iUL
r-rcpf Herald.
FaithiU TJoto DsatV
7 out-
f f Publication
I Wednesday morning at
J6 .1 ,n advance, otherwiae
r- i0 Vui I duKonUnued until
irv Poataiaater. n-
. -hen subscribers do not
f4 10 . wtli be held reiponaltl.
i , mat from on. po-tofflc to
.offl Address
5 . me r
J bulUiR, Fa.
Afiw1, somerset,
,-,.0, Kuppel.
A1 ,iuti i-eua'a.
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SiLS 0. K.1-MMLL,
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I SHJlilKlTset, i .
n, aiuiuo;ii up tours. En-
SjIlk-'iLN & C'ULBUliN,
Ai li'tv 1 1 s-A - A i
I Roiuerstl, Pa.
i aiiK. !n.rini i our care will be
.4lU.ll...- ...l.-u..fa U.. iXMlMO-
Ai loK.N t V-AT-LAW,
I : pa-i io Njiiu r t imJ djoiuiug
i a-t'E..'rH. W. U. ULTI'EI-
f .-ffiW'l'H Kl'l'l'KL,
AiiuttiS-Al-LAW,
rvomi-ruct. Pa.
te-atsrt:trttt'-d to tiwir are will be
W.CAliUTHItf, M. IX,
fMiuienset, l'a.
5a oc hag, Suvct, u iu.it B
S.P. F. SHAFFEli,
1 miaiLlA Aul"KUEO.
SMirut-ruel, Pa.
ilr h pnfn:,it'. rrv lew t Uie cill-
iiuki i'Li iu: s'.rviri.
f)H.J. M. LOl THKll,
liiiM'.'IA am. rBOEOX,
f-,!c iicttI, rar of lru store.
E. 6. KIMMLLL,
-t:i.piMS-i.!iiiii -n ioi-c to the citl
sui;ii.j .,;!:.iy. LntiMt jirw
": ..'-J ut-cui! fun at liia of-
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'' at"-uii. -n prrservxtioD
'." '''li. Ari.!;..-i Mts iunri-1rl.
r. j;rAli:(,i imL-Lviry. uMice
i . lui Mure,
-.tvfciiOp,ir:otfclr:i
- H. t'OFFKUTil,
Funeral Director.
Ai I'iiriut .t
IrK C FLITK,
Land Surveyor
5 2
"1 "5
2 5$
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5- 8
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VOL. XLYI. NO.
THE-
First Mom Bank
Somerset, Penn'a.
Capital. S50.QOO.
Surplus, S28.000.
o
DEPOSITS MCCCIVC M ttHSf AHDSMALl
AMOUNTS. PTLC ON OCWAMO.
ACCOUNTS OF MERCHANTS, rARkCftS,
STOCK DEALERS. AND OTHCRS SOLICITED
DISCOUNTS DAILY.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
CHAS. O. SCl-LL. GEO. R. SCCLL.
JAMES 1. PlHiH, W. 11. MILLElt,
JOHN K. SCOTT, ROBT. 8. SCULX,
FEED W. BIESECKER
EUWARI) HtXLXs : : PRrSlDEXT.
VALENTINE HAY, : VICE PKESIPI-ZNT.
HAKVEV M. BERKLEY, . CASHIER.
The funrtK and secarilios of this bank are e
eurely protected In a celebrated Cokuns Bck
olakPkoofSafk. Tue ouly aafe made abao
lutelv bun; lar-p roof.
He Somerset Count j National
ASM K
OF SOMERSET PA.
.-O: -
Etttbliitwd 1877. Orpnlztd ti i Nitloiitl, 1890
-O.
Capita!, - $ 50,000 CO
Surplus & Undivided Profits, 23,000 00
Assets, - - 333,00000
iO:
Chas. J. Ilarrison, - rrcsident.
Wm. II. Koontz, - Vice rresideni.
Milton J. Pritta, - - Cashier.
Geo. S. LTarriaon, Asa't Cashier.
XX
Directors t
Wa Endsley,
Jmiah S.-bt,
John H. Snyder,
Joseph B. Davia,
Chas. W. Suyder
II. C. BeeritH,
John Stufft.
Harrison Snyder,
Noah S. Miller,
Jerome StaCfl,
Sam. B. Harrison.
Customer of this bank will receive the mort
liberal irMlinentcoiisiI-nt Willi aa.fe4UkniK.
Parties wiUing to send money et or went
can be accommodated by draft for any
aimmuU . . ,
M'.nev and valuable seen red by one or I'ie
boid's celebrated safes, with most improved
iini lock
Coiiectious made In all part or the United
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A. H. HUSTON,
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A GOOD HEARSE,
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Jacob D. Swank,
Watchmaker and Jeweler,
Next Ooor West of Luthersn Chm-ih,
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I Am Now
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REPAIRING A
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J. D. SWANK.
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XEW YORK TRIBUXE.
Staunch in Support cf Republican
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WHOLESOME, BZEE2Y, IKSPISIITO A53
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lif ftajta' Cu 1 d .
THE TRIBtNE. New York.
Som
SOIERSET, PA.,
I TOLD HEE FAIRY SI0EIES.
I told her fairy u trial
In the old days long ago.
As we ns.sl to alt atevenlm;
In the flrHht' ambUnt glow.
fbe was a tiny maiden.
Yet she loved me then, I know.
When I told ber fairy atoriea
In tlie old days long ago.
I told her fairy torii
When we hvl oldr (crown ;
Those tale of love r.nd courage
That lovers long bave known ;
M'b-n we used to wab-h iJie Khadowa
Like a tlde'a Incoming fiow,
A ahe wbisjered that sbe loved me
I? Ibe old days Ions ag .
I tell her tiiry storicii
Alin-st ever evening now ;
But they've lout their old-time glamour
And we've changed about Mirnehow
Kor we've married one another,
Vet she loves me "till, although
Slic don't lielieve thestorte
As In tlie old duys long ago.
IbtchrMler Timet.
TILDA'S CHRISTMAS.
MARY AXGKLA PICKENS.
A ut.'ior of CciMrn CurrcntM, A Mert t'ijihrr, I'ria-
(HUT of tiUrHCf. dc.
From the riilludelphia Sunday Times.
It liegau in the summer time, one
twning in August, when 'Tilda, on
her knees, scrubbing out the dirty little
kitchen, was feeling as though fehe
could bear life no longer.
Quite suddenly she paused in her
work aud raised her grimy, tear-stained
face. Outside in the street a voice
had uplifted itself, not as the voices of
the dwellers in George Street were apt
to do, bat in song. Through the open
door and wiudows the voice floated;
with her scrubHug brush suspended,
'Tilda listened, spell bound. It was a
tenor voice one of those voices which
earry conviction to far harder hearts
than 'Tilda's. It was a startliugly
beautiful voice for a street singer, even
though it was worn and roughened
with hard usage.
'Tilda could neither analyze or criti
cise. But she . could feel. The song
was "The Devout Ixiver," and the
words passed over her head as though
they had no meaning. But the tender
rhythm of the music seemed to sweep
round her and wrap her away from all
her trouble into a very heaven. The
song went on. 'Tilda's white lips
parted in a smile of positive ecstasy,
and she scarcely breathed. Her great
blue eyes shone. She had heard no
music such as this in all her life. It
seemed to her something too beautiful
to belong to this world.
Tlie song drew to 'its end; the last
lonjr lingering notes died away; and
then, for 'Tilda, silence fell upon the
world. .She did not hear the noises of
George Street as they reasserted them
selves. She had forgotten ber work.
She knelt od, motionless, gazing away
into space and seeing nothing.
Such proceedings were not to be in
dulged iu with impunity in the house
of Gilkes, aud a torrent of language
and a box on the ears roused 'Tilda
from her dream. But she fell asleep
that night with the voice ringing in
her ears. AH the next day she listen
ed and longed. Would tlie singer come
back? Should she ever hear the song
ag tin? Seven, days had gone by, and
stie was dragging wearily up aud down
George Street late in the afternoon with
Ui!!y Gilkes, the baby, in her arms
when she started so violently as almost
to drop her burden, and a wave of
burning color flooded her face. Away
belli ud her at tlie end of the street tiie
voice was nxing again.
The dirty, sun-parched street disap
peared from before her eyes. Billy was
no longer heavy. She was no longer
tired. She turned involuntarily and
moved, drawn by those long sweet
notes, up the street toward the singer.
He was a tall man, gaunt aud thin.
His face was pale, and there were hard
and bitter lines about it; lines of de
gradation, too. His features were well
and strongly cut; he had grey eyes
which even sullenuess and cynicism
could not wholly mar; aud his rough
hair fell over the true musician's fore
head. 'Tilda, standing close beside
him, with Billy clasped to her, and her
eyes fixed rapturously on his face, saw
nothing of this. Every sense but that
of hearing was in a trance. When the
song ended, a sigh of exquisite regret
aud satisfaction came from her, and he
turned and saw her. He looked at her
for a uiotuenl in silence, and when be
spoke it seemed to 'Tilda inevitable
that the lips from which such sounds
issued should smile kindly. There was
something in his eyes, too, which
struck her vaguely as being just right.
"You like that?" he said.
'Tilda nodded. He looked at her for
an instant longer, aud then he began
to sing again. 'Tilda was crying, when
he stopped, tears of pure happiness.
Thin time he spoke to her roughly.
"You little fool!" he said. "What's
that for?"
"Tilda wiped her eyes on Bill' torn
frock.
"I don't know," she said falteringly.
"H tven't you anything real to cry
for?" he said, scanning her attentively.
'Tilda's answer was written in her
eyes and on her quivering lips.
"Poor little girl!" he muttered under
his breath. "Poor devils, all of us!"
Aud with an indescribably bitter twit
of his thin lipi he suddenly broke iuto
"The Devout Lover."
A little crowd had collected by the
time he had finished, and sundry half
pence were bestowed upon the singer.
'Tilda had not a half-pen cy in the
world, and she wcmld not have dared
to ollVr it had she had one. But he
looked at her again before he moved
away, with a sudden smile of farewell,
which brought a faint, uncertain reflec
tion of itself to 'Tilda's wan face.
After this there catne for Tilda near
ly a fornight during which she lived in
a veritable seventh heaven. Almost
every day the singer came, and always
during that time in the late afternoon
which was devoted to the airing of
Billy. This was so wonderfully lucky
Tilda told herself, in al:not awestruck
surprise at herown good fortune. She
was almost always able to be in wait
ing at the corner. Or if she chanced
to be so far away as the other end of
the street, the first sweet, penetrating
notes reached her instantly. Once or
twice the whole afternoon and evening
0 Tv
KSTABLISHED 1827.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22. 1897.
wore itself away in blank silence. He
did not come. On the afternoons fol
lowing thet9 occasions 'Tilda would
station herself at the corner with her
face quite drawn with suspense. And
when he did appear the glow of light
which transformed it was positively
radiant. He looked at her keeuly the
first time thh happened, and he began
to sing at on,je without speaking.
They knew each other well by this
time, though they did not seem to talk
much. A few brusque questions had
put the man in possession of the sim
ple facts of 'Tilda's life. And though
he told her nothing about him if,
'Tilda understood in some mysterious
way that he too was unhappy rnd
lonely and very poor. It seemed to
her to make a bond ltween them,
and side by side with the awe with
which his voice inspired her there
grew up a pathetic little impulse of
pity. He had a cough, and she used
to ask him how it was, and to recom
mend simple remedies, timidly enough,
indeed, but with a touch of anxious
solicitude which suggested a woniauly
sense that a man is but a poor helpless
creature after all.
It was a dull, chilly evening when
Tilda's short-lived spell of happiness
came to an end. Tilda had cast many
anxious glances at the sky, fearing lent
rain should drive her to take Biily in
doors.' But the singer came first, and
it seemed to Tilda that his voice was
more wonderful than it had ever been
before. He sang on and on, with only
the shortest pauses, In which he did
not seem inclined for conversation,
and at last he stopped abruptly.
"I'm giving you the whole lot to
day," he said. "I shan't be here again
yet."
The light went out of Tilda's face,
and she stood gazing at him over Bil
ly's flabby person with wideeyes. She
did not speak.
"I'm restless," he said, and an odd,
wild gleam lit up his eyes. "I'm
going round the country for a bit sea
side." Still 'Tilda did not fpeak. Her lips
were quivering a little. He spoke im
patiently, but whether the impatience
was for her or for himself might have
been a nice q'testiou.
"Come, corneT' he . said. "You
musu't take it to heart. I shall come
back and slug to you again, yoa know.
and you must be a brave little soul
aud keep up your heart- See?"
'Tilda nodded. The conditions of
her life had stunned all idea of lamen
tation or appeal in her, and she made
no protest now. But she sat down
suddenly on a doorstep, and w ith one
glance at her he began toning. When
lie had finished he turned to her.
"Now I must go," he"said. "Good
bye for the present, lit Je thing. He
hesitated a moment. "Tjen he held
out his hand, and she laid her small
lingers in it.
"You'll mind your cough?" she said
faintly and appealingly. And he went
away.
In the unbroken discord and ugli
ness of the days and weeks that fol
lowed, the misery of her life closed
rouud 'Tilda like a dens- fog of despair.
Whether matters had really grown
worse during that fortnight, or wheth
er the temjtorary lightening of her
wretchedness made it seem worse now
that the darkness had settled down
again, she did not try t decide. But
as the winter drew ou there is no doubt
whatever that all her troub'es were
very definitely accentuated. The cold
weather came early, with bitter rain
and piercing winds. Summer in George
Street had b-.-en bad enough, but there
had at least been aix outlet in the sum
mer time, T.te whole Gilkes family
had seldom assembled under the roof,
except to sleep. 'Tilda herself could
escape from the vigorous tongue aud
hand of her step-mother, if it were
only to overtax herself by carrying Billy
about. 15.it now no such escape was
possible, unless accompanied by acute
physical discomfort. Even the wet
weather, however, was not so bad as
that which succeeded it blr k, biting
frost.
The cold was such as had not been
kuown for years, and George Street,
suffered acutely. Everyone was oui
of work. There was very little food,
7ery little fire.
November gave place to December,
and still the frost held. Of the singer
there came no sign. For many a long
day and week 'Tilda had hoped and
believed that he would come back, and
she bad longed until her poor little
heart was sick with louging, to hear
his voice again. But as Christmas
drew nearer, bringing uo touch of the
Christmas spirit iuto her life, leaving
her outside all hope aud happiness,
she sank into something like apathy.
There was no help for her anywhere in
the world, she felt, dumbly; the singer
would never come back; and even
Christmas held nothing for her.
She had been sent oue afternoon by
Mrs. Gilkes to see if she could get a loaf
of bread on credit from any of the
neighboring shops.' She was return
ing empty-handed, w ith dragging, re
luctant steps, dreading the blows which
assuredly awaited her failure eveu more
than she dreaded the jpiercing cold.
Her head was swimming a little; it
often did so in these drys. And ber
ears were ringing with one of the
carols she had sung bo often and so
happily the first verse over and over
again:
"Hark, the herald angels sing.
Glory to the naw-born King;
Peace on eartB and mercy mild.
Hod aud sinners reconciled."
She turned a Corner and ejddenly
stopped abruptly, clasping her thiu
blue hands involuntarily over her beaut. '
The first verse of the carol was no long
er ringiug in her ears. But away iu
the distance the second verse was
rising:
"Mild, He lays His glory by ;
. Born that man no more may die ;
Born to raise the sons of earth.
Bora to give them second birth.
She was not far from George Street.
A few moments' headlong run, grow
ing swifter as the voice gre clearer,
and she reached the corner.
There in the darkness of the winter
afternoon stood the singer.
Tilda did not move when once her
eyes rested on his figure. She wm
rather behind him, and she stood to
kenless, her hands tightly clasped, her
ID
face transfigured, until he had finished.
Then, hardly knowing w hat she was
doing, she went towards him, and he
turned and saw ber.
"Ah, little thing." he said. "There
you are."' He was terribly altered.
As 'Tilda's eyes rested on his face and
saw the sunken cheeks and hollow
eyes, her heart seemed to stop beating,
He had come back; come back at
Christmas, with a carol on his lips;
but he spoke feebiy, and wit!i little
gtsps, and 'Tilda realized as she had
not done in her first wild joy that the
notes of the carol had been husky and
broken.
"Oh," she cried, "you've took ill'"
He smiled a little.
"Yes," he said. "I suppose I have.
Did you think I was never coming
back?"
"I-didn't know,"- faltered Tilda.
Joy and distress were fighting for the
mastery, as she looked at him until she
felt quite faint. "Oh, are yu very
bad?"
He made a slight gesture of indif
ference. "It's all right," he said. "And w hat
have you been doing with yourself?
Starving, by the look of you. Father
out of work?''
'Tilda nodded:
"I don't believe as you ought to be
out," she said.
He looked at her with an odd ex
pression in his eyes.
"I told you I would come and sing
to you again," he said.
"Have you got far to get back?" she
persisted earnestly. "Where do you
live?"
"At Marmaduke Buildings," he re
turned lightly. "But I d n'l think I
shall be there long, Tilda."
He was interrupted by a fit of cough
ing which left him white and shaking,
aud brought the tears into 'Tilda's
eyes.
"You'll go home now, straight," she
pleaded, "and have a cup of hot tea?
Do!''
"Very well," he said. "Good-bye,
little tiling." He took her hand and
held it close for an instant, looking at
her again with that oil expression.
He ha drpied her hand and turned
away, when he took a shilling out of
his pocket and closed her fingers over
it.
"Don't make a fuss!" h said hur
riedly. "Carol-singing pays, you
know." And then be was gone.
He did not come the next day, and
Tilda tried bravely to possess her soul
in patient. Neither did the day fol
lowing briug him. And on the thrd
day Tilda could bear herself no longer.
The recollection of his thin, white fa,
his cough, his feeble voice, haunted her
day aud night. He was ill, she knew;
he was lonely, she felt sure; what if he
were lying ail aloiu this Christmas
time, with no one to take care of him ?
What if he should die, and site should
never see him again ?
It was with these two thoughts drag
ging at her heart-strings until she hard
ly knew herself that 'Tilda's resolution
was taken. When all chance of his
coming on that third day was gone by,
she moved from the corner at the top
of the street where she had wailed for
him heedless of the icy cold, and turn
ed her back on George Street, with her
face white and set. Slie wvnt out iuto
a main thoroughfare, a id there she
tapped and spoke to a jioliceman.
"Please, Where's Marmaduke's Build
ings?" she said.
Tlie policeman loukid at her cur
iously. "Don't know the name atiout here,"
he said. "There's a Marmaduke's
Buildings at Notting Hill."
"Which is the way?" eaid Tilda.
He gave her some directions, and
told her to ask again, aud Tilda thank
ed him and set out.
It was a long way. To 'Tilda, unus
ed to Loudon except as represented by
the immediate vicinity of George Street,
it was a journey fraught with difficulty
aud danger indeed. The streets, fall
and bustling with Christmas tra:'b
bewildered her. The lights and the
darkness alike confused her, and the
noij made her giddy. Again and
again she lost her way, and had to re
trace her steps. Again and again she
asked for directions, only to think des
pairingly that her d-jslbiation was as
far off as ever. She was s'.itr with cold
and faint with weariuess when at lat
her tremulous question was answered
by the words:
"There y'are. IVght oppersite."
It was a w retched -looking place, a
dirty, tumble-down court. Bat this
was a matter of course to 'Tilda. Site
hal always known that be was vtry
poor. She crossed the road to the en
trance to the court, and then she l.vsi
t tted a moment. Her purpose held as
strong as ever, but it had suddenly oc
curred to her that she did not know his
name. It was late in theevening now,
n -arly nine o'clock, and it happened
that there was nobody about at thisend
of the court, though away in the dis
tance two or three men were standing
about. But at this moment a little J
child with a jug in his hand ran out of j
a door close to her.
"There's a siuger lives here," said
Tilda, as he passed her. "Which house
is it?"
The child stared at her for a moment.
"Him as goes round the streets?" he
Slid. "On your left there. Top back."
Then, being in too great a hurry to in
dulge his evideut curiosity, he ran on.
The door of the house he had pointed
to was only half closed, and without a
moment's hesitatim 'Tilda pushed it
open and went in and up the stairs.
She met nobody, though she heard
voices asof women quarreling and chil
dren crying. Up she went, until she
left the voic?s behind, and stood bifore
the door ol tie top back in a deep
silence. She knocked softly. There
was no answer. She knocked again,
louder this tima. Siill there was no
answer; not a sound within the room.
Tilda opened the dr and went in.
There was uo light w ithin the rmiii
itself; not even a gleam of tire, and it
struck deadly c-old. A ray from the gas
lamp outside was all that Tilda had to
guide her, except a feeble, husky voice
which, from a corner of the room, seem
ed to be trying to find the notes of a
Christinas carol. "Hark, the herald an-
ar-ls siug." If 'Tilda had stopped to
think about the matter, It would have
TT 1 1
I-A JUL . -U- VyU Ncy
seemed to her that she had kn jwn all ,
the time how it would be But she did
not stop to think. She groped her way
until she found a box containing two
or three matches and an end of caudle,
which she lighted. Then, with the
caudle in her hand, she turned to the
corner from which the voice came.
The singer was lying, dressed as she
bad seen him la.st, upon a ragged, dil
apidated led. His face was flushed
and drawn, and his eyes were wide
open. For an instant, as she met them,
Tilda's heart seemed to leap in her
throat; thy looked so much as if he
"was himself," as she expressed if.
Then she understood that they did not
see her. The hoarse, faint notes of the
carol went on and on.
A strange little quiver of indescriba
ble, he. rt-hriken feeling passed across
'Tilda's face. It left her features alert,
resolute, capable -looking as they had
never been since she took up her resi
dence iu George Street, There was one
little sobbing sigh, and she wasted no
more time in looking at him. She turn
ed, aud holding the candle above her
head, surveyed the wretched room.
It was not dirty. Htr quick ye, go
ing back to her grandmother's train
ing, saw that in a momeut. It was only
hopelessly poor. There were dead ashes
in tlie grate, and by the side of the
hearth stood a brokeu hx with a few
bits of stii-ks and coal. This was what
'Tilda was looking foe. In a few mo
ments mre a cheery little fire was
burning.
Then 'Tilda went oack to the bed
side. The carol had died away into an
incoherent mumbling; the eyes were
shut, and there was a look of heavy un
consciousness about the whole fa:e
which frightened her. With the i:i
stiuct of semi -starvation, her first,
thought wad to give him food, and she
looked about the room again in search
of anything to eat. On the one talle
was a piece of bread and a jug contain
ing milk. lijt the bread as she touch
ed it was hard and dry and the milk
was sour. There seemed to be nothing
else, and her intention being thus frus
trated, Tilda's thoughts took a new
turn.
"He'd better have the doctor," she
said to herself. "That's the best."
She went out of the rm and down
the stairs, and at the bottom she paus
ed. She did not know where the near
est doctor lived. She had no intention
of wasting time, and she had just made
up her mind to knock at the nearest
door and ask directions when a woman
pushed open the front door. To her
Tilda put her question.
The woman was a tousled, dirty, un
comfortably stout rierson, but she hap
pened to lie in a high g'KKl humor, hav
ing just come in for a substantial
Christmas dole. She made 'Tilda ex
plain the situation at some length, and
eyed her curiously.
"What! 'im upstairs?" she said.
"'E keeps hisself to hisself, he does,
and that's wot comes ou it, yer see.
"'E's been a lyiu' there these three
days, like 'nougii. An' you're a frieud
of 'is? Lor! Well, you run along to
Dr. Mason, third turning ou your left,
first 'ouse, an' see if 'e'll come."
'Tilda was gone iu an instant. She
never stopped to take breath until Mie
found herself at her destination con
fronted with a geutleintin who was in
the act of opening the door with a
latchkey.
"Please, are you the d?tor?" gasped
'Tilda.
"I don't know how you think you're
going to get your fees, let alone other
things !"
The speaker was the sing -r, a:id the
day was Christmas Eve, a fortnight
later. The singer, gaunt and pale, but
with returning strength in his voice,
lay in his bed. By his side stood the
doctor, and at the foot of the bed was
'Tilda, a surprisingly neat and trim
little 'Tilda, though palo aud thin, for
she had tidied her Lair aud her dress
on the day w hen the siuger recovered
consciousness, and she had kept up the
habit.
The doctor was a young man with a
strong and kindly face. He laughed at
the somewhat grim observation.
"It wasn't my fault that you didn't
go iuto the hospital, you know," he
said. "Bat we've pulled J-'J through
that's the main jaiint thanks to
your little nurse."
He glanced at 'Tilda as bespoke, and
a rosy flush of delight spread over her
face. But the singer moved uneasily.
"Tilda," he said, "do you mind o
lusr downstairs for a bit? I've some
thing to say to Dr. Mason."
But when the door was shut upon
her the singer did not speak. The Doc
tor walked away to the window, and
there was a lone silence. It was bro
ken at last by Dr. Mason. He turned
abruptly to his patient:
"Look here," he said; "there's no
need to tell me anything. You've been
delirious you know, and I know the
kind of story. Will you take another
chance if it's otlered you? That's all I
want to know."
The singer was lying with his face to
the wall, and he did not turn round.
"Yes," he said.
"Then I'll see that you have it. It
won't be much, you know not the
right thing but it will keep you."
"And Tilda?" said the singer stretch
ingout his hand, still without turning
his head.
"And Tilda," said the doctor laying
his hand iu the thin fingers.
The doctor was gone when Tilda
came in again, and the sinsrer was
lying very still. She had a little basket
in her band and a sprig of holly.
"I met the dUtrict lady downstairs,"
she said joyfully, "and she gave me
these. There's jelly in the basket, aud
oranees. and all kinds! You'll have
a bit of Christmas after all P'
The singer moved.
"Tilda," he said, "come here and sit
down."
"Tilda obeyed, carrying ber holly in
her band.
" Tilda," he said, "have you ever
thought of what will happen when I
get well?"
She started painfully, and the color
died slowly out of her face, leaving it
very white. Through all the days of
his illness she had lived from hour to
hour, and the future had no existence
for her.
He felt ber hand begiu to
Li. O
WHOLE NO. 2121.
tremble, and his fingers clod sudden
ly round it.
"We shall te married, Tilda," he
slid. "That's what will happen,"
And, afier ail, this was what Christ-,
mas had held in store for 'Tilda.
Tlie Carse of a il other.
T'vo weeks a so, Jeph Williams,
fireman on the Northern Pacific Coast
passenger train, in a moment of insan
ity threw himself into the firebox of
his locomotive, aud was instantly burn
ed to death.
The frightful manner in which Wil
liams ended his life brings tJ light the
fact that he was the victim of a woman's
curse. It was stated by railroad men
that the fireman was running the
switch t-iigine in the Mandan (N. D. )
yards at tlie time a younggirl was run
down and crippled for life. She subse
queutly came into prominence through
the apjieals of her friends for pontage
stamps, w ita which to enable her to
procure arihiciul li'nbs. The mother
of the Kir!, who appeared in tlie yard
very shortly afierllie accident, assailed
the yourg engineer .with all tlie lan
guage at her command, and finally
wound up w ilh:
"May tlie Gisl alxive us, that loves
my girl, end your days in the firebox of
your own engine!"
Til is was several years ago, but th
words ring in the ears ;if th" man w ho
recently leaed into the furnace to his
death. He could not forget the words;
they were with him constantly. He
seemed to hear them rcjieated every
moment, and it was the mother's curse
that fi:iul!y drove liiui to take his life.
It was an irresistible impulse that came
over him on that ftal morning when
h was on duty in the fireman's cab;
the fire charmed him. There was in
the biae a sort of fascination that im
pelled li i in to make his death bed in the
live e ais.
Deafness Cannot be Cared
by I.ical applications, as they can not
reach the diseased portion of the jar.
Tiiero is only one way to cure deafness,
aud that is by constitutional remedies.
D.-afntss is caused by an inflamed con-
liiioti of the mucous lining of the Eu
stachian Tube. When this tulie is iu-
tlarned vou have a rumbling sound or
iiijierfcct bearing, aud when itisen-
irely closed, Deafness Ls the result.
and unless the inflammation can be
taken out aud this tube restored to its
normal condition, hearing will be de
stroyed forever; nine cases out of ten
;tre caused by catarrh, which is noth-
ng but an inil lined condition of the
mucous surfacts.
We will gi'e O.ie Huudred Dollar-
fr any casi of I.?afncss (caused by
catarrh ) that can m t I cured by Hall's
Catarrh Cure. Seisl for circulars, free.
F. J. CHENEY t CO., Toledo, O.
t-ild by I)ruL-i;i.st.s, T"c.
Washing the Faca
T:ie method of wa-hing the face daily
is of great importance; as even if ne
nly washes it tw ice a day the operation
has to lir- gone through 70) times in the
ci:r-e of a j e ir, and this would natur
ally atr-ct it fir k1 or evil. Highly
scented or highly colored soaps should
avoided, and one which gives asofi
ather and d es not cause any fee-ling of
rritation is the lust. The s ):p should
be well rubbed into the face with a
clean piece of flannel, and then bathed
o:r in a basinful of absolutely clean wat-e-,
so that every p vrt i;:Ie of ap may be
removed. After thoroughly bathing.
the face should be dried with a Turkish
towel, and then, if the skin l; coarse
aud thick, it may lo rubls-d with a
r u j;h towel, b.it if tlie skin is at all sen
sitive a very sof; towel should be used,
arid tlie faiv finally well rubbed over
with a piec-of chamois leather. Gentle
fr'ction of the face with fi leather, or,
better still, with tlie finger tip, when
c'.ean, tends to remove lines and to pre
vent the formation of wrinkle.'. Iflines
have f r;ii"d the skin should be rubbed
in a direction contrary to their length,
as, for example, if there aie vertical lines
between the two eyebrows, they should
be rubbed from side to side; if there are
straight lines across the forehead they
should be rubletd down from tlie hair
tothc root of the nose and back again
Consumption TositiYeij Cured.
Mr. Ii. II. J.v-jve, m-rc'iant, of Chil
horuie, V.u, certifies that he ha t coa-
su:np!i'Ki, was given up to d.e, sought
all medical tr.-ituu-ut that ni iuey ciuld
pr.ie'ire, tried all cough remeli-s he
coul l h"ar of, but g"t no relief; spent
many nights sitting up in ach-air; was
induce 1 to try Dr. King's New Discov
ery, and was c i red by use of two b it-
ties'. F.r past three years has beeu at
tending to b ishiess and says Dr. King's
New Disc very is the grandest remedy
ever m i-be, as it lias done so much for
him and also for ot'.iersin his commun
ity. I).". King's New Discovery is guar
anteed forCoughs, Colds and Consump
tion. It don't ftil. Trial bottles free
a J. N. Snyder's Drugstore, Sooierset,
Pa., and G. W. Brallier's Drug Store,
Berlin, Pa,
Itu-isia serves its national soup of beef,
boiled cabbage, sour cream, and fer
mented be juice, aud it is ready to be
eaten at any time during the day. A
huge roast pig served witn boiled buck
wheat, cooked with liver and the heart
of the pig, is the principal dish at din
n r. With this ts eaten a cheese cream
ed with butter, sn-jnr and raisin and
colored eggs also grace the board.
Rheumatism Cored-
"My husband has bad rheumatism
and could t.ot rest at nigh?. His hands
were drawn out of shape aud he did n t
have much use of them. H-j could
searei'ly wal'i. IN began taking Hood's
Sar.saparilla an I afier the use of a few
bottles is all right and is able to rest
well at niht." Mrs. A. L. Ogden,
Clearfield. Pa.
Hoods Pills cure all liver ills. Mailed
for 21c. by C. I. H d & Co., Lowell,
Mass.
In Spain thy are fond at holiday
time of a soup made of sweet almonds
cream aud a fish first roasted before the
fire and basted with lemon, garlic and
oil.
Tl. N" Haven friends of Miss L l
ciii la D ty Ic-urned receutly of h-r d ath
in Springfield, Mass. She was years
old and a representative of one of tlie
l lest families iu New England. She
had lived all her life, with the excep
tion of a fewyearsspent in New Haven,
in the old Day homestead.
Miss ly was the eldest daughter of
Airmt Day and was born November ,
lslO. The old bo:nest"ad is near Park
Church, in West Springfield. It is a
q iaint old h'Hise, a landmark in the
town, aud was uever shown to visitor -i
without the accompaniment of a roman
tic story of love aud constancy.
Seventy years ago Miss Day had a
love atfair. The lover was a sailor; on
his departure for his last voynjre, Miss
Day pr j uis ' 1 1 pi tcj every niht a
lighted candle in the window to greet
him if he returned by night. He never
returned, bu'. Miss D ly never abandon
ed hope of seeing him agtiu and last
niht was the first in several years that
a caudle has not shone In the window.
It was because the hand that so faith
fully performed that duty was old iu
death.
Mrjs Day was tlie eldest of six chil
dren, all of whom lived to more than
t te allotted three-sore an 1 ten years.
Her early life waastw-nt at home, where
she was edjMted lr the p iWic an 1 pri
vate schools. After her maturity she
taught school for some time at lliver
dale. Later she came to New I laven to
coutinue her studies. While here she
started a small private school which
she con lu.'ted f r aluul a year.
Miss Day was up and a'oout until
within a few days of her death, al
though she suffered a stroke of paraly
sis a few years ago. Her list illness
was but of a few days duration. She
leaves three sisters Miss Lydia Oakes
and Mrs. Eunice ftlist, widow of Israel
Bliss, both of whom restdid w ith her in
the old homestead, and Mrs. Aiinanda
Mussel!, of Amherst.
A brother and sister died several
years ago. She also leave's two cousins
Professor Diy, of Yilo T'.pMlogie d
S hoot, Horace Diy, of New Haven.
Hie old Day homestead is one of the
iibist picturesque places in town. It
was built in 17.il by Miss Day's Kreat-
grau Ifather, Josiah Day, on land own
ed by the first minister of that vicinity.
rraditioa say that back of the house
was an underground passage running
for some distance away to the river. 1 1
was supposed to have been used by the
ld time settlers ts a mean of escape
from the Indians. Atthe timet, f.ihey's
-ela.-lli.ni, the follower of Shey entered
the house o;i a f ra 'in tour a'ld made
free use of whit they f miii 1. Mi-s
Day's in ther tie 1 to the cellar and lay
secreted there until the men left. II;
fore leaving they made a cut with a
hatchet on the wainscoting of the
front room, which remains there to this
lay. Baltimore American.
Sicklen's Araica Salve.
The Best Salve "in the world for Cuts,
Bruises, Sores, Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fe
ver Sores, Tetter, Chapjied Hands,
Chilblains Corns, and all Skin Erup-
ions, and pisitively cures Piles, or no
oay required. It Ls guurautee 1 to givj
perfect satisfaction or money refuntlee'.
Price Z't ceuts per box. For stile at J.
N. Snyder's Drug Store, S'ltierset, Pa.,
r G. W. Brallicr's Drug Store, Bir-
'in, Pa.
Wanted to Do Ha Duty.
The lawyers hsul badgered the juror
nearly to death with questions when
he jude finally took him in hand.
"You say you never heard of this
istse," said the judge.
"Nary a word of it, jedg , till I came
into the courtrtiom," was the reply.
"And you don't know either the
plaintilfor the defendant?"
"Never see either of 'em afere to
lay." "Do you know either of the attor
neys?" "Thank heaven, no."
"Then I shoul 1 thiLk you ought to
lie able to give a fair and impartial
hearing to the evidence and render a
verdict in accordance with it without
fear or favor."
"Jedge, as things stand now I kin do
that very same tiling, but I'm afeard of
hat may happen."
"What can happen that w ill Etr.et
your judgment?"
"Weil, j"lge," explained the juror,
turning to the conrt somewhat confid
entially, "if the lawyer behave them
selves, I'll be a craekerja-'k juror, hut
it's my experience in these here casts
that one or the other of 'em tisual'y
works in some smart tricks that makes
me so hoppin mad all the way tti rough
that it warps uiy jedgmeut, an then it
jest becomes natural for me to watch
out for a good chance to give him the
worst of it, an I ain't no kind of a juror
tosit in that case. If you'll j-st see that
the lawyer don't work in any blamed
foolishness to rile me, I reckon you'll
find I'm about a god a juror as you'll
:i:id anywheres ia thiscuinty; othr
wise I ain't tit to pass j.-dme'ilon who
owns a slice of apple pie." Exchange.
Haw to Look G joJ.
G xl looks are really more than skin
deep, depending entirely on a healthy
condition of all the vital organs. If the
liver 13 inactive, yon have a bilious
look; if your stomach tie disordered,
you have a dyspeptic look; if your kid
neys lie affected, you have a pinched
look. Secure K',:d health, cad you
will surely have g'xel looks. "K'ectriu
Bitters" is ag yl Alterative ami Totii ".
Acts directly on the stomach, liver and
kidneys. Purifies the blood, cures pim
ples, blotches and boils, andgivesagi.od
complexion. Every bottle guaranteed.
Sold at J. N. Snyder's Drug Store,
Somerset, Pa., aud G. W. Bra'.Iier's
Drug Store, Berlin, Pa. oO cents per
bottle.
In Swifzeiluicd ai.-o the goose is the
leading dish an I there will likewise be
found Oil the table confectionery, cakes,
fruits, nut pudJing, Geneva fritters
the national dish a paste made, of
fruits, marmalade, spices and eggs.
A bottle of Dr. Wood's Norway Pine
Syrup in the house saves doctors' bill,
saves trouble, and very often saves pre
cious lives. Gives almost instant relief
in cases of coughs, colds or lung troub
les of any sort.
Each country has Ita distinctive
Christmas dishes. The hoMy dinner of
E igland is to much like our own to
need description, although we are apt
to have turkey and niiuce pie instead of
roast beef and plum pudding.
A Tennesiss8 lady, Mrs. J. Y. Ton le, of
Philadelphia, Tenia, has been usuij
Chatuberlaio's C'oujjb. Ketndy for her ba
by, who is ulj.H to croup, and says of it:
"I tin I it just as fcood as you claim it to
bn. Sinee I've bad your C'ouU Ue;niiv.
ba'-.y ha been threatened withcroupever
i so iiiriiy times, but I would giva him a
d'weof the Itemed? and it prevented his
i having- it every time." Hundred cf
mothers aay the same. Sold by J. N.
Snyder, Somerset, Pa.
1
L
F
3 I '