-absorbed and un neighborly. They are the divinely-ap pointed promoters of optimism, these sunshine folk. Most people have a tendency to grow somber as they grow older—especially when they are abroad among strangers. One glance at tbe faces of people in any street car will prove this.—Standard. WHEN WE BEGAN. It Was Not ! ntil the Eighteenth Cen tury That People Appreciated Natural Scenery. In the eighteenth century people had begun to appreciate natural scenery, but ch'iefly when it took the form of ex tensive prospects, or, what we should now call, perhaps slightingly, pano ramic views. The novelists of that cen tury did not place their characters among elaborately arranged scenery. But the essayists of the period had noted the tendency of the age, and strove to explain the matter philo sophically. Thus we read in Addison's Spectator: "The mind of man naturally hates everything that looks like re straint upon it, and is apt to fancy itself under a sort of confinement, when the sight is pent up in a narrow compass, and shortened on every side by the neighborhood of walls or mountains. On the contrary, a spacious horizon is an image of liberty, where the eye has room to range abroad, to expatiate at large on the immensity of its views, and to lose itself amidst the variety of ob jects that offer themselves to its ob servation. Such wideand undetermined prospects are as pleasing to the fni:<-,\ as the speculations of eternity i.i; finitude are to the understanding, liut if there be a beauty of uncommon lies, joined with this grandeur, as in the troubled ocean, a heave® adorned with stars and meteors or a spacious land scape cut out into rivers, woods, rocks and meadows, the pleasure still grows upon us, as it arises front more than a single principle."—Household Words. They Ciet It Honestly. "Why is it that women lay so much more stress than men do upon the value of a pedigree?" "They inherit it from Eve, I guess." "From I've? I don't see-what she had ! to boast of in that line." "It wasn't much, but she wasn't made out of clay, while, Adam was, and I'll bet she never got through reminding him of her superior origin."—Toronto S News. Proof of Genuineness. Minnie —What frauds these beggars ; are. I met a "blind" man who said: i "Please give me a penny, beautiful i lady." i Mamie—Yes, he said that to make yoi think he really was blind. —lidianapc lis Journal PLEASED WITH ALBERTA. An Excellent Report from Wisconsin and Minnesota Delegates. The opinion of five delegates from Minnesota and Wisconsin, published by the Edmonton Bulletin, are very com plimentary to Northern Alberta. The report says: "We must say with all sincerity that, driving all over the country tor six days, we have not found one settler who was not more than pleased with the country and its productions, and will not return to the land he left. We have seen people here from all parts of the states and all doing well. We met a Da- I kota farmer by the name of McLean, who has informed us that he lias raised more grain here in three years than he did in 13 where he came from, on half as much ground. We have seen a nam ber of others, both men and women, and all speak in the same strain about Al berta. They all look well and content ed; even the children are happy. Inour drives over the country, in passing the countless schoolhouses, we could only see happiness in the faces of the little ones. We noticed them all well dressed, equal if not better than the same class of children in the State of Minnesota. The wheat that is raised here is just beautiful, the kernel full and plump anil may well be termed golden grain, yielding 30 to 55 bushels to the acre. This statement is not from one farmer, I but from hundreds, who tell the same tale. Oats yield from 70 to 100 bushels to the acre, barley from 40 to 60 bushels and potatoes from 300 to 400 bushels to the acre. We have taken particular notice of the climate in regard to the ditlerence between this country and our own. When we left Ada, Minnesota, we were in the midst of a real Dakota blizzard. When we arrived at Edmonton we found the people on the streets still wearing summer clothing, no mittens on their hands and far less use for them. The country is simply more than we ever dreamed of. The printed matter sent out by the Government does not half tell of the grand country in Alberta, j open for millions of people to make j beautiful homes for themselves. Too I much cannot be said in praise. It is all j and more than the greatest eulogist j ever thought of giving to the public. We saw cattle and horses in herds grazing on the prairie like in summer j time, all sleek and fat. We were in formed by several farmers that most of the stock run out all winter. We also found the market extra good here for beef and pork. Hogs fetch 4>/ a c live weight. Three-year-old steers will bring from $lO to $45 right from the prairie. Coal and wood are here in abundance. Coal is sold iu the town of Edmonton for $2 per ton and farmers can secure coal at the mines themselves for 75c per load. Before closing we say to you one and all, come to Alberta, where there are homes for millions and a promise for something to lay by for an old age. We are well satisfied with this country, and as evidence have each bought a half section of C. P. R. land in township 55, i range 21, west of the 4th initial merid- j ian, and will return next spring tore- I side. Hoping this may be of some benefit to the overburdened farmers of the United States. Sent by Floyd Dean, son of E. S. Dean, of Beanville, Mich., who is now in Al- j berta, and lias taken up 100 acres there | After it is too late a man thinks of a lot ; of bright things he might have said.—Chi- J cago Daily News. ConghlnK I.ends to Consnmptlon. Kemp's Balsam will stop the Cough at j once. Goto your druggist to-day and get a sample Irottle free. Large bottles 25 and 50 | cents. Go at onee; delays are dangerous, j A man gets just what he kicks for at a ' boarding house. In many homes, a man it j less fortunate. —Atchison Globe. To Cure a Cold In One Day Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets.. All druggists refund money if it fails to cure. 25c. No man is so good that his neighbors can't see room for improvement.—Chicago Daily News. We have not been without Piso'a Cure foi Consumption for 20 years.—Lizzie Ferrel, Camp St., Harnsburg, Pa., May 4, '94. ALABASTINE la the ordinal and only durable wall coating, entirely different from all kal somlnes. Ready for use In white or twelve beautiful tints by adding cold water. LADIES naturally prefer ALA BASTINE for walls and ceil- j ings, because It Is pure, clean, , durable. Put up in dry pow dered form, In five-pound pack« ages, with full directions. ALL kalsomlnes are cheap, tem- j porars- preparations made from j whiting, chalks, clays, etc., J and stuck on walls with dei caving animal glue. ALABA3- | TINE Is not a kalsomine. BEWARE of the dealer who says he can sell you the "same thing" as ALABASTINE or : "something Just as good." HV» I Is either not posted or Is try ing to deceive you. AND IX OFFERING something he has bought cheap and tries to sell on ALABASTINE'S de mands, he may not realize the damage you will suffer by a kalsomine on your walls. SENSIBLE dealers will not buy a lawsuit. Dealers risk one by selling and consumers by using Infringement. Alabastine Co. own right to make wall coat ing to mix with cold water. THE INTERIOR WALLS of every schoolhouse should be coated cniv with pure, durable ALABASTINE. It safeguards health. Hundreds of tons ar» Used annually for this work. IN BUYING ALABASTINE, set that packages are properly la beled. Beware of large four pouiitl package light kalso mine, offered to customers a» a live-pound package. NUISANCE of wall paper Is ob viated by ALABASTINE. It can be used on plastered walls, wood ceilings. brick or can vas. A child can brush It on. It does not rub or scale off. ESTABLISHED in favor. Shun all imitations. Ask paint dealer or druggist for tint card. Write for "Alabastine Era." free, to ALABASTINE CO., araai Kayid», Michigan. SSOO Reward Th« above Reward will be paid for i»i j 'venation that wili lead to the arrest aa<l | couviction of the P"rty or parties who | placed iron and slabs on the track of ths J emporium Si Rich Valley R. R., noai I he east line of Franklin Houaler's farm, »n the evening of Nov. 21st, 1891. liiiNar AUCHU, 88-If. J'rett'/.ent. FINE LIQUOR STORE IX EMPORIUM, PA. THE undersigned hu opened a firrt clnse Liauor store, and invito# tha trade or Hotels, Restanranta, &<x Wo shall carry none but the best Aooar lean and Imported WHISKIES, BRANDIES, GINS AND WIN^S, BOTTLED ALE, CHAMPAGNE, Etc. Choice line of Bottled Goods. XW addition to try large l!ne of llqoofi I eourvf constantly In stock a full line of CIGARS AND TOBACCO. OVPool anl Billiard Room In same C±LL AND f-EE V K A. A. MCDONALD, PROPBIETOE, EUPOEIUM, PA.. % F. X. BLUMLE, ? ; « EMPORIUM. I»A_ m yY Bottler ot cod Dealer 1» j"5 & BEER, J? 4 WINES, 'i M WHISKIES, ft Q, And Liquors of All Kinds. & jjj! The best of goods always JJj( w carried in stook and every- yB W thing wurrantad as represent- jj Especial Attention Paid to W Hail Orders. M '4 EMPORIUM, PA. $ &xc&x&x: I GO TO S s J. A- j 1 Broad Street, Emporlun, Pa., J , Where yon can get anytnlnj you want in C C the line of / s Groceries, / ) Provisions, ? F FLOUR, SALT MEATS, X C SMOKED MEATS, \ J CANNED GOODS, ETC., ) j Ttis, Coffees, lYcita, toafeetlonery, ) 5 Tofcsrtfl aid Cigars. C \ Goods Deltyered Free any / / Place In Town. S I CILL 1» SEE BE lID GET PRICES. \ ? IEAK P. k E. DEPOT ( | KM no RUM Bottling Works, lOHiN McDONALD, Proprietor. Kcar P. it £. Depot, Emporium, Pa. j— Bottler and Shipper of Rochester Lager Beer, BEST ISA.IDS OF EYPORI. j The Manufacturer of Sof Drinks and Dealer in Choice 'Tines and Pure Liquors. I z: ZWP We keef. none bnt the very beat Soar and are prepared to fill Orders on shori notice. Private families serve*} laily If desired. JOHN MCDONALD. j Caveats, and Trade-Martn obtained and all i rent business conducted for MODERATE fEE%. < Jour O'rici is Opposite U, 3 112 t£lSs' l Sand we can secure patent m lew time luan thoAC (1 {remote from Washing ton. , , 1 [ J .Send model, dra*:n 112 or photo., With descrfp-. | #t!on. V'o ad viae, if patentable or not, tree oi , tcbaxire. Our fee not due till patent is secured. ( i { fc itiupui rr 44 How to Obtain Patents, with Joost ot same in the U. S. and foreign countries t seat free. Address, JO. A. SNOW & CO.' I r*TiNT Qrrt et, i.'WWrfSa CHICAGO fe? NEW YORK™"™.'. 1.4, «. KELLCCa »EWSPi c tß Ci
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers