THE CAMBRIA FREEMAN In rnblHbrd Weekly at lxslirnG, Cambria Co., To., DY II- A. McPIKE. Guaranteed Circulation - l.OGS. t ; siHsrniPTiox katf.m. rr, one year, cash in advance. ll.oO On? I ?- . ' f not p'.j within 1 moa. 1..5 " i if not p'd within 6 rnos. 2.fO J i jf not p'd within year.. 2.25 prions residing outside the county tn ahlltlonal per year wilt be charged to vent will the above terms be de ."iil from, and those who don't consult their r- iVerosn by pavlnir in advance rami not to be p'.hccI on the same footinr as those v I.fl thi fact be distinctly understood f - "i t i :s t rr.e f orwar J. , -I'tv r r vo'ir paner before yon stop it, ir , it you nv'ist. None hut soaaweirs do oth, er-v'je !' n t l e asoalawa-life'a too short. READ THIS ! IF A NEW SUIT YOU NEED, IT WfLitj PAT This ANNOUNCEMENT to Read! nivimi just returned front the Eastern Ctties, wJiere ire bought and j'AIIt THE CASH for enough SPRING AND SUMMER CLOTHING, to Block our mi ll LA JIG E STOHKS. we are now prepared to r nish even man and hot to whom this comes greeting with U1DE-DP ClOIHIiiG 3 GFJTS' FDBH1SH1HG GOODS at TuOH'EH I'ltlCF.S than thetj can be bought at ang other house in litair or adjoining counties. In proof of which assertion ti e submit the following facts: WK AUK SKI.MNU A yi "N ;! M IT, lined iliruuxh'.ut. it f.lJ This -uit Invitpi nnd d-t1es all e h pi-tition. WK AKK SFI.LINU A Man tiood RusinpSM Suit for t.' o. The ?mie kinl of a Hiilt wns old l:i st ?e:i?on for ij.oo. WI-; AKK SKLIJNd : COOD SUITS FOR BOYS j from 8 to VI ye:ir old. with limit pnnts. for ; (2.40, wl.i'-h '-niraf wnythlns of tbe kind : you cvt-r J-t t ho money. I WR A :K. SKI.I.IN ME.'S .1MI ltK IW IA" IS. lined tiip'iiu.'ioiit, at from 6 cents to il.n'J. ; VK AKK SKT.I.IN' ; Tteii'si 4iioAtt Overalli ; at -M cts. and ii, ftod ood : t.'Ai i o Shirts it 4-i cents, : sold everywhere lor 7J cts. All the Rhnif lecriel linods anil t rtoiiftnl of dnllara' worth of other sr. tide equally cheap are now In stork, ready for Inspection at the YOUNG AMERICA CLOTHING HOUSE Corner Eleventh Avenue and Eleventh Street, a Opposite Opera IIouso, AIjTOONA, XV. the boss grain cradle. HARVEST Aim KO OiiE CAN AFFORD TO 'it" r'-i-rc-' J. on ! Uj cut a' y improve t 1 heflf'V. 'I ! ei t.;"relt'. lAtiir, i T!W . has t t , i ;nr:f t . . the o4 atd ! the sna' ' . dralt vi I ,! r-.' I M r tl. .,nl : ,.t ;!..., 't ..r In- 'V r ! OSS It T -, t'rro: nM the HKST in the m-irket. It is made of re trnxonrd wood, put toicet . p.oil i- at!intiMi in :il! it :irt-. that it can be e:iily nnd readily clmnsed 1 l,e In j r :re nil mornbl' and the manner e( felrviti'a will be nnind a great oii rh nl. Ki'-ii xrthr is lioii-j- -rri-ct. r.irc bci:nr takt'n tlint none are point . . ,1 . ... . m t li. en I ..tli.a I I. Lit, ..m,i. it .in hn .lit ttiat. v tf.iin. Fur nv itt mi. t.. m n, -lea it i n i o, un 1 vmmctiiii al swath j . . . Ie! f. n-m. r!i km-wii :i- t ho --.M il!i-r (' -a-lli-,'" but f..r tl.e n.t forty years ft iy I 'hi ! iji A I , fir'. I. it h'-r i" the iiiob-rsini-il. nnl ! lute c-irs by the uri'ler l' i-n rratiy iinjTMViMl anti si o: i ; i lifd. i ti I is a innih brTfcr iintil'Tnerit than Ati ttiiiT.ir:nn In-ill iiianu:.ii'lur,'l. but ii cunio-irisun wiil show farmers IIoh" i- bv f ir 'In-bi None scmiine mdess jiv name i-stamped tipon r'.tsii2 any .i..t make in tin- mi me ol the .Miller or Mr'riiire t'radle iri1 be le" can In- u.lit fruin Mr. I. I.vi:i:i.v. K'-ensbnrg, l'a., or may be ordered .'- : ii a n v f tV' s '.rrn'in lin town-. i' iaos. :.:.-f!r.-.l It h.l-- I - ( 1 .t "The : 1 ' 4 rmlle ' throogh i: :i: -inn-: uofjs cji?vii .i:: And b" convinced that it is the BEST AND CHEAPEST IN THE MARKET. KKWAHK OF IMITATIONS: 4f All l '-r . ns ili -:rinir tn liai e llotir old eratHr i I I ,...1.1. .1.. ... , V, II l 1 1 n 1- .irt.. Jne , St. J rr aa floods . j.tifites tjutiSf onawiSf Vnderwear, Laces, Hosiery, Gloves, S7tocs, r : -. , t -I Boys Clothing, House-' keeping Goods, Furni ture, Carpets, Mattings, Oil Goods sent all over the and Samples sent I I TherrcatatTarlrtrofroti Ig t) t3 M 3 j 3 fcj KS I I Vnltcd States. ft FJ H 4 & H k4 GRAND DEP0T,7Jkst.PHIIAD'A. Tlie TYut iVTidtely Told. S.i TEITHLUAUM, CARROLLTOWN, I IS TIIF. FI.A I". TO III y AT I.OWI..KT FRUT.H TIIF. VI'.Y HIST CtjMMER GOODS OF ALL KIND I ' in t itinn 1 nnw eTtende.l t.y the pn prlct r to everv reader of the Freema to call and rt:nMit. n-imino the vari ni. in.ilit'es. and learn" the unsurpassable prices, which are r i Mt. r; n i ..iri-ely ! -avi-.i t y ti. bi.m .!t tamr )mhIs from me. The reason 1 i i- 'Mat I liMiiht my entire f.-s-k f..r ea.-h and intend to sell for cash or Its equivalent, ' ' j r ; :in- 1 t i make .jniek sale at smaller prvhts than any other merchant in Cambria t i I'm- iiiv vrorj fur this, however, but coino and see lor yourselves. i' .' N, -May SI. ls.M.-ti. S. TEITEI.BAI 5f . 7 i- I :f, K-tei Firs Insnrancs Aiency 1 'r- 1)1 Civ, 1 General Insurance Agent, ir.i.ssnvncrA. " r.::i-n t short notice in the ID RELIABLE "ETNA" 'JXt Oilier II..I 1 lll i OMIIIIIllCH. .; -barB-.Se. t T lsn i. K ratty S V. )., ' y I jt. j--.is o.-iy. i. in, li-0.-tf. Westmoreland Co., P. A Pt-h ATTOK' t Y-AT T. AV sVeiV.?!ni,aVr0i I -'-"io" trVEtreet. i i I i fit ftMY ' 4Y iff H. A. McPIKE, Editor and Publisher. VOLUME XV. HEED THIS YOU, IX1513, VK AHF. SKT.l.IN'l X yinn'H White ll K V KST lor y cf-nt. wliich "old liwi fca-on. nnd wns considered eh "lip, f.r 1.25. Wl', AUK SKI .1,1 NO NEAT SUITS FOR BOYS, from 4 to 8 year" old . nt 75 cent?, which as '"nih ail who sen tliutn: nnd uood WOfI II A I S lor iLen ami boys at o and 5. cents. WE AUK SFI.T.TNV ; BOIV SI ITN in 3 I'IKtKS, ; lor any s-e Irron 4 to 8 yrs., : fur M.f0; considered cheap ; hist season at f".5(. IS COMING! DO WITHOUT A GOOD CRADLE. repaired shuld send them in Immediately, as It .' 'rtrt, ,l.a ..... IM. n t ! irllhin tt tni. .l-if. nf ti:irvniit 5. C. J. McCUinC, Manufacturer, W II.MOltl.. ( AMltRIV l O.. PA. mm i nm id cxof.TS, etc. United States by Hail, when requested. ST.XAVIEU'S AUADKMY TV:i i- Ijjitroho, Pa. N'KAHI.Y half a century old. fnm which some of the most prominent and cultivated ladies in Pennsylvania snd elsewhere have graduated, oilers inn"! tliornusih eilucational aids and hiirliest standard of rctininar Influences. - 1'iipils Hiimiilcd at any time. Yearly ex pense abO'K f.iit. Address ; S1TEKS OF MEKt'Y, ROWING AtiAIXST TIIF. TIDE. It Is easy to glide with the ripples Adown the stream of time. To flow with the conrse of the river, I.Ike music to some old rhyme ; But ah ! it takes courage and patience Against its current to ride. And we must have strength from heaven. When rowing raln?t the tide. We may float on the river's surface While our oars scarce touch the stream. And visions ot early glory On our dazzling sight may gleam ; W e forget that on before ns The dashing torrents roar. And while we are idly dreaming. Its watery will carry us o'er. But a few ah, would there were many, Row up the "stream of life They struggle against its surees. And mind neither toil nor strife. Thouith weary and faint with labor. Singing, triumphant, they ride. For Christ is the hero's Captain When rowing against the tide. Far on through the hazy distance, Like a mist on a distant shore, They see the walls of a city, With its banners floating o'er, Seen through a. glass so darkly They almost mistake their way. Hut faith throws light on their labor. When darkness shuts out their day. And we shall be one of that number Who mind no toil or pain T Shall we muurn the loss of earthly joys When we have a crown to gain ? , Or shall we glide on with the river. With death at the end of our ride. While our brother, with heaven before him. Is rowing against the tide T ODER THE MIDMUHT LAMP. FOCNDKD OS FACT. I am a doctor, a busy, professional :nan, whose time is money ; whenever, therefore, I can save it, I do. 3Iany and many a night have I passed in the train, counting the hours thus gained as a miner does his gold. Upon this point, unfortunately, my little wife and I do not agree ; but it is, I think, the only point upon wbieh we do not. Eight hours in a comfortless railroad compartment, wrapped up in your plaid like a snake in its blanket, instead of your comfortable sheets, stretched over acomforfabIe spring mattress no, she' can not be made to see the pro priety cf the exchange, nor will she believe The train was just off as I sprang in, an J the shock of the start landed me on my seat. Being of a slow, placid nature, I was in no hurry to recover from the shock, and we were fairly off, speeding away as only an Enfili.sh express can speed, before I looked around. I had not the carriage to myself, as I had at grst supposed ; a lady occupied the further end, and at the first glance, spite of dim light and the fact of her veil oeing down, I saw her eyes, unnaturally large and in tense in their expression, were fixed upon me. I at all times prefer a carriage to my self, and if a companion I must have, let it be a gentleman, not a lady ; but there was no help for it. The lady was there, and, moreover, she was looking at me. "So she may," said I to myself; "thatshallnot prevent me from making myself as comfortable as circumstances will allow.' Slowly and de liberately, therefore, I removed my hat. sub stituting for it a cloth cap, which I drew well , down over my ears ; then I folded my arms and composed myself to sleep. But in vain The eyes of my fellow passenger haunted me. I saw them as distinctly as if my own were open. Was she watching me still ? Involuntarily I looked up and around, and my look met hers, full, burning, intense, with far more ot meaning in it than I could at all fathom. It was getting decided ly unpleasant, and I was decidedly uncom fortable. Tiy as I might, I could not keep my eyes closed. Hers was on me, and meet them I must. In her attitude, too, as well as iu her look, there was something strange and mysterious. Huddled up in the corner, she seemed to be holding something close pressed to her be neath the long loose mourning cape, bending low over it m a crouching posture. Once or twice, her eyes closely fixed upon mine, I saw her shiver ; but for that slight convul sive movement, she sat perfectly still. Was she cold ? I offered her my plaid, glad of an opportunity to break the ominous silence, if she would but speak, make some commonplace remark, the spell might be broken, "I am not cold." A commonplace remark enough ; but the spell was not broken. The mystery that lay in her eyes lr also in her voice. tVhat should I try next ? I looked at my watch 11 :0 ; our train speeding on at a fu rious rate, uo chance of a stoppage for some time to come, and the full open-wide gaze of my motionless companion not for one mo ment removed from my face. It was unpleas ant, certainly, if I changed my position, faced the window instead of her, she must remove her eyes from my face at last. But there was a sort of fascination about her and her look, which I jieferred meeting to shirk ing, knowing it was on me all the time. There was nothing for it, then, but to give up all hope of sleep, and make the best of my position and companion, whom I now observed more closely. That she was a lady there could lie little doubt ; there was that in her dress and appearance that was unmis takable. That she was pretty, there could be no doubt, either : thoe dark, intensely dark eyes, the thick coils of warm burnished, hair, the small, pale features, seen dimly be neath the veil ; yes, she was young, pretty, a lady and in trouble. So far I got, bnt no further. How came sbe to be traveling alone at that time cf night, and with that look on her face ? What could it be that she was holding pressed so closely to her, and yet so carefully kept out of sight? From the size and uncertain outline, I should have guess ed it to be a child ; but then, there was not the faintest motion, nor could she have held a sleeping infant long in that position. I think that something of curiosity must have been betrayed in my look, for her own dark ened and deepened into a perfect agony of fear and doubt. Ashamed, I withdrew my gaze at oncet and, drawing out my note-book, was about to make a memorandum, when, with a sud den forward movement, she fell at my feet, arresting my hand by the agonizing grasp of her own, its burning contact semlingthrough me a painful thrill. "Don't betray me ! Don't give me up to him ! Oh don't ! I am so frightened !" It was but a whisper, breathed out rather than spoken, jet it shuddered through me like a cry. "I can not always hide it i I can not al ways bear it about with me ; it breaks my heart, and I am so tired." "h is a freeman -whom ths tbuth makes free, and all are slates BKfllDK. EB ENS BURG, PA.. FRIDAY, JUNE 17, 1S81. And letting the hand which still held, pressed closely to her, the mysterious burden that so had raised my curiosity drop heavily to her side, there lay at her feet and mine a little dead baby, a tiny creature evidently not many weeks old. Then the woman threw up her veil, and, withdrawing her eyes for the first time from mine, clasped her hands before her, her fig ure thrown slightly back, anil looked down upon it. A pretty picture ; the poor younc mother, with her pale child's face and deep mourning dress ; the wee baby, gleaming so white in its death and baby-robe against the heavy crape skirt on which it lay a pretty picture certainly for a railroad carriage and lightened by its dim midnight lamp. "Dead !" was my voluntary exclamation She stretched her raised hands downward toward it with a despairing gesture, speak ing with low, wild, rapid utterance. "It was not his look that killed it, but my love. He hated it, my baby, my first-born ; for all the love I gave him, he hated it, and that his look might not kill it, I held it in my arms, so close, so close, till it was dead. Oh, my baby, my baby I" The outstretched hands had reached it now, aud raised it from the floor to the seat, folding it around Miitil the inclosing arms and the down-bent face hid it once more out of sight. Was ever luckless traveler more awk wardly placed? the dead child; the pros trate woman ; the scene, a public railroad carriage ; the hour, midnight. I am of a blunt nature. Mrs. Merton often scolds me for my blunt, straightforward speeches ; but then she has such a pretty way of beating about the bush, which it would be absurd for me to imitate as it was for the ass to mimic the tricks of his roaster's Ian-dog. I must go straight to the point as soon as ever I see it. I did so now. "now came you to be traveling alone, and with a dead child ? Are you going home ?" The question seemed to rouse htr once more to the perfect frenzy of fear. She turn ed tome as before, clinging to my hand with small, hot fingers and heart -broken cry : "Don't betray me, don't give me up to him! His look would have killed my baoy ; it would kill me if I had to meet it. She is safe, for I killed my baby ; and he hates me and I have no home no home." I was in a perfect maze of doubt. Coulrt the pretty, soft young creature nt my feet be t ! indeed a murderess? and could it be her hus band of whom she seemed in such abject terror ? My blood boiled ; I felt ready to de fend her against a dozen husbands ; but how? It was midnight now ; we could not be far from London ; the guard might be popping his head in at any moment. I jumped to a sudden conclusion. "Were you going to any friend in lx)n Jon ?" "I know nobody in London." "The poor little thing is either mad or her husband is a brute," was my mental ex clamation. "Then you must come home with mc to my wife ; she will see after yon." An upward glance of wild, agonized sup plication : "She won't betray me, or take baby from me?" And once more the wee dead tiling was lifted up into the arms that seemed al- most too frail to hold it, and hidden away beneath the long mourning cape. 1 I took: her home. Mary received her with 1 a broad look of amaze that made me smile, bnt that found no expression in words. When, taking herasidc, I told her all I knew, she wrung her hands in sheer sympathizing I P'tv- j "Murdered her own baby her first-born ! Oh, .how sad, how dreadful !" And invol untarily she glanced toward the door that hid from us our own little ones, safely crad led and asleep. Then she went back to our strange guest, who sat huddled up in my big easy-chair, the dead baby still at her bosom.- "I must get her to bed," said Mary, with a quick, determined nod ; and she really did contrive to do so by soft, tender, cooing words, and solemn assurance "of safety to herself and baby, whom she kissed and cried over, and considered as she might some liv ing object of solicitude, much to the little mother's comfort. "And you won't betray me ; and he won't come and take her from me, or hurt us with his angry look ? Oh, dear, how nice it is to lie down ! I am so tired, and baby is cold ; but I think I can sleep now a little and forget." She was half asleep already ; the heavy lids had droppedtogether, the small, pale face had dropped downward upon the little downj head that lay against her bosom. "Her husband must be sent for," I said re solutely, when we iound ourselves once more alone ; and I glancea at an envelope I had taken from the stranger's pocket : "Mrs. Tkemayne, "Grantiev Ix)d'ie, "Grantley." Mary stared at me aghast. "Her husband, who hates her, and would have killed her baby I Oh, John, you would not be so cruel ! She seems so frightened of him, poor little thing ! You may be sure lie is some horrid, wicked tyrant. And if she really killed her baby oh, dear, how sad it is ! Whatever will become of her !" "But, my dear child, if she lias a husband or frieuds we must restore her to them. AVhy, she is a little more than a child ! It's very strange, very, and sad ; but the mystery must be cleared, and the baby buried." Mary still pronounced me cruel and un feeling beyond anything she could have con ceived. "Of course, her husband is a madman, who will murder her as soon as he gets her into his bands. You know, John, that husbands are always murdering their wives." "Middle-aged wives, dear, or elderly, whose lives are heavily insured. I shall tel egraph at once." "Then her death will be at your door, sir mind that !' and too indignant to waste npon me more words, away went Mary to take a last peep at our own sleeping babes, at the dead baby about which there was so much mystery, and the poor young mother whom she bad doomed to a violent death. She was still bending over her, and had called me tip to the bedside to notice the ex traordinary length of the lashes, and the beauty of the face in repose, when we were startled by a knock at the front door. "It's the husband ; I know it is. Oh, John, don t oeirayner; cion t, give lier up; you wouldn't be so cruel." nonsense, cuua; watcn by ner till I re turn. If she awakes, say nothing about" "Her husband. As if I should !" Our household having long since retired, Ion?, indeed, before ray return, I myself opened the door. The street lamp dimly lighted two figures ; one tall, stout and muffled. "Mr. Merton ?" I answered in the aftiimative. "You have kindly given shelter to a lady?" "Just so." The speaker nodded to his companion, who touched his hat and vanished. The other stranger now entered the hall aud grasped my hand. "Mr. Tremayne?" I asked, hesitatingly. "Captain Tremayne. How is she?" "Asleep, under my wife's ckre sleeping as peacefully as a child." "Thank GoJ ! So young at such an hour in such a state " I saw a long shudder run through the tall, powerful frame. "And the child?"' lie added, after a pause, in a horror-stricken whisper. "She had it with her?" I hardly knew what to answer ; but he had thrown off his heavy ulster and traveling cap, and now stood before me as handsome and pleasant and honest-looking a young fellow as I ever saw, and my heart wanned to him. He was no assassin, or ruffian, or cowardly bully, whatever Mary might say. The shadow of a great horror that lay in the blue, mellow eyes had been laid there by ter ror, not crime. " The child is dead, " I said softly. "It died two days ago died suddenly in convulsions in her arms, and the shock turn ed her brain. She was doing so well, poor little thing; but afterward she grew deliri ous, and in her ravings she accused herself and me. I could do nothing ; she would not have me near her, but beat me off with her hands, as she couldn't bear the sight of me. And I was so fond of her, and she of me!" Here the man broke down. He walked to the window, then turned and asked, abruptly, "May I go to her ?" I thought of Mary, and hesitated. "She is sleeping so peacefully just now; and if she was awoke suddenly and saw yon" "She shall not see me," he broke in eager ly. "1 will be soquiet. But I must see her. I nursed her through a long illness a year ago, and she would have no one near her but nic ; and now " Under the heavy military mustache I saw his lips quiver; he paused, then added : "I must go to her !" not in .command, but yearning appeal, both in voice and eyes. "Will you wait here a minute? I will see whether she still sleeps." She still slept, the heavy, peaceful sleep of a tired child, Mary keeping a stern watch and guard over her. I beckoned her out of the room. "'Well !" with fretful, impatient eagerness. "You have seen him? What is he like? Is he horrid?" "Judge for yourself ; he is in the dining room. He says he must see her he must come in." "That he shan't, the cruel wretch ; or it shall lie over my prostrate body !" tragically- "Well, go and tell him so." "I will !" And away, nothing daunted, went Mary. I smiled. "She will no more resist the pleading of those blue, handsome eyes than could her lui sband. "He will win her over with a look." I was right ; she soon return ed, and not alone. "He will le very quiet and she need not see him. I thought it would be better," all this apologetically. He crossed the room as noiselessly as a woman, stooped over the b ed in silence, then sat down beside it Mary shaded the lamp so that the room was hi twilight, and so we all three sat down to wait For more than an hour we waited, then Mary stole out. Captain Tremayne looked up as the door opened and closed : then, with a quick sight, laid his brown curly head down upon the pillow as close as possi ble to that of the poor young wife without touching it, and moved his hand up toward hers where it lay on the coveilet, but with out touching that either, for fear of awaken ing or disturbing her. It was not until the first gray streaks of daylight were struggling in through the win dow, beside which I sat, that there was a slight stir; she had awakened at last. "Hugh!" she breathed, dreamily at first, then urgently, "Hugh !" "Yes, deal." She turned her face toward his where it lay beside her. She was only partially awake, as yet, her eyes were still closed ; but the hand on the coverlet crept up softly toward him, fluttered over his face, rested one mo ment caressingly on the brown curls, then, with a long, contented sigh, her arm stole round hi.i neck. "Husband, kiss me !" "His presence has saved her," was my mental comment. "There is nothing now to fear;" and, unnoticed, I left the room. Chilled and cramped with the long sitting after the night's journey, I was not sorry to find the sitting-room bright with lamp and fire-light, the kettle singing on the hob, breakfast as comfortably laid out for two as if the hour had "been nine instead of six, and Mrs. Merton as neat and fresh and trim as if that midnight tragedy had been all a dream. Let cavilists sneer as they may, there is nothing for a man like a wife, if she is a good one. I myself may have had doubts on the subject wives are but women after all, and, therefore, be trying at times, even the best of them. But I certainly had no doubts whatever, as I stretched out my feet to the blaze and resigned myself cheerfully to be ing petted and waited on. Well ?" questioned Mrs. Merton, when my creature comforts bad all been duly at tended to, and not before, 1 told her how matters stood ; she was delighted. And so they are fond of each other, after all ; and his being unkind to her and her poor little baby was only a delusion. How dreadful! now delightful, 1 mean! Poor fellow so young and handsome and nice ! I felt so sorry for him." "He must have traveled down in the same train as she did." "O h, no ; lie told me all about it He had been summoned up to town on business, and left home yesterday morning. In the even ing the nurse left her, as she thought, asleep, to fetch something from the kitch en." "nave a gossip there, you mean," "John," solemnly, "you don't like nurses, you know you don't" "My dear, I am a married man, and more over an M. D. A well-balanced mind must hate somebody or some class of bodies ; and, as a rule, medical men hate nurses." "Nonsense, John 1 Well, Mrs. Tremayne got away while the nurse was down stairs. and, being traced to the station, where she had taken a ticket to London, Captain Tre-J www 81. 50 and mayne was telegraphed to, and was stopped as he got .into the train on his way home. Some one must have seen you leave the sta tion." "As he came to look for her here, some body must have brought'hini ; two came to the door." "It will be all right now that he has found her; she will get quite well, and he will only have to comfort her for the loss of her poor little baby." I wipe my pen, blot the MSS., and rise. My story is done, and as it is the first, so will it probably be the last I shall write. Mrs. Merton looks up from the gloves she is mending. "Thelstory done! Why, all you have WTitten is only the beginning of the end 1 You could not surely have heart to break off in that unsatisfactory manner. Not a word about Captain f remayne's grat itude, or the hamper they sent up at Christ mas, or the birth of their little son last year, and the pretty way in which she coaxed you to be grandfather, though her nncle, the Duke, was only waiting to be asked ; or how shs insisted upon our bringing baby and Johnny and Freddy, and bow baby" But I seized iny hat and gloves. Mary is, as I have said, the best of wives, if just a lit tle trying t times, and her baby the most wonderful of all created babies but I have an appointment at twelve ! TinsUy ' Maga zine. A NIUIIT IN A HAUNTED HOUSE. Opposite the residence of my friends, the Gibsons, stood a small frame dwelling, which was the terror of Bcanvllle, for it was said to be haunted. A murder had been committed ten years before, and since then the poorest laborer in the country would not take the place for a present. Beggars had tried to live there and failed to secure sufficient rest to live upon. Tramps had been known to climb in at the windows, but they climbed out again before daylight. Not a dog would stay there. It was a genuine haunted house. And, so, be ing down at my friends" for a visit, I resolv ed to investigate the matter, and declared that I would sleep there, at least one night more, if necessary. "Well, Frank, you'll be sorry if you do, I assure you, said Mr. Gibson. "The house is haunted." said the friend of the family, who was smoking his cigar on the porch. "Sure, and I saw the ghost myself, sir," said little Biddy, nursing the baby on the lower step. "Then I am going to sleep thereto-night," I declared. "I have always wanted to see a ghost." I stuck to my determination. I went to the little, empty house that night, and I car ried thither a mattress a blanket or so, and a revolver. It was a warm night in summer, and the little place was dry enough. I refused all company. "Ghosts never appear to large parties," I said. "If I need help I will fire my revolver out of the window. You'll hear that" And so, half scolding, half laughing, they let me have my way. At eleven o'clock I retired to my conch with a book and a kerosene lamp, and by midnight I had read myself to sleep. What awakened me I do not know, but I suddenly sat up in bed with a sense of great discomfort upon me. The lamp was burn ing, my book lay where I had dropped it but I had a feeling that there was something in the room. "A trick is about to be played upon me." I thought, and I started to my feet. Of course I had not undressed, and holding my revolver in my hand, I looked about roe. I saw nothing, but I heard a queer sound. It was as though people were snapping their fingers all about me. I could associate the sound with nothing else. It was not a crackling or a ticking, it was a positive snapping sound. Yet some Insect might have made it That should not dis compose me. At last the sound ceased suddenly as it begun, and another took its place a patter ing as of bare feet walking about. They went in and out of the door, up stairs and down. I could have sworn that such feet were pattering all about me had I been blind ; but the moon shone brightly, and I went from room to room witb my lamp and saw nothing. Returning to my room I lay down again, and now a low beating began. It was as though a stick had been struck upon the floor at intervals of two minntee. And sud denly a curious thing happened. All the bedclothes were thrown entirely off of me and thrown into the corner of the room. Now for the first time I began to feel ner vous. I sprang to my feet and rushed into the entry, thinking that some one must be concealed without the door, with some con trivance for twitching away the blankets; but the house was empty. I went down stairs. I peeped into the closets, l explored tne cellar, ana l re turned to my room. That wa no longer empty. On the bed lay a iough-looking fellow, dissipated in appearance, and dressed In rag ged clothes. By his side lay a thick stick. nis eyes were open and turned full upon me. I looked at him a moment, and then burst into a laugh. "So you're the ghost," I said. "Come you shall have the bed for the rest of the night, and a breakfast in the morning, if you will tell me how you pulled those blankets off." For an answer he still stared at Jme, I drew nearer. His eyes were glassy, his fea tures stiff, his limbs riirid : and horror of horrors, his head was covered with blood from a great gaping wound in the skull. "Great heavens ! who has done this ?r I cried, and I bent over him and put my hand upon his heart to see if it still beat. norror of horrors ! I touched nothing but the bed Itself. There was no one there Five minutes from that time I was at the door of my friend's house. I explained to them that I had had a bad dream, and thought best to give np my in vestigation ; but in the morning 1 asked two questions : "What was the murder committed in that house ? Who was killed ?" "The house was empty," said my friend, "and its owner gave two trampspermission to sleep there. One killed the other in the night The ghost is always a barefooted man in ragged clothes, and the ghost-seers always see the stick he was killed with." I bave the reputation for good common sense to keep up, so I kept my own counsel, and told nothing of wbatj bad seen. postage per year, In advance. NUMBER 22. ADVENTURES OF TWO SURVEYORS. THEIR NAnnOW FsCAFK FROM STARVATION AND THE SCALriSO KNIFE. A Leadville, Col., dispatch to the St Louis Globe-Drmorrmt, dated May 30, says : Frank Mathias, civil engiueei of the Den ver and Uio Grande road, who some ten days ago was reinirted to lie surrounded by the Utes and starving at the junction of the Boaring Forks and Grand Kiver, arrived in the city this morning, a pitiable physical wreck, and after undergoing an experience that lias few parallels, even in the checkered history of the. west His story is full of thrilling interest, and, in the present pecu liar relations of the Indian tribes to the gov ernment of do little import. Over a month "0. Mat (lift, with bis sur veying apparatus and a wagon filled with the ! necessary provisions and equipment, started for Salt Lake City to locate a railroad route to this city. His path lay through the south eastern portion of I tali, and thence through the Indian Territory- He did not winh to excite the suspicion or animosity of the I'tes by a large body of men, and therefore took with him only one companion, a young man named Bill White. Their troubles did not begin until they reached the Indian country, when it became evident the supply f provi sions was too small. Then inclemency of the weather and the unfamiliarity of the travelers with the county made their progress very slow. In addition to those disadvanta ges they found with dismay that the Utes were preparing for hostilities. The Indians regarded the white men with an animosity which they did not seek to conceal, and when midway in the reservation demanded that the surveyor give them some flour. Their supply was running extremely short, and it was claimed that they could not spare any. The savagesi received the information with muttered threats, and let them pass only after a long parley. At the Junction of the Grand and (iimnison rivers the demand for flour was repeated, and ujxm being re fused the Indians seizod the wagons and surveyor's instruments. It was useless to resist half a hundred armed savages, and the surveyors begged only to be allowed to leave the country. In a few angry- words they were told to go, but not to come back that way or they would lie killed. With this parting injunction they were hurried from the camp and made their way as best they could up the (runnison river. Their rifles were left them, ami on the lirst day- Mathias shot a deer. Tpe .carcass was quickly skin ned and a portion of the meat cooked ovtra camp fiVe and devoured by the hungry men. The next day they reached the Koaring Forks, and their terror can be better iinacin ed than described when they found the stream too swollen to permit of crossing, and the snow at the north of such a depth that it I would have been worse than folly to have at tempted to take that direction. Death was certain if they retraced their stops, and they lound thiinelves penned in a spot from which there was apparently no 'scape. Luckily tliev had carried a uuautitv of the I deer meat vitli them and were nt without lood. Leaving hue at me batiK ot tne river, Mathias recomioitered in the rear for some distance, and was not reasr-ured when he found that the redskins bad advanced materially toward the eas-t He also saw preparations for war. The squaws and pap. pooses had been sent eastward and south. Only the braves remained. These were en gaged in running oil cattle lrom the line of the ieservation and obtaining a3 much flour and ptovisions as josible. The old survey or knew well that in caseot hostilities the life of no white man would le spared, and returned with a sinking heart to the lit tle camp by the Iloaring Forks. The two men had first thought of venturing into the stream on a log, but it was only too plain that they would be dashed to pleres in the under tow, and they reluctantly gave up the pro ject Meantime the deer meat began to nauseate them, and their stomachs were un able to bear more than a small quantity at a time. It was at this juncture that Lafavette Fierce, the man who brought the news of tneir situation to tne city, iouna tncm. Their appearance and the surrounding-i told him a story that was no sealed book to the mountaineer, and he shouted at the top of his voice to t hem. Their voices could scarce ly be heard in reply above the roar of the waters, but they managed to make him un derstand that they were lost and in want of food. Attaching a stone to a note Mathias had written, be concentrated all his strength j and threw it across the river. It fell at the feet ot Pierce, who, according to directions, started at once lor this city, strengthened I by new hope the two survivors watched and waited. Towards the end of the week be- j fore last they could see the eavages' steady advance, and the chances for escape were growing narrower each moment Toward evening on Sunday, the twenty second, they heard the report of a gun, and a body- of men with a long tiain of jacks, emerged from the timlier on the other side of the stream. It was the relief party, consist ing of six men, including the guide. Their names were : Bill Birch, Jack Ilardenick, Dickenson, Lafayette Pierce, Henry Ityan and Sol Smith. "They held packed lumber from Bed Cliff, and with this at once began to construct a flatboat In three hours they had a rough craft, but waited until morning before malting the perilous attempt to reach the siifleiersl At daylight '.lie boat was launched and reached "the other side in safe ty. The two starving surveyors were lifted in and the return trip made." It IOOks Srspicrori. It seems suspi cious for a dramatic critic at a play to laugh until his vest buttons rat tie off like peas from a pod, be affected tn tears until he has to borrow an ex'ra handkerchief to absorb the moisture, applaud tiil he seems to lead an "encore," and then to wrtte a criticism next rooming condemning the play as execrable and the actors as worse. For a voiintr man to call on the same plrl every other evening and on another girl every other evening, it seems as if twould be s'motlier evening,, with bim before a great while. For a grocer to put out a sign "None but dairy butter sold here," when there are a dozen kegs of something or other with the labels scraped of! just unloading at r.is store door. For a woman whom you have Vnown since she was a girl as a dectuedly freckled specimen, to appear on the street without a freckle In sight tor a restaurant keeper to carefully avoid dining at his own "place of business, iust for the sake ot walking two miles to dine with his family. tor a clerk who gets i a week salary to appear in a new pair of mauve pantaloons and suit to match at least four times a rear. For a man to bringdown a cotton umbrella in the morning and carry home a silk one at night It looks like a good trade. Yf.bt Ovef.u. A correspondent of the Gettysburg &tar and dentinal is responsible for this story : A stranire Incident occurred in the mountains near this p!c a short time aco. Mr. Wm. F.yster was cu Hum down a tree, which in laUinc broke In two. throwmr out fonr small squirrels, which were in a hollow branch. Mr. K. picked them np, when the mother sonirTel came to bim sooloelv that he placed his hand no ner. On layini? the yoon ones down they were carried one by one by the mother away to another tree and deposited in one of the hollow branches. Alter carry inn oil the last one she returned and walked about near the men who were with Mr. E. They, believing 1 y her ac tion that there was another bevan searching and fonnd It. Olvina; It to the mother squirrel she caned that one away, but did not return. Mr. K vouched for the truth of this and can corroborate it by those preseLU As Acct-KATE Smei.U The old lady kept a private bottle from time to time, as she felt the need, though none of the family knew it One evening her daughter, in rummaging through the pantry for doughnuts for her beau, spied the bottle and had the curiosity to apply her nose to the aperture, at which moment the o!d lady hove in sight and angri ly demanded : "Weil, are you any wiser than you were? What do you suppose it is?" 'I don't know w-taat It is mamma," answer ed the shrinking maiden, "but it smells just like Charlie's moustache." Ir you have no Fercna pamphlet get one immediately. Address V. UAFTMa- a Co., Osboru, O. Advertininfj Rate. The larre and re'lable circulating of tba CtH nm a Frkaw commend It to the favora! sie. literatim of advertNers. nhwi favors will ba In serted at the follow lan low rates : 1 Inch, S timet 1 " S months 1 6 months 1 " 1 year S " months 1 " 1 year 3 6 months . 8 " 1 year i eol'n 6 months -4 " 6 months Vi 1 rear 1 " 6 montas 1 1 Tear 1 i . a m . M . fc.oe . M . lo.oa . . . 11 . ! . JSC . SAM . 4.M . TS.ee. . M Administrator's and Executor's Notices.. Andl'nr't Notices 1M Stray and similar Notices l.M Business Items, first Insertion 19e. per Una ; each subsequent insertion Sc. per line. tT Krtoluiton or proceeding of ony corporattom or rorirty. and cmnvntrctitms dencned to eatt mi ten ton to any matter of trmited or m'dtviOAial infrrrsf, nu( of paid Jot ms mdrertitementt. Jon rrnnTun of all kind neatly and eipedltf ously.eiecuted at lowest prices. Don't yontorf at It THE nOATMAN'S'DAUlillTER. AS INCIDENT IS THE SAmi-EONIC WAR. In the memorable year 114, when the al lied armies w ere concent rated about Pari, ft young lieutenant of dragoons was engaged with three or four Hungarians, who, after having received several smart strokes from his sabre, managed to send a ball into Ida shoulder, to pierce Ids chest with a thrust from a lance, and to leave him for dead on the bank of the river. On the opposite side of the stream, a boat man and his daughter had been watching this unequal fight with tears of desperation. But what could an old, unarmed man do, or a pretty girl of sixteen? However, the ld soldier for such the boatman was bad no sooner seen the officer fall from bis bor?e than he and his daughter rowed most vigor ously for the other side. Then, when they had deposited the wounded man in their boat, these worthy people crossed the river again, but with faint hopes of reaching the military hospital in time. "You have been very hardly treated, my boy," said the old guardsman to bim ; "but here am I, who have gone farther still, and have come home." The silent and fixed attitude of Lieuten ant S showed the extreme agony of Lis pains ; and the hardy boatman soon discov ered that the blood which was flowing inter nally from the wound on his left side would shortly terminate bis existence. He turned to bis youthful daughter. "Mary," he said, "you have heard me tell of my brother; he died of just such anotlier wound as this here. Well, now, had tliera been somebody by to suck the hurt, bis life wonldhave been saved." The boatman then landed, and went to look for two or three soldiers to he!p him to carry the officer, leaving bis daucbter in charge of him. The girl looked nt the suffer er for a second or two. What was her emo tion when she beard bim sigh so deeply, not that he was resigning life in the first flower of his age, but that he should die without mother's kiss. "My mother! my dear, dear mother!" said be, "I die witbeut " Her woman's heart told her what he would bave sil. Her bosom heaved with sympa thy, and her eyes ran over. Then she remembered what her father bad said ; she thought how her nncle's life might have been saved. In an instant, quicker than thought, she toreoen the officer's coat, and the generous girl recalled him to life with her lips. Amid this holy occupation the sound of footsteps was beard, and the blushing hero ine fled to the other end of the boat. Jadg of iter father's surprise, as he came up, with two soldiers, when he saw Lieutenant S , whom he expected In find dead, open bis eyes and ask for his deliverer. The boatman looked at his child and saw it all. The poor girl came to him with her bead bent down. She was about to excuse herself, when her father, embracing her with enthusiasm, raised her spirits and the officer thanked her in these prophetic words : "You have saved my life ; it belongs to you." After this she tended him and became his i nurse; nothing would he tKe but trom ner hand. No wonder that with such a nurse h at length recovered. Mary was as pretty as siie was good. Meanwhile Master Cupid, w ho is very busy in such ctses, gave him another wound, and there was onlyme way to cure it so very deep it was. The boatman's daugbt?r became Madame S . ner husVand rose to be a lieutenant-general, and the boatman's daughter became el egant and graceful as any lady of the court of iouis Philippe. MISLED DT A PATTERN. "Is there anv truth In this story that Mr. Garfield lias killed Senator Omkling?" in quired Mrs. Spoopendyke, fitting the sleeve into the armhole and runinc in the basting. "No!" ejaculated Mr. Spoopendyke. "Where'd yon get that? Mr. Conkling has resigned, but he ain't dead." "I read that be had got into some difficulty with Mr. iarfield, and .Mr. tiarfield bad dragged him all around by the ear, and final ly they had to take Mr. Conkling away to save bis life, though lie died afterwards." "Who said so?" demanded .Mr. Jspoorwn dvVe. "Where'd vou read aiivthing like that?" "1 read it on a pattern that Mrs. W inter -botbam loaned me for an overskirt. I'm sure it's so," replied Mrs. Spoopendyke. ";et the pattern," said Mr. Spoopendyke. "Show it to me." Mrs. Spoopendyke unrolled the pattern and commenced to read : "The complications at Washington assum ed the most exciting shape. To-day the trouble bet ween (Jarlieid and Conkling cul minated bv Conkling seizing bim by the throat and holding on whi the crowd yelled with delight Twenty to one was offered, but Garfield remains firm and declares that the Administration wiH not yield. This po sition aroused the crowd to frenzy. It is said that Conkling really desires to retire to pri vate life, but (iarfield at that moment plant ed his tetth in his game adversary's ear and dragged him around until the triends of Conkling were compelled to interfere to save the poor thing's lite. He was taken home but died in a few minutes.' 'There ! said Mrs. Spoopendyke, triumphant!-. 'I told yon so.' " 'Show me !" said Mr. Spoopendyke. Jump ing up and seizing the pattern. "Where'd ve find such dod casted nonsense as that? Where is it ?" "There, it begins under that ruffle, then it runs over on the band and down to the gore, and ends here on 4he plaiting. I knew I'd seen it," and Mrs. Spoopendyke smiled nleaantlv. "What's the matter with mu, yon measly iiot?" bowled Mr. Spooporidyke. "This is where you get your poiititicai information, is it? This the" source of your intelligence and national affairs" All you want is two more patterns and a bald bead to le a consti tutional lawyer! Three overskirts and a pairof spectacle wonhl make yon a supreme court judge 1 What d'ye think this is Isn't it right" faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke. 'I) id you read from the ruffle over to the band ar.d down to the gore " "Yes, I did, did'nt I ?" squeaked Mr. Spoopondvke, "and so did you. didn't yon. Do vim know what you've got here?" "Isn't it a pat " "Dod gast tlw pattern I mean the print ! Tart of it is about Garfield, part about Conk ling. and the rest is a dog fight out on Long Island. Know what it H now? Think you can understand it, now I've explained it to vou 9 Oh. you can ! You've got brains. Some d;v I'm going to run a pipe in your ear amTstart a phosphorus factory !" and Mr.' Spoopendyke danced out of the room, leaving it strewn with pattern dust "I don't care," sobbed Mrs. Spoopendyke, "it read a'.l right and the skirt fitted so nice ly that I supposed the articles were rut to gether straight Ard it was so perfectly na tural, anvbodv migtit make Hie same nusUte. It's so like nnst of the news from T ashing; ton, that I've been expecting it every day, and Mrs. Spoopendyke overcast t.ie sleeve, with the serene conviction that after all you bave got to patc'.i a newspaper into a pattera to get at the actua! facts souietiuies. Brook. I'jix J.'s'r'e.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers