ti
Cbe Rome Reading Circle
IS BICYCLING BAD FOR THE HEART?
Health is Wealth.
THE SORArtTON TRIBUNE-MONDAY MORSTING, Jrjsra 14, 1807.
' " ' i i i w
1.v5dN ' mi,, 1"" maiA!-!
(Mini . 2uRA ' aVA jraU
IHE OIL OF TIME BUTTERFLIES.
By KATE UPSON CLARK.
Copyrluht, 1800, by the Uncueller Syndicate
PAItT I.
it was a large, bare Kou&e the only
one on the sandy Plrro Hill road. An
rtlr of desolation surrounded It, which
young: Mrs. Collls Wood felt painfully,
an she reined up her gentle pony In
front of It. Gloomy evergreen forests
covered the hill, and even the little
opening around the 1i6um looked dark,
though the sun was shtnlnrr.
She knocked at the door, and a stout,
middle-aged woman responded. Mrs.
Wood Introduced herself, nnd the wo
man gave her own name as "Mrs.
KeasVy Mrs. Thomas Keasbey"
with an air of pride.
"Perhaps you may know, Mrs. Keas
bey," Mrs. Wood proceeded, when they
were seated In the plain little parlor,
"that I have a class of girls which mtet
every Sunday afternoon In the school
houso Just at the foot of the hill here.
Some of us enjoy driving out. the two
miles from the village, and staying
there an hour then, and wo hope It Is n,
good thing for this neighborhood. I
have noticed when I have been driving
past hero that you have n, very bright
pretty girl. Wouldn't sho llko to Join
my class?"
In spite of the gratified expression
which the easy compliment brought to
Mrs. Keasbey's flabby, but not un
comely face, a flush of displeasure ac
companied It.
"It was our Dorllla you saw, prob
ably," the said with a nervous little
laugh, "but she's been to school n.
sight. Mr. Keasbey and I have trav
eled mostly during the last three or
four year?, and Dorllla has been In a,
convent down south not that we're
specially religious, for we ain't but It
v as a good place for her and sho liked
11. She took all the pr!zo3 there and
she rends most of the time now. She'3
most seventeen, and wo think maybe
she's gone to school enough. She's
sort o' odd, and wt want to get her out
of the way of It."
"Then wouldn't this be a good thing
for her?" urged the visitor. "Thero
ore several nice girls In this neighbor
hood who go there, and It would be
pleasant for a stranger like your Dorll
la to get acquainted with them."
"N no, ' dissented Mrs. Keasbey.
"We may not stay here very long. I
guess It ain't-worth while."
There was a pause. Mrs. Wood felt
as though she were expected to go, but
she decided to make another attempt.
"Perhaps Dorllla would really like
to come," she suggested. "Won't you
let me ask her?"
"I don't know where she Is. She may
be oft In the woods somewhere, and I
can't very well leave to hunt for her,
for Mr. Keasbey is homo now, and
I've got work to do. I reckon she don't
care to go."
At this moment the front door
wponecl, and Dorllla herself entered.
Her attire, like her mother's, was soiled
and tawdry, but beyond this there
was little resemblance between them.
Dorllla was tall and slender, and fatr.
Her black hair was as soft as silk,
and hung In a Ion braid down her
back. Her eyes were dark, and their
expression was almost wild, but hPr
rather large mouth and nose were well
shaped and Arm, and her whole bear
ing was quiet and pleasing. It was
no wonder that Mr. Wood had ob
served Dorllla Keasbey, when passing
the lonely house ctn Pine hill.
"See," said the girl smiling, as she
stood In the doorway.
She held out her round arm, from
which the loose sleeve fell away at the
elbow. Three palpitating white butter
Hies were ranged In a row upon the
delicate, blue-veined flesh, A fourth
was fluttering around the girl's head.
"Don't!" cried the mother, with a
half shriek. "Hush 'em off, Itlll! Put
em out doors!"
"Why, asked the girl, pulling away,
as her mother tried to push her. "They
like me and I like them -and they are
the sweetest things in the world."
At this point tine saw Mrs. Wood for
the first time, and Mrs. Keasbey per
formed the necessary Introductions, In
a reluctant manner which the daugh
ter could not fall to observe. She lis
tened with interest to the scheme which
tho sweet-faced visitor proposed, only
knowing the "other girls" were men
tioned. "I don't think I care much about
them," she said, with a warm gleam in
her dark eyes, "but I know I should
like you and 1 think I will go."
"You better ask your father first,"
her mother warned her.
"I think I can manage him."
"And you may bring your butter
flies with you," Mis. Wood said, smil
ingly. "I always carry one," said the girl,
uoberly. She rolled up ner loose sleeve,
nnd showed Just above her elbow, a
singular birthmark. It stood out
white, even against Dorllla's white
skin, and was of the general shape of
the common white butterfly.
"How strange!" murmured the gentle
visitor.
"Yes," said tho girl, "and I have al
ways chased, white butterflies ever
since I was born. I feed them nnd keep
them In my room and I suppose I tamo
them and mako them llko me in that
way. Hut I believe they would llko
roe anyway that there was something
between us. Don't you think that that
might be?"
"Perhaps so." replied Mrs. Wood.
In all the world there 1$ no other treatment
to pure,o sweet, so safe, aoapoody, for jire.
ervlns.jiurlfylng.ftna beautlfilng tboikln,
Malp, anil hair, and eradicating every hu
mor, m w.rji bath, with Ctmoniu 8oav,
and gentlo anointings with CTOCUUi. (olu
ment), the great tltlu ours.
It laid ttirourhent the world. 1?IT
M Soar., ttele raps., Uoston.
Lboul the akin. Scrip. and Ilslr,"free.
DIN. Chkm
M-" .ill About
3SVERY HUMOlt iStSffiS&SSS
BABY'S
SKIN
mticura
slowly. "At any rate It is a beautiful
omen. It betokens a white soul."
"In me?" questioned tho girl, halt
mockingly.
"Yes, you."
"Oh, you don't know!" she murmur
ed, bitterly.
"What did you say, mil?" demanded
her mother, suspiciously. "Take care!"
Mrs. Collins Wood felt uncomfortable
and rose to depart, more Interested In
this strange girl than ever.
"Then you will come on Sunday?"
she said.
"No," muttered tho woman thickly.
"She can't go and she knows she
can't."
Dorllla said nothing till she handed
the reins to Mr. Wood. Then the girl
Intimated that she mjglit appear at the
school house on Sunday afternoon after
all, and only laughed at tho rather
shocked and doubtful expression which
appeared on her visitor's face. She
drove away, with the vision in her
mind of Dorllla standing there In the
sunlight, with delicate, white-winged
things settling down upon her. Beside
thnt picture, tho sordid shackly house,
with Its vulgar mistress and its sinister
atmosphere, sank into significance.
Sure enough, on the following Sun
day, the girl appeared at the school
house, and after the lesson was over
and the others had left, she explained
to Mrs. Wood that she had come with
out he knowledge of her parents, "but,"
she went on, "It didn't make any dif
ference. A lot of my father's friends
came from the city' lust night, and we
had to get a big dinner for them this
noon. Father does some of the cooking,
and Mlkey and the others help. Mother
doesn't like to have me spoil my hands.
She and her father care a great deal
more about keeping them white than
I do and white they were eating, I
Just crept away. They think I am In
the woods for I go off there .by myself
a great deal. It's no matter, anyway."
"Oh!" '"breathed Mrs. Wood, still
somewhat dubious as to the propriety
of receiving Dorllla Into her class under
tho circumstances, and wondering why
these strange parents should wish to
keep tho girl cooped up by herself on
Pins Hill; but her delight In the class,
her evident love for her young teacher
and, as the Sundays went by, and still
she came, her high ethical perceptions
and her thurst for spiritual light, de
termined Mrs. Wood to let thlng3 go
as Dorllla wished. She said one day
to her: "It Is Just as I said, Dorllla
the omen Is true you have a 'white
soul. You nlway:i know what Is right
and see it more quickly than any of
the rest of us."
Again the mocking, half distressed
look came over the girl's face and her
cye3 filled.
"You don't understand," sho repeat
ed in a voice full of misery.
Mrs. Wood did not call again at the
houso at Pino Hill, but sometimes she
drove past it, on the chance of catch
ing a glimpse of Dorllla. One day sho
hart seen a man who was undoubtedly
Mr. Thoma3 Keasbey. He was a short,
thick-set man, slovenly, yet flashy, like
his wife.
Occasionally Mrs. Wood managed to
get Dorllla to spend an afternoon with'
her In the village. Then they had long,
affectionate talks, In which each told
tho other of the chief events of her life,
though DorllU was rather provoklngly
reserved in her accounts. Mrs. Wood
gathered, however, that sho had been
born on her grandfather's farm, a llttlo
way from New York city; that later the
family had removed to tho town, where
they had lived above Mr. Keasbey's
locksmith hhop; that they had periods
of prosperity, during which they had
iraveieu auroau, dressed well and had
everything. These had been succeeded
by times- of poverty. Dorllla spoke
most lovingly of the sisters at tho con
vent where she had been so long. "I
had been sick, ,but I grew well and
strong there," she said. "Oh, I loved
the convent so! If I were only thero
now!" She burst Into tears as sho
spoke, and sobbed long and passionate
ly. "Don't! Don't, Dorllla!" begged her
gentlo hostess. "You shake so and sob
so, you frighten me."
"Oh, you don't know," wept the girl.
"Don't know what? Aren't they kind
to you at homo?"
"Oh. yes. My father Is good to mo
and proud .that I h'ave had soma edu
cation. He somehow expects to be
come rich again', and then he will mako
a fine lady of me, he says."
As Mrs. Wood stroked tho girl's silk
en head, she cast about in her mind for
threadu of lecollectlon which might
unravel tho mystery of Dorllla's tears.
She remembered seeing once a pleasant-looking
young man sitting beside
Dorllla on the Pino Hill doorstep. Sho
had spoken often of a certain "Mlkey."
Could there be a love affair at tho bot
tom of this grief?
A few question? revealed tho fact
that Dorllla did, Indeed, cherish an af
fection for "Mlkey," which was disap
proved by her futher, who said that
"Mlkey" had no "nerve" and would
never "amount to anything."
"Hut ho Is a gentleman through and
through," Dorllla concluded, with di
lating eyes and blazing cheeks, "and I
shall never like anybody else half so
much. I know his name Isn't pretty
but neither is mine. Dorllla! It la tho
softest, sickest name I ever heard of.
My mother got It out of a novel. But
I must go.' Dorllla had stolen away
from home us usual.
"I wish they would not keep you so
closely," sighed Mrs. Wood. "Why do
you suppose they won't let you have
any friends?"
Tho girl's eyes assumed their most
unhappy and inscrutable look.
"I I don't understand mysejf," sho
stammered. ;'Maybe it is because wo
are so poor now and my father wants
to wait until wo can live better, before
we have friends. Good-by."
The girl Btooped her beautiful head
to receive the kiss which her young
teacher offered her. As she walked
swiftly away in tho direction of Pino
Hill, a white butterfly went dancing
along after her.
"I wonder," speculated tho happy
young wife, aB she stood watching tho
fair figure of the girl, and thinking of
the secret Just revealed, which she fan
cied explained Dorllla's excitement, "I
wonder If I am doing right in. asking
her so much to come here and all.
It seems as though It couldn't bo
wrong. At any rate, I will think about
It a llttlo longer before I make any
change."
One day, late In September, Thomas
Keasbey, who was at home oftener
now than during the summer, asked
Dorllla to do a strange errand, strange
event to her, who was accustomed to
stiange errands. She was expert with
her pencil. He wished her to visit the
rooms of tho Woman's exchange in the
village, buy a few articles there, and
take such notice of the rooms that she
could mako an accurate plan of them
afterward.
iThe Woman'e exchange rooms were
situated on the second and top floor of
what was called "the Bank block" in
the village. They were three or four
In number, and were under the charge
of a charitable organization of women,
prominent among whom was Mrs. Col
lls Wood. Preserves, sweetmeats and
needle-work were sold there, as In
most such places. In one room there
was a sort of an intelligence office In
another, a small public library. In the
summer thero was a good many city
boarders in the vicinity, who patronized
the exchange. It had been welll man
aged, and had more than paid for Itself,
besides aiding many poor women.
Directly underneath these rooms was
the village bank, one of the richest and
best-conducted country banks In. the
state. Mr. Collls Wood was tho cash
ier. He was a young man, but he had
grown up In the business and under
stood It thoroughly. He had married
the daughter of tho bank president.
Altogether, he possessed a social and
business standing second to nono in
the place.
Through a man who had assisted In
the building of the bank.Thomaa Keas
bey had ascertained that a steel ceiling
Just above it was topped by a layer of
cement, three feet In thickness. This
cement was as hard as .marble. Weeks
mlgh't be required, with the limit of
available hours per night, and with tho
only tools which could bo used In such
a case, to cut a hole through such a
ceiling, large enough to admit the body
of a man yet such a hole Mr. Keasbey
proposed to make. He load secured a
complete plan of the 'bank. Now he
must get the exact plan of the rooms
above it. His daughter, with her re
fined face, quick eye and skillful hand,
was Just the one to do the work un
suspectedit he could only get her to
undertake it.
PAItT II.
It was on a Saturday afternoon; that
Dorllla's father asked her to make her
self ready to go to the village. When
she had her hat and gloves on, h'o brief
ly outlined her errand.
"I am thinking of putting up a block
of buildings myself," he concluded,
with a wink at his wife.
"Then why don't you go to the peo
ple who built this, and ask them for
the plan?" she inquired, with th!a
cloudy look in her eyes which always
came when she was deeply moved.
"I can't afford It, you llttlo goose,"
he answered with a laugh. "They
would charge me big money."
Dorllla turned; slowly walked over
the hill to the village; did her errand,
and gave the plan to her father, having
finished It as soon as she was well con
cealed by the trees on her way home;
but she felt vaguely uncomfortable
over what she had done, and she went
back Into the woods after a little, and
sat thero on a rock thinking for a long
time.
In her thought sho lived over her
life again. She remonlbered how fond
ly she had adored her father before
she went to tho convent. During the
years there, she had seen little of him.
She had usually spent her vacations
with the sisters, wha had made a pet of
her. Now and then she had staid with
her father and mother at some hotel.
The quality of these hotels had de
clined steadily during the last two
years, and Thomas Kearbey had grown
glomy and Irritable. Still, when he
had come to the convent to see her he
had brought her beautiful presents.
and at the hotels, he had been fond
and proud of her, and sho had still
loved him.
This summer, however, during the
ten or twelve weeks since the Keasbeys
had moved Into the Pine hill house,
Dorllla's feelings toward her father
had undergone a change. He was still
kind to her and to her mother, when
he was himself; but he often drank
deeply especially when the live or six
friends whom he called his "business
partners" came out to spend the night
with him. Dorllla could dimly recol
lect such scenes far back in her child
hood, but she had not known them in
recent years, and they shocked her.
Her lessons In the school house had
lent a new force to moral convictions
formed in the convent. They and tho
Indirect Influence of Mrs. Collls Woods,
in those long, delightful talks which
Dorllla contrived to steal now and
then on a weekday, v were insensibly
altering the whole current of the girl's
thoughts. The Bqualor and confusion
of the shackly house on Pine Jilll an
noyed and chafed upon her more and
more. The utrnopliere ot tobacco
Vyfafttfj pLQg'Spa
smoke and rum which filled it when the
"friends" had been thero nauseated and
disgusted her. Her quick intuition led
her to believe that her father's "busi
ness" was not strictly legitimate. Tho
awful truth was only Just beginning
to dawn upon her, but all summer,
since she had come away from tho con
vent in early June, she had felt that
matters were not right.. The drunken
carousals, the oaths and allusions of
crime which her father always tried
to stop in her presence all the cir
cumstances which surrounded her, dis
tressed and mvstlfled her. Mrs. Collls
Wood often felt as though the girl
had In her an element of tho super
natural; but to Dorllla herself this ele
ment Becmer even stronger. She felt
like two people. She could not realize
that she was the same girl who had
chased the white butterflies In the con
vent garden, studler her lessons In tho
quiet school room, and built her fond
est hopes on the winning of first med
als. Now there was this awful secrecy
these coarse men coming to the house
at night always by night the con
stant injunctions to her to repeat noth
ing which she heard said to make no
acquaintances these expectations of
wealth In the near future and then
there was Mlkey, with his handsome
face, the love which ho had declared
for her and which she herself saw no
harm in returning and yet to which
her father was so unalterably opposed.
It was all so deeply confusing and be
wildering that It seemed to her like a
horrible nightmare.
That Saturday night, five of the
"friends had come for Sunday, and
there was a great supper to clear away,
Dorllla wiped the dishes In tho kitchen
for her mother, saying little or noth
ing. Then they both sat down for a
moment on the cool back steps. Pres
ently Mrs. Keasbey spoke chldlngly.
"What was you whispering and talk
ing so wlthm Mlkey for, RUla? You
knotf "
"Ves, I know," interrupted Dorllla,
Impatiently. "I'm 'tired of hearing
about It. I wish you would never men
tion Mlkey to me again."
Mrs. Keasbey fumed and fretted on
weakly, but tho girl made no further
reply. Suddenly a great white moth
came fluttering down out of tho dark
ness and settled upon her ruffled hair,
swaying his velvet wings back and
forth. The mother started as sho saw
It.
"Where did that come from, Dor
llla?" "Whero they always come from when
I'm around," laughed the girl with a
little note of triumph In her voice.
Mrs. Keasbey got up and went Into
then ouse. Sth hsafwlea tmhe thmah
the house. Sho was half-afraid of Do
rllla, when she was In this mood.
Twa terrlblo weeks followed. Tho
men remained at the house all the time,
sleeping by day and roaming abroad
by night. Two or three times the girl
questioned her mother, but Mrs. Keas
bey either answered nothing at all, or
In meaningless general terms, Tho
housework, even when performed after
that lady's easy methods, was a heavy
burden, though the men attempted to
help, and one of them, who was a baker
by trade, rendered considerable assist
ance. They drank more than usual,
and Mr. Keasbey was taciturn and
morose. Even Mlkey was nervous and
drank too much. Dorllla could not get
away on Sunday for the class at the
schoolhouse, nor any visit with her
teacher during tho week. She was in
wardly excited to the highest pitch.
It seemed as though she must go crazy.
On a certain Friday night, the crisis
came. For two weeks, every evening,
Thomas Keasbey and his men, gather
ing singly, from different directions
and at different hour, had effected, by
means of skeleton keys and other sim
ple tools, an entraco Into the room
which lay above the vault of the bank.
They had raised the carpet there, re
moved some planks, and bored Into the
adamant cement below them. I3y cau
toun and persistent labor, they had
now hewed out a Jagged hole In It,
large enough to admit them, one by
one, Into tho bank below. Tho steel
celling had been partially drilled
through. Every night, the dust and
fragments had been neatly swept Into
bags, the planks and carpet had been
replaced, tho doors and windows had
been securely relocked, and the great
burglary had been a little nearer its
consummation and Thomas Keasbey
had as yet no reason to fear that the
slightest suspicion had fastened upon
their movements.
That day the men slept long and
soundly. It was after six when they
assembled for their evening meal. The
October night was vrarm and close,
but they dared not have a curtain up
nor a window open. Dorllla and her
mother waited on them In silence. The
men were nervous and thirsty, but
Thomas Keasbey would not let them
drink much.
"We want clear heads tonight, boys,"
he said. "Dorllla, fill the glasses once
out of this bottle. When we got back,
maybe we'll have a little more."
They did not sit long at the table,
jH w ,, par
and Mrs. Keasbey and Dorllla, assisted
by Mlkey, cleared up after them in a
few minutes. Mlkey was very gentle
that night. Even Mrs. Keasbey, who
was always "short" with him, In spite
of his solicitous efforts to please her,
could not help softening a little when
she saw how deft and kind he was, but
when she marked the glances which
passed between him and Dorllla, her
anger rose again.
"It will take more than Thomas
thinks to part those two," sho mused.
But In her soul sho felt sure, after all,
that the Iron will of her husband would
effect his purpose. It did not seem to
her than anything could be stronger
th'an he.
Mlkey at last Joined them In tho par
lor, into which the door stood open.
Dorllla could hear that tho talking
which was going on there was excited,
though It was subdued in tone.
Mrs. Keasbey declared that she was
so tired she couldn't sit up a moment
longer, and pottered off to her room
upstairs. It was only 9 o'clock, but
t.he recommended that Dorllla Bliould
go to bed also. The girl obediently fol
lowed up the stairs and shut, the door
of her room "behind her. She heard her
mother moving about on the other side
of tho partition. Then all was silent
there, but Dorllla herself made no
preparations to retire for the night. In
stead, she sat by the open window gaz
ing Into the warm darkness, and lis
tening to tho rustling of the pines.
After awhile she went out and sat on
the stairway.
Thomas Keasbey had heard his wife
and daughter depart for their rooms,
and he supposed that by this time they
were sound asleep. He was therefore
talking unreservedly with the men in
the parlor. Dorllla could hear almost
every word which was said there. She
heard directions given for the use of
the explosives by means of which the
bank safe was to be blown open, and
what was to be done with the booty,
when the Job was completed and the
smoke had cleared away. Then words
fell from Mlkey which mado her blood
run cold.
"The cashier sleeps there now, while
all this monev Is there, as well as the
watchman. We can manage the watch,
man well enough, but two of them
won't be so easy and the cashier Is
likely to be an ugly customer that
Wood. They say he isn't afraid of the
devil himself."
"Mike, you're a fool!" Dorllla
heard Thomas Keasbey rejoin fiercely.
"What's that bottle of chloroform for?
puti 'uam anoj joj n jo uanoua s.ajoqx
It's no use. Then there Is that coll of
rope, and you ought to have three or
four good gags In your pockets, every
one of you. Tie his hands and eyes us
quick as you can and don't ask again
what vou will do with any man who
gets In- our way."
Dorllla heard allusions which showed
her plainly what use had been made of
her drawings. The whole terrlblo plot
stood revealed to her In all Its ghast
llnoss. She reproached herself for a
fool that she had not understood It
The Public
Knows a Good Thing
When It Sees It. . . .
That is why the circulation of The
Tribune is constantly increasing, and
why we are able to state the following
facts:
FACT 1 TllC TrlbUHO is delivered to more homes and business places
than auy other Scranton newspaper.
FACT 2 TllC Tribune Is, without doubt, tho best advertising me
dlum in Northeastern Pennsylvania.
FACT 3 The Tribune prints moro news and contains nioro exclusive
features than any of its competitors.
FACT 4 TllC Tribune consists of 10 pages daily, except Saturday,
upon which day a magnlllcont 10 page paper Is Issued.
FACT 5 TllC TrlbUUC contains no boiler plato or "patont" matter.
Every lino Is carefully selected and woll edited.
FACT 0 TllO Tribune has, since its birth, constantly set tho pneo
in the journalistic raco in this section nnd today has out
distanced all competitors. Tho Tribune leads, tho others
try to follow.
FACT 7 The Tribune is tl-o best nowspapor in tho stato, outside of
Philadelphia and Pittsburg. It costs but 50 cents a month,
delivered every morning before breakfast. Subscribe UOW
and get the best
Copyright, 1S97, by Mitchell & Miller.
from the first. Struck with a paralysis
or horror, she sat on the stairway, as
though she would never move again.
(To be Continued).
The Cut's Fault.
Father Tommy, stop pulling that
cat's tall.
Tommy I'm holding tho tall, tho cat's
pulling It. Life.
A 1UVEU IN ARCADIA.
Beneath Arcadian skies of bluo
lAnd romance haunted air,
Tho tangled mountain woodlands through,
'Twlxt moss-grown banks where mai
den hair
Uncurls its fronds of lacework rare,
From rock to rock and pool to pool.
Where light tho shadows quiver,
With depths all clear and waters cool,
From down the laughing river.
Here, whoro It widens broad and deep,
When Arcatly was new,
Tho Indian drovo with graceful sweep
His frail built bark canoe:
And, treading lightly to the brink
Of some deep shaded pool.
The stag, broad antlered, stooped to drink
The waters clear and cool:
Whllo played tho sunbeams to and fro
With many a glancing quiver,
And now In haste, and now mora slow,
Flowed on the ehlnlng river.
Slow loitering through the meadows
green,
As if to catch the gladness
Of sun-kissed grass ajrl emerald sheen,
Iteflcctfd back In eauness;
Then leaping llko a thing possessed,
A demon struck with madness!
From rock to rock a foaming swirl
Of waters sweeping down,
From bank o bank a seething whirl,
A curling torrent brown;
Till, prisoned in a depthless pool,
With many a rippling quiver,
Again serene, 'neath shadow cool
Flows on tho peaceful river.
The Century.
HOTELS.
THE MURRAY HILL
MURRAY HILL PARK,
THOUSAND ISLANDS.
The best located and best
furnished hotel on the St.
Lawrence river. Accommo
dations for 300 guests.
Opens June 25th, 18o7.
F. R. WHITE, Prop.
Glen Mountain Houso.
WATKIN8, BCIIUYLEIt COUNTY, N. Y.
On Heueca take. On lino of Now York Con
trnl, Pennsylvania, and Lehigh Valley Hail.
roads. 1,100 feet above boo. No malaria.
New water MorkH, supplying mountain
spring water. Sanitary plumbing. Entirely
new management. Splendid lUhlne. 000
ncres. Including tho famous Wiitlclns Glon
ropulur prices. Spcclnl rotoi for excursion
parties. J. It. KfcUNAN, formerly Hotel
Chamberlain, Mgr. Address W. K. ltOlJIN
SON, 1'rop.
DR. C. C. WEST'S
NERVE AND. BRAIN TREATMENT
THE ORIGINAL, ALL OTHERS IMITATIONS,
Ii soldnnder poaitivo Written iJaarontco,
by authorized wrapt only, to curs Weak Memory,
DizzlncM, Wakefulness, Flu, Hysteria, Oalck
nes9, Nisht Ixxgee, Evil pronmn. Leek of Contl.
donco, Norrousnoes, lassitude, nil Drains, Youth
ful Errors, or Excessive Uso of Tobacco, Oplnm,
or Linanr, which loads to Misery, Consumption,
int
Ine&nlt? odd Death. At etoro or 1)7 raalf, $1 n
boxt sir forthwith written ennrnutco to
3117 I
euro or vciuiiu money, ampieincK
nee, containing fivo unj:eT treatment, with full
Instructions, U cents. Ono sample only told to
oacn porson. At storo or by mail.
CSTRcd Label Special.
Extra bironpin,
For imnowncT. ixxit or
Power, Lost Manhood,
Htorlllt? or Barrenness.
Si n boxt six lor $3, rltl
written . Euaraaier
IjT iinr ' mi3... W IIBI.I
,niMM,l11Hah A
storo
jujvim-or,oymaii.
Win. Q. Clark, 326 Penn, Ave
a
Scranton Pa.
The Most
Delightful
SPRING
TRIPS
aro tboso by tbo haniliomo largo steam
ships of tho
sailing ovory week day from Now
York to OLD POINT COMFORT, VIR
GINIA BEACH AND RICHMOND, VA.
Hound trip tickets, covering a
health-giving sea voyage of 700 miles,
with meals and stateroom accommo
dations onrouto, for $13, $13.50 and
$M.OO.
SEND FOR PARTICULARS.
OLD DOMINION STEAMSHIP CO.,
Pier 26, North RtTer, New York.
W.L. dUlLLAUDEU, Vlce-Pres. & Traffic Miff
', 1
HOI CROWN ASPARAGUS
Fresh Every Morning.
DELAWARE STRAWBERRIES
Arriving Now.
Cauliflower, Green and
Wax Beans, Egg Plant,
Tomatoes, Etc.
t II Pitt PI ML III
I ROBINSON'S
Lager
Brewery
Manufacturers of tho CelobnuM '
CAPACITY!
100,000 Barrels per Annum
For Sale by Hill & Connell, Protheroa A
Co. and A. C. Stronc,
ntfmikl
REVIVO
RESTORES VITALITY.
Made a
1st Day,
Well Man
10th Day.
of Me.
int una 1 soth Day.
ruEiro3E3: xsLaajMnarrsr1
produce! tba nbore reault IrfSO dayi. It kU
powerfully ud quickly. Curt when all othori fltl
lou-g men will reftln their lost mtnbood. and old
urn will recover their youthful Tlgor by u.ltl
HE VIVO. It quloklyandnurelrrMtorciNerTou.
Bete. Lett Vitality, Inipote&cy, Nightly KmlMlou,
Leet Power, i'alllor Utmory, Yattln( Die tuti, aio4
all efltcU of atlf abUM or eictu and Indiscretion,
wblob unata ono for atudy, builntaa or marriage. II
not only cures by itartlng at tba teat of disease, but
Ii a crest nervo toulo and blood builder, bring.,
log back tho pink glow to rale checks end re
storing the Ore) of youth. It ward off Insanity
and Consumption. Insist on baling HE VIVO, na
other. It can ba carried In Teat pocket. By mall.
81.00 perpackage, or ill for 88.00, with a poali
live written guarantee to cure) or refund
tbo money, Circularfree. Address
ROYAL MFDICINE CO.. 63 River St., CHICAGO. llA
tor bale by MATTHEWS 111103, Otuv
cUt Sorantou, Pa,
r ftA
;L'mmm
inTn
KW
T!LLi
LD DOHIINQN
LI
s
Pin n
0
r r vrmLM-m -JMJi m r
, reyj'ttcoja
., .jij.. ,m --- u&m.-