2 CAMERON COUNTY PRESS. H. H. MULLIN, Ed,tor. Published livery Thursday. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. ftT y«ar K0« V paia In advance 1 t>o ADVERTISING RATES: Advertisements are published at the rate ot ■se dollar per square for one insertion ami fifty S«ut» per square for each subsequent insertion. Rate* by the year, or for sii 01 three month*, 4re low and uniform, and will be furnished on application. Legul and Official Adverti«inc per square, three times or less, »2: each aubsequent jeser lien 10 cents per square. Local notices Id cents per line for onelnser ■ertlon: 5 cents per line for each subsequent tontecutive insertion. Obituary notice* over Ave lines. 10 cents per liae. Simple announcements of births. niar> rlages and deaths will be inserted free. Business cards. Ave lines or less. S6 per year; orer live lines, at the regular rates of adver tising No local Inserted for less than 75 cents per Issu*. JOB PRINTING. The Job department of the PHE C H Is complete »nd affords facilities for doing the best class of work. PARTICULAK ATTENI ION PAID TO LAW PRINTING. No paper will be discontinued until arrear 'afes are paid, except at the option of the pub lisher. Papers sent out of the county must be paid for in advance Men and Women. When a man is left, with a lot of motherless children on his hands, he usually scatters them among his relatives. If it is the woman who is left with fatherless little ones, she keeps them together and earns a liv ing besides. Women develop great energy when left without a man. In fp.ct, all the widows we know are getting along a great deal better than the married women.—Atchison Globe. Coffins Made of Paper. Some undertakers, whose customers are poor people, are using coffins made of paper. The coffins are made in all styles of pressed paper pulp, just the same as the common paper buckets. When they are varnished and stained they resemble polished wood, and in point of durability it is claimed they are much better than wooden ones. Prepared for Death. At the funeral recently of William I..akin, aged 90, in Stapenhill church yard, Burton-ou-Trent. England, it was found that he had bought his vault 30 years ago, and since then had per sonally bricked in his w'ife and daugh ter and other members of the family. He had lived within a stonethrow of the grave over 80 years. An Egyptian Plumber. "1 think," said the professor, "from the utensils about him, that this mum my must have been an Egyptian plumber." "How interesting," mused his dreamy assistant, "could we but bring him back to life." The profes sor shook his head. "Too risky. Who's going to pay him for his time?" True Patient Work. An idea arrives without effort; a form can only be wrought out by pa tient. labor. If your story is worth telling, you ought to love it enough to work over it until it is true —true not only to the idea), but true also to the real.—Henry van Dyke. Genius Without Common Sense. Adam Smith taught the world polit ical economy—he hadn't sense enough to regulate his own affairs. Marchiavelli, prince of political strategists, whose cunning brain wove the most intricate webs of diplomacy, had not the quality to enable him to earn his daily bread. Worth Choosing. "In choosing his men," said the Sab bath-school superintendent, "Gideon did not select those who laid aside their arms and threw themselves down to drink. He took those who watched with one eye and drank with the other." Theory and Practice. "My dear, you can goto school with the children; some one is going to lecture on the curse of alcohol. I'll wait for you at the Blue Rock over a couple of mugs of beer." —Fliegende Blatter. Said Uncle Silas. "When a woman asks her husband togo out and pick up a basket of chips, she has in mind a different brand than hubby has."—Los Angeles Express. That's So. "The time, the place, and the girl. How seldom we see them together." "And another rare combination is the man, the scheme, and the coin."—ll lustrated Bits. Uncle Ezra Says: It may be good teachin' to turn the other cheek to yewr adversary an' git It biffed, but my experience hez be'n that it if the best policy to get it out of his way.—lioston Herald. Sacrifice Sales. A department store is a place where prices are butchered to make a wom an's holiday.—From "Pippins and Peaches." Spend Much on Intoxicants. On an average each resident of Ber lin is said to spend one-eleventh of his income on intoxicating drink. Good Sentiment. It's a whole lot better to be sorry be fore you do it than after you get caught.—John A. Howland. Laundries Use Much Soap. It is estimated that the laundries of London, England, use 700 tons of *oap in a week. fiy EARL MARBLE, Sweet•/Mdllid.l Day, We At I out, ;i jwith| blo^pms„ richly laden, To lay the bldorns May— c As of fabled ,'Aiden — On gonef ij^foFe, Cs "faitfo sl(ie.,said ( Quaintly, "Foi* brief whb-' [tfpar,"/ 17 ' / Ana d rppp e|n \in]^ipmanner/saintly., "For sHer' saidT as' M cTsUpon hiis grave she propped some' roses— "The red-.Torj pnd' | f^"' v The ojf [soldier sleeping', cheek ihe.-pinK did - play, TOs;'frofn'''her heart the bloods came leaping'. iHkl- 'Ki V-7I v.4 HisJ t cla'st> ? the' maiden's" soft hand soug'ht, '/y ;Thte\While they stood—half glad, half weeping- He scattering flowers he had brought Above the hero in deaths-sleeping. '"Twas nice you should remember him," He said, "by such a loving. toKen." "A hero," she replied, eyes dim— N "So all the neighbors oft have "spoken." They slowly, sadly 'turned away, x And soon the two were homeward walKing— Sweet Mollie Dean, brave Harold Gray— Of things not in their thoughts just talKing'. When suddenly "I've lost my heart!" Her voice leaped upward lifte a rocKet, And bacK she made a sudden start — "My heart!— my little golden locKet!" They bacKwsrd went, and on the grave Young Harold found it where 'twas lying, And said, "I'll Keep it," the sly Knave— To Keep bacK tears was Mollie trying. "O no, dear Harold, not this heart," She said, through tears so faintly smiling. "The other, then?" he said, Love's art The maiden's beating heart beguiling. | The Proper Saiute to the 1 | Greatest of All | | the Flags | HE l ues t ion of sa_ lutiD S the fla S has V*? '■.<\j?" been and is now be ine agitated exten sively, with the laud tfflj ; \jiHs able object of in- S $ stilling into every H'-'' fffl- t youthful heart that H Hjijj jy, patriotism without !»'•' 0 which no country ' fJ can live. Saluting , .. the flag may be new gorne _ but it is /,T)Old to this writer. Wf Away back in the 60's, when a tiny child of tender years, upon the death of my mother, my father being in the Army of the Cumberland, I was left in the care of the widow of the late Capt. John Clevea Symmes (of arctic fame), U. S. A. Mrs. Symmes was the daughter of an army officer, -Col. Pelchy, U. S. A., and the widow, first of Capt. Lock wood, U. S. A., then of Capt. Symmes, and was a most heroic army woman. At the time of which I write she was 80 years old, full of vigor and activity. The civil war engrossed her entirely. F.verything she could do or say for her beloved union she said and did. Her energies were often directed to ward me, and well have 1 cause never to forget the flag. From the time I could bend my tiny body I was "or dered" to salute it. Promptly at 9 a. m. we often went on "parade"—that is, we walked out over the old streets of Newport, Ky., generally ending the day at the old barricks (now destroyed), to hear the band at the evening concert One of iny childish honors was when, twice a year, we went to Cin cinnati, where "grandma" received her pension from the government in gold. As we would approach the build ing on Third street, over which the flag was floating, "Salute the flag, child," she would command. Then she and I would make the French courtesy—she was French —bending from the waist, low, almost to the ground, and in the most profound man ner, which seemed to me a kind of funereal performance. It always at tracted the attention of surprised peo ple. She never noticed them, but tc me it was a real concern which the bright little gold dollar—my part of the pension—could not wholly do away with. Everywhere and under any circumstances 1 would never fail to salute that (lag, and she saw to it 'hat 1 understood why this act of rev erence was rendered. "It is your country," and later, "it is ih» union it represents, for which sr CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MAY 27, 1909. many have laid down their lives tc save." One day there came a letter to me, all to my own little self, from iny fa ther, written on the battlefield of Shiloh. The envelope had a little flag in the loft corner and had a narrow border in blue and red around it. Sta tionery was thus decorated in those war days. He had been wounded slightly in the shoulder and must go to the hospital. He wanted to write to his "darling child" himself, so that if his name appeared among the wounded or killed in the daily papers I might know the truth. While he wrote a large smooth chip of wood served for his writing desk and his back was braced against the huge for est tree from which the chip had been cut by some woodsman when the bat tle began. This friendly tree protected him as he wrote from the bullets, which were still flying, although the 'tide of battle had turned in favor of the union. My father did not write how he had received the wound, but I learned aft erward. During the fight—indeed, at the crisis—a standard bearer was shot through the head and he fell to the ground, bearing down the flag with the staff broken in twain. My father, standing near, saw it fall, and rushing to the spot raised the flag and carried it with both hands high as his arms could reach onward to the thickest of the fight. The regiment rallied and followed with all speed, and, alas! was cut to pieces. My father's cap was shot from his head and he was wounded in the shoul der, but his act, I have been told, helped to save the day. That impressed me greatly—the fact that my father had risked his life to keep that fiag aloft. Surely I thought in my childish brain, as I tried to reason it all out, it must be something very, very great, and it would be a very, very wicked little girl or boy who could ever see that noble banner and faii to salute it. At that time it was not customary, and few ever did it. Now it is gener ally observed; the only question raised is, What particular way is the best? I have seen many different i forms of salute, and have read of many ; others, but to my mind there is none I sweeter nor quainter than the one ; employed by a noble oM lady and a ; little child, bowing low from the I waist, with the right hand just raised 10 the forehead, then brought down i to the right side in grateful and loving dilute to the all flags— , StarGpangled Bantw. THE STORY OF THE DAY ■ ——— — 4* *}• •!* ♦ •!* **- -}• •»' *'• *J* ■{* *J* ❖ *J* v *!• •«* **• •!' *♦* *»• *;• | Memorial | | Day I "t 4 *t* *•* v *J» •$» -t* •*- *j* "s* **- -J* »s*«s* *J* »*» •*• »*. SIR WALTER BESANT once pointed out the su perior significance, inter est and character ot' our national holidays. An Englishwoman last year discovered the beauty of our Memorial day. She was a guest in an old New England town, and missed nothing, either of preparation or observance. She helped gather flowers for the children, who came begging them all day, and listened to their confidences: "My grandfather, he was a soldier. There's (lowers and a flag on his grave, anyway, but we bring flowers, too." "This basketful's going to the ladies of the post; they're making up bouquets at the hall." "No'm, these ain't for the soldiers; they're for our baby. I've got enough to most cover the mound, it's so little." "My, them laylocks'll look fine on teacher's desk! Yes'm, we decorate for the exercises, and take 'em up to the cemetery aft erward." On Memorial day she attended the exercises; saw the rows of young faces turned attentively toward the fine old man in faded uniform, who spoke well and simply of the duties of a citizen in war and peace; heard the children sing; saw them salute the flag. Then came the procession—the old soldiers, most in carriages, a sturdy few on foot; the town officials; the militiamen; the boys' brigade; the fire company. With the crowd she followed to the ancient burying ground. She saw blossoms and little waving flags placed where lay men who had served in the Spanish war, the civil war, the Mexican war, the revolution, and under a quaint stone, lichened and aslant, a soldier of King Philip's war; not one forgotten, not one neglected. She observed how everywhere, in every burial-plot, there were more flowers; how, naturally and simply, the day was coming to be one of re membrance, not of soldiers, only, but of all the honored and beloved dead; how friends, meeting among the fra grant paths, talked quietly of those gone, or of the great historic days; or noted with appreciation the grace of memorial garlands or the beauty of clustered flowers. It happened that she was a woman who had seen parades and pageants and state solemnities in many lands. She had kept very silent, and her friend, fearing that, to her too-expe rienced eye, the dignity of the occa sion might have been impaired by oc casional crudities and rusticities, and a decoration here and there in ob trusive ill taste, expressed her doubts. "No," said the Englishwoman. "Where all take part, there must be flaws like that. They are nothing. When I think that every year, every where in your great country, there are scenes like this, in a spirit like this — I believe I have never in my life seen anything so beautiful." —Youth's Com panion. Grow Too Old for Parades. As a day celebrated only by vet erans of the union army, Memorial day is rapidly slipping into the past. The veterans are growing too old for the parades which, until within a few years, were its most conspicuous fea ture. In the south, where Decoration lay was formerly observed on dif ferent dates in different states, the ustom has grown of celebrating May 50, which until recently was an exclu »ive anniversary of the Grand Army |< | The Meaning J t of the Day ! 4* «A »*♦ A ►*« »*•» **• A A »J» A*s» ♦£» A»|» •'iT'Trirt-'I-****-' ori forty-one years tha north and the south — HL. though on different Bp days—have decorated the graves of their sol dier dead of the might iest war of modern times and the greatest war of all time in the cause for which it was fought. In the be ginning the south, honestly and sin cerely believing that it had a right to withdraw from the union, proposed to exercise this right peacefully if it could, forcibly if it must. Its com plaint was that the north would not in good faith keep the national laws made to protect the domestic insti tution of the southern states —slavery —and was continually encroaching on it with new laws, and the south wished a separate government in which such laws would be supreme. The north insisted that the union was indissol uble; that once having entered it, states could not withdraw. As a question of law, this could never be settled. It is pitiful to see liow our fathers for years argued and demonstrated and quibbled over an interpretation while in the background loomed the real question, dimly discerned, never wholly confessed, and ignored, as much az possible; while as if to drown consciousness the talk about "inter pretation of the constitution" grew ever louder, until the south struck. It ordained the dissolution of this union and fired on its flag. Then rose the curtain on the red drama that cost a million lives before the curtain fell. Confused in the beginning, the theme gradually unfolded, the back ground became clear and the pro tagonists were disclosed in deadly strife, not over a petty text, but over the question of human freedom versus human slavery. The fathers had eat en the sour grapes and the children's teeth were set on edge. There could be no compromise. As long as this country was to be the heritage of those that made it, the one idea or the other must prevail. Freedom won—in a blaze of glory, with a trail of re flected light, seen clearer this day every year, as the diminishing ranks of the boys in blue march t r lay flow ers—the rue of sacrifice and rose mary for remembrance —on the graves of "Those that have died al ready." This is the personal possession of the union soldier—that he fought for the cause of human freedom. And Memorial day has this wider and unique significance that it is not merely in memory of brave men who "gave the last full measure of devo tion" for a cause they believed was right, but that that cause was human freedom! It abides. We that come after them have a like battle to flght, and the same old foe with a new face. All slaves are not black. All slavery has not the outward and vis ible signs of dungeon and the lash. We are still, as Lincoln said on the field of Gettysburg, "engaged in a great civil war testing whether a na tion —conceived in liberty and dedi cated to the proposition that all men are created equal—can long endure." And in this war north and south clasp hands and stand shoulder shoulder. Common to All Americans. In many parts of the south Memo rial day is now jointly celebrated by survivors of the blue and the gray, and the custom is growing. As the country comes more and more to cher ish as a common inheritance the valor, fortitude and self-sacrifice of that co«* flict, it will become uuiversaL All Who Would good health with its blessings, must un derstand, quite clearly, that it involves th# question of right living with all the term implies. With proper knowledge of what is best, each hour of recreation, of enjoy ment, of contemplation and of effort may be made to contribute to living aright. Then the use of medicines may lx: dis pensed with to advantage, hut under or dinary conditions in many in.-;.inces a simple, wholesome remedy may IK invalu able if taken at the proper time and the California Fig Syrup Co. holds that if is alike important to present the subject truthfully and to supply the one perfect laxative to those desiring it. Consequently, the Company's Syrup of Figs and Elixir of Senna gives gem ral satisfaction. To get its beneficial effects buy the genuine, manufactured by the California Fig Syrup Co. only, and for sale by all leading druggists. ANOTHER TERROR. Frightened Tup—Oee! I always heard that women were going into everything; but I never knew there were lady dog catchers; The Tyrrany of Yesterday. There are some people over whom yesterday tyrannizes. That is to say, they shrink from doing to-day any thing that differs in the least from what they did 24 hours ago. Emerson has called consistency, under some circumstances, "the hobgoblin of lit tle minds," and Walter Ragohot has said there are many persons to whom It is a positive pain to entertain a new idea. This slavish defense to yester day robs us of many a fine inspira tion, and many a splendid opportunity. "Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,'" we cower and falter and shrink upon tho verge of great ex ploits and achievements merely be cause these would involve strange and unfamiliar experiences. Of death it self we are afraid, not because death is painful, but because it is different or seems to us different from what we have been doing all along. Only Sure Cure for Tubercuolsis. Tn view of the constant agitation and misrepresentation with regard to the treatment of consumption, the National Association for the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis has issued a statement in which it states that the only sure cure for this disease is fresh air, rest and wholesome food. Hardly a week passes without some quack "doc or" or "eminent specialist" in form ng the public that he has at last discovered the sure cure for tubercu losis. After examining every one of these so-called cures, several hundred in number, the National association states that, one and all, they are mis representations or fakes. Who Said Them? The golden text was "Suffer the lit tle children to come unto me," and it had been recited to the class by a cherub on the front bench. Later in the afternoon the teacher, in the course of the lessons, had occasion to refer to the text. "Now, children," she said, "who said those words?" and she repeated them. A hand went up from one of the larger boys on the back bench, and receiving permission to answer, he said, pointing to the cherub; "That little feller down there." LIGHT BOOZE Do You Drink It? > A minister's wife had quite a tussle with coffee and her experience is in teresting. She says: "During the two years of my train ing as a nurse, while on night duty, I became addicted to coffee drinking. Be tween midnight and four in the morn ing, when the patients were asleep, there was little to do except make the rounds, and it was quite natural that 1 should want a good, hot cup of cof fee about that time. It stimulated me and I could keep awake better. "After three or four years of coffee drinking I became a nervous wreck and thought that I simply could not live without my coffee. All this time I was subject to frequent bilious at tacks, sometimes so severe as to keep me in bed for several days. "After being married, Husband begged me to leave off coffee for he teared that it had already hurt me almost beyond repair, so I resolved to make an effort to release myself from the hurtful habit. "I began taking Postum, and for a few days felt the languid, tired feeling from the lack of the stimulant, but I liked the taste of Postum and that answered for the breakfast beverage all right. "Finally I began to feel clearer head ed and had steadier nerves. After a year's use of Postum I now feel like a now woman—have not had any bilious attacks since I left off coffee." "There's a Reason." Read "The Road to Wellville," in pkgs. Ever rend tlic above letter 112 A new one itp|ie:irn from time to time. They are Keniitne, true, and full oi human Intercut*