Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, April 08, 1887, Image 1

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    VOL. XXIV.
m COURT su.
i>, , i ol an order of the Orphans V rl of
■ ait'., tlx- uuUersltfued KxrcuKoi the
lVirii wUi ai.iv-siaineut Of IMiK-rt Fleintii (iec'd
latent- i'l • ouffiv. will offer at publlcile on
III*, pr. ..It- - in the Village of Petersvll. < on
noqn-nes Ing iwp.. said county, ou.
Tuesday, April IS
\ I) !*•>; at ill o'clock, am- the fojwing
described real estaet of said de
cedent. to-wlt: A lot of RTO»tn. con
talutii, •OM'i'i feet, more or less, ill said Magi
and township, bounded on the north by mrad
Ni -li. L.i . ensi by Sylvanus Henshew (fcnerly
Kuox south by an alley and west by ast<et.
A FRAME and LOU HOSE
and out-bulldlmts thereon erected.
TKH.MS: one-third in hand ou contention
or sale bx till' Court, balance in two eqil an
nual Installments with Interest. Detern pay
ments to be secured by Ij<'Jj'l£ juu'l
t t * Execor.
ESTATE OF JOHN WOLF(RD
LATE OF DOKKttAL TP.
letters >f administration having been Knted
to the undersigned In the estate o. oli.iNo -
f.. 1 ' v. ill please make Immediately -
l.avmg claims a(?a.nst said .tale
Will pre-r.it iheni duly authenticated lor tue
. HvIIKIKTT WoI.KOKD
lueut. HariiUarts Mills, JO.
F. 11. MO.NXIB, x
Souora. F. O.
S. F. Bowser, Att'y. Admlnisttors,
Estate of C. A. McKinney
I.ATB '1 CONNOqVBSESSISO TWP.. DKC
I etters ' •stainentary on the estate of A.
M feint Ivs-l- dec a late ol Counwiuenwng
.V'o.. Fa- having been grant! to
• the e.- -1 'i.ed, all persons knowing em
selves b' . i-d to said estate will make Uue
dWte u i ie»i and any having claims aUnsi
said i'V .ill present theinduly auth. itat
ed fur s. , tltiueiit. .. . ,
ROUKBT McKINNKV.t Kxls
A. F. Mi'Kisstv. i
Coanoquenesslng F.<>.. turner C 0.,».
Estate of David Humell,
LAKE OF CHEKKY TWP.. DSC'd.
1 ..Iter, I stamentury on the estate of ivid
, .i iate of t'heny twp..; ButleCo
r-i 11 ..in ■ l,ten 'ranted to the undersign* all
« l . iii. themselves Indebted toaid
!.s, r Tt J e .wli immediate payrnt
and anv v.;iig claims against said
pre,-,it .hem duly
1,. 1). IiCMELI.. »
Coalville F. 0., Butler Co., i.
Estate or David Marshall
I.ATK OK PKOKPECT, BEC'D.
I otters of administration having been gT«ed
to the undersigned on the estateol * r "
snail I>U liite of i respect, lJuilCLo.
Fa -ill i rsoiis knowing themselves Indeed
to said el. de will please make Immediateuj
inetii. am: any ha'. nig elalm-s uguins.said eili
will prt.-eut»in-m duly authenticated for s.k.-
Bii-iit. M AK'l'll A Adm :
prospect. Uutlei Co.,
Lev. MctyuisUon, Att'y-
FOR SALE OR EXCHANG.
K,HM Oi irr. acres near It. R. station. Wres
improved l:ui<i. convenient to i'lttsburg ; irn
is icKi-i ami cost -I.VK.-is good as new-aiod
c room Ir.uiie house, good orchard. Friee ltH).
MI.HIT PAY M ASH IMKFKItKN. K OU » He.
We have -.mall and large farms lor sate or tile
Fateut aud F. nsion cases prosecuted, iad
the new M.-n>i«»n laws and write to us I
J JI STKVRXSMNS &Co s Agenc;
' ' 100 Fifth Ave., Pittsburg, i.
~~ Stallion For Sale.
I will sell my half blood Percheron st*li<»
ikivv risinir tliree yesirs. He Is h tljirk
size aud st\ le. sir< d by C hris Heifer, o» wd b
Turner and Moore , dam a prize-winning c.»r
riam and > oadster mare. For terms or particu
l!U« eilnuire a, my
Prospect, Pa,
Clinton Twp. Auditors' Report.
MARCH 14, IssT.
Am't ol duplicate tor the year ISM,
Jumes M. Kiddle, coUector
Exonerations * " *. ~r
<olleetors per cent <.i
Nit amountilue t0wn5hip.......... ;J.
Am't rec'tl ironi J as. M. Ulddle, Col -fifi *'
Bal. ilue from James M. Riddle, Col $29 91
Hal. due twp. from J. IS. Cunning- _
hum. Collector tor I**". •*
Exonerations 1
L Kec d from J. n. Cunningham T» M
TT.il. due Treasurer **> »•»
Bal. in bands at Treasurer l- 08
Uec'd Hum J as. M. Kiddle, coUector 39r» 00
Am't tn hands ot Treasurer W7
Vouchers redeemed
Bal. Iu hands ot Treasurer " ir,
Am't of vbucliers redeemed by Treas
John llarvey. repairing bridge J on
Andrew .Urabe. repairing bridge... 1 <*>
John B. Davis, plank • ®
Ek#s Brothers, timber tor bridge.. 13 on
John Olasgow, timber - w
Stephen Hemphill 1 *•
John M. (.ireer. attorney tee 10 oo
Builci' ( r .zen, advertising Audi
tors' Report * ,l 0
R/McElv: si, llllng Report 1 50
John s. Love, timber for biidge — • oo
■flames Rid,lie, services 1- '*>
Thomas ii v. plank 13 oo
K. K. Maurhnif, services 1- "0
K. B. ( li; 111'.er 10 67
Edward lia.',, timber 1 6*
Heavy St i' 1 j,'i, services aiul limber. 13 iw
Win. lluriner. services 12 00
.|ai;;t> M. liiddlo, plauk 24 37
Vewtmi "■ /ils, plank 21 37
John 1(. I'aVis, plank 16 25
John MeiiWien, timber 1 s9
Wm. llai vo". services and See'y — _'l oo
A. Bail ley. vivlees and work 14 «>i»
\v. F. Wulskeuian. timbers plank 12 15
A. Montgomery, plank l »■>
Jos. Boon timber 2 *7
Win. llarvey. expenses to Butlei.. c oo
R. Morris ss
Jos. FUel . timber 2 10
Wm. Wood, timber 2 IA
11. Sefton. repairing road :*> no
Wm. Burtner. timber 2 74
A. I'. stark, index boards 4 50
T. A. Bartl'\v. putting up tinger
boarils 1 no
Sarah Love, tlmlier 2 20
Wm. Burtner, expenses to Butler. •4 <m
I'se Of Muse 4 00
Auditors' services 6 oo
Treasurer's percent c 47
, $329 03
Stationery 27
TAX. "
Aiji't of poor tajf in hands of Treas 1227 04
Ain't of voncKn's redeemed
John Halsutaa , $ 2 00
James Watson 2 oo
Am't in hands of Treasurer $223 oi
We, the Auditors'ot Clinton township, have
examined iue accounts of John s. Love, Treas
urer of < ilnton townslilp. road and poor tax and
find It as ;.uuve stated and believe It to be cor
rect, this 4t U day of March, tss~.
JAMKS SNIDER, 1
THOMAS WOOD, J Auditors.
WILLIAM LOVE. )
FARM" FORSALE
A well ir.',,raved farm of 134 aeres situated In
Worth tp., .>le.eercomity. I'a. Will be sold at
a bargain. Ativ one desiTiitg a good farm cheap
wiii llnd what they want in tins one. .
For fortinr information address
L.J, KIMMBI., Henderson,
2 25-41 Mercfir Co., P*.
JURY LIST FOR APRIL.
List of Jurors drawn to serve In a spe<l«l
coutt, cotnmriicing the 4lh Monday of Anil.
lielng the li day. I**7:
Ii Hon* :' ; el. t'onpoquencsslng tp N, farmtr.
(TiiinUif s. clay, taimer.
Ci'icliran K Mercer, farmer,
f'am'fibt-U Wiii 11. Concord, farmer.
I r. A IT. ( lay. farmer.
Canipiiell S A Washington twp s. farmer,
l amjiliell J. slal|. Cpncprd. farmer.
CavlUers Japiusou, ( lav, farmer. *
CdUlter Th'i-. 11, Concord (armor.
l»i.ur>l»-1! r, churry twp N, farmer.
Dunbar Samuel, Middlesex, fanner.
l>outlu>(' J' •-■eph, Adams, farmer. WP*
Evans T 11. Donegal, producer.
I'arnsworUi i'arson. Itutler twp. faftner.
Korsvthe James, Adams, farmer.
(Jiah.im Albert. ( ranbeny. farmer.
Henderson W B. Mercer, teamster,
llardman (;eorge. Forward, farmer,
lilndman James. concord, farmer.
Il.i/elett Lewis. Wlntield, farmer,
llet/.elgesser J J, Wlntlrld, farmer.
Hespenlilte Henry. Adams, farmer,
liocher W.n Lancaster, farmer.
Klld-io K s. Muddycreek, farmer,
Kaufman John. Adams, farmer.
Kamerer \v m, Falrvlew twp E. farmer. *
l.ocan Thomas Middlesex, farnu r.
I "Hi' lit- m • Jefferson, farm; r.
M'.f'(TlUiu[*li V. S 'Falrvlew twp E, farmer
wrrsriiwrr / l(,C|a). farmer.
Moi'iii! vv 'i r. tin. firmer,
M'ivfesi' i. Jaiiies ParKor, farmer.
Morrison James, LancaMor, farmer.
Manny John. Butler twp, farmer.
Mechlin# W T. Butler lK>ro2d precinct clerk
Meederl <• Adanv, boarding house
Mayer M,it ! i!aßrady, fanner.
M' i Mi.-iia I. Venango, fanner
Martin Christ.. Venango, farmer. ' 1
McCoy R.J '■••ri. farmer
McNees Jaiiies, Brady, farmer. ' '
N'eljel Baiv. Sainmlt. farmer.
Naugle 11 .r> M iddycrt-ek. farmer.
Porti-r Jo >i. !. Marlon, firmer
Painter J i. ( lay. teamster. 1
Peuroe D; .1 lialdrldge. farmer 1
siittou J if Butler Iwrn 2d preclnpt cieri- 1
Shearer A -drew, Buffalo, farmer. 1
Stewart Art cy. Conntxiuenessliig twp x, farm
Muith Edi.. m:t. supperyrock, farmer
:jtudcbii'. W; Worth, farmer.
Ti'lc! Wl' winr.ejd, rarmer. '
Wasijlugton twp S, f -inhi.
vV Jltou D•. , Cetitrevuio bSro, farmer. j
■ u,i if ¥ 111 I <
11 i | VMM i
lor Dm.,- i, ravel. orlgiiLs, Heart. I'rlnarv
or Liver l>l>.-ases. .Nervousness. <tc. Cure (,uar
ante d. Office s:u Arch strc't. PhliadeUiUla. |l.
per bottle. i> for f.".. At Druggists, rrv It,
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
A QUESTION ABOUT
Browns Iron
Bitters
ANSIVERED.
The qae*»tion hus probably t>een asked thnrxsMnda
of tim^a.' How can Brown's Iron Bitters cure
thing Well, it But it doe« cure any dii*«asa
f' r \vhich a reputable physician would prescribe 1 UO>
Physicians recognize Iron as the t>est restorative
ftt'-nl known to the profession, and inauirj of :iry
It- uling chemical tinn will substantiate (heasserti -n
that there are more nreparations of iron than <»f any
other substance usea in medicine This shr>ws con
clusively that iron is acknowledged to be the m t
important factor in successful medical prrctice. It is,
ho-.retrer. a remarkable fact. th.itpri'K - to the discov
ery.* BROWN'S I If ON HITTERS no perfect
ly satisfactory iron ombination had ever been found.
BROWN'S IRON BITTERSfcI-iiS
headache, or produce conßtipation—nil of lirr iron
medicines do. BROW N S IKON BITTERS
cure** lutlifrewtion, Biliou«iieaM, Weakness,
Dyspepsia, .Malnrin, Chills and Fevers,
Tired Feellnfjipueral Oebility,Pain iu the
Side, Bnek or Limbs, Headache and Neural
4fia—for all these ailments Iron is prescribed daily.
BROWN'S IRON BITTERS.^t:
minute. Liko all other thorough medicines, it acts
slow'y. When taken by m»n the first symptom of
ben* it is renewed enerjfy. The muscles then become
fin *.er. the digestion improves, the bowels are active.
In iromeii the effect is usually more rapid and marked
Th* eyes begin at once to brighten: the skin clean
up. healthy color comes to th* checks; nervou.«ne«s
disipfjears; functional derangements Income reir*-
Kr. and if a nursing m«»ther. abnndant sustenance
is supplied for the child. R»*memt>*'r Brown's Iron
Bitters is the ONLY iron medicine th.it is n-1 in
jurious. Phytiriant and Jirugghtn recommrifl it.
The Genuine has Trade Mark and crossed red lines
cn wrapper. TAKE NO OTIIKIi.
SCOTT'S
EMULSION
OF FUSE GOD LIVES OH
Ar.d Hypopliosphiies of Lime & Sods
Almost as Palatable as Milk.
The only preparation of COD LITER OIT< that
can bo taken readily and tolerated for a long time
by (Ulirale sloiinirhs.
ivp AS A iiKwrnr ron ro\snfPTiov,
KliWl I.OIS AIH l Tl'iNS. AN AFBIA, CKV
EK.TII TTTTiiMi v. < oralis AM") IHKOAT IF
FEI T'O XS ami all \V A> IlN<. DISO.im itS
CHILPItEX it is piarTcllous in its results.
rrascril*d aud ou'lor.-pil by tlio beat tiiysiciana
in tiie countries of tho world.
For Snltr by all Prusglih.
for Pamphlet on Wast ing Diseases. Ad
drcta. SCOT'S- di UOW.\K.Kew York.
SliarpPains!
Backache, Bheuxnatiam, Crick, Bpraiiis, Neural
gia, Stitchee, Bciatica, Lame Side or Hip, Kidney
Affections, Sore Chest or pain in any part, local
or dcep-seatod, quickly go when a Hop Plaster
is applied. Prepared from Burgundy Pitch,
Canada Balsam and the medicinal virtues of fresh
H-ps. Acts instantly, cures quickly. The great
est Btrcnx;chening plaster ever known. All ready
to apply. Sold by druggist and country stores,
25 ets., sfor SI.OO. Mailed for price. Proprie*
tors, HOP PLASTER CO., Boston, Mass.
Hop Plaster
IAV-FEVER
ELY'S CREAM BALM
hot a liquid, snuff or "powder. Applied
ii nostrils it quirk!)/ absorbed. It cleanses
thead. Allays inflammation, lleals the
#«. Restores the senses of taste and smell.
Bri >*at by mail, registered, 60 cents.
E BROTHERS, Druggists, Owcgo,>'V.
for Healtli
JR VEGETABLE
L COMPOUND.
jf ls a Positive Cure
ii Jf* oT Painful
<§£& Complaints and
"lIWJ 1 'V jnt. om P^ ca^€ d troubles and
C ') Weaknesses so common
V , .. 1 among out Wives, Mothers,
■taftaSgWTlj. anti Daughters.
v?[y,\| IyPLEASAST TO THB
, i,y TASTE, »nuilops,
ABL&Z' li. -V MMEIiLtTE AN'n LAST
ITS EFKECt
k'r" ( , I ■ 1 WI in. iln. OH
tOZESGE FORM, ii
" lon J5.) taxing
y e £T) (01 OF TICE I.ATTF.*
Cr, 6ENTBV MHI.KKT
/■as rr.oji OBCLBVATIOV, ox BECEIPT OF mk.
ICS. PINKILkM'3 '•OtIDK TO HEALTH" AND CojiyiDHN
TL*InCOA.VIt XIAiLED TO A.XY LADY FINDING AliMiKKft
3LP T<> LTXS, JUSS. Xeiitwii this l^u^r,
TS MERITS KEEP UP THE SALE.
TIP JS A BLESMWO TO O\ ERWOREZU WOMEN. IT ItE
WOI FJJNTM.SB, AIX C HAVING 3TOXI STI3JL**
lana>'l> i;i-i JEVI.S weakness OF THE BTOUACJI. CUBXS
LKUEIKEA. JIEN'BTi:UAI.ri Rl'il>S I'A >ED Without PAIN.
hy6lciano Uso It and Proccribc It.
REVIVES TUB DROOPING SEIRITS, INVIGORATES ASTi
U 'iUZES TOE I»HGANIO KUNCTIOUS, GIVES EEASTICIIY
iXHJLNESS TO THE STEP. REHTc THE NATURAJ. LCSTRK
lOltl E, AND PLANTS ON THE PALE C HEEE OP W« -MANTHE
th 4tOf>n3 OF UKE'h SI'IONG AND EARLY SLM3IEU TiilE.
WEARY WOMEN PRAISE IT.
JtsrpiKHC is solel j for the legitimate healing of di»-
< 4 ae l the rvliefof jKiin, and it does ALL it claims todo.
It I cure entirely nil ovarian or vaginal troubles,
InJUjuitimi and Ulceration. Fullin>jami Ihspluccmm
and >,sequent Spinal Weakness, and is particularly
atlajl to the Change of Life,
AN ANCEL OF MERCY.
TURAMAFL'S Sure Friend FOK ALLDEUCATE ANI» COM
rLIC.D TE< 'TTBI-ES. I«A DLFLS IT WILL NOT I*KRF<»KM SURGICAL
OI'EKONFI OR CTBE CANCER, BI T !T WILL UNDER ALL CIR
► FEELING OF HEAHIN'G DOWK, CAUSING I'AIN, WEIGHT
AND UK ACHE. IS ALWAYS lERRA.NENTI.Y CC RED BY ITs USE.
Sold by OruyxiHlH.
MK<*iNKHAM\S JATVEH MLLS a'RK COMSTII-ATION,
PTLHA-ERB AND T«.R»'II»ITY (»F THE LLVER, 2o CV.HTH.
SJR VEYING
LA J),
COAL BANKS,
AND LEVELING.
Parliilar attention given to the Ketracing ol
old iiis. Address,
B. 1 111 LLI.4 III),
C'o. Surveyor
N'orth Hope I'. 0., Uutler Co., I'a.
•Wly
FOR 5.% liK
rarnn>lljll»,C(iu! I.titulx, Kir..in Western Penn
sj'fani: by W. J. KISKAI»IM).\, Krecport, l'a.
Every londay m Freeport and every Tuesday
at I'ittsurph. 129 Fifth Ave., 2d Iloor. Send
for prited list. may 25.84,1y.
AFFICTED UNFORTUNATE
_A.ft>r till others fail consult
Dr. LOBB
329 Nlsth 3t., below Callowhill, Phila., Pa.
20 ycamxpcrwicein all NPEn.% diseases. Per
in.nlent I)lx3tores those weakened by early indiscre
tions,&c Call or write. Advice free and .strictly con
fidential. Hours : ii a. m. till 2, and 7 to JO evenings.
CM LgSMElff
.\ WANTED H
invass for the -;tle of Nurserj X ■
J'cadv ••nip'oynieiit miaranteed. Sulury
ami I.MiSSKS PAID. Apply at once, stating ay*
Chast Brothers, ( roc-hlstkb^T^
WAHIE0 —LADY A f ' vc '"tciiiecnt, to
THE SADDEST FATE.
To lunch ;i broken lntr*.
To strike a jangled string.
[ To strive with tcnes forever mute
The dear old tune to sing,—
Wbat sadder fa;e could a iy heart* befall t
Al.is. dear child, never to sintc at all!
To sigh on pleasures flown.
To weep for withered flowers.
To count the blessings we have known
And call no longer ours.—
What sadder fate could a i\ heart befall .'
Alas, dear child, ne'er to have loved at all!
To dream of peace a id rest.
To know the'dreuui is past.
To bear within a:i a'diing Ureasi
On'ya void at last.—
Wliat sadder fate c.iu'.tl aii> heart befall'.'
Alas, dear child,ne'er to hive dreamed at all
To trust an unknown good.
To hope, but all in vain,
tiver a f.ir-off bliss to brood
Only to find it pain,—
What sa lder fate could and soul befall?
Alas, di a child, 1 ever to hope at all !
Throw ii From the Clouds,
From Deinorest for April, l
Que clear uftercoju in the autumn
of 1874, a monster balloon could be
seen tugging wildly at its anchor
ropes just without thecityof Chester.
Tlie enormous mass of iullated silk
looked like some huge bird of pray,as it
fitfully obeyed every puff of wind, aud
seemed to nod a fctubborn anjuies
to the will of its owner. The open
space of country was crowded with
people, who had journeyed many
miles from the surrounding villages
to witness the ascension of the hot
air balloon—a sight » hieh they had
never seen, aud, probably, would
never have have an opportunity of
seeing again. The aerouaut, known
by the name of Bill Mitchell, stood
surveying the creation of his own
hand is just pride as it floated above
the heads of the dense throng, and
each shout of admiration sent a thrill
of pleasure through his brvast. He
had nickuamed his aerial car
"Mollie," a name indellibly impress
ed upon his memory of past bitter as
sociations. It was generally whis
pered about that iu his early life he
had loved a young and beautiful girl,
whose affection for him was only
equaled by her purity aud gentleness.
The two were engaged to be married;
but before their hopes could be con
summated the cruel grave claimed the
f'air-haired girl for its own, and Bill
Mitchell was left alone, a broken
hearted, grief stricken man. He
spugbt relief from his sorrow in va
rious ways, and fiualiy took up the
field of science as a penacea for his
misery. He was a man capable of
strong passions, and, when he devot
ed his attention to his specialty, he
entered into it with his whole heart
and soon reaped the just reward of
his labors. He became noted as a
scientist and a scholar, and when he
traveled he found himself the centre
of attraction.
But this flattery was not the object
after which he was aiming; it was
rather galling and disgustiDg to him,
for, having imbibed freely some of the
cynic views of the old sages in his
line of thought.he was inclined to look
upon the world and its inhabitants
through the discolored glass of the
misanthrope. He loved his books
and the memory of the departed one
whose affections he had oncejbut noth
more. -
A strange theory regarding the at
mosphere surrounding the earth had
been gradually forming itself in his
mind for years past, and so effectual
ly had he convinced himself that he
had the key to a great discovery in
his grasp, that he ignored everything
else but his pet hobby. Ni#ht and
day he toiled over his table in his lab
oratory, drawing, thinking, experi
menting, doubting, and rejoicing
Tie theory of the past night was
swept away by the theory of the
morning; the drawings and sketchings
of year were mercilessly consigned to
the fire, and a new set laboriously de
signed. With the patience of a phi
losopher he toiled at his bench, striv
ing to perfect bis scheme. Men
whispered about that he was work
ing upon some great discovery that
would revolutionize the existing or
der of things, and make the theories
of the past, regarding the earth's
structure and its surroundings, ap
pear absurd and ridiculous. But the
nature of the discovery none knew.
The ecientest was careful to avoid all
conversation about his pet scheme,
and few were brave enough to pry
into his laboratory.
But at the expiration of five years,
Bill Mitchell announced to his towns
people one day, through the local pa
per, that his plans were nearly con
summated, and that on a certaiu day
he would make the great experiment
of his life. He had constructed a bal
loon of large dimensions, which was
capable of carrying several men
through the air with ease. In this
aerial car he had securely fastened a
set of curious instruments, polished
brightly, and bearing the familiar
name of Mollie upon them. These
instruments were the work of five
years, and they were to record for the
scientist the necessary facts and ob
servations for the perfection of his
great discovery. So fine and delicate
were the mechanisms of the carefully
const ucted recorders that th« sligbt
breath would affect theni, and the pa
per-like w heels would rush around with
astonishing rapidity. A casual glance
would suffice to convince an observ
ing mind of labor and brain power re
quired to invent and perfect them.
They were both unique in their de
sign and make, and entirely unlike
any similar instruments used for tak
ing atmospheric observations The
inventor alone knew how to use them,
aod the object for which they were to
be employed. The balloon was au
ordinary hqt-air bag, only of extraord
inary size, constructed so for the pur
pose of carrying the heavy machin
ery in the small car. It was to be
cut loose from its anchorage at an
early hour in the day; and before the
sun was scarcely an hour high,
throngs of people began to assemble
on the open field where the monster
bird was to start off ou its journey.
Bill Mitchell quietly surveyed the
floating bag of silk for a full minute
before he attempted into the
sin all car, dragging w '3fn a few feet
of the earth. Then, with a smile of
on his deeply furrowed
face, he quickly ascended the rope
ladder, and leaped iuto his narrow
quarters. Everything was carefully
arranged, and all possible emergen
cies provided for; and the aeronaut
felt conlideut that his voyage would
be a successful one. At the proper
moment the sigual to let go was given,
and the balloon was cut loose from its
moorings.
I'or a moment the huge creature
appeared to heßitate about starting;
and then with a tremendous bound
«n 1 jerk it leaped far up iuto the air,
like a bird suddenly set free after a
long captivity Straight as a rocket
it shot upwards until reaching an al
titude of several hundred feet, when
it halted and began to drift along
with the current of air. The multi
tude below cheered aud shouted until
their voices sounded like the distant
rumble of thunder. The aeronaut
glauced over the side of the car, and
goz"d at the earth far beneath him.
It was the first time he had ever as
cended in a balloon, and the sensa
tions were new and startling to him
The country lay spread out before
him for miles, and in the distance
villages, cities, lakes, rivers and
mountains could be seen, forming an
endless panorama of unrivalled beau
ties. The people walking on the
ground appeared small and insignifi
cant, and as the balloon gradually
rose higher they disappeared into
mere specks and blots. Their voices
were no longer audible, and only oc
casionally an indistinct murmer reach
ed bis ears from old mother earth.
The wind was blowing northwest,
and wafting the car inland. The
great rolling ocean was visible upon
the extreme left, and directly ahead
the towering, peaks of the mountains
rose up like gigantic sentinels. For
a moment a sickening sensation came
over the solitary traveler, and he
wished that he could once more tread
the firm earth; but such thoughts
were not to be entertained long. The
balloon was rising, and it remained
with himself to guide it through the
air.
The daring scientist now turned
his attention to his balloon. The
great hag was still rising higher, and
drifting slowly along His instru
ments recorded an altitude of over
thousand feet, and the earth's surface
was a mere indistinguishable mass.
A heavy bag of ballast was thrown
out, and the balloon, feeling the sud
den relief, leaped higher with tre
mendous jerks. The complete silence
of the atmosphere became painful to
the giddy scientist, and he bad to use
every effort to keep his nerves steady.
His nervous hand trembled so that it
was with difficulty that he could han
dle his instruments. Suddenly the
balloon drifted into a dense cloud
floating across the heavens. A loud
clicking noise from the recorders in
formed the aeronaut of the change in
the temperature, and, immediately
controlling himself, he took note of
the fact, making some dots and fig
ures on bis pad of paper. The cloud
drifted by,and the sunlight once more
streamed down upon the floating car.
But the heavens rapidly assumed a
threatening look; heavy cloudy scur
ried swiftly through the air, and
caused the owner of the Mollie to
tremble with fear.
"Now is my time," he shouted to
himself,as the balloon drifted iuto the
mountainous regions, and the tall
peaks nearly reached up to a level
with his car. "Here is the place to
take my observations. If all fails,
I'm lost. Come, come, one final ef
fort for the mastery of these great el
ements, and then my scheme is com
pleted."
lie removed the glass cover from
one of his instruments as he spoke,
and began to arrange the fine, delicate
needles, loaded with heavy magnets.
The mechanism was quickly put to
gether, but the machinery refused to
work. The wheels remained immov
able, and the needles only trembled
from the effects of the jerking of the
balloon. The scientist knit his brows
in deep thought, and his nervous
hands clutched the side of his frail
car with a terrible grip. Had he for
gotten something, or was the whole
thing a complete failure? He shud
dered fearfully ut the thought, and
gnashed his teeth with rage as he
glanced defiantly heavenward. The
clouds were all about him, and the
stillness of the grave had settled over
the whole heavens. The atmosphere,
too, was becoming oppressive; but he
heeded not this now. His mind was
absorbed with one thought.
Was he high enough? The ques
tion caused a faint pieam of hope to
flash across his scared countenance,
and quickly seizing another sand-bag
he threw it nervously over the side of
the balloon The car ascended five
hundred feet, and then moved along
as before. The instrument now be
gan to show signs of moving. Every
passing cloud made it click slight
lY-
"Higher still," almost shrieked the
man, as he cast forth a third bag of
sand, and watched the instrument
with glaring eye?, while the great
balloon rose up in the air.
"It moves! It moves!" he cried in
ecstasy.
It was true; the instrument began
to vibrate, now moving around with
low clicks, and then making long,reg
ular beats. A white sheet of paper
was put under the needles, and each
time that the wheels revolved a small
dot was made on it. What these
dots meant none knew better than
Bill Mitchell. To him thev were
magic words that were to reveal the
key to the solution of his -invention
lie watched them, one after aqother,
with feverish anxiety, and took a mi
nute copy of thera as quickly as they
were made, in order to insure himself
against all accident. The sky was in
visible to him; the oppressive atmos
phere was not felt by the frenzied
man; the clouds floated by unobserv
ed. Sheet after sheet of dots was
transcribed, and still the man worked
on in haste. The distant rumble of
thunder did not move him, and a viv
id flash of lightning was likewise un
heeded. The wind suddenly ceased
blowing, and a terrible calm rested
over the earth. It was one of those
dreaded lulls before the storm.
The balloon \yas now floating in a
dense rain cloud, and the sudden
darkness that fell over the balloon
finally attracted the scientist from his
work. Jle looked up and saw his
peril. But he did not realize the ex
tent of it until several minutes after
ward. A streak of lightning shot
through the great mass of clouda,and
cut its zigzag course through the air
close to the balloon. The instrument
had attracted it, and the next mo
ment the electricity was playing with
the wheels in a dangerous manner.
The glare and flash of the fluid blind
ed the man, and paralysed him with
fear. Prom instrument to instrument
the electric fluid leaped, sending forth
minature crashes of thunder as it did
so. The whole car was as bright as
if lighted by an electric lamp, and it
appeared like a moving ball of fire.
The inventor was unable to behold
the dazzling spectacle, and he cover
ed his eyes over with his coat. A
strange sensation rendered his limbs
powerless, and his mind became near-
BUTLER. PA.. FRIDAY, APRIL 8, 1887
i. 1, r a blank. Still tie electricity pl»y
jed with the instruments, and kept
J them clattering in a warning man-
Finally the terror-stricken aeronaut
opened his eyes for a moment, and
glanced wildly about him. The dense
clouds were almost impenetrable, and
from bis brilliantly lighted car they
appeared as black as night. The
heavy thunder was rolliug above, be
low, and on all sides of thd balloon,
making the very air tremble with its
loud reverberations. But high above
his hea l an awful sight met bis gaze.
The eleotric fluid had set the fine silk
beg on fire, and the long flames were
leaping up the silken ropes like so
many demons. In another moment
| the terrible explosion would oc
cur.
There was a brief moment of awful
stillness. The storm seemed to abate
suddenly to await the coming event.
Even the wind stopped its fearful on
ward flight, and gave the balloon a
chance to right itself before it was
torn to pieces by the exploding gas.
The lull in the storm gave it a chance
to descend, and, quickly answering to
the foice of gravitation, the enormous
mass of silk sank rapidly, while the
bright flame of tire leaped higher.
Mitchell became nearly unconscious
under the terrible strain, and be felt a
dizzy, unaccountable sensation steal
ing over his frame. Then a terrible
jar seemed to shake him; he felt a se
vere pain in his head, and sank into
unconsciousness.
It was mid day when the unfortun
ate aeronaut again opened his eyes,
and the hot rays of the sun were beat
ing mercilessly down upon his hatless
head. As his senses gradually re
turned to him he stared intently about
him. The blue vault of heaven sur
rounded him on every side, aud as
far away as he could see the same un
changing view greeted his staring
eyes. Not a cloud was visible, nor
any signs of a storm. He raised
himself ou his elbow, and immediate
ly sank back with a groan. A terri
ble gash ran across his left cheek,
from which tHe blood was trickling
freely. His left arm was severely
wreuched in its socket, and one hand
badly cut. He lay upon his back for
a moment, and tried to remember
what had happened to him. The ter
rible scene in the thunder-cloud then
rushed across his mind again, and he
shuddered with horror.
It was with difficulty that he turn
s«] his head to one side aud surveyed
bis surroundings, He was resting
upon a narrow surface of rocks, which
could not be over twenty square feet
in area at the utmost. Beyond the
edge he could not see, and hi 9 narrow
horizon seemed to fade away gradual
ly into vague obscurity. With ex
cruciating pain he worked his way to
ward the edge of his rocky bed, and.
peered over. An almost perpendicu
lar descent of a thousand feet was
presented to h<s yiew, and the earth
beneath was shut out by a thick cloud
which seemed to rest on the side of
the mountain. lie grew dizzy with
fright at the scene, and rolling him
self back, he uttered a groan of de
spair.
For hours he remained motionless,
staring blankly up at the sky; and
then a calm and gentle sleep stole
over him. The sun sank to rest in
the west, and night once more shut
in the world.
The mdrning brought new life and
strength to the almost dead explorer
and scientist. «He succeeded in bind
ing up his painful wounds, and stop
ped the flow of blood; then he rose
unsteadily to his teet, and crawled to
the other edge of his rocky bed. Here
a different sight met his eyes. The
descent was just as steep as on the
other side, but fifty feet below was a
long even plateau, which appeared to
be the summit of a chain of moun
tains. As far as his vision could ex
tend, nothing but mountains were
visible, topped by this narrow plateau.
But how to reach the secure landing
was a question that t he inventor could
not solve. As far iis h«j could dis
cover, he had been landed on the sum
mit of one of the highest peaks of a
chain of mountains, and was cut off
from escape by the perpendicular des
cent of the sides.
Like a caged animal, he walked
around and around his narrow prison,
surveying the country on every side,
and looking for some means of escape.
The thought of remaining on the
rocky summit until starvation should
come caused his brain to whirl, and
in his desperation he shouted loudly
for help. But his voice was
merely echoed among the moun
tains, and returned to him as is in de
rision. A large bird of flight circled
in the air just above his head, and
seemed to regard the castaway with
furious glances, The fierce inhabi
tant of the mountain summits was
looking for its prey, and it appeared
10 be undecided as to whether it
ahould attack the only human being
that ever approached its home.
Mitchell could not endure the sight
of the ravenous bird, and picking up
a small stone,he hurled it with all bis
might at the large eagle. With a
wild scream the bird circled high
up in the air, but still watched the
man intently with its gleaming eyes
Maddened at this, the wounded man
attempted to tear up a larger stone
fiom the edge of the cliff, when his
attention was attracted by an object
hanging over the sides of the peak
It was the wrecked balloon
The thrill of joy that shot through
the man's soul, as be beheld the half
burnt aerial car hanging by a single
rope withiu his reach, can be better
imagined than described. With ner
vous haste he seized the silken cords
and carefully pulled the wrecked mass
up on the summit of the peak. It
was in a terrible condition. The
flames had either consumed or de
stroyed the silken bag, so that it was
beyong repair, and the costly instru
ments, the work of live years, were
melted into a shapeless mass of bras 3
and steel. The sides of the small car
were nothing but pieces of charred
wood, and the ropes were hopelessly
burnt, and rendered useless. But
even in this condition the scientist
felt his courage roused again at the
discovery, and he eagerly overhauled
the old Mollie Some cheese and
cake were found in s, small locker
which had not been entirely destroy
ed, and these were quickly destroyed
by the huugry man, All lsk of wa
ter was also fished out of the debris,
which was soon placed to the man's
parched lips, and a long deep draught
taken. The happy man shook the
flask at tLe eagle, and cried out deri
sively. The great bird seemed to
comprehend tbe situation, and replied
to the old man's menace by a long,
loud scream.
Although tUe ropes jjad silk bag of
i the balloon were broken aud badly
I burnt, Mitchell felt certain that he
I could construct a rude ladder out of
■ the pieces, long enough to enable him
'to reach the plateau below. As soon
us he had satisfied his huuger aud
thirst, he becran to rip and tear up the
old balloon in the most economical
manner, and to fasten the pieces to
gether by strong knots. The larger
| ropes were untwisted, and made into
1 single strauds. The bag was cut in
strips, and then twisted together in
i a strong train until he had a rope
| nearly fifty feet in length. This he
threw over the side of the peak, aud
tried to touch the plateau with the
lower end of it, but found that it did
not come within ten feet of it. His
coat was then taken off, and convert
ed into a rag rope in the same way.
This enabled him to come within
jumping distance of the landing.
The upper end of the queer rope
was then secured to a jutting rock
which hung over thejedge of the prec
ipice. His provisions were buckled
closely around his waist, and with a
shudder the scientist threw himself
| off into space. The long rope sway
|ed under his heavy weight, aud
; threatened to part at every move.
But with admirable coolness the sci
! entist lo\tered himself down gradual
ly, step bv step, until the rocks were
within twenty feet of his body. The
eagle, that had meanwhile remained
ou the summit of the mountains, now
began to fly close to the man's head,
threatening to attack him. But the
undaunted man fought desperately
with his enemy, and frightened it off
with his feet. The bird, finding it
i self robbed of its prey, screamed
| louder than ever, and disappeared
around the adjoining peak. When
the scientist finally kt go his |hold,
he dropped safely upon the plateau,
and, after recovering himself, he
started off on a quick walk to descend
the mountains.
For two days he wandered about
the mountain wilds, trying to reach
level ground, and find the habitation
of man. On the third day his efforts
were rewarded; and, worn out with
his toil and privations, he gladly ac
cepted the hospitality of a farmer, who
offered him bed and lodgings until he
recovered his health and strength
The idea of renewing his experiment
among the clouds never recurred to
his mind again without causing a
shudder of fear.
"My instruments are on yonder
peak," he was in the habit of saying
-to his friends; and there also perished
my wild schemes and inventions."
GEORGE E, WALSH.
Farmer Wade Encounters a
Liar.
Farmer Wade, of the Missouri del
egation, went into an F street shoe
store, and in his cheerful Ozark
mountain way, told the dapper young
clerk tha* he had "come to be shod,"
It wasn't long until the Congress
man and the clerk were on sociable
terms,
"Now, here," said the latter, as he
slipped on a No. 9,'' is a pair of shoes
we made to order for Dr. Smith, of
Washington. You've heard of him.—
They didn't quite fit aad he wouldn't
take 'em. I'll sell 'em to you at the
cost of ready-made shots, and they're
a bargain."
Farmer Wade tried the doctor's
shoes on and then tried on two or
three more pairs, and between times
be chattered with the clerk until the
latter became so interested in Greene
county folks that he forgot about bus
iness. Suddenly remembering that
he had not yet made a trade, the
clerk picked up a pair of number
B'B.
"Now, here," said he glibly, as he
slid the shoe over Farmer Wade's
good yarn sock, "is a pair of shoes we
made to order for Dr. Smith, of
Washington. You've heard of
him—"
"Hold on there," shouted Farmer
Wade, indignantly," what do you take
me for, a sucker ? This Dr. Smith
of yours must be darned hard to
pleage."
The clerk stammered an apology,
and Farmer Wade, having had his
wrath greatly mollified, proceeded to
improve the opportunity for a moral
lesson.
"Young man," said he,in his most
serious Sunday school manner, "did
you ever bear of Annanias?"
"No," was the reply, "I never did.
Who was he? Did he live in Mis
j souri?"
When Farmer Wade came down to
the Willard a short time after the
shoe store episode, he told Col. Hale
confidentially that "the dogonedest
liar he ever met lived right here in
Washington."
A Gray-Headed Old Sinner.
Sometimes an exhorter's zeal gets
the better of his or her judgment, as
at Connellsville the other evening,
when, during the progress of one of
Miss Sherman's meetings at the
Methodist Episcopal Church the fe
male evangelist, in the course of an
impassioned plea for the sinners to
come forward and be saved, pointed
her finger at an old gray-haired gen
tleman of modest demeanor, who sat
half-way back, leaning his head upon
his hand and listening attentively,
and cried out: "There's an old, gray
headed sinner back there. Why
don't be come up?" Bat the "old
sinner" never budged. The next
day, when Miss Sherman took din
ner with Pastor Maushell, the latter
introduced his father, who was grown
gray preaching Methodism to the
people of Western Pennsylvania. The
recognition wasn't mutual until Man
sell explained to Miss Sherman that
his fatter was the same "grey-head
ed old sinner" who wouldn't come to
the front. Apologies were then in
order.
Base-ball Umpires.
A sad eyed nAn stood on the safe
side of a fence watching a vicious
equine trying to kick a wagon to
pieces.
"I wonder what club he's going to
play with next season," soliloquiz
ed the sad eyed man, in audible
tones.
"Shake!" exclaimed a bystander,
thrusting out his hand. "I'm a base
ball umpire myself."
—A challenge—The proprietors of
Dr Bull's Cough Syrup hereby chal
lenge the Faculty to prescribe a rem
edy mt.re effective than theirs.
I cordially recommend Salvation
Oil to all suffering with rheumatism
Jos. S. FOX. Cattle Ilealer, 117 N.
Uroadway, Baltimere, Md.
—Letters of Credit—l. O. U. A.
V.
THE OLD LOG CABIN.
The Cradle of a Synod.
BV REV. P. LUTHER B'»TH.
| From Pittsburg Workman of March i.
There is something pathetic in tha
pulling down of an old house. It
marks the end of an era. It ring*
down the curtain on the labors and
| history of its builders, in so far as
j they stand with it connected. It re
; calls the past, and teaches that the
: works of men's hands are fleeting and
j evanescent. Passing away, passing
away, floating out of eight down the
| stream of time, with never a check in
its ceaseless flow, go we with our
1 works, following the generations gone
before.
Out here this balmy spring morn
iug, March the 7th, in this year of
grace, one thousand eight hundred
and eighty seven, our ears are smit
j ten with the noise and our eyes befog
| ged with the dust arising from the
i demotion of an old building across
the way. Our curiosity leads us to
go over and make inquiry concerning
the disturbance. Come with us, gen
tle reader, and we shall see—what?
What we shall see.
Here we take our position to watch
for developments. The workmen
have a heavy chain around a huge
round log. Look out! The, horse is
bending to his work. The chain
draws tense, the old beam leaves its
position with a groaning and creaking
and a final crash. Step aside there.
It is coming where you stand. Over
it rolls, and out to its destination with
the others, piled in disorderly order
by the wayside.
Au old white oak, with the bark on,
it is, with notches at intervals, cut to
receive the flooringjoists. llow long
is it?' Step it. Twenty seven feet.
Here's a carpenter s rule. Measure it.
Twenty-four ft»et. That is correct.
And the shorter ones, which compose
the ends of the building, by the same
rule, sixteen Builded after the man
ner of the fathers, eight foot story be
low, and alow half-story above. The
logs were raised, each, excepting the
ground-sills, hewed with the axe
on two sides, the other sides on.
Heavy beams, everyone of them, with
a circumference out of which might
be taken from twelve to eighteen
inches of square timber. One low
door, with a companion window of
eight little panes of glass, eight inches
by ten, and above them, in the half
story,-two other little windows, with
half as many little panes, are. all the
visible openings. A most jowly
house indeed is this that is being re
moved from the face of the earth.
Aud the yellow dust that flies and
fills the airs, and the short, thick bill
ets of wood lying promiscuously aud
so plentifully about, these were the
mud and sticks with which the inter
spaces of the logs were filled in this
humble edifice.
Has it a history? Certainly. Ev
ery house has a history. That one
put up but yesterday and standing
there to-day in all the glare and glory
of red paint and yellow, and shining
with painful newness, .has a history
of the hopes and fears and purposes
which went into its erection. And
this one lying here, cast down and
dismembered, hoary with the marks
of the storms and sunshine of many
years upon it, all bowed down, de
crepit, and tottering with old age, as
it was before the final act began, has
its history. Certainly.
What is it? This old log cabin
was the first jail erected in the county
of Butler, state of Pennsylvania. It
was built under contract with the
commissioners by John Negley, one
of the earliest and most respected cit
izens of the town, shortly after the
erection of the county of Butler by
the act of Legislature, passed March
12, 1800. When it was built, about
the year 180"), it stood in the midst of
hazel bushes, among which the timid
rabbits scampered, and the wary
pheasants nested. The face of nature
had a different cast then from that
which it has now put on; it was wild,
rugged and severe; but, like the peo
ple of that time, honest, strong and
true. The criminals haled by the
strong arm of the law into the jail
were not the polished, astute, and"
cold-blooded scoundrels of the present
era; they were rough characters who,
under the influence of the power of
evil and too much whiskey on a gen
eral muster-day, knocked out a neigh
bor, assaulted and t battered some fel
low from another township, or rav
aged the wagon of the man who sold
gingerbread and beer- Or they may
have stolen something, or gone across
the division line, as was shown and
demonstrated in the trial "with mal
ice prepense," and cut the paw-logs
and rail timber on their neighbors'
tract. Or they may have been en
gaged in counterfeiting the coin of the
commonwealth, or have run off a
horse. They did wicked things in
those "good old days," but they were
not such accursed, malicious crimes
as caused men to blush for the human
name they bear and cry to heaven for
vengeance, as are committed now.
Dragged, vi et armis, into the
goal such prisoners came and remain
ed for trial. But as the population
increased crime increased. The little
jail became too small, too weak and
insecure to hold its unwilling tenants,
and a new one was built. Then John
McCulloch, in a peaceful way and for
fair compensation, paid into the coun
ty treasury, acquired possession, built
an addition to the original structure,
and domiciled his family therein. He
made crocks, and pots, and kettles,
and pans of clay and carried on in all
its branches the business of a potter.
The town grew apace. The new
Court House of 1807 had given wav
to the one of 1853, and a change was
passing over the surroundings so that
the old log jail-pottery scarcely knew
itself.
But, most strange of all the won
ders which had passed over the old
building, was that in tbe autumn of
1842, when a pale young man, slen
der of build and with an austere coun
tenance, came to take up his dwell
ing within its narrow walls. That
was the Rev. Gottlieb Bassler, who
before bis death became the first Pres
ident of the General Council! " Up
stairs, or rather it should lie written
up the ladder, for the approach to the
little half-story under the rafters and
clapboards was made by a ladder con
structed of the two sides of a split
white-oak pole, joined with round
rungs in lieu of steps, he brought his
little store of books, bis papers and
pen and inkstand, a table, chair and
cot-bed, and there he made his study.
It was like the cejl of an anchorite.
He could scarcely stand straight in it.
It was absolutely without comfort, as
much as though it bad been designed
and built for discomfort; a place con-
structed with a view to making
occupants do penance - a penitentiary
—hot iu summer and bleai and cheer
less in winter, Coming into that
rude, comfortless cloister with bis
frail body already broken down by a
long college course, in which he
boarded himself that he make
no debts, the wonder -is that he sur
vived. Hut he did There is some-
thin* in a log cabin in a new couutry
that is an elixir of health. A man
can live and grow fat there, whom to
put on dainty diet in a mansion it
would be sure to kill And not only
did he live, but he 11 urished.
The German church of the town
calied for English services, and he
had come in answer to the call. He
was l& close companion, brother and
friend to the ltev Bishop Schweitz-r
--bartb.of blessed memory. And on a
footingof perfect equality with the
German Lutheran church in doctrine
and practice, the English Lutheran
church of the town was organized by
him on the IGth of January, 1843.
The preliminary meetings jjto this
event were beld in the front room
of the building—which served as the
living room of the family There also
the Church Council held its meetings
for some time afterwards, until a little
chapel was erected by tha congrega
tion.
But another event of more general
interest is connected with this old jail
cabin. This was a conference of a
few Lutheran, ministers residiug iu
Western Pennsylvania in the autumn
of 1844, who met in this front room.
The number with Rev. Mr. Bassler
was but five or six and the object of
the meeting wua to consult in what
way the best interests of the Church
could te advanced, either by unitiug
with some existing Synod or organiz
ing a new one. Much of the time
was spent in prayer to God for the
guidauce of the Holy Spirit, and as a
result the conviction was strengthen
ed that for effective Church work a
Synod was indispensably necessary
which would especially look after the
interests of our scattered people and
vacant churches iu the western coun
ties of the State. Of the ministers
who attended this preliminary con
ference only one survives—the editor
of the Work man. The minutes of
this liftle informal meeting are happi
ly preserved and were printed with
those of the convention iu Pittsburg
in the winter of 1845, and the first
convention in Sbippenville io June of
the same year.
Looking back to the humble begin
ning in that old log cabin, now in
ruins before me, I cannot but think of
the growth of the Synod which had
so humble an origin, and of the work
which is yet before it. Its statistics
are 94 ministers, 82 pastoral charges,
185 congregations, 17,598 communi
cants, and contributions (iu 1880) to
different charities amounting to $37,-
000. A college likewise has grown
up within its bounds, and from the
same territory has gone forth Chris
tian successful efforts -to form other
Synods, and merciful influences which
have resulted in the establishment of
homes for the fatherless aud hospitals
for the suffering in distant places of
our land. Far be it from us to refer
to this in the way of boasting, for the
blessing of God has crowned the work
of his servants wi:h success. But
when we look back a little over fyrty
years and see how all this has grown
up in the line of uatural sequence from
that preliminary meeting in the front
room of that old log-jail, we are filled
with gratitude to God, whose ways
are wonderful and past finding out.
Brethren and dear readers, we of
the present day are standing veiy
near tbe beginning of the history of
our country. The old primitive log
buildings still are Btauding metaphor
ically as well as literally, ahd we
must remember when we see them
that much land is yet before us to be
possessed. We iuu4 know of a cer
tainty that there are forests to cut
down, stones to dig out, swamps to
drain, and hard work to do now, and
in the future as in the pa3t, in the
fields of the Church here ia America,
and be ready to enter like the fathers
did in hope, and faith, aud courage to
do the work. And cursed be the idler
and dawdler and the drone who under
such circumstances will consume th&
substance of the Church so bitterly
needed in so many places.
But what a rate this goes and
grows at. The old house is gone.
Farewell, farewell! Alas, too soon
we shall have to bid farewell to those
who have rendered its very logs and
sticks sacred by their holy endeavors.
liutler, Pa.
A Cure For Cancer
A new cure for that dread disease
cancer is detailed in the Cincinnati
Commercial-Gazelle, which was acci
dently discovered by an old woman
in Wales and which is so simple as
to recommend its trial to all who are
suffering. The remedy is simply
what is known in this vicinity as
sheep sorrel or sheep sour and the
method of application is to wrap the
leaves in brown paper tightly to as to
be impervious to air and then cover
the package with hot ashes under the
grate. It is cooked aud applied to
the cancerous ulcer as hot as possible,
the leaves come in direct contact with
the ulcer, held in place by a bandage.
The effect is to loosen the tumor
which finally comes out. The
remedy has much in its favor over a
surgical operation,
An Imperative Necessity.
What pare air is to an unhealthy
locality, what spring house-cleaning
is to neat house-keeper, so is Hood's
Sarsaparilla to everybody at this sea
son. The body needs to be thorough
ly renovated, the blood and
vitalized, the germs de
stroyed. Scrofula, SalfKheum.and all
other ulood disorders are cured by
Hood's SaaAparilla, the most popu
lar spring medicine.
—Sow your tomato seeds in boxes
as early as possible, as there is now
but little time to lose with early
plants.
—I)o not bring the b< e hives from
the cellar too early, as a few cold
nights may be injurious. Keep the
hives in a cool place.
—ln using carbolic acid as an in
secticide 1 part of the acid to 100
parts water is the correct {proportion.
It may be freely sprinkled on all
kinds of plants.
—Thousands of ladies cherish
grateful remembrances of the help de
rived from the use of Lydia E. Pink
hams Vegetable Compound.
—The Czar of Russia would be a
happier man as the agent of some
durable clothes-wringor.
A Squaw's Slave.
I A stranger will not be long it the
quiet village of Sandy Hill, Washing
ton couuty, X. V., before some accom
modating citizen will recall for his
e itertahmentgthe pet local reminis
cence of Sy bract Quackenboos's terri
ble ordt-al and strange experiences
duriug the French and Indian war.
As there is not in the whole ; historr
of the American colonies a recorded
incident of the trials and sufferings
of the inhabitants possessing a more
peculiar interest than this unrecorded
incident so dear to Washington coun
! ty, no stranger ever yet regarded his
time as wasted who listened to its
recital. It was told to the writer on
a recent visit to Sandy Hill, and runs
j as follows:
Svbrant was the son
i of one of Albany's early Dutch resi
' dents, and was born in that city. In
. 1750, on the day he was to marry a
j young lady of Albany, he was im
! peessed into the colonial service as
teamster, and was put in charge of a
load of provisions, which was to be
| sent to Fort William Henry from Al
j bany. Lieutenant McGinniss of the
j colonial army, with a number of New
Hampshire militia, accompanied Sy
| b?ait as escort. While passing
| through the then unbroken forest at
! the great bend of the Hudson, near
| the present village of Sandy Hill, they
were attacked by a band of indians,
j said to be under the command of the
notorious and fiendish Marin. The
little party of colonists, taken in am
bush, were soon overpowered. Three
of tbem were killed. The others
were made prisoners. The captives
were securely bound with thongs and
taken to au Indian camp. The vil
lage green in Sandy Hill now occu
pies the site of that camp.* The pris
oners were seated in a row on the
trunk of a fallen pine tree.
A pow-wow was beld by the Indi
ans which resulted in the savages
forming a circle around the unfortu- •
nate whites. A stalwart brave step
ped from the circle, and, starting at
the head of the row of prisoners, sank
his tomahawk in their brains, one af
ter another, until none remained but
L : cut. McGinnissjand Sybrant Quack
euboss. They sat side by side at the
foot of the row. None of the nine
prisouers who had fallen dead be
neath the savage blow of the Indian
had offered any resistance, and when
he raised his tomahawk above the
head of Lieutenant McGinniss, the
latter threw himself backward from
the log, at the same time planting bis
feet in the stomach of the execution
er, aud sent him flying several feet
away. Although this sudden and un
expected movement on the part of
the lieutenant disabled the red butch
er, it only made his.own.end the more
horrible, for as he lay bound upon
the ground a dozen Indians sprang
upon him and chopped him to pieces.
Quackenboss, who bad sat a help
less and horrified victim to the butch
ery of his comrades, now closed his
eyes to receive his death blow from
the tomahawks that were held over
his head by the now infuriated In
dians, but before one of them fell ho
was knocked from the log by some
thing heavy falling against bim, and
opening his eyes he saw the hideous
face of a squaw, who interposed be
tween him and the poised weapon. It
was a repetition of the Pocahontas
episode, but lacking every element of
its romance, for the squaw, being
dirty and fiendish in appearance, had
interfered in his behalf simply because
she wanted him spared to become her
dog, or beast of burden. After much
parleying the squaw's request was
granted, and Sybrant was banded
over to ber, a fate, as he afterward re
marked, that he thought bat little
better than that of bis comrades.
The Indians soon afterward broke
camp aud took the trail. Quacken;
boss was laden with the burden of the
band which would have fallen to the
lot of the squaw whose foresight had
stood her in such good need, while
she walked by his side, goading him
with a spear whenever he faltered,
and showing him no mercy. They
reached the shores of Lake Cham
plain, where they embarked in canoes.
At the foot of the lake there was an
Indian village, and there Sybrant was
compelled to run the gauntlet, ne
was nearly killed by the clubs of the
two lines of Indians, and was again
placed in possession of the squaw.
She doctored his wounds until he was
entirely well. The Indians went to
Canada, where they were bound to
report the possession of their prisoner
to the authorities. -The governor of
Canada took an interest in Quacken
boss, purchased him from bis Indian
mistress, and took him to Montreal.
He was kept in tbe domestic service
of the governor for three years, when
the latter gave him permission to send
word to bis parents that he was alive
but to have the message delivered
\vas a difficult matter. It was finally
decided to send an Indian to carry a
letter addressed to Quackenboss's
father, as near Fort Edward as he
dare approach, and to then place it in
a split stick and set the stick in a spot
where coming from the
fort would be'likely to see it. This
was done, The letter was found and
forwarded to its addrees, as the son
learned w hen he got his liberty three
years later and returned to Albany.
Although bis affianced had long
mourned him as one dead, she had re
mained faithful to bim, and tbe wed
ding ceremonies so suddenly inter
rupted six years before were perform
ed amid great rejoicing. Quacken
bosssoon afterward removed to Wash
ington county, where he died in 1820,
aged 95 years. His grave is neglect
ed, and a movement to erect a suit
able monument to his memory, which
was started a few years ago, seems
to meet with little response from the
people who love to tell hie story.
—lf angels' visits were as expen
sive as those of doctors' we should be
glad that that they are so few and far
between.
—Xhe five mummies found in a
Dakota cave last week belonged to
one of the first families.
—Kate Sanborn says "there is too
much of everything in this world."
That is so, but the great difficulty is
get hold of it.
—We are told that the Spaniards
prefer boardiog-housea to hotels, be
cause the former offer them more ex
citing bull fights when they attack
the steaks.
—lt matters not the age 0* suffer
ers from colds, coughs, or croup, "Dr.
Seller's Cough Syrup" is good for all
alike. Price 25 cents.
—The eminent John L. Sullivan iff
writing a book. There is room to be--
lieve that it will be a great hit.
NO. 2\