Juniata sentinel and Republican. (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, February 07, 1900, Image 1
B. F. SCHWEIER, THE COriSTITUTIOn-THE UfllOTI AFID THE ENFORCEUERT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. LIV. MIFFMNTOWX, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENK, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1900. i -. i. i i I CHAPTER XIV. (Continued) "So. so jou were spying on me!" cries he, la little gasps. "What brought yon, eh? That door below was locked has been locked for fifty years. Is there a conspiracy against me, then, that you can thus force yourself into my presence. In spite of bolts and bars?" "The lock gave way," stammers Vera; "It must have been old, broken by age, rusty. I had nothing to do. It was by the merest chance I came here. 1 am sorry, sorry." Her votce dies in her throat. "I don't believe it: there is more that you keep behind. Speak, girl; speak, I command you! Who showed yon the way here?" "I have told you, says Vera, tremu lously: "you must believe me. If I had known I should not have come. I I am sorry I have so frightened you, but " "Who says I am frightened?" lie turns npon her with a bitter scowl and a pierc ing glance. "Why should I care about beiog disturbed when I was merely idling way a dull hour by looking through my own will?" "Yours?" asks Vera, innocently enough. "Ay, whose else?" he asks, with a snarl of anger. "What do you mean, girl? Io you doubt my word? Whose else should it bo eh, eh? Go, leave me," cries he, furiously; "and cursed be the day you ever saw my house!" He waves to her to leave him, and, more unnerved than she has ever been In all her life before, she retreats behind the heavy curtain and runs with all her might down the dark corridor without, down the steep stairway, and so out into the passage into the hall. CHAPTER XV. Going to where Tom Peyton Is dili gently weeding, Griselda takes him to task. "Why didn't you tell me your sister was the sweetest woman on earth?" de mands ebe, in quite an aggrieved tone. "Because she isn't," says Tom, striv ing with a giant dock that has treacher ously concealed itself beneath the spread ing leaves of a magnificent dahlia; "you are that." "Nonsense H says Griselda; and then, "Ob. Tom! what do you think she is going to do at once? She is going to make an effort to induce Uncle Gregory to let Vera and me stay with her at The Friars! Only fancy if she succeeds! Wasn't it perfectly lovely of her to think - of itr . vv.v 7 "Oh, she isn't bad." say's her brother, broadly; "but may I ask how she pro poses tackling the old gentleman?" "Through Sea ton." "If Seaton helps her " The words die on his lips, his jubilant air forsakes hrm having turned a cor ner of the secluded pathway they had chosen, they run right into the arms of Seuton Dysart! For a moment the two men gaze blankly into each other's eyes. "What is the meaning of this masque rade?" demands Dysart presently with an angry frown; "what brings you here, Peyton, in that dress, and with my cousin?" "You certainly have every right to ask," says Peyton, with a rueful glance at his damnatory clothing, "but surely you might guess the answer. The fact is. I'm in love!" He makes this con fession with a careful artlessness not to be surpassed. "In love?" exclaims Dysart, frowning still more darkly. "Quite so," aminbly; "five fathoms deep. And your father being so so ex clusive." making a hard fight for a civil word, "I couldn't manage to see her in any orthodox fashion, so I took service here." "Her? whom?" asks Dysart, changing color. A sudden light flashes into his eyes; to him, as to Tom Peyton, there U but one "her" in the world. "Why, Griselda." says the latter, as if amazed at the other's stupidity. "And what do you suppose will be the npsliot of all this?" sternly. "That, my dear fellow, is what I have never yet gone into. But marriage, I hope." "Pshaw!" says Dysart, impatiently; "and what of Griselda?" "Griselda has confessed that she lines me a little. I say, Dysart," with a sud den change of tone, "you won't tell your dad eh?" "I am much more likely to tell your :ter," says Seaton, angrily. "You needn't. She knows. She was here just now, and is full of a desire to kidnap Griselda and carry her away to The 1'i iars. I say, Dysart, my sister de pends upon you to make your governor give his consent to the girls going on a visit to her; you won't disappoint her. eh?" "I'll do what I can," gravely ; but I shouldn't advise you to be too sanguine as to the result of my interference." True to his word, Seaton managed, af ter a hard fight, to secure his father's consent that Vera and Griselda might pay a two weeks' visit to Lady Rivers dale. It is quite five o'clock when they ar rive :unl enter the spacious hall of The Friars, that now is tilleu with a delicate, s'.ii'l.er livlit. A crimson stream from a pnnie.l window, somewhere in the dis- . - ? . . , tnoce. casts a nooa or giory, oiooa-rea, bi i era s feet, and a comfortable tinkling of s ns clinking against china smites their ears. At the top of the room; reclining in a rather listless fashion on some velvet cuhionx, are two little girls, quite lovely pnough to arrest the gaze of any casual j oiiscrver. Ihev have given in to the cu- riosity attendant on the entrance of the t new guests, and fix their large wide eyes ' on Vera, who, in turn, looks back on ! them with a certain interest. l a.ly Kiversdale, by a word an in- tens.-iy proud, fond word had intimated that they were her cnimren. The young- er. taking her courage in both hands, litis her little slim fingerr 'nder the narrow gold bangles that adorn Vera' wrist, and begins to push them up and down with a childish, diffident gesture, "What's your name?" asks she, gravely. "Vera." "Vera!" Both children repeat the word with a sort of gratification. "But tell us you have another name, haven't 'Dysart." confesses she, softly. ny, tnat s beaton's name," cries Dolly, brightening, and looking up at the tall young man who is standing neat them; "isn't it, Seaton? Why. you must be something to him. Sister eh?" "No," says Vera, shaking her head. "You can't be his mother?" hazard? the younger child, uncertainly. Vera laugrs lightly. "No." she say again. "I have It! I know itr exclaims Dolly the wise, glancing up triumphantly; "voii are his wife!" This innocent bombshell spreads dis may in the camp. "Who is that pretty little girl over there?" Vera asks, with a wild longing to change this embarrassing conversa tion, pointing to where the girl who had first attracted her is sitting, "quite oppo site, in the red-and-wbite gown? Do you see her?" "Oh! that is Mary Cutler. Don't yon know her? Everybody knows Mary But ler. We love her, so does everybodj lse." . "Mamma says Seaton does," says lit tle Flossy, mildly; "perhaps that's why he won't marry you." "It was true, then." thinks Vera. A great sense of disgust rises up within her, swallowing all other thoughts. Ano yet he would have forsworn himself: Would have nay, he would do so still. Oh, the shamelessness of it! Perhaps something of her secret scorn communicates itself to him, because even in the midst of bis apparently engross ing conversation he lifts his head abrupt ly and his eyes seek hers, and read them as though he would read, her soul. And then a curious light flashes into 'lis face. He makes a movement, quick ungoverned, as though he would rise and go to her, but, even as he does so, some one steps out from the shadows behind her, and, bending over her, holds out his band a young man, tall, well favored, smiling, with an air about him of sud den, warm delight. "You remember me?" he says, so dis tinctly that Seaton can hear him across the room. "To think that I should have the happiness of meeting you here to day and after so many vain inquiries. How it brings back the past to see you. Venice, Rome, that last carnival. Vera, say you are glad to see me!" Some people walking past them, and suddenly standing still, obliterate them from Seaton's view, but wheu next be looks the stranger is sitting beside ber, and Vera, with flushed cheeks and bril liant yea.-fuU of -as -unmistakable wel come, is murmuring to. him in low, soft tones. - ' . r ' "Who is the man. ' talking to - my cousin?" asks Seaton, indicating Vera's companion by a slight - gesture, and -peaking in a tone so changed that Miss Butler involuntarily lifts her head to look at him. "Lord Shelton," she says. "George Snndes he was. Don't you know him? Great hunting man. He came in for the title about eight months ago. That brought him back from his big game iv the East." CHAPTER XVI. In the last four days Peyton has mys teriously disappeared, no one knows whither, except perhaps Griselda, his sis ter and two others. "Xorth" he was go ing, he said to inquiring friends'. To-day, however, be has turned up again, admira bly dressed as ever, and as radiant as a ood conscience should make any man. "I'm so glad Tom has got back in time," says Griselda. "I quite feared L'ncle Gregory would be too many for liim. Vera, what makes you look like that, darling? Now tell me what it is .hat has annoyed yon." "I must be mad to be annoyed," says Vera, with angry self-contempt. "Seaton again? "It is always Seaton," with an increase af her irritation, "when it isn't his fath er. Was there no other path into which fate could have flung me, except this? Yes. it is Seaton." "But why think so much about him V He cannot interfere with you now. be his father never so persistent in bis idea of marrying you to him. because all the world can see he is ns goou as engaged ;o Miss Butler." "I pity her, then, with all my soul: What a family to enter! She is too good ;o be sacrificed so cruelly. I believe he s employed by his father to watch me, to report all that I say or Ah!" she Sreaks off abruptly, and points almost criumphantly to the pathway outside, where indeed Seaton stands. That it is one of the most public walks it The Friars, that Seaton might have, nay, indeed has, come this way without ntention of any kind she does not allow herself to believe. "I told you," she says, vehemently, "it s to spy upon my every action he is lere! Oh, fool that I was, to dream of jeiug free for even these few days!" She has come a step or two forward: a icarlet tide of indignant humiliation has lyed her cheeks. She still points toward Seaton with one trembling hand, while ie, advancing slowly, looks with some mxiety from her to Griselda,. who is sore y troubled, as if to demand an explnna :ion. "I think you must be mistaken, dar- inir. she says, nervously, laying uer hand noon her sister's arm. "I feel sure i Seaton would not undertake the part you aave assigned him. Seaton. speak to ber; - . , irtit :ell her it is impossible that you snoum lo this thing." "What thing? Of what does sue ac cuse me?" his brow growing dark. "She imagines or, of course. It is all mistake Dut sne nus bohjpuoty Dto her head that you are nere iw w watch her." "Is that how it strikes yon?" says he. slowly; a sudden, short, miserable laugh breaks from him. "So that is how you look at it? Great heaven, to think how I have loved you such as you so poor a thing! It shames me now to think of tj" He draws his breath sharply, though she writhes. "No, you shall hear ,c; J have heard much from you, first and last this shall be the last, I "wear Here, even now, in this moment en I find you so altogether contemptible a creature, it is my misery to know that 1 ,till love you! Day after day yon nave heaped insults upon me. Your Tel7 loolt has been an affront. I have said too much." he continues, wearily; put wita a little eloquent gesture she renders him silent. "Oh, not too much, but perhaps enough" she smiles again, that cruel smile that hurts him like the sharpest tab "surely it would be hard to' expect you to find another insult to-day. To morrow, perhaps. And now let me say one little word. Have I no cause to doubt you?" "None, none!" declares he. vehemently. She throws out her hands with a lit tle expressive movement. "I leave that to your own conscience, to your own sense of right and wrong," she says, shrugging her shroulders, finely. "But once for all," raising her voice and throwing up her head, "I warn you. Rather than marry you," making a slight gesture of horror, "I would accept the first man that asked me!" A faint rustle among the bushes out side, a footstep and Lord Shelton steps into view. "I hold you to your word," cries he, Bayly; he steps lightly within the flower crowned archway, and looks straight at Vera. He la smiling, but underneath the smile lies a longing to be taken seriously. "You give me a chance," be says; "1 her, before witnesses, declare myself a suitor for your hand" his expression is still wavering betwixt mirth and gravity, and he holds ont to her both his bands. You are not, however, the first to ask her," says Dysart, in a voice vibrating with many and deep emotions. His brow Is black, and anger fights for mastery with despair in his dark eve. Vera, pale as death, but with a little Indignant frown, steps between the two men. "What does it all mean?" she asks, contemptuously; "would you make a tra gedy out of a farce? If so, at least be good enough to assign me no part in it." She sweeps both men out of her path y a slight imperious gesture, and pass rig them, walks swiftly away in the di--ection of the house. To be continued.) Household. RECIPES. Veal Omelet. Beat three eggs sepa raiolv until verv light. Chop to a fin paste one pint of odds and ends of cold cooked veal, and add this to the beater yolks, with one teaspoomui 01 sam, uji te&fspocnful of finely minced onion, ont tablespoonful of chopped parsley am. a saltspoonful of paprHoa. tiastly turr In the beaten whites. Put a tablespoon ful of butter In a frying pan. and wher hot pour In the mixture. Brown anc foirt like an omelet and serve Immedi ately when done on a heated plattei garnished with parsley. Apple-Butter Sandwiches. Sweel sandwiches are now considered neces eatv on many luncheon and tea ta bic s. The following is a delicious com bination: Cut thin slices of the whitest and most creamy bread that your fa fore'l recipe will produce: spread with rich, sweet cream, then a thin layer ol apple butter and another slice of bread spread with cream; cut in shapes tc suit th taste and pile on small ob long: tray covered with pretty dolly Butter may be used in place of cream, but must be perfectly fresh and beater to a white cream. ' Chestnuts and-Oysters.-Hull and blancr. one quart of chestnuts and boil till per fectly tender; mash fine, add lump of butter size of an egg. one tablespoonful fipe-chepped celery, two hard-boiled eggx chopped fine, two beaten egg! (raw), one-balf teaspoonful salt and saltspoonful white pepper: mix very thoroughly: have clean an-l dry clam shells: butter the inside and fill to edge: with the mixture: make gutter in cen tre of each and place in it a plump oys ter, cover with buttered bread crumbt and bake to a dainty brown: serve ir shells, with cut lemons and catsup Deep oyster shells will do if more con venient. Celery Sandwiches. A sandwich that has been seen at afternoon teas thif winter is made of celery and cheese. The celery used should be the whitest and crispest parts of the stalk.chopped very fine. It is then made into a pastf with cream cheese, seasoned well with salt and white pepper, and used be tween thin slices of brown bread. V the mixture shows a tendency to crum ble instead of forming Into a paste p little thick sweet cream may be added. TTnity Loaf. One quart flour, one pin m!?k. one tablespoonful meltel butter one egg. one saltspoonful salt, one ta blespoonful -white sugar, one teaspoon ful soda, dissolved In one tahlespoonfu' hot water, one dessertspoonful lequa to two teaspoonfuls) cream tartar sifter' in flour: mix beaten egr with milk.the butter, sugar, salt and soda: next th flour: beat well, use buttered cake ti and bake in steady, hot oven: turn o white hot, send to table and cut r nerved; easy and excellent. Industrial. The manager of the Belleville Woolen . . T.- . V. ITtmralnn T? Vl n (1 1 Island aims, 111 " i" """f- - - granted the demand of the operative for a 10 per cent, aava.iu.-e m v.,Bc. Abcut 125 boiler makers, employed in four of the largest boiler making and repairing shops in Buffalo, New York, stt uck for a uniform scale of wages 2 cents an hour and nine hours a l,Tne pay of the operatives In the em ploy of the Nonantum and Newton Worsted Companies was advanced 1C per cnt. This means an actual in crease and not a restoration. It affects about GO;' hands. - The rod mill men employed by the American Steel and Wire Company, in Cleveland, struck, demanding an in crease of 10 per cent., instead of thi 7Vi granted by the company on Jan uary 1. At a request of the Legislative Cora. . . s . v. thin ITalAV-titlnn rt T.n- bor a bill has been introduced in the Ohio Legislature providing for equal wages for men and women. A settlement of the dispute between the Buffalo Express and the Buffalo Typographical Union, which has lasted over two years, has been reached. The Chicago Chronicle says: Now that the Federation of Railway Em pioves ha been dissolved, it is said that the" officers of the Order of Railway Conductors and of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers are working on a' plan to bring these organizations to gether in a protective and defensive alliance, to deal with the railway com panies of the country on wage and other questions. General Manager Brown, of the Pull- pnm.Tiv ripnlea the rpnnrt that the Palace Car organization has de cided lo reduce me salaries 01 its con ductors and porters. - 2 Twelve hundred union cigar makers have been locked out in Boston as the ooi.it nr a dpmand noon the manufac turers for an increase in the rate of certain kinds of hand work. The. manu facturers, who have a contract with the International cigar Matters union to pay a certain scale of prices, have ieclded to noia uie men iu n. Two hundred blacksmiths' helpers of the Brooks Locomotive Works. at r-h..-.llvlr Maw Vnrk went nn a atrllro They receive minimum wages of 11.40 a day, time. ana aemana i.dd, wim extra S No man is so weak you can afford to oppress him. OUR KINSMEN, THE BOERS. rnere la m Tie Between Them and Oar Country's Early Settler. Reminded Incessantly of their kinship j with the English, Americans are not ften asked to remember their kinship with the Boers. . And yet the tie Is :lose one. The Boer is a transplanted Dutchman, and the influence of Hol land in shaping the destiny of this zountry is ranked by historians as sec ond only to that of Britain. In contemplating the Transvaal war it is well not to forget what the Dutch lid for America. The Pilgrim Fathers, having been Irlven out of England, found a refuge In Holland until they sailed for the Sew World. Holland was in that age Che cradle of religious liberty. It was sne of the world's great states, and its people bad wun greater freedom than those of England. During their sojourn there the refu gees learned to admire and love many Dutch Institutions, and they carried these feelings with them across the At tn n tic. In the very foundation of the Ameri can commonwealth there was a stratum of the elements that are present ia the fighting Boers. Hendrick Hudson, when he sailed his boat, the Half Moon, through the Nar rows, In 1009, was, through English himself, in the service of the Dutch East India Company. To Holland, therefore, belongs the honor of the dis covery of the Hudson river and what is now the port of New York. England claimed all the territory on the Atlantic coast from the Bay of Fumly to Florida, but did not oppose the colonization of the territory discov ered by Hudson. Hudson named the region New Neth erland and established trading posts on Manhattan Island and at what is now Albany. The first Dutch colonist arrived In 1623 and settled on Manhattan Island, which they named New Amsterdam. Holland claimed all the territory from the Deleware to the Connecticut. To stimulate colonization the Dutch West India Company offered a tract 10 miles along one bank of any river or 8 miles along both banks to anybody who would transport 50 colonists from the old country. Among these brave pioneers were the forefathers of many who now look upon themselves as the aristocracy of New York. In Just this way did the Dutch col onize South Africa. So that there Is couslu8blp of race between many In the Four Hundred and the stern farmers who obey Oom Paul. But Intermarriage on this side has modified the original type, whereas the Boers in their Jealous Isolation have preserved the pure, strong, rugged race. HOLD YOUR BREATH. thereby Toa May Avoid Being Drowsed Whan lo the Water. Whatever you do, hold your breath," laid the swimming master, when he bad half a dozen young women to look after at the beach. "No one ever was drowned without first strangling, and then filling the lungs with water in a struggle that is twice as fierce as an effort to hold the breath would be. If they can preserve their presence of uiind and prevent drawing In the breath they are safe. While above water the aircan betaken in little breaths, almost gusps. When the water goes over they can hold their breath and they will of a certainty come to the surface. "Look at that girl with the red cap," be remarked, pointing to a slight young woman who was insisting on getting beyond her depth, and who was com pelling ber limbs to find the way of pro pulsion. "She will learn to swim be cause she is determined to, and she takes her time about it. She will not allow herself to be frightened, no mat ter if she puts her feet down and does not touch the ground. She knows that is the way to get herself in serious trouble and so she keeps control of her self and is calm all the time. When she cannot touch bottom she catches a. little breath at a time and tries to strike out. Of course she goes under now and then, but she doesn't try to breathe under water, because she knows she Is not a fish. A fish has gills and can strain the air from the water; but she has lungs, and when she fills them with water she gets some air, to be sure, for there is air in the water all the time. But she gets too much water at .the same time and It doesn't do her any good. "If people would Just keep quiet and not get excited. Just remain cool and collected and hold their breath unless the nose is above water, we never would bear of a death by drowning. Of course. In the case of shipwreck, or whenever one gets too much exhausted, the holding of the breath Is out of the question. But I never saw anyone at these beaches when It seems to me there was any excuse for not learning to swim. There certainly Is no excuse for losing control of one's self, and get ting strangled,, or becoming uncon scious. x . "Hold your breath." Chicago Even ing Post. Filled the Requirement. A primary teacher was hearing a re citation In grammar and the class was composed largely of the smaller stu dents. The teacher wrote the three words, "bees, bear, boys," on the board and asked the pupils to write a sent ence containing the three words. She was quite taken back a few minutes later when one of the bright boys In the class handed In the following: "Boys bees bear when they go In swim Tiln.' " Paari FUhers ft Oeyloa. The pearl fishing season la Ceylon only lasts twenty-two days, and daring that period 11,000.000 oysters arc brought to the surface by fifty divers TflJ, ULJMltuI . I . . a higher price. In proportion to its slsa I than any other flower at a green boos 1 The magazine peat aaay Us task, hot Um of his rat be eqaej t- SLAVS THREATEN ALL EUROPE. Dark Shadow of a Sace that Ia Increaa ina; Hapidlr In Numbers. Europe has leas reason to fear beini overrun by the Mongolian than by tb Slavonic race. In Its various branches this race la Increasing more rapidly than that of any other on the continent At present they are confined for the most part to Russia. The Russian em pire now numbers 130,000,000, and. though these numbers Include German. In the extreme west and Mongols in the extreme east, yet the mass are pure Slavs, presenting thus a homogeneity rare In history. But in addition to Rus sla we have Slavonic offshoots over a large European area which render the future of much more than half Europe certainly Slavonic. The troubles in Austria have brought reminders of thf Slav kingdom of Bohemia, but It Is not often In Bohemia only that the Ger man Is face to face with the Slav; he is so in Galicia, In Carlnthla and Car niola, while the Magyar Is surrounded by an ever-Increasing Slav population in the land of hta birth. In the Balkan peninsula It Is a case of whether Slav or Greek shall Inherit the lands made desolate by the Turk, and few who have studied the question In the light of recent history can doubt that it will bt the Slav. It Is not necessary to quote that hack neyed saying of Napoleon "Cossack oi republican" It Is more to the point to say that, whatever the future political iforma of Europe may be, her actual Population will be largely if not pre dominately Slavonic, and that this fact .may mean a different Europe from that I known In history. For where, from tht point of view of numbers, is the coun ter-balancing element to the Slav to be found? France is stationary and very nearly so are Spain and Portugal, j Germany is full, and can only main lain herself In comfort by reason of the I American outlet for her surplus. Aus .trla Is actually a ground for Slav, as , against German Increase. Italy, like Oermany, sends her surplus over the Atlantic. The great future of Engllsh ' speaking people Is not in Europe, but In America and the Southern seas. Tht Norse people are hemmed in by barren . lands and are probably Increasing , faster In the Northwest of the United j States than at home. Now, If we set against these facts the actual growth of j Russia herself, the increase or Slavs In ) Central Europe, and the probable fu ture or the Slavs in the Balkan penin sula, we cannot fall to see that, within a measurable period, the Slavonic cle ment In European society will prepon derate In the balance. What effect will this radical recon struction of Europe exert on mankind; It will be a long time before we shall realize that if we want to find the great seats of tUe historic peoples of Europe we shall have to look beyond Europe, to Teutonic North America, to Latin South America, to Teutonic Aostrala la. Yet this will, so far aa one can eee, certainly be the case within anoth er century, assuming the present gen eral drift of things to continue. Chi cago Chronicle. JOSIAH ALLEN'S HOME. Mlsa Marietta Holler, Her Daughter and Her Home, Bonnie View, the home of Miss Mar letta Holley ("Josiah Allen's Wife"), near the village of Adams, In Jefferson county, New York state, is an ideal rest ing place for many of the world's work ers who have the advantage of the own er's friendship. Among these none. have appreciated the quiet and beauty of the place and the generous hospital ity which abounds there and for which Miss Holley is famous more than Miss Claia Barton, and Miss Franc, t Willard, both of whom have Leei numbered among her most cherishe.l friends. , Miss Willard was soon to pay a visit to Bonnie View when overtaken by the illness which ended in her death. The house, in the modern Queen Ann, style, with its conservatory, beautiful rugs, works of art and books, is an evl-! dence of the taste of its owner. Below j It, in a cedar grove at the bottom of a ravine, is a veritable fairyland. Three artificial ponds, stocked with bike fish, and crossed by rustic bridges, add much to the beauty of this retreat, which is Miss Holley's favorite resting place. Her companion, when she is not writ- ing, is her adopted daughter, a little girl of 10 ye.-i-s. Just before Christinas. last year, she and the child were taking a walk In the hollow, when she noticed that the little one was carrying something in ber hand, which upon examination proved to be a hatchet "to cut down the Christ mas tree." When they returned, a good sized cedar trailed behind them. "My little glrL" says Miss Hollev speaking of the child, "is exceedingly generous, and sometimes, upon the pre text of being outgrown, wants to g'.re away some of her prettiest clothes to less fortunate children." Bonnie View will always have an in forest for American women, as bein? tike birthplace of "Samantba Allen Public Adviser and Private Invest igator," which has been said to be the most widely known character la Amer ican fiction. Miss Holley has expressed a desirt to erect upon ber estate a summer home for working girls; and this has given rise to the widespread rumor that she has done so. It may :in time be an ac complished fact, but it has not yet as sumed any definite shape. Hoaors Even. He Are you sure that I am the onlj man that you have ever loved? She Just as sure as you are that yot have never loved any other glrL to ervUle Journal. Welghborhood. In the Clay school the other day tht teacher asked the spelling class what neighborhood was. Silence followed Finally Lawrence broke out: "I know." he declared. "Well, what Is Itr asked the teachei dubiously, for Lawrence is a very nn certata quantity in school. "Why, a neighborhood Is-is-is a lac where a lot of people live and borrow things of each other." Detroit Fre SERMON BY Rev. Dr. Calmagc Subject: The Woadet ef the Hatnae MudOur Pbvsicul Struct ma front of Divine WisdomThe Extended Hand the Symbol of luflnlte Mercy. Copyright. Loate Klopach. 1MV.1 Washihotoh, D. C. The discourse of Dk Talmage is a lesson of gratitude for that which none of us fully appreciate and shows the Divine meaning In our physical structure; text, I Corinthians xil., 21, "The eye cannot say unto the band, I have no need of thee." These words suggest that some time twe very Important parts of the human bodygot Into controversy, and the eye beonine inso lent and full of braggadocio and said: "I am an independent part of the human sys tem. How far I can see, takin? lo spring morning and midnight auroral Compared with myself what an Insignirtoaot thing is the human band! I look down upon it. There It bangs, swinging at the side, a clump of muscles and nerves, and it can not see an inch either way. It has no lus ter compared with that wblob I beam farth." "What senseless talk," responds the hand. "You, the eye, would have been put out long ago but for me. Without the food I have earned you would have been sightless and starved to death years ago. You cannot do without me any hotter thau I can do without you." At this part of the disputation Paul of my text breaks in and ends the controversy by declaring, "Tub eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee." Fourteen hundred and thirty-tbret times, as nearly as I can count by aid of concordance, does tbe Bible speak of the human band. We are all familiar with tbe band, but tbe man has yet to be born who can fully understand this wondrous Instru ment. Sir Charles Bell, the English sur geon, came home from the battlefield of Waterloo, where he bad been amputating limbs and binding np gunshot fractures, and wrote a book entitled "The Hand: Its Mechanism and Vital Endowments as Evi dencing Design." Bat It Is so profound a book that only a scientist who is familiar with tbe technicalities of anatomy and physiology can understand it. So we are all going on opening and shut ting this divinely constructed Instrument, the hand, Ignorant of much of the revela tion It was Intended to make of tbe wis dom and goodness of Qod. Yon can see ty tl'eir structure that shoulder and elbow v 1 forearm are getting ready for tbe cul mination in tbe band. There is your wrist, with Its eight bones and tbelr liga ments In two rows. Tbat wrist, with its bands of fibres and Its hinged joint and turning on two axes on tbe larger axis moving backward and forward and on the smaller axis turning nearly around. And there is tbe palm of your band, with Its Ave bones, each having a shaft and two terminations. There are tbe Angers of tbat band, with fourteen bones, each An ger with its curiously wrought tendons, Ave of tbe hones with ending roughened for tbe lodgment of tbe nails. Tbete Is the thumb, coming from opposite direc tion to meet the Angers, so that in con junction they may clasp and bold fast that which yon desire to take. There are the long nerves running from tbe armpit to the forty-six muselos. so that ail are under mastery. The whole anatomy of your band as complex, as Intricate, as symmetrica', ns useful, as Ood could make it. What can it not do? It can climb, it can lift. It can push, It can repel. It can menace, it can eluob, It can deny, It can affirm, it can ex tend, it can weave. It can bathe, It can smite. It can bumble. It eaa exalt, it can soothe. It can throw, it can defy. It cau wave, it can Imprecate, It can pray. A skeleton of the band traced on blaek ooard or unrolled In diagram or buug In medical museum Is mightily Illustrative of the Divine wisdom and goodnesr. but bow much more pleasing when In living action all Its nerves and muscles and bones and tendons and tissues and phalanges display what Qod Invented when He invented tbe human ha. V Two specimens of it we carry at our side from the time when in Infancy we open tbem to take a toy till In tbe last hour of a long life we extend them In bitter farewell. With tbe Divine help I shall speak of the hand as the chief executive officer of tbe soul, whether lifted for defense, or ex tended for help, or tusled In the arts, or offered in salutation, or wrung in despair, or spread abroad In benediction. God evi dently intended all tbe lower order of liv ing beings should have weapons of defense, and hence tbe elephant's ta.-k, and the horse's hoof, and the cow's horn, and the lion's tooth, and the Insect's sting. Having given weapons of defense to tbe lower orders ot living beings, of course He would not leave man, tbe highest order of living beings on earth, defenseless and at the mercy of brutal or ruffian attack. The right yea, the duty of self defease ix so evident It needs no argumentation. The hand is tbe Divinely fashioned weapou of .defense. We may seldom have to use it tor such purposes, but the fact that we are equipped Insures safety. The hand is a weapon sooner loaded than any gun, sooner drawn than any sword. Its lingers bent Into the palm, it becomes a bolt of demolition. What a defense it is against accident! There have been times In all our expert- I ences when we have with tbe hand warded ! off something that would have extinguished ' our eyesight or broken tbe skull or crippled i as for a lifetime. While the eye bos dis- 1 covered the annroachlnir neril the hand I has beaten it back or struck it down or disarmed it. Every day thank Ood for your right band, and it you want to bear Its eulogy ask him who in swift revolution of machinery has had it crushed or at Cbapultepec or South Mountain or San Juan Hill or Sedan lost It. And In passing let me say that he who has the weapon ot tbe band uninjured and in full use needs no other. You cowards who walk with sword cane or carry a pis tol in your hip pocket bad better lay aside your deadly weapon. At the frontier or in barbarous lands or ns an officer of tbe law about to make an arrest such arming may be necessary, but no citizeu moving In these civilized regions needs such rein forcement. If you are afraid to go d iwn these streets or along these country roads without dagger or firearms, better ask your grandmother to go with vou armed With scissors and knitting needle. What cowards, if not what intended murderers, nselessly to carry weapons of deithl In our two hands Qod gave us all the weapons we need to carry. Again, tbe baud is the chief executive of ficer of tbe soul for affording belp. Just see bow that hand is constructed! H -w easily you can lower it to raise the fallen! How easily it Is extended to feel the in valid's pulse, or gently wipe away tbe tear of orphanage, or contribute alms, or smooth the excited brow, or beckon into safety! Oh, tbe helping bands! There are hundreds of thousands of them, and the world wants at least 1,600,000,000 of tbem. Hands to bless others, hands to rescue others, bands to save others. What are all these schools and churches and asylums of mercy? Outstretched bands. What are all those hands distributing tracts and car rying medicines and trying to cure blind eyes and deaf ears and broken bones and disordered intellects and wayward sons? Helping hands. Let each one of ns add to that number. If we have two, or If through casualty only one add that one. It these bands which we have so long kept thrust Into pockets through indolence or folded In indifference or employed in writing wrong things or doing mean things or heaving up obstacles In the way of righte ous progress might from this hour be con secrated to helping others out and up and on, they would be bands worth being raised on tbe resurrection morn and worth clapping In eternal gladness over a world redeemed. Tbe great artists of tbe ages Raphael and Leonardo de Vinci and Qnontln Matsys and Beuibrandt and Albert Durer and Ti tian have done their best in picturing the face of Christ, but none except Ary Schef fer seems to have put much stress upon the band of Christ. ladeed. the mercy of that band, tbe gentleness of tbat hand, la be yond all artistic portrayal. Some of His mlraciea He performed by word of mouth and without touching tbe subject before Him, but most of them He performed through tbe band. Was the dead damsel to be raised to life? "He took ber by the hand." Was tbe blind man to have optlo nerve restored? "He took blm by the trnnd." Was tbe demon to be ei orcUed from a suffering man? "He took him by tbe band." Tbe people saw tbis and be sought Him to put His band upon their af lioted ones. His own bands free, see how the Lord sympathized with the man who bad lost the use of bis band. It was a case of atrophy, a wasting away until the arm and hand had been reduced in size beyond any me ileal or surgical restoration. More over, it was bis right band, the most im portant of tbe two, for tbe left side in all its parts Is weaker than tbe right side, and we involuntarily In any exigency put out the right hand because we' know it Is the best band. So that poor man had lost more than halt of his physical armament. It would not have been so bad if it had beeu the left band. But Clnist looked at that shriveled up right hand dangling nwiMtif at the man's side and then cried out with a voice tbat had omnipotence in It, "Stretch forth thy band," and the record is, "He stretched It forth whole as tbe other." Tbe blood rushed through the shrunken veins, and tbe shortened muscles lengthened, and tbe dead nerves thrilled, and tbe lifeless Angers tingled with resumed circulation, and the restored man held up in the presence of the skep tical Pharisees one of Jehovuh's master pieces, a perfect hand. No wonder tbat story is put three times in tbe Bible, so that it a sailor were cast away on a barren island or a soldier's New Testament got mutilated In battle and whole pages are destroyed tbe shipwrecked or wounded man in hospital would probably have at least one ot those three radiant stories of wdat Christ thought of the human hand. How often has the hand decided a des :iuyl Mary, Queen of Scots, was escaping from imprisonment at Lochlever In tbe dress ot a laundress and had her face thickly veiled. When a boatman attempted !Xr7T!e VY!!! 8b" "X, heTa i to ffitnJ'Zi took her hack to c'anHvll. Ac-ln nrf again it has been demonstrated that the hand hath a language as certainly as tbe mouth. Palmistry, or the science by which character and destiny are read iu tbe lines of the hand, is yet crude and uncer tain and unsatisfactory, but as astrology was tbe mother of astronomy and alchemy was the mother ol chemistry it may be tli.it palmistry will result in a science yet to be born. Again, as the chief executive officer ot the soul, behold tbe band busy in the arts! What a comparatively dull place tbis world would be without pictures, without statuary, without music, without architec ture! Have you ever realized wbat Arty sreming miracles are in the Ave minutes' fluttering of piano or harp or Aute? Who but the eternal Qod could make a hnnd capable ot that swift sweep of tbe keys or tbat quick feeling of the pulses of a Aute or the twirl of the Angers amid tbe strings of the harp? All tbe composers of music wlio drenmed out the oratorios a:id tbe cantatas of tbe ages would have had their work dropped flat and useless but tor the translations of tbe band. Under tbe d jft Angers of the performer what cavalries gallop and what batteries boom and what birds carol and what tempests march and what oceans billow! Tbe great architects of the earth might have thought out the Albambras and the Parthenons and the ISt. Sophias and the Taj Mahals, but all those visions would have vanished had it not been for tbe baud on hammer, on plummet, on trowel, on wall, on arob, on pillar, on stairs, on dome. In two discourses, one concerning tho ene-aud the otber concerning tbe eye, I 8 ke from the potent text io tbe Psalms, "He that planted tbe ear, shall He bOt hear?" and "He that formed the eye, shall He not see?" but wbat use ia the eye and what nse In the ear if the hand had not been strung with all its nerves and moved with all its muscles and reticulated with all its joints and strengthened with all Its boues and contrived with all Its ingenui ties! The band bath forwarded all the arts and tunneled tbe mountains through which the rail train thunders and launched all the shipping and fought all the buttles and built all tbe temples and swung all the caoles nndertbesea as well as lifted to midair the wire tracks on which whole trains of thought rush across the con tinents and built all the cities and hoisted the pyramids. Do not eulogize the eye and ear at the expense of the band, for tbe eye may be blotted out, as In tbe case of Milton, and yet his hand writes a "Paradise Lost" or a "Samson Agonistes;" as in the case of Will iam H. Prescott, and yet bis band may write the enchanting "Conquest ot Peru." Or tbe car may be silenced forever, as In the case of Beethoven, and yet his hand mav put into immortal cadences tbe "Ninth Symphony." Oh, tbe band! The Ood fashioned hand! Tbe triumphant hand! I: is an open Bible of Divine revelation, and tbe Ave Angers are tbe Isalab and tbe K.e kiel and tbe David and tbe Micah and tbe Paul of that almighty inspiration. ' A pastor in his sermon told how a little ebild appreciated tbe value of his hand when he was told that on the morrow it must be amputated in order to save his life. Hearing thul, he went to a quiet Elnce and prayed tbat Qod would spare Is band. The surgeon, coming the next day to do bis work, found tbe hand so much better that amputation was post poned, and tbe band got well. The pastor, telling of this In a sermon, concluded by holding up his hand and saying, 'That is the very hand tbat was spared In an swer to prayer, and I hold it up, a monu ment of Divine mercy." Again, the hand in the chief executive of ficer of the soul when wrung In agony. Tears of relief are sometimes denied to trouble. Tbe eyelids at such time are as hot and parched and burning as the brow. At such time even tbe voice is suppressed, and there is no sob or outcry. Then tbe wringing of the band tells tbe story. At the close ot a life wasted In sin sometimes comes that expression of tbe twisted Angers the memory of years that will never return, of opportunities the like ot which will never again occur, and con science ia its wrath pouncing upon the soul, and all the past a horror, only to be surpassed by the approaching horror. So a man wrings his hands over tbe casket of h dead wife whom he has cruelly treated. So a man wrings his bauds at tbe fate of sous aud daughters whose prospects have beeu rained by bis inebriety and neglect and depravity. So tbe siuuer wrings bis bauds when, after a life full of oiTers ot pardon arid peace ami heaven, he dies without hope. Wbentherenre sorrows too poignant for lamentation on the lip aud too hot for the tear glands to write in let ters of crystal on the cheek, the baud re cites tbe tragedy with more emphasis than anything iu "Macbeth" and "King Lear." But it Is Dot always in such glad g eeting that we can employ our right baud. Alas that so often we have to employ tin, hand In farewell salutation! If your right baud retained some impress ot all such use-, It would be a volume of bereavomuuts. Oh. the goodbys la which your right hand has participated! Goodby at the steamhoat wharf. QooJby at t ie rail tr:iin win-low. Qoodhy before the opening of the battle. Goodby at the dying pillow. We all n.-erieil grace for such handshakings, thou:;'t our hand was strong and their hand was weak, and we will need criice for tbe coa.ing goodbys, and that grace we had betierpeelc wlule amid the felicities of l.en 1( It i.ml homes uii'iroken. Thank Go J there will be no goodby in beuvenl If all men were to perish who did not succeed in obtaining what they wish, all mankind would die. To take the long end of the lever against love is to pry ourselves out of existence as human beings. Pitch in, young man! and remember this the world don't owe you but one thing a decent funeral. Truth generally flashes a light on us not becoming to our style of beauty. World's coal fields cdver 471,800 square miles. There is a certain kind of laziness that often succeeds the best. Wind is not wisdom. Serve and deserve. The obedient man gains obedience. Motives are greater than methods. Farm Notes. A CENSUS OF FLORICULTURE. Washington, D. C. Owing to the un usual intelligence of florists as a class, and the fact that the statistics of their business which the Census Office re quires, relate almost entirely to the year 1899, a plan has been formed for taking an early census of floriculture by mail, on special schedules, and to tabulate and publish the returns there of early,, while other branches of the great work of enumeration are In pro gress. There are approximately 10.500 flo rists irt the United States. The names and addresses of a majority of them have been secured and classified by the Division of Agriculture in the Census Office, and each known proprietor will soon receive a copy of tbe special schedule devoted to this Interest. It will be accompanied by a list (so far aa ascertained) of all the florists in his section, to be by him corrected, added to and returned to the department for use in making the record complete and reliable. This special schedule is not elaborate or complicated. It may be filled out easily and quickly by any florist who keeps a reasonably accurate sun of his business. It asks for the 1899 acreage devoted to floriculture and of each crop or variety of plants and flowers; the total area of square feet under glass and the area of each crop or va riety of flower or plant raised there under; the number of persons employed and the total wages paid to them; the amount expended for catalogues, pos tage and fertilizers respectively, and the gross receipts from the sales in each subdivision of the business. No private Individuals will be per- TV. it t a i fn V. i . -u ..-..it-rt ti . Vi i nh.il. J ules after they have been filled out and returned, no will the names of per- i 80ns or firm8 Biving sons or firms giving information be published in the census report. Fig ures only will be used and published, and the entire process and record of gathering Information will be confi dential. As the law requires the regular enu merators to obtain certain information as to tenure, value, etc., during their visits in June, the next census of flori culture, if the florists themselves shall be prompt and conscientious in filling j out and returning the special schedules soon to be sent to them, will be the most perfect in history. They will be put to no expense, as the necetsary stationery. with envelopes properly franked, will be provided for their use. Washington, D. C. The preliminary work of the Census Office in collecting data relative to the arid and sub-humid regions shows that during the past ten years vast areas have been re claimed by irrigation, both by ditching from running streams and drilling for subterranean waters. Where only a few years ago the sage brush struggled for existence in the midst of a waste of alkali and sand, to-day are fields of waving grain and blossoming orange-groves. Hundreds of miles of canals and ditches have been constructed; hundreds of wells have been sunk, and thousands of acres of land have been cultivated in zones where once the desolation of Sahara , reigned. Moistened by fresh waters and fer !tilizedjby the rich silt of the swift j mountain -Tf" - .tf!"? Southwest, have become as fertile ae I the famous Valley of the Nile, and send forth crops of endless variety and ex ! ceeding abundance. ' Irrigation is Intensive farming. Where I the water supply is ample, it is sure i farming. There are no failures, and : crops are enormous. The experienced Irrigator is like the trained engineer with his hand on the lever. The move- rnents of his hand regulate the amount ; of water supplied to his fields as those of the engineer control his engine. I In most of the irrigable sections of I the West, fertilizers have never been ! used, although the land has been con i stantly cultivated for over two centu I ries. In many sections fields may be 1 seen which have yielded successive crops of wheat for forty years and show no diminution of productive strength. Wonderful progress is shown in the methods of constructing canals, dams and pumping machinery, and in the manner of distributing water. Modern inventions in machinery have greatly lessened the time, labor and cost of construction and management and made possible many gigantic enter prises of land reclamation and water utilization. Mountains have been tunneled and whole rivers have been lifted from their beds and spread over the vaiieys precisely as wanted. High up in the ranges and on the elevated plateaus immense storage reservoirs have been constructed to impound the flood-waters of the streams so that the thirsty land below shall not suffer during the long rainless summer. As the successful solution of the problem of conservation of flood waters means the reclamation of millions of acres of public land, the people natur ally ask the Government to promote measures having this end in view. To this demand the Government responds. Lands containing excellent reservoir sites have been set aside and a thor ough study of the sources and perma nence of the water supply of arid re gions has been made to enable Con gress to legislate with intelligence upon this important subject. In aid of this work the Twelfth Cen sus will endeavor comprehensively to show the present condition and values of Agriculture in the arid and sub-humid regions: the length, irrigable ex tent and co3t of the various canals, wells and ditches; the character, vol ume and constancy of water supply; systems employed in distribution; amount paid for water and the crops; acreage, and yield of Irrigated farms. This effort will be successful if those Interested in Irrigation shall heartily co-operate with the Census Office and Its agents. Within a brief period the main sched frtr tnkincr thp ppnnUR nf IrrieAtlnn ' will be distributed, and Director Mer- riam requests that all recipients pre pare properly to fill them out and to return them promptly. The thousands of shocks of corn on the ground on the rarms along the lines of the railroads are evidences of the enormous waste of corn fodder that annually occurs. Some of this wet, frosted and dry material is thrown into the barnyard for the cattle to pick over, thus exposing the animals to the cold. There is considerable labor de voted to corn fodder before It Is put In shock and such labor is thrown away because the fodder is left in the fields to be injured. The use of the fodder when it is in good condition would per mit of the sale of hay, and thus in crease the revenue. In a warm climate fruit Is sufficient to sustain life, but up in the Arctic re gions oil and fat are essential. In the feeding of live stock the temperature of the atmosphere should always be considered. Hundreds of farmers feed the same ration the year round. So much corn or oats is given whether the season is winter or summer. The ani mals may eat all that 'is allowed, but I they become fat In summer and do not gain In winter. During severely cold I weather a large proportion of grain ! should be given, especially of corn, 1 while the supply of hay should not be i reduced. ; Ox .'; 4.- rJi aw "?