WV4W4' 2gT a? --'tflffihi WWW F. 8GHWEIEB, TUB CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. VOL. 1 . MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. SEP I EMBER 9. 18. NO. 39 CHAPTEll XII. (Continued.) "Then listen. I vu born in Honduras, the child of a Spanish lady and of a friend of the old Englishman, Cundall, him from whom your brother's wealth was derived. That friend was a scoundrel, a man who tricked 017 mother into a marriage with film under a false name. When they had been married for some few years, and when another child, ray sister, bad been born, she found out the deception, and he killed him." "Killed him!" Penlyn exclaimed. "Yes, dead! We Spaniards never allow a wrong- to pass unavenged. She showed him the evidence of his falsehood in one Land, and with the other she shot him dad upon his own veranda. She was tried and instantly acquitted, and, in con sideration of the wrong she had Buffered, law was made constituting her legally bis wife. But the disgrace was to her a high-minded, noble woman too much; she fell ill and died. Then the old man, Cundall, seeing that it was his friend's evii-doing that had- led to oar being or phans, wild that henceforth we should be Lis care. So we grew up, and I had learnt to look upon myself and my sister as his heirs, when one day there came another who, it was easy to see, had supplanted us. It was the English lad, Walter Cun dall." "I begin to see," Penlyn said. "At first," Senor Guff acta went on, I fisted him for spoiling our chances, but at last I could hate him no longer. Grad ually, his gentle disposition, his way of Interceding for me with his ancle, when I had erred, above all hla tenderness to my poor sister, who wss sick and deform ed, won my love. ' Had be been my broth er I could not have loved him more. Then then, as years went on, I committed a fault, and the old man cast me off for ever. Another man tried to supplant me with the woman I loved she was worth 0. man's lore; . but no matter how I avenged myself. But from that day the old man turned against me, and would neither see nor hear of me again. A year or two passed and then I heard from Walter, for my sister and I had left Los Torros (the town where we had all lived) and had gone elsewhere, that the old man was deaJ. 'He-has left everything to me,' Walter wrote, 'and there is no mention of you or Juanna. but be assured neither of you shull ever want for anything.' " "Stop," Lord Penlyn said, "you ueed tell me uo more. I know the rest." "You know the rest?" Senor Guffanta aid, looking fixedly at him, "You know the rest?" "Yes. You are Corot." CIIAPTEIt XIII. A bewildered look came over the Span Card's face, and then, after a second's pause, he said: "Yes. I am Corot. It was the name given me by the Mestizos amongst whom I played as a boy, and it kept to me. It Is you, then. Lord Penlyn, who has Bet this Dobson to look for me?" "Yes; we fonud your letters to him, and from oue of them we believed you to lie in England. We thought that that -" "That I killed him?" "You threatened him in one of your letters. We were justified in thinking so." ! "He, at least, did not think bo. Head this." He took from his pocket a letter writ ten bv Walter Cundall duriug the few days he had been back in England, unci gave it to 1'enlyu. It run: "Juno. INS. "My Dear Corot: "I am delighted to hear you are in Eng laind. and have got an appointment us agent for Don Rodriguez in I-omlon. Per haps, now, I shall have some respite from those fearful threats which, at interval, from your boyhood, you have hurled at me, at Juanna, and every one you really love. Come and see nie wheu you can, only come as late as possiCle, as I am out much; and we will have a talk about the old place and old times. "Ever yours in baste, W: C. p, s. I wish poor Juanna could have lived to know of your good fortune." "Do you think I would murder that mau. Lord Penlyn?" Senor Guffanta ask-, ed quietly. "Thut man who, when he heard of my good fortune, could think of how happy it would have made my belov ed sister she who Is now in her grave." Lord Penlyn noticed the self-cotistrain-e-.l calm of the mau, and told himself that he spoke with such an air of certainty that it was impossible to doubt him. For one moment the thought came to his mind that this apparent calmness, this certainty of finding the murderer, might tie a rule assumed by Guffauta to prevent suspicion falling upon bini. Hut uu re flection that thought took flight. Had he been the murdi-rer he would never have revealed himself, would never have allowed it to lie known that he was Corot, the man against whutu circum stances had looked so black. And Cuudall's letter was sufficient to show that what the Senor had told him., about the friendship that had existed be-' tween tbem, was true. "You must know more than any of us, Senor Guffanta, as no doubt you do to inspire you with such coulidem-c of find ing bim. Had be any enemy in Hondu ras, who may now l-e iu Euglnud, and bare done this deed?" "To my knowledge, none. He was a man who made friend, not enemies." "How, then, do you hoie to tin J the man who killed him?" "I hope nothing. Lord Penlyn, for I am sure to find him. What will you say when I tell you that I have soeu his murderer's face?" "You have seen his face? You know It!" the other exclaimed, springing to his feet. "Oh, let me at once send for the de tectives and lawyers, so that you may de scribe him to them, and let them endeavor to find him. But," he said sulJVn!y. "where have you seen him?" There was an almost conteniptiiou. smile upon the Senor Gnffanta's face ai be said: "Send for no one at least not yet If by the dJlectivcs you mean Dobson, the heavy mn, he will not assist tue, mid of the lawycn I know nothing; and at pres ent I will not tell yon when and where I 'live seen t'lis man. But. sir ,"f. 1r.l Penlyn, I know one thing. When tnat Baa ami I once more stand face to face, Walter Cundall, who shielded me from bis ancle's wrath, who was as a brothel to my beloved Joanna, will be avenged." ..What will yon do?" Penlyn asked In an almost awe-struck whisper. "Yon will not take the law into your own hands and kill him?" J?2io; it may be not. But with these sands alone," and he held them oat ex tended to Penlyn as he spoke, "I will drag him to a prison which he shall only leave fqf a scaffold. Drag him. there, I aay, unless my blood gets' the better of my reason, and I throttle bim like a dog by the way." 1 He, too, bad risen In bis excitement, nd as he stood towering in his height, which was great, above the other, and extended his long, sinewy bands in front of him, while his deep brown skin turned to an almost darker hue, Penlyn felt that this man before bim would be the avenger of his brother's death. So terrible did he look that the other wondered how that murderer would feel when he should be in bis grasp. He atepped forward to Guffanta and Jeld out his hand to bim. "Sir," be said, "I thank heaven that yon and I have met. But can we do nothing to assist you In your search? May I not tell the detectives what you know?" "You may tell them everything I have told you; it will not enable them to be in my way. But what I bare to do I must do by myself." He paused a moment; then he said: "It may be that when you do tell them they will still think that I am the man " "No, nof "Yea, It may be so. Well, If they want to spy upon my actions, if they want to know what I do and where I go, I am to be found at the Hotel Lepanto that la, when I am not here in this house, for I must ask you I have a reason to let me come to you as I want" Penlyn bowed, and said some words to (he effect that he should always be free t the house, and the other continued: "My business here as agent for Don Rodriguez, a wealthy merchant of Hon duras, will not occupy me much at pres ent, the rest of my time will be devoted to the one purpose of finding that man." "I pray that you may be successful." "I shall be successful," the Spaniard answered quietly. "And now," he said, "I will ask yon to do one thing." "Ask me anything and I will do it." "You hare a garden behind your bouse," Senor Guffanta said, "how la admission obtained to It?" Lord Penlyn stared at bim wondering ly, not knowing what this question might mean, and then he said: "There is an entrance from the back of this house, and another from an iron gate in the side street. But why do you ask? uo one ever goes into it. It is damp, and even the paths are partly overgrowu with weeds." "There are keys to those entrances?" "Yes." "And in your possession?" and, as he spoke, his dark eyes were fixed very in tently on the young man. "They are somewhere about the house, but they are never used." "I wish them found. Then, when they are found, I must ask yon to give me your word of honor that no living crea ture, not even you yourself, will enter that garden without my knowing it. Will you do this?" "I will do it." Penlyn said. "But I wish you would tell me your reason." "I will tell you nothing more at pres ent. But remember that I have a tusk to perform aud that I shall do it." Then he left him, aud walked away to the neighborhood of Leicester square. "What I have seen to-day," he said to himself, "would have baffled many a man. But you, Miguel, are different from other men. You are not baffled; you are only still more determined to do whut you have to do. But who is he? who is he? He is not Lord Penlyn." CHAPTER XIA'. "The story about this Spaniard, Guf fanta, is a strange one," Philip Smerdon wrote from Occleve Chase to Lord Pen lyn, who had informed him of the visit be had received and the revelations made by the Senor, "but I may as well tell you at once that I don't believe it. although you say that the lawyers, as well as Stuart and Dobson, are inclined to do so. My own opinion is that, though he may not have killed Mr. Cundall, he is still tell ing you a tit for some reason of his own, as to the friendship that existed between them, and he probably thinks that by pre tending to be able to find the man, he will gft some money from you. With regard to his having been face to fuce with the murderer, why, if so, does he not say on what occasion and when? To know his face as that of the murderer, is to say, what iu plainer words would be, that he had either known he was about to commit the act, or that he had witnessed it. It admits of no other interpretation, and, consequently, what becomes of his avow ed love for Cundall, if he knew of the contemplated deed and did not prevent it. or, having witnessed it, did not at once arrest or kill his aggressor? You may de pend upon it, my dear Gervase. that this .man's talk is nothing but empty bragga docio, with, as I said before, the probable lobject of extracting money from you as he previously extracted it from your brother. "As to the locking up of the garden and allowing no one to enter it, I uin inclined to think thut it is simply doue with tin object of making a pretense of mysteri ously knowing something that no one else knows. And it is almost silly, for your garden would scarcely hnppen to be select ed by the murderer as a place to visit, -.nd what object could he have iu so visit in;. it? However, as it is a place never used. ,1 should gratify him in this case, only 1 'would go a little farther than he wishes, aud never allow it to be opened not ere; when he desires it." The letter went on to state that Snu-r don was still very busy over the summei accounts at Occleve Chase, aud shoul., remain there some time; he might, lion ever, he added, shortly run up to towii for a night. A feeling of disappointment cntw v Penlyn aa he read this letter truss Ma friend. During the two or three days that bad elapsed between writing to, Smerdon and receiving his answer, he had been buoyed up with the hope that In Guffanta the man had been discovered who would be the means of bringing the assassin to justice, and this hope had been shared by all the other men interested in the ame cause. But he had come. In the coarse of bis long friendship with Philip Smerdon, to place such reliance upon his jndgment, and to accept so thoroughly his ideas, that the very fact of his doubting the Senor's statement, and looking upon it as a mere attempt to extort money from him, almost led him also to doubt whether, after all, lie bad not too readily believed the Span-' iard. Yet, he reflected, his actions, as he stood before him foretelling the certain doom of that assassin when once they should again be face to face, and his calm certainty that such would undoubtedly happen, bore upon them the impress of truth. And hla atory had earned the belief 01 the others that, surely, waa in Tavor of it being true. Stuart had seen him, had listened to what be had to aay. and had formed the opinion that be was neither Jyiug nor acting. ; Dobson also, the man who to the Se nior's mind waa ridiculous and incapable, bad been told everything, and he, too, had come to the conclusion thnt Guf rants's story was an honest one, and that, of all other men. he who in mums ntwtA. rious manner, knew the murderer's face, would be the most likely to eventually bring bim to justice, and be was also very anxious to know what the secret was that fva 10 nis desiring Lord Penlyn to have the garden aecurelv cbuuul innkwi I He could find in his own mind no con- tiei-una- una neiwccn tbe place of death fn the park and Ird Penlyn's g-vden lalthfMlirh ha i-Mniom kj.-.! . 1. - . 1 k-nough, his lordship waa the dead man's limlkw I. j i . . , '. uc uesirous tunc ine cnor should confide in him. But the Utter would tell bim nothing snore than he had already made known, and Dobson, who had alwaya in bia mmd's eye the vision of the large rewards that would come to the man who found the murderer, was forced to be content and to work, as be termed It, "in the dark." "You mast wait, my good Dobson, yon must wait," the Spaniard said, "until I tell you that I want your assistance, though I do not think it probable that I ahall ever want It. Ton could not find out that I waa Corot, yon know, although I bad many times the pleasure of lunch ing at the next table to you; I do not thjnk that you will be able any the better to find the man I seek. Bat when I find bim. Dobson, I promise you that yon shall have toe pleasure of arresting him, so that 10c rewara snau come to you. That is, if I do not have to arrest htm anlil,,tv n..n the moment, myself, so aa to prevent bim scaping." "And what are yon doing now, Signor?" Dobson asked, giving bim a title more lauiiuar 10 mm in us pronunciation than the Spanish one; "what are you doing to find him?" "I am practicing a virtue, my friend, that I have practiced much iu my life. I am waiting." "I don't see that waiting is much good, Signor. There Is not much good ever done by waiting." "The greatest good in the world. Dob son, the very greatest. And you do not see now, Dobson, because you do not know what I know. So you, too, must be virtuous, and wait." It was only with banter of a slightly concealed nature such aa this that Senor Guffanta would answer Dobson, but, light aa bia answers were, he had still man aged to Impress the detective with the idea that, sooner or later, he would achieve the task he had vowed to per form. "But," aa the man said to one of his brethren, "whv can't be eet to work n-hv don't he do something? He wou't find the man in that Hotel Lepanto, where he aits smoking cigarettes half the day, a..- vn In f . . - I I . ... 1 '.. I .. I . . I. goes every night." "Perhaps he thinks bis lordship did it, after all," the other answered, "aud is watching him." "No," Dobson said, "he don't think that. But I can't make out who the deuce be does suspect." (To be continued.) The Gull.' Strategy. Allen C. Ma sou is telling a story tnnt Would probably rulu auy reputation be may have for truth and veracity where be not as well kuowu aa ue is iu Tnco ma. says the Ledger of that city. He says he does not absolutely vouch for Its truth, but believes It to be true. It was told liiiu by some of the men wbo work on a boat running from the ocean to Quartermaster Harbor. They say that iu stormy weather, when the sea gulls find it ditiictilt to get their food from its usual sources of supply, they alight ou the logs lying ou the beach along the shore of the har bor until as luauy of them are perched on a log as cau get on it, and tbeu, ap parently by direction of one of their number, they begin to rock back aud forth until they turn the log over aud then each one grabs off a barnacle aud eats it, and they repeat the opera tlou. New Style of Sleeping Car. A Dew sleeping car is being intro duced which is reasonably certain to '"till a loug-felt want." By a simple mechauical device the berths are low ered below tbe floor of the car. which, wbeu done, trausforuis tbe same Juto a roomy parlor car. When the berths are raised the (-hairs are placed In the boles U't't vacant by I'' Im-i-Uis. Large windows ruu almost to the roof, thus giving ventilatlou to each berth. There Is r.lso three or four Inches more space betweeu the berths than there Is In tbe Pullman or tbe Wagner. The car Is a very handsome affair, and is mak ing a tour of the country for the iusiK-c-tiou of railroad officials. The General Manager. Pretty Well Worn Oat. Weariness will sontc-tiiiics in.-ike n man go lauie. "What's tbe matter, L'n-lo l:;i'uiV" asked Mr. Iliiidbiiiid, fn- tius!y. as ti.e oiu mau came limping iu. - "(Jot tl.j gout?" -so. sab. I'se got de bill for vh!; washiii' what I did lor you Itisl ycali." If y-n pav a so'io.il teacher a com pliment sue will uot observe tbe grm ma'.icat errors. . . What's in a name? That which we call a rose, bv any other name would smell as sweet Curioii!, isu't it, tbV men wb r:de bold 10s never sosm t bj beadej the Rami way. It did not rc'iire math of a philosopher to discover tj-it all r.'c'i widows are handsome. 0 irvinn a fortuno cutting the other fellow oat of tbe rich girl's all. c tioua. Uae can never get an insight ito 1 man's character by looking over Lis head. Tbe trouble with the ball dog is that he sometimes chews more lhn he can bite off. Visiting tbe sick will olten care lakewarainess with as ru-eh divpatcb as ninsUrd will r Use a blister. To d easily what is diffienlt for others is Ihu mark of talent. To do what is impossible for talent is the mark of genius. A man advocating a cause witL a dark purpose fears even tbe shadows that might develop from now light upon the subject. "Resist not evil with evil,'' was meant for nations as much as for men. PLAYING THE PIANO. NEW AND INTERESTING THEORV IS ADVANCED. Prominent Instructor Fay the Btndj of Aaatomjr, Physiology and Kaowl mare of Acoustic. Is Nccemrj for a tkorssgk llHttrT of tit. Pianoforte - - Hl.ta to Pianists. tl. A. Kelso, ot Handel Hall, Chicago presents a new theory of piano playing based upon principles of anatomy, physi ology, acoustics and psychology, and iu in exhaustive article which be baa pub lished on the subject undertakes to show how piano playing may be reduced to a scientific basis. He advises the study r-f natoniy, that the teacher may learn tJ develop a good "piano band" of physi logy that we may learn the fundamental causes which operate in velocity playing. We learn, he says, to avoid and success fully treat weeping sinews and musi cian, cramp. By the understanding an-I implication of the laws governing muscU innervation we learn to control and hus band the potent force termed nervous tucrgy. Misdirected nerve energy causes physical disease and disorders nature's internal arrangements; sickness is the re mit. Misdirected nerve energy, makes lickly piano players and unhealthy music Is the result. Extracts from bis artiolv follow: Better modes of developing the-powet t memorizing and of preserving nntouch td the pupil's individuality, are the re mit of psychological study. That we bould study acoustics "goes without say ing," aa we cannot know too much of jound. Pedal management, tonal color ing and the science of harmony are all better understood through a knowledge ot the properties of acoustics. A knowledge f the anatomy of the band, wrist, fore ind upper arm givea the atudent greater facility In individual muscular control. In cssg.-q oence of the control thus gain td, the whole arm becomes more expres liv erisply-legglero effect can best WHAT SHALL oe produced by energizing tbe muscles ot the upper arm and those of the fingers, while relaxing the wrist muscles. This la a very important point, and la simply tbe application of the mechanical prin ciple of the resistance being equal to the force of tbe blow. The outer side of the band la naturally weaker than the Inner side, yet it is just as essential a factor in playing. The melody and fundamental bass notes are most frequently played with the weakest fingers; hence the necessity of building up the outer region of tbe band. A de velopment of the pronator muscles In the forearm renders possible a good position of tbe band for playing octaves, arpeg gios, scales, chords and trills with ths MOTKIIKST IX STACCATO OCTATB PLAT 10, XO. 2. fourth and fifth fingers. Rolling octave playing is dependent upon a separated control of the supinator and pronator mnscles from those of tbe lingers. . Speed requires the shortening of the latent pe riod of the muscle, and this can be accom plished only by taking up the slack of the tendons. The principal muscle concern ed in producing a crisply ataccato effect with finger action is the extensor, as upon this muscle depends the brevity of tone. By elevating the wrist, curving the second finger, and depressing it at the knuckle joint, the finger la in the best possible po sition tor producing the effect. Th. physiology of velocity playing la a subject of great interest to the practical piano teacher. In some persona rapidity of movement is natural, the moaeolar tis sue Is very Irritable and exercises of speed do not demand great effort. In others tne mnscles, although energetic, obey the orders of tbe will with considerable slow ness. A great expenditure of nervous energy la necessary to obtain a rapid movement. Illustrations ot these dlffar- Boas aw ba asOwt la OVCUK.tT W STACCATO OCTATB PIRAT ING, HO. 1. In fencing, boxing, rowing, walking, an j j In piano playing. - Pfiuger -J authority tor I the statement that wheu a nerve U stint- the stimulus received by the nerve in I creases in intensity as It reaches the mus cle. The three attributes of tone are force, pitch and qnality. Force is dependent upon the amplitude of the vibrations. MOVtMUT IS STACCATO OCTATS FLAT ixo, no. a. Pitch is dependent upon the vibrational number the greater the number the high er tbe pitch. From these facts we de duct principles of study which are prac ticable to an intelligent atudent of piano playing. The overtones of tones sounded in the upper registers are of such great vibrational number that the ear falls to establish a definite pitch for tbem. Then, again, the waves of such tones are so short that they vanish almost immediate ly after sounding; therefore tbe pedal, which permits tbe tone to be re-enforced. ' may be used more freely in the upper j register thun in the middle or lower. One ton. susiaiueu uy -tue peum 11 iuv uuuuw is equal in intensity to. about four in the Upper register. It is possible by a deli cate manipulation ot the pedal to oblit erate the discordant harmonies In the upper, without losing an organ point in the .lower register, which sometimes of necessity must be sustained by the pedal. A point which Is of tqnal importance witfc the manner of atriking is that of the manner of leaving the'keys, for upon this hinges the entire system of legato octave playing. Wide skips, such as a bass note nd its chord, and broad intervals either In the accompaniment or melody, may be made to sound legato without the use of the pedal, by releasing tbe finger from the key slowly, thus damping the tone grad ually. Many beautiful effects may b produced by this use of the pedaL All movements of the body are either natural, habitual or hereditary. In cer ta'n states of consciousness we bring into lay certain mnscles just aa naturally as a-ater seeks its lowest level. It is for this reason that a pupil is sometimes taught to play a passage with widely differing Movements of the hand and arm by dif ferent teachers. Thus it not infrequently happens that an Instructor scatters broadcast over the land, through his pu pils, peculiar mannerisms which he in- I FLAX t terlted from his ancestors. It may readily be seen that thia ia radically wrong, and that such would not be the ease were all Caching based on philosophic principles. 1 In playing the piano habits will neccs larlly be formed, and movements baaed n the natural lawa of expression of ths body are more easily acquired, and, when acquired, enable as to express musical thoughts more clearly and more forcibly than habits formed at b.p-basard. Tech nic, as applied to piano playing, Is ths power to express musical thoughts. This Involves not only the ability to play the proper notes with correct angers, bnt re quires such control of the mnscles an4 nerves thst all gradations of tonal colon Ing may be expressed. Piano playing has )x-en compared to an electrle current tb musical thought emanates from the brain, basses through the nerves which mors the muscles to be used, the finger strikes ihe key, tbe hammer strikes a wire, which in lta tarn produces a tone, the ear con veys tbe tone bsck to the brain, that completing the circuit Weak or slug gish mnscles, therefore, net readily yield ing themselves to tbe nervous stimulus flowing from the brain, will break the cir cuit and the musical phrase will fall short of the Ideal conception. In piano playing the purely mental In tellectual phrase finds Its expression hi the circumscribed movements of the fin gers and hsnd. nslng tbe knncklea or wrist as tbe center of motion. Passages from Bach's "Fugues and Inventions" admira bly illustrate thia statement. An emo tional phrase demands more freedom ot movement, which the firmness of the el bowthe emotional center and length of the forearm readily supply. ' OUmaxeS and oasslonate outbursts ot musical feel ing demand the added strength and wider swing through space of tbe entire ana from the vital center of the shoulder. From a technical standpoint I classify all music nnder five general heads oc taves, chords, arpeggios, scales and em bellishments and these are again subdi vided. Octaves are of five varieties, namely, legate, staccato, broken. Inter locking and deceptive. Chords are eithet broken or solid. In order to play aa ar peggio properly It moat be taught la tea or twelve different ways, and the pupil will then understand bow to correctly practice all arpeggios. I usually teach the principles ot arpeggios before st- sealea, aa the saovemeats el tae retz.paci ..' y same In both, and are more easily eomprao bended in the former than in tbe bitten ITuder the head of embellishments 1 in clude aV TifWW of trills, mordents and appogiataraa. I consider the wrist the distributing center for the energy of the upper aud forearm. It is Impossible for the nerv ous stimulus from the brain to be properly conducted to tbe linger tips when tba many tendons tat pass through the wrist are tense. Almost every pupil beginning the study of tbe piano has some uucon seious mannerism or trick peculiar to him self of using the agents of expression. Before eradicating these bad habits ami building up those which are correct, a certain condition of passivity or relaxa tion must be achieved, just aa the pot ters' clay must be rendered soft and plas tic before it can be modeled Into the de sired forms. I find for this purpose the Delsartean exercises known as relaxing or devitalising of inestimable value to the beginner and advanced student alike. We can utter so many words with ont breath, and when that is exhausted we must draw upon the reservoir the air for another supply. . We can play a rapi I succession of notes with a given sup ply of nerve energy, and when that Is ex hausted we must dra'w upon the reservoir the brain for another supp'y. This vssity of our physical nature is the basis of rhythm, and if the regularly re curring Inclination to build up tbe waste Is unheeded, health and strength will be Impaired. Do not wait until a sensation of weariness is felt before renewing the energy, aa we should no more play with exhausted strength than speak with ex hausted breath. While conscious technic kills expression. the very core of the true system ot tech nical expression is embodied in Hamlet a advice to the players, "Suit the action tj the word, which, freely adapted, may be made to read, "Suit the technical Inter pretation to the musical thought." Copyrighted. A Fragrant Bath. We have always kuown that Paris ian ladles know a trick or two not generally known by the world at large for preservation of their youth and brightness. We have It on the author ity of a contemporary that these ladles put starch Into their bath water to soften it, as it is cheaper than borax or toilet vinegar and more trustworthy than ammonia, which Is said to Induce a growth of down on the skin. The Parisian ladies' maids are adepts at preparing delicate toilet waters, and always have material ready for use, meal baths, starch baths, flower baths, sea baths and medicated baths. One bath which Is considered somewhat of a luxury must have a curious pudding effect. Tbe bathtub Is lined with a linen sheet, gored properly to fit It Then a bag, containing almond meal or oatmeal, with orris root and dozens of other Ingredients, Is put In, givlug it a delicious fragrance. The bath being filled to the brim with water, the In tending bather gets In and remains un til she Is saturated with the perfume. Would that such baths were common In England. Invention. Corner ia Huckleberries. The huckleberry Industry about Au- denrled baa coma to a sudden stop through the appearance of two bears, on the mountains. A week ago a trav eler exhibited two performing bears on the street and while doing so the nni- mals engaged In a bout not on tbe bills. In the scrimmage the trainer was used up badly and one of the muzzles torn from a bear. Finding themselves at liberty, tbe bears trotted off and reach ed the mountains safely. The black berry season having just opened, hun dreds of boys and girls who pick the berries have since been kept out of the woods through fear. The mines being Idle, the villagers one day turned out to scour the woods for berries and bears. A party of women came upon them un expectedly, and their screams soiu alarmed scores of others, resulting In a stampede. The bears are now boss of the situation and berry-picking In that vicinity Is at a standstill. Pittsburg Dispatch. A Back Biter. Straiger la the submarine diver at home? The diver's wife He's down at river, but I dont think yon can see htm thin morning. Stranger Why not 1 vbt fllTsrw wife He'e Immersed la Jerrla Gazette. Tba Veranda la VI later. During the warm weather tb veranda is accepted as an ideal lounging place; but with tbe ap proach ot winter It is forsaken, and for tba time oeing almost forgotten. Now there is no reason why oue ol the most desirable portions of the house should thus become temporari ly useless. Tbe hundreds of people wbo live in tbe country all tbe yeai round ought to realize what a pecu liarly fine sitting-room for tbe win ter an Inclosed veranda makes. A tew have arrived at this realisation. But it is seldom that one meets with such a perfect adaptation of the idea as exists In a certain Mew England valley. This veranda is fall tirteeo feet wide, perhaps even more. It ex tends around three sides of a largt stone bouse. In tbe winter not anj of its glories fade. The entire struc ture is glazed. Tbe decorations and furniture remain. And while the visitors enjoy all the homelike com forts of tbe summer tbey bavt stretched before them one of the love liest laadcad to tba East. REV. DR. TALMAGE. Tbe Eminent Div.ne's Sunday . Ucourse. Sabjeet: "A Shadow oa the Harvest1 Field." . "And when the ehtld was rrown. It fell on a day that be went oat to his father to the reapers. And he said onto his father, my bead, my head! And be said to a lad, carry him to his mother. And wben h. had taken htm and brought him to his mother ha sat on bar knees till noon, and then died." II Kings lv., 18, 19, 20. There Is at least one happy home In Shu Bern. To the luxurianoo and splendor of a great bouse bad been given tbe advent of a child. Even when the Angel of Ltfs brines a new soul to th. poor man's hut. s star ot ioy btnes over the msngw. Infancy, with Its helplessness and Innoceaee, had passed away. Daya of boyhood had come days ot laughter and frolic, days of sunshine and promise, days of strange questions and earloaltv anrt quick development I suppose among all tba traasurm of th. house the brightest wss the boy. One day there is the shout of reapers heard afield. A hoy's heart always bounds at tho sound of sickle or scythe. No sooner have the harvesters eat a swath across the field than the lad joliis them, and the swathy reapers feel young again as they look down at that lad, as young and beautiful as was Ruth iu the harvest niH i hkik gleaning after the reapers. But the sun. - mwi wuiiKtxHion oi me Dnuni seized on him. I sea tho swarthy laborers drop their sickles; and they rushont to sea what Is tbe matter, and they tan him and they try to cool his brow; but all is-of no avail, in tha instant of oonsoleusness, ha puis his hands against his temples and cries "IS 7 head! my i"dl" And he father said: "Carry him to hs mother." just as any father would have said: for our hand is too rough, and our voice is too harsh, and oui foot is too loud to doctor a sick child. It there be In our home a gentler voice ana a gentler hand and a stiller footstep. But all of no avail. - While the reapers of Shunem were busy In the field, thera came a stronger reaper that way, with keener scythe and foi a richer harvest. He reaped only one sheaf, but oh, what a golden sheaf was that! I do not want to know any more about that heart breaking scene than what I see in just t hi on. pathetic sentence: "He sat on her knees till noon, and then died." Though hundreds of years have passed away since that boy skipped to ths harvest-field and tben was brought home and diad on his mother's lap the story still thrills us. Indeed, childhood has a charm always and everywhere. I shall now speak to you of childhood; its beauty its susceptibility to Impression, its power over the parental heart, and its blissful transition from earth to heaven. The child's beauty does not depend upon form or feature or complexion or apparel. That destitute one that you saw on the street, bruised with unkinduess and in rags, has a charm about her, even under her des titution. You have forgotten a great many persons whom you met, of finely cut features and with erect posture and with faultless complexion, while you will always remem ber the poor girl who, on a cold, moonlight v? V" you were Passing late home, in her thin shawl and barefoot on tha pavement, put out her hand and said: "Please to give me..",pennjr-" An! bow "n we have walked on and said: "Oh, that is nothing but street vaiabondism;" but after we got a block or two on, we stopped and said: "Ah. that is not right;" and we passed up that wy snd dropped a mite into that suf fering hand, as though It were not a matter of second thought, so ashamed were we ot our hard heartedness. Wtth what admira tion we all look upon a group of ohildren on ths play ground or In th. aotaool, and w. clap our bands almost involun tarily, and say: "How beautiful!" All Miffness and dignity are gone, and your shout is heard with theirs and ton trundle their hoop, and fly their kite, and strike their ball, and all your w"rlness and anxiety are gone as when a child yon bounded over th. playground yourself. That father who stands rigid and unsympathetic amid the sportf ulness of ohil dren, ought never to have been tempted out Of a crustv and 11 nro. 1mm m iu Miit.ri.... The waters leap down the rooks, but they have not the graceful step of childhood. Th. morning comes out of the gates of th East, throwing its silver on the lake and its gold on the towers and its Are on the cloud: but it Is not so bright and beautiful as tha morning of life! There is no light like that Which is kindled In a child's eye, no coloi ike that which blooms on a child's cheek, so musio like the sound of a child's voioe. Its face in the poorest picture redeems any Imperfection in art. When we are weary with toil, their little hands pull the burdens off our bsck. Oh, what a dull, stale, mean world this would be without the sportful oess of children. When I find people that do not like children, I immediately doubt their moral snd Christian character. But whan tbe grase of God comes upon a child, how unspeakably attractive. When Samuel begins to pray, and Timothy begins to read the Scriptures, and Joseph shows himself Invulnerable to temptation how beautiful th. scene! I know that parents sometimes rat nervous when their ohildren become pious, because they have the idea that good ihlldren always die. Tha strange questions Ibout God and eternity and the dead, exoite. tpprehension in the parental mind rather than congratulation. Indeed, thera are tome people that seem marked for heaven.1 Thta world Is too poor a garden for them to bloom In. The hues of heaven are In tha petals. There is something about their fore head that makes you think that the hand of Christ has been on It, saying: 'Let this one some to He, and let it oome to Ma soon." While that one tarried in the house you felt thera was an angel In tha room, and you thought that every sickness would be the last; and when, finally, the winds of death did scatter the leaves, you were nomorasut prised than to see a star eoma nut aKn.a tha eloud on a dark night; for yon had often (aid to your companion: "My dear, wo bail never raise that child." But I soout lb. Idea that good children always die. 3ainuel th. pious boy, became Samuel the great prophet. Christ ain Timothy be came a minister at Epnesus. Young Daniel, Booseorated to God, became prime minister of all the realm, and thera are in hundreds of the schools and families of this country to-day ohildren wbo love God and keep Hut sommandments, and who are to be foremost among the Christians and the philanthro pists and tbe re.oriuers of the next century. The grace of God never kills anyotia. A ehild will be more apt to grow up with re ligion than It will be apt to grow up without It. Length of days Is promised to the right eous. The religion of Christ does not cramp the chest or curve the spine or weaken tbe nerves. Thera are no malarias floating up from the river of lire. Th. religion of Christ throws over tbe heart and life of a child a fu perns! beauty. "Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." I pass on to consider the susceptibility of childhood. Men pride themselves on their nobangeabllity. t hey will make an elabor ate argument to prove that tbey think now juit as they did tweuty years ago. It is charged to frailty or fraud when a man changes his sentiments In politics or In religion, and it is this determination of soul that so often drives back the gospel from a man's heart. It is so hard to make avarice charitable, and fraud honest, and prlds humble, and skepticism Christian. Ths sword of God's truth seems to glance oil from those mailed warriors, and ths helmet seems battle-proof against God's battle-ax. Bat childhood; how susceptible to exampla and to instruction! You are not surprised at thenoord: "Abraham begat Isaac, and Isaac begat Jacob;" for when religion start 1 In a family, it is apt to go all through. Jeze bel, a murderess, yon are not surprised ti Ind her son Jehoram attempting assassin ttoa. Oh, what a responsibility apon tat pa rant and tn. teachcrl Th. moatoiai toncnes tn. keys, and ths response ot tnose keys Is awav off amid the pipes and tha sbords, and von wonder at the distance be tween th. key and the chord. And so it is In lire; If you touch a child, tha result will come bask from manhood or old ag. telling put tha tun. plaved, whether tha dirge ot a greai sorrow or tne antuem ot a great )ny. The word that the Sabbath-school teacher will this afternoon whisper In the ear of tha etaas.wm oe ecnooanaaa irojn ..vetiasumr ages of light or darlcnes. 't ne home an 1 th. school decide the republic or t)t despot ism; the barbarism or the civilization; tha upbuilding of an empire, or Iheovdrlbrow Ing of It. Higher than Parlia-nnnt or Con gress are tha school and the family, aud tlm sound of a child's foot may menu more than the tramp of a host. What, then, are you doing for the purpose of brlnin? your ciiil dren into the Kingdom of Godr If tbey are so susceptible, and if this is the very best time to act UKn their eternal luter-frts, what ar. you doing by way of right impulsion? There were some harvesters In tha fields of Scotland one hot day; an t Hannah 1,-m m l was helping thera gather the Iikv. She laid her babe under a tree. Whi a she wa busy In the Held, there was a flutter of wing in tbe air, and a golden eaglenluchej theswad dllng band of the babi, and fl-w nway with It to tha mountain eyrie. All tne harvesters and Hannah Lemond started for thecllffc It was two miles before they -amn to tho foot of tbeollffs. Getting there, wiio riare.l lo mount the cliffs? No humau loot had ever trod It. There were sailors tlinre who had gone up the mast In the day of tnrribln tempeM; they did not dare risk it. Hauuati L-amond sat thera for a while and looked up and saw tha eagle in the eyrie, and then he leaped to her feet, and she Itarted up where no human foot had ever trod, crag above crag, catching hold of this root or that root, until she reached the eyrie and caught her babe, the i-a';le swell ing in fierceness all around nhotit her. Fastening the chili to her back, she start e I tor her friends and for home. Oh. what a dizzy descent! sliding from this crag to that Brag, catching by that vine and by that n-ot, somtng down further and further, to tba most dangerous pass, where she fomvl a roat and some kids. Sh said: "Nor 1 11 follow the goaf; the goat will know Just which Is the safest way down;" anil slin w.is led by tbe animal down to the plain. Wiipii she got th-re, all the people criu.l: "Tlinuk God! thank God!" her strength not giviut; way until tbe rescue was effected. Ami tln-y rried: "Stand back, now. Give her air!" Oh, if awoman will do that for the physical life of her child, what will you do fortbo eternal life of your boy and your girl? I.ct It not be told in tba great day of eternity that Hannah Lemond put forth more exer tion for the saving of the physical life of . her child than you, O parent, have ever put forth for the eternal life of your little one. God help you! I pass on to consider the power which a child wields over tha parental heart. We often talk about tbe Influence of pursnts up on children. I never heard anything said about the Influenoe of children upon their parents. You go to school to them. You no More educate them than they educate you. Wtth their little bands they have caught hold of your entire nature aud you cannot wrench yourself away from their grasp. You are different men aud women from what yon were before they gave you the first lesson, fney have revolutionized your soul. There are fountains ot joy in your heart which ever would have been discovered bad tbey lot discovered them. Life is to you a more stupendous thing than it was before thosa little feet started on the pathway to eternity. Dh, how many hopes, how many joys, how many solitudes that little one has created lu four soul! You go to school everyday a tcliool of self-denial, a school of patience, lu ghicb you are getting visr day by day; and -that influence ot tbe child over you will In crease and increase; and though your chil dren may die, from tbe very throne of God they will reach down au influenoe to your toul, leading you on and leading yon up un til you mingle with their voices and sit be tide their tbronea. The grasp which the child has over tha parent's heart is seen in what the parent Will do for the child. Storm aud darkness and beat and cold are nothing to you if tbey stand between you and your child's welfare. A great lawyer, when yet unknown, one day stood in the court room aud made an elo quent plea before some men of great legal attainments; and a gent eman said to him afterward: "How could vou be so calm Standing in that august presence?" "Ob," said Erskine, "I felt my children pulling at my skirts crying for bread." What stream Will you uot swim, what w witi yo .0 enter, what battle will vou not tiht, what hunger will you not endure for yout chil dren? Your children; Your children must have bread though you starve. Your chil dren must be well clothed though you go la rags. You say: "My children shall be eilu oated though I never bad any chance." What to you are weary iimbs, and aching head, and hands hardi-ned ami callous, if only the welfare of your children can be wrought out by It? Their sorrow is your sorrow, their joy your joy. their advance ment your victory. Aud, oh, when the last sickness comes, how you flKbt back the parch of disease, and It is only after a tre mendous struggle that you surrender. And khan when tbe spirit has flcJ. the great deep ts broken up, and Rachel will not be com forted because her children are not, and David goes up the pa'ace stairs, crying: "Oh, Absalom, my son, ray son, would God I bad died for thee, oh, Absalom, my son, nyson." The brightest lights that cau be kindled, Christ has kindled. Let us, old and young, rejoice that heaven is gatherlug up so much that Is attractive. In that far land we are lot strangers. There are those thnre who ipeak our name day by day, andtbv won der why so long we tarry. If I could count Bp ths names of all those who have gone tat from these families into tne kingdom of heaven, it would take me all day to mention their names. A great multitude bdforn the throne. You loved them once; you love thera now; and ever and anon you think you hear their voions calling you upward. Ah, yes, they have gone out from all these families, aud you want no bo-k to tell you ot the dy ing experience of Christian children. Yon have beard It; it has been whisperej iu your ear, O father, O mother, O brother. O sister. Toward that good lan I all ChrisMaus ara bearing. This snapping of heart-str.11 8, this flight of years, this tread of the bean m ninds as that we are passing away. Under spring blossoms, and through summer hai-v.-ts(nnd across autumnal leaves; and through tha wintry snowbanks, weareiuwn: on. Oh. rejoice at it, children of God. rejoice at it! Jiow we shall gather them up, the loved snd ha lost! Before we mount our throne, be fore wa drink ot the fountain, before we strike the harp of our eternal cel bration, we will ery out: "Where are our loved and lost?" And then, how we snail gather thetq upl Oh, how we shall gather the:n up! In this dark world of sin an 1 pain We enly meet to part again: But whan we reach the heavenly shore We there shall meet to part no more. . The hope that we shall sea that day Should cbasa our present gr efa away; When these short years ot pain are past We'll meet before tha throne at last. Cotd Weather In South Africa. At BrAjtown and Pricska. in South Africa, (he season has been so cold that over 10iM) ostriohes, 10.000 sheep and 500 head of cattle and horses hnve perished. To add to the troubles of the farmers, millions of spring boks mad. their appearance, and not onli idevoured tha veld that was left, but drovt the wild ostriches. A Waterloo Drnmraer Oeari. At Qneenstown. in the Cape Colony, there died tbe other day a Waterloo veteran in ths person of a Mr. Hortoo, who was In bll ninety-fifth year. Deceased was a drummet boy, and was present in thnt capacity at tb battle of WaterloQ. He was lately in receipt of a pension of 50 a year from th. Wal iOffloa. 1 illS Prido and vauity nrn o't -n oonfonnd ed, but th.-re m a gr-at iliilt rence in th mi. Pri-lo may lie piirt and bones', vanity never rn be. Tha mj-rity ol the world don't know of any other way l get ahead tuiiu to pull Mimelkidr bock. Notoriety is cu sap smcosi, it it liie 'nl!-llowu bit blur liable 1 1 burst at any m nnte, ami liar lly possible to infl ito th j s?ooud time. We ehonlit lie cwef;il to ili-serve a goo I reputation by doin well; and wheu that care u imcj taken, cot to bd over-anxious abont the success. H.i not t'jat the formtr limes wera tatter than ttid prdieat, for it is a miBtake.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers