If. rlod the inoua I been or the mak- e ship, a on ex gone to for the dlding in and 1,000 oe several an art gal e thousand will cover .structed " of on. The use f this kind is ived the Bp 's. It enables t n lie down a 1 a very short have solved the motion on the f the pressure of been known to petusl motion to Fie usefulness of .more than ques Spaniard has real chanical process of is a benefactor to em of perpetual mo t the most fatal sci he egea have pro- iple of the need for ac u in making estimate! icle in a recent Indepen' ' ws on the supply and within the earth. The i statement that enough .jiken out of the earth to , large as Ontario. This oeen denied by a professor leading Western colleges, jluuins ot the same iaper, that this caitnot be possi i present enormous' rate of vld take at the lowest csti years to fill the lake! . ablican Centennial Paris Ex . 189 is now being steadily - ( . The foundations are already pared in the Champ de Mars, . fence is being run up round idod ground, and the works will ly carried on through tho win (ride employment for the hun icn who would otherwise be g tho cold weather. The co t'cl tower will probably stand at nee of tho Pont de Jena, on the t c of the Seine, and after the ex a. . will remain the inventor's pri wte property for twenty years, then assing to tho government. The gardens re to bo especially extensive and beau Jful, and will be illuminated by the 'Tectrio light. The Zanzibar Arabs, in their long white garments, who, Dr. Lenz, tho Aus trian traveler, says, make Stauley Falls Station, in Central Africa, look like a village of the Zanzibar coast, have thrown oil their mask of friendship and com- pelled King Leopold's white agents to abandon the station and retreat down the river. Dr. Lenz wrote early this year that these slave dealers hud far more in fluence at Stauley Falls than the Congo white men wieldal. Here, in tho heart of King Leopold's territories, they have at last openly manifested their hostility to the advancing white influences that are threatening their supremacy in Cen tral Afriea. It was those gentry whom General Gordon was employed to deal with just before his fate changed his plans and sent him to Khartoum instead of the Congo. How to manage these powerful Arabs will henceforth be a puz zling question. ' In the last six months there has hardly been a day when New York city employ ment bureaus have not had twice cs many applications on hand for servants' as fur places. Comparatively few girls will take places where heavy work is re quired, A great many ladies go down to Castle Garden and get their servants. Occasional they get prizes, but they run a great risk. Nearly every boarding house in town has at least three or four employment ageucies constantly on the watch for them for help. The wages paid now are higher than at any tune in many years. From $18 to $20 a month with board and lodging are the regular rates. The chief complaint received at the employment bureaus is that lifter the housekeepers in private families have been to a good deal of trouble and spent considerable time iu training them into good servants from an ignorant and uu couth condition, the girls leave to be come chambermaids in big boarding bouses or bote's, where there is more excitement, but not near us good a borne. VOL. III. SO. 37. I IN STUBBLE FIBLDS. I hare seen growing far reaching grain fields, Emerald and shining; Gray were the beards that seemed as mistg floating c When day Is declining. I have seen grain fields golden for harvest, While as a glory Each spike was bearing its gleaming arista, Like saints of old story. I see those grain fields covered with stubble. Empty and lonely; Gone are their beauties and all I find there Are memories only, ( Overlancjf MonVily. THE OLE MAN'S BY JENNIE E. JTJD80I. "But, pappy," remonstrated the young girl, gently, - he never tutk the gol." "Never tuck tho gol!" cried the old man, a fierce fire Mating in his sunken eyes. "Mightn't he as well a tuck hit! Didn't ho up an' die 'thout givin no sign?" "It mought a ben that he'd a forgot." "No, c hile, 'twan tthat. lie knowed, ho ehorely knowed. 'Twere jes the ole gredge a-workin on him tell the las'." "An what ware tho gredge f" "Hit ware fur bekase thru a-bein ehif'less an ornery he miss a-gittin tho ooman he wanted fur a wife, while I was mo pyearter and come in ahead." The girl sat silent a moment, then asked: "How kirn he ever to know whar the gol an silver ware put?" "He holp mebury 'em, Telury. Mus I alius keep a-tellin you" fretfully "as how when we hecrd tho Northun troops ware a-comin I axed him to holrj mo tote hit to a safot place an bury hit. "I was cen a mos down with a fever. Yo maw ware bedfast, an yo wan't noth' in but a little goslin of a chil. Carruth ers had kirn over to borry sumthin, an peared like hit ware my onliest chance. "I lef the house a-reclin like a drunk man. Lightnin ware dancin befo my eyes an thundar a-roarin in my yers; but Ikeou'non, an 't las I heerd Carru therssay, dim like, ns in a . dream: 'They.aint no safeter place than what this u.' Then his pick struck into the yeath, an 'th that I tumbled right in my tracks with the feelin that Jake (arru thcrs ware a-diggin my grave. "An hit ware the grave to all my hopes, Telury," he added, patheticaliy, "fur I hadjtuckered myse'f clean out a-many n a-many a day a makin that monoy, for you an yo maw, kase I had my hyeart plumb set on a sendin you to Meeridgyun to skulc, and a-hirin a fine phizziken to cyore yo maw o' that spine in her back. "An hyer," he continued, with' a tremulous break in his voice, "yo maw's done gone, tuck off by the very mury I mistrusted would causu hereend, an you 'thout no eddication but what you've got fum thec piney-woods skules, which the good Lord knows aiut much. "Haint I a good reason to hate him?" with panting breath, "an to cuss his hull hateful brood Haint I a right to wish em every evil under the sun?" "Not them, pap," cried the young girl, excitedly; "don't cuss the inno cent. 'Tware the ol man as done wrong. Wouldn't he never tell you." she asked, as if in haste to turn the current of his words, "whar the box ware buried? ' "Tell me! I reckin he's told me a thousing times as how 'tware put at the foot of tho quinch tree in the summer gyarding. I've dug the tree down by piecetmcal in the yers I've kep a-lookin'. But when I'd tell him twan't thar, an' never had been thar, he'd vow the Yan kees mus' a tuck hit away." "An moughtn't that a ben?" "No, chil'. The troops wasn't skasely gone tell I began to pytartin up, an' when I went to dig whar Jake had tol' me, I plain seed't groun' had never ben broke. "lint ho air a restin oneasy in his grave, Telury," he continued, in a grue some whisper. "Two scritcb. ow-els scrotch 'n scrotch under my winder las night, which air a shore sign of the dyin ur the dead, an when X went to sleep I drcmpt Jake stood out thar in the south field a-piutin Uvodes tho ol oak, an a sayin; 'Go thar, an dig in the dead of night. We'll go to night, an see what we kin fin." Telura made no sign of dissent. Long experience had fought her that a ready interest in tho oft-told tale, and a ready acquiescence in her father's plans for the recovery of the treasure were by far the best. Opposition only roused within him a spirit of excitement which wore cruelly on his weakene I frame. She ross, and went slowly away to her work, but as tho clock struck four she left the back entrance and disappeared quietly in the woods. The sun had set when she returned. As she passed her father on the front porch he clutched at her gown with trembling lingers. "Who ware you a-walking with in the pine-grove, Telury?" he asked, huskily. " 'Tware Tom Carruthers." she an swered, lifting a white face and fright ened eyes. The blow had fallen and the old man qua fled beneath it. "I've los my nropity," he muttered, miserably, ' I've los my wife, an now I'm a-goin to lose my chil. '.My God!" he panted, hb if from overpowering pain, ' hit 'pears too hard to b'ar." "Oh, pap!" crie.l the young girl, wildly, as she threw herarms about him, "you ain't a-going to lose me. I'll stan by you tell the eend. 1 ware a-partin wsith him forever, bekase I knowed hit ware yo wish. I had growed to keer fur him 'thout a-knowin of it. He ware alius so kiud when wn ware n-goin to skule, and sence then 'peartxl like I could u' go nowhur, uur do nothiu but Tom's alius oil hands. I wan't never perlite to him, pap. but lookel like as if the mo hatefuller I actid t.vodcs him th at a TIONESTA. PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 12, 1887. kinder I wii a getting to feel. Hit spited me tumble, an I wrastled hard to hate him, but hit didn' 'pear to do no good. He's a goin away to-morror, though, an I'll furgit him, I. shorely will." But a fresh burst of tears and sobs gave icant promise of a fulfillment of her words. "He air a., bad stock, Telury, an we has reason to thankNtho Lord that you has got shet of him. "Folks do say, pappy, as how he air the pine rozzum image of his mam, an that she air a pow'ftil good ooman." "Folks don't know what they is a sayin One.halft the time," he answered, angrily:-. .'How could he be anythin but ornery Witji a feytber like that Think no mo about him, chil, 'n nex time I go to Meeridgyun (Meridian) I'll buy you a pink caliker frock." The young girl opened her lips as if to speak, but closed them with a sigh, and moved away, wearily, to prepaie the evening meal. All through the weary vigil which preceded their departure to the old oak she sat, heavy and silent, "a-grievin," as the old man thought, with a touch of anger and sympathy combined. A little breeze sprang up before they started. It swayed the name of the pine knot which Telura bore to light her father at his work, and plainly de fined her finely-molded figure beneath its cotton gown. The flickering light of the torch brought out the golden gleams of her curling hair, and, as she stood, pale and silent, holding the light aloft, she looked like a beautiiul priestess aiding at a mystic rite. , The old man dug on excitedly, and his pick struck at last an unyielding sub stance. Ilis breath came hard. Were the hopes of yt ars to meet their long delayed fruition? But a wild cry rang out suddenly on the night, and drew his startled attention. What terrible sight was this that burned itself into his senses? The torch lav fitfully caspine upon the earth, while speeding away as on tho wings of the winds fled Telura, pursued by a circling flame of fire. Some unno ticed spark had fallen upon her gown from the back, and quickly ignited its cotton folds. He started in agonized pursuit; but long ere he could have reached her a man sprang quickly from a thicket mar, caught her in his arms, wrapped her about with his discarded coat, and smothered the cruel flames. She sank back fainting as her father reached the spot. The two men lifted and bore her ten derly home. No word was spoken be tween them; but whea the light was lit in the cabin it fell full on the face of Tom Carruthcrs. "I'll fetch my mother and the doctor," he said. "Ketch Mrs. Tompkins and tho doc tor," was the angry reply. 'Twas hard, thought the old man, that in dire ex tremity he should again have to depend for aid on a member of this hated fam ily. Would this one, too, betray him? "What ware ho a-sneakin aroun in the woods fur, Out to spy on me?" he mut tered. No feeling of gratitude toward the young man asserted itself in his breast during the long night spent by himself and the kind Mrs. Tompkins in attend ance on the suffering girl. And early in the morning, when Telura, with wounds carefully dressed, lay quiet under the in fluence of a narcotic, he crept out to re new his interrupted work. He gazed with bated breath into the cavity made the night before. It was empty, and his pick was sticking into a root of the tree. This, then, was tho hard substance, the striking of which had so raised his hopes. He sank back with a groan. The hand of Fate was against him. An hour later he went back dazedly to the house. Telura still slept, and, throwing himself on a lounge near the bed, lie, too, fell into a deep slumber. When he awoke, toward evening, and looked at the young girl, lying pale and statue like, a great fear smote him. Might he not lose her after all? Had he never prized hsr enough? She, who had spent her whole young life in his service. Had he not accepted that service ns too much his due? He saw revealed as in a lightning flash how all-absorbing had been his passion for the recovery of the money, and how little he had thought or done ' for this unselfish child. How willingly for his sake she had given up the man she loved. Then he recalled his own wild regret when he had feared to lose his sweetheart her mother. Had Telura suffered like that? Perhaps he had been too harsh. Tom Carruthers was spoken of as a steady, industrious young man; and he had noticed last night that while his hands were badly burned he had seemed to have no thought but for Telura. But there came back the old, bitter question: "With a feyther like that, how could he be anything but ornery?" "f'appy," broke in a feeble voice upon his thoughts, "would you ban me a drink of wahter?" The cooling draught was adminis tered. Ten days later, utterly prostrated from a fierce conflict with fever and pain, Telura made her next rational request. "Pappy," she said, meekly, "ef I don't ever git well, an" feebly smooth ing his hardened haud "hit do 'pear now as though I never can, I want you to try an git het of that gredge you is a-holdin agin Tom Carruthers. He air good, pappy, I know he air. I feel it in hyer." laying her hand upon her heart. "He have dog ar.im for that gol een a mos as much as you, a-hoping to ondo his pappy's wrong, an he 'lowed to mo as he ware a-goin to try to pay you back. Try to be forgivin to him, puppy, for my sake, au tell him good-bye 'th my oudving love." "I don't want you to tell no one good bva. Telury." answered the old man. "no ti one," blowing his nose furiously. "I aint a-holdin no gredgo agin Tom Car rathers no mo, an as no's a-hangin roun the front po'ch now, whar he's ben a-hangin mos o' the . time, endurin yo seeckness, I'll fetch Lira in, an you kin tell him 'howdy' instead of good-by. an how you is a-goin to pycarten right up 'n git well fur him an me." A flash of joy illumined the girl's pale face, and her father left the room with brimming eyes ns Carruthcrs clasped her in his longing arm's, ;' .;. . The struggle in the old man's mind had been long,- and sharp, and bitter. The prejudice of years and a sense of cruel wrong had fought hand to hand with a desire for his daughter's happi ness, and a ' growing conviction of the worthiness of her lover. Tho latter had conquered and ithe victory was complete. "What does gol or gredges weigh," he communed with himself, on the front porch, "agin the sight of sich happiness as that? . Telura sD.pt that night the soft, low breathing sleep of returning health. Her father's slumber was that of the just. But a. storm swept tho physical world. In the morning the giant oak had fallen. Its roots protruded from tho earth. Two men had sought the spot, and the younger pointed with a trembling linger to a small tin box, which lay closely clasped in tho interlacing roots. - "Thank God it is found," cried the younger, excitedly, as he disentangled and handed it to ILe old man. Its contents, we; intact, and the old man murmured: " i'hank God I" too, as he saw the glittering coin. lCome, Tom," he added, with a joyful laugh, "we'll go and tell Telury." Chicago Current. Fashions in Maladies. . Most physicians are likely to-have the ories about diseases rather than actual knowledge thereof, because, being ig norant ot what is going on inside the human body: they are forced to surmise and infer, from certain data, often in sufficient. Their theories seem to enjoy a kind of periodxity. Physicians look to this or thai organ, and usually find, or think they find, that its derangement lies at the basa of the trouble. In the same way specialists always discover in pa tients what is their specialty, whether it be nerves, brain, heart, liver, lungs or kidneys, as most of us are prone to find what wo seek. Until Richard Bright had published his treatises, forty-nix and lorty-seven years ago, no one had supposed the kidneys alfected, and he might not have turned his attention to this disorder but from his own nephritic sufferings, which finally caused his death. Bright's disease gets its name from him, aud ever since he described its symptoms physicians have regarded the kidneys as the source of numberless ailments. Every one must have noticed how constantly nowadays the cause of mortality is called Bright s disease; often, indeed, when it is something else. Many of tho ablest and most ex perienced practitioners regard Bright's disease, or albumenuri.i, as a combina tion of diseases rather than a'separate and distinct disease. This would account for the number of old persons who are thought to die of Albumenuria. A man who has long been ill must be affected in different organs, the derangement of one causing the derangement of another. Thus a general breaking down is called albumenuria. Tho kidneys have, in the way of diagnoses, nearly had their run, which has lasted almost half a century. The livor is now having its turn, and ere long no doubt most disorders will be at tributed thereto This is moderately safe, because its condition is hard to de termine, and theory will answer in the absence of facts. There are eras and fashions in maladies, as in other things, and at present the liver may be said to be coming in. New York Commercial. Defending Her Pastor. Rev. R. W. Todd, in his recent work, "Methodism of the Peninsula,'' tells this 6tory: In tho lat years before the war feeling on the slavoiy question ran dan gerously high, and thoso Methodist preachers in Virginia who were even ins pected of a leaning toward abolitionism were threatened with tar and feathers and other forms of injury. The Rev. James A. Masse y was partieulary obnox ious to the mob clement, and was re peatedly warned not to preach. He never paid any attention to threats, but his meetings were sometimes forcibly broken up. Once while he was holding service a "committee," headed by one Dick Ayre., a stalwart fellow of 250 pounds, entered the church, and Avres, mount ing to the sido of the preacher, began to harangue the mob. At this juncture a devout sister, aed seventy years,climbed over the altar-rail, ascended the pulpit stairs, collared Ayres, und with a dex terous jerk laid him upon his back on the floor. Then she grabbed him by his long hair and pounded his head against the planks until he begged for mercy. The men sat t-till in auiaemeut ; the women prepared to defend their pastor, and would probably have driven out the mob by force if Mr. Mussey had not sus pended the services and dispersed the congregation. Anomalies of Smell. Peculiarities of the sense of smell form a subject o' investigation by Mr. Arihur fitniflt nf I'.l inttlirtrti Amnrirr llwtuA observed thus far is that of a person who smells noming irom a ueu i mignonette, und i.f nnnthrr Mho lti-reeives nr ndnr from the bean iield. tho sense being oth erwise acute and discriminating n both cases. Another person can discover no difference between certain odors which are rery dilleient to others; while there are persons who are sii kened by certain odors which usually give pleasure. A considerable number of persons seem to I'e altogether destitute of the sense of smell: and on the other hand there are n few who have tho sense very strongly devolved. 4 A. $1 50 PER ANNUM GIRLS WHO BIND BOOKS. FEATURES OF THE WORK IN A Bio bindery;. What tho Feminine Employes Earn Tho Hurtful Brome A Talk With a Bindery Girl. "Our girls earn on an average $0 a week," said the proprietor of a largo bookbindery. "Some of them earn fli; the beginners earn all of them work 'by tho piece.' They can do any sort of Work, aud the finest books we have are sewed by them. They cover the pam phlets, but the bound books are done en tirely by men. The stamping and such work is dono by machinery. Our girls work ten hours a day, and sit down dur ing the whole of that time, or at least the greater part of it. The girls who w;rk on the 'dry press' are obliged to stand. The dry press is a machine for pressing the matter over night after it has been folded." "What sort of girls are they?" "Good, quiet-going girls for the most part. The majority of them live at tome. They are as neatly-dressed as any girls you see on the street." "Do you emptoy them steadily?" "Well, some of them we do. Of course, when it is dull we let our girls go, but when we have a big job we ad vertise and get a lot for the time being, or if wo know of some good hands we send for them." - , Several other publishers said substan tially the same thing. The girls themselves were not re luctant to talk upon the subject. One of them, when asked how she liked the work, ran her hands through her shock of curly red hair and protested that it was '"awful!" "What is awful about it?" "Well, for one thing, the bronzing." "Is that a necessary and useful part ol the work?" "Any of us. are likely to be given a job of bronzing at any time. We're here to be generally uselul, and if the bosi says bronze '00, 000 covers for advertising pamphlets, why of course we bronze em." "But it is said you can most of you do "only one thing well:" ,. . "What nonsense! Besides, anyone could bronze. All it needs is a little eare.". "What hurt does it do?" "Hurt enough! If you don't wear a epouge over your mouth and nose the bronze will get in the throat and make terrible sores. . A girl who worked here once got ulcers in her throat from work ing in bronze, and was laid up four months." "Does it make much difference to you what - kind of work you - are cngaed upon?" "O, my, yes! We make a great deal more at some kinds than we do at others. Tho finer tho class of work the less we make at it. Heavy, expensive paper is a great deal harder to lotd than light pa per such as is used for railroad guides. I guess railroad guides are about the best paying work we have. Wo fold them. you know. t-'ome of them have sixteen or twenty folds, and a girl has to be real smart to remember all tho twists and turns so ns to make no mistake." ' "So that is the best paying work?" "Yes." "How much can you make a week at it?" "There's a girl over there that has worked six years in a bindery, and now and then she makes $U a week. But then she works through the greater part of the noon hour." "Not many of the girls make that much, then?" "Well. I should say not' There's one poor little girl here that never makes a cent over $2. She's such a slow little thing aud she can't remember from one time to another how to turn a fold or make a knot. You know we have an odd way of making a knot with our needle in the thread as we sew the sections. There's jne good thing about the bind ing business. You s e most of us can sit down all day long. They have long benchos in almost every factory where where we can sit." . "Is there a Uniform prico among pub lishers? Do ail houses pay the same for the same work?" ".No, indeed, they don't. Some of the bosses are as mean as dirt. But after we find it out they don't get any but green horns to work for them. There is iuitea difference in the prices the different houses pay." "Do you get steady work?" "No; and that's the very, very worst thing about bindery work. One week a man will have Vi!i girls, and the next he won't have more than ten. I suppose, it's all right. I don't see tiny way to fix it. But it seems wrong to me, somo way. Tho man's work is done, but what become of the girls? If they ain't liv ing with their folks they just have to run in debt for their board till they get more work. It's pretty hard, somtimes, 1 can tell you." "Whut should you say was the aver age wages made by tho girls " "Four dollars aud fifty cents and $.ia week by the ordinary workers." "How much do the forewomen get?'' "We have no forelady, but where I worked lust tho forelady got if 10 a week and nothing to do but just look after us!" "Do you ever get cheated out of your pay?" "Not in the largo establishments. Now and then some lit t to concern will fail." "Do yoil get docked much iu your wages?" ".Not much. Home of those mean bosses I told you of make you pay if yo i sew a section wrong, or fold bmlly enough to spoil anything of value, or paste a cover on upside down. But, uf ter all, that's fa r enough. There isn't miiu h couip'aint t bo mado on the whole." CUicixuQ Tribune, RATES OF ADVERTISING. One 8iore, one Inch, one Insertion. 1 ot One Pqimre, one Inch, od month I 00 One Pqiinre, one Inch, three months. ,- i i One Square, one Inch, one jtr...., , . loo Two Sqneres, ono year II 00 Quarter Colamn, one jear. SO O0 Half Column, one year M 00 One Column, one year .............100 tu Leiral t1vertlscm.'nt9 tea emu per lino eneu la ertion. Marriage and death notice rratla. All blllp for yearly advertiaementi collected qn&r. tcrly. Temporary advertisement moat be paid in advance. Jo work eauh on daltrerr. IMMORTALITY, I lire. Thus much I know. And I defy The world to prove that I shall ever die. But all men perish? Aye; and even so Beneath the grasses lay this bodv low, Forever close these eyes and still this breath. All this. Yet I shall not have tasted death Where are the lips that prattled Infant lays? The eyes that shone with light of childhood's days? The heart that bubbled o'er with boyhood's gleet The limbs that bounded as the chamois free? The ears that heard life's music everywhere! These, all; where are they now? Declare. Forever gone! Forever dead! Yet still I livel My love, my hate, my fear, my will, My all that makes live living, firm abides As towers the rock above the fickle titles. Dead is my youth, and so my age must die. But I remain, imperishable 11 Speed day and year! Fleet by the stream of time) Wing, birds of passage, to a summer climel Come change, come dissolution and decay, To kill the very semblance of this clay! Yet know tho conscious, the unchanging I Through all eternity shall never die! Willis Fletcher Johnson, in Current HUMOR OF THE DAY. A fitting tribute A present of a suit of clothes. Crossed in love tho suspenders ' your girl makes you Puck. Scarlet fever a desire to paint the town. New Haven News. A tip top story The hotel clerk's reasons for lodging you in the attic, Why is a fat man like wator? Because neither can run up hill. Burlinqton Free Press. Some Americans are too proud to beg and too honest to steal, so they get trusted. Boston Post. Sailors haven't much liking for Wrecks, but divers are down on them more than any one else. St. Paul Herald. On tho rolling deep: First passenger "Well, old boy, what's up this after noon?"' Second passenger "All but the soup." Life. A fashion journal says there is a knack in putting on gloves. Come to think ot it, that's so. You have to get your hands in, as It were. Washington, Post. A fashion item says shoes are the same as in the spring. Ours are not. We've had two pairs since then. But perhaps we are ultra fashionable. Life. Felt slippers are to be worn consider ably this winter. Bjornson's boy hopes his mother's will not bo felt any more than formerly. St. Paul Herald. Oscar Wilde says: "I can't write poetry when I have eaten anything." ' Soma benefactor of his race should invite Oscur to dinner every day. Piltatturg Chronicle. It is whispered about the suburbs ol Buffalo that a young girl of that city screamed so when the dentist was pull ing her tooth that she turned yeller. Jiuchester Post-Express. A sealskin sacque l'or the Bartholdi statue would cost f75,4;!, a decent bonnet $11,483 and a pair of shoes $1,847. The above statements are mad iu order to "scoop" and silence tho sta tistical fiend. Minneapolis Tribune. An Arkansas man made a bullet out of a piece of plug tobac co and shot it through tho body of a wildcat. The animal died. Here we have another forci ble illustration of the fatal effects of to bacco on the system. Norristown Her ald. Saved by a Dog. The four-year-old child of John B. Bacigalupo was trying to cross the street railroad track on the south side of the market-house, when, frightened by the near approach of a car, the little fellow in turning fell directly across the track. The horses passed over the boy with out, injuring him, and before any injury could be done, a dog, sitting with his master at the corner of the market-house, rushed to the child and pulled it from the track by its clothes just as the wheels were about to crush it. Kveryono was astonished at the act of the dog, which was rcmarkubly wise and intelligent. The rescue of the child was observed by a large number of people. Tho brave dog is four years old. He has become quite a hero. Cincinnatti En quirer, Drinking His Health. Kvery time Louis XV. went hunting forty bottles of wine formed an indis pensable pajt of the impedimenta. It is true the King never drank himself on Hiicn occasions; wniie Discounters inva riably tested their loyalty by tossing off copious draughts to the health of their royal master. One day, however, Louis, feeling thirsty, quite unexpectedly culled for a glass of wine. A iootman stated, in great alai m, that there was none left. "H ere not forty lottles brought with us to-day. as usual?" "Oh, yes, your Ma jesty, but they are all drank." "The e in luture," quietly replied the King, 'lake forty-one bottles, so that thee may be at least one left for me!" St. S, mun (Mriitoira), HonVy-Dew. Honey dew, a saccharine 1! on leaves of trees and plants, to be cailstd in two ways: lo tion of a kind of inoL-i t, i'i and also by an culuii i 1 themselves. The ( uusc of t!.i is still an unsolved Lotunx i It is esptc ally frequent trees. It suemt to be eau I thing peculiar in the clinrit.- to be most often en ou i-At tempetate latitudes. unf er si-ciu-i to utiiuiilat its y ln;i Oocai.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers