fjKHffrafi RF5PSF3 TFJ 'JW? .V JvSjy ?? TfT. f THE PITTSBURG- DISPATCH, SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 1891. 15 BESS AT DOM 11 Wakeman Searches Out the Old Gam shackle Made Famoas in Dick ens' Kicholas Kickleby. GUARDED BY SQUEERS'SOK-IK-LAW It Still Stands an Ignominious Eeminder of the Dajs of School Torture in Old England. P1CTDEE OF THE TILLAGE OF BOWES. Til e.-irmri !a Wlbl lie Bene cf til Hiri Old Kuttr aai Ds Tina? Lis. lCOREisroxPEXcx or thx msrxTCB.1 Yobk, Eng., Jan. 16. Probably the greatest immediate and lasting good ever done any nation by a single work of fiction was effected by tbe "Nicholas Nickleny" of Charles Dickens. During the early part of the present century the private schools, and particularly the boys' schools of England, with a few notable exceptions like that of Busby, were the most infamous in the world. If there can be superiority in infamy, Yorkshire stood first and best. DicLens himself said of its private schoolmasters: "Traders in the avarice, indifference or imbecility ol parents, and the helplessness of children; Ignorant, sordid, brutal men, to wnom few considerate persons would have entrusted the board and lodging of s horse or a dog; they formed the worthy cornerstone of a structure which, for absurdity and a mag nificent high-minded laissez-aller neglect, has rarely been exceeded in the world." How Ho Came to 'Write It How Dickens' grand and humane renins came to espouse the cause of the hosts of helpless and outraged children in England Is a pleasing reminiscence of his magnifi cent literary career. The English-speaking world was still in raptures over his first suc ces under the nom-de-plume of "Boz." His publishers, Chapman & Hall, of London, had immediately engaged another work from his pen to appear in parts. Its plan and scope were still subjects for discussion, and, under the burdens and impositions of the young author's new relation to men and tilings, a grievous and desperate anxiety to Dickens binisell. In this coudition of un rest and perturuation, thtre floated into his mind a misty rehabilitation of his own vague childish fancies regarding Yorkshire schools. He tells ot these in his own in imitable wav in the last preface written by him for "Nicholas kickleby." He says: Icarnot call to ruind. now. how I came to 1; ear about Yorkshire schools when 1 was a not vprv lobust child sitting in by-plices near Rochester Caule. witu a head fullot Partridge, htrap. Tim Pipe and Sancho Fanza; but I Lnou that my tirst impressions of them were pickid up at that tune, and that they were somehow or other connected with asuppurated absrtess that some bov had come home with, in consequence of bis Yorkshire guide, philoso pher and friend having ripped it open with an Inky penknifit The Search for Facts. Here was an opportunity for a great and merciful motive in fiction. "With a boon companion, Hablot Browne, Dickens left London a few weeks before Christmas of 1837. The two made a thorough pilgrimage of Yorkshire on the old postcbaise routes, gathering, under all manner of pretenses, every possible fact bearing on the accursed system; consulting files of old newspapers In York and neighboring cities for records o damage suits brought against proprietors of these schools for cruelty; wheedling his way into tins obscure den and lorciug his way into that one; and, at last, in tbe re motest and most dreary portion o Northern Yorkshire, coming upon a nest of the dread- J lul places at and near the then thriving village of Bowes. Here Dickens remained for a time. He had letters to a yeoman of the place, soon to shine as one of tbe immortals of fiction as honest "John Browdie." He represented himself as agent of a poor widow desirous of placing her only boy in a quiet country school. In this way he secuied admission to a number in the vicinity, though shutout of some bv the wary masters. The "school" seeming most suitable as a prototype of them all, from the personnel of its savage owner and his family, with wild and deso late phjsical surrounding; in keeping with tbe hopelessness ot the school-life of the place itself, was the Dotheboys Hall, still standing in Bowes, where "Nicholas Nickleby," his p-otege in misery the wretched "Sraike," and scores of other help less young lives, are depicted as undergoing an almost inconceivable lite of servitude, starvation and cruelty. Didn't Tell the Reality. Investigations showed that ,the horrible picture drawn was not an exaggeration, aLd bore out Dickens' own statementiu the orig inal preface that "Mr. Squeers and his school are taint and leeble pictures of an existing realitv, purposely subdued and kept down lest they should be deemed im possible." This, Dickens' second, and In some respect his greatest novel, was begun in April, 1823, and finished in October, 1830. At tlie appearance of the first part he ran aw3y from London, as he always did, to remain in hiding until a distinct measure of public avor or disfavor was shown. In the rae of "Nicholas Nickleby" his lorgivable skulking was of short duration. The first d-y's sale of the first part exceeded 50,000 copies. Not six mouths had passed before the torture and cruelty to helpless scholars in these remote prison pens were abated, and before the last chapter of "Nicholas Nick leby"' had been read, public feeling, which in many portions of the country barely es caped expression in not, had annihilated every child-hell of the Dotheboys Hall va riety in England. Famous and infamous as Dickens made Bowes, cw in England had ever before heard of the village. To ths millions who learned Bowes every object in it, its sur roundings, and every room in Dotheboys Hall, by heart it was a purely fictional town. I asked over 500 intelligent people In England where Bowes was, and never fomnl an individual who knew until I came to Kirkbv Stephen, m the moorland wilds of Northeastern Westmoreland, 16 miles away. Dead in Its Shell. Even in that town nobody seemed to know, until I found a rustic antiquarian who had at one time discovered an old Bomau coin at Bowes, and who, after a hard struggle, remembered where it lay, over bevoud wild old Stanemoor Mountain, "dead in Us shell I" as he put it, in ending an adjuration not to cross Stanemoor that day, uuless willing to risk being blown from the road intotbe rock beds o its passes, or worse, meeting the howling, ferocious, war lock hags, which, during every wild moun tain Etorm, waylay Mated travelers at the lonely site of Eere Cross. But the pilgrim age was to rescue Irom oblivion the actual site of a national infamy, and fix in the real geography ot literature "the location and en virons oi a spot, dim. fleeting and phantom like in the uimds of millions in the Old WrM and the New. No two stout American legs could shrink from this, even though the wind fairlv shrieked iu its mad way from Solway Firth to the German Ocean, pounding the sides of "Westmoreland moors and fell! with mighty balls of fog which slid and noocheted over Langdale Pell and Brownber Edje to re bound against the sides of the loftier Stane moor heights, and finally be hurled over the mountain upon dreary, dead Bowes, as if to crush every remaining sliver of iti meager old shell. A Bold the Bomui Trod. Ifyou came from London to Bowes oyer the same coach road as did Nicholas Nicfcle by.fwhen, nearing the end of his dreary journey, "at about 6 o'clock that night he and Mr. Squeers and the little boys and their united luggage were put downat the George and New Inn," you would have come by the old coach road from London to Edinburgh and Glasgow. On leaving tbe ancient city of York you would have struck a highway 2,000 years old. Masses of So man legions have swepttide on tide, back and forth over the same stone road. A.way in the north of Yorkshire one stem of this highway goes on through Durham to Edinburgh. The other swings around to the westward. On this western stem, between the rivers Tees and Greta, at the eastern edge of Stanemoor. nearly sur rounded by desolate moors, and in tbe north west corner of Yorkshire, lies what is left of Bowes. Thanks to the Bomans who bad built that road, it was broad, sure and as eternal as Stanemoor itself. Whipped, pounded and beaten along by,the stormy winds for what seemed hour, my feet suddenly struck cob blestones. Bowes at last! No human being ever loved so much to be id Bowes before. But where was the place, after all? A Bulldog as a Guide. N- Not a candle or lamplight gleamed from window within it. Here- add there along the zig-zag street a faint glimmer flushed against some tiny panes. Peering within, old and palsied crones, bent and trembling, were here and there seen crouching over flickering embers of meager fires. Drenched irom rotten thatches, startled by the storm lashed trees, and now thoroughly frightened with the prospect of no resting-place for the night, I felt my way along what seemed to be tbe street facade of some large structure, and, coming to its corner, shrunk along this, where I halted for a little, well out of the full power ot the tempest. Scarcely had sufficient time elapsed to permit my getting my back against the building before there was a startling, splat tering rush. The calves of my legs escaped the fury of the object making it, but with a return rush the ample tails of my storm coat were gathered in a sort of Voiceless vise which only death or a master's com mand can loosen. Few were the snuffles and snortings caused by tbe workintr ol the four-legged mechanism. Its forces were exclusively devoted -to effort. That effort was certainly one at bringing a prize into port. Yielding without protest to the spirit of the occasion, I moved with its move ments, tacked with its tickings. In a zig zag attitude of gentle though unexpressive inquiry, I was brought into a little room not ten feet square, where, beueath rows of copper measures, and behind a black old mahogany bar nearly as high as his head, a grinning, frowsy, puff-faced publican was looking benignly down upon a half dozen gigantic Yorkshire plougbboys. These, already well befuddled with liquor, and pounding tl!e deal table with their mugs, were roaring out a song about York," York for my raonle; Of all tbe places 1 ever did see. This is the best for good corapanie, Except tbe city ot Lunnunl A. Boom Dickens Occupied. They roared louder still when I stood be fore them in charge of a magnificent bull dog. The frowsy Boniface quietly reached lor a kuj.e club. This he brought down with a crash upon the table, enforcing silence in that quarter; and then, thanking his dog for his oddly-secured guest with a cruel thump, which released me, he led the wav through labyrinths of cobwebbed arched hallways and huge deserted rooms to a wretched apartment, and, pointing to a bed scarcely better than a pile of rags, look his departure. This was tbe once famous George, now the Unicorn, Inn. Eight coaches bound to Lon don or Glasgow daily changed horses here in the good old coaching units. Dickens and Browne had occupied this very room, once a cheerlul parlorcbamber. The night, with untold furies of an awful storm shriek ing about the grewsome old place, with win dows rattling like crazy castanets, doors of hallways and cupboards opeuiug as if flung into the room by unseen hands, and the very floor boards restless and disquiet, as though struggling with ugly gnomes below, seemed to unite all the hateful and evil spirits of the dead past in protest at disturbance by lue and health aud inquiry. Nature Trying to Baiy It. When I awoke the sup wasshining upon dead old Bowes. There is a silent bel tower on the roof of the "Unicorn. I climbed to this. There lay the sinuous shell of thu ancient village a winding, cobbled, grass grown street of half a mileia length, flanked by ruined houses, half of whose thatched roof: bad fallen in. From their dank and rot, grass, weeds -and even flowers were luxuriantly springing; as though nature, seeking to hide the spot, had bidden the winds and birds seed it for fitting disguise. That huge, lone, stone structure, the first at Bowes from the Greta Bridge way, weird and ghostly under huge sycamores, was once another Dotheboys. Bichard Cobden once onneditand made it his home. Then the Unicorn, with acres of outbuildings, empty and moss-grown. Opposite, another silent inn, the Hose and Crown. Then, facing westward, a. little Norm-in church. Near it, the ruins ol a Norman castle. Behind these ruins, the ancient Boman station of Savatrae, where are remains of baths and an aqueduct. Then, rooted and unroofed hovel on either side to tbe westward, where you will still see, just is Dickens aud his Nich olas Nickleby saw, "a long, cold-looking house, one story high, with a few straggling outbuildings behind, and a barn andstable adjoining." Who the Squeers Were. That structure just as it stands to-day, was the abode or a real Squeers in the flesh, of a Mrs. Squeers, of Fanny Squeers and of a Master Wackford Squeers. All the differ ence was in tbe name. This was Shaw. They nossessed the same ignorance, avarice, venality, brutality. The old wretch of a master was ruined by the exposure. Inves tigation aud damage suits stripped him of all, or rather made him to the end of his dajs an imbecile servitor to the man, Bons field, who married his daughter, Mary Ann Shaw (Fanny Squeers), and who, now over 80 years of age, savagely prevents your en trance to the place with club aud dog. If yon come to Dotheboys Hall, you will have to content yourself with an exterior view of the ramshackle old structure, and a peep from over the hedge, behind tbe barn, at the indentical pump, around which the half-frozen boys gathered for the ablutions on winter mornings. Bousfield's wife, the last of the Squeers family, died six years since. The graves ot all may be seen in the little church yard. Near all dread and noxious things the divine compensation leaves something ten der, sweet and good. Cloe beide tbe ex ecrated graves is, a tablet erected to the memorv of the two who drcd for loyal love. Itoger Wrightston and Martha Bailton, they were in life. In immortality they are tbe Edwin and Emma of Mallet's, pathetic bal lad; and rustic Yorkshire lovers still findin spiration to endless fidelity beside these graves in the little chnrch vard of dead old Bowes. Edgar L." Wakesiax. A PEESENT FIHDS ITS OWKEB. A Romantic Story of a Christmas Giffs Journey Fram Canada. Nashville American. Among the thousands of Christmas gifts received and passing through the Nashville postoffice all have found their owners. The last was found yesterday. It was a beauti ful necktie sachet made by a young lady in Hamilton, Ontario, and sent to a dental student in this city. It contained no" ad dress whatever or other marks of identifica tion, except two Canadian stamps. Tbe post office had tbe matter noticed in the papers and several persons called, prenmlng.the pres ent was for them. Under direction of the postmaster the parties wrote to their friends' in Canada, and finally the young dental student received a letter which satisfied tbe postoffice authorities that he was the party for whom tbe handsome present was in tended. How a package, bearing no address what ever, could have found its way to Nashville from to distant point as Ontario is a mys tery, and that Nashville should bare been tbe proper destination and the package should have eventually fallen into the hands of its owner, is not only a strange coincident bnt also a flattering commentary bn-the per fection of the American postal system. A PAUPER MONARCH. Extraordinary Eomance of a Self Hade King Jnst Dead in Faris. HIS REAM WAS IN PATAGONIA. 1 Career That Explains tbe Titles of Some Shady Characters. HIS PAEIS EMBASSY BUILT ON WIND rcoxsxsroxsxxcx or toe sisfatcb. London, Jan. 16. "King of the far, far South am If He cried, and they laughed in scorn, "Yes! King of the lands ot the Indian tribes That stretch to the Cape of Horn-" MID the bustle of the great wilder n ess of London even the presence of a king may sometimes be un known to the vast majority of tbe busy millions who swarm here like ants in an ant-bill or like bees in a hive. The death J quite recently of a man in the poor obscurity of a Paris hospital ward ne glected and un known, who yet at one period held a court in London conferring titles upon obscure in dividuals with all the lavish prodi gality of Le Grand Monarque himself, affords a striking proof of this fact. The Commendatore. n(j Tet the career of this monarch for he claimed a regal dignity, and to exercise authority over vast territories of the South American continent forms a veritable romance, unknown even to the deepest students of the histories of dynasties and of royal nouses. The Strange Man's Title. How many persons either in the Old World or the New, have heard of His Majesty "Orelie-Antoine I., by the Grace of God and the Volonte of the Indians of the Extreme South of the Continent of America, King of Araucania and Pata gonia?" This was the title of one of the most extraordinary and eccentric indi viduals who ever figured on this world's stage outside the realms of opera bouffe or the interior of a madhouse. He was not an inmate oi a lunatic asylum, but. on the contrary, an individual who made some figure in public; suffered impris- onmeut; was the subject of diplomatic nego tiations; held a court, appointed ministers and bestowed titles of nobility in France and England Ions: before the scandals in connection with the sale of decorations led to the fall of President Grevy. "Orelie-Antoine I.," otherwise common place M. de Tournens, whose history reads like a pace from "Gulliver's Travels," or those of the equal veracious "Baion Mun chausen," first saw theJight in tbe town of Perigueux, in France. His parents and relations in their wildest dreams never pictured him as a future royal personage. and his early life was of the usual bour-j geois order until he in process of time set tled down to the unpromising occupation of a public notary at Nantes. He Was Born for Greatness. However, M. de Tournens had a studious turn and a soul above quill pens and parch-, ments. tie believed mat glory awaited him somewhere. He sought it not at the cannon's mouth, but beneath the Southern Cross by taking a voyage to Buenos Ayres. On arrival at the capital of the Argentine Bepublic he, singularly enough, met with another Frenchman who seemed to be on the same errand as himself, for he induced our hero tn join him in u sort of exploring and hunting expedition further South. They landed below the southern frontier of the Argentine and, true to his bourgeois instincts, M. de Tournens began to trade with the aborigines. The Indians had at the time some diffi culty in deciding as to the section of the Territory over which their wild nomad sway really extended. They claimed that Pata gonia and Araucania were their property, but while no one disputed the ownership of the former sterile region, both the Chileans and Argentines wanted to possess the fertile Araucania with its wealth ot bleating flocks and lowing kine. M. de Tournens had a solution of the difficulty as bold as the means adopted by Alexander the Great to open the famous "Gordian Knot" Tournens' Novel Solution. His project lor settling the difficulty was to attempt to be or rather to proclaim him selfKing of this vast region without being asked by anyone. It was rather a. luckless thing for the new monarch that the Chileans had not at tbe time as much work upon their hands as Usual. They were neither at war with their neighbors nor trying to float loans in Europe. The consequence was that the moment the President of Chile heard, in some mysterious way, of tha "fad" which had taken possession of the notary, he with scant ceremony seized him, and ordered him to be immured in.au old fortress, despite the prisoner's threats and protests of what "his friend, Napoleon IU." would do for him. According to.M. de Tournens, the Em peror would, upon his simple request, lend him not only an army, but throw in a fleet or two into the bargain. The Chilean Presi dent did not pay much attention to these terrible menaces, bnt promptly proceeded to forget all about the kinglv personage whom he left languishing behind the prison bolts and b'irs tor six years. Naturally, the ambitious prisoner had a more retentive memory than his jiilers, so he appealed to his iriend, "Napoleon le Petit," as Victor Hugo bitterly dubbed him in one of his novels. The Emperor, however, at that time had his hands quite full or his schemes for military glory in Mexico, and bad neither the time nor the Inclination to bother with either the notary or his king dom. , The Unexpected Happened. A glance at the map of Bouth America will show our readers the extent-of territory the modest Frenchman wanted to rule by a coup de plume. The French have a saying, "Always be prepared for the unexpected," and the captive in Chile bad subsequently an unlooked-for opportunity of realizing how apt the proverb seems at times. The Mexican campaign suddenly went wrong, . A tslillcx , YmW i Til k.N. V i7l WEmfrw OriHe-ntofne. the death of Maximilian created a sensation throughout the civilized world, and last and worst of all, Hie'aTmsnf la belle France re ceived a severe check, if not an absolute re verse. The gommeux of Paris were thirst ing tor a new sensation, the sans culottes were beginning to think of red caps and barricades, and the journalists of the boule vards were writing about la glorie. Something bad to be done to divert tbe attention of the people from affairs at home. A hurried consultation was -held, and a search of some dustv pigeon holes of the Foreign Office suddenly led to a discovery. "A Frenchman a native and subject ot France was pining away in a Chilean dun geon." Instantly a tremendous noise was made, and before sunset on the succeeding day "L'nffaire Chilenne" was talked of by everybody and the Mexican fiasco had been forgotten for a new and later sensation. Found Himself Famous. The country was up in arms and the Freuch Admiral was commanded to per emptorily call upon the astonished Govern ment to instantly release a prisoner whose existence they were probably at the moment totally unaware of. The ex-Notary awoke one morning astonished, like the poet Byron, to find himself famous.1 He 'was now a per sonageof imperial importance, and was commanded' to return to France to report upon bis "mission" (it had been conveni ently discovered that he had been sent there by tbe French Government). The eagles of France were about to swoop down upon Chile and the tri-color was to proudly wave over the fertile plains of.Araucania. The Argentines were to be kept within their borders, and Notary de Tournens was to add to the somewhat vague "volonte of the In diaus" the more substantial regis of a French protectorate. However, while De Tournens was on his way home the Franco-German war had burst upon Europe, and culminated in the crushing disaster at Sedan, where Napoleon IIL handed up his sword to the bated "Prussian," and with it went bis throne. These disasters dashed to the ground the hopes of the would-be King of Araucania and Patagonia, and France, instead ot an nexing territory in South America, found herselt minus her "chers provinces," Alsace and Lorraine. The King and Bis Talet. From this period forward the career of De Tournens entered entirely into the regions ot broad farce. He never for a moment lost his unbounded confidence in himself. "Orelie-Antonie L," as he in sisted upon styling himself, became simply a convenient tool lor a gang of Paris "bunko steerers," gutter financiers and declasse continental nobles real and bogus to work various shady schemes aud confidence games with. The leader of tnese worthys was a gaunt, oily individual, half Spanish, half Italian, but wholly scoundrel, with in sinuating manners hut indescribably filthy habits and person. When he was not iu jail he made a precarious livelihood by sell ing to ambitious parvenus patents of nobil ity, decorations insignia and generally prayinz on the weaknesses and vanities of bis fellow creatures. He had an alias for every week In the ' year, and an exhaustive string of titles which in cluded tbe high-sounding one of Duke of Eosenburg and "member of varions scientific and learned societies of Smyrna." A Marvelous Cabinet. He appointed himself to the office of Chancellor, and for some inexplicable rea son he combined with this high office that of "Commendatore." A suitable Minister of Finance for the imaginary kingdom was found in a Portuguese-Brazilian financial agent, who, having just been released from a long term of imprisonment, was glad to become Secretary to the Treasury lor Orelie Antoine. The Minister' -of Justice was a short, fat aud it may be added dirty lit tle creature, who bad been ejected from a notary's office for embezzlement, and subse quently became a waiter ai a low cafe. Toe other positions in this nmque "Cabinet" were filled by individuals molded much after the same pattern. The "Commendatore" was a man of re source, so he set to work to draw up a most iciposinc-looking document, with the fol lowing beading under an imposing coat of arms: ORELIE-ANTOINE X. ' far la Qrace de Steu et ta volonte des tlndlem de V Extreme Sud du Continent Amti icain. BOI Il'ABAUCASIE & DE FATAGONIE. JL Cous, pretenti Sc a Venir, Salutt Manufactured a I.ot of Nobles. Having formed his Cabinet, the monarch found that the Indians of his mythical kingdom must have an aristocracy to sup port bis throne, and to the creation of these patricians the "Commendatore" set to work with the most praiseworthy zeal. A con venient blank was le't for the titles, so that the ambitious nouveanx riches could be created dukes, corotes, vicomtes and birons nt a scale graduated by the height up the social ladder which the buyers wished to climb. There was, of course, a large reduc tion for cash, for the "Commendatore," with true commercial instinct, was alwavs open to reason when he saw "coin down." The number of those manufactured nobles who are still strutting about continental towns is positively startling for these chevaliers d'industries fully appreciated the value of having a real document to show to the inquisitive minor officials with whom they came into con lie t. The American millionaire, who is re-idyto purchase a hus band with a title for his dauzhtcr, ought to be certain that he has the genuine "hall marked" article, and not one of these "alu minum" Patasonian nobles who are roam ing about with missions like that of the "roaring lion" of the scriptures. Fixing Up an Embassy. ' The Secretary of the Treasury, who be lieved that there was money to be made by "booming" Oreiie-Autoine', managed to get hold of a larse room on the.first floor iu a f ishionable quarter of Paris. A rich car pet manufacturer covered the floor with a superb product of his looms, and was straight off created a duke by "SaM.ijeste," as Orshe-Autoiuewas invariably styled. The introduction of the commercial element brought a few financiers to see who was at the place dubbed the "Patagonian Em bassy," where the King and his heteroge nous court assembled. The business of the evening opened with the introduction of a banker to the King who received him with all that cere monial formality and dignity which the would-be potentate never tailed to assume. Alter a desultory conversation on a variety of subjects affecting the kingdom in whose welfare Orelie-Antoine was so deeply inter ested, the meeting adjourned and the cour-. tiers an went Home in an uumDie omniDUS. End of the Strange Career. Tbe subsequent Hie of the would-be King of Patagonia, in London, was ludicrous in the extremt. The commendatore who made all the arrangements had to shift "His Majestv" almost every week into new lodg ings, for the landladies of Bayswater and Islington were not to be'caught with chaff" like barren titles, but cut the monarch adrift as soon as they loun'd his board bills getting into arrears. The deluded man moved from one squalid lodging to another, with a dignity and Calm that even Croesus in his deepest misprtuue might have envied, and at last tBings got so bad with the batch of Araucanian courtiers aud their luckless sovereign . that a French beuevolent society had to send them back to Paris to save them from starvation here. The ruiued monarch, who was apparently too good for this unappreciatlve world, vainly tried to secure an appointment as a street lamplighter from the municipal Council of the "gay capital,'" but in these degenerate days even broken down Kings are at a discount there, and the would-be monarch of Arauoanla and Patagonia ended his checkered career on an hospital bed, monrnlully exclaiming with his last breath: "Ah I What colonies France has refused." A monarch of ancient history gained a kingdom by the mere neighing of his steed, and poor Orelie-Antoine, it he failed to win r kingdom seems-to hare been a man whose philosophy and dignity in ad versity showed him to have been at least worthy of a better fate. MacLeod. , SEEING SHOWS FREE. The Mania for Deadbeadism Seen at Its Besl in New York. TRICfcs PLAYED ON THEATERS. Hanazers Distribute the Gratis Fellows to Sava the Flay. HOW DAYENPOKrB NAME WAS USED rcoEBtsronDiHCz or the DisrATcn.j New Yobe, Jan. 24. "Deadheads? You don't want a front seat for yourself and a few friends? No? Well, you ought to have anythiug the house can afford!" And the manager swuntr wide tbe box-office door. If there is anything on which a New York theatrical manager is touchy it is the sub ject of deadheads. The pressure for free ad mission to theatrical performances is usually great anywhere. In New York, where there are so many professionals, newspaper men, bill-board and litbograph window people, all of whom have more or less claims upon the courtesies of the house, it is simply tre mendous. When these are re-enforced by the hungry horde I of hangers-on whose claims are purely imaginary it Is enough' to drive tbe ocenpants of the box office insane. The iNew York managers, as a rule, are quite liberal in the "courtesy oi the house." But if even those who have legitimate claims upon them by reason of their recip rocal relations should desceud upon a single theater on the opening night, or on some other particular occasion, it would be a physical impossibility to accommodate them and leave any seats for tbe patrons who come with money in their hands. Deadhead! Take the Best. The deadhead is hot after the best theaters, the best plays and the most popular nights. He is a great play-goer and has a keen ap preciation of good acting and actors. For this reason he is on hand and most persistent where the greatest dramatic successes are being produced and where every seat that is given away is so much cash handed him from tbe Cox-office drawer. While be is thus a never-failing index of dramatic suc cess his presence never contributes to such end; for he is a severe critic aud cold-blooded withal and players are apt to wilt under his silent disapproval on first nights. For this reason he is scattered judiciously in various parts ot the house. It he should be located in a block in the orchestra or else where, his inattention, restlessness, somnol ency or getting up and going out at the end of the second act, would piralyze tbe piece. The best drilled company iu tbe world could never do justice to themselves with a lot of vacant chairs staring them iu the face through the last act. To prevent this the manager cleverly balances the house that is, he scatters the deadhead all over the house where he cannot act as an organized body. Influence of the Deadhead. And even with this arransement the dead head aud other amateur first-nighters, acting in unison, are almost enough to break up a new play. They rarely sit it out, aud their opinions are likely to be tinged with the bitterness that comes of a back seat. The professional critics and men about town have 'engagements elsewhere, and the last act sees vacant seats in all parts of the house. The rest ot the audience, for the most part comparatively verdant, not unnaturally conclude that the play is not so good as it seems, since otherwise the most intelligent portion ot the crowd would not have de serted. . The newspaper deadheads in the metropo lis form no inconsiderable part of the whole. Every now and then you will see editorial notices in certain journals to tbe effect that no deadhead tickets of any kind will be accepted by any one connected with these papers, and requesting theatrical managers andjailroad agents to notify the aforesaid journals where any attempt to secure dead head tickets is made by persons representing themselves as employed on them. This looks well on paper, but it is a notorious fact that not only the recognized dramatic critics and dramatic gossip writers must be provided for in themattcrot free seats, but other well-known journalists on these papers claim and receive theatrical courtesies, though they Tender and can render no reciprocal service whatever. Cases of Imposition. Then there are a good many roustabout reporters, sporting writers, etc, some of whom are not so well known, who "run their faces" at the door. When the editorial department has its innings nothing short of a box is usually given. Tbe out-of-town correspondent is often the greatest fraud when it comes to the journalistic class of deadheads. There are out-of-town men who devote considerable attention to dramatic news and gossip, and who keep posted on plays and players as a part of their lesit imate duties. These are mostly letter writers. Out-of-town newsmen rarely touch such matters. There is probably a far greater proportion of illegitimate deadhead ism among out-of-town correspondents than among the local fraternity irom the fact' that the managers cannot easily ascertain the standing or importance of the former as he can the latter class, and where there is a doubt the box office rather errs on the side of liberality. The most persistent ticket bezgar is the individual who represents tbe most insig nificant papers. Ot these the wome i writers are the worst and most difficult to deal with. They are not contented with an occasional admission. They want to come to the best performances again and again. They want the best seats in the house. They want those seats not only for themselves, bnt or their female friends or male escorts. They work the theaters systematically. They are never satisfied. One of the Tricks. "One of these fellows, one day," said the manager, "presented his card (on which it appeared that be represented some unknown country paper) and requested two seats. Fanny Davenport was playing. There was no reason why he should receive this courtesy and he was refused. He said . he was a great admirer of Miss Davenport and asked permission to send his card back for her autograph. Matinee performance was ou, the permission was at once given and he ment away a little later with Fanuy'b sig nature. Tnat night counting the house that fellow's card turned up from the box with 'Pass two' written above her name. It was the slickest thing I ever saw." An investigation would show a good deal of Press Club paper being used to extract favors irom theatrical managers where the individual character of the applicant is in sufficiently established to secure such lavors on his oiru name. Managers have a nat ural delicacy about filing any formal com plaints of this kind, but it is'an undoubted fact that quite a number, of feather-weight journalist! use their connection with the Press Club to obtain what is beyond their reach as an inuividual. Lithograph and bill-board deadheads are provided for on other than first nights or special perform ances. These deadheads are passed in re turn for certain v Privileges as to Advertising. Wherever you see a theatrical placard, portrait or any kind of lithograph or photo graph displayed iu a saloou orshop wmdow, be sure that the privilege is not given for nothing. Itis paid for in deadhead.tickets. The extent of this method of advertising will give a pretty good idea of the number of this class of deadheads. Fortunately for the theaters they don't all want to come at onee. Tuesday nights, however, are es pecially favored, by them. They form a curious looking crowd. The official dendhead list, comprising city officials of various departments, the police, the firemen, tha detectives, tbe man with a "pull," is a formidable one. New York has very. large official list, and her employes, high and low, get fat salaries, but tbe 1 slightest and most indirect connection with theater buildings', licenses, etc, makes a more or leu constant deadhead. She police. racket was pretty. well exposed by the Ham mentein trouble in Harlem last summer. It showed that the police officials levied a pretty heavy tribute in seats and boxes for themselves and their friends, and when tbe manager kicked they closed his house on the first technical opportunity. The Harlem episode showed a species of .blackmail that ended in generalsympathy fofthe man ager and condemnation for the precinct cap tain. Deadheads In the Profession. The professional deadhead is abundant and omnipresent fn New York. In fact, this is tbe home Qf tbe profession in America. The actor and actress' out of a job is a vision of every minute for any Broadway saunterer. In summer they can be seen in swarms by hundreds and thou sands. It is tbe waiting-br-an-engagement kind that for the most part make up tbe professional deadheads. The others are usually too. busy at their own performances to bother any other box office than their own. - The "profesh" means anybody who ever appeared in a paid organization, which is a very wide sweep. The reluctanco with which a professional parts from the theatri cal connection is evidenced by th6 persist ency with which they stick to the deadhead privilege- Some managers here re use ad mission to the profession except where the applicant for the favor at present belongs to some organization, or limit them to nights when there are plenty ol empty seats, or give them standing room. Daly doe not aumit tnem at all, unless they nay. Je says "other schools cost money. What bet ter school of the dramatic art than that afforded by my artists could these learners attend. Let them pay. It is worth any body's money. It is worth most to members ot the profession." Daly Enforces His Belief. And Mr. Daly believes what he says. He does not permit a member of his company to solicit or accept such courtesies from other houses. Doubtless he would consider their attendance elsewhere as a pernicious waste of time. Daly is rathersevere on the whole deadhead class. Tony Pastor's manager, Harry Sanderson, and Pastor himself, are kind to professionals. If the prolessionals would only confine their requests to them selves but they want to run all their rela tions and chums in free. They are olten great frauds. Managers and ticket agents, press agents aud other theatrical officials encourage this fraud often by giving out certificates of pro fessional character in tbe shape of requests on other houses to recognize all sorts of people. They run in all sorts of women on unsuspecting doormen and box officials. Press agents and others keep pocket tabs on which are printed orders lor seats, and they are not always careful how they use the privilege. They pay a good many private scores with these orders. Speaking of these orders, most of tbe New York theaters ex tend their courtesies in orders requiring ap plication at the box office the evening, of the performance iu order to get seats. This en ables the manager to get a look at the dead head and the ticket seller to balance the house. ' Giving Away Compllmentarles. The manager may personally know the deadhead, and this gives him the chance to see whether the man comes personally or whether he has given tbe seats away to other people. This latter is the meanest offense in the managerial eye. It is usually concession enough to hand over (3 to the deadhead, but when"that favored individual passes the money over to people who would otherwise pay the theater $3, it is rather tough. Yet that is what is done every day. The deadhead thinks that is all right. Mart Hanley, Harrigan's manager, says the dead head craze is on the increase in New York. "A good many men like to appear to have the run of the theaters," he say, "though they dou't mind the expense. It is the im portance it gives tbem. They will open a bottle of wine between every act rather than pay lor a seat. I remember one day when I was treasurer at tbe old theater a fellow came in and bought two seats lor $2. I shoved the tickets out, but he requested me to keep them till he called at night. When he came in that evening he bad his best girl with him. He stepped up to the box office and sung out breezily. 'Hello, old manl Can you let me have a couple ol seats?' He winked at roe and I passed out his two tick ets. 'Thanks,' said he, and proudly walked in. You see, he wanted to give her tbe im pression that he had the run of the house." Speculating In Privileges. "About the cutest thing in the deadhead line I know about," says another manager, "is that racket of a first nighter dramatic critic There was a tremendous rush for seats, and but one could be given him when he wanted two. He sold the single seat lor 510, and camethe next night and bought two for 53, having a clean balance of 57 in his clothes." Mr. E. G. Gilraore, at Niblo's, is a bitter enemy of deadheads, and the fat little cherub, Beeves, who fills up the box office, transfixes an applicant with his baby stare. Palmer requires all applications to be made by letter, and if it is favorably received, responds with a gilt-edged admission ticket. J. M. Hill is the newspaper man's friend and brother. He is very liberal to the boys and don't mind the champagne aud cracker between the acts. Barton, of the Casino, is suave aud full of theatrical anecdotes, pro fessional stories, etc. He is the godsend of the cossip writers. Barton tells a good story of a newspaper man who nrnught five ladies and presented a card bearing the names of six papers he represented, and demanded six seats, one for each paper. To the professional eye a "paper house," as tbe deadheads in bulk are styled, is at once apparent John Stetson once walked into a theater and remarked to the manager: "Good house good house pretty good house." "Thousand dollar house," replied the manager. "Indeed I" said Stetson, where is the man who has 5999 in his clothes?" People who once get into theaters free hate ever afterward to buy tickets. There is an axiom in managerial circles: "Once a dead head, always a deadheid." CUABI.ES T. MUBBAT. CABS GOHEASTBAY. TVhat Keeps an Important Ballroad Func tionary Busy. J. H. Waters, of Columbus, O., the lost car agent of tbe Columbus. Shawnee & Hocking Kailway, traveled more than 10, 000 miles during November iu search of lost cars, says the New York Journal. There was a time when some missing cars were never found, as they were repainted and claimed by other roads, but this practice has been abandoned. Mr. Waters related an interesting story of a car which be was after at intervals for over a year before it was finally recovered. During that time he saw it in Jersey City, Columbia, S. C; Atlanta, Ga.; Annistnn, Ala.; St. Lo"ui, and Dodge City. He finally got it at Detroit and sent it home. The revenue derived irom a car ou another road is three-fourths of a cent per mile, aqd the average earnings per day of this car during its travels was 18 cents. The car was worth to tbe company that owned it 515 a day. The road on which the car isrunning is supposed to keep it in good repair, but it frequently happens that when a car finally reaches home it must be furnished with new wheels bciore it can be sent out again. Mr. Waters said that when some roads get a stray ear iu the Southern trade they keep it there, regardless of where it belongs, and it.is very difficult to recover it. How to Avoid Mental Kxertion. Texas Blftlng-s. Doctor You are much improved, but you must avoid all mental exertion whatever for the next six months. . V, Patient But, doctor, I have got to do something to matte a living. Have you any acquaintance with any court officials? Yes. I know several. Well, get them to put you on the jury in the Court of General Sessions until you have recovered the use of your men til facul ties. I always recommend jury duty to my patients when they are feeble minded. TRAP FOR INVENTORS. A Parisian Academyi.lbe Object of Which Is to Pluck Them. NEW WAY OP PREVENTING FIRES. Beneficial Effects of Mixing Cheap Brown En;ar With Mortar. A PHOTOGEAPHIC STAGE ILLUSION rFBXFABID roa tbx Disra.Tru.j Inventors in this country are now being diligently plied, with circulars from the "Parisian Inventors Academy," of which it is to be boped they will at once see the true inwardness. Tbe ostensible object of the "academy" is characterized by an admirable philanthropy, and is, firstly, "To contribute to the progress of all which concerns public prosperity; secondly, to discuss tbe value of the latest inventions and discoveries, and to assist inventors by its influence, its relations, etc., to find the proper ways and means to draw benefit from their inventions and innovations; thirdly, to entertain relations to be followed up by a brotherly spirit be tween all its members." This is all very commendable, and taken per sa would no doubt recommend tbe "academy" to the favorable consideration of struggling inventors who are waiting and hoping for a chance to get their wares to the market; but, unfortunately or perhaps for tunately accompanying this schedule of "statutes" is a circular" letter, which ex plains itself. Tbe inventor, addressed as "gentleman," is informed that, "after the examination of your last invention the academy has conferred upon you the title of Corresponding Honorary Member (Membre d'Honneur Correspondent),wifh attribution ot a diplom and the great gilded medal. This honorable title will be of no expense to you; only if you would be desirous to re ceive the medal and diplom you would have to send us a money order or check for $10, to cover admission, taxes, freight, etc, and we shall send both well packed aud tree of charge of your address." American inventors who are yearning for the tin "medal and the diplom," to say nothing of the experience, will see that now is their opportunity. Protecting Ships' Bottoms. The questiou of providing some effective method of protecting ships' bottoms has come to be a matter of serious consideration. The condition of the bottom of the flagship Charleston when taken out of the water the other day at Mare Island is described as as tonishing. All sorts of marine crowthi, animal and vegetable, covered the entire wetted surface so thickly that it was impos sible to inspect the steel plates; and until these growths shall have been removed, when it is feared more or less corrosion will have set in, this investigation cannot be made; and the problem of how to protect the bottoms of our new and costly ships, es pecially in the Pacific, will be again pre sented to our naval authorities. One ol the modes suggested for overcoming this diffi- ! cnlty is the use of Japanese lacquer. It appears tnat tnis idea emanated irom a lacquer nianufacturer-of Tokio, who noted tbe fact that lacquered objects that have been subjected to sea water were found to be practically uninjured after a con siderable period of immersion. Experi ments were made on ship plaej at the Yoko suka navy vard, and soon after the Bottom of the Faso-Kan was lacquered. The result was so satistactory that, many other vessels of the Japanese navr bwre .since been sub jected to tbe same process. Experiments are now in progress, with- an anti-fouling lacqner that promises very well. The con tractors guarantee a lacquer coat for three years, and, according t&the rates charged in Japan, the cost of applying it to a vessel like the Charleston would be 52,600 at 13 cents per square foot The lacquer would in all probability cost about double the price here. It is understood that plates thus prepared are now at the New York navy yard under test. Lieutenant Murdock, who has devoted a great deal of attention to the subject, estimates that the lacquer process, assuming that it will last three years, Is cheaper in the long run than painting. New Method of Handling Clay. The great trouble experienced in tbe con struction of the St. Clair tnnnel, in remov ing the stiff clay as it oozed through the apertures of the advancing shield, brought out the fact that clay can, under some con ditions, be manipulated much better by means of a drawing knife than by a shovel. The clay of the tnnnel was so stiff aud sticky that ordinary shovels were bent out of shape in haudling it, and narrow, long-bladed English ditching spades had to be imported for doing the work. It is stated that a journeyman cooper, who was out of a job, secured employment as a laborer in tbeton nel before the work had progressed very far. He was unacenstomed to the handling of both shovel and spade, but said he could make 'a tool that would beat them every time. When he next eame to work he brought an odd-shapeddraw knife, made of a piece of heavy band iron and two wooden handles. Tbe cooper's fellow laborers greeted the novel tool with derision, but thev chanced their tune when they sa.w that it shaved down the clay twice as fast as it could be chopped out with a spade. The engineer in charge quickly recognized the value of the simple adaption, and all tbe laborers were soon furnished with the new tools. Extinguishing Incipient Fire. It is the opinion of experts that much of the money which is spent by factories, mills and stores on the introduction of pipes and valves for fire extinction might be saved by the adoption of a much simpler and more efficient method. Both sulphur and ammo nia are well adapted for extinguishing fire. .Sulphur absorbs oxygen and formssulphurfc acid, tbe fumes of which are much heavier than air. The quantity required would be small, since 70 grammes of sulphur can make 100 cubic metres of air inimical to combus tion. An effective sulphur extinguishing apparatus can be made of a large iron box of moderate depth and open at the top. It should be hinged at one end or the side to a protected ceiling, and kept close thereto by a cord or wire connected with a wire or strap formed chiefly of cadmium fusible at 141 Fahrenheit. Inside the box is placed a considerable quantity of cotton wadding, well saturated with powdered sulphnr. On the beat of an incipient fire melting tbe wire or strip, tbe box drops a short distance; by a simple device the cotton wadding is ignited at the same moment, and a strong cloud of sulphurous acid gas is instantly evolved, which extinguishes the fire by ren dering the air unfit for combustion. Sugar in Mortar. The JWhvacfurer and Builder says that the addition ot saccharine matter to mortar, the idea of which has created much amuse ment among the building fraternity, is an extremely valuable discovery. Iu tbe first place it enables bricklaying to be carried on in frosty weather. Abont two pounds of coarse brown sugar to one bushel of lime .and two bushels of good sand will make a mortar that will resist frost admirably. In depeadentlyof its frost-resisting qualities mortar mixed with sugar is vastly superior to mortar without it. It sets very quickly as hard as cement, makes brickwork exceed ingly strong, and is quite effective when used with dry bricks. For Indoor plaiter ing'it also sets bard-'aud quickly. Whirs portions of the same wall have been covered in one part with 'sugared and in v another jrlta- aniugared mortar, the latter baa ripped up directly when a nail was run over it. months after the former bad become as bard as stone. The sugar should not be added to mortar that is already made; it will make it too thin. It is necessary to dissol ve tho sugar in water first, and then add tbe su gared water to the lime slowly and cautious ly. Tbe mortar should be as stiff as it can bo used. For lime washing, 1 pound of sugar to 16 gallons of water wfll make it adhere splendidly. Drops of whitewash maae with water so mixed, it tney lauoa the floor or window, or on an iron plate, cannot be washed off, which is a conclusive proof of the tenacity of the mixture. Automatic Workman's Time Becorder. A device has been perfected for recording' time automatically. It fills a want that hat long existed iu factories, shops and stores, where a faithful register of the time at which employes begin and leave their work is all-important, both to the employer and tbe employed. The method heretofore adopted, the employment of a special time keeper, is open to the objection that it not only entails expense but also gives rise to frequent disputes as to the accuracy ot the timekeeper's record. The new system prac tically makes every man bis own timekeeper. Eacb worker is given a number, and when he goes to work he takes bis key from the keyboard, inserts it in the keyhole of the re corder, turns it halfway round, takes it out and passes in to his work. This action re cords on the paper ribbon within the ma chine the number of bis key and the exact time of tbe day. If it is desired to register when going out the workman holds down the lever on the outside of the recorder while registering, which prints a star in lront of the record. It is stated that 100 men canthus register within five minutes, aud the time of each employe can be read oft at a glance, without a chance of a mistake. The slips of piper can be removed daily, twice a day or weekly, and filed away and the workman's time is practically in his own handwriting, but is entirely beyond his control. There is no possibility of one man registering for another, as a bell rings when each register is recorded, so that a mau registering twice could easily be detected. An additional safeguard against abuse or tampering is that the recorder is supplied with a device by which the key, after a par tial turn, is locked in and cannot be taken out untii it registers. Tbe-macbineis the most complete and effective apparatus yet devised for the purpose. Tricycle for Military Telephony. A French paper describes tbe employment in military telephony of a tricycle possess ing the unusual qualifications of being adapted either for traveling on roads or for use as a water velocipede, without the neces sity for any change in its mechanical con struction. Such a machine a3 this is likely to be ot service to detached troops carrying no pontoons with them, possessing no means of erecting a temporary bridge and engaged on duties which render permanent commu nications with headquarters necessary. Tbe wheels of the machine are formed of three large hollow biconvex dikes oi sheet iron, and are thoroughly water-tight, serving to support the construction on water. They are fitted with small copper floats, which, while not in the way for road work, act as paddles when the machine is afloat. A small drum is carried on which is coiled from 100 to 2'JO yards of a tinned cop per conductor, insulated with gutta percha aud double braided. A small board, con veniently fixed, carries a portable telephone or a Morse sounder. Tbe telephone is pre ferable, as it can be carried in the pocket, rexuires no regulation, and can be attached to tne chin strap of the nelmet or other military headgear. For river or lake work one Leclanche cell is used, but on salt water a different type of cell is emnloyed. A speed of 9J4 to 12 miles on land, and 2J to i4 miles ou water has been attained with this tricycle. It is said to work very easily, and recent experiments with it at Marseilles are reported to have resulted most satisfac torily. A New Illusion on the Stage. Quite a new description of stage illusion has been originated by Vander Weyde, the eminent London photographer. It consists in so placing a photograph as to give the effect ot a piece of statuary when seen on the stage. Mr. Vander Weyde is now engaged on a commission which he received from a prominent London theatrical manager. A piece is to be produced at this manager's theater very shortly, and a group of statuary is reqniredTor the production. No leading sculptor could be induced to undertake the task of supplying it within the time avail able. It was found that mere modeling in plaster of paris would be unsatisfactory, and tbe manager escaped from his dilemma by engaging Mr. Vander Weyde to prepare the figures. It is stated that tbe illusion is so wonderruL that tbe onlooker refuses to be lieve that tbe shadow projected is anything but solid stone. . - Earnings of Hallways for 1890. Bradttreei's gives the gross earnings of 129 railways for the year 1890. The amount realized on a total mileage of 85,678 was $484,239,134. This is a gain of 8.6 per cent iu earnings and 2.7 per cent iu mileage. The gain on 130 roads in 1889 over 1883 was 8.5 per cent. Every group of roads shows an increase for the year,the smallestgain being that ot the Mexican roads, seven-tenths of 1 per cent and tbe largest that of the south western roads, 12.7 per cent. In addition to the latter, three others shw gains in excess 01 10 per cent, viz., the Eistern roads 10.3 per cent, the Southern roads 12 per cent and the Pacific roads 10.9 per cent. The cen tral Western roads gain 9 5 per cect and the grangers 8.7 per cent, while the trunk lines show the comparatively modest gain of 2.4 per cent. Admission to Hallway Stations. The Pam, Lyons and Mediterranean Bailroad has inaugurated a novel mode of limiting the overcrowding of its stations. Persons who wish to see their friends off on a train or enter the waiting rooms for any purpose are required to buy a station ticket, the price of which is 2 cents, and which is good for one hour if the holder wishes to stay so lorlg. . Tbe ticket, however, must be given up on leaving the station, however short the stay, and for readmission another ticket must be bought New Cse for the Fnlsometer. The pnlsometer is now nsed for filling the fenders of locomotivss with water. The pnl someter itself is of the ordinary pattern, connected with the steam tanks and feed valves by flexible piping, and when not in' use is carried on the tender. When about to be brought into requisition it is simply lowered into a convenient stream or lake by suitable means, and its application to this) purpose is said to be extremely satisfactory. BASF. PBESENCS 07 MIHD. How a Woman Whose Foot Caught on th Tracks Escaped Death. Vansaeld, O.. Shield and Banner. Last Tuesday afternoon Mrs. E. A. Lock lin, who lives north of the city, near tha Erie track, came to tbe city to do shopping. On returning home, walking along the Erie) track, she noticed that the westbound limit ed train was coming toward her at full speed. She attempted to step off the track, but her shoe caught between the rail and the guard rail. She struggled frantically to release her self, but found that the shoe was so wedged in that it was impossible to wrench it from tbe rails. When the train was only a short distance from her and after the engineer had given a warning "blast of his wbistle, with remarkable presence of mind, she reached down, unbuttoned her shoe, and Just had time to tumble into tbe pit of the cattle-guard, in front of her. as tha train ru-bed over her. The train men, feeling satisfied that they had killed her. backed the train to care for tbe mangled remains, but judge of their astonishment when they saw her rise ont of the cattle guard, put on. what remained of her shot sad started for home. . 1 ik .-- 'i..
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers