Mli Ufap K^W. Or is It restless joy that thrills and leaps From tho ilizzy spire and dome That though the Old Year shall soon lie asleep, A glad New Year will come? Look! as the Old Year sinks In dreamless rest, With weary sigli and moan. The New Tear, all In regal splendor dresied. Ascends the vacant throne. The light of hope is gleaming in lite eyes As gceptered there he stands. A ■scroll with strange unspoken prophecies He bears within his hands. "Tell me, Year," I ask,"of paths un seen That wind far on ahead— Those shadowy regions where no foot hath been Except by fancy led. "What" waits beyond? Will bloom and sunshine lie Where'er those pathways tend, Or are there mountains towering grim and high Before the journey's end?" Ah, though again I question eagerly, With mingled hope and fear, He opens not the scroll of prophecy; No answer do 1 hear. The New Year only smiles: I may not know What future hours may bring. If o'er me hope's sweet presence shall bend low, Or sorrow's sable wing. Old Year, how fair the country I have passed. What golden hours were they! Will not their radiance be softly cast About my onward way? Good-bye, good-bye, as music faint and clear Reechoed o'er the sea. Shall be the joyous memories, Old Year, That shall return of thee! —Alice Jean Cleator, ill Ohio Farmer. n—. fsO'i'' ' WAS late ill the iripjl' r—iT- aft ernoon when jJt-' 1 '| vfcs|i |?|| • Xl Towns en a -ys""®! Vn saw the hist piece I of furniture trans lionie, and now, as the clock struck 11, the looked around her bedroom in a dazed and bewildered way. Was there ever such a jumble of boxes, trunks and furniture as met her gaze! "Ilow can Jack leave me alone so long when lie knows what a lot there is to do," she said aloud, as she sank into a chair before the open tire, the only cheer-inspiring object in the room, and looked about again, as the last stroke of the clock died out. t'L'gh, will I ever get this muddle into anything like order," she muttered. "Ilow I hate it all, and oh, how 1 hope we will never move again, as long as I live —I'm tired of packing and unpack ing, of arranging and rearranging. Wl.at a chaos in which to begin the .\< w Year:" And visions of brilliantly lighted parlors, glittering tables, pret ty girls and handsome men passed be fore her by way of contrast. Then the baby stirred and she rose to place it more comfortably in its crib. Coming back to lier chair by the lire she caught sight of a small blue box in a corner of one of the open trunks. "Ah, I'll burn you now," she said, softly. "It is sentimental nonsense to carry you around any longer. This is just the fire fo* you. and I'm too worn out to do another stroke of work." Lifting tbe lid she took out a bundle of letters addressed in a flowing busi ness hand to "MISS ROSE WINSTON, "100 West Street, "New York City." Somehow her heart beat a little faster as she recalled how happily it had throbbed at sight of these same envel opes three years ago. Three years' Was it only three? A log slipped and rolled to the edge of the hearth, sending a shower of 6parks before it. It aroused the musing woman, who leaned forward for the tongs with which to push it back in place. Then she slowly drew forth a letter and read: "New York City, May Ist, 18—." "My Dearest— "Darling, is how I think of you, and I might as well own up. Just a few moments ago I left you, yet it seems so long—l want to be with you always. "Do you know, dearest, that you have bwonic more necessary to me than anyone or anything in life? 1 never dreamed I could love anyone as I love you, and yester day, when you said that you were fickle, you awnkened feelings that have made me sad. To-night when I said that I should try to destroy your fickleness I meant it, for the thought arises—Should she tie tickle with me, what then? I am sure 1 don't know. "You are my ideal in face, form, dispo sition and character. The more I see you the more I love you—and why? Because we think alike on many subjects, because you would make the loveliest wife man ever had, because you would make for me that for which I long—a home." She raised her eyes to look around the disorderly room, and lier heart smote her. Then she went on with the let ter: "I have ret words at my command, to tell you what I think. I only know that I love you, and that if you were mine you would 'rtiake the man.' You are superior to me, and have strength, where I am weak. "If you had not said that you were not sure of yourself, I should ask you to be mine—but I must wait. May I not think of you as mine? May I r.ot hope that some ity you will be mine? Tell me truly, dear- est. If 1 might only hope I should work so hard to make myself worthy of you— 1 you are a perfect treasure. You may al ways believe me to be, Your own, "JACK." With a deepening flush on her cheeks and a tender light shining in her eyes she opened a second letter with lingers that trembled slightly—such a sea of memories was surging over her. It began without date, but that she could easily supply: "My Darling: "To-day you have made me the happiest of mortals, for you promised to become my wife! Who would not be happy under the circumstances—for the man who gets you gets a prize, indeed. I shall not say v. hut I shall try to do for you except that if love and devotion can make you happy, sorrow and sadness shall never know you. "To-night you looked so pretty —your eyes were brighter than ever I have seen thein. You looked happy. Oh, that you may always look as you did to-night! "Sweetheart. I love you so much more than I can till—more than I ever thought myself < ap.'ible of loving anyone, and when I think it over, I wonder how it all came about. You did not try to make me love you, neither did I try to make you love me, until I found myself loving you— four.d tiiat I must lie with you to be happy. "Now 1 am going to answer the precious letter my own sweetheart wrote me to-day. Ilow lovely it is! li is Just like her from beginning to end. "If. as you say, my love makes you happy, it must be because you love me. If it were only love that you love, then you would be happy in the love of any one of your many admirers. "Nothing that you say can hurt me, dearest, for I know that you speak for the best interests of us both. "Yes, my darling, I want you to,be sure of yourself, for I would not blight your life ever so little. "Should I lose you, life would be little worth the living, yet I would rather lose you than ever see you unhappy. "You are unjust to yourself in many ways and rate yourself too low. You say that you don't understand yourself. Did you ever know any one who could say: 'I know myself?' Dearest, others know us best—other- see our faults and virtues in a clearer light than we can see them. I shall not pretend that I understand you, fur it has long been conceded that the mind feminine is incomprehensible toman, but, oh, my sweetheart, all the faults you con fess to are dearer to me than other wom en's virtues. You are you, my darling, and 1 love you as. you are. That is clumsy, but at best I car. ill express how dear you are to me. "Your heart pleads for me, but your head does not. That shows good sound sense, and 1 ran enly hope that the heart will get away with the head. "Ar.d now, my sweet, as a guard against fickleness I want you to give up to a cer tain extent your male admirers. I don't mind their calls, 1 rather like them, for I am proud to have my sweetheart a favor ite, but you must let them know that you belong to me ai d that I am a monopolist. I can love you enough alone, they may like you. I can love you as much as you love to be loved—so remember, no trifling. "I know, dearest, that you might have chosen many men handsomer, nobler, richer than 1, but you will never Undone who will love you more than does "Your own devoted "JACK." The third letter ran: "X believe the happiest day of my life 112 ? L ' ar ' hastily muttering something "I'LL BURN YOU NOW," SHE SAID, SOFTLY. has just ended. To-day another begins, though I will never be thoroughly happy until 1 hear the words which make us man and wife—then how happy I shall be and oh. how proud! When we are married I shall always try to be the best of hus bands and my first aim shall lie to make you happy; then I am happy. "You are the one to make me—make more of me than the ordinary man. There is nothing that I would not try to do for your dear sake. As a beginning 1 shall try to have my business hours changed, so that X may have my evenings for my sweetheart. 1 can say -of her as someone else has said of his love: •She's more than diamond, ruby or pearl, Siie's a dear little, sweet little, r.eat little girl!' "Vou are all that and more. You are more precious to tne than are jewels—you are invaluable—they are not. "It is after two—and X still have writing to do. "Good-right, sweetest, dearest, best! My beautiful Kose —X love you, X love you, I love you! "JACK." Long the tired woman stared at the loving words —could they have been written to her? Why had she not read them oftener? Why was it that all the beautiful romance hud died out of her life? Whose was the fault? Again her eyes devoured the deal - words before her. How her heart warmed with ten- ; derncss toward the writer. How she hungered for the kisses and caresses lie used to lavish upon her. If only to night he would take her in his arms all j tired, nervous and unstrung as she was, [ and pet and comfort her. If she could j hear him call her by the old, fond, fool- J ish names how it would lighten her j heavy heart and rest her weary body. Then she thought of the time she : had repulsed his loving advances —of ' her petulant retorts, her irritable com plainings under misfortunes and re verses. How far. far below his ideal she had fallen. Would he ever love her so well again? Cou'd she ever get back to her throne? Solemnly the bells began to toll for tlie dying year. They sounded deep in the heart of the waiting wife. "Oh, God," she prayed, "for the New Year's fight, grunt me patience, gen CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1899 tleness, love. Help me reinstate Biy self in my husband's heart for the dear Christ's sake." And tears trickled slowly through the lingers which supported tlie tired head. A step, a hand on her chair, a cheery voice saying: "A Huppy New 'i ear, little wife! What, crying? Why, my darling- my poor little, pretty li'tle drowning white Hose— what a brute I ve been to leave you so long," and she was gathered to her husband's heart. He held her close till the storm of tears was over, soothing her as it mother might a tired little child, with tender words and caresses —the very words she had longed and prayed to hear. "Oh, Jack," she whispered when she had (rrown calmer, "do you think you can ever love me again, asvou did w lien vou wrote these?" And she pointed to Vlio letters scattered at her feet. "So you have been going over it, too:" her husband replied, somewhat irrel evantly, and looking down at the let ters. Then taking her tear-stained face between his hands, he said, tenderly: "My foolish child, are you not my precious wife? Have you not borne hardships that a better husband might have spared yon? Have" — "But, oh Jack," she interrupted, "how have 1 lmnie them? Think <>f the reeriminatior.s, the reproaches, the complaining's - even if you are good enough to forgive 1 can never forgive myself." "There, there," said Jack, laying his warm, loving lips to her quivering, self- I accusing ones, "you shall not abuse my wife. Now I shall put you to bed, but first wish me a Ilappy New ear arid we will begin all over again." With In r arm about his neck and the old love-liglit shining in her eyes she murmured, obediently: "I wish you a Happy New ear, my husband!"- Mary Wright Davis, in Every Month. OLD-TIME NEW YEAR'S CALLS. They llclil nil Important I'lnce In llie Observance* of (lie I?«y—Origin of the <ll* to in. Among the festivities of old New York the observance of -New Year's day held an important place, Mrs. Julia I Ward Howe, in the Atlantic. In every house of any pretension the ladies of < the family sat in their drawing-room, arrayed in their best dresses, and the gentlemen of their acquaintance made short'visiis, during which wine and rich cakes were offered. 11 was allow - able in call as early as tan o'clock in the morning, but the visitor sometimes did little more than appear and disnp about the "compliments of the season." The gentlemen prided themselves upon the number of visits paid, the ladies upon the number received. Girls at school vexed each other with emulative boasting. "We had MJ callers on New Year's day." "Oh! but we had Go." This perfunctory performance grew very tedious by the time that the call ing hours were ended, but apart from this the day was one on which families were greeted by distant relatives rare ly seen, while old friends met and re vived their pleasant memories. In our house the rooms were all thrown open, and bright fires burned in the grates. 1 recall a New Year's day, early in the thirties, on which a yellow chariot stopped before our door. A stout, el derly gentleman descended from it, and came into pay his compliments to my father.' This gentleman was John Ja cob Astor, who was already known to be possessed of great wealth. The pleasant custom just described i was said to have originated with the Dutch settlers of the olden time. As the city grew in size, it became diffi cult and well-nigh impossible for gen tlemen to make ihe necessary number of visits. Finally, a number of young men of (he city took it upon themselves to call in squads at houses which they had no right to molest, consuming the refreshments provided for other guests, and making themselves disagreeable in various ways. This offense against good manners led to the discontinuance, by common consent, of the New Year's receptions. A Sure Knnnuli Kvaiii|ile. Teacher (giving lesson in natural history)—An extinct bird or animal is one that no longer inhabits the earth. Willy ( ireen, give us an example of an extinct bird. Willy Green (smacking his lipsf— Why. that turkey dad killed for ous New Year dinner!— Puck. One v.r New Year's Eve " ~ V>YL HI I Manila L. Crocket. swish of a blue dress, a faint i j breath of violets, as in pastil g. anil J_L he felt rather than saw Mark; Sum mcrlieid go by. Standing a little apart from the knots of merry young people thronging the pleas ant rooms, he was conscious of a thread of pain running through the last night of the old year, touching only Miss Summerfield and himself. liy he, I mean Leigh Reyhurn, the owner nf the old-fashioned, low-roomed grange be neath whose root tiie young people of '-lad brook had gathered to keep a merry watch night. With music and laughter and gay repartee they meant to dunce a welcome to the joyous New Year without much thought for the staid old twelve-month which had served them so faithfully. lint Leigh moved uneasily, sending im ploring glances after the blue gown, all to no purpose. Marie was absorbed with ths fascinating company of Maurice Davenport, and Was smiling her sweetest —and Marie could smile divinely—and entertaining him admirably. Reyburn was thinking hard, and, it must he confessed, uncharitably. Had he wor shiped and petted and lived for Mi's Sutn merfield these two blessed sunlit years, to have hope and happiness go into the grave of the frail old year leaving nothing but memories? What was 11 at Marie was singing to the sweet toned guitar she held so daintily, strapped in place with a blue riband? "Iting out the old, ring In the new; The year is dying, let it go; King in the new; ring in the new." Her voice seemed to falter a little on the repeat as it fell to a soft cadence. Was it possible she was thinking of the old so tenderly the old love, for instance? Ah! well, he did not know. The yule log had burned out a week ago, but lie h.isl not the heart to take up the silvery ashes from the old, red brick hearth as yet. Ever since that other night he had kept his vow and closed his doors to all merriment for two long years. Hut some how the lads and lassies of Oladbrook had lain their sympathies on his door-stone and worked themselves into his good graces once more, and before he realized what he was doing he hud given up the silent rooms again toaChristmas party. Hut no more New Year frolics under his roof, he said; not until —well, maybe— He stopped short in hi musings; still the remnant of the mistletoe hung in the bracket work of the old chan delier and he remembered now. as he looked at it. how pure and fair Alicia Merrill looked when Herman Montrose kissed her beneath its potent spell a week ago. She put lorn in mind, O, so much, of her. Cov ering his eyes for a moment with trembling hand, he went to the window and looked out. White and glistening as an angel's wing lay the snow on the intervening fields. Over there was her house, but she had been away now for a long time studying music, and he had heard, for she <1 id not write to him, that her voice was simply divine, and as a musician she was wonderful. Nevertheless, it was a niglit. like th nodding toward the flooding moonlight out side, that they he and she had their misunderstanding. A spa.-m of pain crossed his fine face and he caught his breath a little, lie could not Veil just how it catiu about, never clearly understanding, but that night so much like this, and New Year's Eve, too, marked the beginning of their di verging paths. And lie had heard of di verging paths which came together again after awhile! To-morrow was the glad New Year again. Would its happy greetings be only mock ery to him? Suddenly a thought, which had smoul dered in his mind for days, flashed up like a gleam of heavenly light, radiating his whole being. Hie was coming home to-night on the late HEK VOICE SEEMED TO FALTER. train; and he was so hungry to see her; only God knew how famished of heart he was! lie would take the down train, get off at Iloekland when she changed cars for Glad brook. No one could prevent him from ridng home tn the same coach with her; and even that >»'.uld be a blessed comfort. Then, maybe, something would come of it. Who knew? In lii minutes he was inside his great coat und locking the ball door, with a ner vous, glad excitement stealing jver him, like the coming of a new cay. A ten-min utes' walk brought liiui to the station. "Going away for the New Year?" queried the agent, pleasantly, handing Reyburn the m;uired pasteboard. "O, a liTTle way," lie replied, absently, pulling on his gloves. Seureelj had he settled himself in the outward-bound train than Joe Antrim thumped him on the shoulder and sang out: "Hullo! going away on a blow-out, 1 suppose? Well, so am I. Some are going away, and sonie are coming home." In the awkward silence which followed Joe's voluble introduction, lie seemed to read Reyburn's thoughts, for, without look ing furthe. - for reply, he began again: ".Miss Summerfield is coming to-night, they say; and they say, too, that she is bringing her best fellow with her. Oladbrook looks for a wedding at the Summerfield home to morrow. Hut, of course, 1 don't know; it is only gossip, maybe." Having tiius delivered himself, Joe An trim, without writing for reply, betook him self to the smoker, leaving Reyburn in just the state < 112 mind he intended, half-way be tween insanity and desperate intent. Hut by and by Reyburn's mind cleared to Joe's last sentence. Only gossip. Of course that was all; but Joe was mean to hash it over, to him of all persons, and in such an insinuating manner, too. Well, he would goon to Rockland now if he met her complete bridal party; he would see for hin: sol/, and if it was all true, why, lie would not go home that night, and perhaps Glad brook would never see iiini again. At Rockland he had only a few minutes to wait between trains, and alreatf- the home-bound one was waiting on a side track. Purchasing his ticket, l.e ensconced himself where he could plainly see the passengers leave the cross-train. "Now for the bridal party, at least the bride and groom," he said, trying to he jocular with himself, although his face was very white and his mouth twitched nerv ously. At the cry "train, train," everybody be gan to bustle about. Friends, baggage and good-bys were mixed up indiscriminately, but Leigh was very still. He could hear hi-* anxious heart beat out its suspense in great suffocating leaps, as the fateful train thun dered in. Sure enough, there was Miss Summerfiekl; and the line-looking young man who helped her alight also took charge of her bag gage. lleaven have mercy! Were gossip and Joe Antrim right, after all? but pshaw! any chivalrous fellow traveler would have done as much. Notwithstanding this plausible thought, I.eigh slipped into the home-bound coach like a thief, taking the corner seat in the rear end of the car. \Y hen Miss Sutnmerfleld came in, the terrible groom-to-be, to whom the bridal party had dwindled, even he, was not in attendance. Marie carried her own "grip." The man felt a tremor of hope quiver all over him, something like an electric cur rent. She took the third seat from the door and leaned her head on her hand weari ly. A strange air for a bride, thought the man in the corner. lie could not see her HE V HISI'ERED: "MARIE." face, but some way he felt that this New Year's ICve was not what she wished. O, was she in trouble, too? ile had half a mind togo to her; the seat directly behind her was providential!} empty; lie could whisper "Marie" over the back of her seat when his courage warranted it. At the next stop he took advantage of the stir of the passengers and slipped into the coveted groove. Blessed privilege! He had not been near, so near her for years, and his heart was on (ire. \\'heu he could wait no longer, he whispered over the bar rier: "Marie!" She looked up, surprised and startled. After the confusion had left her lovely face, she gave him her hand gingerly and asked in strained tones: "flow came you here, Mr. Keyburu "I could not help it,"he confessed, flush ing, but looltiug straight at her. "I wanted to be near you once more. on don't know how miserable 1 am without you." There was a world of emotion in the un dertone, but he kept bravely on: "I came down to Rockland for nothing else than that 1 might get a glimpse of you. 1 felt it would comfort me to ride home in the same coach—to-night of all nights." He stopped and looked at her in such a pit iful, hungry-hearted way. It «as all out now, this confession of his. He meant to make it at the risk of everything before his heart failed him —and he had done so. Of course she could do what she pleased with it, and him, too; he had staked and would win, or lose, all. Putting his elbow on the barrier and leaning a little toward her, he waited for her to speak. And her face was a study. Presently she gasped out: "Then you aren't to be married to-night?" The interrogation -napped the last thread holding Leigh Reyburn's great love in re serve. "Marie, darling! Could you- did you think O, Heaven! as if I could love anyone but you! <l. Marie!" The whiteness of his face was terrible to see; but it all dawned upon her at once. "I —I —O, Leigh!"—she put out both her hands, and two great tears stole down her cheeks to tii.ish the sentence more eloquent ly than words. When the train stopped at Gladbrook, a very happy couple alighted. And out across the moonlit snow, from the belfry bars of the gray stone church came the merry chime of bells: "Ring out the old, ring In the new; The year Is dying; let it go." "Ring in the new," said Leigh, drawing her ar.n through his. "The years of mis understanding are dead; let them go, dear est." "We will," she answered, softly and hap pily. And Joe Antrim laughed in his sleeve, and said to the bright New Year morning: "I am glad 1 set those two simpletons right by a bit of stre'.egy. A little prevarication, ahem! Hut all is fair in love and war " EVES TIIE WORM WILL Ti lts, / " fd _ "Wouldn't this jar you," said the Early Bird, testily; "not a worm in sight." "Perhaps," said the Night Owl, "this being New Year's, the worm has turned a new leaf." —Kansas City Star. A Habit of 111 H. Major— Going to swear off drinking this year, old man? Minor —1 suppose so. I generally do.— Town Topics. IS IN I'ANCAKE FORM. New Process cf Baling Hay Which Has Its Advantages. Prmaeil In I,n»er* Into llntr* C'jH*- drlcnl in Form null About of 11 .\nll KPK —llfing Ship!•«'<' to South African. The baled hay that is being- shipped from New York for the use oft he lit i t isti armyin South. Africa, and the American army in the Philippines is being com pressed by a new process. The hay is putupiubales cylindrical in form,about the size and shape of the old fashioned nail keg, or IS inches high and of the same diameter. When baled in this shape the hay is as hard as a board. The bales weigh about 145 pounds. The hay is "handed out" in pancake form. The hay pancakes, or layers, which make up the bales, are about three-fourths of an inch thick. The most compact bale, of hay put up by the okl style requires about 100 cubic feet of space per ton. This new-fangled hay takes up only 50 cubic feet of space j.« r ton. A singular combination of circum stances is afforded at the baling plant In Brooklyn. The contractor is using (Canadian hay, baled in.the old square fashion, in Canada. The old bales are torn to pieces and fed into the top of the six new compressors. About half the product of the Brooklyn plant goes to South Africa for use in the army which is fighting the Boers, while the other half goes to Manila for use by l.awton and Mat-Arthur's cavalry. The good thing about this new bale is that a mule can carry two 112-pound bales, and after he is fed off them for two or three days, there is enough left for a cavalryman to use as a miniature rampart. The hay is packed so tight that, a bullet- would not go far into it. A mule can carry only one of the 115 pound bales. The greater number of bales shipped to South Africa weigh 112 pounds, the English hundredweight. WILL HELP ARMY SURGEONS. Snrgreon fSenernl StornhrrK Propnm Two Hill* for Presentation to C»n»fresM, Surgeon General Sternberg has pre pared two bills intended to correct, an injustice to volunteer and acting as sistant surgeons in the army through a construction of law made by the comptroller. The first, is an. act for the relief of acting assistant surgeons. It. appears that- under the comp troller's decision if .one of these offi cers falls ill or is even shot or wound ed in the line of duty his pay must cease during the period of his disabil ity. To meet this ruling the stirgcnn general lias prepared a bill conferring u]xm these officers the same rights and privileges as commissioned offi cers of the regular army and provid ing for the payment of their salaries during absence. The other ruling of the comptroller is that notwithstanding the volunteer army act providing for the assign menit. of an. assistant surgeon with the rank of captain to each regiment ol volunteers such officers cam only re ceive the pay of a lieutenant, this- con struction being based on a regular army requirement that medical offi cers shall serve live years in the grade of lieutenant before becoming entitled to a captain's ]«iy. To meet this di.'Ti eulty Surgeon General Sternberg has prepared a. bill specifically pro'idi'.'g for the payment of the salary of a cup tain, mounted, to such assistant sur geons. THEY STAND TEST. Antomoblle Fire HnKinen Arc ceimfnlly rued in nn Experi ment in I'nriN. The cable dispatches announcing that, automobiles had proven a succes:- in connection with the fire departn.t nt in New York finds an echo in I'aris, where an electric hose cart, designed and constructed by the technical sec tion of the Paris fire brigade under the direction of Capitaine Ingenieur Cor dier, has • tood the test of practical ex perience and is now working in admira ble fashion. At several fires it arrived before engines und hose carts draw n ly horses. The fire department lias ordered sit other electric fire extinguishing nui chines of different models, including a hook and ladder and steam fire en gines, which will be used should occa sion demand in connection with ihe exposition in 1900. The motive power of the hose cart now in use is supplied by an invention of MM. Bouquet, Garcon and Schiorc, of Neuilly sur Seine. Growth of the Telephone Syateiii. It is stilted that the close of this year will s-ce 3,500 independent telephone exchanges in operation, having over 750,000 instruments. In ISSO there were under rental use in the country 60,873 telephones. One year later the number had increased to l.'ts,G92. In 1898 the number of telephones in use was oxer 1,000,000. In 18S5 there was in use in the various systems and modes of build ing 137,223 miles of telephone wire. At the beginning of this year the mileage had increased to 1,158,000 miles. The use of the telephone is more common in the United States than in any other country. Nen lloof for CryNtal Palace. An entire new glass covering has been, ordered for tlie roof of the Cry s tal palace in London. The total glass, urea tc be covered is about 15 acres. IftiK'c l>on<itioiiK. The Methodists of England intend to gather $5,000,000 before the end of the century. Since January $3,750,- 000 has been donated. 17
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers