V J r 4 1 '.1 ( I Vt! Lrable ! Economical! H. r. HUHWEIEIt, THE CONSTITUTION-THE UNION AND THE ENFOKCEMEXT OF THE LAWS. Editor and. Proprietor. the I,,v VOL. XLII. MIFFLINTOWX, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA. WEDNESDAY. SEPTEMBER 2G, 1SSS. NO. 40. Ml - WI.TL.M1. m AW O., Burlington, Vt I NTS Sr.;Tr FTY MILLION"; w, w, ,uth()r - , i us la.,, at.. 11 llO . Jilll, ... "'' ralZ . u.1., .... ..tt.,,. if ,.,. .,. To mtroduca ,t into A KTTf1! F4M1IFV .." - . v.f.r- LADIES' pfE JOURNAL kcTlCAL HOUSEKEEPER to VT, 7889 balance of thi yw ILY 9f( CENTS r!r!SB . n-1 Dinner rart?e?HnSe! " 1" I 1 ''"-Tt. le"t, iup ; 1 1 1 ' -I'll n. i . iirt4-i WuinfB want . ! ' ' ; t 1 tciu.n g-en. how - V '-.t t have, mn.i how t i c -Mi cr giiiil, prcr 1 1 ( ;"-!: A i . nniAnirtftv '-' ' ' r -.i- H ttv UUfcl 4H I .a,u, git l.i' . a .i'.J M '.;ullf. -:tn'i l .ie IliuitrateJ 3tori. .vcri m ; i M PJnntw tr-tW u'.u f , l ' r n j 1 1 OU." :-.er C T-er - r?" !evpfi to .::t ( v ii' t :'...lrrn. tt.trtMtinc k "ti vif r 1 BMb .; ,, , i f. r t -rtll ,trT)ni th - naJr T Am 'itemcrtfi for tck r I .i-.tt ' K nilergoitea. li ? ruSUSrll.JG CO..Phi7a7ofiia C 1 Si n a.7 Tnfl- F-rr-ot RrtTOTwJ. 'r KI IN K'8 UK'-AT NKHVE HHSTOREH Wl.. ttm wm jk t. N. & J. B. EOBEMI, ; v.-:r;U 4 ttfrlicnl Office Psi ,.. t.i i-v. .. of 'rf. 1 , .ri.-l.t tlTfe 'inn ! -lit .iu WANTED: At. I N I I OK HUS( Ol NTT. E-SIZE CRAYON PICTURES. ...I H-t A 11.1(7.. m i 1 ruli!iliii.i.V l'riiillnjC i . .ti 1 1 pn v. i m.. rmt. ,:,,r'... iiic . tn ; V ? " -'J .. U. 1.N..UAII u M" I r ,4,,,i 'V CWtn:.t.F,5U .... f.. .i. DR. LOBBil :;7.;,:?.;-;:vVii V M 1,11- I- M--"" ' . ... ...... I.-I- li'M,,t a . ii it ar 11 L . uri l.M TABntl HUM . 1 1 " new Hy! eT - . tm tfl..b-toi.',L?lIi XLE GREASE . ... li.. . S . .v l.l-..ii.- - OHT13ER?rPACIFI0. LOW P.1ICE RAILROAD LASM ...... j .u'm. W Hit!!'"1. Jl-biaii'" ARYLAND fAFSjj; l . . I.,.,. KM. II ! A lair's Pab.tSS; n.ni Mux. Hi r m PIUM HA31T P35SS I I.H' llUf-llf-. -W'J-" il"ff 1 AJ-luw. "L..- i SO With TTmms f I eou'.il know that aftr ml! Ihriw hntj ImiuiU bava rl to thrall. V whotu In iite tba fat diTid Sbi.ul.l wti; iiumb-r atila Ly aiila- n.ut una icraan .ray woald arup Ita dew itlljr .ilk alxire m two. All wuulil to wll; for I should ba At lat, drar Idtiu braat. with thee! riow tr-t to know till dnt of ours. M mi:' inir, wi'.l tha K.f-am tl.iwm 'lLa t-riit of li-vi s, tlia aucc-birtls ton. At onro aernaa our reat lie blown. In., breath nt uu. mia hrat of rain Mk'' icrn tha earth abuva ua twaint Ah. wit and at ran cm, fur I ahouM tie, AC hist, dear tender heart, with thael Put 1 1 1 tha rarth mar luterven I'll v ...u'.' of ivst and mltia liatwaan And l.'iiuea uf laud and wuln of jray atrrtrh and t-s between our pravei., FliT brl with autumer licht ha warm, Li nodrif: hi-ap, in wind and atorm Mr piilow, wl..e one thorn will be, l.eiovpil, that I am nut with thett Put if thera b a b.UfuI apliera Wlirra h.uneHirk miuli, divide.1 here. And waiiiliritnj wide in narleas quest. Mall tlnd their luiiud-lur heaven or It iu that lulinr, happier birth We niet the inyn wa niiwaed on earth, All will lie well, for I shall be. At lant. dear lovnm heart, with thei-t FEOUOIi DTJRSAY. It was not a jilctureaiiue place, but '.hern wa. soiuethlntc quietly beautiful itxiut it, evi-ji wn in the wlntenesa of itiow, au.l uniltr tlie lron-(rray sky of February. llie low lulls, grouped ilaiost arouml tbe village, suggested the 3i. ft Ktfetiery of the place In sunt' uier; ami the dream 7 brook, almost a river, that liowed ao slowly in Its wan- .lerinifs that it was stUHy frczen now, lul.l of many delicious nooks when a July sun glinted down on Its waters. A man driving into the village through its main street, sitting In a ilaioty cutter, and behind a shining, Ufty-lM.k:iix Iiorse, thought all this as he reined 111 his horse to a walk. "I'd like to try for trout in that brtxik," he ."aid to himself, and do be lieve 1 .1 run down here next summer. It would l a thousand times better than the places I usually visit. Rather alow hers now, I fancv. I should die of itianiu.ui in a rk." As he thought thus, from a little red Hchool-house near, the children came pouring out, some twenty of them, and in the next moment, as If In a hurry. the teacher aiiieared. drawiug her t,awl and hood closer, as she came down the narrow path in the snow, The man involuntarily checked his horse to a slower walk. He hail no just readied the fence opposite the school -house. t Jupiter!" his full and handsome lips murmured behind his beard. "I must paint her picture perhaps taste her mutitli oh. how divine a mouth!" No w( man hearing htm would have thought that tone or those words agree able, tliouh he who uttered them owned a faultless face, and was appar ently the most tender and chivalrous of men. 1'ew women hail ever divined the character of Feodor I'Orsay, and least of all was it likely that this one could, la the next instant he had ut tered the exclamation "Ahl" and had jumped from the sleigh and was bend lug solicitously over her, for just as she li lt the gate she slipped and fell. He lut over l.er, a tender and flattering respect in his manner, and raised her upou his at in. "Are you hurtT" the girl faintly heard a low melodious voice ask, and in that one instant, despite all in her life that should have counteracted any such Influence, in that moment was the first slight step made in that path she was to walk. l.ncla Earle, struggling against the tlea.llv faiutuess the pain in her ankle caused her, answered, "I believe so. anil then lost sight and seuse of every thing A smile of pleasure mingled with a l.H.k of concern upon the man's face as he put her carefullv upon the seat of his cutter. He Kit beside her, chafed her hands with snow, and laid hands ful of It upon her temples. While he labored to restore her, he noticed more chv-ely the beauty and grace of leature which had ut Crst attracted him. l'alely olive was her face; the fore head pure and broad, with eyes beneath it of a soft, pleading brown, lips not full, but naturally crimson, with the faintest indescribable curve In them that suggested a lack of strength of character. "What a fortunate fellow I am," lie was saving to himself, when she opened her eye and met the deep and earnest ixi of his own. "You are ltter?" he said softly. "I am afraid you have sprained your ankle." He deftly arranged the furs about her iu a way that left her perfectly at ease, and she was not a little pleased that she inspired In this stranger such respectful admiration. "Yes. I must have hurt my ankle," she said, in a very weak voice, for the pain was intense, though something had called a Hush to her cheeks, lie gathered up the lines and said: "You will term'.t me to drive you hom I am sorry to trouble yon." she murmured indistinctly, feeling on the verge cf again fainting. "Which wajr"he inquired. Ignoring her remark. "Straight on," she replied; the house next to the church, this side." Then she sank back and clasped her hands turhtlv. her eves closed, her heart thankful for the seed to which the stianuer nut his horse. When the sleigh had almost reached the htf.e brown house she had designa ted thev met a young man trudging through" the snow, his arms swinging vigorously and his head bent as te wa:keii. stepping asiuo ior mo to mis, he raised his eve, and his face aside lor tne sieigu :.,;iL t.nishment. a slmht tli.ee of anger mingling with It. l'Or?ay saw him, though he gave no aikTii of it. As the sleigh drew up before the farmhou th vounz man stood and watched It. then suddenly sprang for ..ri .,,..1-.. 1 tha stranirer almost rn.l.Cv m .te ntid took the girl In his itruia mid rarr led her to the door. Lucia could not speak; but s.ie looked her surprise, as she had not seen him leir. Half ashamed of his im petuosity, the youaj man averted his eve ir..m i.,r i-lance. and In silence nassnl be the Questions of Mrs. Earle. who hurriedly pulled the lounge to the lire and gently Ui 1 Lucia upon it. "1 beg your pardon." said lionald Euuar. lookihi: ton wd D'Orsay, wno leaned against the door. "Miss Earle on my friend, and I was very much alarmed at her pallor." D'Orsay smiled, and made a gesture with his hand as if it was an o flense easily forgiven. For an Instant the two saen looked at each other. Edgar, browned and bearded, with erect mien and noble face, took Uie gaze of that slender and graceful man, with his patrician face, liis deep and powerful gray eyes, and from that moment the two instinctively hated each other. Will you go for the doctor. Ron ald?" said Mrs. Karle; "something must be applied to allay the swelling and the pain." Edgar left the room, and Mrs. Earle looked admiringly at the handsome stranger, feeling unknowingly that per sonal magnetism which he exerted in greater or less degree over all women and many men, adranced toward him and said: "Accept my thanks for your kind ness to my daughter. She would have suffered still more, but for your atten tion." i am very glad I could serve you or her," he replied. "Forgive me if I persist in remaining untd 1 know the doctor's verdict. Such accidents are very troublesome sometimes." Lucia, lying there with closed eyes. heard his sweet, deep voice talking with her mother heard it without knowing or caring what were the words: but she vaguely felt that there was sonethiug powerfully attractive in those tones, as there was in the face that had bent so solicitously above her. I Orsay knew better than to linger too long, and when the doctor had said it was a severe sprain, and would take weeks to recover wholly, he bade them adieu, and rode up to the only hotel in the town. The landlord was obsequi ous, for In this season a guest was rare. I will take your best room for a week or two," carelessly said D'Orsay. and lugged up to that room his sketch book and portmanteau. He had intended to stop only for a hurried dinner, and then push on to the city: but with his usual ease, he hail said to himself that he could mid a few winter sketches here and there. which would be something new. He threw himself down before the Ore in his room, and waved the servant away who had come in with a light. The man's face was not so much evil as reckless and selusu and that, in deed, is evil enough. A selfish Sybarite he looked, despite his homely surround ing, as he sat with his feet stretched toward the blaze, his white band slowly smoothing his golden. Vandyke-biiaped beard, his eyes having a dreamy smile in them. He took out a cigar-case and lit a cigar, saying: These little country places are not so bad, after alU What a piquant game that young ploughman will make it! Well, let me have a bit of recreation in the shape of a harmless flirtation. then back to town and to work." Then, musingly watching t'.ie au-.oke Curious bow that girl will settle down into a humdrum old matron, by Jovel" D'Orsay tramped over the fields with his sketch-book under l.is arm. and during his stay iu the country made two or three niasteriv bicetehes, for the man was talented, and had already mounted hih upon the ladder. Hut almost every evening fo.i-id him In the room which held I.ucla i-a;!e, showing her sketches, talking glowingly of his future and Ids art, read.ng to her, sit ting on a low seat near her lounge, every movement graceful; every glance of his eyes express. ug much, but sug gesting; more to the c'.rl who lay and listened, her heart aroused, her whole life moved deeply, never satisfied. There came a Gush and a fever to her life, a terrible longing for some vague. Indefinite something which banished forever the calm content, the certain iov she had known before he came while the looked forward to a life with Ronald Edgar. She looked forward to that now. but with an uncomfortable dullness that seemed almost regret. The girl drank the cup which this man held to her 1 pi. without strength to refuse It, What could the innocent, the weak and unsophisticated country girl do in combat against a danger she did not even know? That 1) Orsay took good care she should not Know No one. surely not Lucia or her mother knew the kind of a man who had come to be a constant aud expected visitor. Even Mr. Earle, gruff and suspicious at Grst, yielded to the charm of D'Orsay 'a manner, and was load in his praise. March had long since come, bearing in its last days a latni and sweet, pre monition of the June that was in so near a future. There bad been an arly thaw, and patches of gray meadow aud field appeared under the warm sun's rays. Back of the school house. upon a little knoll, half a dozen pine trees made a favorite spot In summer. and apparently the soft wind tempted D'Orsay to walk back and forth there when Lucia's shool was dismissed. EJgar, walking by, saw him there. and in a moment more the children came flocking out. The little, elegant figure, with its sketch-book eternally under its arm. paused in its walk and leaned against a tree, watching for Lucia. Edear. his eyes flashing Are, all the unhappmess he had known for the past few weeks goading him on to a mad f urv ot iealousv aud suspicion, waikea on out of sight, but not out of sight of the school house. It seemed to his throbbing eyes and tirain that Lucia would never come out; then he began to hope it ws not an Ksslrnation mar. sne aia not snow tha artist was waiting for ber. as he hint at first tboucht she did, and gleam of hope dawned in his soul as ne thniiirhL - . - . , . 1 1 Dunns? the five minutes ue bioou, ue went over again in his mind, as he was continually doing now, all the phases of the changes In Lucia. How of late utia had actually avoided mm, nan shrunk from his look, had colored and withdrawn If be had touched her ever - !,.. ..i,t 1,. had bee so lightly-how last night he had beg ged for a parting a., aim had murmured something about not worthy. .n. ha had fiercely asked "were her iin then another's?" She had not replied, save to hide her head on his arm and bee him to be patient with k.. iinw lonir was this to Iastr v'inuiw the school house door opened. .1.1 .h came out. Edgar's heart beat suffocatingly. She glanced up at the little grove, aud D Orsay came aown, w&lkine fast, ne stooped tenderly and devotedly toward ber. seemed to say hi ... in a. low voice, then gave i-r Ida arm. and they walked off hwlv over the brown, sodden fields. K.iirar turned away and went home, with death in his soul. Why. of all tha times he had happened to se them together, did it aeeu. as If the eight would kill him? It had been all he could bear before, but now be felt a horrible sword stabbing his very life. He tried to keep away from her home, but he could not; and two hours later, when tha twdight had deepened Into night, be went up the narrow foot way and opened the door slowly, with some misgiving in his heart. "Lucia has not come in yet," said Mrs. Earle, in reply to Ronald's in quiry for her. She said Mr. D'Orsay had asked ber to come up to the hotel to see a large painting of hl, after school, and I suppose that she has gone. She'll soon be back, though." Edgar sat down and took up a book. but he could not read. Then he lis tened with apparent calmness to the praises Mrs. Earle lavished upon the artist. Thus two hours went by, and both began to look for the return of Lucia. Every minute added a nercer heat to the flame burning in Edgar's veins. Let him see her once more and he would restore her promise he could not hold her by such an empty form of words. At precisely nine o'clock Air. Earle came In, and, as usual if Lucia was not visible, as he pulled off his boots, ue usked: "Where's sis? Time she was back. high time!" he muttered, when lie was told. "Hadn't you better go over and fetch her, Ronald?" he asked, looking at the young man, who sat on the other side ot the lire, shading his eyes with his hand. "He'll accompany Ler, of course," was the reply, iu a low, quiet voice. In an hour or more Mrs. Earle began to fidget about the room to go to the door aud look out, and peep restlessly behind the curtains into the moon lighted night beyond. "It's a shamel she said at last. 'Mr. D'Orsay don t know what pro priety Is in the country." 'Lucia knows, anyway," remarked the father. "But I'm too tired to sit up; most 'leven." Aud the farmer stupidly disappeared into his bed room. "I shaut go to bed until she comes," Mrs. Earle said, growing more wide awake every minute, her thin, nervous face becoming paler and more alive. As for Edgar, he sat in utter silence, powerful dislike upon him toward going over to the hotel auu bringing the girl home. She was acting of her own free will, he would not apiear and force ber to walk back with him. J-et her go her own way. But he old wish she would not set gossips of the village talking. He had received pitying or suspicious looks already. The night wore on. The clock on the church tower rang out one, and with that sound the mother brought her shawl and said: She must have fallen on the road her ankle is not strong and we have let her stay there all this time." Edgar buttoned his coat, thinking to binself, "she would not be alone." But be could not bear this waiting any longer. The two walked hurriedly along toward the hotel, which was nearly three-quarters of a mile distant. They did not say a word; the mother looked along the muddy road, as if expecting to find her daughter in those black pud dies that gleamed so iu the moonlight. for a full moon rode calmly in the heavens. The hotel was dark: no light shone n any window. Mrs. Earle advanced to knock, when Edgar took hold of her arm, saying hearsely: 'What are you going to tell them?" "I shall ask if my daughter is here. of course." she replied. "With whom? What will they think?" he asked, with white lips. The mother started back, exclaiming "My God. Do you mean to say " "That whatever the cause of this. the accursed fools will talk!" Edgar said in that concentrated voice that means so much. "But I must ask for her,"' she said. "Do not mention him," was the re ply. After much Knocking, the landlord put his head out of the window aud exclaimed: "Bless my soul! It's Mrs. Earle. "Wt at time In the evening did Lucia leave here?" asked Mrs. Earle. The man replied with the utmost surprise: She hasn't been here at alL I saw her walking across the fields with M r. D'Orsay this afternoon, but te left on the half-past five train. He's gone for good." The two would not slay to answer any questions that were flung dowu at them, but turned away aud walked rapidly homeward. The woman's face wore a scared look a look that snowed that all her thoughts and hope had been betrayed, made false in a way she could not understand. But Edgar's face showed no such appearance. The uign ana irauk cour age always evident there was changed to some dogged and relentless resolve- There was a dagger like gleam in his yes, and bis pale l!is shut with a firm ness never to be relaxed or soiieneu The two did not speak until they reached the farm-house door; then Edear said: 'There's no train until six o ciock in the morning," forgetting that morning was near at hand. 1 Buau go uowu to New York on that." "Let me see you before you go," she said. He bowed assent and walked away. In the dull gray of the morning. Edcar stood with Mrs. Earle, The latter held in her hand a note, which she gave to the young man, saying in a w hlsDer: 'She left It in the hymn-book, for she knew 1 always read a hymn in tlu morning, but never at night." The note was short enough, vj tne yellow candle light, Edgar stopped to read it: My heart, my souL are not my own. lie has taken me 10 an enctianieu land, and I know nothing but my love for him. O my mother, rorgive me: There is another whom I cannot aak to forgive me; but even he would not wonder, did he but know the power with which I love the attraction of Mm I lore. ThouzU you cast me off, and 1 am unworthy, I am always your loving daughter." Edgar handed the letter back, say ing: 'I shall find him." He turned abruptly away; he could not bear to look into that mother's face. He strode down the path and off to the depot, and in a few minutes was whirled away toward the city, which he felt confident, held him for whom he was searching. Or.ce arrived in the city, it was not difficult to find the studio of an artist so well known as Feodor D'Crsay; tout' the artist was not there. Ue had been in for a moment that very day, tbey told him. but he said that he was goins off for a fortnight's visit. "Where?" asked Edgar. I "Don't know, really." Edgar went away, and the young man addressed said to his companion: "What the deuce has D'Orsay been doiug now? Shouldn't want precisely I that look on anybody's face who asked lor me." D'Orsay has probably stolen his sweetheart." wa3 the reply. ery likely. That man looks as If Keodor might be found some day wlUi a hola in his bead." moking meditatively, they dropped '"on. with a fair chance of getting a ... . . . ..lhsnHuim, wurttt I Ita tMTui.nnt the subject, while Edgar weut to look for cheap lode nigs. In which to await D'Orsay's return. Of the days that passed then, we can say nothing. The landlady wondered about the pa'.e, stern-faced lodged, but, 6be couldlearn nothing coucerniiighim. .three weeks went by. when, one day, walking restlessly up Broadway, in the crovd hurrying around him a man brushed past with a woman on his arm. A thrill of some ntterable love, some terribly complicated feeling made him tremble, as he saw the man was D'Or say, the woman Lucia. He turned and followed them, keeping carefully out of their sight. He did not go but a little way before he changed his mini aud turned Into another street. The next morning D'Orsay found in his oflice a note, requesting him to come to a certain number to see a gen tleman on business. He read it. and thought it relative to some order for paiutiug, and was soon sauntering slowly toward the house designated. "Rather a curious place for a patron," he said to himself, as he mounted the steps of a sliabby house. He uttered an exclamation of sur- pr e as he was ushered into the pres ence of KJitar, but extending his hand nonchalantly, said: o you pay the town a visit? I thought you rather exclusively fond ol tt e country." Ronald did not see the hand. IT could hardly look In calmness upon that smiling, triumphant face. D Orsay turned and sat down, say ing: "You wish to see me, I believe?" The other went to the door and turned the key, put'.iu it into hb pocket. D'Orsay, despite bis smiling and as sured face, felt somewhat less easy, foi he saw sooiething iuvincible in tht eyes of the man who now SLood befort him. "Yes, I wished to see you." EJgai said. "Will you tell me if the lady you took from P.mgerfield with you li now your wiler " D'Orsay still preserved his easy air. His whits hand softly stroked his beard. Xot exactly. We men, you know. don't make such girls our wives; but then 1 love her dearly. 1 shall pro vide well for her." "Did you ever promise her you would marry her?" - '"" - ' D'Orsay could not 'resist taunting and torturing the man before hitn, dan gerous inougu the sport was. "Oh, 1 dare say I've told her so." he replied. L Igar could not grew paler than he was. He had determined not to bandy words. A stream of fire seemed to leave his eyes. Do you know," he said slowly. 'that I am going to kill you?" "Then you will be hung." said D'Orsay, growing while, but still con tinuing to smile. "That makes no difference," said Ed rar. Even while he was speaking, D'Or say drew a small weapon from his pocket, and snapped it at his compan ion. Something of his self-possesslou left M in when t pistol missed fire. "Fool!" whispered E lgar, seizing D'Orsay 's wrist with terrific strength. "Would you alarm the house? Seel This will not miss! This Is silent!" He held before the artist's eyes a long, slender, glittering knife. D'Orsay tried to wrest his hand away, but he might as well have strug gled with a giaut. Despair itself held his ejes fastened upon that gleaming knife. It hung above him but one Instant, then be felt the blade in his side, surely Mmed. Darkness came before him, aud blood gushed from his wound. Edgar stayed not to see his work, .le quietly lelt the room, locking it carefully from the outside, aud went down stairs. He weut down to the .rharves. A ship was ready to sail for California. He had Just money enough for bis passage, and in an hour more the ship was sailing out of the harbor. It was not until the next morning that his room was opened; then the police and detectives were entirely baflld, for the murderer was far away, and no eye had seen him depart. lie had taken no steps to conceal himself save that oue, but be never was fouud; and, years after, a lonely, haggard looking man slowly accumulated a fortune among tli9 mines. But be never returned home; Le sent no word. He had broken away from his old life, save for the thoughts which would haunt hi in. Six months from the time that D'Orsay was found dead, one mild evening in September a pale-faced woman, young in years but old in sor row, stole up to the farm-house door where Mrs. Earle stood. In the next moment the erring daughter was sob bing, forgiven, upon her mother's bosom. Through love and weakness she had sinned, but she could not sink to the life to which she ghad been tempted after D'Orsays death. Safely surrounded by a mother's love, she lived on, if not happy, at least reach ing a chastened sadness which best befitted one who had been less strong than the tempter. Tracing on Glaum Several years azo a member of a firm of glass manufacturers was traveling through the est. V bile on a rail way which skirts the shores of a large inland lake he observed that the plate glass in the windows ot the Fullman car was marked with mysterious fig ures, undefined in shape, bat of a sing ular airy aud delicate lightness. On in quiry be learned that the marks were made by sand, which was blown against the windows from the beach as the cars passed. Upon returning home he began a series of experiments In airectin? a shower of fine aand against the surface of glass in definite shapes. The result was the discovery of the sand-blast, by which the most delicate figures are out lined upon glass with exquisite light ness and accuracy. A. ItESTACCANT KEEPER'S PL.W Novel Method for Collecting the Bills of Dad Customers. The owner of an uptown restaurant has had so many bad debts lately that he has built a turnstile at his door, and no customer can escape till he has paid the amount of his check. It is claimed that this detention is utterly illegal, and that a citizen who found himself on the wrong side of the gate without the money to pay for his release could be got out promptly on a writ of habeas corpus, and that afterward he could sue for heavy damages for illegal deten- keeper has been advised of all this, but he says he is going to take Iris chances and collect all his bills until some one interferes with him. A heavily built gentleman, with a fierce eye, who looked like a pensioned off prize fighter, got caught In the ma chine the other evening. His tender loin steak, with grilled muffins, cost him Just fifteen cents more than he had. He sailed gayly up to the turnstile and asked the man who worked the appa ratus to charge the fifteen cents to bis account. Jixy," said the money taker. We've got you here and we shall keep you till you pay." The tenderloin steak and the grilled muffins had infused fresh blood and courage into the prize fighter. lie made a dash at the turnstile, but there was a catch like a brake that the jailer worked with his foot. This stopiied It from opening. The jailer sueered. The moneyless customer grew madder and madder. He picked up a chair, and, striking a heroic attitude, smashed the turnstile to smithereens and strode over the smithereens to the door. There he was halted by a policeman. The proprietor of the restaurant trap de manded his arrest, but the customer explained that he had been illegally detained,' and under a ruling of the Supreme Court was entitled to use all the means at his command to effect his escape. It he owed money for his food it must be collected by civil process, because his payment on account showed that he had not intended to defraud. The defaulting customer was allowed to go after he had left his name aud address. The sneer that had lurked on the Jailer's face was transferred to that of the customer. The trap restaurant keeper went inside to wonder how loug it would be before the remaining turn stile was demolished by some other angry diner. V The Awful Court. 'The late Captain James M. Arm strong, of Texas, as honest and patriotic a man as ever lived in any age or coun try, emigrated from Kentucky to Texas immediately after the republic had been organized. Soon after his arrival at Nacogdoches, he found out that the refugees from "the States," who were then quite numerous, were in the habit of holding from time to time what they called "The Awful Court." Lvei newcomer' was arrested. . w brought before the "court," which sat with an imposing array ot officers and spectators in a secluded room, was ar raigned and asked, "What made you come to Texas?" If in his reply lie did not admit that he came as a refugee, the Judge would order him to be whip ped until he confessed, and when he had confessed he was sentenced to treat the crowd. No newcomer was permitted to claim that he was inno cent, or came of his own free will. If the person arrested, however, answered promptly, stating some crime that he had committed before leaving "the States," and giving time, place aud circumstances, he was at onca dis charged without costs. "The Awful Court" was generally presided over by a gentleman who was known to have robbed a gold-mining company, which was the immediate cause of his leaving lieorgia. Oue day in conversation lie observed to young Armstrong, "Young man, we will shortly have you up before our Awful Court." Armstrong, with an air or surprise and diffidence, said he hoped not, and passed on. On the night of that very day he was arrested, aud led through the devious ways to where the awful court was sitting. Although late, the dimly- lighted court-room was thronged. In a few moments the presiding judge ordered him to stand up, and asked him the following question: "Y'oan? man. what made you come to Texas?" Armstrong replied, hesitatingly, with an air of embarrassment. "It was such a mean little thing that 1 don't want to tell about it." The question was calmly put the sec ond time, and received the same answer. Thereupon the judge sternly re marked, "I now ask you for the third and last time, what made you come to Texas?" Armstioug responded, with appar ent confusion: "If 1 must tell, I must. I stole a sheep." "Stole a sheepl" exclaimed the pre siding judge, in real astonishment. Stole a sheepl Men, did you ever hear the like? Young man, what made you steal a sheep?" Armstrong dryly replied. "Because they who came to Texas ahead of me left nothing else in the criminal line to 3o." "The prisoner's discharged, and the court adjourned," said the judge. 'Men, it's my treat." Castles in the Air. Who among us has not builded them? Who, as the long dull years have melted into decides, aud the sil ver threads among his hair lit up the march of time, ls not erected these dream-like, unsubstantial palaces of fancy upon the dim, shadowy corner- lots of the Imagination; And who ever resiled on one of them? Who would not.for the smallest of small considerations, give a quit-claim deed for all the realty and a clear bill for the weird and ghostly structure, furniture and all. And vet we all build castles in the air. The little boy on his painful way to school, with a paper ot tacks in one Docket and a mouth harmonica in another, builds castles in the air. The little girl, the wee toddlekins of the family, as she smooths out the folds of her doll's pink calico dress, builds castles in the a r. And the youth with the mustache three hairs on one side and seven on the other, yet to him heavier than a whitewash brusherects these gaudy structures In the Oriental style of architecture, with towers and domes and spires and minarets; and the maiden fair, first in war, first in peace and first in the b art of the aforesaid be&vlly-beaidfcd aavaller, she, too. reared the fairest of beautiful fairies' homes all in the air. And the patient wife, humming the old tunes of her childhood, and sewing the 959 button on the fatal shlit, builds large and imposing castles in the air. The young husband, who is is to le or, for some time back, has been, erects these glittering fragmentary edifices on the foundations of love or on the shifting sands of defeated ambi tion. Castles in the air. which of all edi fices are the easiest built and the hard est to pull down magic cities of the realm of day dreams, illuminated by the dazzling light of Hope! Call not tneir architects the devotees of vision ary schemes, nope shines through all the corridors of these castles la the air. and sheds its beam far out on the rug ged path of lire. But for these airy fairy castles in the air Ambition's hand might palsied fall, and all the fires of strong impetuous youth die out to smoldering embers of a dead, forgotten past. BUFFALO lilLIS HOUSi; CHAR- 1.1 10. Endowed with Almost Unman 1 11- tlli;reiieei. My gallant and faithfnl horse Char lie, which found a grave beneath the weltering waves of the Atlantic Ocean, was twenty years old at his death. He was a half-blood Kentucky horse, and was bought for me as a five year old In Nebraska. From that time he was the constant and unfailing companion of my life on the Western plains aud iu the "Wild West" exhibition. He was an animal of almost human intelli gence, extraordinary speed; endurance and fidelity. When he was quite young I rode him on a hunt for wild horses. which he ran down after a chase of fifteen miles. At another time on a wager cf live hundred dollars that 1 could ride hirn over the piairle one hundred miles in ten hours, he went the distance in nine hours and forty live minutes. When I opened my "Wild West" show at Omaha, in May. Char lie was the star horse, anil held that position at all the exhibitions in this country and in Europe, where I took the show in ISS4. In Louden the horse attracted a full share of atten tion, aud many scions of royalty solic ited the favor or riding him. tirand Duke Michael of Russia rode Charlie several times in chase of my herd of bn Haloes and became quite attacked to him, lu May last, the English en gagement having closed, we all em barked on the "1 ersian Monarch" at HnllforNew York. On the morning of the 14th I made my usual visit to Charlie between decks. Shortly after the groom reported him sick, and 1 found him in a chill. He grew rapidly worse In spite of all our care, and at tw o o'clock on the morning of the 17th he died. Ills death cast an air of sad ness ovea the whole ship, and a human being could not have had more sincere mourners than the faithful aud saga cious old horse, ue was brought on deck, wrapped In canvass and covered with the American flag. When the hour for the ocean burial arrived the members of my company and others assembled on deck. Standing alone with uncovered head beside the dead, was the one whose life the noble ani mal had shared so long. At length with choking utterance he spoke, and Charlie, for the first time, failed to hear the familiar voice he had been so prompt to obey. "Old fellow, your journeys are over. Here beneath the ocean billows you must rest. Would that I could take you back and lay you down beneath the verdant biilows of that prairie you and I have loved so well aud roamed so freely; but it cannot be. How oft at the most quiet hour have we been jour neying over their trackless wastes! How oft at break of day, when the glo rious sun rising on the horizon has found us far from human habitation. have you reminded roe of your need and mine; and with your beautiful ears bent forward and your gentle neiuh given voice as plainly as human tongue to urge me to prepare our morning Uiill And then, obedient to my call, gladly you bore your burden on, little knowing, little reckoning what the day might bring; so that you and I but shared its sorrows and pleasures alike. Xay, but for your willing speed and tireless courage I would many years ago have lain as low as you are now, and my Indian foe have claimed you for his slave. Yet you have never failed me. Ah, Charlie, old fellow, I have had many friends, but few of whom I could say that. Rest, entombed in the deep bosom of the ocean I May your rest nevermore be aisturDea. I'll never forget you. I loved you as you loved me. my dear old Charlie. Men tell me you have no soul; but If there be a heaven, and scouts can enter there, I'll wait at the gait for you, old friend:" Whereupon Charlie was allowel to slide gently down a pair of skids into the water. CliniiiK to the l'ast. Ecuad or Is a country in which the past still reigns. The buildings are never repaired; the Indians, remember ing the ancient glory of their ancestors, have no songs and no amusements, and the Spanish inhabitants are too poor aud too proud to get much pleasure from the present. One peculiarity of the Indian, showing his attachment to custom, lies In the fact that he will only trade iu the market place in Quito, where bis ancestors have for centuries sold their produce. A traveler upon the highways may meet whole armies of Indians bearing loads of supplies, but he can obtaiu nothing from them until they have reached their accustomed place for barter. The Indian will even carry goods ten miles and sell them for less than be was offered at home. The antbor of "The Capitals of Span ish America" says that he has once met an old woman trudging along with a basket of fruit, aud though be offered ten cents for pineapples, which would only bring ber two aud a half in the market, she preferred taking the dusty iournev of two leagues to being re lieved of her burden at once. A gentleman living some distance from town says that for four years he tried to induce the natives who passed every morning with packs of alfalfa (clover) to sell him some at his gate. He was invariably compelled to go into town to buy It. Nor will the natives sell at whole sale. They will give you a gourdful ot potatoes for a penny as often as you choose to buy, but taey will not sell their stock in a lump. They will sell you a dozen eggs for a real (ten cent), but they will uot sell five dozen for a dollar. A TTIWED 11'OBJL She Had Been Meek All Her Life, But She Finally Flared Up. He was a great, beefy, vicious-looking man, and she a pale, thin little woman with a dejected, brow-beaten look. She waited timidly, meekly and utiedlently behind him as they entered the office of a lawyer in company with a real estate buyer. The beefy despot was about to sell ten acres of land, the proceeds of which he would put so far down Into his own pocket that the meek little woman would never see a dollar of it. she had come along for the privilege of signing the deed. "Hero, ary Jane," said ber lord, you sign your name risht there ou that Hue." "Bill," said she, slowly but firmly. "I ain't goin' to!" " hati" roared Bill. "I ain't goiu' to. Bill at least not just ylt." x ou put your name down thar now, quicker nor wiuk." "Shan't do it. Hill." "Lookee here, Sary Jane, you know me!" "An' I'll make ye 'quainted with me. Bill Jasper." she said, sweetly. 'Lookee here. Bill; you've beard of wo'ms that turn, aiu't ye?" "Lookee here. Sary Jane, if you don't" "Well, Bill, I'm one o' them wo'ms. Bill, you're goiu' to git fifteen hun dred dollais fer that laud, ain't ye. Bill?" "That's nothin' to you!" "Hain't? Now lookee here. Hill Jas per; not one single little scratch of the pen will I make until I've had my thirds o' that money counted out to mel" "Sary Jaue! What you take me fer?" "Count 'em out. Bill 803 '11 git the name o' Sary Jane Jasiier to that document." He raged, he roared, he swore, he shook his clinched list, but the turned "wo'm" never flinched uor si oke ex cepting to say: "Count 'm out. Eilll" And when they were counted out and he had boasted of the surety of having them all back again before night. Sary Jane wa'.ked out. saying as she did so: "Ta, ta. Bill. Wheu you git home you'll find my duds an' most of the other things an' my two cows gone over to my paw'B, an' I'm golu' there too; an' lookee here. Bill, don't you ever dast show your face there; don't you do it. Bill! Iet me git holt of you once with paw an' maw an' my brother. Buck, to back me an' I won't leave enough of you to scrajie up on a shingle. That's the kiud ot a turned wo'm your Sary Jane is. Ta, la, BUly!" Chemically I'lire j..l,l. "Is that pure gold?' asked a pretty girl who was selecting a brooch in a Sixth avenue Jewelry store. "Most cer tainly," answered the jeweler, and the satisfied damsel bought the piu and departea; "Turning to resume a con versation with an older customer, he noticed a look of mild scorn duected at him and said, half apologetically; "Of course that was not strictly true, but it was no lie. What she meant to ask was whether it was real gold, aud not an Imitation, and I answered her meaning truthfully, though 1 never saw any pure gold in my life that I know of. It has a! ways been supposed until recently that chemically pure gold was something, that could not bo produced, but some jeweler in Rhode Island Is said to have discovered a pro cess by which he does produce it, and it is now on the market. "I do not see that it is a particularly valuable discovery, for gold without illoy would be as little durable as lead, jr even lets so. it is very soft and would easily wear away with veiy light friction. As a matter of bu.-lut ss, zul'l eighteen carats line is as near us we ordinarily get to puieuess. That is .hree parts gold to one of alloy. If ess alloy than that is ued the gold is '.ess serviceable, but we do sometimes jse it twenty-two carats fine." The Shah H Toothache. The l'erslan Court Is a relic of bar larism, and the Shah Is nothing moie ,lian a barbarian. If it were not for .he fact that he has absolute power. which he frequently exercises with treat cruelty, his antics would Ikj tmusing. Some time since the Sliali lad the toothache, and the whole court was in au uproar. After all remdies :iad been tried and failed, a Swedish lentist was found who undertook to pull the troublesome mo'.ar, and this ifflr was made a great ceremony. All the court functionaries were com manded to be on hand, and with com mendable wisdom they began by layimf heavy purses of gold at the Shah's ft.!, for, if tho dentist had pulled the w rong tooth, or pulled out only half cf the right one, it is probable that all pres ent, including the dentist, would have been slain. But the dentist got hold i.f tl.e right, tooth, and, amid great bowl ings, jsrked it out of the sublime jaw. Then everybody breathed freer, while the Shah gave one purse and a shawl to the dentist and pocketed all the re.U himself. Who would not be a Persian? From Ilns tn Wealth. The other day a leading Sydney so licitor received instructions from Lon don to hunt up a young man who hail quitted England ten years previously and a draught of JU.'JUO was enclosed to pay his passac home. After a course of advertising a membT of a charitable S'iciety called in and direc ted the solicitor to a certain hotel lu Lower Alexandria, Sydney. The solicitor, knowing the "lay of the country, judiciously sent his clerk down to catch the fever instead of doing it In person. That well-dress--d young man explored the barbarous re gion, dodging through back lanes aud over mud piles and among broken fences that bung wearily and lopsidedly amid abysses of mud, and at last he arrived at a hut which boasted a box and a pile of rags and straw for its sole furniture. A weary woman, who In I once been handsome, and who under happier auspices would be handsome again, begged that they should not lm turned out of their dismal abode until her husband was better, aud a hollow eyed Invalid stretched ou a pile of r.iT-i 111 one corner echoed the petition. And these two were the heirs to a fortune of SloO.OOU. New York has SDO.WO Roman Cattijlics, and the value of their church pronerty u liU.fXW.OOO. N EVt'S IX Ml I EF Claus Spreckles will introduce the beet sugar Industry iu America. The Hebrews iu New Y'ork city have doubled lu number since 1S30. A crusade aeainst the works ol Emile Zola has been liegun in London. Philadelphia has 03'J churches, and is no better than any other city of its size. The leading fortune teller of Faris, Mrae. Moreau, left a fortune of 000. 000 francs. It cost the Emperor of Austria $000,1)00 to eutertaiii the Czar ot Russia for three days. Last year American Baptist ministers died. Their average age was sixty-five years. Ad Jisoii CammacK began life as a m-issenger boy 111 a New Orleans ship ping firm's cilice. Abraru R. Eno made the first part of his fortune of Sid, 000,000 iu a small retail drygoods store. Mrs. George Westinghouse is cred ited with an income or tT.ooo a mouth Iron; natural gas stocks alone. There were 10,021 pauper., lieahie, lunatics and vagrants, iu the .'i,S15,OOU inhabitants of London iu the liist week of July. Sacramento, Cal., promises to ob tain oOOO wild oinnge tie-j from Flor ida and plant them In the stieets fot shade trees. After an abserce of many years coons have reappeared in Connecticut. J hree were csiusht in the vicinity of Norwich recently. Excessive cigarette smoking la blamed for the death of the adopted son aged 23 years of Mayor Kelly, td Weeliawkeii, N. J. L Costi island, on the Florida coast, will soon be one immense, cocoa nut prove, it is said, so rapidly is It being set out with cocoanut tree. A Nebraska pirl chose for her graduating essay the sulject, "The Possibilities of the Broom," and In three weeks received and accepted an offer of marriage. It is sa'd that more fishing tack!e is sold lu America than In any other country in the world. Most of the best and highest priced giades are made hero; the pooler are lmHrled from England. The I'iuU'8 of Lincoln county, Cal., stoned au Indian doctor to death liecause some of Ins patients died. Now they have leaintd that all who died were taking a white doctor's medicine. The youngest millionaire in Chi cago Cyrus II. MeCortnick, who is only 29 and is at the head of the ex tensive ri'ai-r manufactory founded by lis father. lie is unmarried and has a fortune of J1.0 jO.Oimi. The mother of the present (Jeiinau empress is confined in a mad house. She wanted to liecome the wife of Louis Napoleon, when he was presi dent, and would have done so but ior the opposition of tjuteu Vlctoiia. Henry II. died of a broken heart, occasioned try th bad conduct of hut children. William 11L died ot con sumptive habits of body and from the stumbling of his horse. George 1. died from drunkenness, which his physicians politely called an aK plectic lit. Dowager F.Mipress Victoria, widow of Frederick III. lcis an annual in come of 52JO,Oi 0, 1.1,000 or which is derived from England. She will lie oblige to make ;.! many her iioa.inal residence and to visit Jleiilu every year. The piinc'p'il foreign missionary societies of the Unite I States send In ti e agurepa'e jli, .7 V. iite annually for the spread of ItietJospel 111 I t allien lauds. (Jrcat Britain through her va rious snrli t.i .-i expends on Missionaries 54,ol!,".i2. An "oil witch," who can "locate" oil wells as lite oidinaiy conjuier does those ol water, is repotted hum some where In 1 etihsy! v.tnla, and it is said that neai ly a ih-zea irnstiei s ai t? due to lier magic poweis. .'sin- is a Ix-autiful Swede, 1 i."h aud Weil educated, yet now and th.11 turns a 1 i-'.ty ieimy by the gift she cannot eAj.laiu any iu.no ti.an her l.ehuMeis. I.tre trees are rarely moved roots :ind all, mi l theiefnre such a feat ac complished at Port Huron, Mich., is being widely spoken of. The tree is a poplar, and. with Its I. rant-he, towels to a lii igl tof 7"i feet. Being n the way ot a new Htnt railway the tr.e's iciiK.v.il toa (1. sluice of eifht feet w:is d. cid.-d upon and acc.iln-i-l's'.fd without my aj.jaieiit injury to it. Beitullah, a Turkish bandit, has rt airied Atahe, a licautiliil girl whom he had long wooed, and whom he fili ally won ly force, ranting her off iu a laid uion (iiielz-h, where he lived. The ceremony was duly performed in the preseuce of his followers, and 011 its conclusion the hiidt-gmoin wrote) to the l!icia!s of fine! z-h informing them of the wedding and requesting them to pio,eily register it. He threatened them Willi ternl.lo ven geance if they thus failed to legalize his we.ldiiijr. F. O. Young, who is said to be the finest pistol shot on the Pacific Coast, has but one hand and oue eve. His mother accidentnlly knocked his eye out in llogging him for some youthful in Jlscit-lioti. and his father accidentally chopM-.l off his hand. He has encountered the most astounding ailventures with wild an 1 tame animals, ami has been struck by lightning once or tw ice, and yet he has won numerous prizes as a pistol shot, and has been called the "champion left handed pen man of the world." The sum of $100 was deposited in a Hartford (Conn.) bank in s4 and never drawn out, while the jierson who placed it there lias been dead for sev eral years. The heirs to the money, who only recently learne l of its exist ence, will recelve.besides the principal over t2,0O0, repteseuling tLe accrued interest. "Carmen Sylva," the queen cf Rotimania, is having a "poet's cham ber" built, wherein to write her poem?. It is constructed or reeds, surrounded by a high hedge of roses. In the niche of the hedge cages of singing birds are hidden, and iu oue corner there is a fountain, of perfumed water. In the middle of the room Is a mossy bank and a great block of rock that is also covered with moss and hewn In the form of a writing desk. Upon this niosa grow n stone the queeu poetess wiil indite her verses. The ground Is covered with a thick, soft carjiet or green turf, and a hammock is eiuug ou one side w 1th golden cords. t ' 1 f V A, u i ' r;: it ' ' n . 1 1 , 1 1 y V: J ( J !.,'.';.r...' iE55Sifrt
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers