fc H v r v too mean for tbe great passions; he felt ;Db1t tbe sordid ones, which to a weman are the most hate ul. And instead of quailing 'Vshe looked at bim with flashing eyes. f ,, "I shall -warn him," she said. Ji'S "It will not help him," he answered, ait i..f ting still, and feeling the edge of the hatchet jB ' with his fingers. W . "It will help him," she retorted. "He i stall co. He shall escape hefore they come." "I have looted the doors 1" "GiTe me the key!" she panted. "Give me tbe key, I say!" She had risen and was standing before him, her figure drawn to its lull height He rose hastily, and retreated behind tbe table, still retaining the hatchet in bis grasp. "Stand back," he said sullenly. "Yon may awaken him if you please, my girL It will not avail him. Do von not understand, fool, that he is worth 5 crowns? And, listen! it is too late now. They are here!" A. blow fell on the door as he spoke, and be stepped toward it. But at that despair moved her, and she threw herself upon hinf, and, tor a moment, wrestled with him. At last, with an effort, he flung her off, and, brandishing bis weapon in her face, kept her at bay. "You vixeii"" be cried, savagely, retreating to the door with a pale cheek, and his eyes still on her or he was an arrant cowara. --xou deserve to go to prison with "him, vrfu jade! I will have you in the stocks ior this!" She leant against the wall where she had fallen, ber white despairing face seemed almost to shine in the darkness of the wretched room. Meanwhile the continuous murmur of men's voices outside could now be heard, mingled with the ring of weapons; and the summons lor admission was again and again repeated as if those without bad no mind to be kept waiting. "i-atiencel patience! I am opening!" be cried. Still keeping his face to her, he un locked the door and called on tbe men to anfr 'TTa in in li ctir Tlf la II.mJ" fhe cried.in a tone ot triumph, his eyes still ta nis wne. "He win give you no trouble, I will answer for it! But first give me my & crowns. Mayor. Mr 5 crowns!" He still le.lt so ranch iear of bis wife that be did not turn to see the men enter, and was tacen Dy surprise when a voice at his elbow a strange voice said: "Five crowns, my friend? .For what, may I ask?" In his eagerness and his excitement be suspected nothing, but thought only that tbe Mayor had sent a deputy. "For what? For the Girondml" he answered rapidly. Then at iast he turned and found that balf & dozen bad entered, and that more were entering. To bis astonishment, thev were all strangers to him men with stern", gloomy faces and armed to the teeth. There was something so formidable in their ap pearance that his voice (altered as he added, "But where is tbe Mayor, gentlemen? I do sot see bim." " No one answered, but in silence the last of the men there were 11 in all entered 'and bolted the door behind him. Michel Tellier peered attbemintbe gloom with - growing alarm. In return the tallest of the strangers, who bad entered first and seemed -to be in command, looked around keenlv. At length this man spoke. "So you have a Girondin here, have you?" he said, his voice curiously sweet and sonorous. "I was to have 5 crowns for bim," Michel stuttered dubiously. "Oh, Petion," continued the spokesman to one of his companions, "can you kindle u light? It strikes me that we have bit upon a dark place." The man addressed took something from bis pouch. For a mouant there was silence broken only by tbe. sharp sound of the flint striking tbe steel. Then a sudden glare lit up the dark interior, and disclosed the group of cloaked strangers standing about the door, the light gleaming back irom their muscetry and cutlasses. Michel trembled. He bad never seen such men as these before. True, they were wet and travel-stained; and bad the air ot ' . those who spend their nights in ditches and tinder haystacks. But their pale, steru faces were set in indomitable resolve. Their , eyes glowed with a steady fire, and they trod as kings Iread. Their leader was a man of majestic height and beautv, and in bis eyes alone there-seemed to lnrk a spark of some lighter fire as it bis spirit still arose - above tbe task, which had sobered his com- - pinions. Michel noted all this in fear and bewilderment; noted the white head and yet vigorous bearing of tbe man who bad struck tbe light noted even the manner in which tbe light died away in the dim re- . cesses ot tbe barn. "And this Girondin is he in hiding sere? saia me tail man. "That is so." Michel answered. "Bnt T bad nothing to do with hidinc bim. citizen. "sit was my wife hid him in the straw there." "And vou cave notice oi his nrcwnu in rtihb authorities?" ccutinued the stransrer. praising bis hand to repress some movement k 'among bis followers. t ' ''Certainly, 6r you would not have been jj'ere," replied Michel, better satisfied with himself. , The answer Struck him down with an aw ' Jul terror. "That does not follow," said the 5 tall man, coolly. "For we are Girondins!" 1 'Ton arel" W "Without doubt," the other answered, g -.-with majestic simplicity. "Or there are no l.snch persons. This is Petion and this Citi jA.xen Buzot Have you heard of Louvet? There he stands. For me, I am Barba roar." Michel's tongue seemed glazed to the roof of his mouth. He could not utter a word. y But another could. On the far side of the ' barrier a sudden rustling was beard, and v while all turned to look but with what dif ferent feelings! The pale face of the youth, over whom Michel had bent on tbe afternoon appeared above the Dartition. A smile of joyiul recognition effaced for the time the lines of exhaustion. The young man, cling ing for supiort to the planks, uttered a cry nf f1mntmtnee "tf te rnnl T ta -a-ll.. youl You are safe." he exclaimed. "We are safe, all of us, Pierre," Barbar- oux answered. "And now" and be turned to Micbel Tellier with sudden thunder In 'his voice "this man whom you jrould have betrayed is our guide, let me tell you. whom we lost iast night. topeaC, matt, in yonr defence. If you can. Sav what vou have to sav whv justice shall not be done upon you, miserable caitin who would have sold a Xjt mana me ior a lew pieces oi silver. T The wretched np-ns-int's fcna tnmliU rand the perspiration stood upon his brow. ne ceara tne voice as me voice ot a judge. -ne loo.eu in tne stern eyes oi the (iiron dins, and read only anger and vengeance. Then he caught in the silenoe the sonnd of 'his wife weeping for at Pierre's appear ance she had broken into wild sobbing 'and be spoke out the base instincts oi his heart. "He was her lover," he muttered. 'I swear it, citizens. "He lies," cried the -man at tbe barrier. his face tranfigured with rage. "I loved her, it is true, but it was before her old fatner sold ber to this Judas. For what he would have you believe now. my friends, it isjalse. 1 too, swear it," A murmur of execration broke from the e pmnn of Girondins. BarbarnnT rpnrpd I t it by a gesture. "Wbat do yon say or this N"f 'man? be asked, turning to them, his voice ?.lrTdeep and solemn, I "He is not fit to livel" they answered in "i, chorus. . The tioor cdward screAmeri sm lip tienrrl thm words, and, flinging nimself on the cround. he embraced Barbaroux'a knees in a parox- vim of terror. Bnt the JndpR did nnt Innb him Havhamnrtnrnafl lnif.n tt TO!.. 'Brinat "What do you sayo! him?" be asked. He is not fit to live," said tbe vounz ,man solemnly, bis breath coming quick and -fast. "And yon?" Barbaronx continued, turn ing and looking with his eyes of fire at tbe wile, bis voice gentle, and yet more solemn. A moment before she bad ceased to weep, and had stood up listening and gazing, awe and wonder in her face. Barbaroux had to ' repeat his question before she answered. ; Then she said: "He is not fit to die." There was silence for a moment, broken only by tbe entreaties of tbe wretch on tbe floor. At last Barbaroux spoke: "She has said rightly," he pronounced, "he shall '' live. They have put us out oi the law and set a price ou our heads; but we will keep the law. He shall live. But, bark yon,', the great orator continued, in tones which Michel never lorgot, "If a whisper escape you as to onr Dresence here, or onr names. UT - . . . i w . yoa wrong yow wue vj worn or aeeo, j the life she has saved shall pay for it. Be member," "he added, shaking Michel to and fro with a finger, "tbe arm of Barbaroux is long, and though I be a hundred leagues away I shall know and I shall punish. So beware! Now rise, and live!" The miserable man cowered back to the wall Tightened to tbe core or his heart The Girondins conferred awhile in whispers, two of their number assisting Pierre to cross tbe barrier. Suddenly there came and Michel trembled anew as he heard it alond knock ing at the door. AH started and stood listening and waiting. A voice outside cried, "Open! Openl in the name of the lawl" "We have lingered too long," Barbaroux muttered. "I should have thought of this. It is the Mayor ot Carbaix come to appre hend our friend." Again the Girondins conferred together. At last, seeming to arrive at a conclusion, thev ranged themselves on either side of tbe door, and one ot their number opened it. A short, stont man, girt with a, tricolor sash, and wearing a hnge sword, entered with an air of authority being blinded with tbe light be saw nothing out of the common and was followed by four men armed with muskets. Their appearance produced an extraor dinary effect on Michel Tellier. As they one by one crossed the threshold, the peasant leaned forward, his face flushed, bis eyes gleaming, and counted them. They were only hye. And tne others were 12. He fell back, and from that moment his belief in tbe Girondins' power was clinched. "In tbe name of the law," panted tbe Mayor. "Why did you not" Then he stopped abruptly his mouth remaining open. He found himsell surrounded by a group of grim, silent mutes, with arms in their hand, and, in a twinkling it flashed into his mind that these were the 11 chiefs of the Girondins whom he bad been warned to keep watch for. He had come to catch a pigeon and caught a crow. He turned pale and his eyes dropped. "Who are who are these gentlemen?" he stammered, in a ludicrously altered tone. "Some volunteers of Qnmpen, returning home," replied Barbaroux with ironical smoothness. "You have your papers, citizens?" the Mayor asked mechanically; and he took a step back toward tbe door and looked over his shoulders. "Here they arel" said Petion rudely, thrusting a packet into his bands. "They are in order." The Mayor took them, and longing only to see tbe outside of tne door, pretended to look through them, his little heart going pit-a-pat within him. "They seem to be in order," be assented feebly. "I need not trouble you further, citizens. I came here under a misapprehension, I find, and I wish you a good journey." He knew as he backed out that he was cutting a poor figure. He would faiu have made a more dignified retreat. But before these men, fugitives and outlaws as they were, he felt, though he was Mayor of Car baix, almost as small a man as did Michel Tellier. These were the men of the Ee vo lution. They had bearded nobles and pulled down kings. There was Barbaroux, who had grappled with Marat, and Petion, the Mayor of the Bastile. Tbe little Mayor of Carbaix knew greatness when he saw it. He turned tail and hurried back to bis fireside, bis bodyguard not a bit behind bim. Five "minutes later the men he feared and envied came out also, and went their way, passing in single file into the darkness which brooded over the great monolith: be ginning, brave hearts, another of the few. stages wnicn still lay oetween them and the guillotine. Then in the cottage there re maining only Michel and Jeanne. She sat by the dying embers, silent and lost in thought. He leaned against the wall, bis eyes roving ceaselessly; but always when his gnze met hers it ell. Barbaroux bad conquered him. It was not till Jeanne had risen to close the door, and he was alone that he wrung his hands and muttered, "Five crowns! Five crowns gone and wasted." THE -EST). THE COFFEE DETJKKABD. Once Under tbe Influence of tba Berry Be lrae ta Almost Impossible. London Standard. In the course of his studies Dr. Mendel found very few instances in which the con firmed coffee drunkard was ever cured. The symptoms constantly grow worse, and are only to be relieved by large quantities of the beverage, the abnse oi which has caused tbem. In this way the victims go from bad to worse, for, thoueb well aware of the mis chiei being wrought, they suffer so severely that they are afraid to abandon tbe habft lest death should end the agony they ex perience. After beginning with the agreeable in fusion of the roasted berries they are driven, in their search or something more powerful, to swallow the tincture, which, though it operates for a time in the direction desired, soon loses its efficacy, and has to be swal lowed in greater and greater quantities, tbe evil Influence of the coffee being, of course, heightened by the alcohol used to extract its essential ingredients. Wnen brandy is taken, only temporary relief folio ws.thoueh not infrrqnently tbe Intoxication produced by the latter is eaeerly welcomed in order to deaden the anguish caused by the inordi nate indulgence in the former. The last stage of this peculiar disease shows itself in the sallow lace and chilly hands and feet of tbe victims, coupled with an expression ot dread and acony which settles over the countenance a form oi melancholia, alternated by hysteria, only to be temporarily relieved by repeated appli cation to the coffee pot or to a strong tincture formed by steeping the crushed berries in spirits of wine. Meantime the diseased state of tbe body is demonstrated by the acute in flammation which is apt to supervene at any moment. A bruise, a cut, a prick or a sting, which in a healthy person would he scarcely noticed, is tbe starting point for inflamma tion of an erysipelatous character, so that it seldom happens that the coffee inebriate is long-lived. Coffee drunkards are more common among people of a nervous temperament than In tbe ranks of the stolid, phlegmatic folks, not easily moved by any stimulus, or who, like many Germans, pre.er eating to drinking. BELIC3 OF A HERO. Diary of the KJng; of oweden on Bla Visit to tbr Tomb of Charles XII. On the 31st of August, 1859, another King Charles stood surrounded by some of tbe highest in the land in the cathedral of Bid darbolmen, in the Carolingian vault, by the side ot tbe open sarcophagus of his re nowned namesake. A conscientious ex amination corroborated ou this occasion how groundless were all the suspicions that our hero fell by the hand of an assassin. Let us thank God for the certainty that bis lie, so foil oi great deeds, had a better and, for him, more worthy ending. I, too, was fortunate enough to be permit ted to glance at the remains of this remark able man, be'ore whom EuroDe once trem bled, and above whose blanched temples innumerable trophies float high up in the dome, so eloquent in their silenoe, says the King of Sweden in his diary. Tne moment is as memorable as it was solemn, and the features of Charles XIX are deeply im pressed on my mind. Leave was given me to break off a leaf oi the lanrel wreath which shadowed bis forehead and to cut off a lock of his hair, in remembrance of tbe day. To these treasures I can add two more symbolic of Charles, namely, one ot tbe trusty swords with which be so o'ten fought his way to victory, and bU Bible, from tbe pages of which be derived those precepts that impart strength in all vicissitudes, ind which tare eo beauti ully expressed in tbe famous old war cry of the Carolingians "With God's help." Cap and Wrrda for Widows. The custom for widows to wear a peculiar style of cap is of Soman origin, and the wearing of "weeds" was compulsory for ten months. (See "Epistles oi Seneca.") The term "weeds" was used in the Middle Ages to signily as entire drew. Girls Who HaTe Bald-Headed Lovers Bare a KomanUc Remedy. SOME OP THE WOKS OF MATRIMONY Hints for tbe Proper People Who Intend to Give Dinners. MULIOHIIBES WHO BATE PEHKIES rcosaxsroxoExcx or thk dismtch.i Ifiw York, August 30. N the appearance of a real bald-head there is nothing romantic, and yet love finds a chance at times to surround it with a halo of sentiment. A wicked barber, a fashionable, but nev erthless woefully talkative barber, dis closes one of tbe sweetest secrets it has ever been my lot to hear. The secret was originally possessed by the barber and two young, trusting : hearts, but now it is known by a score or more of persons, all customers of the barber; and at last it came from one of them to me. A young man of many good points, but with none on his head, was for five years a victim to the promises ot the tonsorial artist, who guaranteed to bring hair out ou his shiny pate, but who did not keep his word. Some men confide their love affairs to their tailots, others to their doctors, and still oth ers to the men that mix their cocktails. This young man, upon losing his heart to a sweet and promising maiden, confided his passion to his barber. THE LASSIE TO THE EESCTJE. That worthy sympathized with him deep ly, and redoubled bis exertions to lure the downy fringe upon the head of Borneo, but without effect. Finally both the barber and the lover lost hope together, and H was then that the young man made a trembling propo sition. ' "Louise does not like a baldhead," said he, "although of course mine is not unpleas ant to her. Nevertheless, she prefers to have it covered, and so we have reached a conclusion. I always said, you know, that I would never wear a toupee, but Louise has placed tbe matter in (auch a light that I have acceded to her desires and will have one made. Louise's bair is just the color of the fringe over my ears, you see, and it hangs away down below her waist. She is going to sacrifice enough of it to mate me a toupee, and then, by jove, I shall be wear ing the same hair that my girl does. Louise was awfully tender about suggesting the thin?. Sweet of her. wasn't it? Oh. I tell you, there is nothing so beauti ul iu life as a good irirl when she is in love." Borneo now appears, in public adorned by a fine bead of handsome chestnut hair. SOME QITEEE 'WILM. Marriages are not made in beaven as much as in the olden time. Many are of the eartb. earthy; and it frequently happens that not until the death of the husband does the world get a correct idea of the fierceness of that compound known as love turned to to hate. A few months ago a well-known man be- ?ueathed to his wi e "the sum of 1 cent,, in nil payment of all the love and affection I ever received from her." Now another will is offered for probate in which the testator, an eccentric physician, sets forth bis pecu liar viewk as follows: "I declare this to be my last will and testament, I claim to be perfectly sound in bod; but I do not pre sume to iiffirni that I am sound in mind. I would stultify myelf by setting up such a pretension. I have about $60,000 oi invest ed funds. What a vast amount of hypoc risy, sorrow and falsehood I could buy with tnat amount! I thought first ol biqueathiug it to charity. But what's the use? The greatest benefactors of humanity are war and cholera. Besides, I owe a debt of grati tude to my wie, who lives I don't know where. She rendered me the greatest ser vice in her power. She abandoned me one Made Hit Barber Hit Confidant. fine day, and I have never heard of her since. In remembrance ot this kind act, I make her my sole legatee; however, on the express condition that she remarry at onee. In this way I shall be sure or knowing that my death was regretted by one human being at'least. BAVT HIS OWN 'WIDOW. You may smile when I tell you so, but there is a man living in a fashionable apart ment up town who has actually gazed upon his widow. This favored mortal has not only seen his widow, but has photographed her. Nav, still more astonishing, on the back of tbe photograph you may read lour obitnary notices cut from New York papers ahd pasted there by the man himself. Mr. Carl H. is a prominent art dealer and importer of oil paintings. While on. a journey last spring, a train which Mr. H., had come very near taking playfully skipped the tra'ck and rolled down a 100-foot embankment Sev eral were killed, and Mrs. Carl H.. tbe young wife, was terribly shocked to read her husband's name in the list. She telegraped to tbe company to cause the body to be em balmed and shipped to ber. Now, Mrs. H. is a charminsr blonde, with bairof rich gold and skin like mother-of-pearl. To be sure, she wonl 1 look lovely in widow's weeds and forthwith betook her self to Madam M's. and ordered a complete mourning costume to be ready in two days. Scarcely bad tbe dress, bonnet, etc., reached tbe house when a telegram arrived from her lord and master, dated at Chicago, announc ing that be wodld start on tbe limited that morning. THE SECBET OUT. Great heavens! Carl had not been smashed up at all. It was some wrong man that bad been embalmed, and she now had tbe corpse on ber hands, to say nothing of the widow's outfit. Fortunately just as the railroad people were about to sbip the smashed-np Carl to her, his own people ap peared and ,proved property. But the widow' outfit! It had cost 200. She hadn't the money. What was to be done7 At any rate, Carl must not know of it; so post ing down to Madam M.'s, she gave strict orders to send no bill to tbe house, and promised to call with the cash in the course ol a few weeks. This liras entirely satis factory, bnt Madam M. fbrgot to warn ber bookkeeper, and that machine-like person not only sent a statement in the first of the n3 SSfNffll wl ill montb, but as was her custom, directed it to Mr. Carl H. "In heaven's name Blanche, what -does bis mean?" he asked. ; "Why, dearie, you know when they tele graphed that you had been smashed up.and the newspapers all said yon were dead, X went and ." "Where is it?" stammered the surprised Carl. "Hidden away in my trunks, dearie." Did, Carl fly into a passion, and accuse the poor girl of being a cold-hearted and calculating woman? Not he; he merely said: "Get it out darling, and put it on, I want to try a new lens.and you'll make a delight ful subject in a widow's rig." HINNEB "WITH JXOWEBS. I have another bint for you people who give big dinners, and I get it straight from tbe other side of the ocean. This winter the candalabra with-wax tapers and tiny paper shades will not be so modish, and the reason is that they prevent the use of flowers. Tbe dictum now is: "No dinner without flowers in the wildest profusion." This is official. What may be served is a secondary consideration. The flowers now are the proof of the pudding. Well, as to the promised hint. "You secure five very large and very ele gant lamps, and these you place, one in the center o the table and one at each corner, and between the center lamp and the corner ones yon swing silken hammocks in aesthetic tints. 'JL'bese you will nil to overflowing; with natural flowers, tumbled in and tumbling ont, in artistic disorder. But, mark you, a prolusion of them, for without this you're lost Yes, it is rather expensive. That's the only objection. But folly is She Made a PrtUy Widow. always high-priced. Another objection to bo many flowers is that tbe stifling odor takes away all desire to eut Eat? Why, bless your simple mind, von must eat before yon leave the house. Business is always be. ore pleasure. CLOSE MILLIONAIRES. But all of us are not reckless. "Economv is getting to be a vice here in New York," said a hotel keeper on Filth avenue. "Here 1 have ajlozen families living with me on the American plan at rates that are suicidal to me. There is an old fellow over there drinking a pint of claret He lives here with bis wife, and has done so for yean. During the winter be takes board on tbe American plan, but during the summer, owing to the fact that he and his wife go outot town occasionally, he imagines that it would be cheaper for him to live on the European plan. This year I kept tally on the old fellow. The very last day he was here they ordered dishes that would have amounted to just $12 if they had been paying ior each dish. un tne loitowing day tbe two started on their European plan arrangement, paying for each item as they ordered it I never went further than the breakfast, for it would have broken my heart to have done so. The breakiats oi these two old misers amounted to just 65 cents. "WANTS TO EOAKD CLEEK3. "He is twice a millionaire, mind you. He is at this moment drinking a 50 cent bottle of claret, and he will have the barkeeper cork ud had of it no that he can finish it in About three hours from now. Funny, isn't it Those rich old ducks are nearly ali like that. There are young fellows come in here that I know are on small salaries, and they will spend more in five minutes than that man with the claret will in a week. He thinks more of a dollar than my bell hoys do of ten. A ter having one waiter for six months, be finally put a 0 cent piece on the table one day, and calling the waiter to bim, 'aid: '"What would you do with that 50 cent piece it I were to give it to you?' " 'Well,' replied the waiter, 'I am a mar ried man and have children. I can usually take care of 50 cent pieces.' "The old millionaire looked at the money for a minute and then put it back in his pocket '"I am afraid you might spend it for drink,' said he. That was some years ago, and the miser has never brongbtout a hall dollar since. I tell you what it is, I am going to start a hotel for mechanics and grocers' clerks. I can't make a cent out oi the millionaires." Claka Belle. A BILLIABD BA1IS FALL. From tbe Tmk of nn Elephant to u. Blaze for Ivory Black. There are few men or things that are called upon to roll into more close corners or queer stations tban is the billiard ball. An elephant either in Africa or Asia, car ries it with him in his wanderings very near to his trunk, says a writer of the New York Mail and Express. The tiansition from be ing an elephant's tusk to being a billiard hall in good standing is not sudden. There are several factories in New York City, and they say that it takes a good while to turn ont a per ect ball. One-half of it is first turned, an instrument of the finest steel be ing used for tbe work. Then tbe half turned ball is hung up in a net and is al lowed to hang there lor a year to dry. Then tbe second bait is turned and then conies the polishing. Whitening and water and a good deal of rubbing are necessary for this. It is necessary in tbe end that tbe ball shall, to tbe veriest fraction of a grain, be of a certain weight It is after being placed on the billiard table that the real life of tbe billiard ball commences. There are pores in ivory just as there are in epidermis. These may close, and then, if in a hot room, the ball is likely to crack, or it may crack by reason of con cussion With other balls. When it cracks it drops a step lower. It is sent to a factery and a small fraction of a nick is shaved off from it You next see it in some second-rate billiard room. Finally it rolls even lower and into some second hand shop, and thence into a Bowery saloon, where "crooks" manipulate it to the dismay and discomfiture of Visitors from the rural districts. The rest is soon told. The balls become cracked, decrepit and practically useless for the purpose lor which they were made. Then tbey are bought up by dealers, are cut up and made into smaller articles. If tbe worst comes to the worst, they can be burned and used in the making of ivory black. A checkered life enough is that of a billiard ball. FEBFECT HUMAN FOODS. Simple Dlthea That Come Near Sapplylng 411 Nece.tnry Nutriments. The New York Grocer says that the fried fishballs or the brown bread and baked beans ol New England are found to contain nearly the right proportions of nutriment required to maintain ad adult work ingman in proper condition, according to Yoit's standard. The pease porridge, seasoned with savory herbs, in which a little bit of pork la stewed, is also consistent with that standard, as are tbe bog and bominy of the Southern negro, in the proportions in which it is served one peek of meal to 3f pounds of bacon for a week's supply. w TEACHING TEACHERS. Bessie Bramble Thinks the Institute is Almost a Failure. WISE MEN WHO ARE 0NLT BORES. Too Hnch Grandiloquence and Too little Practical Thought. WS0KGS IN TUB AMERICAN SYSTEM rwamxa TOB TUB SIBF1TCB.I There is nothing that most teachers do more growling over than i'-e necessity of at tending what they are pleased to call "the "Institoot," especially when to attend it means cutting off a whole week of vacation and spending a good deal of change for car fare and other expenses. However, though they still growl, things are not so bad as tbey once were, since, if tbey are very good and punctual, they can get ten dollars Irom the State for taking in the dry lectures and sermons of tbe wise men, who find in these meetings their opportunity to spread them selves and air their pet ideas, clothed in fine phrases and big words. Most of this great annual output of wis dom goes to waste for some of tbe most learned men are, to say it softly, tremen dous bores, and the teachers yawn over their note books and wish in their inmost souls that snch speakers bad sense enough to keep their mouths shut or 'else would speak their pieces in good plain Enelish and not convey tbe idea that tbey bad been sitting up o' nigbts to show themselves off as prodi gies of learning. It the girls were not re strained by fear of the superintendent they would leave the ball as vacant as was tbe Senate chamber when Blair drowsed away every day on his interminable educational bill. WHAT'S IK A WASIE. Education should be a very interesting subject to teachers, bnt, oh, what .a fearful thing it is when some long-winded men get bold ofiit and prose over it to an audience that knows more practically about schools than the speakers. Citv teachers know all about the old, old story of "the institoot;" but they know it is part of the business, and they may as well accept it cheerfully. But the growling goes on nevertheless. By the way, wny not can it a convention, or an as sembly, or something the teachera have learned how to pronounce correctly. To call it "the institoot," as the majority do not as a joke, either is somewhat sug gestive of the Western wilds, or at least, the provinces. Another word the speakers use is the word they pronounce "lltterachoor" with a twang that would make the very stones cry out in Boston. These little matters should be noted by school superintendents, as well as the terrible slips in grammar as fre quently heard. Bichard Grant White says somewhere that "there is no wore English, in some respects, than that which is spoken and written by those who learn their lan guage in American public schools." That there is a'iarge percentage of truth in this remark can be very easily proven by visit ing the schools and hearing the magnates talk at the teachers' meeting. EFFECT OF POLITICS. But what better could be expected when so many of tbe schools are in the bunds of teachers who know little of what good English is themselves, and do not find that its daily murder inter eres with their ob taining a position to teach where their political friends have "inflooence." In a school in Pittsbnrg a teacher was heard to say to a small boy, "Look a-here, you jonnnie omitn, x saw you a-pusbing him. Now yon sit right down there on that there bench till I have time to give vou a settler." Then she proceeded to read a "po-um," be ginning a ter this style: "Blaze with your surry-ed col-yums," etc. Such teachers are not so rare as they should be. Good English cannot be taught by those, whose grade of culture is so mam estly low, and who lorm a laughing stock to some of their own pupils. Thft such persons find places in tbe schools is a measure of the brains of their school directors. Ignorant, uneducated men are o ten elevated by tbe votes oi their fellow citizens to the position oi school director, but certainly to tbe dis credit o himself and his district Superin tendents have no authority to remove an in competent teacher, and a stubborn boss oi a ward can keep such an incompetent person in place. THE INSTEUCTION OIVEir. A puzzle to plain people is how such teach ers, or even the host oi better ones, are to be instructed and entertained by being told by one of tbe leaders of tbe profession that ."Every normal activity oi the sonl leaves as its abiding result an increased power to act in like manner, and a tendency to act again. Power and tendency are tlie resultants of all human activity. Manh od Is the resnltant of the pa.vt experiences of the soul. Hence, whatever power and skill manhood most im peratively demands must be secured by right activity and training in childhood aud youth, and this may be reasonably asked of the public schools. The central," guiding, determining aim of tbe school must be man hood, and this is tbe one product that may be demanded of the public schools." Now this is very fina and very true, but does it go to tbe souls of the girls who are going to teach re iding, writing and arith metic and good English only until they get m trried? Another man writing as to what should be done in tne schools s. id: "It needs no urgumeut to prove the necessity of teach ing the principles of civfes in the schools."' It can easily be imagined how some oi "the girls" will be wondering wbat next is to be set down as of tbe first importance, and as an essential to the education ot every boy and girl. It might as well be stated here iu order to ease his mind that the principles of civics are taught in the public schools of Pittsburg. i A EEION OF HOBBIES. The amount of cant educational cant that gets an airing at tluse institutes is something amazing. It would seem as if every man had an educational hobby of some sort, and be must have an opportunity to trot it out and impress the girls with the amount of "stuff" tbey know. If the lat ter were not pretty well hardened they would stand It with much less patience tban tbey do. But as long as tbey consent to be bored, they will have to endure such infliction. Being in the majority, they could very easily take the -matter into their own hands. But not having a burning desire to spread themselves upon the stage, they stoic ally submit rather than take the trouble to protect themselves. One important matter that gets little at tention at the institutes is over-working the pupils. Men are moving to secure shorter hours for themselves, so as to have more time for leisure aud recreation, bnt it would seem to be the desite of educators to pile more and more toil upon the children. Six hours and more in tbe schoolroom, and then work to do at home to fill np the remainder of tbe time seems to be tbe order in the schools. Much complaint is beine made upon this suhject in European countries, particularly in Germany, where the long hours of study are said to be dwarfing ant) and stunting the children very perceptibly, and in addition are raining tbe eyesight of very many. A CKYI-rO EVri,. Tbe same result will follow here if the pressure is not in some way removed. But to this practical point tbe teachers do not address themselves. Another evil ot this over pressure is that tbe teacners are so driven with work that their evenings must be given to tbe examining and marking of manuscripts. Tbey have little or no chance (o keep up with new books or inform them selves on wbat belongs to tbeir profession, lor school work absorbs theirerening hours, and even breaks in upon Sunday. Teach ers never strike, but if tbey did, this being forced to earry work home to do at night would be a sufficient grievance. Talleyrand onee Hid of the Xsgliak school system: "It is the best I have ever seen, and it is abominable." The same, in some respects, might besaid as to tbe Ameri can system, in which the object seems not so mncb to educate children as to get them crammed for examinations and percentages. THE SCHOOL DIRECTORS. But perhaps the wosst evil about tbe American system cf public schools is placing the election o' teachers in tbe bands of ignorant men who have no idea o the proper qualifications lor so responsible a position. An unskilled teacher is a calam ity. With plenty oi normal schools and training schools for teachers, there is no ex cure for the election of incompetent teachers. There is no derense either for making a school a reward for political service. Althoughthe school system is the most boasted institution in th"e countrv, nobody will pretend that very much might not be done to make them better. There should be more attention given to arranging buildings for health and convenience. Mothers should be upon school boards. Evening study should be determinedly frowned down. Teachers should not be required to take work home. Moreover, they should not be giddv girls, who hate everything about a school except the pay. Instead of being a sort of asylum for impecunious and incom petent girls as so many are until some. " ool" man comes along to install th,em as equally incompetent housekeepers the schools should be in the hands of sensible, large-hearted teachers, who have' a talent and a love lor tbe bnsiness and can raise it to the elevation its importance really de serves. However, the responsibility comes back to the people themselves no, not the people but the voter, many of whom can them selves neither read nor write. Bessie Bramble. FISHING FOB TURTLES. As Soon as tbe Game Strike the Hook the Angler Dluit San. Providence Journal. While there is a great amount of pleasure in eating turtle soup, there is an eqnal amount in catching the "critter." During the early morning hours, after his lordship has returned from his walk, is the best time to fish for him. This may seem strange, but fishing for them is the only method used here to capture them. They will be motion less near the surface, their great heads stick ing out of tbe water like the end of a big stick. If a fly or bug goes into the water, down goes tbe turtle, and in an instant it has a luscious morsel. An earthworm is a desirable feast for a turtle, and these are generally used for bait The tackle is very primitive, and consists of a strong line and a codfish hook. Bait the book with a large bunch of worms, and throw in where the turtle was last seen, or, if its head is out of water, throw tbe bait directly in front of it The bite is very easy, and wbeu a short pull on the line communicates the fact to the angler that a turtle is at the other end, be must act carefully aud quickly. A sharp jerk will generally fasten the hook into the horny mouth, and then the fun begins, especially i. the turtle is a 40-pounder. The chances are greatly in favor of the turtle if a novice is at one end of the line, and an expert fares but little better if the turtle happens to take the bait near tbe bot tom. The great secret in the landine of the game is to keep it from the bottom. As soon as the turtle finds itself hooked it makes for the so t mud on tbe bottom, and is as sale there as a covey of birds which takes to tbe swamp for protection when pur sued by the hunter. The novice will invariably try to land bis first turtle by pulling in the line hand over band. By tbe time ten feet of the line is in there is a strong pull as ir a snag had been struck, and it generally proves to be a snag. The turtle sinks int the mud, and it is al most impossible to move it The only way to land tbe game is to take the line over your shoulder as soon as you leel the strike, and run. as fast as possible. As long as the turtle is kept in the water and on the jump you are sure of the game. As soon as it is landed it is killed by shoot ing it In the bead. STOEIES OF FEBFTJMES. In One Case It Cnn.ed a Divorce, and in Another Suicide. Brooklyn Eagle. Nothing is more powerful to evoke re membrances than perfumes. A doctor cites the following striking example: A rich man, rather nervous and delicate, had been married for about a-year and loved his wife most devotedly, when she, by chance, took to using ylang.ylang. This periume hap pened to. be the one which a former lady love had constantly used, and the com parison of the two women provoked by tbe similarity ol scent caused the man to re member the virtues of tbe absent one and the defects of the present one so vividly that an estrangement ensued, which terminated in a divorce. Another story had a more tragic end. The poar man who is the hep of it was affected with too much wealth, and, there fore, had too much leisure to think. He was also a victim to the nineteenth century disease, haying too highly strung nerves, aud, besides,' bad the great misfortune to lose a wile whom he loved most ondly. His anxious friends were somewhat reassured when his grief seemed somewhat abated alter tbe first six months of weeping and mourning. But one line morning they learned he bad cemmitted suicide, after leaving the following lines on bis destc: "I hoped tn be able to snrvive my sorrow, but in looking over some of her laces I found a fl.isk of her favorite perfume. When I tried to open it It fell, broke, and the periume spilled over the carpet, soon so filled tbe bouse with the odor that I grew crazy with the idea that she was near me and calling me to her, and I must, must an swer the call." ELECTBICITY AND IKTUtfS. How aa Asent In tbe North Protected Hli Jni of Kentucky Goods. Brooklyn Eagle. Away up in tbe North one time I was sit ting on the veranda of an Indian agent's house, talking with the agent himself, when I suddenly caught sight ot a dusky face peeping slyly out of the storeroom window. I was going to give the alarm, but the agent made me a sign to keep quiet and I subsided and watched. By wn?gling along the ground like a snake an Indian had passed in front of us, concealed by the the veranda platform, and had gained the side of the house, got in a window and was now entrnged In stalking a demijohn ot fine old whisky which stood in plain sight only a few teet away from us. He proposed to get that demijohn and gulp down a quart of the fire water the moment our heads were turned. Meanwhile he was lying low, with his eye on ns. The acent called my attention to the boat on tbe river. I looked at it. As I did there rose Irom tbe storeroom a vollev ol sharp yells. Turning my head once moral saw the noble savage dancing frantically about with the demijohn in his hands. 'His contortions were a caution to Carmencita and the Nnutch girls, and his voci eratioos would have thrilled au Italian prima donna with envy. Looking at the agent Isaw bim engaged iu turning the crank of an electrical machine. When tbe entertainment bad lasted long enough be desisted, and the Indian shot out of the storeroom window and fled across the prairie. Jut a puffbfJrown dust Wsing out ol sight like a shooting star. Tjiatwas all we saw of bim. Evidently he had re ceived a surprise for once in bis life, and was not so reserved as usual in- letting the fact appear. Alter Hlra Every Day. Boston Hsrtld. Lady ( pityingly to tramp) Poor Kin, suppose these dog dags go pretty hard with von? S 'Tramp' Not these days alone, Badass. aTHr uj u uinc ubt una i 6L0ET OR DOLLARS? Success Often .Wears Failure's Mask and Often .Failure Wins. EFFORT MARKED DOWN is LUCK While Pickle Fortune's Frown Is Consid ered Discreditable. A GLIMPSE OP LIFE'S DAEKES SIDE. twarrrsx fob Tin pispatch. i Some of us who remembered bis existence were recently rejoiced to learu that a former Pittsburger had "struck a streak of luck at last." It was good luck, and consequently good news; for if ever a man needed good luck, he did. Bad luck he bad in excess of all need or desire. He was never in any sense a conspicuous man; tbe community at large took no note of him; so the community at large knew nothing whatever about the ups and downs of his career. But there were those who had interest in him, and these knew that the "ups" in his experience had been such rare events that be coutfl tell them off on the fingers of one hand; while the "downs" were so frequent that his iriends always looked for him in tbe bottom of the furrow. And they generally found him there. Somehow he was perpetually under tbe har row. The barrow was not good to bim; but rolled him oyer and over without mercy, bruising and scratching him so that his sore places could not be counted. Some men have command Of fate. Notthisman. Fate had command of him, apparently, and ruled him pitilessly. Heleat became a habit with him; and tbe habit of defeat is a bad habit to lall into, making defeat so much easier next time. As nothing succeeds like suc cess, so nothing fails like failure. Bepested disister makes the victim's kindest teiends cruel. They help the next disaster forward by expecting it lor bim. Tbey withhold the stimulus and inspiration of their confidence. That is a privation they do not suspect The ngnter needs to expect victory; next to that he needs to have victory expected by others. It is a bitter struggle when neither of these conditions exists. Soeeen at liasr. But at last this man of failure has become, in bis small wey, a man of success. It is only a small way. Tbe great publie will know as little of bis success as it knew of bis failure. But the success means as much to him as the greater triumphs of greater men mean to them. It is his conquest of adversity, the achievement to wbich be bad givtn his life. Tberelore it is symbolical. Perhaps this change in the order of bis experience occupies this man's mind so fullv that he does not notice how his friends speak of it Perhaps, ou the other hand, he does notice it, and inwardly protests against the injus tice of it. Certainly he has right to make such protest He has "strucK a streak ofluck'his friends say. They do not say that he has conquered difficulties, overcome obstacles, fought his way onward against discourage ments wbich would have driven another man to nerveless despair. That is what he has done; and luck is given the credit of it Mark the contrast In these other times, when misfortune bad him at its mercy; when hope turned her back on him; when success aud he were utter strangers then there was no talk o' luck. He himself was held accountable for all that "there was a screw loose somewhere in him; "there was something wrong in his make-up;" '"he did not know how to manage. Nobody said then that he had "struck a streak o luck" such luck as chills the lite in a man's heart and makes his fi-;ht with circum stances a campaign of heroism. 4 Not Exactly Jmr. Now, why should a man be held responsi ble ior bis failures and be denied credit for bis achievements? In tbe case of a real, genuine He struggle like this the award should be the other way, if there is to be any sucb distinction. In such a case if there is any luck at ali it ii a thousand times more apt to be bad luck tban good lnck. All the force of nature and circumstance and what we call chance seem arrayed against the man who has to fight He does not happen upon success; he wins it; he conquers it; he takes it captive with a strong hand. And then his friends say he has "struck a streak oi luck." To that extent his success does not suc ceed. It fails to command a recognition where it sureiy ought to be recognized. Here is a man who set ior himself an object to be gained. To the gaining of it be ust all bis strength and all bis energy. He strove lor it without ceasing, and with resolute, intelli gent and unfaltering purpose. He wxsolteu overthrown, and from every fall he studied the lesson now to prevent another snch. His final triumph was tbe blossom and result ot all the efforts that had seemed lailures. Surely that deserves something better than to be called "look." And wbat is success, that we may recog nize it and do justice to the man who gains it? In deciding that there is more need tor discrimination tban we might suppose, we must discriminate between theiactoi snecess and the rewards oi success. Instead ol dis crimination there Is apt to be much coo lusinn here. The possession ot tbe prize is held to stand ior all tbe rest It does not Men bold the visible rewards who have tailed most dismally. Other men are denied the reward who have succeeded grandly. Milton's Bevrnrd. John Milton had rather more tban fair success as a poet, but of the rewards his portion was meager indeed. His mighty fame? That can hardly be called a reward; it is simply the acknowledgement o bis success. There have been a hundred feeble pipers since, who could not even succeed in blowing one note from his trumpet, but whose lailures have brought tbem a thous and times the reward that his success brought bim. Now and then tbe man who has won the medal receives it; quite as frequently tbe man who has von the medal never sees it; very often tbe medal shines on the breast of one not worthy even to touch the ribbon it hangs by. The cross of the Legion may dec orate a coward; and a hero may go with out it. Has the coward succeeded, then? And has the hero failed? Not so. Success and failure are facts ol deeper significance tban that. They mean other things than the dis tribution o prizes. But tbey should mean that alto. Desert aud reward should go to gether as cause and effect The man who wins should bare bis winnings without de fault Whi'e he who lails may wear the medal of success, he who succeeds may well ask it success is not a failure. There is a loolish half-idea prevailing tbat the earnest, high-minded worker should be satisfied with the blessed inner con sciousness tbat he has succeeded. He should be content with the triumph of the abstract principle he has striven for. To take thoueht ol the vitible and material rewards ol this world cheapens and debases the dignity of his effort Doesn't Prevent Siarvalloa. Tbe visible and material rewards of this world are what a man lives on wbile he con tinues in tbis world. The blessed inner consciousness be is sure to have it he has done good work, aud done it aitnfully. But be cannot support bisfamilyiu a satislac tory way upon bles-ed inner consciousness. .He needs the other kind ot reward, also; and he should have it, It belongs to him. He bas earned it, and every man owns wbat be has earned. To keep it from his is rob bery; and to bestow it upon another is to make that other a receiver of stolen goods. Not lone since I read a Brave and very re- L preach ul article about an artist of sotne- miag mure wau utiuuai ismc a.uis uuit la ft worker with a high Ideal, whiah he has faithfully and success'ully endeavored ta embody in his work. He is acknowledged and applauded by the thinking few as a prophet and apostle of artistic truth. But, like some other proobets and apostles, be was notable to make a very abundant li vine? by bis Iolty labors. He bad the blessed inner consciousness of success; but the visible and material rewards of snecess went some wLere else. He needed them, but they were not at bis disposal. So he did a dreadfal thing. He designed and executed some pictures for an advertising firm wbich had something to sell. The pictures were good pictures, embodying iu a small way all the high artistic principles ot this man's artistio code; and he got better pay for them prob ably tban be bad got or all his other work put together. But therein lay bis offense according to the critic whose" reproaches I read. Tbe artist had cheapened his art He had degraded his hizb mission. Providence bad intrnted bim with tbe work of teaching to the world a lofty lesson, and be had made bis great talent a matter of vulgar mex chandise. The Siern Necessities. Well, why did the artist make a trade of his art? Simply because he had not ob tained tbe due reward for bis legitimate suc cess. He was entitled to that as part of his wages for being a prophet and an apostle. If it had been forthcoming tbe advertising firm might have sued to him in vain. But the plaintive critic moans, he should have sacrificed himself to his art and to tbe wel fare of the world. The world was entitled to bis highest effort in its behalf. Is the world a mendicant then, to take the best that a man has and not pay him lor it? It gave this man fame; but that was only ths acknowledgment of its debt to bim. So long as it did not pay that debttbe success ol that eminent artist was a failure. Perhaps there is little profit in dwelling on all this. Perhaps, on the other hand, there may be a good deal of profit in it Perhaps the time is never wasted which ire give to thinking over a wrong state of thinsrs which may be righted. In that way reiorm begins. And common honesty will bear a great deal of thinning upon. This particular branch ot the snbject has much to do with the least as well as the greatest of us. It is a small matter, perhaps; a matter remote from all our interests, that an artist of genius could not get proper pay for bis proper work, and so did interior work wbich he could get pay for. But it is a different . affair when some of its results are consid ered. It is a still smaller matter that the humble Pittsburgerlspoke of at first should be denied the manly award of just com mendation when he has triumphed after a life of bitter struggle. But that also has its logical relations which make it an affair of some importance to all of us. Worthy of Thought. Human nature has its weaknesses; and among these is a full appreciation of the prizes which belong of right to successful effort Iu the minds of many men the prizes are the main thing; in the minds of all men they are well worth considering. Those who are content to work through life with only tbe consciousness of well-doing; for reward are few indeed. Those who would work faithfully lor that reward added to the more substantial prize? are very many. It is a pity that all of these should not be able to see just what they would like to see and ought to see when tbey look into tbe future; but some of tbem are not satisfied with the outlook. In one direction they see an eminent man of genius, who put the best o his genins into work which did not bring bim quite enough bread to eat la another they see an obscure man who put all tbe energy of bis life into a struggle against adversity, and when be bad won tbe fight did not get a word of credit for it Else where tbey see men who have succeeded in living upright lives of honest hard work, without a dollar to show for it And still elsewhere tbey see men and plenty oi them who have a large share ol the prizes in re turn for the sligh'est possible amount of hard and earnest work. These are not wholesome things to lee. Now and then a man who ves tbem decides that success is a failure. The prize is wbat he wants. The hard work of success mar not win it for him; and .he stands jost as good a chance to get it without tbe work, he believes. So he will try for It the easiest ' way. Theresults of this rather frequent deter mination are oi some moment to the most thoughtless among us. Without tbem there would not be so many people in the peni tentiaries, or so many more outside oi them who ought to be in. James C. Pxtbdt. BOLTERS NOT OUTCASTS. DXesars. HIaeock, Orprw and Raid ! eluded Among the Kickers. Harper's Weekly .1 The sharp denunciation which is directed at Senator Plumb and Mr. Halstead, and other Bepublican dissenters from the strict letter O' the tariff and election bills reminds the Herald and other observers ol tbe lact wbich Colonel Htgginson used tn remark in in 1834, that bolters, ii they repent, are readily forgiven. In this State Mr. His cock, Mr. Sepew and Mr. Beid are among the most eminent and honored Republicans. They are also among the most severely orthodox. But tbey all resolutely opposed the Bepublican Presideutal candidate in 1872. Mr. Depew was the unanimous choice of the New York Republic in delegation in the convention of 1888' for President Tet ia 1872 he was the candidate for Lieutenant Governor on the Democratic ticket Mr. Fvarts is a Senator of New York in full Be publican communion, but he was Andrew Johnson's Attorney General, and he agreed with tbe Democrats in condemning General Sheridan's course in Louisiana. There are many other conspicuous and ardent Bepub lican leaders of to-day who have bolted the pirtv candidates, and have even voted for Mr. Tilden and other Democrats. Tbeir par ty defection for the time was absolute. It was very much more definite and complete than Mr. Plumb's. Mr. Plumb has voted for smaller duties on crockery, and he bas expressed the hope that the people of the United States may have a chance. But he has not voted against tbe tariff bill, and even if be should vote aeainst it his oflenia would still tall far short of the ofE-nses of those who are now wearing party crowns and sitting noon party thrones. There was a New Yorker in the last cen tury, a party man, and one of the noblest political figures and most illustrious publie servants in our history, who said "adher ence to party has its limits, and they are marked and prescribed by tbat supreme wisdom which bas united and associated true policy with rectitude and honor and self-respect" These are tbe words of John Jay, who practiced what be preached. PHYSICAL P0WB. Tests Which Show the Comparative StrsBgOt"- f Men and Women. - it,j"-' In Paris a well-known anthropologist has ' recently carried out a series of experiments, ts by means of a specially devised instrument " 1 which go to show clearly the average com- parative strengths oi the two sexes o. humanity. Oa this (tength-testing -iiifimmml the oalm of the hand baud is placed, and then tbe greatest down-' wara pressure nun.u .uo umviuuni ua give is exercised upon it, ana tne orce thus, produced is recorded by the usual clock-,, work device. - I Fifty robut men, and the same number, of healthy women, both belonging to the miildle class in societr. with ages varvin? from 25 to 45 years, were tested in this way l J. by the Prris scientist, with tbe ollowing re- suits: Ibe strongest man Of the company L was able to produce with his right hand ft "Sfc pressure equivalent to 83 kilogrammes fa - ..A lm .(.V.. t I. JO tril . .n.ma- .l.a 5 average being 56 kilogrammes. One curious iJ. result was arrived at the short men were) all very nearly as strong as the tall men, the average difference between equal groups oftl. tbe two sizes being only three kilogramme, -t, Tbe 'ores of the strongest women of ths 59 '-"-? who were selected amounted only to 44 kilo-v grammes, and tbat of the weakest to 16 kite! grammes, while the avenge was 33 kiltWl graasasi. i 'J w JS5- VH iS Uv1 .&. r4 , 'SSSSBSSJSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSIJlJSSSXSBeSSV-Vl-lUIIIIII ax,,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers