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THE" PITTSBURG DISPATCH, ' SUNDAY, , "JANUARY "27. 1889
15.'
IN FAR COMAUGHT,
The Land of Komantic Scenery, Ko
Me Euins and Brave People.
QUAINT, FASCINATING CONEMARA,
Unsurpassed in Wild and Glorious Scenic
Splendor.
AN EXCITING, THRILLING CAR RIDE
rCORRErODl.J.CEOF TOE DISFATCH.3
OCGHTEEAED, IBELAXD, Jan. 7, 1889.
ON2TATJGHT has
been most truthfully
described as "the west
ern, smallest, least
populated, least re
claimed, least known
and most misunder
stood of the four
provinces of Ireland."
It comprises the five
counties of Leitrim,
.Roscommon, Sligo, Mayo and Galway. The
Uiver Shannon winds along its eastern
boundaries. To the north, Donegal Bay
sets in between the crags as if to wrench it
from the mainland at one gulp of the sea.
Galway Bay. breaking throueh from be
tween the white heights of Aran Islands,
flanks it menacingly upon the south. The
most tumultuous seas known to the world's
shore-lines eternally battle with jagged
headlands upon the west. And within it
are the noblest lakes, the loveliest moors,
the wildest mountains, mod hideous bogs,
most entrancing burns, wildest reaches of
rocks, sweetest dingles, most fascingjjug
coves and bays, grandest and fewest roads,
loveliest ruins, greatest castles, most
wretched huts, quaintest structures in habi-
tion, bride-arch, chapel "and inn, daintiest
hamlets, and the bravest simplest, noblest,
humblest, wildest and strangest people, in
the same area, within Ireland, or in any ex
plored land where people go or live.
Eoscommon.Leitrim, Sligo and Mayo each
have their wild, rude coloring; but in all
of these, especially in their eastern parishes,
Irish city and country life are much the
same as throughout sweet, warm Munster of
the south, bricht, active Leinster of the
east, and hard, pretentions Ulster of the
north.
COXITATGHT'S PASCE.-ATIOJT.
But who ever painted, or ever can paint,
this Connangbt as a whole, or reveal to one
who has not felt through actual life within
it, its ever-savage presence to the eye, and
its intangible inner and under pathetic
sweetness and fascination to the truevreal
sense and soul ims outer savagery ol
presence, which one cannot throw off, how
ever pleasurable sight and scene may be,
has largely been a creation of ignorance.
The human activities of Ireland for 2D
centuries, to far as best known to men, have
been in the hardy north, the commercial
east, and the bay-studded, town-dotted
south. The West of Ireland, even with its
old metropolis ol Galway, trading so largely
with the Mediterranean ports, was always
held to be a terra incognita of strange and
forbidding mysteries. The old pagan ruins
were more numerous here. In the popular
fancy, strange, savage lolk, descended Irom
strange savage chieltains, still roved at will
in its mountain fastnesses. Queen Mayev
and her b trbaric rule seemed still an exist
lnff actuality.
The horrors of the old seven-years' war
between Connaught and Ulster, seemed a
dim, vague but certain perpetuity over here
behind the Shannon. Cromwell's soldiers
gave all this added emphasis by their brutal
cries of, "To h 1 or Connaught 1 while
dnvinc the people ot the lair vallevs be
tween Meath and Iionglord to the wilds of
far, fierce Connaught. Poets wrote direful
rhymes of this unknown land. Humor
made it known as "geographically west oi
the law." And fiction placed it among the
lands in which the imagination alone could
wander without hurt or harm. That which
was imagined true of all Connaught was
held to be true with intensst particularity
in little Conemara, until the cumulative
dread ot it all built a wall between the
world and this, the fairest, quaintest, most
entrancing spot within it; where the least
brave man may wander without fear, and
where one's heart cannot but be touched by
the ruggedness of spirit, simplicity of lives,
bravery of poverty, and the warmth of wel
come that show clear to every earnest one
that comes.
"WASHED BY THE SEA.
Conemara proper is but a district of
County Galway, perhaps 25 miles in its
greatest length, and but 25 in its greatest
width, almost cut off from the mainland by
the splendid loughs Mask and Corrib. It
comprises three districts, or appellative
divisions, named Iar Connaught, or Far
Connaught, or Joyce's Country, so called
from the predominance ot that name
among the inhabitants, and Conemara prop
er, in the extreme wet upon the sea. Yet
this trifling tract of 350,000 acres, as we in
America measures areas, has over 150
miles of shore-line upon navigable lakes,
the larcest of which are Mask and Corrib.
It possesses 25 navigable lakes over a mile
in length, besides hundreds of smaller,
deep-water loughs. Its several hundred
bogs, veritable peat-banks, if drained, could
furnish Ireland with fuel for a thousand
years. J.ts white and rose marbles, and
precious serpentine precisely like the
terde antico of Italy, are among the most
renowned, and least used, in all Europe.
It has between 20 and 30 safe and capa
cious harbors. Its mountains are almost
numberless, and are as full of grandeur and
sublimity in scenery as the Scottish High
lands. So deeply and often is it penetrated
by great arms of the sea, that this little
patch ot Erin possesses between 400 and 500
miles ot coast-lino, unsurpassed in wild and
glorious scenic splendor. About 40,000 peo
ple subsist along its shores upon fishing,
and within its wilds like meager goats upon
Alpine crags. And it possesses just two
roads which are not the original loot and
bridlepaths over which the ancient toparchs,
yclept O'Conor Dhunne, O'Conor Sligo,
O'Conor Buadh and O'Conor Phaby, chased
each other back and lorth until extinct
through their sanguinary contests over the
rival merits of their ancestors of the "brown
hair" and "the red." One of these old
bridlepaths once suddenly became famous
through a bit ofsly Irish repartee.
Colonel Martin, a mountain proprietor,
when on occasion a guest of the Prince of
Wales, while being shown the marvels of
Windsor Park by the latter, bore the bur
den of magnificence for a time, when, to
quietly put royalty out of conceit with
itself, he retorted: "This isali very wonder
ful lor England; but you could set it in the
corner of an Irish flower bed. The avenue
leading to my own hall door, in Conemara,
is upward of 30 miles long!" And so it
Mas. For the sort of a road that then
wound Irom Oughtcrard to Ballynahinch
(town of the island), the seat of iBe Mar
tins, among the grand Conemara mountains
and lakes, suiely led to no other place in
Erin.
The two great roads of Conemara lead
frcin Gaiway. One winds from the old town
between crumbling walls out to the north
west, touching the edge of mystic Lough
Corrib, traverses wild moors and bogs at the
foot-hill edges of northern mountain ranges
ot wondrous chaniefulness and beautv, and,
cutting through the desolate heart ol"Cone
mara, finallv leans to the thunderous sea at
romantic Clifden. The other skirts the
Bay of Galway. It is wide, masMvely
walled, winding and zig-zae in its course;
and discloses on Galway bay and its north
ern coves, scenes that rival those along the
ancient roads of "the Biviera, and particu
larly many of the bolder views in the
vicinity of Gibraltar, until old Clog-
more is reached. Then a rude car
riage roads creeDS sinuously across penin
sula, at the edce of lowering preoiplce, around
shores glltterlnglv white with myriad shells.over
mountain, throueh weird defile, but ever with
in sight of the wild Atlantic, awav around the
rock-ribbed, desolate and awful coast; at last
leading nuto the ClHden heights and town,
banging there as jou mav tee half-Moorish
clusters of battleraented towers upon the brow s
of Portugal's crags above the sea. When you
have known these two roads as one on foot may
know tlieni, and have followed your fancy for
exploration among the quaint peasant homes
in then lids between, on have witnessed the
most Interesting In scenery and people that can
be found in any portion of Europe.
Biancom, the Italian ragpicker, who through
bis introduction of the "long car" simply a
four-wheeled elongation of the jaunting car
into Ireland, and his subsequent establishment
in all parts of the island of express and post
routes, with rapid if rather odd and nerve
straining service, became in his time both a
benefactor to, and the richest self-made man in
Ireland. One of his old drivers in a sense fell
heir to these Conemara routes; and being pat
ronized by the Government with the mails,
sends between Galway and Clifden on the sea,
morning and nicht long cars.
A THRILLING KIDE.
These make theinterveningdistance of about
50 miles with such surging, rushing speed, that
the passage becomes quite a dangerous ex-
Ficnence to the novice. Take an American
arm vracon with tremendous springs which
wonld lift the box top above the highest
wheels; extend seats along the top on either
outer tide, like an outer box step over the
wheel hubs; pile the main box, which is cov
ered and called "the well." wherein are stowed
express packages and the like, ten feet high
with huge hampers filled with Her Majesty's
"parcels-post" mail mailer; imagine from fonr
to six wrapped and bundled people upon each
ot these airy side scats, with their backs
banged by the baggage mountain behind, their
toes catching, and slipping from, the bounding
foot-rest, their .hands despairingly clingtng to
lugg-ige ropes to prevent sudden plunges into a
blackthorn hedge, OTer a stone wall, or into a
bottomless bog; the three, and sometimes fonr,
horses attached to the contrivance leaping
along at a fiery gallop: and the severest, slyest,
merriest of wild Irishmen upon the "box,"
howling like a circus ringmaster at the horses
and every manner of human or conveyance ap
proached or passed; and yon have some idea of
the Irish long car" and its roaring passage
from old Galway to Clifden. That is the way
one is hurled through Conemara.
To your left, across the black and bogg
moors, are the billowy hills of Iar Connaught,
and these seem to advance and recede as if
with sullen impulse of aggression or retire
ment, during your whole day's journeying, lo
the right is the valley of the Corrib river, gray
and black with desolate reaches of rock, and
more desolate still from the countless deserted
cabins of pitilessly evicted tenantry. Dangan,
which you reach in an hour's tramp, and where
broken walls of former rich structures huddle
among the low hats, was once a seat of the
ancient Conemara "Martins." Soon little,
nestling Moycullen is reached. The quaint
chapel, the few thatched shops, the rude cabins
built against former pgantic walls enclosing
great demesnes, all have the seeming of quiet
and rest about them. One lingers here as when
before a studv of slecpv Holland hamlets.
Besides, Moycullen means the plain of Uillan.
Uillan was an Irish hero, grandson of Xaud
Silver-hand, who slew the great chieftain,
Orbson Mac AUoid. Down where the rocks
loom in jagged piles as if hurled there by giant
hands, is the spot your fancy fixes upon as the
site of the conflict. Turning back upon tb
road, you are nearly run down by a pack of
shaggy asses scampering toward Galway. They
are being clubbed and hallooed at merrily by
scanti j -dressed lads who are perched upon
their backs, seated nonchalantly on diminutive
osier creels which hang upon and flap against
the donkey's long sides. The creels contain
peat from the mountain-bogs, and each creel
of peat will bring sixpence in Galway.
A GENEEOUS IMPULSE.
An impulse seizes you to buy the whole con
signment for 5 shillings. The lads breathlessly
accept the money. You tell them to again sell
the peat in Galwav. They believe vou stark
mad: lean upon their beasts and scuffle oS to a
safe dis'ance. Bnt they halt theie and begin
their blessings, which you attempt to silence
with gestures of deprecation. But the good
wishes come the faster as they move away. Vou
were never blessed like this before. "Blessings
on y er honor, the dav an' night 1" "Heaven be
yer hardest bed, sorf "Long life and dlvil a
6irra, sor !' "God send the sunshine iver, sor !"
and an hundred more heartily -yelled benedic
tions until yon are ashamed of their bound
lessness, and are rather relieved and glad when
their childish voices are stilled, and their
ragged forms hidden in a cloud of dust far
down the pleasant way.
boon tbc promontory of Ross, jutting darkly
into Lough Corrib, opens on the view. Jnst a
glimpse of one of Comb's mystic, countless
islands is caught. On this are the remains of
an old stronghold of the O'Hallorans. Nearer
and to the right stands the picturesque ruin of
the castle of Augnanure (Acha-na-nure), the
"field of the yews.' This was the ancient seat
of the O'Flahertys. Its great tower, and a
well-pTeerved quadrangle of massive walls
over 60 feet in height, are still standing. One
of the ancient yews, from which the locality
derived its name, a scathed and blasted trunk
sending out branches with undauntcM vlril.tr,
alone remains: and this tree is over 1.000 ye irs
old. Every mute token of the place tells of a
magnificent assemblage of structures in former
days. If you have wandered to it, the very
stream which washes its tremendous founda
tions and has penetrated unbidden its hideous
recesses and dark dungeon-keeps, may be
traced back to the road, where it passes be
neath a natural arch of black marble. Loiter
ing bey ond this, and dreaming on the wraith
like presences of a past with which your fancy
peoples the whole region, your tramp'cg imme
diately brings you to the top of a noble hill.
PAST AND PEESENT.
Here you stand in the presence of a far more
imnressive past. Here was once the great City
of the Druids. For miles back toward old Gal
way. stretching away toward the black moors
of Iar Connaught, cohering the sides of the
valley sweeping past gntn Augnanure. and
showing gray and white toward the gleaming
wateis of the Corrib, are innumerable crom
lechs, their half-ooliterated great and little
c.rcles composed of Drnidical stones of all
sizes and shapes. Here 2,000, yes. 3,000, and
perhaps 4,000 ears before you came, gathered
hosts of pagan Irish to witness Druidic rites,
and stand in awe before the weird spells and
mysteries their incantations evoked, possibly
.on the very spot where your own feet now
touch the earth.
As you linger within the magic Influence that
flashes your thought from this time to that, it
is rudely broken "hv the dashing pasfyon of
wagonettes, traps and long cars. Within them
are several of the 17,000 hated and unnecessary
constabulary billeted remorselessly upon Ire
land, a dozen or so of the more detestihle
-emergency men." ana a lew ol tne still mo
abhorrent agents and agents' clerks. There,
strapped on the long-car, are the poles for the
crane and the huge timber for the battering
ram. Ah, ye, some God-forsaken wretches up
in Joyce's country are to be evicted to-morrow!
But you reaLh dainty Oughterrd, before the
night. Wandering upon the shores or Comb,
where the hamlet nestles lovtnclv within hr.in.
teous slopes you climb a noole proinonotory
which shelters the village from the savage
north. It is a clear winter day.and the descend
ing sun streaming through the golden purple
passes of the AVestern highlands, builds
matchless fires among the legend-baunted,
castle-studded islands of the lough. Away
beyond the farthest island, at the extremest
northern shore, the sunshine lights up a bit ot
ruin, antiquity and filth, and almost glorifies
tUe drear old rocks beside ir. This n Cong. To
its once mighty abbeys came the last of all the
Milesian kings, the noble and unfortunate op.
ponentot Henry IL, Roderick O'Conor, where,
shorn of bonor.power,triends,and as a wretched
recluse in the cloisters of the spot his own
munificence had endowed, itbe words of Sir
W. Wilde, he "died a sad but fitting and pro
phetic emblem of the land over which he had
ruled." Edgar L. Wakemajc
An Unpublished Vnlenllne by Henry Clay.
TO MISS MARY.
Harper's Mg-ailne.J
Lady, you ask a verse, and I comply
With zeal to serve thee. Yet distrustful I,
For surely you must see I am no poet:
You've but to read these verses and you'll
know it.
To yield full tribute to the worth
Of one I estimate so high.
Should call each noble effort forth.
And every ardent feeling try.
I love the unassuming grace.
That dwells upon thv geutle form.
That beauty beaming from a faco
Which shows the heart within is warm.
Heket Clay.
That Snmo Old Trouble Again.
Mr.Colback Young His annoyer (sweet
woman, I ain't been lv) Certainly, sir.
to th' theaytcr for 20 Don't mention it, I
year. Hadn'tyerjest beg of you.
as lieve take off that '
hat? 'T won't be
much for yer t' do. Judge.
IT IS BETTER TO COAI
People to Be Good, Than to Threaten
Them, Says Key. George Hodges.
PUT OUT EVIL Br PUTTING IN GOOD
Differing Philosophies of Ascetism and
Culture.
ilYE-CENT FIGURES OP SPEECH
rwBITTEN' FOE THE DISrATCH.l
That convenient coin,which cable car con
ductors gather in by the pocket full, is com
posed of 75 per cent of copper and 25 per
cent of nickel. A good many of us have
used this bit of Tnoney since 18(36, without
ever knowing what it is made of. I learned
its composition mysell only three minutes
before the writing of this sentence, by look
ing into the "Encvclopedin Britannica
And yet we have got along pretty well. The
conductor has accepted the coin, and our
ignorance has not occasioned any mistakes
in the footing up of our accounts.
There are coins of speech, which are just
as convenient as nickels, and j'ust as un
known in their composition. We know ex
actly what they mean until you ask us.
They pass current in onr common talk; they
are accepted as being worth about so much.
It is a good thing once in a while to assay
some of these mental coins and see just
what they are made of, and if they are
worth exactly what their face informs us.
The Government attends to that with the
nickel, but we have to look after the coins
of speech ourselves. One of these coins is
"the world."
It is not easy to define "the world," be
cause "the world" means something quite
indefinite. You cannot see it, nor put your
hand upon it. It is in the air. It is a
tendency, a condition of mind, a motive, an
emphasis, a way of looking at things.
The Hebrewshad two contrasted phrases:
"This world" and "the world to come."
They lived in "this world," and were quite
conscious of its imperfections, but they were
'all the time expecting "the world to come."
The world to come was not that into which
the path of life finds entrance through the
gate of death. It was not heaven. It was
simplv the Hebrew golden age. It was the
world exactly as it should be. The world
to come would really come, they said, when
Messiah came. "When He should sit upon
the great world-throne, ruling all men
righteously, and all should pay Him the
homage of perfect loyalty, then it would be
the world to come.
"Whatever to-day is out of harmony with
that fine old Hebrew ideal of the world to
come, belongs to "the world." The world
is whatever Christ would disapprove of. The
world is whatever He would put away out
of men's hearts and lives, if He sat, clothed
in white, upon the judges' bench of a great
international, universal, supreme court.
Whatever we cannot imagine continuing on
into heaven, is the world.
The world of earth and sky about us is
not "the world" to which St. Paul forbids
us to conform, and which St. John forbids
us to love. The closer we conform our lives
to the laws of that world, the better it will
be for us. And as for loving it, that is what
God has put it here for. It may not
continue on into heaven, but some
counterpart of it will. There will be "a
new heaven and a new earth." The heaven
and the earth, with all in them which de
lights the eye or the ear, are but the visible
and audible revelation of God. And, some
how, that must go on forever. The old her
mits were mistaken who fled from all the
beauty ot the earth and hid themselves in
the bleak deserts. God made the flowers
and the sky or man to see, and the melodies
of birds ana brooks for man to hear, and
sweet things to satisfy the taste of man.
And that man makes the most of life who
keeps his nature open, and sensitive and
responsive to all these things. These are
not the world.
The occupations of the world are not "the
world." It is true that they will not con
tinue on into the world to come. It is not
likely that there will be any steel works in
heaven, or any sewing machines in heaven,
nor any drygoods stores, nor grocery stores,
nor banks, nor kitchens, nor even churches,
in heaven. But there will oe something,
their counterpart. So far as wc can know
what lies within the hidden futnre, so far as
we can see into the unseen, there will be
ocenpation in heaven. Heaven will be theH
most restful place that Me can imagine, be
cause we will all havesotnething to do there,
something that will interest us. The way
to rest is not to do nothing. That is one of
the most difficult of tasks. The way to rest
is to do something interesting. This life,
Christ teaches, is apprenticeship. He who
has been faithful in the "lew things" will
be made ruler over many things. "Work
will still go on, bnt with all the disappoint
ment, all the Dettiness, all the worry, all the
narrowness, all the hindrance, taken out of
it. The work ot the world is not the world.
Let us distinctly understand this. One
whose days are full ol pleasure, may not be
worldly. One whose days are crowded with
work, need not be worldly. Pleasure and
work may be just as tiuly a preparation lor
the joy and the service ot the world to come,
as prayer and praise.
But whatever we cannot imagine as con
tinuing on into heaven, is of "the world."
The essential fact about heaven, the only
thing, indeed, which we very distinctly
know about heaven, is the tact that lite
there will be lived in the nearer presence of
of God. "Whatever we instinctively know
cannot abide in that divine presence we
may set down as of the world
"We may set down certain pleasures as the
pleasures of sin. "We may set down certain
occupations as ministering to sin. "We may
set down certain deficiencies and omissions
as the lack of any high purpose, the ab
sence of any upward look, the entire occu
pation of a life with things which are
plainly transitory and vain and secular
we may note these as marking a man as
worldly. Certain tempers, certain motives,
we instantly bar ont of heaven. These be
long to the world. "Whatever is essentially
associated with them is worldly. "What
ever may be possibly associated with them
may possibly be worldly. Men and women
whose minds welcome such motives, tem-
fiers, pleasures, occupations, or in whose
ives appear such notable deficiencies, are
worldly people.
Now, to this world, what is the Christian's
relation?
St. Paul tells us plainly. The Christian
is bound to a position of distinct non-conformity.
"Be not conformed to this world."
The word suggests the following ol a
pattern. Do not follow the world's pattern.
Do not lay down the world's ideal ot a man
opon the blank pages of this new year, and,
working around its edges, shape the ideal
of your own life. Do not speak the world's
speech; do not transact your business ac
cording to the world's rules; do not wear the
world's dress. "Whatever details of these
things are the world's, leave them altogether
out. "Love not the world, neither the
things that are in the world. If any man
love the world, the love of the Father is not
in him. For all that is in the world, the
lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes,
and the pride of life, is not of the Father,
but of the world."
The world presses close upon ns. The
strong temptations spare neither priest nor
people. It is distracting; it is debasing. Its
emphasis is upon the lower side of life. It is
materialistic. It has no treasure in heaven,
and cares not to have any. It sednces men
from duty. It takes the grace, the nobility,
the parity of lilc away. It makes men first
earthly, then sensual, then devilish. There
is a history of a worldling in three chap
ters. "Be not conformed to this world."
But this we all know. This every man's
heart tells him. The voice of conscience is
louder than the voice of the preacher. But
most of us have the samkind of conscience
that Socrates had; it speaks only to say
"2To." And we need something more than
thatj "We need something more per
suasive, more effective, than that. For the
bad is permanently expelled when it is not
merely thrust out, but crowded out; when it
turns around to enter again and findsno
room. The bad is best put out by. bringing
the good in. ,
If a small child has a dangerous play
thing in his handjthere are two ways of get
ting it safely ourof his grasp. One way is
to seize the child and pull the forbidden
plaything out of his clinging fingers vio
lently. The small child will undoubtedly,
and very naturally, rebel and cry. The
other way is to offer him a more attractive
Slaythiug. The small hand will at once
rop the bad and reach out after the good.
There are two philosophies which have
concerned themselves with the relation be
tween the good man and the bad world one
based upon the principle of asceticism, the
other upon the principle of culture.
Tne teachers of asceticism have tried to
reform men by pulling everything bad
nw.iy from them violently. Their central
word has been the brief, emphatic and un-
conipr tuising monosyllable "no." They
have tried to legislate people into goodness
or to scare them, into goodness or to scold
them into goodness. They have tried to get
goodness into people from the outside by a
process oi moral nvpoaermic jnjecuou.
They have endeavored to transport people
into some kind of religious Siberia, where
it should be impossible for them to do any
harm. They would reform the world by
tying all men's hands behind their backs and
by cutting out their tongues. If they had
lived in the Garden of Eden they would
have spent the first day of the year in
chopping down that tree of temptation
which God planted there and in tossing its
dismembered branches over the garden wall.
The teachers of culture, oji the other
hand, have endeavored to attract men from
the bad by showing them the better.
"See," they have said, "here is this and
that possibility iu you. Look up, you un
manly man, you unwomanly woman, and
see what you are missing. Behold what
manhood is; behold what womanhood is I
How true, how tender, how brave, how
srongl And you may attain this, if you
will, God helping you. And God will h'elp
you. bee, here is a blessing awaiting your
outstretched hand; here is a duty waiting
for you to do it. Know ye not that ye are
the children ot God? Beloved, now are we
the sons of God." Men and women have
listened to such gracious speech as this and
found in it instant inspiration and enjoy
ment. They have tried to take the blessing
and to do the duty; and they have learned,
by blessed experience, that every good deed
stands in the place of a bad deed, and every
good thought in the phce of a bad thought,
and the bad is crowded out. Men and
women following that wise instrnction, and
looking not in, but out, and up, have grown
in grace and iu the knowledge and the love
of God.
People cannot be forbidden into goodness,
nor scolded, nor pushed, nor driven, nor
exiled, nor punished into goodness. Men
grow good, as oats grow strong, from the
heart outward.
"We are all the time forgettine that. But
St. Paul did not forget it. Straight he goes
from forbidding to attracting. "Be not con
formed to this world" "Why? "That ye
may prove what is that good, and accept
able and perfect will of God." I cannot
within my space to-day draw out the mean
ing of this blessed revelation which the un
worldly win and learn. I will have to re
serve that. I am content only to emphasize
the fact that there is a blessing. This is the
truth which I want to leave in the minds of
this great congregation, into whose faces I
cannot look, but of whose presence
I am profoundly conscious: That the
reason for not being "worldly" is not
because anybody says no matter how
loudly "you must not be worldly;" it is
not because anybody threatens no matter
how sharply that "dreadful things will
certainly overtake the worldlv; but this is
the reason because to be worldly is to be un
worthy of yourself; it is to live like an ani
mal when yon may live like a man; like a
son of God; it is to shut yonr eyes to the
most beautiful things which God has made
for man to see, and your mind to the deepest
and most inspiring truths which God has
put it into the power of man to know. Every
debasing pleasure, every unworthy word,
every step down into "the world," takes
away just so much frqm the best possibilities
of your life.
"Whoever is unworldly, whoever keeps
himself from such pleasures and pursuits as
dim the spiritual vision, God teaches him a
gracious lesson which interprets the world.
God touches his eyes with a more precious
ointment than any Arab physician had for
sale in the old stories, and the man sees.
George Hodges.
SIDEWALK ORNAMENTS.
Some Thlnss About the City Excite a Grum
bler Considerably.
An unlucky reporter had another encoun
ter with the chronic grumbler yesterday.
There was no escape, and so he was con
strained to listen and take notes. He be
J?an: '"Will you have the kindness to stand on
this corner and look up this street ahd down
that and see what you can see? Nothing
unusual, you say? That's just it quite too
common, and that is why I kick. Down
there is a pile of boards and lumber on the
sidewalk and in the street, ready for the car
penters who are to repair the building. It
has been there two weeks and the work
hasn't even begun yet. TJp here
a piece is a couple of barrels
and some planks right in the street,
where they were left by men who were
mixing mortar last week. The plasterers
have got through with their job and left
these things behind as a reminder that they
are done I suppose. Yonder is a pile of
bricks in the street it has been there so
long it's as familiar to me as my wife's face
and not half as pleasing to look at And so
it is in a hundred different places all over
town. People who own or erect buildings
seem to think they own as much ot the side
walk and streets as they care to occupy for
their own convenience and that they can
keep the space as long as they wish and it's
nobody's business.
"Another thing. "Walk along with me
and I'll impress your mind by an object
lesson or twe. Here's a man who keeps a
groperv. Do you suppose his goods or his
trade is in any way improved because he
has half or two-thirds of his stoct out on
the sidewalk? Then glance at the hard
ware store across the street. Those are nice
sidewalk ornaments, aren't they? Stoves
and grates for pedestrians to blunder against
and lor ladies to rub the blacking from
upon their skirts.
"What sense is there in using the sidewalk
as a sample room? If a man wants goods
won't be be likely to go into the store to
buy them? Have we ordinances against
obstructing sidewalks and streets? Have
we officers to enforce the laws? Have
we "
The reporter saw a car coming, and pre
tending he had to catch it or miss a big
item, left the garrulous man before he had
fairly begun his inquisition. '
IiUtnbnso.
General F. B. Splnola. Member of Congress
from New York City, writes:
"It Is a public duty I perform when I testify
to the remarkable curative power of All
cock's Porous Plasters. For several years
I have been at times troubled with violent at
tacks of lumbago They would last for several
weeks at a time, and the pain would reach from
the lumbar regions not only to my feet, but to
my finger ends. Borne months ago I had a
most severe attack, and was confined to my
bed, almost Aaralyzed. I felt much discour
aged, and thought of recurring to electr.c
shocks, when Senator Nelson sent-me six All
cock's Porous Plasters. I immediately applied
three one over the kidneys, one on the small
of my back, and one on my hip joint, where I
had considerable sciatic pain. The effect was
simply wonderful. In six hours Iwasabloto
sleep, the violent piln having mostly ceased.
I continued to wear the Piasters for some
days, when I felt I was almost entirely cured.
I kept them on for nearly a month, as a mat
ter of precaution." au
Penny Wisdom Pound Folly.
It is foolish to save the little that Sozodont
costs, and suffer what will result in bad teeth
and large payments to dentists. Place a bottle
of It on the toilet, use Ave drops only of It
every time after eating, cleanse the mouth, and
show your wisdom. wrsu
HOW THEY EOBSAFES
A Famous Ex-Criminal Details
Many Interesting Methods.
tJjg
ONLY BUNGLERS BLOW THEM OPEN.
There Ire Some Croolcs JVhom No
Tault Nor Safe Can Eesist.
Bank
THE VERY BEST MEANS OP PROTECTION
tWBlTTXN FOB THE DISPATCH.!
HE popular idea of a
safe robbery seems to
be that on a dark
night, when not even
a policeman''is near,
several big, strong
men break into a
place, and, drilling
holes in the safe, they
insert powder or dyn
amite and blow the door off, afterward set
ting fire to the building to destroy all
traces of the crime. As a matter of fact,
in a really "fine" job, an explosive is rare
ly used; the tools can be carried in an over
coat pocket, and many weeks are often spent
in planning and arranging for a single job.
, In this article I propose to detail the vari
ous methods of safe robbery and to show
that only bunglers blow safes open. There
are in this country jusfabout an even score
of men whom no bank vault nor safe, how
ever strong, can resist. To reassure society,
I will say that over half of these are safe
behind prison bars. It is an adage among
crooked people that they must go to New
York for highwaymen, Philadelphia for
thieves, Chicago for bank and safe burglars
and Cincinnati for pickpockets. Pittsburg
does not produce any first-class crooks, but
more "cappers," or informers, than all the
cities I have enumerated combined.
Safe-breakers have more than kept pace
with improvements in safes, including time
locks, chilled steel-chests of eight or nine
thicknesses and electric protective attach
.ruents. Their tools are made by some of
the finest mechanics and inventive geniuses
of the world. A full kit of the most ap
proved modern safe workers' tools costs about
55,000.
Twenty years ago, when burglars started
out to rob a safe they filled a carpet sack
with highly tempered drills, copper sledges,
sectional jimmies, dark lanterss, powder
and a fuse. On the way they stole a horse
and wagon, filling the latter with the greater
portion of the tools of a country blacksmith
shop. They would work on the safe from
four to six hours, and finally blow it open
with a fine grade of ducking powder.
"Usually the shock would break all the
glass in the building, arouse the town and
the burglars would often have to fight for
their lives. In those d.iys the men had to
be big and powerful, because the work was
extremely laborious. If the burglar was an
ex-prize fighter or noted tough, so much the
better, for he could make a desperate re
sistance in case he was caught in the act or
immediately after it.
THE SIODEEN SAFE BUKGLAB.
Now, with the modern safe burglar it is
almost totally different. Although much
more skillful and successful than his pre
decessor, he is more conservative. He sel
dom runs his own head into danger and
therefore seldom endangers the head of a
law-abiding citizen by permitting his head
to come in contact with him or the job
while it is under wav. "Everv rireeantion
against being surprised is taken and it is
very seldom the robbery is discovered until
the cashier s appearance the next morning.
The modern sate burglar is an exceedingly
keen, intelligent man. He can open a sale
having all modern improvements in from
ten minutes to two hours without the aid ol
explosives and by only slightly defacing it.
Sometimes he leaves scarcely a mark.
A first-class modern safe, whether large
or small, generally has double outside and
inside doors, with a steel chest in the bot
tom, formingreally a safe within a safe, the
inside one being the stronger. The outside
door is usually either "stuffed" or "skele
ton." The inside one is made of eight or
nine sheets, of different temper, of the finest
steel. These sheets are bolted together with
conical bolts, having left hand threads
after which the heads of the bolts are cutoff,
leaving what is virtually a solid piece ot
steel, which no drill can penetrate. The
best locks are of the combination type, with
time-lock attachment. In both cities and
towns safes containing the most valuables
have an electric alarm atttached. Any
tampering with it will communicate the
fact to the owners or the safe's guardian,
which in cities is either an electric pro
tective bureau or a central police station. A
recent invention in France is a photographic
attachment. As soon as a safe is touched
this device will light an electric lamp, pho
tograph the intruder and give the alarm at
the Electric Protective Company's office.
As a consequence safe breaking is going out
of date in France, as the cleverest criminals
have so far failed to nnd a way to circum
vent the camera.
The first thing considered by a gang of the
finest experts is a desirable bank's location
and the chances forgetting safely nwav with
the plunder. Every transportation facilitv
is carefully considered. As the work is
almost invariably done at a season of the
year when wagon roads are impassible, rail
way time-tables are carefully considered.
In these days of the telegraph and telephone
the gang must be undercover in a large city
or concealed with friends by the time the
crime is discovered, which, at the utmost, is
about six hours after the crime has been
committed. From November 1 to March 1
is the safe burglars' harvest time, because
then the'nights are longest and the cnances
of detection less, as fewer people are on the
streets and houses adjoining being tightly
closed to exclude cold, exclude noises also.
A man can furthermore carry tools in an
overcoat without attracting a'ttention that
he could not wear with a summer suit. The
remainder of the vear is spent in "marking"
the most desirable banks for future opera
tions. Four men, who compose the ordin
ary safe mob, will put up from 30 to 40
"jobs" for a winter's work, allowing for all
contingencies. From six to ten of these will
be carried out.
MAKING PEELIMINAEY PEEPAISATIONS.
Having decided on a'bank, the -habits of
the cishier and other chief employes are
carefully studied, above all of those who
visit the bank after working hours, chief of
whom is the watchman, if the bank has
one. If the watchman drinks, or spends
time visiting women when he should be at
the bank, he is any easy prey. "Weeks, and
sometimes even months, a're spent in put
ting up a job of magnitude, and often a
number of smaller jobs are done to carry
out one where the proceeds may run up
into the tens of thousands of dollars.
Men visit the town who have a legitimate
business as a "blind." They make all pre
liminary prepara.ions. The greatest inge
nuity is employed to obtain exact informa
tion. Such as the evenings the cashier or
teller is likely to visit the bank and the ex
act time. Here is one of the devices em
ployed: After the bank has been closed in
the evening pins are stuck obliquely in the
casing of the door in such a manner that it
cannot be opened without bending or dis
placing them. If the pins are placed at 7
aud found disturbed at 10 o'clock on one
night, the "feeler out" comes back at 9.30
the next. He continues in this way until
he ascertains on just what night or nights
of the week and the hour regular employes
who have keys are likely to visit the bank
for inspection or to do extra work.
Keys are fitted to every door which stands
between the street and the bank vault by
means of a thin sheet of brass, as near as
possible the same size as the keyhole and
covered with a thin coat of carbon, which
may be applied with a match. A dozen en
trances may have to be made to the bank
before it is finally robbed. A' key is fitted
first to the outer door. It is opened on a
favorable night and a key fitted to the next
door. This course is continued until keys
are had of every door leading to the vault.
Having the watchman unci officials of the
bank down fine, one of the last things to do
is to select a lavoraoie nignt. xne men
who have done all the preliminary work
then take their departure, and have no
further part except to receive their shares.
Saturday is the best night, if the trains suit
Sunday night, because the "gopher blow
ers' have all of Saturday night, Sunday and
Snnday night to work.
.men tne nans burglar proper appears.
He has usually three assistants. The gang
never appear until the night of the robbery,
and then not till 11 or 12 o'clock. 1 there
is a watchman, his habits and disposition
have been carefully noted, and, having ac
cess to the bank by keys, it is an easy mut
ter to surprise and overpower him. A
"crow" is next planted outside, or in
upper window, if there be one, .to give no
tice, by means of signals or a cord reaching
to the workers, of the approach of a pa
trolman or chance passerby. A regular
code of signals is used, telling when to
cease operations and seek cover and when to
resume work.
Next is brought into use 'the simplest
and yet strongest and most complete tool
for the purpose. It is six inches in length
and two inches in diameter at
one end, tapering to nothing at
the other, kit is pear-shaped, and a
thread extends from end to end. It
is made of Muchet's tool steel, the best in
the world. A second wedge-shaped tap
works inside this tool. "When this tap is
screwed home it exerts
A SPREADING FOECE OF MANY TONS.
This tool, "the persuader," is inserted in
the most minute crack or drill hole, and,
properly blocked at the right time, will
force the strongest safe door open with a
sound no loader than an ordinary fire
cracker will make. The oater and'inner
doors open, if there be a time-lock on the
chest, a small dynamite cartridge is placed
opposite, a detonating fuse lighted and the
outer door closed. The jarring caused by
the explosion, which makes a noise scarcely
as loud as pistol shot, disarranges the
works of the time-lock, which runs down
and is useless, the lock running down
with exactly a clock's sound when it is do
ing the same.' The heavy outer door of the
vault being closed scarcely an audible
sound reacnes tne street.
"Where drilling is necessary a light, com-
Eact machine, which fits .the combination
andle and which rapidly drills a small
hole above the water rim of the combination
dial plate, is used. A small steel broach is
then inserted and the combination knob
turned until the tumblers are brought into
position, thus permitting the "dog" m1 bar
to drop. A turn of the handle shoots the
bolts back and the door swings open.
If the operators find on entering the
vault that the steel chest is an improved
one they then proceed to "strip" it. Sheet
after sheet is taken off until the works are
exposed. This is done by using a "crow,"
which is sectional that is it may be ex
tended or contracted, as may be necessary.
To an ordinary observer the "crow" looks
like the bar which holds the "manhole"
plate of a steam boiler in place, and is
worked on precisely the same principle.
Should it be necessary to "wedge" a safe
open, a modified form of the old "drag" is
used. It is a light but rigid and strong
steel bar, sectional, so as to suit different
sized safes, and for ease in transportation,
which clamps the outer side ot the safe.
Through the bar is run a screw-threaded
bolt, with a ball joint at one end for a re
ceiving wedge. On the other ehd is worked
1 a railroad wrench, used by track hands for
tightening rails, and which can be procured
from any railroad section house. "With
wedging and blocking, no door can resist
this instrument. Sometimes a miniature
railroad "jack," such as engineers carry, is
substituted. A heavy cleat is firmly fast
ened in proper position and place on the
floor. The wedge in the crack, the "jack"
in place, the result is but a question of time.
GETTING ATVAT THE-itABDEST PAET.
This is sufficient demonstration of how
the money is procured, and I will detail
some of the methods of getting safely
away, which is really the hardest part of
the work. Suppose the place of robbery is
between Pittsburg and Philadelphia. A
coniederate either male or female, the lat
ter preferred secures a lower berth in a
sleeping car that will stop at the scene of
the robbery or some poiut close by. The
berth is always on the side of the car oppo
site the station. The car window is open on
arrival at this point, and the "boodle" is
passed through, thus leaving the thieves to
escape unburdened. If caught no evidence
is found upon them, as the choicest tools
are sent with the "swag" and the rest
thrown away, and part of the proceeds can
be used to effect their discharge it they are
arresieu.
Should the railroad scheme not be avail
able, the plunder is secreted close by until
it can be safely removed. Among the favor
ite places in which to do this are churches,
schoolhouses and graveyards. If a school
house or a church is chosen the floor of the
platform is cut in the under side. Suf
ficient screws are counter-sunk to hold the
boards in place and the holes are filled with
putty of the same color as the surrounding
surface. It was such a receptacle that held
safely for months the millions of dol
lars iu bonds stolen from the
Northampton bank, of Northampton,
Mass., in which the notorious "Tfprt
Learv" figured prominently. If a grave
yard be the planting place, a family vault
which has not been used or some timet is
selected, Keys ntted, a coffin opened, the
"swae" put iu, the lid replaced and the
door re-closed until time for removal ot the
I plunder. Fearful that some mav think this
ast statement exaggerated, I will referthem
to the case of old man Yost, the king of
"store workers" in his day, who robbed a
jewelry store in Springfield, 111., a few
years ago, and hid the pluuder in a ceme
tery vault, where it was found, with an
accomplice-'s assistance, a few months later.
THE BEST MEANS OF PBOTECTION.
Mechanics have a maxim that "the best
machine is the simplest." So in protecting
a safe the simplest means is the best. Po
lice Superintendent "Walling, of New York
City, about 15 years ago, when sale robbery
was almost an 'every-night occurrence, in
structed banks and business men to place
their safes or vaults in plain view of the
street and to have a light burning brightly
in front of them. "With this addition the
plan is unsurpassed: Have a watchman
visit your bank or store everv half hour,
thoroughly investigate and signal some
centrally located point. Should he fail to
do so at the exact aud proper time let the
central protective or detective bureau send
out an alarm, surround the last place he
was heard from and the place he was next
due at, and I will guarantee that safe rob
beries will be-few and losses slight in your
oity or town. Jon Ex-Criminal.
A Prediction That Came True.
New York Weekly.
Mrs. Maggie Oh, I jnst tell yon the
earth is full of wonders! My poor, dear
husband predicted the very day of his
death.
Caller He was rather morbid, though,
for vears, was he not?
"Yes, indeed. He was always saying he
was going to die soon, and I knew in my
heart it would come true some time, and
sure enough'it did."
Tin Betwecn-tbe-Acts Fiend.
Chorus of Long-suffering Theater-goers
Don't trouble vourself to eo out: hare a
little of this! PucJfc.
HORSPORD'S 'ACID PHOSPHATE
' For Klght Sweat!
Of consumption, gives speedy benefit.
THE ENGLISH IDEA
Of Life Not Suited to the' American
Style of LiYing.
MRS. DAHLGKEN SCENTS DANGEE.
Turning Day Into Night Places Society in
the Hands of Tonus Folk.
WHI WE CAM0T IMIfATE THE EFJFETE
COEBISFONDENCX or Till DISPATCH.
ASHINGTON, Jan-
jn nary 26. That it rests
ill gtcab fJUifc nithu uu&
women to elevate the
standard of manners
and regulate our
modes of living goes
without the saying.
The gathered wealth
ot the native finds its
wav sooner or later
mostly into our hands, for American men
are generous and good and kind to the
women of this country in ways unknown to
the men of other lands.
Holding this great responsibility it is im
portant that we make 10b mistakes in the
molding of social usage. And in doing
this, in the very first place, in the name of
common sense, let ns be true to ourselves.
Let us neither be Frencrrnor English in the
observance of social forms, but American
strictly American.
To copy the forms that regulate the social
methods of other nations is a great blunder
of ours.
At this moment the tendency of fashion
leans toward the English, and the mandate
seems to have gone forth that to be in "good
form" one must wear English clothes, use
English phrases and intonations and, worst
of all, adopt English hours.
I venture the opinion that nothing could
be more preposterous than this caprice.
"When we consider that English society is
represented by an aristocracy that holds a
very precarious tenure of power; that per
chance out of the present upheaval may
come "the survival of the fittest," and that
it is likely that the now existing forms that
regulate the modes of living of the upper
classes must be essentially modified to meet
the advancing pressure and influx of new
ideas and new demands, we will realize that
the model is unsuited to us.
ABSOLUTELY DErVELTNG.
Here we are, in the vigor and the sweep
and the power of our vast wealth and ex
tent of area, measurablr free from the
swaddling bands of antecedents, with our
countiy filled with splendid men who are
not drones, not claiming exemption or the
inherited right to dominate, but each leader
among us holding in his busy hands God's
patent of nobility. Here we are, swooping
down from our eagle's eyrie, to imitate the
effete! It is too inane, insipid and tiresome
to contemplate! It is absolutely driveling!
Wc work up to a dazzling heigh't, and then,
just as we are ready to cry out "Eureka!"
and show society the purest and best models,
we sink into au incomprehensible lethargy.
"When we reach the social heights we seem
to succumb to the glamor that leads social
life under conditions utterly dissimilar to
our own.
Perchance, for instance, those unfortun
ates who live in a murky, foggy, rainy
atmosphere may find it more agreeable to
turn day into night in choosing their hours
of entertaining. But it assuredly is a very
foolish imitation for ui, who enjoy so much
gloriouB sunlight, to shut it out from our
drawing-rooms in the daytime, or worse yet,
to choose the most somber hours of the
night for our choicest entertainments.
A score of years ago 6 o'clock was ac
cepted as a suitable dinner bonr by our best
people, when our leading men, having used
the day in active effort and to some useful
purpose, were fairly ready to discuss and
enjoy a good dinner. By 9 o'clock, at that
time, the most elegant assemblies com
menced, and our polite society was prepared
to exchange the more formal dignity ot the
prandial feast for the increasing hilarity of
the evening.
THE YOUNG IN CONTBOL.
Now the hours adopted for occasions of
social festivity become very important be
cause they insensibly regulate our modes of
living in other things.
If onr principal business men and our
matrons who are social leaders are expected
to sit np all night in order to preside over
fashionable assemblies, then the practical
and more important lite of the nation is by
that very means relegated to another set of
men and women, who, in consequence of the
virtual withdrawal during the day of theie
trained and capable minds, have to take the
conduct of affairs into their own hands and
mold the future of the country as best they
can.
Now these others are perhaps not so well
fitted by careful training, and thus a de
terioration is inevitable. Or again, bv the
time men and women have reached middle
life, and have on account of their experi
ence become peculiarly fitted to direct so
ciety, they find it irksome if not physically
dangerous to expose themselves to the strain
of such late hours.
As a result, society places itself, perforce.
in the hands oi a lot of young people who
will doubtless in course of time become very
capable society leaders, but who make no
end ot mistatces from lack ot experience.
SOCIAL STANDARDS LOWEBED.
Thus our social standards become insensi
bly lowered.
It may be "awfully jolly" for a company
of younsters to enjoy themselves after their
own fashion, unrestricted by the presence of
their seniors, but it is very detrimental to
good breeding, and must result in a corrnp
tion'of manners painful to contemplate.
In view of these considerations, I would
urge that the matrons who are societv lead
ers"Should return to the observance of those
hours that were considered the best beiore
we were led away by this prevailing Anglo
mania. In fact, from the expressions of sentiment
I have myself heard on this subject from
various ladies, whose, opinions have de
servedly great weight, it is to be hoped that
already the tide begins to turn and that
there is a reflux in the right direction.
There is also another fact in this connec
Donsld McKay.
vyrz-kiofc.s
Mm
medicine has accomplished more cures than any similar medicine known
to civilization. The
OREGONIlSrDIAWS: ' '
first used it to eradicate tho Poisonous Blood Taints contracted from the
white adventurers. It cures
DYSPEPSIA, LIVER COMPLAINT AND DISEASED KIDNEYS.
All druggists keep it It has been imitated and counterfeited.
The genuine has the name blown in -the bottle and a cut of the greatest
Indian Scout, '
Donald McKay, on White Wrapper, Red Letters.
tion to be noted. The hours that the aris
tocracy of England observe are so- peculiar
to themselves that they are not adopted on
the Continent, where a nicer taste iu the re
finements of social life has hitherto been
supposed to exist.
It was never for a moment admitted until
of late years that the English had any
especial adaptation, natural or acquired, for
the elegancies of lite.
The Anglo-Saxon genius that certainly
leads the world and molds its progress in
various directions, was never regarded as
peculiarly fitted to regulate social etiquette
or form model manners.
On the contrary, the English lack the
pliancy and fine tact of the French. It may
be said they have no tact, and are therefore
essentially unfit to discriminate a3 to the
very delicate discernment required.
ADVANTAGES OF AMERICANS.
Bat we Americans have the advantage
over both the French and English, for we
inherit Saxon strength and Latin versatil
ity. "What we seem most to need ir the
good common sense to appreciate the ad
vantages we possess and to make proper ue
of them. "We would seem to need the
equipoise, the aplomb that marks those who
are accustomed to rule and mean to hold
the feins. It is a pity that we are not
more sure of ourselves, for many of our
social leaders are very elegant women, who
have wealth and the pleasant leisure that
grows out of an exemption from the carea
incident to narrow means. There they are
traveled and observant, and if they would
only te natriotic enough to determine that
the definite standard ot our customs should
be American, it would be nothing more
than the grandeur of the Nation nas a right
to expect.
The 12 o'clock breakfast and the 130
o'clock luncheon have within the past few
years found a well-defined place in our so
cial customs. They are both excellent, each
in its way. The breakfast interferes less
with other social engagements than tha
luncheon, especially it it is somewhat sio-'
pie, and does not, consequently, cousume too
mnch time. In both cases it would add to
the social brilliancy to invite men as well as
women.
A DANGEROUS PEECEDENT.
It is a dangerous precedent "or women to
make to leave men out of social life in any
of its phases. The best way to polish the
manners of men is to bring them as often as
possible nnder the influence of refined
women, and the best way to keep
women from indulging in trivial talk is to
associate them on all social occasions with
highly educated men.
A breakiast of six courses at 11 o'clock or
noon, where clever men and women can
meet for an hour, will give a fine zest to the
entire day. The stimulating coffee, spark
ling champagne and bright conversation,
mingle with the clear sunshine of our high
noon and give an exhilarating and bracing
power to meet the active duties before us.
If luncheon is at 2 o'clock it is better that it
should not last much more than an hour,
and eight courses will consume qnite as
much time as one can conveniently or agree
ably set aside. The luncheon as well as tha
breakfast would, it seems to me, be greatly
improved by the presence of gentlemen.
This innovation has to my knowledge been
attempted at several lunche, and has always
met with unqualified success.
If a popular vote could decide this ques
tion I fancy there would be au overwhelm
ing majority in favor of admitting the men.
At present gentlemen amnse themselves by
wondering how it is that the ladies consume
so much time in this modeof entertainment
They even hint that it is stupid to foot the
bills, equal to their "stag suppers."
I would suggest thatthe two be fused into
one, which make conflicting interests meet,
especially if elaboration should be reserved
for the dinner.
Madeleine Vinton Dahlgeen.
very Hoaseiioid
Should have Ayer's Cherry Pectoral.
It saves thousands of lives annually,
, and is peculiarly efficacious in Croup,
"Whooping Cough, and Sore Throat.
"After an extensive practice of nearly
one-third of a century, Ayer's Cherry
Pectoral is my cure for recent colds and
coughs. I prescribe it, and believe it
to be the very best expectorant now
offered to the people." Dr. John C.
Levis, Druggist, West Bridgewater, Pa.
" Some yearsago Ayer's Cherry Pec
toral enred me of asthma after the best
medical skill had failed to give me re
lief. A few weeks since, being again a
little troubled with the disease, I was
promptly
Relieved By
the same remedy. I gladly offer this
testimony for the benefit of all similarly
afflicted.1' F. H. Hassler, Editor Argus.
Table Bock, Nebr.
"For children afflicted with coId3,
coughs, sore throat, or croup, I do not
know of any remedy which will give
more speedy relief than Ayer's Cherry
Pectoral. I have found it, also, invalu
able in cases of whooping cough."
Ann Lovejoy, 1251 "Washington street,
Boston, Mass. '
"Ayer's Cherry Pectoral has proved
remarkably effective in croup and is
invaluable as a family medicine."
D. M. Bryant, Chicopee Falls, Mass. '
Ayer's Ciierry Pectoral,'
PEEPAT.ED BY
Dr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Mass.
Bold by all DrugghU. Price 1 ; six bottles, Si.
DESKS
A SPECIALTT.
The Most Completb
ijTocK In the city.
BED KOCK PRICES.
We al-o manufacture this
wonderfnl combination
Easy Chair.
STEVENS CHAIR CO.
No. 3 SIXTH ST.,
jalO-su PITTSBURG, PA
.sjlL
HiiH
WHO IS THIS MAN?
He is the man "with the greatest and best record ot
any man in hi3 class. He served the U. S. Govern
ment twenty-two and a half years, as
SCOUT, GUIDE AND INTERPRETER.
In I860 he conquered the largest savage tribe of In
dians west of the Eockies; in 1873 he killed and
captured all of the hostile Modocs, accomplishing
more effectual service for the Government than any
man, living or dead. He introduced Ka-ton-ka to
the white people in 1876, and this simple Indian
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