6 THE EVENING PRAYER. Tired eyes are gently closing As the twilight droppeth down, Wrapping »»tth the veil of slumber Hill and valley, dale and town; 1 Softly 11111* hands are folded As the shadows closer creep— Sinless Hps of childhood murmur "Now J lay me down to sleep." Down life's pathway stretching onward* Ijieth snares unseen, unknown, Waiting for their coming footsteps— But the Father guards His own; And, as stainless as In childhood. He will guide by pitfalls deep, sf, as now, they plead: "I pray Thee— Pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep." Wow the tender mother, listening, Feels her pulses thrill with fear. As she fancies, in the shadow, Death, the dark-robed, lurking near; And with throbbing heart she questions How the sacrifice to make, At the low words, scarcely spoken; "Should I die before 1 wake." Slumber now has almost won them, Droops the lashes lower still. While a sweet and holy presence All the twilight seems to fill; And the listening Saviour only, As the words their lips forsake, Hears the last half-uttered whisper: "Pray—Thee—Lord—my soul—to take." —Ettle Gilbert McNeil, in Ram's Horn. [Copyright. 1897, by F Tennyson Neeiy.] CHAPTER XXI.—CONTINUED. It was an impressive scene as the old soldier read the sad details to the rapidly growing group of weeping women, for that was Emory's garri son now, while the official reports were hurried onto catch the general •on his way to Cheyenne. Some one warned the band leader, and the musicians marched away to quarters. Come one bore the news to town, where the flags over the hotel and the one newspaper office were at •once lowered to half staff, although that at Emory, true to official eti quette and tradition, remained until further orders at the peak, despite the fact that two of the annihilated •companies were from that very post. Come one bore the news to Burleigh's quarters at the depot, and, despite assertions that the major could see no one and must not be agitated or •disturbed, disturbed and agitated he was beyond peradventure. Excitedly the sick man sprang from his bed at the tidings of the massacre and be gan penning a letter. Then he sum moned a young clerk from his office and told him he had determined to get up at once, as now every energy of the government would doubtless be put forth to bring the Sioux to terms. It was the young clerk who a few weeks back had remarked to a fellow employe how "rattled" the old man was getting. The major's doctor was not about. The major began dictat ing letters to various officials as he rapidly dressed, and what happened C#n best be told in the clerk's own words: "For a man too sick to see anyone two hours before," said he, "the major had wonderful recupera tive powers, but they didn't last. He •was in the midst of a letter to the •chief quartermaster, and had got as far as to say: 'The deplorable and tragic fate of Lieut. Dean points, of course, to the loss of the large sum intrusted to him,' when I looked up anfl said: 'Why, Lieut. Dean ain't dead, major; he got in all right,' and he stared at me a minute as if I had stabbed him. His face turned yellow-white and down he went like • log—had a fit, I s'pose. Then I ran for help, and then the doctor •came and hustled everybody out." But not till late that night did these details reach "Old Pecksniff" at the post. A solemn time was that ▼eteran having, for many of the wom en were almost in hysterics and all were in deep distress. Two of their •umber, wives of officers, were wid owed by the catastrophe, and one lay senseless for hours. It was almost dark when Mr. Fofcsom and the girls •drove homeward, and his face was lined and haggard. Pappoose nestled londiy, silently at his side, holding fcis hand and closely scanning his features, as though striving to read Lis thoughts. Jessie, comforted now by the knowledge" that Marshall was rapidly recovering, and the words of praise bestowed upon him in the colonel's letters, was nevertheless in deep anxiety as to the future. The assurance that the Sioux, even in their overwhelming numbers, would not attack a stockade, was not suf ficient. Marshall would be on duty again within a very few days, the colonel said. His wounds would heal within the week, and it was only loss of so much blood that had prostrated him. Within a few days, then, her loved brother would be in saddle and in the field against the Indians. Who could assure her they would not have another pitched battle? Who could ■ay that the fate that befell the gar rison at Warrior Gap might not await the troop when next it rode away? And poor Jess had other anxieties, too, by this time. Loomis was burn ing with eagerness for orders to lead it instantly to join the field column, and importuned Col. Stevens, even in the midst of all the grief and shock of the early evening. Almost angrily the veteran colonel bade him attend to his assigned duties and not de mand others. "C" troop should not with his advice and consent be sent north of the Platte. "First thing you know, sir, after they've got ail the troops up along the Big Horn 11 sec tluj Sioux iju force this side of the river, murdering right and left, and not a company to oppose them. >'o, sir, more than enough of that troop have already been sacri ficed! The rest shall stay here." And well was it, for one and all, that ' Old Pecksniff" held firm to his decision. It was one of his lucid in tervals. Late that evening, after ten o'clock, there came the t-ound of hoofbeats on the hard road and the crack of a long-lashed mule-whip, and the fort ambulance clattered up to Folsom's gate, and the colonel himself, his ad jutant by his side, came nervously up the gravel walk. Folsom met them at his door. Instinctively he felt that something new and startling was add ed to the catalogue of the day's dis astrous tidings. Pecksniff's face was eloquent cf gravest concern, mingled with irrepressible excitement. "Let nie see you in private, quick," he said. "Mr.—ah—Mr. Adjutant, will you kindly remain in the parlor." and, taking Folsom by the elbow, Pecksniff led impetuously into the li brary. Hie girls had gone aloft only a moment before, but, dreading news of further evil, Pappoose came flut tering down. "Go in and welcome the adjutant, dear," said Folsom, hurriedly. "The colonel and I have some matters to talk of." Obediently, she turned at once, and, glancing up the stairs, noticed that Mrs. Fletcher's door must have been suddenly opened, for the light from her room was now streaming on the third-floor balus ters. Listening again! What could be the secret of that woman's in tense watchfulness? In the parlor the young staff officer was pacing up and down, but his face lighted at sight of Elinor. "Do you know —Is there anything new? —anj thing worse?" she quickly asked, as she gave her slim young hand. "Not concerning our people," was the significant answer. "But I fear there's more excitement coming." Barely waiting for Elinor to with draw, Pecksniff" had turned on Fol som. "You know I opposed the send ing of that party? You know it was all ordered on Burleigh's urging and representations, do you not?" "Yes, I heard so," said Folsom. "What then?" "You know he planned the whole business —sent 'em around by Canyon Springs and the Sweetwater?" "Ifes, I heard that, too," said Fol som, still wondering. "You know some one must have put that Birdsall gang on the scent, and that Burleigh has had alleged nerve prostration ever since, and has been too ill to see anyone or to leave his bed." "Yes, so we were told." "Well, he's well enough to be up and away—God knows where, and here is the reason—just in from the north," and, trembling with excite ment, Pecksniff pointed to the closing paragraph of the letter in his hand: "Cords, seals and wrapping were Intact when handed to the quartermaster, but the contents were noticing but worthless pa per. It must have been so when given to Lieut. Dean." Folsom's eyes were popping from his head. He sank into a chair, gaz ing up in consternation. "Don't you see, man!" said Peck sniff, "some one in the depot is short SIO,OOO or so. Some one hoped to cover this shortage in just this way— to send a little squad with a bogus package, and then turn loose the big gest gang of ruffians in the country. They would have got it but for the storm at Canyon Springs, and no one would have been the wiser. They couldn't have got it without a mur derous fight. No one would ever dare confess his complicity in it. No state ment of theirs that there wasn't a cent in the sack could ever be be lieved. Some one's shortage would be covered and his reputation saved. The plot failed, and God's mercy was over Dean's head. He'd 'a' been mur dered or ruined if the plan worked— and now Burleigh's gone!" CHAPTER XXII. Yes, Burleigh was gone, and there was confusicm at the depot. At six the doctor had come forth from his room, saying he was better, but must not be disturbed. At seven the major, carry ing a satchel, had appeared at his of fice, where two clerks were smoking their pipes, innocent of all thought of their employer's coming. It was after hours. They had no business there at the time. Smoking was prohibited in the oflice, yet it was the major who seemed most embarrassed at the unex pected meeting. It was the major who hastily withdrew. He was traced to the railway, and it was speedily found that he had sent word to the division superintendent that the general had tel egraphed for him to join him at once at Cheyenne, and a special engine and caboose would be needed. At a quarter past seven this had started full speed. It was 11 when the discovery was made. Meantime Folsom and Stevens had con sulted together. Folsom had told of the large sum he had loaned Burleigh and the conditions attached, and be tween them a dispatch, concisely set ting forth their suspicions, was sent, the general at Cheyenne, with orders to "rush," as they were determined if possible to head oh the fugitive at that point. Back came the wire ten minutes before midnight that the general had left Cheyenne for Laramie by stage that evening, and must now be near the Chugwater and far from telegraphic communication. Then Stevens wired the sheriff at Cheyenne and the com manding officer of the new post of Fort Russell to stop Burleigh at all hazards, and at two in the morning the answer catne that the major had reached Chey enne about midnight and they would search everywhere for him. This was the last until long after the rising of another sun. • Events and excitements, alarms and rumors followed each other with start CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 28, 1901. ling rapidity during the day. In glar ing headlines the local paper published th« details of the massacre at the Clap, lauding th>« valor and devotion of the soldiers, but heaping abuse upon the commander of the post, who, with other troops at his disposal, had looked on and lifted no hand to aid them. Later, of c»urse, it was proved that the veteran had foiled old Red Cloud's vil lainous plan to lure the whole garrison into the open country and there sur round and slowly annihilate it, while then, or at their leisure later, his chosen ones should set tire to the un protected stockade and bear off those of the women or children whose years did not commend them to the mercy of the hatchet. Soldiers and thinking men soon saw the colonel was right and that the only mistake he had made was in allowing any of the garrison to go forth at all.. But this verdict was not published, except long after as un important news and in some obscure corner. The Laramie column, so the news ran, was hastening down the Powder river to strike Red Cloud. The Indians would be severely punished, etc., etc. But old Folsom's face grew whiter as he read that such orders had been sent and that the general himself was now at Laramie directing matters. "In God's name," urged he, "if you have any influence with the general, tell him not to send a foot column chasing horsemen anywhere, and above all not to follow down the Powdei Next thing you know Red Cloud and all his young men will have slipped around their flank and come galloping back to the Platte, leaving the old men and women and wornout ponies to make tracks for the 'heap walks' to follow." And Stevens listened dumbly. In fluence he had never had. Folsom 'might be right, but it was a matter in which he was powerless. When a depot quartermaster, said he, could dictate the policy that should govern the command of a colonel of the fight ing force, there was no use in remon strance. Noon came and no news from the Cheyenne sheriff. The com manding officer at Russell wired that he, too, was stripped of his troops, and had not even a cavalry courier to send after the general with the startling news that Maj. Burleigh had vanished with large sums, it was believed, in his possession. At one o'clock came tidings of the fugitive. He, together with two other men, had spent the late hours of the night at the lodgings of one of the party in Cheyenne, and at dawn had driven away in a "rig" hired at a local stable, ostensibly to follow the gen- The major hastily withdrew. eral to Laramie. They had kept the road northwestward on leaving town —were seen passing along the prairie beyond Fort Russell, but deputies, sworn in at once and sent in pur suit, came back to say the rig had never gone as far as Lodge Pole. At six p. m. came further tidings. Lieut. Loring, engineer officer of the de partment, had reached Cheyenne and was in consultation with the com manding officer at Russell. The rig had been found at Sloan's ranch, far up Crow creek, where the party had taken horses and ridden westward into the Black Hills. In anticipation of a big reward, the sheriff had dep uties out in pursuit. From such in formation as they could gather it was learned that the name of one of the parties gone with Burleigh was New hall, who claimed to be a captain in the army, "out there looking after in vestments"—a captain who was too busy, however, togo and see the few fellows of his cloth at the new post and who was not known to them by sight at all. The engineer, Mr. Lor ing, was making minute inquiries about this fellow, for the description given him had excited not a little of his interest. And so the sun of the second day went down on Gate City and Emory, and everybody knew Burleigh was gone. The wildest rumors were afloat, and while all Fort Emory was in mourning over the tragedy at Warrior Gap, everybody in town seemed more vividly concerned in Burleigh and the cause of his sud den flight. As yet only certain army officers and Mr. Folsom knew of the startling discovery at the stockade —that the package was a bogus affair throughout. But all Gate City knew Burleigh had drawn large sums from the local bank, many citizens had heard that John Folsom was several thousand dollars the poorer for his ■udden going, and all interest was. centered in the coming from Chicago of an expert summoned by wire, to open the huge office safe at the quar termaster's depot. The keys had gone with Burleigh. At the last moment, after loading up with all the cash his own private safe con tained, for that was found open and practically empty in its corner of his sitting-room, and when he had evidently gone to the office to get the funds there stored, he was confound ed by the sight of the two employes. He could have ordered them to leave and then helped himself, but con science had made coward of liiin, even more than nature, lie saw accusers in every face, and fled. Burleigh ha 4 lost his nerve. Two days went by anrt excitement was at its height. All manner of evil report of Burleigh was now afloat The story vi the tragus package had been noised abroad through later messengers and dispatches from the Gap. Lieut. Loring had come to Fort Emory under the instructions of the department commander, and what those instructions were no man could find out from the reticent young offi cer. If ever a youth seemed capahlo of hearing everything and telling nothing it was this scientist of a dis tinguished corps that frontiersmen knew too little of. What puzzled Fol som and old Pecksniff was the per sistence with which he followed up his inquiries about Capt. Newhall. He even sought an interview with Pap poose and asked her to describe the rakish traveler who had so unfavor ably impressed her. She was looking her loveliest that evening. Jessie was radiant once more. A long letter had come from Marshall—sad because of the fate that had befallen his com panions, stern because of the evi dence of the deep-laid plot that so nearly made him a victim, but mod estly glad of the official commenda tion he had received, and rejoicing over the surgeon's promise that he i could be well enough to make the march with a command ordered back to Frayne. Red Cloud's people had scattered far and wide, said he. "God grant they may not turn back to the south." He was coming home. He would soon be there. The papers had told their readers this very morning that the general had plainly said his force was too small to risk further assault upon the Sioux. Alarmed at the result of its policy, the bureau had recommended immediate aban donment of Warrior Gap and the withdrawal of the troops from the Big Horn country. The war department, therefore, had to hold its hand. The Indians had had by long, long odds the best of the fight, and per haps would be content to let well enough alone. All this had tended to bring hope to the hearts of most of the girls, and Loring's welcome was the more cordial because of this and because of his now known champion ship of Marshall's cause. From be ing a fellow under the ban of suspi cion and the cloud of official censure, Marshall Dean was blossoming out as a hero. It was late in the evening when Folsom brought the young en gineer from the hotel and found Elinor and Jessie in the musicroom, with Pecksniff's adjutant and Loomis in devoted attendance. It was nearly 11 when the officers left—two re turning to the fort, Loring lingering for a word with Folsom at the gate. The night was still and breathless. The stars gleamed brilliantly aloft, but the moon was young and had early gone to bed. A window in the third story softly opened, as the two men stopped for their brief confer ence—the one so young-looking, stur dy and alert, despite the frost of so many winters; the other so calm and judicial, despite his youth. [To Be Continued ! HUNTING OSTRICH NESTS. Hidden Deep In (lie Desert Snnd They Are Kxtremely Hard to Find. Although the skin of an ostrich is worth from S4O to SIOO on the spot, the hunter of the desert usually pre fers to search for the eggs when he has discovered an ostrich in flight. An English traveler in the Sahara, Mr. H. B. Tristram, describes this search, says Youth's Companion. "Once, and once only, T had the good fortune to take an ostrich's nest, al though fresh eggs were not infre quently brought in by the Arabs. We observed with our telescopes two b'.rds standing for some time in the same spo* and were induced to ride toward them. Thej - rapidly scudded off, but on intersecting their track we turned back and retraced it instead of continuing a vain, pursuit. "An ostrich's track is by no means easy either to follow or to retrace, for his stride measures, when he is at full speed, from 22 to 28 feet; and the oblong impression of two toes at so wide intervals affords no very evident track to any eyes less expert than those of a Bedouin huntsman. "We retraced the impression to the spot where we had seen the birds standing together, and where the sand was well trodden down. Two Arabs at once dismounted and began to dig with their hands, and presently they brought up four fresh eggs from a depth of about a foot under the warm sand. "Ostrich-egg omelet we always found a most welcome addition to our desert bill of fare, and a convenient and port able provision, for from the thickness of the shell the eggs keep perfectly sweet and fresh for a fortnight or three weeks." New I.light on History. Nero, fiddle in hand, sat upon his throne when a little band of captives was led before him. "Now," he roared, in royal tones, "you have your choice between hear ing me play a study in cadenzas with the middle finger on the E string, or being burned alive at the matinee at the Coliseum." "Bring on your torches," shouted the desperate captives. Later on Nero fiddled, and burned things, and conducted himself ir. an outrageous manner. "I hate to do this,"he explained, "but they depend on me for some warm scenes in 'Quo Vadis.'"—Balti more American. Very True, Says an old bachelor: "Before tak ing the leap through the wedding rin; a man should be sure the net of conni' bial bliss is properly stretched on th other side." — Daily News. AN IMPROVED GRANARY. Cp-to-l)al« Storehouse for Cora Which 1m Absolutely Safe from i'.nt-rout'huiem ts by Vermin, The dimensions of my granary—you see 1 have got past the corn crib period entirely—are as follows: Length, sills, 18 feet; plates, 20 feet; width, 14 feet; total length of posts, 12 feet; height of floor from the ground, 3>/ t feet. These dimensions may vary, ac cording to the amount of grain to lie stored. Wide strips of tin shield the tops of the posts from the invasion of rats and mice. Inside the plan is as follows: Corn in the back part, the crib running across the end, and on each side a row of grain bins. These are arranged so that the ends nearest the alley be tween, which is four feet wide, may be removed in case they are not needed. These empty bins afford store room for a corn sheller, or for bran or other feed. A loose floor overhead also fur nishes epaee for putting away many articles which might otherwise be east around anywhere. The inside is lined with matched southern pine three eighths thick. The outside is bat tened, and the boards being surfaced the whole is painted. The entire ex pense of this granary was not far from $75, and I have received the compli ment that it is the best job I have done in the way of building, and I have spent a small fortune in that line. In fact, it pleases me exactly. I never have seen but two mice in this gran ary, and those I carried in with empty bags; and, as may be supposed, I was on nettles until they had been found and settled with. I got the cat as quick as I could and entered upon the most exciting hunt I ever took part in. It beat the famous fox hunts of the city folks who come out to kill time *ll hollow. And I succeeded, which is more than the city chaps who hunt for the fun of the thing can often say. In my granary I keep my corn knives, corn ties and bags—every thing, in fact, that concerns corn and garden stuff. The satisfaction of knowing that what I raise is now free 0 ' : r llFlir GRANARY AND CORN CRIB. from the encroachments of vermin is fully sufficient of itself to amply repay all my trouble. But the return in dol lars and cents far surpasses one's be lief. If we could see the amount of money which is wasted every year through poor granaries all brought together it would startle us. Every farmer knows that he suffers serious ly from year to year, but most of us have come to take it as a matter of course. But really it is one of the leaks which help to sink the ship.—Ed gar L. Vincent, in Farm and Fireside. GRADE UP THE FLOCK. Start Right by Getting a Good Itooit er, One That Has Ileen Bred It litlt t and Is It Ik lit. Have you got that strong, vigorous cockerel to grade up your flock, to in crease the egg yield and build up the size of the birds you sell to market? It is quite time the bird was in the breeding pen,becoming acquainted with his mates and preparing for the spring's duties. It is an old and familiar axiom that the male is half the pen. He may be mated to a dozen females, hence the chicks have any one of a dozen moth ers, but he is the father of all and im parts his vigor and personality to all the chicks. Not only shoilld this head of the family be a pure-bred male, but he should be a bird of real merit, bred with care and for a purpose. Such a bird has the power to reproduce him self and will certainly improve next season's flock. A well-bred cockerel, one bred from meat producing and egg laying ancestry, will decidedVy im prove the laying qualities of the pullets and increase the size as well. It is a common mistake to breed from anything left over from the holiday killings, because nothing else is at hand. Don't repeat that mistake this year. Start right by getting a good male bird, one that has been bred right and is right; and his cost will be re turned to you many times over in the laying vigor of his pullets and in creased size of the chickens marketed. Get a pure-bred male for this year's breeding; get him now.—Practical Farmer. OH Cake for Old Hens. For invigorating a lot of old hens which are slow in responding to the sfforts to make them produce winter eggs, we ltnow of nothing better than a spoonful of oilwtke meal three times a week. If the hens in the meantime have not been overfed with grain a change in their appearance and actions will be noticeable within a week. There will be an added liveliness of motion, a more erect carriage and a general ap pearance of thriftiness which will presage a coming harvest of eggs. Otli »r things being about, right, this will seldom fail to bring the sluggish old hen* to times. —Fiu-mars' Voice. FARMING IN WESTERN CANADA The Great Natural Fertility of the Soil in Manitoba, Assiniboia, Sas katchewan arid Alberta. What I las Ileen Dune by Premier Cireeuway, Iflmn-elf a Leading; Farmer, lion. Thomas Greenway, Premier of the Province of Manitoba, one of the foremost farmers of Western Canada, writes an excellent article to the press, from which the following extracts are made: The writer came to Manitoba from Ontario in the autumn of 1878, and lias ever since been engaged in ag ricultural pursuits. From the day, nearly 22 years ago, when he select ed his homestead, he has had un bounded faith in the country as a place where farming can be success fully carried on, if pursued upon proper lines. There is a large num ber in this Province who should rath er be called "wheat-growers" than farmers. On account of the facil ities, natural advantages, and there fore cheapness with which wheat can be grown, no doubt many have done exceedingly well by raising wheat only; still, it is far from ideal farm ing. Not only will such a course, if parsisted in.have the effect of caus ing the land to run out, as has been the experience of those who pursued the same plan in the wheat-produc ing prairie States to the south of us, but it is far from being the most profitable course to adopt. This fact is already being demon strated in Manitoba. Let the farms in this Vtestern country be managed upon the lines which were successful in the Eastern Provinces, and much more can be done here in a given time than was ever done in the East. The probabilities of failure are prac tically nil. Upon the farm there should be found horses, cattle, sheep, hogs and poultry, according to the ability of the farmer—with respect to his means and the extent of his holding. The wanton waste which has hitherto been practiced by many farmers, that of burning vast quan tities of excellent fodder after threshing is done, should cease; it should all be used upon the farm and converted into the old, sensible kind of fertilizer manure, and after wards be returned to the soil, so that what has been taken from it by the crop may be restored. Al though admitting that the great nat ural fertility of the soil in Manitoba and the success that has attended the growing of wheat for years upon the same land have a tendency to make such a course as the one mentioned tempting, yet, if continued, wheat growing upon the same land year after year is undoubtedly a mistake. The writer knows of no country that offern advantages so great to the ag riculturist as does Manitoba. The vraious branchds of farming can be parried on successfully, as twenty two years of practical operations and observations of what others are do ing have proven. To those desiring to make new homes for themselves, the low price of some of the best lands in the world (although rapidly advancing in price this year) offer still great opportunities. To all such the invitation is cordially given to "Come and See." There need be no poor people here. There is land for all who choose to come, land upon which happy homes can be estab lished, and from which ample re sources can be gathered against old age. All that a man needs to achieve competence in this domain is com mon-sense and industry. With these qualifications he is bound to succeed. For information regarding free homestead lands, apply to any agent of the government whose advertise ment appears elsewhere in these col umns. Chenp Rates to California. February 12th and each Tuesday there after, until and including April 30th, Special Low Rate Colonist Tickets will be sold via the Southern Pacific's Company's "Ogden" and "Sunset" Routes to all points in Califor nia. The rate will be: From Chicago $30.00, from St. Louis, Memphis and New Orleans $27.50, from Omaha, Kansas City, etc., $25.00. Corresponding low rates from all other points east and north. For particulars and detailed information pertaining to the Southern Pacific Com pany's Routes, and these special rates to Cal ifornia, call upon or address W. G. Neimyer, G. W. A., S. P. Co., 238 Clark St., Chicago, 111. W. 11. Connor, C. A., S. P. Co., Chamber of Commerce B!dg., Cincinnati, Ohio. G. G. Herring, C. A., S. P. Co., 711 Park Bldg., Pittsburg, Pa. L. E. Townsley, C. A., S. P. Co., 421 Oiive St., St. Louis, Mo. ('. C. Gary, C. A., S. P. Co., 208 Sheidley Bidg., Kansas City, Mo. Pride is the fog that surrounds insignifi cance.—Chicago Daily News. I'roof of the I'uddiits. Ten hours between New York and Buf falo means excellent travelling and w4ien 1 say I travelled at the rate ot sixty milea an hour, gathered no dirt, and was not bothered with dust, you can believe me when I say my steel graj: travelling cos tume was as clean when I stepped off at Buffalo as when I said "Au Revoir" at Ho boken. The Lackawanna is a route worthy of the attention of all who wish to travel in lux ury, in absolute cleanliness, and in security. The "proof of the pudding is in the eat ing," and the Lackawanna Limited will be a favorite train with ladies visiting the Pan- American Exposition.—Marie Jarboe, in Toilettes. Many a man is toasted who needs to be roasted. —Atchison < ilobe. Try Graln-Ot Try Grnln-O! Ask your grocer to-day to show you a pack age of GRAIN-O, the new food drink that takes the place of coffee. The children may drink it without injury as well as the adult. All who try it, like it. GRAIN-O has that rich seal brown of Mocha or Java, but it is made from pure grains, and the most dedicate stomach raceives it without distress. the price of coffee. 15c. and 25cts. per package. Sold by all grocers. A dog'a tail is something of a wag.—Chi cago Daily News. Snvf tlic Ilnby When suffering from Croup, Coughs, Colda and Bronchitis byusingHoxsie'sCoughCure promptly. No opium. No nausea. SO cbi.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers