F Mfiii mmji n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 p-nviMi jam j ! ilia Mi I IM "WPWWMf41- rS'wsrvsrsyTrjgjp 3TSWS95ke "t: w?r -JBr 16 THE PITTSBTmQ- DISPATCH,' SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER.- 6, 18P1 rrarm 'r-ir-rTrrrr iTmjiwn"T irir itmt rrr- MiMra i Freda with growingMWeontent " I should think you would be above leading a man on," she said once. Freda raised her eyebrows. "My dear, you mean Breton?" " Yes." "Dear rhild, he's leading me on. Besides, I thought tou didn't care." "I don't. Yet, as a friend" Daisy stopped and blushed furiously, as her eyes rilled. Freda answered clearly: "You are a goose: Mr. Breton is a nice fellow. He thinks a great deal of you. A transient in fatuation for me won't hurt him, and it trout hurt his regard for you. I am only an actress' to him, but he respects you. He might woo me if he got a chance, but he would marry you. He's a man of the world, dear don't expect him to be any thing else. They are, after all, the best men. They make the best friends, the best lovers, the"bcit husbands. Daisy looked at her in horror. . "Do you think I would marry a man like that?" she crasped. "I hope" so, if he loved you and you loved him. Don't judge men by books. Take them as they are." Daisy shuddered and Freda went oa: "I ha e no interest in him not abit If you say so, I will see no more of him, but I tell ou, frankly, a man won't be choked oil tfiat war. To evade him now will only make him worse; yet, if you say so, I will see no more of him." Daisy made an indignant gesture. "Well, it would be unfair to me. He seems inclined to find out what sort of girl I am, and it's only fair to me to let him; yet, I wiil do as you like." "Pardon me," returned Daisy, with sim ple dignity. "You will do as you choose." Freda's "brows knitted in an ugly way. "Thanks," she said, "I will." She felt herself ill-treated, and her warm hearted -frankness met with 'covert insult. Bhe wroteBreton on a line saying she would sup with iim after the theater. As the cab drew up, "What place is this?" asked Freda. "Carson's," Breton returned easily, but with inward trepidation. "The place is considered rather Bohemian, is it not"" Freda inquired with perfect directne.s. "I think not, but if you object, of course " "I presume you are able to protect me if necessary," Freda returned indifferently. "Besides," with an air of sincerity, "it would not occur to me to object to a place to which vou, -a gentleman, bring me." Breton "bowed. He! seemed to be known. A greasy but self-satisfied waiter showed them into a supper room. It was occupied by a half dozen separate parties, an J it was rather dingy. Presumably patrons stood all this because thev thought themselves doing iomething wordly, and because ordinarr dishes were served as English cookery, anel because prices m ere high. Breton watched his companion closely. Her face was bright, her manner uncon strained. With the supper he ordered champagne. As the glasses were filled, Freda said, her lids drooping and her voice pretty ith a childish infliction: "You must not let me drink much of it. It is the only nine that affects me." "Dear me' We must be careful." She laughed merrily Then, with an air of bravad;, 6he half drained her glass, stop ping at the half to laugh over the brim into Breton's eyes. He was not sure why she laughed, but there was provocation in her eyes. "You are more merry to-night than I can be." "You surely did not'bring me here to be miserable?" "I hope not. Yet I remember that I shall soon see no more of you, and I cannot laugh as I think of if ' ' "Your pathos lacks sincerity, but as com edv it is good." ''I am sincere." Treda lifted her brows, but the pause did not embarrass her. "Life seems one long list of partings." "The audience was moved to tears, permit me!" andFredaapplied the corner of her handkerchief to her eye. "You are pleased to jest, Miss Sonaday, yet your life must have taught you the sad ness of meeting onlv to part." 'I've often found it more embarrassing to part only to meet. Our conversation drifts toward wig making. May I have more champagne?" "Do you know, I think it is best that I should "have no more of your regard," he said as he filled her glass. "Don't be offended that I do not ask why. I'm not interested. I know what your an swer would be." "I should love you " "Very likely. Where do you think of going? "Mr business calls me to San Fran cisco." "Dear me, I thought you were going to Africa. San Francisco isn't safe; there are actresses there." "The jest is unworthy of you. As I thought it over last night, it seemed sad to me. To meet one like yourself a con genial; to feel a subtle tie binds one to her, a tie which might, if the gods permitted, bind one to her forever, and a parting comes." "And often how lucky it is it comes," In terpolated Freda cheerfully. He went on as if in good faith. "Fortunate sometimes, I suppose, yet how sal, how sad always." "Your regrets are misplaced. "Most peo ple ii ho please each other for two weeks would bore each other in three." "But why cut short thejblessed two?" Freda smiled over the rim of her glass. "Was it cutting short any blessed two?" There fell " a pause. Breton seized her hand. She shook his off imperiously. "Don't. You arc stupid." "Am I stupid? What do you mean?" "I mean you are stupid." "Be serious. Mar I still see you?" "My dear sir! you may run around after 1 "Can vou'not see that I love you!" "I had not noticed it." "I have done everything a man can do to show it" "Oh, dear! You have chased after the company chiefly to keep watch of a girl for whom you care, incidentally, to amusp your self. In the latter cause you have taken me to a supper or so." ;'I beg of yous Ah! do you not seel I love you." "Exclamation points do not constitute logic Mv dear Mr Breton, rou have talked a lot and gotten nowhere, except, perhaps, Into tue urmpatnies 01 tne waiter wno is doubtless listening." Breton nas. disappointed. He had looked for something like piquancy in the affair. Freda's business-like, "You "have talked a lot and gotten nowhere," was deplorably cold blooded. He tipped his chair back and spoke nsh a sudden new inflection of earnestness: "Will vou marry me and go on a trip to Europe?" "And my engagement?" "It can go to the dickens." Freda, her elbow on the table, sat looking Into Breton's cjes. Then she smiled slightly. "Anil I can go there after it um! Your plan is not praticnblc." "Yes, it is practicable. I can settle my business so that I can get away. You "' "Oh, jes; it's practicable for you of course 1 meant for me." "Whr not?" "Such plans never are practicable for the woman." "It should not be impracticable " She smiled sweetly. "But it is." "Come now, why for the woman if not for the man why?" "Because as society.stands an elopement does not pay the woman." "What do you mean?" "I mean that, iewcd practically, and as, a matter of business only, it does not pay the woman. Your maintenance of me as a wife would accommodate me no better than I am able to place myself. Your generosity would supplr my purse less regularly and doubtless less liberally than does my salary. My present business engagement is for three years and bound by contract. My marriage with you would be for most uncertain time and secured by nothing, fh my present position I daily increase the value of rar ah'litio- ind 'In not impair mr she found herself regarding Iiersonal standing. In the proposed wed ock 1 should waste the one professionally, and, from a social standpoint, sacrifice tne other. From my present engagement I can step into any other, or into any otner station of life. At the termination of the wedlock you suggest, I should find my field limited. Moreover, my good looks would be impaired and my pocketbook doubtless depleted. It does "not pay, my friend, it does not pay." "How can you be so cold-hearted ?" "I'm not cold-hearted; I'm oool-headed." "My darling, evidently this is no life for you! Love must teach you how to live and to trust. Let me take you away from all of this! Let me take you " "Where?" "Where.your nature can have the deTel-J opment it needs. 'Theoretically charming, but geographi cally unsatisfactory." "Does it mean nothing to you that a man loves vou?" "Ye'ry little, usually. You know men are always falling in love with us. Sooner or later they declare themselves and that is the end of it. Is it not? Your declaration really calls for no further discussion, does it? Let us talk of the weather" "Freda!" "Miss Sonaday, please, just as usual" "Will you listen to me?" "Dear me, I have. You have done me the honor to offer marriage, which would be transient, I am sure. I have done myself the honor to refuse." "You have misunderstood." e"Dear boy, I have explained toyouas clearly as I could that your proposition as a business one does not appeal to me. Don't insult my intelligence by repeating it in a new set of words." "What has business to do with it? I love you and wish to marry you." "So you have said If I reciprocated the honor, "business might have less to do with it, but though myjudgment would perhaps be so far affected, the facts would remain the same. The compensation, is wholly in adequate. I don't want to marry you, you know." The blood tingled to his finger tips, and for a moment his sight watered. "What more can I do? I love you. You, who known men so well, can see that." ','Please do not work yourself into a be lief that you love me, or you may become violent. You know as well as I do that there is no question of love involved. You are merely trying a vulgar and very usual experiment. I do not rebuke your moral standards. They are none of my business. I have not advanced my own; they are none of your business. To close further discus sion, however, I will say that were yon a thousand times more sincere and more con vincing than you are I should not consider myself tree to change my decision. I shall love a man sometime, and I shall want to marry him. May I call your attention to the fact that it grows late?" "Are yort afraid?" Breton scoffed. "2"ot abit. Doubtless, had you proved more interesting, I should not have observed the flight of time." He rang sharply, ordered the check and adjusted Freda's cloak. Meanwhile, Freda thought of Daisv. 'Let us be friends." she said gently. "We understand each other, but we need not be ill-tempered about it." She put out her hand. He stooped and kissed it. Freda felt bored when, iaving got back to her hotel, she was alone. She was accus tomed to men's flattery, and Tshe was an noyed to find the same old story told in about the same old way. "Why will I always meddle with situa tions?' thought fretfully. "I ought to know by this time that no 'man proves in teresting. They either prove fools them selves or seem to take you for one. Either is uninteresting to the woman." As a thought of Daisy came into her mind she paused before entering, and, leaving he'r door "unlocked, turned up the hall to go to Marguerite's room. The elevator was not running. She climbed the one flight lazily. Daisy sat at the mirror, her dark hair loose about her shoulders. She started np at sight of Freda. "What do you want?" "To say good night, my hospitable friend." Freda had come in soft-hearted mood, but Daisy's greeting changed all that. Mar guerite grew pale, paused a moment and then said bra ely: "Fredaj Idont believe you are. my friend and I wish yon would go away." "Why do you think I am not your friend?" Freda was interested at the other girl's show of courage. Daisy flushed painfully and could not go on. "Pooh! it's Breton. I doubt if he is worth the bother. Daisy. I have been to supper with him," she added by way of ex planation, "and he seemed very ordinary." "You are leading him on," " Daisy said slowly. "You said that before, and T pointed out your error. He is leading me on." "l don t oeiieve it. .tie is an honorable eentleman." "My dear it doesn't interfere with the honor of the modern gentleman to find out what sort of a woman an actress is, and to treat her as he finds her. I believe I sug gested that to you, too." "I don't understand your theories, Freda." "It isn't theory it's experience." "Do you want him to love you?" "Certainly not He hasn't it in him to love me. Yet, cool-headed, honorable gen tlemen are liable to take a sudden notion that they're in love. Your friend may get such an attack of me, but it won't last long, and ;he won't really fall in love with me. Besides, the man probably loves you. Any man must, I should think, for whom you care." "I don't care for him," hurst out Daisy, and began to sob. V- Freda put her hand on the girl's shoul der. "I think you do. Don't fret! He's as worthy it as any man is. Don't treat him, or think of him'as an abandoned profligate. He's only what most men are till the right woman comes along and lays hold of the best in him, and makes a man of him. And, dear, don't pitch into me for a lost-to-shame coquette. I amuse myself with as little harm doing as possible." 'Go oh please, please go!" moaned Daisy. - "-ill right," Freda said cheerily, but she didn't feel-cheerful. "I wonder if marrying Fred Sticknor would make a happy "woman of me," she thought. She went swiftly down the hall toward her room. The lights were turned low and the place was quiet. The door just beyond hers and on the other side was outlined by light from w ithin, and the transom showed bnzht. Through the silence sounded a faint chink of poker chips, and then a voice: "Somebody shy ! Come up, Parlance, don't gum the game !" "How did the boys come to get that room, I wonder," Freda thought, for a mo ment half inclined to go in and ask for a hand. There was no key in her door. "I must have laid it down at Daisy's," she thought, congratulating herself that she had left the lock turned back. a The room was dimly lighted, to be sure ! The men had come up for the trunks. Why n ill the management make people live in bags over Sunday? She groped to the center of the room, stumbling over an un expected chair, and turning up the one lighted jet of the chandelier, found herself lacing Breton. The two stared at each other. Then Bre ton said courteously, but with an ugly smile: "This is very good of you, Miss Freda. Will you not sit down ?" "Thank you," returned Freda slowly, "but you are the guest here, and, 'I am con strained to add, au unwelcome one. What nonsense is this? Must I ring to have you put out of my room, or call to the boys across the way, or will you save a stupid scene, and go off yourself?" Breton walked to the door, turned the. key, whichwith a shock Freda observed was on the inside, and removing it read the tag, 164. Of course, if I am mistaken, and this is your room, I mut apologize." "One hundred and sixty-four," repeated I Freda stupidly. She put her hand over her face a moment Her cheeks were scarlet and her lips quiv ering when she looked up, but she spoke clearly and with simple earnestness. "I went unto Daisy's room from mine. When I left her I forgot I was not on my own floor. This jroom is directly above mine. I must apologize," Freda went on, "and go home as fast as Ican." She laughed slightly and with a pretty show of unfrightened distress she held out her hand for the key. Breton., turned it on his finger, staring at her somberly.- " Please don't forget what is due to yonr 'self" Freda went on a little breathless; "please don't make me suffer any further embarrassment over my stupid mistake." Breton had half a mind that it was no mistake and that she had come there to ac cept his plan of elopement and marriage. "I have told you that I love you," he said sullenly. "Will you marry me?" - "And I have told you that tne informa tion does not interest me. Give me the key. .Let me go. Yon know as well as J do that I can ring the bell and have help in a moment You know as, well as I do tnat I can call to the boys ovtrthe way." " You won't do either." Her color faded. "That is so, too.. This is your room, not mine. I remember that I should alarm the house and compromise well, you, after all for I am an actress, and of course for me it does not count Still, as you say, I'm not going to do it If it will satisfy your manly dignity in any way to keep mehere, well and good. Just remem ber, it's the lock and key that keeps me, and not you." She looked him over with very hearty disgust, and added: "What a very con temptible person you are!" She crossed the room to a sofa, pulled it out so that it faced him, pulled her cloak about her, and saying whimsically: "I suppose von don't expect me to keep awake do you?'"' She lifted her feet with a brisk move most graceful women have, and disposing of them well wound in her skirts, settled herself comfortably. Breton glared at her from under bent brows. "Don't you understand," he said, striding heavily to her, "that you are here alone and at the mercy of a BcandaL Have you no fear?" "Pooh; not a bit! Don't be more obnox ious than you can help," she said roughly. He staggered to his feet, crossed the room unsteadily; then, with a swift mo e turned and took a small pistol from the bureau. "Promise to marry me," he said,""orI will kill you, and then myself. I will prove to you that I am in earnest" In an instant Freda half sat up. There was a quick disappearing of her hand"in the folds other dress. Then she cried clearly: "If it's pistols, I carry one myself," and a dainty silver muzzle covered him. Only their sharp breathing sounded. Then Freda said in d low voice: "Pull yourself together! Bemember, there is a "girl in this house for whom you care, a girl whose name I will not 'shame vou by speaking it now. Think a minute of her," and don't make me shoot, it makes so much noise. Besides, I'm a good shot and I might hurt you." Breton's brain cleared. He laid down the weapon and bowed his head in his hands. "What fools women make of us!" he groaned. . Then he unlocked the door, motioned to it, and bowed his head in his hands again. Freda hesitated. Then she said softly and clearly: "Mr. Breton, j. win never speas 01 mis to anyone. Don't forget the girl you care for. 1 know you are a better man thanyou have shown yourself to me." Then" she added quaintly: "By your leave, I will turn out the gas, that my exit may be as unconspicuous as possible. It will be well to take such precautions as are yet avail able." She opened the door quietly, but without over caution, nnd stepped into the hall with no show of timidity. If she was caught, appearing ashamed of herself would only make things worse. The chinK of chips still sounded. Sup pose ono of the boys should come out? Her heart beat yet more heavily. What an awful position to be in! She went with fly ing feet past the staircase, then walked on down the hall as far as Daisy's room. A light still burned within, and she could hear Daisy sobbing. She glanced back. 2o one was in sight She laid her hand on the knob of Daisy's door, then leisurely re traced her steps toward the-stairs. Before she reached them the poker room opened and a man came toward her. "Freda, where have you been?" "That you. Parlance How much are you in? Daisy has the blues, and she nodded her head backward toward Daisy's room. "Seven out. That's no reason you should be up all night Go to bed." "Good night, dear boy. No don't see me to my door. It might make a scandal. Your good manners will get yon into trouble some day. Good night" She found the key in the outside of the door as she had left it In another moment I she was safe locked inside. She drew a long oreatn. "That was dramatic! I must get some body to load that pistol for me." CHAPTER X AUNTT IS DONE TOB. Daisy was not in the room when Freda went there a few days later, but she came in presently, a soft flash on her cheeks. Freda sat at the foot of the bed, curling some stage feathers with the dull edge of a dinner knife. She had been wondering to herself whether she ought to tell Daisy of the interview with Mrs. Marimone. "Hello, Daize," she said shortly, feeling very guilty. She was certain that by some lucky chance the Breton family had overlooked entirely their relative's interest in Daisy. And a good thing, too, she thought, for if ever poor Daisy had encountered Mrs. Mari mone, that dignified and ponderous lady would have ground the poor child to powder. Daisy was just the child to 50 and sacrifice herself and all that, book-fashion, because a velvet clad aunt turned up and bullied her. Yet should she not warn Daisy? Could she warn her without p-oducing much the re sult Mrs. Marimone herself would have brought about? Would it not be better to speak to Breton? Yet that would seem hardly delicate towards Daisy- While she debated Daisy came to the bed, and leaning over the loot board slid shyly: "What pretty feathers!" "Pretty locky, you mean." "No, I don't Put.themsup, Freda," "Couldn t get anything on them, my dear!" "I I want to speak to you, Freda." "Speak away, friend mine." Daisy slipped somehow to her knees be side Freda, and lifting her arms about her waist said: "Please kiss me first" "With my heart on my lips, dear! There. Now what's the trouble?" "Henroyd has becn.here." Freda had never heard her say Henroyd before, but she made no comment; she only tightened her clasp about the girl. Daisy s head drooped; then lifting it close against Fratla's breast, she said falteringly: "Freda, I want you to forgive me for the wicked thoughts I have had of you. I know now how generous and true you are. It was my own selfish heart that misled me. Please forgive me, Freda." Freda gulped nervously. t "Don't talk like that, Daize yon make me feel a goose." "But please let me." She unclasped her hands from about Freda's waist "I have just seen him." "Who?" with sudden interest "Henroyd." - "Where?" "In thev parlor. And ." Daisy did not seem to be able to tell Very fast She sat back on her heels, and twisted and un twisted her hands, the fingers interlacing. A gleam caught Freda's glance. She iuicu iuc OLiui icib uauu au iici iu, Day lug quietly: "Dear girl, dear, dear friend is, it this " Daisey 's head went down on Freda's knee, and she'began to cry. Freda lifted the left hand; kissed the jeweled band upon it, and said in a choked voice: "Aunty is-done fori" f 7b be Continued tiirri fhrvlfi 1 ME'SIIFEONAFARI. He Has a Cow That Ib Aristocratic and a Mule Thatls Haughty. NEITHER CAN EOfiQET THE WAE, Tiro Yariegated Steers Into Whose Mouths He Throats His Head. A FBIENDLY AND PELLUCID 1ETTEE ' tcoaaisroKDKKCi or the dispatch. Buncombe County, "Si C, Sept -3. It is now the season of the year for gathering in the fall crops. The yield has not been up to what I had looked for on my own place. Farming with me is not indulged in for the coarse joy it yields or'the wealth which it pours into my coffers. I do it for the reason that I think it makes me a better man. I also want my boys to learn to love the farm. So I got them, to put into crop a small piece of ground and agreed to pay them a high price for their vegetables. Being a busy man, I have not paid much attention to the process of their farming, but I have bought from them ?65 worth of truck which I could have gotten of the neighbors for 531 50, and which. my young agriculturists, I am told, did buy at even less than that. I hate to See boys do that way to a man who has always been regarded as a first-class parent in every way. TEOUBLE -WITH rfis ANIMALS. My farm animals consist, among other things, of a rather coarse but well meaning cow, which we bought here. She was born at the South, and some of the best "blood of this country flows in her veins. Ideality is smallj but her alimentiveness and in habitiveness are large. She has a vivacious way with her that wins everyone, but she still retains a feeling of intense hatred toward, the people of the North. Though I had nothing to do with the war, and did not Lines to a Mule. favor it at the time, this cow holds me re sponsible to a degree for the results of the war, and I have never been able to get en rapport with her. It is the same with a little mouse colored ass, or burro, which I bought for use on the farm and for ornamental riding over the highly inflamed roads of North Carolina. His name is Juanita pronounced Wha neeta. Whaneeta, in the language of Pat rick Henry, "is dead sore on the war," and regards me as having brought it on, whereas I did not do so, but, on the contrary, did all I could honorably to evade it I wrote to a paper in I860, being at that time at Win nipeg, that unless the war was. prevented in some way I would stay where I was for a long time. But Juanita gets mad about the war and broods over it, and mourns and mourns and mourns. Juanita is also child less and that makes him feel the war worse, I think, than he.otherwise would. Juanita was owned by a neighbor of ours here named Nettles. Mr. Nettles did not seem to want to part with Juanita, but did finally, and last week when I offered to let him have the little pet he said: "No; the wound is healed over now. Do not tear it open afresh by compelling me to go allthrougnit again." TAKES HIS OATS KELUCTANTIjT. When we first let the children ride on him he did not seem to brood so much over the war, but we noticed that the children felt uneasy about something, and pretty soon I discovered that little souvenirs of the late war were to be found all over him. So I had to disinfect him and renovate him be fore we could use him. But he regards him self yet as my superior, I can see that Though poor and measly, with large bald places on his person where he has rubbed himself agains'"an upright farm while try ing to forget the past and get rid of the re- .nU.V ia wdr T nan bpa that. Tift rpf ard (himself as unfortunate, but refined. Juanita regards me as a low, coarse Yankee, whose oats are reluctantly taken in exchange for his refined social influence. He does not havemuch fun, and ever and anon he bursts forth into a wail that shows how keenly he suffers. He is the worst sample of moth-eaten respectability and un laundried hauteur that I ever haw. He has the pride of Lucifer and the personal habits of Dives. He is most unfortunately made up of strange contradictions and unhappy warring elements wuicu 1111 jus ureasi wiiu a wild tumult I Once wrote some lines to a pet mule of mine, among which occur the following, which I have addressed to Juan ita during the past week. There is a vein of melancholy running through the work which some o'f my friends at the Author's Club say remind them of Dante. It is in blank verse, which seems to be the only literary method for successfully treating the mule. The words and music are as follows: LINES THAT FIT A MTTIE. Oh, lovoly, gentle, unobtrusive mule. Thou standest idly 'gainst the azure sky An8 eetly, sadly singest lio a hired man. Vhn tiiiiir it tnee iius to waroie In the noontido heat and wrestle with Thv deep, corroding grief nnd joyless woe? Who taught thy simple heait Its pent-up wildly warring waste Of wanton woe to carrol forth upon the silent airt (Second Verse.) I chide thoe not, because thy Song is irnught with grief-embittered Honotpne and jovles minor chords Of wild, imported melody, for thou Ait lestless, woe begirt, nnd Compassed round about with gloom, Thou timid, trusting, orphan mulet Few joys, indeed, are thine. Thou tlilico bestneken, madly Mournful, melancholy mule. And he alone w ho strews Thy pathway with Iris cold remains, Can give the recompense Of fostering and injuiious woe. He who hath sought to steer Thy limber, yielding tail Fernist thy emptier band Hath given theejoy, ana he alone. 'Tis true, he may have shot Athwart the zodiac, and looking O'er the outer walls upon Tho New Jerusalem, Havo uttered vain regrets, Thou reckest not, oil, orphan mule, For it hath given theojoyand Bound about thy bursting heart And held thy tottering reason To its throne. Sine on, oh, mule, and warbla In the twilight gray, , TJnchtdden by the-heartless throng. Sing of thy parents on thy father's side. Yeanufor the days now past ana gone, For ho who pens these halting, , Limping lines to thee Doth bid thee yearn and yearn and yearn. TBTINO TO THREAD A TAII The above lines were written while re covering' from an injury received while try ing lo thread the tail of one of-those little creatures through a split stick in the fall of '75. Though the writer was racked with pain, the poem seems to breathe a spirit of forgiveness and untutored poesy and trust and passion, as well as the massive poetic feet which characterize some of the earlier 'works of Thomas Brower Peacock, of To peka, Kan. I employ on my farm, also, a small pair of variegated steers, which the artist has kindly agreed to illustrate. They are hay ing a sitting now as I write. These dficile creatures are entirely under my control, and though much larger than the average North Carolina steer of trade, they are thoroughly subservient to my will, and my admirers need not fear that anything will happen to me that would deprive them of meforI often enter their cage and fool with them by the hour, at times inserting my head in their extended jaws as far as it will co and then rudely removing it Their names are Brin and Bolly. m& A Fair of Variegated Steers. Crops here are not above the aver age this year. Babbits are eating manv of my vegetableo, and that, together with & prolonged, visit from the artist who is sketching my steers, will make times pretty hard here during the winter. EXPEMEHCE WITH FERTILIZEB. I used bonedust in my farming this year, and the crop will pay tne drayage on this bonedust, leaving perhaps 18 or 20 cents for future use. I use enly the best bonedust, if possible, no matter what the cost It will pay in the end. Nothing is gained by buyiDg the bonedust of inferior people. Apples are looking well, especially the Eany Horse apple, the Low Flat Early Dutch tirum Head apple, the Isabella apple, the Limbertwig apple, the Late Wormless apple, the Dead Bed or League apple with lignum vitoe works in it, the "Winter Death Bate Seedling apple and the TrunK Line apple; ail are loomng very wen indeed. Plowing for winter grains is now going forward, especially on some of the more erect farms. Kye will be sown in large quantities here next year. A North Carolina farm looks best with vegetables at the base, then grain of some kind, and then at the top a border of peavines runping around the upper edge of the farm, together with a moldin? bf some kind to hansr pictures on. Some oi these farms look well when draped with something pretty, and on cold nights I hang a dark drap de tat portiere over my farm, or sometimes a Bice curtain, to keep the moths out of my watermelons. WORKING QUI THE EOAD TAX, Willing hands are now working on the roads of Buncombe county,, and orders are issued thai the dead along' the joad who have perished from internal Injuries or corduroy dislocations, concussions, etc., shall be buried at the expense of the State. Oar principal roads are soon to be macadam ized, and the .Legislature will be memor ialized. This-will be of untold benefit to both. The condition of this country is rapidly approaching completion, and will one day add to those already past, thus gathering in its wonderful career all those, which is held forth to be, as the good book has said, "For the night cometh when no man shall roll to trether as a scroll, falling some on good ground and some on the just as well as the unjust, and as Isaiah wouia say, it l do not forget the exact wording, "Go forth as the cedars of Lebanon or a great rock in a weary land to cry out, fear not and flourish from the rising of the sun even unto the third and fourth generations of just men made perfect." The above suggests to me a note just re ceived from a correspondent of mine who has been writing to me regularly for over two years, though I have not answered any ot his letters Decause tney were too deep lor me. CLEAB AND C02IFBEHEN8ITB. Mr. Zdgir'W. Nyet Peak Sir Although It should not bs a consideration and very probably is not I would like to say I wish to take back the suggestions I sont you other than as applied to myself Increased to the extent that I want nothing to do with it whatever also probably uncalled for. The third party is all right enough and can be improved as having something to it and in any case is working in from every viow tho best direc tion free and the question biought up, taken ont orglven abackueat or no promi nence or hedged, fieo silver coinage no good can possibly come fi om, but which within a need could be 1,000 times better handled and meet (Case moro money need and ae companj ing possibilities taken the best ad vantage pf or furthered with it). The back gold i ay idea in regard to illogical non sense as a question and especially unjust in lopsidedness both within tho present condi tion and as policy. Very respectfully yours, There are three other men and a woman who are writing me on the same subject every week. I like their clear and unan swerable logic, but I Cannot do the work on a large farm and expect to be quick enough to grasp all these great questions in a min ute. The fact is, that by the time I have done all the chores at night and bathed my chubby feet at the well and wiped them on the grass I ought to go to bed. Bim. Nye. SIHGEI5G THE HAHi. Experience Has Led New Yorkers to Doubt That It Will Care Baldness. New York Morning Journal. J The fallacious practice of singeing the hair in orderyto prevent its falling out in handfuls has largely fallen into disuse. There used to be a time when every barber shop .in the city had wax tapers, and the employes would politely ask customers if they desired a "singe," much the same as they now insist on a person taking a sham poo. The philosophy of the singe is simple, but it is fallacious. Barbers contend that the hair is a hollow tube? and the oil from the bulb of the hair exuding from the tubes cause the hair to dry up and fall out Singe ing the hair closed up the ends and pre vented the loss of oil, thus keeping the hair from falling out. But the fact remains that it did not prevent the hair from falling out, and the practice has become almost ex tinct. Tho Boers and Natives. Cases of cruel treatment inflicted by Boers on natives are by no means rare, says Lord Bandolph Churchill writing from Africa to the Philadelphia Frets. The Boer does not recognize that the native is in any degree raised above the level-uf the lower animals. In conversation he describes the native as "creature." New Tork. Board of Health on Win. Dr. Janes of the New York Board of "Health says: "I take great pleasure in testifying to the superior qualities of the port wine pro duced by Alfred Speer of New Jersey. After a prolonged trial I recommend it as a superior wine for the sick and debili- n"." MWwMM.4 VO&y'ja! sw THE JEEU OF CHILE, His Idda of a Pleasure Hide Is a Tremendous Shaking Up. ODD CONCEPTION OF THE BIGHTS. The Horseback Outfit of an Aristocrat Stands Him $5,000. STREET SCENES IN rJONCEPCJON rcoBBEsroxoixcx or THE dispatch. Concepchw, Chile, Aug. 5. In this country when one desires to take a ride, he does not send around to the livery stable for a vehicle, but sallies forth on foot, carry ing whatever paraphernalia the excursion may require, and walks until a birlocherb comes along. These public carriages arc much like the "hacks" in common use at ho'me, except that they are built in more substantial fashion, for these roughly-paved roads would soon shake an ordinary coach into kindling wood. Hail a passing birlochero, and its droyer will whirl his raw-boned horses two or three times around in the narrow street, grazing the houses on either side, to the imminent peril of pedestrians, for he con siders that a deal of noise, flourish and whip cracking are necessary to do proper honor to the occasion. Having satisfied his conscience in that regard, and brought his foaming steeds to a stand-still, vou clamber in and are whisked away, pell-mell, oyer the stones, at a pace that may be truly termed a "spanking" one, for you are hounded against the top like a rubber ball and hurled into your neighbor's arms with force enough to fracture thinlycushioned ribs bonnets battered, hats knocked off; but you may be consoled by the reflection that you are riding for pleasure, and that this heroic exercise is good for garlic-impaired digestion. THE JEHU'S IDEA OF BEAT7TT. Hereabouts the favorite after-dinner drive is to "a suburban pleasure garden 'called the Polanco, which is much frequented by all classes of society. The place in itself has no attractions; but there are few ways of varying the monotony of ine in uniie, and tne numan species are like sheep, the world over, yon know, in the following the lead of a bell-wether. When first arrived in this part of the coun try, we used carefully to explain to our coachman that we were strangers in the land and desired to be shown the most beantiful and entertaining sights. We found the cocheros obliging fellows, always delighted with the mission and proud to exhibit home institutions; but unfortunately their ideas of the beatiful differed greatly from our own. The first Jehu drove us straight to the slaughter house, and throwing wide the door, triumphantly invited us toenter and view the whole process of killing and dressing. Having declined the amusement, to his in finite surprise and disappointment, he drove next to the big hospital, where- legs and arras. are sawed galore, and where a vast array of amputated sores and tumo:s and monstrosities arc set fourth in glass bottles. Finding us still not agreeably diverted eveD by this gruesome display which pos sesses extraordinary fascination for the low class Chilend he spent the remainder of the afternoon driving sulkily up and down the same streets, evidently ruminating upon the stupidity of Gringoes. , THE SIGHTSJOF THE STREETS. Another cochero, delegated with the same mission, made a bee-line to the almshouse; another carried us at once to the peniten tiary, and another to the poor little ceme tery. At last we learned that Concepcion has no "sights," even her churches being too new to be interesting; and now on our afternoon drives we give the unvarying or der, "Vayaal Polanco, "go to the pleasure garden. One is sure to encounter many novelties en route, and the streets are a lively panorama, slow-moving but kaleido scopic, of unfailing interest to the foreigner. For example: There is a gray-bearded, dignified Guaso, mounted on a fine horse, with his fat wife behind him. He is topped by a broad-brimmed hat, the rest of his per son enveloped in a bright-lined poncho, or native blanket, with a slit in the center through which he thrusts his head; while she wears a purple cotton gown, a scarlet shawl, and a man's hat of Panama straw. The horse's bridle is plaited with silver, and on the saddle are piled five or six shaggy pillones, or woolen cloths,- which almost cover his thighs. The rowels of the Guaso's spurs are, without exaggeration, large as ordinary tea" plates from six to eight inches across, and often heavily plated with silver. His stirrups are made from a block of oak, elaborately carved and hollowed inside say 10 inches high by nine inches in diameter for a moderate size, each weighing four or five pounds form ing a complete protection for the feet when passing through mud, mountain bushes and rocKy denies. navr thby use the lasso. At one side of the saddle is fastened a coiled lasso, made of twisted hide, about as thick as your thumb, 50 or 60 feet long, with a slip-noose at the end. The Qaaso is never without his lasso, and the skill with which he can use it is amazing. If he wishes to capture an animal that may be running off at full speed, he takes the coil in his right hi.id, urges his horse to a mad gallop, and whirling the lasso to give it momentum, hurls its loop with unerring aim around the neck, horns or legs of the animal, with as much ease and accuracy as a skilled baseball player sends his ball. The horse is so trained that the instant the laso leaves his rider's hands, he stops and braces himself, to bear the strain of the struggling animal. Chileans of the Guaso class are bred to this exercise from infancy, and every ragamuffin urchin old enough to toddle, is forever practising his art on poultry, dogs, cats and other small animals thit come in his way, with the same dia bolical persistence that the gamin of Tern and Bolivia shy stones out of strings at passers-by, and Patagonian boys, a degree less civilized, shoot their bone-tipped arrows. Hurrying on toward the Polanco, we meet and pass other birlocheros, all filled with chattering and smiling Chileans; drunken sailors, come over from the port of Talca huano to "paint the town," galloping the streets at break-neck speed, knowing little about horsemanship and caring less; and peons, seated on the rear end of little donkeys, carrying before them huge pan niers ot iruits and vegetaoies. MERCHANTS OF THE SIDEWALKS. Every street corner is occupied by a ragged exile from sunny Italy, with hand organ and monkey, grinding "out music to the delighted populace. These trouba douring nuisances are more fortunate here than in the far North, for in Chile they are never routed ay the police, but are actually paid by the authorities. Here comes a peon with along pole over his shoulder, from which dangle bunches of tallow candles, while he sings in a musical voice with many variations of inflection, "Velos de sebo'' (tallow candles). Behind him comes an other barefooted citizen carrying an armful of country brooms, each being merely a bundle of broomcorn'tifed around the end of a rough stick. We pass no end of mer chants, male and female, seated on the ground with broad, shallow baskets before them containing cakes and dulcesfor sale, or charcoal pots over which garlic-seasoned tomales are sizzling in grease. Others have gay feather dusters, made from the plumage of Patagonian ostriches; and the stock in trade of one or two are elegant robes of guanaco skins, a fine, soft fur of mingled MMnnw.. ..tlA linff fiH wllft llivn1it Ann. down toward the Straits of Magellan, and and then one is jo fortunate as to encounter an itinerant comerciante with some of those splendid robes made of THE BREASTS OF OSTBICHES, onvrrpd with, d7' and white feathers from to four to six inches long, .which are prepared byythe Patagonian Indians. I have suo 1 ceeded in capturing a beauty, about three yards square, which was originally intended to b"e worn as a dress by the favorite wife of auPatagonian chief. These feathery skins wearas well as furs, and nothing can be so beautiful for soft coverings, carriage robes or rugs. Arrived at the Polanco, we Jind ths Chil ean caballeros (gentlemen) out in full force on their prancing nags, exhibiting horse manship of which they have good reason to be proud. In this country horses are sel dom broken to harness, all the -teaming and hauling being done with oxen. The gear of the Chilean gentleman's saddle horse is a most curious and complicated affair. The bit is a long, heavy, flat piece of iron, which rests on the horse's tongue and presses against the roof of the mouth. At each end is a hole, through which is passed a long iron "ring about four inches in diameter, which encircles the lower jaw. At each side of the mouth is placed another iron ring, to which the reins are fastened. The entire mouth rigging weighs about five pounds, and if suddenly jerked is powerful enough to break any animal's jaw. The reins are made of finely braided hide or horse hair, and are joined together when they reach the pommel of the saddle, ter minating in a long lash called a chicote, at the end pf which is a small piece of lead, usually hidden in a handsome tassel. CRUEL TO THEIR nORSES. When not in use, the chicote hangs down the flank of the horse, often dragging on ground. Its joad of lead is usually heavy euough to furnish a weapon of defense and offense as formidable as a slug shot, and the poor horse is beaten unmercifully with it These soft-voiced, mild-mannered and ex cessively polite Chiienos are as cruel to beasts as to men. Horses are so cheap that even beggars may ride. A good native broncho can be bought fen S3 and his owner knows no mercy. The beasts are driven un til they drop and then fresh ones are sub jected to the same treatment- No care is taken to protect domestic animals or to make them comfortable. Although the winters in this latitude are cold to a degree of ice and snow, stables for horses and cattle are unknown. When their day's labor is done they are turned into a corral, or a pasture, or the street to seek their own food, and every year thousands of them die from overwork and starvation. I have seen a number of fancy bits made of solid silver and bridles plated with gold, with reins made of golden wire. Senora Cbusino the wealthiest widow in South America has one that is said to have cost $2,500. Those costing 51,000 or more are common in Santiago. The Chilean saddle is even more queer and complicated than the bridle. First half a dozen sheepskins are piled, one above another, on the horse's back; a leather strap is passed around them and firmly secured. Then comes a sort of skeleton saddle, or rather a piece of wood cut into the shape ot a saddle tree with a cantle at each end; on top of this are piled any number of sheepskins, or, if the owner is rich enough, rare and costly furs furnish tne seat, which is called a montura. ae four corners are fastened down by broad bands of canvas or leather. STATION AND SILVER. In Chile it is distinctly understood thai the amount of silver on a man's riding out fit indicates his station in life and naturally there is a good deal of competition in that direction among the swell caballeros. While the poor man's stirrup is a rude affair, hewed by hand out of a block of wood, as above described, his aristocratic neighbor uses one quite as heavy, but much more ornamental, made of brass or silver, usually in the shape "of a slipper. Those designed fer ladies are often made of solid silver, beautifully chased, and are a favor ite gift English manufacturers are able to produce these equestrian adornments so much cheaper than the native workmen, who have no labor saving machines, that nearly all are imported. When the rider is seated in the saddle, his legs are entirely concealed by the furs and sheep skins. If going-on a journey, he wears on his back a poncho, which bears no closer resemblance to that of the quaso than does the rest of hia outfit -It' is, about the size of the rubber blankets used in the United States and is woven of vicuna hair, or lambing wool, which keeps the wearer cool, for the sun's rays cannot penetrate it, and warm by night. It answers as well for au umbrella as lor an overcoat and sheds the rain better than rubber, because the oil hss not been extracted from the wool. The vicuna (the Andean goat) is yearly becom ing more scarce and nowadays a good poncho made of its hair is as rare as a camel's hair shawl, which it somewhat resembles, and is worth from 150 to S500. Thus you see that a fully equipped saddle horse for a Chilean caballero, with silver spurs, vicuna poncho, goio or silver mounted saddle and bridle, etc., represents an investment of $5,000 or more. It is considered the height of vul garity among the aristocracy to use com mon English saddlery and new ponchos, for in their families those almost indestruct able articles have been handed down from generation to generation, growing more valuable with age and usage. TRAFFIC BY LANTERN LIGHT. Beturning to the city in the twilight we notice that each sqnatting street merchant has lighted a tiny lantern and will doze over his wares till bed time. The police are being detailed to their different beats for the night They are divided into two forces, the-Vigilantes, who preserve order during the day, and the Serenos, who watch by night. Some are mounted, and all are armed with sabers and uniformed in coarse blue cloth. On no account is a Sereno al lowed to leave his beat until a comrade has responded to his whistle. A householder may send him in greatest haste to call a priest or a physician; but if either reside outside his particular district, he must pass tne message aiung turuugu ins next com rade. After 10 o'clock he cries the hours throughout the night in a prolonged sing song tone; and the presence of a belated person is announced by a shrill whistle, sounding from Sereno to Sereno. to nut all on the alert And, oh, the dojjs! they are the pests of the city of all kinds and colors, from the tiny Lucia poodle, a parlor pet whica Is washed and brushed every morning, to the homeless mongrels of mangy aspect and vicious propensities. They prowl about the streets and sleep in doorways, and hun dreds that hae no masters gather their food by night from the city oflaL One day, to our horror, a donkey fell dead in front of our door. "Wc wondered why the au thorities did Tiot immediately remove the carcass; but their negligence was explained when a horde of hall-perished dogs pounced upon it, and in a few pours no trace of the deceased animal remained. Fannie B. "Wabd. DAHGEB AUD ABT IK 'WHZFXINO. An Old Cycler Itegreli tho Introduction of .the Safety machines. Philadelphia Pre3.1 "I am heart and soul against the safety bicycle,' said an old wheelman. "I admit it is more useful and convenient than the now neglected 'ordinary.' But must every thing be reduced to terms of utility? Hid ing a high wheel was something of a fine art; it was pure and simple recreation rather bloody sometimes, with an after smell of arnica, but it had its rewards. It required grit and a certain bravery, and while you were sailing through mid-air on a 56-inch wheel you felt that you were of some importance. "These safeties any little boarding school miss or any superannuated old preacher can mount and ride. To go creeping along the road on one of these dwarfed wheels isn't much fun. Half the sport in bicycling was the dangerxionnected with it All that has disappeared." A Druggist Surprised. J. G. Bon, a druggist at Dunmore, Pa., says he has neyer sold a medicine that eave such universal satisfaction as Chamberlain's Colic, Cholera and Diarrhoea Bemedy, and that' the large demand for it has been a freat surprise to him. It is sold here by ru2git. wan THE GOSSIP OF PARIS. Nina Tan Zandt and the World's Fair People at the Capital. THE FEE1TCH HATE EUSS03TAOTA. Smokeless Powder May Sob the Soldiers of TheirEed Breeches. TOTTERING OP THE EIFFEL T0TY2B tCOBBZSFOXSXXCX OT THT DISrATCS.1 Paris, Aug. 23. Good Pennsylyanlana In Paris have their hearts warmed dally by the sight of The Dispatch at the rooms of the Anglo-American Bank. It matters little that the news Is ten days old. Tho paper's generous pages, liberal spirit, and honest expressions, after the stingy columns of tho Continental Journals, with their stranga languages and often inspired utterances, are as reviving as a sight of tho Stars and Stripes. I ought not to complain, however, of tho papers here. Tho oldest friend I have met was in the columns of a Parisian paper. I had stumbled through a long and thrilling description or suffering, done in the test French reportorial, when I met him a uni versal panacea, -The Amorican Shakers' Tisane" an out and out patent medietas advertisement Surely internationalism need not be agitated among charlatans, i Nina Van Zandt Malato "has registered here. Notice that Nina ia particular to wrlto infnll the name under which she won famo in Chicago. Her visit will he morepiquant for tho precaution. Few reporters would go on tho search for plain Madame JJalato. Hut Nina Tan Zandtl The fraternity in a body are after her. Another interesting American doing Pari is Frank Vincent, the traveler. This inde fatigable fellow, after trotting around tho globe it times, is setting out for Africa, which he expects to circuit completely, varying the line with little excursions In! land,; such as down tho Nile, up the Kongo, etc. Ho will add Madagascar to his intm eraryand browse around its coast for a time. We may bo sure 3Ir. Vincent wiil give us somo spicy writing of adventure and ob servation. Ono can forgivo a man for in cesant gaddinz when he turns it to so good an account as Mr. Vincent has his previous Journeys. The Americans most closolyfoUowed over hero at present are World's Fair people. They are feted everywhere. I ran across a body of lesser lignts on World's Fair busi ness the other night at a small Parisian hotel and watched them dispose of a long drawn out table d'hote dinner. The pro prietor had secured music for the occasion a woman with an accordeon. She played American airs with enough skill to wring showers of coppers from tho representa tives. The hardest American heart melts in this land at the sound of "Snwaneo Ktver." and "Hail Columbia" foil wed by "Anna-tea" are sure to leave the pocket dry and the eyes wet. Paris Is threatened with a severe attack of Bussomania. It is all on account of tho Franco Russian good understanding, of course. Tho Russian hymn draws tho wild est cheers from a crowd anywhere, and in the gardens, especially among the students, it Is demanded repeatedly and greeted wlta frantic uproar. The Provinces are in no way behind the capital in their enthusiasm. The fnnny man has begun to announce Ensoian novelties for tho winter: Puddlntrs a Li Tolstoi; turkey de la Cberonese: salads Itnsse; Neva cownv Doot3a la LouranoCt hats a la retour de Moscow. France, in fact, is noisy with delight oyer the fetes at Cronstandt andFortsmouth. Shs is gratified? too, that Austria and Germany take a generous view of her glory. Italy scowlsT Tobesnro. But Italy is not "in it" and is in debt AU these politenesses can not conceal tho faot that tho powers show ugly teeth in these smiling festivities. War seems to be a foregone conclusion. Even tho learned bodies tako it so; for instance, the nygiene Congress at London recom mends, in the present session, to tne govern ments that arrangements bo made to cre mate orr tho-battlefleld those killed In war. Of all developments on the subject, how ever, none seem to me so ingenuous as tha declaration of the Socialists of Brussels: War against war. An international strike on a declaration of war would certainly do something to cool the most bellicose. Tho Socialist Congress has been watched narrowly by tho French and until the last days it was thought there would no: be much done. The loud call for international ism and the enthusiasm with which tha French delegates adopted it,, has given a more seriou aspect to the session. Conser vative French thought dread? ideas -which will attract attention from tne conception of nationality which the Republic has been struggling so hard for. Tho Journal de Debate thus laments tha attitude of th French Socialists: "Is it not sad to think that the Idea of nationality, which has been the controlling ldeaoftbo nineteenth century, which has caused so many heroic struggles,wlth which the French Revolution was su inwrought, should to-day be set aside by representa tives of new ideai, and that in place of lib erty with which our fathers greeted the dawning of the age a great body of people from all nations should think of imposing upon humanity the brutal despotisms of an all-powerful Stater It Is a common enough thing In tha OH region for women to burn themselves to death by carelessness In using oil In build ing tires, but ono scarcely expects such things to happen in a land whra fires ara luxuries slowly budt and carefully used; yet a woman has Just died hero from burns caused by kindling a Are with spirits of wine in true oil region style. To quicken the blaze she dashed on the alcohol, tha liquid in the bottle canght fire, spread to tha her clothing and the horrible scene wa ara soiamiliar with in 'Western Pennsylvania was repeated In Paris. There are signs now and then oven In Paris that tho hours of service are to be shortened. Tho hatters of the city In ami cable conclave, employers and employes, have Just signed an agreement that after tho 1st of October shops will close at 9-.I0 p.m. on weokdtvsandatnoonon Sundays. The Socialists' Congress will not rub Its hands very heartily over tho announcement. Bus to people who belle vo that reforms are not made, but grow, the concession will seem worth something. It would be a pity of pities however, if wnen tho hatters -and those who initiate them cloo their stores evenings, they should put ont tho lights in their windows. Tho brilliancy and fascina tion ot the boulevards would be materially affected and nobody who has wandered through them would sen them lessened without regret. There has been considerable nervousness of late concerning the stability of tha Eiffel Tower. The feeling was quickened no doubt by the fato of Monsl.-ur Eiffel's bridge by which so many people lost their lives. Tha great engineer has made satisfactory assur ances, however, that it cannot fall and has shown. tils confidence) In them by taking the young King of Servla to tho top. This young King, by tho way, shows him self a good democrat. He dined yesterday at one of tha popular Dnval rostaurants where students and other economists, wno love neatness, good cooking and fair prices always go, and ho went with the crowd oa the first floor, too. Smokeless powder fa bringing a train of unforeseen trials upon the military people. The latest rumor is that the French soldier . "must give up his beloved red breeches. It has been found that tneoreecnes counteract by their brilliancy much of the good effects of tho smokeless powder. Gray or brown must be substituted. The authorities do not smile at the idea. It ia no laughing matter Tor even a great Kepubllc to buy 5, ooaooopalrs of new breeches. Ida M. Tabbxll. Would It Go Now? t The people who first settled in Pennsyl- vania were very decided against allowing sycophantic usages and anything like adu lation of the nobility to creep into their life. William Bradford, in his almanac of 1865 (or of the year 3979, in Koachian chron oo;y.ai h jfig an d it,)alluded to Tjord"Penn. and the Provincial Council very promptly made him blot it out of every copy of hia pamphlet -' d &Ms&tJ-cMi
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers