FOR THE BRAVE i HERE ar> blossoms ln the clover. , there is music ln I Ancl a wealth of buds Is falling y J And the muffled ■ V\ « drum is beating, \ and one flag in glory waves Where the sunshine robes ln Splendor's garb a multitude of graves; To the music of the river as it flows un vexed and free. Bearing outward to the nations Freedom's latest prophecy, March a people. Fame's descendants, with the summer's sweetest bloom. Which the dew shall crown with glory on the hero's silent tomb. In the sunburst of the morning, every loyal heart to thrill. Come the echoes of the muskets that were heard at Bunker Hill; And the roses and the lilies in the shadow and the shine 1.,! eon the breasts of those who stood one day at Brandywlne; 'Neath the hemlocks and the cedars, 'neath the vines that greet the sun, The Continentals sleep beside the Men of '6l; And the country, reunited by a love that can't be told, Sees the modest flower blooming in the cannon ruts of old. Down the street, beloved by thousands, march the vet'rans, old and gray— The comrades of the brave who rest this fair Memorial day, Ar.d they bring May's sweetest blossoms to the boys who with thorn stood. Where often raged the battle fierce deep ln the Southern wood; No more the ringing bugle blast, no more the cannon's roar, No more the gloomy picket post along the ghostly shore; But side by side this sacred day beneath the spreading tree, With elbows touching, silent stand the men of Grant and Lee. Columbia walks the guarded aisles with soft and holy tri ad Where fall the shades of Arlington above her hero dead; Not long ago she stood and heard the dirge's mournful strain O'er those who came in martial shrouds from Cuba's gun-kiss'd plain; Ar.d from hr hands the bright, -t bloom that decks the lit Id and wold Falls gently on the bosoms of the tender and the bold; And silent tears are falling from the far thest nor'.hern pina • To where the solden orange hangs above the ocean's line. Bring the fairest of the blossoms to re crown the hero's tomb! for this kind nature proudly yields the splendor of her bloom; The skies are bright above us and the river sings its lay, One Flag, one Country ar.d one Love the Nation knows to-day; We crown the humblest and the great, alike the flowers fall With prayer and love ar.d gratitude upon the breasts of all; Ah, me! The drums are beating, for the flowers have been spread, And we march to newer grandeur from the bivouac of our dend. —T. C. Harbaugli, In Ledger Monthly. "y H „ SURFIU« ERI Stary of ttiefilue and it?e Gray, W/V surdly unreason ]j fatln •r, whoadored her, was forced to Fi •ances used to shake her der.r, white head, and sigh mildly. "The child has «tayed abroad too long," she would say. "Her brain is tilled with old world notions. Conditions have ■changed, and America has grown too fast for her." Hut when they attempted to re monstrate with Clarissa, that im perious young person would get into a towering rage "Then there is no such thing as principle?" she would inquire, with ■withering sarcasm. "You didn't lose most of your property to the ma rauding northerners! You weren't forced to come from your own dear Maryland to this cold, bleak New England! You didn't bring your slaves along, after you had freed them of your own accord! Although most of them insisted upon remaining with you—to their credit. You're not my Grandfather Colonel because of your bravery at Antietam! You didn't sac rifice your only son, my father, to "the lost cause! His death didn't kill my grandmother and my mother! Oh, *10! I must have dreamed it all!" "My dear! my dear!" grandfather "would remonstrate, sadly. "(iod knows I acted as 1 thought best; per haps I was mistaken. Hut.conditions are changed, and it is the part of wis dow to conform to them." "But the principle remains the •same, grandfather!" would be the proud response; and Clarissa would weep a few obstinate tears upon the silky hair of Fifine, the French poodle which she had brought from abroad, and which, all told, was a most detestable little beast. "Fifine, •darling, we belong to the Owings fam ily, of Maryland, don't we, pet? And what do we think of the star-span gled banner?" and then Fifine would snarl and whine viciously, while Her pretty mistress caressed and en couraged her. Grandfather was distressed, but he was forced to smile at the absurdity of it all. "To be a rebel has gone out 112 fashion, my dear," he would say, .eprecatingly; but Clarissa continued to regard herself as an alien, to heap fresh flowers daily Defore the pic ture of her beloved Winnie Davis, as before a shrine; to quote Father Hyan's stanzas upon the lost cause, and to deify the Lees and other he roes of the confederacy. She was 23 11 ow, aud she had been at schools in France find England since she was 12, shortly after her father's death, and that of her moth er, which quickly followed. As Aunt Frances said, America had grown too fast ■for her. There had been many changes in the neighborhood during her ab sence. On what had been Grand mother Owings' old-fashioned flower garden a handsome modern dwelling had been erected, and the two fam ilies used the dividing driveway in common. Down this driveway, sev eral times each day, an athletic young man was wont togo, laden with golf sticks, riding a wheel, armed with gun or fishing tackle, or erect upon the back of a spirited black horse, which from the first had been Fit)tie's es pecial detestation. As in another celebrated and classical case, the neighborhood caused their acquaint ance in the Tirst steps of love. Even England and France could produce no more splendid specimen of man hood than was Robert ilale, as Clar issa was forced to admit to her un willing self. Perhaps that was why the winter which followed her home-coming A FLAG, WHICH HE PROCEEDED TO RUN UP THE STAFF. proved such a pleasant one. As the weeks went by there was joy in both households over the very evident in terest which the young 1 people took in each other. They were not aware of the plans for their future which Aunt Frances so frequently discussed with Robert's widowed mother. In fact, they were not conscious of much beyond the joy of living, of propin quity, of the sympathy and under standing which existed between them, of a community of tastes and inter ests. Together they marveled at the miracle of life through death, ia opening bud, and leaf, and flower; but so far no word of love had been spoken between them. They were young; there was no need of haste. It was the springtide of life, as well as the springtide of the year. But— Hard if these Found not a way to show their secret each to each; And so they did; And one heart's llower-dust into the other slid. That Clarissa, imperious and exact ing with all others, should be sweetly submissive to him, was, in itself, the most subtle flattery. When Kobert Hale heard her opinions and comments upon the causes of a contest which was fast becoming merely a tradition, he only smiled indulgently, lenient to '.hem, as he would have been lenient to any whimsical fancies on the part of the woman whom he loved. The first clashing of their wills came late in the spring, when Kobert was offered and accepted the office of cap tain of the newly-organized company of SODS of Veterans. He was surprised and amused at the imperiousness with which Clarissa drew herself up, proud as another Juno, and condemned his act. "Xo man could' offer me a more dead ly hurt!" she announced, tragically. "My father was wounded at the battle of lielmont. Those wounds ultimate ly caused his death. Who knows that your very father wasn't the northern er who shot him!" "And my father was wounded at Petersburg 1 ," was the solemn response. "For the rest of his life he went around with only one arm. It seems like your father might have fired the shot which deformed one of the handsomest men that ever lived." She knew that he was purposely mimicking her affected use of the southern like; but she would not tin bend. He leaned his arm over l'lack Don's glossy neck, and regarded her mischievously. "What an irony of fate, Clarissa!" he said, teasingly, as he stood gazing at her with a fondness which she haughtily ignored. "How ever did it happen that you should have the blue eyes, while mine should be the gray?" As Memorial day approached, how ever, the breach between them grew undeniably serious. The older mem bers of both households smiled, and shook their heads knowingly, and moralized on the inevitableness of lovers' quarrels. Aunt Frances rash ly took it upon herself to remonstrate wit h her niece, for liobert was her spe cial favorite, and she could l not bear to have him made unhappy by Claris sa's caprices. She was unprepared, however, for the rebuff which she met. "Please don't ever mention Mr. Hale's name to me again, Aunt Frances. I have found him out —an CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MAY 30, 1901. advantage which I appreciate. Better to know his faults now than when it might be too late!" But Clarissa was by no means happy in what she glorified as her adherence to principle. She was fearfully and pathetically lonely, utul she tried not to hear when the black horse and liit rider dashed down the driveway on their way to the drills and parades, which became so frequent with the nearness of Memorial day. The misunderstanding had deepened now; for there had been other and hit ter words, and each studiously avoided looking in the direction oV the other when they met, which was but rarely. Fair as a garden of the Lord was the countryside upon the morning of Memorial day; but Clarissa could see no beauties in nature as she moped in the sewing-room which overlooked the driveway, confiding her unliappiness to petted, snarling Kifitie. Out at the stable the groom was put ting the saddle on Black Don—for the coming parade, she knew; and pres ently Robert appeared at the side door carrying a flag, which he proceeded to run up the staff on the lawn. "How handsome he looks in his uni- form;" the girl meditated with bitter ness, as she peered through the sash curtains in jealous inspection of his every movement. "Horrid 1 thing! It wouldn't hurt him to at least glance in this direction!" But Robert was evidently too busy; and it irritated the watcher as he be gan to whistle softly, and then to sing in an absent-minded fashion, as he bent over a knot in the halyards: "There's just one girl in the world forme!" Oh, was she the girl? Clarissa asked herself feverishly; but there was no one to answer the ques tion only Fifine, who yawned lazily and snapped at the lace upon her mistress' sleeves. "I could be happy forever with just one girl!" Robert kept on singing with cruel unction as he stood back and watched the folds of Old 1 Glory un furl, as they blew out from the mast head, catching the soft May breeze. Then Clarissa could bear it no longer. She buried her face in the couch cush ions and found refuge in that relief for all feminine woes—a good cry; while Eifine, disturbed in her morning nap, whined dismally. Such an exasperating day as it proved! There were bands and mili tary companies, mid everywhere the stars and stripes were flying. Grand father was in bed, suffering from a new ache in his wounded shoulder—a memory of Antietam; and this fur nished the girl a pretext for keeping all the shutters closed and making theirs the only dismal house along the avenue as the parade went by. With white face and set lips she hid behind the blind, and sadly followed with tearful eyes the erect figure of Capt. Hale as lie rode past at the head of his company. "Oh, Eifine!" she murmured, sor rowfully. "1 always knew that he was proud. But at least he might have glanced at the house, if not at me!" It was evening when she heard him return. Black Don was proud, though weary after the heat and con» fusion of the day, and turned slowly in between the high stone gate post«s of the driveway—and then, well, Clar issa never knew exactly how it hap pened; but of a sudden tlier; was a mad rush of a little white bundle of silky hair from the porch, the de fiant yaps and snarls of Fifine as she snapped at the black horse's feet, and Capt. Hale, caught off his guard, had been thrown by the shying horse, striking his head against the ( ruel edge of the big stone post. That was the last of which Clarissa was conscious. Then, for the first time in her 23 healthy years, she fainted. That fact remains yet her own in violable secret; for nobody remem bered her during the excitement which followed. After a time she "came to,"and, athletic golf girl that she was, felt properly ashamed of her own weakness. Then it was that she learned the worst. Malicious Fifine had frightened Black Don, and ('apt Hale was ingloriously lyirg on the library couch, with his right arm in splints, and an ugly gash upon his right temple. "He must not die until he has for given me!" Clarissa cried hysterically to Aunt Frances, as she unceremo niously bundled her willing relative across the intervening driveway and the ia'.vns to the Hale mansion, where all was sorrow at the mWiap which had followed the glorious beginning of the day. Clarissa expected reproaches from Robert Hale's mother, but. instead she received a tender kiss and a caress, and the two elder women consider ately remained in the reception hall, while the penitent girl went half-re luctant !y into the library, where, in the subdued light, she discerned the stricken hero propped up among sofa pillows on the couch—it must be con fessed more prone to be profane, with all a strong man's impatience of pain, than to feel complacent over any hero-worship which might fall to his lot. But when lie recognized Clarissa— ah, that was another story! And he was craftily moved to magnify his hurt, and to work upon her tender sympathies, until—well, in a lovers' quarrel the angle of reflection is al ways equal to the angle of incidence. In an incredibly short time that wicked Robert had become surpris ingly cheerful, especially since Clar issa's face was somehow very near his own, and his heart was melting tr> feel her tears upon his cheek, and she was softly calling him "dear," and whispering out her penitence. He was amazed to hear her con fess, sorrowfully: "I have been a wicked and an unreasonable girl! And to prove how repentant I am, Robert, I am—just—going—to—make —the supreme sacrifice for you!" "Sweetheart! What?" he inquired in wonder. "I—am—going—to—give Eifine— away! That is, when 1 can find a good home for her, you know!" ('apt Hale laughed, but only men tally. "Not a bit of it, dearest!" he de clared. "Why, I owe that little beast an unbounded debt of gratitude! She's brought about a victory bigger than —than —(■ ell ysl >u rg, Clarissa!" This was a mischievous thrust, but the girl was too much in earnest to notice or resent it. "A victory won by force of arms— or rather of an arm," the malicious fellow continued, doing yeoman serv ice with the uninjured member. "You are mine, aren't you, you little rebel?" Her tears had suddenly ceased to flow now, and she was smiling, though somewhat pathetically, and unlike the familiar, proud Clarissa. "I suppose I must acknowledge my self vanquished," she sighed, "as my ancestors did! And that 1 must sur render!" she added, with no par ticular evidence of resentment or re jret. "Unconditional surrender?" he questioned, half believing her admis sion too good to be true. "Unconditional surrender, Capt. Hale!" she replied, submissively.— Springfield (Mass.) Republican. HONOR THE HEROES. It I* Fitting That Wo Should Cher imh tho Memory of ThoMe Who Died for Their Caune. If Egypt built pyramids to honor the memory of her tyrannical kings, it is fitting that America should keep green the memory of those who died in defense of the liberty our ancestors won by battling against a king. What other nation has such good cause for honoring its heroes as America? We would have our children learn the lesson of patriotism which comes from the bivouac, the tedious march nnd the battlefield. We would have them emulate the self-sacrifice of those men who so cheerfully left the office, the shop, the counting-room or the plow to show their loyalty by fighting, if need be, dying, for their country. Whether they fought be neath the stars and stripes or beneath the southern cross, they fought for what they conceived to be the right, and sealed their loyalty with their blood. The destinies of nations are shaped by those who fight and die at their country's call. History is written in the blood of the brave and the true. But the manhood of a nation is formed by the hand that rocks the cradle. So long as American mothers teach their sons that the greatest possible priv ilege and the highest honor is to fight forcountry, its safety and its honor, so long shall we have a nation in which honor, chivalry, glory and patriotism shall dominate. Would we check the greed for wealth and power and stop the mad career.>f a mammon worship, let us encourage the cultivation of high ideals and lofty ambitions. Let us cherish the memory of our dead heroes, and while we minister to the necessities of the living let us not for get the dead, but as each recurring Memorial day rolls round let us scat ter flowers above the sacred dust and renew our tributes of admiration and gratitude.—Gen. Joseph Wheeler, in Detroit Free Press. Ilonorlne tlie Soldier Dend. The heroism of those whose graves we decorate, whether they be "The boys of '01" or the "Boys of '9S," is one of the bright jewels in the diadem that crowns the brow of American liberty. It is part of the heritage of every child born beneath our Hag. Therefore, in honoring the men who died for the flag we add to the inheritance of the millions yet to come, for in giving tes timony to the courage and loyalty of the men who sleep in soldiers'graves, we enhance the nation's glory and render the name of American citizen of still more priceless value.—Detroit Free Press. Kirst Observed Memorial Day. Alabama was the first state to inau gurate the annual custom of observ ing a day as sacred to the memory of their dead heroes. . Life is a lamp flame before a wind. SHALL WE REVISE THt CREED? Debate on Tills t(uostlon Hr;ln« In the Presbyterian (General Assembly. Philadelphia, May 24. —With elo quence borne of the solemn import ance of the question, commissioners to the Presbyterian general assembly yesterday began the debate on the revision of the confession of faith, brilliant leaders of the church ad vanced their views in a calm, dispas sionate manner and the entire discus sion was void of acrimony. With a full realization of the great import ance of the subject the assembly pro ceeded to consider thoroughly every detail of the proposed changes in the creed. Calvary church was not. large enough to accommodate the throngs who clamored for admission. Many of the spectators did not leave the church during the noon recess. Al though frequently requested to avoid demonstrations, the audience repeatedly applauded the speakers. Among the spectators were many clergymen of other denominations. The great question came before the assembly with the reading of the re port of the committee on revision by Rev. Charles A. Dickey, chairman. This was followed by the minority re port read by Hev. William McKibben, of Cincinnati. A rule of the assembly gives chair men the right to speak on their re ports after they have been received, hue before Mr. Dickey could secure recognition Jtev. Dr. Samuel .1. Nich ols moved fhe adoption of the first recommendation in both reports. Rev. James 1). Moffatt made a substi tute motion to adopt the majority report and an amendment was of fered substituting the minority. lie v. Dr. George I!. Maker presented as amendment a resolution to the effect that as the vote of the pres byteries indicated a lack of unanim ity, the entire subject be dismissed. Dr. Dickey secured the floor on this amendment and made a stirring ad dress supporting the old confession. Rev. Derrick Johnson and Rev. Samuel J. Niccols aroused the un bounded enthusiasm of the audience by the brilliant presentations of the revision faction's reasons for desir ing a change. Rev. George T. Purvis spoke against revision, as did Rev. (icorge I). Baker. There are 250 commissioners com mitted to dismissal, but they have expressed themselves as open to con viction. DOWIE IN HIDING. A Notorious Cliieagoan and Two of ■lt* Followers are Itlimilu£ Held Itesponslblo lor a Woman's Death. Chicago.May 24.—The coroner's jury which for two days has listened to the evidence in the case of Mrs. Em ma Jndd, wife of one of the men in John Alexander Dowie's /ion, last night returned a verdict holding Dowie, H. W. Judd, husband of the woman, Mrs. Sprecher and Mrs. liratsch to await the action of the grand jury. The two women named in the ver dict were in attendance upon Mrs. Judd prior to her death. The charge against them is "criminal responsibil ity" for the death of Mrs. Judd. The evidence given at the inquest by some of the leading physicians of the city, who had examined Mrs. Judd's body after it had been exhumed, was to the effect that the most simple surgical care would have prevented the woman's death. They testified that she was allowed to die when the slightest attempt to save her life would have been successful. Papers were at once made out and officers sent to arrest Dowie, Judd and the two women. When the offi cers arrived at Zion, Dowie was not to be found. Mrs. Bratsch was ar rested in the building and was sent to the county jail, but H. W. Judd and Mrs. Sprecher were not found. It was announced by the police that the search would be kept up until the three missing people shall be taken into custody. It _ was the opinion of the officers that Dowie had gone into hiding for the night, know ing that he would not be able to fur nish bonds in time to prevent a night in jail. It is expected that he will appear to-day to give bail for his three companions. TOO MUCH RED TAPE. Work of the Cuban ('ourls Is Delayed -Cell. Wood's "Hurry I |>" Order. Havana, May 24.—Gen. Wood yes terday issued orders to the judges and post office inspectors that all .rases must immediately be brought to trial, beginning not later than the middle of June. The complicated methods of Cuban courts, combined with the red tape in the post office department, has caused many cases to drag on without a sign of their ever coming to trial. It is estimat ed that over $60,000 has already been spent in securing testimony and stenographers and translators have work ahead for months to come. Regarding th > case of E. (.. Ruth bone, it is common talk among at torneys and court officials that there is not the least evidence against him, and that Rathbone would have been discharged long ago but for the persistency with which inspectors are bringing in new but unimportant tes timony which the court must record and translate. This nractice often results in sending out additional in terrogatories, which adds to the de lay. The case of Rathbone is still in the court of first instance, and while it remains there the attorneys cannot ask for a trial. Tunnel Builders Strike. New York, May 24.—One thousand men employed on the Rapid Transit tunnel went out on strike yesterday and about 3,000 more will strike to day. All underground work prac tically will lie suspended except on three.".actions in Broadway. Some dirt shovelers and general workmen may remain with the bosses, but all the skilled mechanics in the sections between the city hall and One Hun d'.ed and Eighth street will strike. Trouble is feared, as the sub-contrac tors say they vviii employ non-union me n. ' A SALUTARY LESSON. Five Cadpld arc I>lHml»c<-d Croni We*. I'oliit .Tlllitury Aodoniy und Mx Kii>|>en severe punishment we have received for what we have never considered a. vry serious offense. "Second—The manner in which we were dismissed from our cherished institution after years of labor was more surprising to us. "Third —We have not the slightest knowledge of the evidence that has been obtained against us, nor the names of the witnesses, for we have not had an open trial such as is known to military custom. We would not feel dissatisfied if it had been by the decision of a court-martial." A TRAGEDY AT ERIE, PA. A Contractor Slioot» und Kill* a Tlan —Trouble (irfn Out of" u Strike on tlir Itocks. Erie, Pa., May 23. —"Are you going after fish for your scabs'.'" asked Wil liam Harrington of Contractor John Kane JII the hill leading down to the Anchor line docks last night. Kane says Harrington threatened him. At all events, he pulled his gun and fired, the bullet passing through Harring ton's body. He died while being taken to the hospital. There has been trouble at the Anchor line docks ever since the season opened, the Long shoremen's union objecting to the contract system and the men refusing togo to work. A contract to supply the labor for handling package freight was let by the Anchor line to John Kane and Frank P. Coyle. Twice, gangs of 75 to 100 men were brought here from Buffalo, but after being interviewed by the longshore men's pickets they declined togo to work for Kane ifc Coyie, and their fares were paid to their homes by the freight handlers. The feeling has grown more bitter every day and last night, when Kane was taken to the police station, a crowd of nearly 1,000 men surrounded the place. The aspect was so threatening for the life of the prisoner that the police trans ferred him to the county jail. He is charged with murder. '•Toddj" < lirl»teii» a I'apooae. Buffalo, X. V.. Alay 24.—The Pan- American exposition was yesterday visited by three distinguished men, Vice President Koosevelt, Jules Caiu bon, ambassador from France, and Gov. Durbin, of Indiana. The vice president and Gov. Durbin went to the fair together. With them were President John C. Milburn. They went to the midway, saw the Hough Itiders and a sham battle by the In dians, and the vice president christ ened an Indian baby that was born in t.he camp about a week ago. Tha papoose was named Paa-Anna Ett tieed a. 3