1 me Forest Republican Is pub&hed every Wednesday, by J. E. WENK. Offlo la Sme&rbauga ft Co.'s Building ZtV. BTBEET, TIONKSTA, PA. Twmi, - 81.QO Per Year. He subscriptions received for shorter period than tbraa months. Correspondence solicited from all parts of the eouutry. Mo aotloe wlU be taken of anonymous oommuQioatlona. RATES OF AOVERTISINCi Forest Republican. On Square, one inch, on insertion. ,f 100 Tue Square, one inch, one month. ., 1 00 tin Square, on inch, three months. . 5 00 One Square, one inch, on year...... 10 00 lo Squares, one year.... .... 15 (JO Quarter Column, ou year.. .......... 9) 00 Half Column, oue year.. 50 00 Una Column, one year 100 00 Lezal advertisement ten cent per line each insertion. Marriages and death notices gratis. All bills lor yearly advertisement collected quarterly Temporary advertisements must Iw paid in advance. Job work cash on dellverr. VOL. XXXI. NO. 27. TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCT. 19, 1898. 81.00 PER ANNUM. Let ' The test of Spanish statesmanship is ability to reconcile) the people to bad news. Returns for 1898 show an increase in Canada's trade of $14,000,000 over that for the corresponding period of last year. The Government has decided to quit using black powder and has or dered a million pounds of the smoke less artiole. Iu the years to come those who read our war pootry will wonder what is meaut by such expres sions as "the battle's smoke." A sarcastio writer in the Washing ton Star obsorvos: Russia wants peace until the trans-Siberian rail road is-coniploted. France wants die- armament immediately after she has recovered Alsace-Lorraine. England favors disarmament of thajand forces Xlone, her warships being, she ex- plains, the harmless, necessary po licemen to frighten off pirates from at tacking her extensive commerce. The 'United States yearns for universial , peace but would not permit that ab stract desire to interfere with the com pletion of her new navy. Quito an industry is now carried on in the production of greeu gutta poroha from the leaves of the caoutchouc tree, a product whioh is said to possess not only all the ad ' vantages of the artiole procured by incision into the stem, but even to exoel it iu durability, thus promising to enter largely into use industrially and commercially in a hitherto un known way. It is not only readily prepared, but is also cheap, and does not require the exponsive purification whioh has hitherto increased the price of the substance some fifteen to twenty-five per ceut. It is highly plastio, very strong, can be divided into the thinnest leaves, and receives the most delicate and, at the suine time, most distinct impressions by moulding and pressing. In addition to these advantages there is the im portant one of perfectly withstauding aotion of water and the strongest aoids, and even in a worn and broken up condition is still worth one-fourth its cost of production. . Fark Commissioners in Baltimore are worried over the blighting of treos, whioh is ascribed to the pres ence of the electric lights and wires. The popular impression is that the ill effect conies from the bright light, under the influence of which the trees grow at night, as well as during the day, and thus soon exhaust their vitality ' ,' Electricians dispute this, however, while acknowledging the possible deteriorating influence of electricity. They deny that the electrio light is sufficient for the growth of vegetation, inasmuch as it lacks the heat present iu the light of the sun. Their theory is that the evil effeot seen is due to electrolysis. Much eleotrioity, they explain, es capes from the cirouits. This, pass ing into the body of the tree, as the readiest conductor, decomposes the sap by taking out of it t'ie oxygen whioh is its life-giving part. The faol that young trees show the injury from eleotrioity more than the older ones, far from supporting the assumption that the injury is due to the light, goes to prove the other theory,' the electricians say, because the yonn,' tree, more tender and full of sap, if more susceptible to the electrio influ enoe. - Library work for children is com paratively in its infancy, and in a majority of libraries the age limit re garding the withdrawal of books is maintained., - This is, of course, vise in libraries where a separate classifi cation of books for children has not been made. Bat many libraries have such classifications, and some have even gone to the extent of providing children's rooms or "corners." A chapter of a recent report by the Wis consin Free Library Commission is devoted , to this interesting phase of library work. Progress therein is facilitated by the supervision of the State Commission, and by a natural rivalry which is not so likely of de velopment among isolated libraries. The .Wisconsin report speaks en ' thusiastically of results. There are no more constant patrons than the children, and none who show a greater appreciation of the advantages offered by their behavior in the library and by their care of the books. Some libraries have gone to the extent of permitting tho children to select the books desired from the shelves, and to replace them there after their re turn has been noted at the receiving desk. The children thus trusted have mastered the Cutter system of library indexing, with its mysterious symbols, and rarely is there occasion to re aan&e any of the books iu the chil dren's section. SONG AFTER VVe bare given our best, oh Lord! We gave without stint or measure Our sons to the ruthless sword. Tho best of our men and treasure; We heeded the ory of distress, Lord Oodl We trusted the cause to Thee, Wo leaned on Tby might while we (ought for the right Fought upon land and sea. To Thee the praise. Lord Oodl That bade the horrors cease. That led this land with Tby tender band To Viotory and Peace. S THE BARLOW BLOCKADE. 1 .A. Reoruitlng Incident. gj2T"32 HE war had been in weeks when one warm evening Billy Barlow camo shuttling into the kitchen where his wife was busy washing np the supper dishes, aud there was such a new energy in his Btep that she turned involuntar ily to see what it meant. "Well, mother, said he, "the President hez called for troopB, and I'm goin' to enlist." "Oh, ye be, be ye?" returned Mis' Barlow, dryly. A hot flush bnrnt on her face, and she felt ouoe mow the sinking of heart she had known so well during the years of the Civil War, when Billy had been doing active service in the field. No wonder she hated the very mention of war aud fighting. Her strong, young husband had come back to her a broken wreck from a lotig imprisonment to be watched and tended like a child for the rest of his life. People tapped their foreheads significantly to the mention of Mis' Barlow's Bill, and said he wasn't all there, but the most imaginative of them were far from suspecting how inuoh of him wasn't there. "Down to the town hall I'm goin' to-morrow niornin', euro's a gun. Sho, t' won't be long, mother I You don't mind my goin'?" lie spoke almost pleadingly, step piog round where he could steal a glance at the face bent over the dish pau, working fiercely iu the press of many emotions. "You'ro too old," she said. "It's the young fellers they want to have shot down in battle or murdered iu other ways that's even wuss." There was a lump in her throat. "But I'm a veteran, don't yo see? Makes a sight o' difference. I guess there'll be no doubt about my gettin' in. I'm sound enough, if I am fifty five," and Billy, shouldering an imag inary gun, went through the manual of arms with a precision which would, indeed, have delighted the captain of his oompany. "You'll see about gettin' my things ready, won't yo, Liza?" he asked presently, pausing in the march he had begun np aud down the room, while the clattering of dishes iu the sink might have represented the rat tle of a hostile mnsketry. It was as tonishing to see how the old, manly occupation seemed to bring back some of the old, manly spirit. For the first time in years there was the ring of decision in his voice, and it struck deep into the poor wife's sotil. He should never go back again to that cruel army. She had given np enough to her conntryalready,and she turned upon him sharply. "No. I won't. You ain't going to no war, William Barlow, and you might as well make pp your mind tp it first as last. So stop your nonsense and go pnt np them plates in the closet." Bill quailed from mere foree of habit He mechanically picked up the pile of plates, still damp aud warm- -f roua- the excited hands of the waBher, and car ried them into the bnttery. On or dinary occasions he would have re turned with a feeble smile and some meek acquiescent jest in the face of opposition, but to-night he lingered, straightening the' bowls and .platters on the shelves, out of sight of his wife, trying very hard to collect his scat tered wits with one great effort of re sistance. -j Mrs. Barlow, wiping her hands on her big blue gingham apron, followed him in a few minutes. He looked up at her, and there was something in his manner that filled her with sud den anxiety. "I've give way to ye in everything else, 'Liza, like a lamb, now haven't I? But this ain't for you to decide, and I'm goin' to enlist to-morrer morn in'. There, we won't say no ' toof e about it. Mebbe I shouldn't be called on to go to Cuba, anyhow. It'll make a new man o' me to see the . old flag floatin' in the wind again." His dull eyes kindled, and a host of recollections rushed into his befogged mind. It was useless for the. dis turbed wife to try to lure him away to other topics of conversation. When he declared from time to time that he meant to enlist next day, she no longer contradicted him, but heard his plans in silence, and even reminded him of the particular corner in the attio where his battered knapsack had been stored away, so that he had ceased to suspect her of opposing his designs when the clock struck nine, and they prepared to shut up the house for the night. "I want you should sleep in the spare room to-night, William," said she. "Why, 'taint house cleaning time, is it?" asked Billy, good-naturedly. si VICTORY. 'Neath a tropical sky. oh Lord! And sunk in the boundless deep Lie those we loved who died by the sword Have they not earned their sleep? They have finished the tusk Tbou g a vest, Lord I They have paid the score of years. With the victory won their work is done We thank Thee through our tears. To Thee the praise, Lord Oodl That caused the war to cease. Tbat with Thy might upheld the right And blessed our land with Fence. Helen Fuller, in Indianapolis News. accustomed to the upheaval of all household ways and traditions in those hours of trial. "Pretty nigh. I want to git the room aired out a little, aud a feather bed like that is all the better bein' slop' in now and then." "Just as you soy," returned the veterau, taking up his lamp. "And I shall be stirrin' pretty early, anyhow, so's to get the chores done before I step over to the town hall, ye know. Mebbe I'll come back a colonel after this trip, mother." "Mobbe ye will if ye start," said mother, enigmatically, but the sober warrior was absorbed iu dreams of future greatness and did not hear her. He went to bed in the musty spare chamber, which was chilly and damp in the April season just beginning, to dream that he was again lying in a tent,, waiting the sound of the reveille aud preparing for a long day's maroh; and that or the rest on goose feathers proved to be particularly soothing, for the sun was well up in the sky when he woke the next morning. There was a strong smell of smoke iu tho air. Conscience-stricken lest his wife should have been trying to build the kitchen fire herself, a task which she generally left for him, Billy rose hastily from his downy couch, and prepared to make a hasty toilet. To his astonishment, the chair ou which he had deposited his clothes was empty. Every other chair was empty. Not a garment was to be seen in the room. ' Everything except the furniture had disappeared. More and more bewildered, as he took in the situation, Billy proceeded to the door. It was locked' -on the outside. Applying his eye to the keyhole he conld see the key iu the lock. . Mys tery piled on mystery. In a state of mind too complicated to describe he fell to bawling like a frightened boy: "Mother! mother! Come let me out I What does this mean?" No wonder she heard, for his lungs were sound, and the noise he made shook the house. Her light, firm step soon came creaking np the stairs to pause outside the door. "Was you a-callin' of me, William?" said she in a tone of dangerous soft ness. "Why, yes, mother! Somethin's happened. All my clothes is gone and I'm locked in. What does it mean?" "Means you're where you're goin' to stay for a while," returned Mrs. Barlow, with docision. "I've locked you in myself, an' you ain't a'co'nin' out till you give me your word you'll say nothin' more about enlistiu'. You cau promise now, anr1 I'll let yon out" , The habits of thirty years are not to be broken down in a moment, and her husband's instinctive impulse was to surrender. If the two of them had been face tp face, there is no reason to suppose that he could have held out - But an . iuch or two of pine board stretched between them. Eliza Barlow could not- see through it and watch the limp figure slowly stiffening to a soldierly straightness and firm ness, as he said, after a brief pause, and with an accent of reproach which somehow filled her with a momentary pang of shame" "i'sha'n't make no such" promise, now' or never.' ' You can't keep me here, forever, Where's my clothes, Liza?" "You haven't got any." ' "Haven't got any?" gasped the astonished Billy. '"No. I've burnt 'em, every stitch you owned. Look out of jrour window and you'll see the ashes of 'em in the back yard." " ' j . ' "I guess you set round in rags and dirt that a blanket's heaven to, when yon was soldiering. . I hain't for gotten it, if yon have You go 'way from the door and I'll slide in your breakfast on a tray. I ain't goin' to starve you. Bat you can't oome out till you've give me your word. We can have war right here at home, so long as you're hankering after it." "War?" "Yes, William. 'Twon't go so fur as hand-to-hand fightin', mebbe, but I'll see that you get all the blockade you can 'tond to without goin' to Cuba." The key turned in the lock, and a tin tray set forth with corn bread and coffee was thrust in. Billy listened as he ate to the sound of her brisk coming and going about her house hold duties down stairs, with a curious idea working in his shallow brain. No prisoner of state ever accepted his situation with a more nolle spirit, and as the day wore on, Billy sat at the window scanning the road towards the village as if expecting a squad of cavalry to come pelting ouward ;i a cluud of dust to his rescue. Alas, none appeared! Mrs. Barlow pro vided a frugal dinuer, a still lighter supper. She was rather surprised at the obduracy with which her captive held out against her, aud yet she went I & o bed in her own room on the opposite side of the landing with a smile playing round her lips as she said to herself "Another day of it will fix him. He'll have to give in." But at the end of another day he was still unconquered. It had grown very dull and wearisome in the low ceiled room, which had not so much as a picture on the wall to relieve its dreariness. Billy took exercise by pacing up and down in his blanket It seemed to him more dignified not to bandy words with his wife. So he maintained a stately silence when she demanded, as she brought iu his meals, "Ain't you about tired o' bein' a fool, William?" which alarmed and then nettled her. The heroine who cried "Scissors!" with her last breath was a woman after Eliza Barlow's own heart. She never had abandoned a position when she ouco had taken it np, and this time a serious question waa involved, for, with his suddenly developed strength of mind and pur pose, she did not doubt that if he es caped he would carry out his object of enlisting. That he might be rejected because he was what the neighbors called "a little tetched" never oc curred to her, and it seemed to her that her only chance of saving him and herself from a repetition of those terrible experiences of the sixties was to keep him under lock and key until the company had filled its ranks aud departs d to joiu the distant army. Mrs. Barlow shook her gray head when she took away the soaroely tasted supper tray on the evening of the third day. Poor old Billy was sitting listlessly on the side of the bed a little later, when he heard a wagon drive into the yard. Theu the cheery voice of his brother-in-law floated in through the open window, inquiring for him. "He ain't been able to get about these few days. Been confined to his room," explained his wife, with a grim regard for the exact truth. "Iwautto know! Guess I'll run in aud see him. Rheumatiz, is is?" said the sympathetic inquirer. Mrs. Barlow's reply was inaudible. Then Billy's quickened ears caught a charmed word, and he listened breath lessly, "I thought he'd get excited over the war. Didn't know but he'd set out to go. The company's about full. They've got their orders and are ex pecting to march to-morrow morning. Well, ImuBt be off." The wheels rattled away leaving the prisoner in the spare room in desper ation. The time had come when he must make a bold dash for liberty if he intended to follow the stars aud stripes to the front, and the fog that hung over his brain seemed to lift and clear away for a moment, leaving him to oonsider a plau as ooolly and calmly as he had ever done in his life. That he would drop from the win dow without being more than bruised was probable, for the turf underneath was soft and spongy. But the possi bility of making his way along the road and down the village street iu the blanket, or even the fringed bine and white counterpane of the best bed, without being observed aud ar rested as an escaped lunatio, was dis missed at once. He looked round the room. A dungeon cell could not have been barer. There was a closet empty, for he had explored it care fully in the tedious hours of his cap tivity. Oh, no, not wholly eraptr,.for laid away iu a drawer with sprigs of lavender were his wife's Sunday things. Like a flash he had them out She waa a large woman, and the black silk skirt all but met round his waist, for Billy had never succeeded in putting on much flesh after his career in the army. The sparerooin pinoushion was well supplied, and if tho belt wouldn't fasten, the gathers could and did, by means of many pins. Over his shoulders went the camel's'hair shawl, that sacred garment never be fore touched by hands profane, and aftor a little hesitation, he concluded to add the bonnet, laughing at the re flection in the mirror as he perched it on his head and tied the strings un der his chin, rough with the silver stubble of a three days' beard. An embroidered veil depended from the brim, and in this lay his safety, for when he drew the capaoious shawl about him and kept his great boots uuder the hem of the skirt, he might easily have been mistaken in the late spring twilight for the figure that sat on Sundays in the Barlow pew. When his costume was complete he wont to the window aud again sur veyed the scene. All was clear. His wife was in the kitchen at the other side of the house. He let himself slowly down and dropped to the ground under the apple trees without more serious damage than a three cornered rent torn in his skirt, whioh caught in the sill. In another minute he was hastening along the turnpike with giant strides towards the square where the town hall reared its white pillared front with the classic super iority of a Parthenon. The recruit iug bureau had closed for good and all at six o'clock that day, but a group of the newly enlisted were gathered , in its neighborhood discussing the one all-absorbing topic, conscious that the events iu which they were abont to take part were the making of history. Excitement was in the air. The whole village was charged with it. All at once the little gathering was startled by the sudden appearance of a woman, tall, uncouth, ill-dressed, who dashed hastily down among them aud up the steps. of the hall, to beat in vain upon the door that bore the large official placard. When she had convinced herself that her efforts were useless she leaned back against the doorpost with a stifled exclamation of despair. One of the young men in uniform stepped forward and lifted his cap respectfully. "Madame," said he, "the office is closed. Can I be of any assistance?" The woman threw back her veil, and there rose a loud murmur of sur prise. "I wanted to join the compauy,' declared a deep, masouline voice, and a man's face full of trouble looked out from under the black bonuet from one wondering bystander to another. "It's Mis' Barlow's Bill," murmured a lad, tapping his forehead iu a mean ing way; "and by Georgo, he's got on the old lady's things! He was in the war, you know, aud I guess the sound of the drums has completely turned his head. The captain was aimng the crowd. Stirred by a generous pity, he went up to the fantastic figure. "The ranks are full," he said. "You should have applied earlier." "Couldn't," returned Billy, simply. "Much as ever I'm here now. Mother, she's dreadful set against my going. She burnt up my clothes to keep me to home. Been locked up three days, Reg'lar blockade. But I got away, I got away!" The boys crowded round with de lighted laughter at the news of the first engagement of the war of 1898, and the captain slapped the camel's hair shawl on the back as its wearer told the details of his eacape. "Why, you are a historical person age, man!" cried the former, merrily, "and deserve to be escorted home by a detail of soldiers. Come, fellows, fall into line, aud we'll see that Mr. Barlow gets back safely. You must do duty as one of .the home guards at present, sir, and be ready if a second call for meu comes." So, with au imposing military at tendance, Billy returned to the little ' red house under the apple trees as pleased and proud as a major-general, his heart beating fast and his head held high as he fell involuntarily into the familiar marching step. It was a droll sight as the black silk skirt did its best to keep up with the smart, blue trousered legs, and the cavalcade made merry as it advanced. Mrs. Barlow heard it approaohing, and filled with presentiments hurried to the door to behold a horrible carica ture of herself trudging along in .the centre or a squad of militia. For one moment she felt faint and sick at heart, then with a suddeu rush of certainty, the truth dawned upon her, and tremb ling, she ran down the path and met the procession at the gate. She seized Billy, and hustled him unceremoni ously inside; and returning, still at a white heat, addressed herself to the captain: "So you've got him in spite cf me! Well, take him, if you want him. I suppose his body's good enough to shoot at if he ain't got any mind to speak of. But it's a wioked, wicked thing!" Her voice quivered and broke. The young officer grew sober in an instant. "You are mistaken, Mrs. Barlow," he said. "We do not want your hus band. We are only bringing him home safely to you, for he might well meet with insult in such a dress. But don't lock him up again. He deserves bet ter things. He is a hero, and has won the first victory of the war!" With which perplexing speech the men broke into now laughter. "'Bout face! Forward! March!" cried the captain, and they wheeled away. It was some time before Billy's ward robe was replenished with .modern garments, for his wife happened to think of some of his old army duds put awny in the attic, and to his intense delight he found himself again wear ing the dear old bine. The next morn ing, when Company Q passed by on its way to camp, he stood at the gate in a ragged uniform which had been on more, than one hard-fought field, and when the men caught sight of him, a ringing cheer went up for Billy Bar low. Poor old Billy 1 He never guessed the truth, but thought they were cheering for the flag, and when its stars and stripes went marching along before his eyes again to the stirring sound of fife and drum, he put his grizzled head down on the mossy gate post and cried like a baby. And all the while, Mis' Barlow, with set lips and ears that refused to hear, Bat in the kitchen mending the three cornered tear in her black silk skirt It was a matter of history. Boston Herald. Dangers or Honesty. Honesty, as well as the other thing, has its dangers, as a certain Rosa, nurse employed in the family of the French Consul-General at London, has learned to her cost. She happened to find at the foot of tho Column Vea dome a reticule containing a large sum of money and some family papers. A little embarrassed with her find she took the bag to her master and told him how she had found it. On his advice she took it to the police station. Meanwhile, however, a little by-play had been going on. A passer-by had seeu Rosa pick np the bug, aud, won dering why she did not take it to the police station, had advised the police, who at once had commenced to put detectives on the maid's track. What was their surprise wheu Rosa horself walked into the station, and what was Rosa's alarm wheu she heard that a warrant was out for her arrest. Gal iguani's Messenger. Long-Li veil Germans. It is interesting to recall the ex traordinary longevity of the three founders of the German Empire. William 1, was ninety-one, Moltke was also ninety-one aud Bismarck was eighty-three. But, indeed, all the most illustrious Germans of the latter half of the century have been long livod. Rnnke was ninety-one, Curtius was seventy-two, Mommsen is eighty one. The poet Geibel was seventy, Wagner wa seventy, Liszt, seventy five, and the present Chancellor it seventy-seven. THE MERRY SIDE OF LIFE, STORIES TOLD BY THE FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Kiss Miss Origin of Popular Term An Accurate Calculation The Author of It Canoe Racing Why He Walked An Abstract Noun, Etc., Etc. "To kiss," said ho, "Is rapturous bliss." "To kiss," quoth she, "necessitates s miss." "To ki9 amiss," protestod he, "Is an aggravation;" 'To miss a kiss," responded she, "Is poor navigation." Origin of a Popular Term. Laplander to Finlander: "I see your Finnish." An Accurate Calculation. She "How many people were there on the beach yesterday?" He "One for every two feet." The Author of It. "I wonder who originated the phrase, A limb o' the law.'" "Oh! Judge Lynch, I suppose." Philadelphia Bulletin. Canoe Racing. First Aquatio Youth "How was the canoe race to-day?" Second Aquatio Youth "Dull. Aw fully dull. Only three upsets." New York Weekly. An Abstract Noun. "Why do you call old Skinflint an abstract noun?", "Because he is soinethinng you can think of, but cannot 'touch.'" Chi cago Evening Post. A Scarce Article. "Bridget, I told you five times to have muffins for breakfast. Haven't you any intellect?" "No, mum; there's none in the house." Brooklyn Life. Great Fall. "And did he fall on his knees when he proposed?" "No, bnt he was bo rattled that he stepped on the cat and fell on his neck." Indianapolis Journal. Wants Legal Aid. "He sent her documents giving het control of their child." "Gracious! I wish I knew where to obtain documents that would give us control of our child!" Puck. Why He Walked. Witticus "Here's a funny thing." Critticus "What is it?" Witticus "Account of a mau who walked in his sleep because he dreamed he had no carfare." Ram's Horn. Business Lunch. "Young feller, this soup is seasoned to death." "Yes, sir. Every customer adds a little seasonin' to it, I reckon. You ort to git in earlier." Chicago Tri bune. A Palpable Hit. Osmond "Well, thank heaven, you've never seen me run after people who havo money." Desmond "No; but I've seen peo ple run after you because you didn't have money." Life. Not an Asylum Subject. Stranger "That man is evidently orazy. Why is he not put in an asy lum?" Native "His property is so heavily mortgaged that none of his relatives want it" New Yqrk Weekly. Challenged For Cause. "I object to that man on the jury," shouted the lawyer for the defense. "On what grounds?" inquired the court. "I'm the man that persuaded him to get married." Detroit Free Press. now She Knew. "My wife doesn't play chess; but she can always tell wheu a game is growing interesting." "How?" "Well, she says the more worried I look the more I'm enjoying it." Puck. The Reformer. Bobby "A reformer is somebody who wants to do something for the people, ain't he, popper?" Mr. Ferry "Sometimes he is, but he is more likely to be a man who wants to do things to people." Cin cinnati Enquirer. L'Knfant Terrible. Caller (to child whose mother has left the room for a moment) "Come here to me, my dear." Enfant Terrible "No, I mustn't do that. Mamma told me I must stay sitting in the chair, because there's a hole in the cushion." Is That It? Littlo Edward "Papa, why do they call those funny-looking, two-wheeled carriages hansoms?" Papa "I think it's because it takes some han'some balancing on the port of the drivers to keep from tipping the horses up iu the air." Chicago News. Ranks Not Good Enough. . Kind Old Party "Do you deposit your savings iu the bauk every week, my little man?" Ned the Newsy "Naw; de bauks ain't safe enough ter suit me. De money I saves every week I packs in barrels and dry goods boxes aud stores 'em away." In Other Days. "What wheel do you ride now, Bearings?" "The same as always, only this year's make." "And your wife?" "Oh! she is riding some sort of cheap wheel. I forget the name." "But yon both used to ride aud swear by the same make." "Yes, I know; but that was before we were married." Puck, PUT TO FLICHT. This hero of the conflict was a man of valor rare. He'd face a battleship with frowning guns and never care. He quietly commanded and was instantly obeyed, and when the foemen saw him they were utterly dismayed. His nerves would show no tremor in a shower of shot and shell; He kept bis self-possession as he struggled long and woll. In all his IK'e it never once occurred to him to run Until they'd signod a protocol and said that war was done. But in bis quiet office, where he scanned bis pnpers o'er, . & fearful pallor seized him when a sharp knock shook the door, and the messenger politely handod him a lengthy list Of the fair ones in the hallway who were waiting to be kissed. Washington Star. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Because a man has wheels it does not follow that he is noted for his graceful carriage. Boston Trauscript "You are not printing much war poetry now," said a caller to the ed itor. "No; I have erected a trocha." i-Judge. "How does Mrs. Gargoyle come to know bo much of the Gummey family affairs?" "Gargoyle bought Gum mey's parrot." "How long does it take you to do np a white ruffled skirt?" Laundress "Generally about two washings, ma'am." Life. "Was your parting with George as affecting as you expected?" "No; I had a horrid cold-sore on my lip." Cleveland Plain Dealer. "Are the people well bred at youi boarding house?" "Don't mention it. We even havo to eat up the stale pieces iu the forfc of bread pudding.' - l love my work. It's loss would grieve, I could not bear the sorrow. Bo frugally I strive to leave A plenty for the morrow. Washington Star. "There are ways and ways ol breaking the ice," said the diner-out "I once took a girl out to dinner whose first remark to me was. 'Do you talk or listen?' "Tit-Bits. Sho couldn't stay but a minute. And sho wouldn't sit down, oh, no; But she kept our dinner waiting A long hult hour or so. , Chicago ltocord. Johnny had been playing around the piano and had had a fall. "What are you bawling about?" asked Bertie, contemptuously. "It was the soft pedal your head hit." Loudon Tit Bits. Pruyn "Have you heard that hor rible story about old Stifle being buried alive?" Dr. Bolus (hastily) "Buried olive? Impossible! Why, he was onoof my patients." Roxbury Gazotte. "This," said Mr. Flitter, "is a pic ture of the only girl I ever loved." "How cleverly," said Miss Wyse, as she looked at the portrait, "they do get up these composite photographs!" -Truth. "We are in danger," said one Span ish statesmau, "of sinking iuto obli vion; of being almost forgotton by thfi rest of the world." "Never!" replied the other proudly. "We still have our debts." Washington Star. "I ofteu wonder," said Miss Sprockot, "what becomes of the popu lar songs. They are so soon forgot ten." "They meet with a dreadful fate," replied Mr. Spokes. "How is that?" "Everybody murders them." "Say," remarked the juvenile philosopher to his father, "I've beeu down watching the ducks in the water to-day, and I've decided that if our ears grew between our toes we could swim just as easily." Adams Free man. "Mother," said Miss Dollie Now rich, "cau't father afford a seat in Parliament?" "A seat?" echoed the good lady, scornfully. "My dear, your father is rich enough to have a whole sofa if he desires it" London Tit-Bits. "General," exclaimed the subor dinate officer in the Spauish army, "what shall we do with these bundles of typewritten victories?" "Hold on to 'em. Maybe Don Carlos will give ns a chance to work some of 'era off yet." Washington Star. Wouldn't Miss the Chauce: ".She says that he proposed to her, but that they are not engaged." But they knew her and they laughed loug aud loud. "The only problem," they said, "is to decide which of the two statements is false." Chicago Post Mrs. Nooritch "I suppose you have noticed littlo Johnuie's awful lapses iu grammar? I really must keep him from the servants." The Neighbor "Really? I was of the opiuion that he had learned them from his grandfather." Indianapolis Journal. As for the beautiful pariah, she merely sneered. "Wretched neigh bors!" she exclaimed. "They shall yet come to me! Look, I have wealth! I shall have a telephone put iu my house! Ha, ha!" Oh, what a power have riches to compel social recogni tion. Detroit Journal. Coal Humeri hy Stramnlilp. The amount of coal consumed by a vessol during a voyage depends very largely upou the speed, for the con sumption of coul increases almost iu a geometrical ratio to the speed. There are many ships which burn fro'm 100 to 300 ton of coil per day, tho lowest consumption beiug when the vessel is going at a moderate rote. Our men-of-war do uot consume so much iu proportion as swift passen ger steamers which ply betweeu Eu ropo aud America, for, uuless iu an emergency, they are not driven at the highest attainable speed. The ocean passenger steamers ofteu burn from 2500 to 3500 tons during a rasssgf lasting six toseven days.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers