The Cambria freeman. (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, November 22, 1895, Image 1

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    I
ainbrin
Freeman
Adverti .inrKatcs.
la'.Pafelf abed Wkljr at
H.MBIRV, CAMBRIA CO., PENS A.,
HY J A 31 EM H. 1IASM),
gteed Circulation, - - - 1,200
Mibarrtptlon Rates.
.ifi.y. 1 year, each in advance 11 60
' , Jo II not paid wtthiD 3 months. 1 75
du H not pld within 6 months, 2 oO
"10 do II not iald within the J ear., 'i -J
ij-To persons residing outside of tn county
",u additional per year will be charged to
t postage.
-in no event will the above terms be de
Zti irom. and those who don I consult tnelr
. interests ry paytnar In advance mast not ez-
riu I tint.v cot mem it Ut tk taT.rab
ronslderatloo : Titsers who. I avers will fc.
ncerted at tb I iloi ;tjg low rales:
1 inch. S 'lines .......... .f T-
I Inch, 3 mootr.j S.M
I inch, SDonths..... ......................
I Inch 1 yer.... ............ ............... a. to
I Inches. 6 months. .............. .......... .l
a Inches. 1 year 10 (
a iDchea, months S.C
Inches. I year Ii0f
cuiomn, months. .......... ........... lo.fcO
W oolnmn. 0 months....... .................. So .00
2 column 1 year 85.00
. column, 6 months.............. . .. 44.0,
1 column, 1 year............. ..........
Business Items, fist Insertion, 10c. per line
rabseqnent Insertions, fcc. per l'ne
Administrator's and Liecotor Notices. .n
Auditor's Notices 2-S
Stray and similar Notices 00
s)sr" Kesolat ions or proceed incs ol any corpora
tion or society and cniajum-at If ns desiirn4 te
call attention to any' matter ot limited or indl
Tidaal Interest must he paid for as advertismenta.
ttook and Job fnntln of ail kinds neatly and
exe-vioasty ezecate1 at th. lowest price. And
don'tyoa forget It.
JAS. C. HASSON. Editor and Proprietor.
"II IS A FBKKM AX WHOM THK TBBTH VUU KH ASD ALL ABX BLATU BK8IDK.'
81. DO and postage per year In advance.
F . - . . . runt Kji Httln.rlv nnilAntnml fw,r
, t'.ni forward.
j-rav ror your paper before yon stop It, If sto j
L iosi None but pcalawaics do otherwise. i
. , a scalawaic lire is too snort.
VOLUME XXIX.
EBENSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER 22, 1895.
NUMBER 10.
"HE THAT WORKS EASILY, WORKS
SUCCESSFULLY." CLEAN HOUSE WITH
FARMERS!
When you want GOOD FLOUR take your grain to
the OLD SHEIMKLE MILL in Ebensburg. The
FULL ROLLER PROCESS
fur the manufacture of Flour has been put in the OM
Shenkle Grist Mill in Ebensburg and turns out nothing
hut
FIRST CLASS WORK.
Bring in your grain and give us a trial. Each man's
grain in ground separately and you get the Flour of your
own wheat. If farmers wish to exchange rain for Flour
they can do so. The Mill is running every day with the
BEST OF POWER.
PROPRIETOR.
CARTERS
Kittle
SYER
PIUS.
Rck Heartmrhe and relievo all the troubles fcof
ds-nt t. a Hliuns state of trm yftnm. sicU a9
I;;i.iDsa. Naus?. lrowsiiieRH, listre-. after
tun g. Pat a iu tuo Si'lo, ic Wliilo tUeiriuotit
rtXLAr.atlc succeue ha btea bIioac iucuiiiig
Efe'-ichn, ypt artra Littto IJtcp KM ar
e;iUy alnablo in Constif.tion. ounnt; aud pro
v :,t.uj; t!.:anlit.jiucoiupluiiit.whilo thy also
crreTtallilisonlersot theMonia(lilsumu!&t4tha
1.-. i r and regulate the bowold. vca if they ouly
ciuta n 9 lm s
Arh t h y wc-nT 3 bo almost prieol to thotw wh
lf.-r fn.mtb?ili-.trx-singcoiuilamt: butforu
tRleiT thirjro,xinettItc-3 noteud hproml tbosa
Fhuoiicotry ihea will had thio littlo pills vain
: ir. Jn bo jriany ways that they will not be
Lb' tuilo w. lii out tiicra. But after aliaxck 2iea4
Is the bene of no many lire mat ncre w wnprs
luak so.ir rcci uuiu k. vox aiatuic t wuuo
ctl. rj do not
t irtcr'a Little livfr Pills aro v?ry smill an4
:y isy ta tiLo. trto or two rill xnakoa ltv
1 h r mrt strictly vetretablo ai-a do nut j;ripo or
v. Suitbr tiitiir rcutlu action TiJt?aoa.!l who
ti' In vinirr 3.;,nta ; tivol( r$i- bold 1
Of.TE StfEDlClNS CO., New Vo-H, !
-:! !. PILL SltALL DGSS. SMALL FRICt :
HALL'S rff ft
RENEWER.'
The great popularity of this rTi-pnration,
after its test of many years, should be an
a.uranoe, even to the most skeptical, that
fc Is really meritorious. Those who have
urtl lliix's Hair Kknewkk know that
tt J.ies all that U claimed.
It causes new prowth of lair on bald
hfs.ls proTldeJ the hair follicles are not
dead, which is seldom the ease: restores
natural eolor to gray or faded hair; pre
serves the scalp healthful and clear of
dandruff; prevents the hair failing off or
ehanin color ; keeps It soft, pliant, lus
trou. and causes it to grow long and
Hall's ITair KEsrwr-R produce Its
effects by the healthful Influence of Its
Tecetahle Ingredients, which Invigorate
aa.1 rejuvenate. It is not a dve, and Is
a delightful article for toilet use. t"on
talnlnjf no alcohol, it does not evap
orate qulcklv and drv up the natural oil.
lnvin' the hair har'hli and brittle, as d
Uker i reparations.
Buckingham's Dys
ros tii
WHISKERS
Colors them brown or black, as desired,
sod U the best dye, because it is harmless;
Produces a permanent natural color; and,
tliur a single preparation, is more eon
colent of application than any other.
riirius bt
a P. HALXi & CO Naahask, H. H.
UU by ail DAln U Mdldv.
I 1 1 i
C w,,r'h lovely Mu-slc far Forty
w I U Cents, cons'stinj. i.t iuo riies S
full siie Slieet Music . the
ltr. hrtjhtest. Iivi-lirst anj most popular -
s i tn.ns. tyth vocal anj iiwrumrnu .
-rn up in the snost eleg jnt nzanocf . In- "J
ciJ nK Lmr lozzt size P.trj:ts.
n CAH"CCirA. tf,, Spanish Dancer.
g eADtRL ASKI. the tireat Pianist. f
ADEUS PATTI and
g- UlNNIE SEUGUAH CUTTING, ft
k AOORIft ALX OHCM TO
THE NEW YORK MUS1CALECH0 C0.-
fc; bfaJwy Theatre EU.. New Y'wkQty.
."NASSERS WANTED. 5
Cassidy's
Shaving Parlor
T'"' .nr the artier ot Centre an.l Sm;.le
i, l , .hv"". .Hir :otlliiK and $liimuo.-
tt.iJr tbe ",,n Dl1 l manner. A
-re bl jonr i.atrotiaiie ..lirl-.
KtbKK r tTASJSlllY.
X "Til t All peasons knowlcg themselves to
ti. .k ,nd''ted to me will pleae call and set
uTr 'n?! accounts on or before the ftm ol Hmm-
si ,A,lef 1,bt t,n,e ,he' wi" he " 'th
a btbeer lor collection.
1,... PATRICK MOKAN.
lrstto. Pa ., Nov. 8, 1m. 3t
s-s
ACHE
LUIDWI!,
FOR ARTISTIC
JOB PRINTING
TRY THE FREEMAN.
KEELEY CURE
Is n si"ci:tl lt'ttt t hniios men whf, havine
tlri:;.-: ..n-i nnu-ly it: t. I he l rink lml.it aud
At:iWt-u ii n::i i;c:t' 'f uK'olioli.sia fastened
ui u::.i:a. rc:i :L' v:ir tii--iii until t.) iimuae af
fitira ri-iiiu.-iii- n rk.ir i.raiu. A four weeks
coursL- f lr! :it ir.. i:t at lito
WTTB?;Pii KKHLEY INSTITUTE.
V. -!Ji", tilth Avenue,
rerirr! to th- m nM t!n-ir ;wrri, mental and
pli-n-:il, :t-tr. .y the nlmonual arpelite, and
mi;r-. tiioni lh i-ort.lition tliev werein le
I' -r, tin y ii,.laii;e I in sti'.ni.lants. This has been
i'.o ic it !".nic U:;.:i l.'.iij r-HSes t:i-utiil here, and
mrj-iiu t ! . -: ti M.iiie of yi.ur own nuihljorx, to
v. h I I w r rn rw'e: i i ciititideiiee as to the
i'.!.'it.' s-i"e' v i "ici !:, of the Kecley "nre.
Till i"'ilh-i i-ii! la.t F-ur-iiinir iuvestiioiti4n is
n. i,,. i ..i , ivi j.un-jiil-jt giviiii; itiil Utloruut-
auif 2.M.
hru enjoyed a conttnt pAtmnfun for orfT
hi kit vtn. It is won.ivrfuily emuaciotu In aJl
Khrnnsilam, f.atlftc
4 sinrrk loolhEt br,
rKlrrlH HaokssM-ke
and other ailmentu where pain i an attend
ant. Try It. Al lni(r Ktorett, or by mail on
rt.'i)t of name, addrefib and 25 ceuta.
WINKELMANN A BROWN DRUG CO.,
KH.tlBt.ore, Md. IT. H. A.
0 17 961 v.
Caveats, and Trade-Marks obtained, and all
ent ruiines coni'nrted ftir Moderate Fes.
Our Office is Opposite U. S. Patent Office,
and we can seen re patent in less time than thoee
remote fnim Wa-hinirton.
Send model, drawine or photo., with descrip
tion. We advise, if patentable or not, free f
charge. (nr fte not due till patent is secured,
Pamphlet. "How to Obtain Patents." with
names of actual client in your State, count J, o
town, sent free. Address,
C.A.SNOW&CO
Opoosrte Patent Office. Washingtoii. D C-
cream1 rai .CATARRH
Attntjm i'nin and
xtj ftt'tt iun9
Itfit the .Sarra.
rrtrtrri the
Aror the
tirnm -m nf Trte
.
It Will Cure COLD 'N HEAD
A na.t..l . . rl i . . 1 I t . . ..!, mill r.l . II
airreejiMe l"rlceS0 -nt at lUTigglfts r.rby mall
. ........... .... . . ... L- . ,r
r.l.l hliui NLti.1), W ntmo oimunc aura
nov.lo.M ly
f HE ACCIDENTS OF LIFE
Write to T. S. Qctncsy,
Drawor 136, Chicago, Secre
tary of the Star Accident
Company, for information
regarding Accident Insur
ance. Mention this paper.
By so doing you can save
Has paid over fWO.Ouo.OO for
membership fee.
accidental injuries.
Be your own Agent.
NO MEDICAL EXAMINATION REQUIRE!!
oot. 11 (Sin
V hnndlrtlieOAielal lllrrrtoryasil Itefercnro
Hook ! :. Uoriil'll olumMaii KvMl(toB,
nxl .i?M-ly lltuHtmiMl,haixlm,jn.ly tiinrHl, rs,-ile &t K.L
ulur pn--i, avHffiul commissi, ins. EviTy tHhly need
It jnst at thin time ami will liuy it. Kn-liialve terri
tory viven. 8-n. fur hand-toiuedeacriptiveeircular.
W. 8. CONK.CY CO. Publishers). Chicago- III.
BOH
- asw
WINGS.
Wings that flutter in sunny air;
Wines that dive and dip and dare:
Wings of the huuimlnj; bird flashing by;
Wines of the lark lo ths purple sky;
Wintrs of the eagle aloft, aloof;
Wings of the pigeon upon the roof;
Wing of the storm bird swift and free
With wild winds sweeping across the sea
Often and often a voice in me sings
O. for the freedom, the freedom of wlngsl
O. to winnow the air with wings!
). to float far above hurtful thlngsl
Things ihut weary and wear and fret
Deep in the aure to Uy and forget.
To touch in a moment the mountain's crest.
Or haste to the valley for home and rest;
To rock with the pine tree as wild birds may.
To follow the sailor a summer's day.
Over aud over a voice In me sings
O, for the freedom, the freedom of wings I
Softly responsive a voice in me alngs
Thon hast the freedom, the freedom of wings,
oon as the glass a second can count
into the heavens thy heart may mount,
Hope ma? fly to the topmost peak,
Lxue Its nest in the vale may seek:
Outspeeding the sailor Faith's pinions may
Touch the ends of the earth in a suminer'a day.
softy responsive a voice in me sings
l'iiou hast the freedom, the freedom of wings I
Mary K. Uutts, in Y outh's Companion.
IN GOLD TIME.
BY ROBERTA LITTLEHALE.
lie was straight, and grizzled, and
keen of eye. He had worked, anil
fought, and gambled his way through
the lawlessness and passion of the
state's early life into thedeeency and up
rightness of a successful contractor.
His name was Bill Bowen.
As a civil engineer, I came more or
less in contact with him, and rejoiced
in the largeness of his mental mold, as
well lis in the business sense of security
he let me enjoy.
One summer's night we took a drive
to a distant town on the San Joaquin
river. We were to look at stone for a
bridge building, aud the blistering heat
c-f the day made us willing to lose our
sleep for the more comfortable travel
ing by starlight.
The horses jogged lazily through the
coarse, thick dust on the river's levee,
end the insects from the grain fields
nd the frogs from the sloughs had
things wholly to themselves until Bill
suddenly interrupted:
"Mrs. Chase is pretty enough j'et to
understand why she sent two fellows to
the devil, isn't she?"
"What are you talking about?" I an
swered. "Oh," said Bill, pulling himself tip, "I
forgot you didn't struggle w ith the rest
of us through those groggy days."
1 knew I'.ill well enough to let him re
l:i pse just so many minutes; thenlsaid:
"Judge Chase's w ife is lovelier at sixty
than most girls at sixteen, but I hadn't
any idea she figured so romantically in
i he early days as to send auylody over
lKianl." "ll'iii," replied Bill, reflectively.
The horses traveled on without at
tention, and I waited in patience.
"on know what it was like," he le
gan at last. "Men w ith guns from all
over the union and gold the heaven we
sweated for. l'rayers, and court, and
the gambling tables all running under
onerof. and nary a w oman's face show
ing up in the mass togive us courage. To
' sure, there were vixenish ribs o'
Satan who robled, and killed, and
drank with the worst of us; but until
il we'd never the woman for reverence.
1'heii, by degrees, the lawyers and a
stray merchant or two aired their
families, but things wasn't dizzy till
pretty lirace Blauchard got out with
her father.
"I'nderstaud, she carried herself as
she'd ought to; but, understand, there
was men among us as was born and
bred lo live with blood. The mass ol"
us had to take out our satisfaction iu
looking at her; but for two the favor
in old Blanchard's eyes was easy read
ing, and it wasn't long seeing the
course the straw took.
"Ned Emory was a long, lean, blond
fellow, w ith a blamed line face and
a way that made friends of the
toughest. They said he looked
a swell when he called .at the
P.lanchard's, but I never saw him
but like the rest of us red-sbirted and
overalled. and an angle to his pistol
that made him a joy.
"lleorge Stokes 'Shorty, we called
him was a man with an answer that
ripped like a knife and a head that
made success of everything because it
.ou'id work crooked as well as straight.
He'd Im-cii on the lieneh, but he'd located
:i vein at Mariposa, and was overseeing
up 1here in 52. Naturally, he lost op
portunities, not leing right on the spot,
and the danger began.
"The l'danchard house was swelled
larger than most of the cabins, aud had
two long windows that ojiened onto a
, Mrch. Things might never have been
so bad but for those two lidless eyes
in front.
"One fatal night Shorty Stokes rode
into the settlement but I am getting
ahead of affairs."
Bill tos:ud his cigar into the tules,
and hurried the horses into effort as
the interest of his reminiscence swept
him on.
"The girl carried herself after the
fashion of hiidi stepjiers, and neither
i'ellow '-oiild swear w here he stood. It
was laughter and spirit, for both of
them, they said, and nip and tuck for
the yielding. The ace was the sort
that exhausts men, and Shorty's brain
for lawyering cooked up a scheme for
his rescue. He was for their going to
get her some night before her, and, after
a formal marriage proposal, each argue
his claim and fitness for ten minutes
by the clock, their honor at stake to
stand by her decision.
"It got about afterwards that Emory
wouldn't consent until he saw the
devil to pay in Shorty's earnestness,
end they swore with their fists in each
other's to carry the thing through to
.the finish. The date and hour were
arranged for the following Sunday
night at eight, and they drank to it
with gall in the eup.
"Wlien the evening came the clock
had already struck eight when Stokes
cached the Blnnehnrd house.
"The lights from the room fell over
the porch, and from the shadow of the
steps he saw the something that in all
the world he couldn't bear to see Em
ory crossing the room to take Grace
Blauchard in his arms; Emory with
passion paling his face and Grace
Klanchard in the beauty of a disturb
ing humility.
"He cursed as he watched them cling'
to each other, and he cursed his way
back to the saloons and his Mariposa
mining.
"The next day he turned up again in
the settlement, with liquor enough
aboard to put a wheel in his head, and,
after a losing fling at the tables, he
started to find Emory.
"After a little ineffectual riding, he
leaped from the back of his vicious-eyed
piebald at the corner that bulged thick
est with saloons, aud stood close to the
stirrup with his hand on his hip. Some
one who noticed him said his face had
the steely intensity of n razor edge.
"Then out of the crowd, unconscious,
with the music of love in his heart.
wung Ned Emory. His hat was pushed
back on his fair hair, and he was whist
ling the overflow out of his veins.
"In one instant a bullet rang through
the air. followed by another. Emory
fell in his own blood, and a horseman
was riding off wildly and safe through
the show er of bullets that rained arou nd
him. Every man with a cayuse tore in
pursuit, but they only brought back
eight half-dead horses. Stokes had
staked relay lieasts at different points
along the road, and was then safe in the
chaparral canyons toward the north.
"The gambling dens choked up with
the crowds; gold dust was heaped on
gold dust for the reward of the cow ard
ly hound's capture. Murders weren't
rare then, but there was only one Ned
Emory, remember.
"Four of us wouldn't drop the Bearch.
AVc let the blood-money men get out of
the way, and then we worked as we'd
toil for only our own.
"There was scarcely no scent to fol
low, for Stokes had bribed the greasers
who furnished his horses; but we
forced our way along on nothing. Day
and night we rode with our eyes open,
sometimes bullying and sometimes beg
ging. It began to seem hopeless. The
days were running into summer again.
"One afternoon, toward twilight, we
rested on the crest of a mountain where
the ath took a sudden turn away from
a two-hundred-foot precipice.
"We were torn, with the snapping
branches of the greasewood, and full
of extremest ilirt and disgust. Sudden
ly we heard the rustle of a step on the
fallen leaves. Under a live oak, not
thirty yards away, on the very edge of
the cliff, stood Shorty Stokes. He had
not heard us, and he stood looking "at
the moon which hung a sickle in the hot
sky. The evening star was showing.
"The four of us were like stones. He
could have got to Guinea before mo
tion'd have come to us. Then, simul
taneously with our steps forward, he
turned and looked into our faces.
"It was a moment to test the nerve
of any man. He stood it as we were
used to seeing him face all things.
" I suppose I'm the man you're after,
he said.
"He said it with the dignity of a
parson.
"In a second he had thrown down his
pistols. He unsheathed his knives and
dropped them to the ground.
" 'Take me,' he said.
"Four of us looked into the unflinch
ing clearness of his eyes. As we hesi
tated, he spoke again.
" 'Listen. It is not in excuse that I
speak, nor in weakening. It is to tell
you that those among you who are
men will follow my steps under like
circumstances.
' 'Emory gave me his hand and his
oath, in the manner of his frankness,
to stand by an arranged agreement.
"'We were to meet at eight o'clock
on that Sunday night. A a beautifully
good woman was to decide on our ar
gument which man she would marry.
In riding to meet my engagement I
happened on an accident. Within half
a mile of the settlement, close onto
time, my piebald went back on his
haunches and the groan of a man came
uj lroni the roadside. I found an over
loaded miner, hurt in the leg, and the
Iiojh in my own heart aroused my sym
pathy. I mounted t he man on my beast
and headed him back toward camp.
" 'Walk as I never walk, I reached
the meeting place three minutes late.
Ah God out in the darkness I saw
Emory taking advantage of the delay.
" 'None of you is so much a cur as to
let the life run in a man who, under his
honor, couldn't yield a rival three min
utes grace.
" 'But, with the camp against me and
Emory the friend of the sorriest, I
couldn't face the music when the jus
tice was done.
" 'It is not mercy I ask. It is life
hereafter. Come.
" 'With a common impulse we started
forward, only to halt in a frozen horror
as Stokes broncho threw up his head
in alarm to watch with us the back
ward somersaulting of his master's
body over the precipice.
"Though there wu but one verdict,
even Chase said as we rode down over
the mountain that night: 'Emory
might have given Shorty a few minutes
grace. "The Black Cat.
TO COOK VEGETABLES.
Fkikd Okra. Cut it lengthways, salt
and pepper it, roll it in flour, and fry
in plenty of lard or butter.
Okra Fritters. Boil the okra, and
cut in small pieces, make a batter as
for batter caker, put the- okra in and
fry in plenty of lard.
Bared Corx. Three pints of scraped
corn, one cup of cream, one tablespoon
ful of butter, pepper and salt to taste.
Bake one hour; stir it occasionally.
Fried Celery. Wash and cut in
pieces several stalks of celery. Pnt
two ounces of butter in a frying pan,
let heat; put in the celery and fry
brown; sprinkle with salt.
Corx Fritters. Cut the corn from
five or six ears of corn. Break one egg
in it and pepper and salt to suit the
taste; mix; drop from a large spoon
into a frying pan with hot butter in it.
Fry on both sides to a rich brown.
Fried Cabbage. One head of cab
bage chopped fine; oue cup of good
bacon, one pint of boiling water, one-
half teaspoonful of soda, two teaspoon
fuls sugar, one-half pod of red pepper,
salt to taste. Fry in a skillet, stirring
occasionally.
Smothered Cabbage. Cut two slices
of bacon and fry. Cut up a head of
cabbage fine and put it in the dish
where the meat was fried. Pour on a
very little water and season with pep
per and salt. Cover it tight and let it
stand fifteen or twenty minutes.
Farm, Field and Fireside.
THE FATE OF JIBSON.
He Held Oat Nobly, Bat Finally Joined
the Posh.
Jibson was the beau ideal of a gen
tleman of the old school. Not that
Jibson was old. But he went in for
all that was conservative and proper,
stood upon his dignity, dressed
quietly and aorrectly and always wore
a black cravat.
lie had made up his mind never to
marry, and had surrounded himself
with a small circle of select friends as
quiet and proper as himself.
The years went by, and the rattle of
the bicycle was heard in the land. The
roller-skating craze was as naught.
Jibson and his friends smile supercili
ously. The young, the old, the grave,
the gay, all took to the pneumatic tire
But Jibson and his friends held aloof.
"It will pass," they said, "like the
pigs-in-clover puzzle and the riddle of
the white horse and the maid with au
burn hair." And when they saw stoop
shouldered men gathered in groups in
places they resorted to, and heard
them talk of "centuries" and "sprock
ets," of "high gear" and "ball bear
ings,' they stepped aside in the calm
dignity of their indifference. But a
break come. Naylor, his nearest
friend, a fine, old, grayhaired gentle
man who had looked askance at the
coming in of the Remsen Cooler in the
place of the tried and true Tom Collins,
was tempted, and felL
Word reached the ears of Jibson
that Naylor had been seen scooting up
the boulevard in knee pants and
sweater, with his eye fastened on the
cyclometer on the front axle of his
hijrh-grade roadster. Jibson shud
dered, and from that on Naylor was to
him as one dead. Topper was the next
to go. Topper lived out of town, and
there were such fine roads, and he had
a chance to get a beauty of a wheel'at
a bargain, etc., etc
But his apologies were unheeded by
Jibson. Jibson regarded him as one
who had done him a wrong that could
perhaps be forgiven; but to forget
ah! that was another thing.
Bilson was the next to fall Bilson,
who weighed four hundred pounds,
and whom any man would have deemed
beyond temptation! But Bilson took
the fever hard, and had a massive,
special bicycle made for himself at a
vast expense, by the Eagle iron works
of Paterson. and in a week was making
runs out to Patchogue.
This was the last straw; and, sob
bing like a child, Jibson was led away
to where they guaranteed to teach you
to ride in three lessons, and sell high
grade wheels on easy terms. Jibson
is of the stuff that martyrs are made
of; but to be the only man on earth
in 1895 who did not ride a wheel was
too much even for his cast-iron forti
tude. Puck.
DR. PATTONS ORTHODOXY.
Genesis I. as a Charcoal Sketch of What
Might Have Bcvd.
Joseph H. Choate tells a good story
of Dr. Patton, who several years since
paid a visit to Dr. Henry M. Field, in
Stock bridge, Mass., where Mr. Choate
has his summer home. Wishing to
Dnng the two distinguished men to
gether, Dr. Field invited his neighbor
to dine with the president of Prince
ton. They seemed to enjoy each other
greatly, aud Mr. Choate afterward ex
pressed his pleasure in meeting a man
of such keen intellect, and was espe
cially gratified, though a little sur
prised, at his very liberal news. The
theory of evolution, which had
frightened so many orthodox people,
he looked at purely from a scientific
point of view, and thought it quite
harmless, as having no bearing on te
ligious faith. "And how," said Mr.
Choate, "do you interpret the first
chapter of Genesis?" This did not dis
turb the composure of the accom
plished theologian, who answered with
out a moment's hesitation: "We look
upon that as a sort of charcoal sketch
of what might have been." The phrase
is a little unguarded, and if uttered by
Prof. Briggs might have Wen coiisici
ered as speaking lightly of sacred
things, but Dr. Patton is a great
master of dialectics, and can doubtless
reconcile it with the most rigid ortho
doxy. N. Y. Tribune.
All Uone.
One by one the guests had said fare
well, and now the house seemed envel
oped in a deep stillness. The newly
wedded pair were very happy. After
nineteen years of deferred hopes they
were at last oue. Far away from thi
turmoil of city life they had prepared
a hacienda for themselves. Hither they
had come on this happy night with
minister, hired girl and a host of
friends. Now it was all over and the
last trolley car was humming down
the valley toward the railroad station.
"Have they all gone?" he asked, in lov
ing tones, throwing his armsatxiut her
slender waist and covering her face
with kisses. "Yes, dear, I think they
have all gone," she replied, tenderly.
"Then, love, you had better explain to
the hired girl at once what her duties
shall be."
The beautiful woman swept majes
tically from the room. Then a mighty
scream rent the atmosphere. "What
is it, love?" he exclaimed, rushiug ex
citedly into the kitchen. "Haven't
they all gone?" "Yes, yes. sweetness,"
she replied, and between her sobs she
added, "and the hired girl has gone,
too." N. Y. Recorder.
A Way to Tell Illm.
When the wife of the late Sir Bartle
Frere had to meet him at the railway
station, she took with her a servant
who had never seen his master. "You
must go and look for Sir Bartle," she
ordered. "But," answered the non
plused servant, "how shall I know
him?" "Oh," said Lady Frere, "look
for a tall gentleman helping some
body." The description was sufficient
for the quick-witted man. lie went
and found Sir Bartle Frere helping an
old lady out of a railway carriage, and
knew nim at once by the description.
N. Y. Post.
Too HmarL
A Philadelphia lawyer was seated
with a group of friends the other day
discussing the leading topics of the
day. One of the men present, Mr. Can
by persisted in monopolizing more
than his share of the conversation, and
his views did not at all accord with
those of the lawyer. As the men sep
arated, one of them said to the lawyer:
"That Canby knows a good deal,
doesn't he?" "Yes," replied the lawyer,
"he knows entirely too much for one
man; he ought to be incorporated."
LEGEND OF INDIAN HILL.
BV JKSSIK M. TKF.SHAM.
There Is no more picturesque region
in the state of West Virginia than that
through which flows the little stream
known as Indian river. Its valley is
green and fertile, broadening as the
stream approaches its outlet, trie
mighty Ohio, and hemmed in by chains
of rugged hills.
The stream derives its name from the
fact that, prior to the time of the first
white settlers, this valley was a favor
ite hunting ground of many Indian
tribes of the Ohio valley. Traces of
their occuancy still remain. The
fanner yet upt a rns the ashes of their
campfires and their implements of war
with his plowshare. And, on a hill
overlooking the river not far from its
mouth, are the graves of many of the
race.
Most of the traditions have long since
been forgotten, but one concerning
this spot is still preserved. Once in the
early days of the white settlement, a
large party of Indians came into the
valley to hunt, and one night encamped
on Indian hill. That night a band of
unprincipled white men fell upon their
unguarded camp, and massacred the
entire party. Not one escaped to tell
the story of the murder. The chief, a
warrior, who hail always shown great
friendship for the whites, was taken
mortally wounded before the leader of
the attacking party. With the dignity
of his race, he raised his head, and
looked with scorn into the faces of his
captors. Then with his last breath, he
invoked a curse upon each of them a
death by violence.
So goes the legend. There remains
to prove its truth the hill, whose stony
soil stublnirnly refuses to yield any
crop but desolate patches of broomsedge
and a few stunted cedar shrubs the
effect of the curse, the country people
say. The same authorities tell us that
thereon stormy nightstheold chief may
lie seen walking among the graves of
his warriors. And he who sees the
ghostly sentinel is sure soon to meet
with some misfortune.
The owner of the soil of this historic
spot was a wealthy farmer named Ford.
His title deeds covered many acres of
fertile valley aud valuable forest land.
But he had one possession which was
dearer to him than field and woodland
his daughter Winnie.
Winnie was a pretty and rather
spoiled young woman of eighteen.
Since the death of her mother, a few
years before, she had Wen practically
her own mistress, for her father never
crossed her will either concerning her
ow n affairs or those of the household.
It is not strange, therefore, that Miss
Winnie was somewhat proud and w ill
ful. Many a country youth sadly real
ized this, and from a distance admired
the heiress of the Ford acres.
All but one; that one was Itobb Carr,
the only son of a neighboring farmer,
whose land joined Mr. Ford's, and
almost equaled it in extent. Bob was
a tall and awkward youth of twenty
one, with an incipient mustache and
plenty of conceit. He was desperately
in love with Winnie. The frequent
snubbings he received did nut quench
his ardor in the least. Besides. Bob
was encouraged by the knowledge that
Mr. Ford favored his suit. For the
farmer, having in mind the consolida
tion of the two largest farms in the
valley, really considered Bob a good
match for his daughter.
"See here," he said to her one day.
"If that young Carr comes here to see
yon, I want you to treat him w ell. Do
you hear?" "Yes," replied Winnie
shortly, with a toss of her head indica
ting that she would consult her own in
clinations. So Bob called at the farmhouse to lie
received by the farmer with the utmost
cordiality and by his daughter with the
most freezing coldness. But, confident
of his ultimate success, he kept up his
unwelcome attentions.
That winter, the little school in the
valley was taught by a young man
named Ridley Mclvcndrick. Ridley was
an ambitious young fellow, striving to
pay his way through college, after the
fashion of so niaiiy successful men, by
teaching. As Mr. Ford's house was
nearest the school, Ridley boarded
there.
It was not long liefore he and Winnie
became quite well acquainted. They
discovered that their literary tastes
were similar, and spent many of the
long winter evenings reading and dis
cussing some favorite novel or poem.
Mr. Ford would sit by, and watch them
sharply through his glasses. Often it
occurred to him that it was not safe to
allow this handsome young man to Ik1
with his daughter so much. But, he
reassured himself, no harm could ttossi
bly come of it, so long as he was pres
ent, and their eon versation-did not wan
der from the subject of books.
Ah! Mr. Ford, you had forgotten
that a look may sometimes convey a
meaning deeper than words, and that
the young man could read the storied
hero's words with such feeling and in
such a tone that they became his own.
Bob, who often dropjied in of an even
ing, realizing something of this as he
sat and listened, wished that he ap
preciated poetry, and that that con
founded girl would lie as agreeable to
him as to the schoolmaster.
Mr. Ford was not entirely blind, and
at last spoke to Winnie, intending to
reprimand her severely:
"Seems to me you and the school
master are getting to be pretty good
friends over your reading?"
'We are," said Winnie, raising such
an innocent face to her father's gaze
that he felt entirely disarmed.
Not long after this the pupils of Rid
ley's school were challenged to a spell
ing match by the pupils of an adjoin
ing district. In a country ueighlior
hood where little happens in the way
of entertainment, an event of this kind
is hailed with interest, especially by
the young people. Bob Carr heard of
it, and -went immediately to ask Win
nie to accompany him to the spelling
match.
In order to propitiate her father
Winnie consented. Bob was lifted to a
but " She breaks off abruptly, and,
with a sudden movement, pulls back
her loose-hanging sleeve, revealing an
ugly, livid bruise on the fair whitearm;
then, with a bitter smile, she lets the
sleeve fall again, and turns toward the
window. He starts to his feet, his
handsome face dark with passion.
"Ruth," he cries, seizing her hands
in his, tiercel-, "it w as all a horrible
mistake; my cowardu-e has Unvight
you to this. My darling, you love me?"
She does not move; a shiver runs
through her a shiver of mortal atrny.
"Ruth, sjiealrf Tell me you love me.
"You hurt me." she says, -faintly.
striving to free hcrsvlf from his firm
grasp. She raises her agonized eyes to
his. and then she is clasped in his arms.
For one instant she lies passive, then
frees herself with a wrench.
'Leave me." she says, unsteadily;
"why do you come, now that it is too
late? You must go. Good-by." She
holds out her hand in dismissal and
farewell.
His passion completely overmasters
him as he looks upon her, pale aud stir
row stricken.
I will not go." he cries, vehement
ly; "Ruth, you do not, you cannot mean
it. For your own sake " He ad
vances quickly, but she repels him.
"For my own wake and yours, go "
And then he knows that all is ended.
With one fart-well look he leaves her,
and goes out of the room, while she
sinks wearily into her chair, a dull,
aching pain tearing at her heart
strings. 1IL
Time slips by insensibly. A new
beauty has usurped Lady Berrington's
position in society, from which she has
now- withdrawn herself. Her husband
is dead killed himself in the hunting
field aud she is free to come and go as
she w ill. The great town is shuttered
and empty, and she has flown to the
restful quietude of Pens court, the
home of her childhood, which she has
Iniught luick as a home for herself in
her lonely widowhood. Then wild
hopes fill her heart. Now that he
knows she is really free, Maurice w ill
surely come to her he must know.
These hopes are strengthened when, at
a dinner party, she hears the familiar
name mentioned. He is coming to stay
with some distant neighbors ah! it is
to lie near her he is coining at last. As
each day passes she waits feverishly for
his coming: and still he comes not. As
each long summer day wanes she whis
pers: "To-morrow he will come." and
to-morrow passes, and still he eomi-s
not. Then, one evening, as she sits
peacefully under the cedar trees on the
green lawns, resting in the cool even
ing air, nil of sweet, faint perfume
from the glowing flower lieds on the
velvety turf, a maid appears from the
house.
"A gentleman in the drawing-room,
my lady," she says. "He gave no
name."
Ruth, with a wild hope, rises slowly
and walks over the lawn, her T.lack
dress sweeping over the grass, her pale
checks tinged with a pink color as she
mounts the shallow steps and enters
the cool, shadowy room, full of flowers
anil delicious perfumes wafted in on
the eveninir air.
A man is standing with his back to
ward her, but as her dress sweeps over
the soft carpet he turns and faces her.
A quivering smile flashes into her sweet
gray eyes, and she holds out lioth hands
with a little glad cry:
"Ah. Maurice! At last, at last!"
Something in his unresponsive atti
tude strikes a cold chill to her heart;
has he forgotten?
"I could not pass your neighlorhood
without looking you up. Lady Rcrring
ton, he says, easily. "How lovely this
place is! Are you living here alto
gether?" Ruth feels her throat anil lips are
parched and dry, but she answ ers him
with an effort.
"Yes: I could not endure that dreary
town house after "
''Yes, yes," he says, hastily; "after
your terrible bereavement; you are for
tunate to have ln-cn able to secure the
old place in time; I am paying a Jiving
visit to the Carews. at Marsh hall; 'm
know them, of course!"
"Very slightly then you do not
stay lon-r'.'"
"Not long. There are many prepara
tions to lie made before April i with a
smiiei. lc fore my wedding you have
not heard? Juliet Carew will be my
wife in a few months' time; may I ask
for your congratulations for "auld lang
The blood rushc.i with a wild flood to
Ruth's heart, leaving her siek ami cold
everything sw ims In-fore her tired eyes
she must speak. She makes
an effort.
"I hope- I sincerely trust you may
lie happy," she says, a little unsteadily;
"I must call on Miss "arew."
'You are very kind." he says, with
his happy smile. '"How familiar this
place seems. Our days of flirtation are
at an end. Lady IW-rrington; ah. one
docs foolish things in the heyday of
youth, but you showed yourself to be a
wise woman."
Ruth smiles. Has he forgot t"n all ?
"Ye v," she says with bitterness; "we
look back with contemptuous pity on
such follies in matun-r years."
When he is gone she stands on the
terrace in the decHning twilight, the
cool, soft air fanning her hot. flushed
cheeks; the fern owl in the distance.
with its curious whir-r-r, alone breaks
the stillness; a bat flaps heavily over
head; a lielatcd liee liooins past, hurry
ing homeward. Then she goes slowly
wearily into the old familiar room; a
sharp, sudden pain clutches her heart,
she catches blindly at the mantelpiece,
an ashen gray n ess overspreading the
lovely face. With a little gasping cry
she falls prone to the ground; blood
rushes to her lips and stains the deli
cate lace on her Ikisoiii. A
chill moaning wind sweeps around the
house, dying away in the distance
w ith a wild sobbing w ail, as of a soul
in mortal agony passing through the
fiery furnace of affliction.
The doctor says: "Failure of the
heart's action aud hemorrhasre," but
does science always fathom such myste
ries? IVes it take into account broken
hearts? Perhaps not. St- Paul's.
ABOUT THE CHURCHES.
The Bundes Conference dcr Men
noniten Brueder-Gemeinde have l.a.ss
memliers and eleven churches.
Tiik Seh wenkfeldians have four so
cieties and :;iwi members. They own six
churches, valued at fl-.ilK).
The African Methodist Episcopal
church has 4-VJ.7-J5 m-mlH-rs andf,S,4iiS,
2S0 worth of church property.
The Ethical Culturists have 1.004
memliers and four societies. They wor
ship in five halls, seating 5,2'iil people.
The Reformed Presbyterian (synod
has 10,574 memliers and owns church,
property valued at $1,071, 4(N.
Tue Plymouth Brethren in the United
States number 2,27'J. They have 10S
halls, seating 7,4''J persons.
EUROPEAN GOSSIP.
Jean ie Reszke and Sims Reeves
first appeared as baritones and Mario
as a bass. Mine. Calve, who is a pupil
of Mme. Lalxirdc. and not of the Paris
Conservatoire, was at first thought to
be a contralto.
One wing of the Hotel des Inva'ides
is to be given np to the French depart
ment of war next January, and in time
the navy department will also le
moved into the building, the invalid
veterans loing provided for elsew here.
Lr:coo"s opera luffes have so far
brought in 4."vJ.7'.':i francs and V cen
times in receipts in Paris. Of this sum
"La Fille de Madame Ang.it" brought
in 1.1 '..". Jso francs, "Ia Petit Due."
MI5.112 f runes, and "Girofle-Girufla"
3.-i5.O0:5 francs.
Akistoi-hanks' Ecci-FsiArrs.E, the
congress of women, is to le given in a
French translation at a Paris th-a".-r
next winter. An adaptation of his
Lysistrata. with Mme. Rejane in the
cast, had a succes de scandale at the
LMen theater a few days ago.
London's street names are a source
of endless confusion. There are now
151 Church streets. Union strt-cts
and 117 New str-ets. British loyalty
is shown in t'. Queen. Pli King, and 7S
Prince's streets, while royal names are
lioroe by 119 John. 1'. George. HI
Charles. SS William, b7 Jauii-s, and 57
Elizaln-th streets.
Zoi.a's school record has been hunted
up by one of las admirers. He took
first prizes for good induct and for
Latin throughout his course, and also
prizes for religion during t lie years it
was taught. In history and geography
he In-gan well, taking first prizes for
the first two years, hut ended with hon
orable mention only.
Ovr.R two hundred and fifty of the
trees iu the famous omngerie of Ver
sailles have perished during the last
four years, incluiiing the Grand Bour
bon, or "oranger du connetable." which
dates from the sixteenth century, anil
the others are in bad condition. This
is due. it is said, to their having been
watered with a liquid containing in
jurious chemicals.
ELECTRICAL SPARKS.
A TKPT for the porosity of porous
cells consists in filling the cell with
clean water and taking the per cent, of
leakage. The correct amount of leak
age is fifteen per cent, in twenty-four
hours.
A i-kufkct vacuum is a perfect insu
lator. It is piissiuie to exlia'.ist a tule
so perfectly that no electric machine can
send a spark through the vacuous
space, even when the space is only one
centimeter.
If the air had been as good a con
ductor of electricity as copper, says
Prof. Alfred Datiiell. we would proli
ably never have known anything almut
electricity, for our attention would
never have Ik-cii directed to any elec
trical phenomena.
For- resistance coils, for moderately
heavy currents, h.iop iron, In-nt zigzag
shape, answers very well. One yard of
lux-p iron one-half inch wide and
inch thick measures about 1-100 of an
ohm; cons.-quently, 100 yards will be
required to measure an lim.
The voltage of a secondary battery
must always Ik- equal to or slightly iu
excess of the voltage of the lamp to lie
burned. For example, a twenty-volt
lamp will require ten secondary cells,
but ten cells will supply more than
twenty lamps.
Compression of air increases its di
electric strength. C'ailletet found that
dry air compressed to a pressure of
forty or fifiy atmospheres resisted the
passage through it of a spark from a
powerful induction coil, while the dis
charge points w.-re only 0.05 centimeter
apart. Scientific American.
pOPULAR SCIENCE.
Paris has established a municipal
lalioratory for bacteriology in the old
Lilian barracks, where analysis of sus
pected cases of diphtheria are made
within twenty-four hours after the ma
terials have lie-en handed in.
A NEW lead for deep-sea sounding
carries a cartridge which explodes on
touching the bottom. A submerged
microphone receives the sound, and the
depth is estimated from the time occu
pied by the lead iu sinking to the liot
tom. According to Sir Rolert Ball, a tele
gram sent at the usual rate would re
quire seventy-eight years to reach the
most distant telescopic stars. But the
camera has revealed stars far more dis
tant than these, some of which, if a
message had Wen sent in the year A.
D. 1 that is to say. years age the
message would only just have reached
some of them, and would lie still on the
way to others.
ON THE PENSION ROLLS.
At the close of the la-d. fiscal year
there were '.".;. 54 4 pensioners on the
rolls of the jiension bureau.
Cheat Bkitain contains G-H pension
ers who receive every quarter checks
from the United States treasury.
Sot'Tii Cakoi.ina has not very many
pensioners, there Wing only 1 .';' resid
ing wiih;n the limits of the Palmetto
state.
Ohio has the greatest nurr W-r of pen
sioners '.r.l:',7; New York W-ing second
with KU'i-J'.:; Pennsylvania W-ing third
with s.t.o7.
DrniNu the year 194 2S.070 pension
ers died, while 1.3:;:; hail remarried, the
total number dropped from the rolls
from one or another cause Wing 37,
951. A (Tatter on the Stair.
A house in Cologne has two horses
heads carved in wood affixed to it; the
legend thereunto Wlonging Wing that
a noble lady died of the plague and
was hastily interred. The sexton uo
ticed a costly ring on her finger, aud
weut to the vault at night to rob the
dead. But the lady was only in a
trance, and the touch of the would-W
thief aroused her. She arose from her
coflin aud found her way home, where
her knocks aroused a servant, who
rushed to tell his master who it was.
"Impossible!" said the husband, who
does not seem to have Wen toocharmed
at the idea; "I would as soon Wlieve
my two gray horses should leave their
stalls and mount the stairs." Behold!
a clatter aud a trampling! and the
horses were climbing steadily upward
to the gnrret! Convinced at" last, the
husband descended, found it was in
deed his wife, and brought, her in; and
one hopes they were Wth trrawful tj
the good gray steeds.
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