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