VOL XXV. The Greatest Spring Stock IH BOOTS, SHOSB and SLIPPERS BUTLER HAS SVKR SEEN, NOW OPENINGS AT HUSELTON'S All lresh clean new spring styles did buy out any one? old Stock, neither do we advertise amounts in jroods bought thinking it .sounds big, tricky drives, no deceitful leaders, no tempting baits, no auc tion good* or old sample lots, but uniformly low prices on every article and same price to all. One element in our spring Stock ot Shoes speaks to you with special force, the beauty of the Styles, the ex cellence of the Stock and workmanship, as to prices you can't tell what Shoes are by reading prices you must see the goods especially when unscrupulous dealers will ad vertise for instance: Ladies' fine Kid Button Shoes worth $1.70 selling for $1.00; Mens' tine Shoes worth 2.00 selling at SI.OO, this is an old jew trick in trade that has been discounted long ago, people don't take any stock in such trickery. Ladies' fine shoes unusually large selection especially in hand turns, they are glove fitting, very soft and easy to the foot, our $2.50 turn French Kid Vamp boot is a beauty can t be matched in the couuty, cheaper turns we t use as they are worthless, then the finer grades at $3.00 3.00 to 4.00 in all widths both in common sense and Opera lasts, our Kid Button at $1.20. 1.00, 1.(0, 2*oo and 3.00, McKay sewed Hexihle soles are daisies,no sheepskin genuine Kid, the 1.00 boot is selling as last as we get them in, warrant every pair, they are stylish, as good as other dealers sell at 2.00. See our bright Dongola very fine stock, is tough, will not scuff in wearing like some Kid does. Ladies Grain Button boots the best you ever saw at 1:00 and 1.20. Pebble Goat 1:00, 1:70, and 2:00 Ladies' fine shoes with Patton leather tip, now very stylish for street wear *2 up to $3. Old Ladies' wide easy shoes in Bils and Coug. up to No. 8, Slippers, in Opera 50 ceutP, be?t in the land for the price. Lawn Tennis Shoes in Mens' Womens'and Childretis'. Wigwam Slipprs, verv easy and comfortable, cheap, our full line fine Slippers is not in yet, is"a little early, will tell you about ttem later on. Misses' and fine Shoes in Spring heel and heel, in Kid Goat and St. Goat, high tops, Misses' Kid SI.OO and upwards, li Childrens 50 cents up,extra fine Shoes for Ladies that wear Email sizes 1 to 2,Shoes for Baby's 25 cents and op. „ Mens' fine shoes very fine style $1 00, 1.25, 1 50 to $2 00. extra tine Calf Shoes $2 00 to :t.75. Kangaroo, one of the most popular Shoes of the day in McKay Day eewed and Himd sewed in an endless variety of styles and prices. All those in Button Bals. or Cong, all widths tip narrow toe or full plain toe, we show the best and fiuest shoe at $1.25, 1.50, 2 00, 2 ;>0 3 00 in Butier. Boys' and Youths' in Calf, Veal. Calf-grain in regular and extra high tops, new goods , seamless at slsoto 200 and 2 25. Plow shoes. Bals, and Cong. Boys Button 15 1 25. Mens' Plow Shoe?, lace and Brogans Hob Nailed at 90 to $1 50. Calf Boots slllO to $:5 00 Leather and Findings, large stock We do all kinds repairing, we use the best liue6 in tbe market in Boots & Shoes, we have positive proof ot this in their excellent wearing qualities,and still better some of our little competitors bare lately been making every effert to get seme line of Shoes and have •o far failed. We control all the lines we use for this town. Come and see as, will save yon money. No trouble to show our goods. B. C. HUSELTON JACOB BOOS, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, FLOUR, FEED, HAY AND ALL KINDS OF GRAIN. We are now in our new store-room on S. Main St.. and I have the room to accommodate our large stock of groceries, flour, etc., and have built a large ware house to accommodate our stock of feed. We pa\- the highest cash price for potatoes and all kinds of COUNTRY PRODUCE, JaCQI) BOOS, 105 But A lar. S pa EET ' "Nothing Succeeds Like Success!" WHY V B3CAU3E LOOK at cur SUCCESS in BUTLER Then Look 13<ick 3o \ C£trs Ago When Wc Commenced. Now Look at the Way We Do Our Business, THEN REASON HOW CAN it be OTHERWISE ? WHEN WE CARRY THE STOCK WE DO =TI LARCEST= And Most Complete in Butler, ranging in Quality and price from the Cheapest to the Finest, all Reliable, Well Made Goods, besides we Guarantee all we sell Call and be Convinced. H. SCHNEIDEMAN, Ho. 4, Main St. OLD RELIABLE CLOTHIER # THIS SPACE IS RESERVED FOR E. GRIEB, The Jeweler, No. 19, North Main St., BUTLER, PA., Whose advertisement will appear next week. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. NEW MILLINERY I At Lowest Cash Prices. j Miss M. H.Gilkey's SUM'k of Spring anil Summer Mllilnery and Ladles' (loods is now complete, containing all the new varieties In HATS, BONNETS, FLOWERS and LACES, Shaded and Mixed, Tips and Plumes, Gauze*. VeUlngs. Fancy Ribbons and Velvets. Pins, etc. Embroidery. Silks and Zephyrs. I- lue HankercUlefs. Collars, cutis, Kuchlngs, loilet l'owders. "Leila Pith," "Sybil's Secret," Corsets. Rustles. Dress Linings. Trimming and 1 Ore's" and Cloak Making- and Kitting Done. Satisfaction Guaranteed. List of Goods. Millinery, both Trimmed and T'ntrlmmed In all 'the LII'W Colors and Materials. Flowers. Tips and Ribbons. Silks, etc., Hosiery and Gloves, Black, While A Colored Laces Veilings, Collars. Cuffs. lurching and all tbe newest Neckwear, silk ivnd Cambric Handkerchiefs. Corsets. Shoulder-Braces, and Fatty Sklr,- Hands. Toller Powders,"f.ella I'ith" and ''Sybils Secret.'' We make fc specialty of Old Ladies' Bonnets and Caps. AND MOIHMXG <i«O»S. Childrens' I-ace. Shirred Mull. Silk' and Cash - mere Caps, and Fancy Headwear of all kinds. We deal in HAIR GOODS, Of .All Kinds, IncludlM: Switches at all pric-es. Bangs and Frizzles In all Styles. Kid Gloves Cleaned and Ostrich Plumes Colored and Curled. AT NEW BUILDING AND STORE-ROOM. No- 62, South Main Street, BUTIiER, PA LOOK! READ! X have enlarged my store-room. In fact, made It. almost twice as lanje as It was before, and have also Increased my stock. 1 have, by far, the largest a Lid best selected .-stock of Fine Drugs and Chemicals In Butler county, and am now in position to supply th<* wants of the people oi this county— even better than in the past, Vou wil! do well to cull on me when in the nee »oi auytlilng In the line of Fine Drugs and Medicines. Mv stock is very complete and PRICES VERY I,o\V In medicine quality Is or tbe nrsi Impor tance. so we HIVO particular attention to rilling Prescriptions. our Dlsjienslntr l)epartni"nt. is complete. \> e dispense only Pure Drugs of the Finest Quality, and our patrons may bring us their prescrip tions, feeling certain that the} will be carefully and accurately filled. Thanking the public for the very generous patron UK 1 ' they have accorded me4n the past, I hope to be able to serve thorn more acceptably In the future, at the old stand. No. f>, North Main St., BUTLER, PA. J. C. EEDICK, |Hopßaßler3r| A peculiar and successful combination of Koothlug, Ntrengtheiiing and I'uln-K.lll iii if agents —fresh bops, hemlock gum and pine balsam. I ain, soreness or weakness in the back, side, kidneys, chest, shoulder, neck, limbs or muscles are all Instantly re lieved and curod. Warranted _________ the pli*«ter known,— sweet, reliable, infallible. Sold UK* A everywhere. 26c., five for sl. TA Mailed for price. HOP PLASTER . . .y CO., Proprietors, Boston. rA I H« PROFESSIONAL CARDS. G. M. ZIMMERMAN, PHYSICIAN AND SL'fIOKON. Office at No. 4.%. 8. Main street, over Frank K Cos 1)1 U>{ store, hutli-r. Pa. J. F. BUITTAIN, Att'y at f.aw—Office at S. K. Cor. Main St, and Diamond, Butler, Pa. NEWTON BLACK Att'.v at I.aw—Ofllce on South side of Diamond, Butier, Pa. IKA Mf'JUNMN. Attorney at JAW. Office at No. 17, East Jelfer sou St.. Butler, I'a. Dr. N. M. Hoover, Otflce over Boyd's Drug Store, DfAMo.sn BLOCK, ... BUTI.EB, PA. W. R. TITZEL, PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. N. E. Corner Main and Wayne His. _BTJ TLER DPIEISI IsP A. Dr. S. A. JOHNSTON, DENTIST, - - BUTLER, PA. All work pertaining t/> the profession execut ed HI the neatest maimer. Specialties : -Cold Killings, and Painless Ex traction of Teeth, Vitalized Air administered. Oilier ou JpfTernon Street, one iloor K»(t of Lowrj HOUAP, Up Stiiirn. Office open daily, except Wednesdays and Thursdays. Communications by mail receive prompt attention. N. B.—The only Dentist in Dutler using the I test makes of teeth. JOHN E. BYERS, PHYSICIAN AN " SURGEON Office No. 65 Smith Main Street, BUTLER, - PA. SAMUEL M. BIPPUS, Physician and Burgeon, No. 10 West Cunningham St., BUTLER, ■DEHSrTISTiR, X. . 0 1/ WAI.DRON. (iraduate of the Phila • l\. delplila :>enta! rollene. Is prepared to do auytliltiK hi the line of his profession In a satisfactory manner. office on Main street, Butler, opposite the Vogeley House. J. S. LUSK, M.D., Has removed from Harmony to Hutler and has his office at No. 9, Main St., three doors below Lowi-y House. apr-30-tf. L. S. McJUNIKIN, Insurance and Real Estate Ag't. 17 EAST JEFFERSON ST. BUTLER, - PA. C. F. L. McQUISTION, ENGINEER AND SURVEYOR, OFFICE ON DIAMOND, BCTI.KK. PA. AGENTS WANTED! TO CANVASS FOR ONC OF THE I.ABOKBT, OLDEST K.STAIII.ISHKD. BEST KNOWS NUIt- SKRIKs In the country. Most liberal terms, t'nequaled faculties. oIiNKVA MUSEItY. KM tabllshed 18M. W. * T. SMITH, UEJEVA, *. T. At Sunset Time. The painted shadows tail From the church windows tall; Its pictured saints look down, Upon the quaint old town, At sunset time No tramp of horses' feet Disturbs the quiet street: The distant hill-tops seem Wrapt in a halcyon dream, At sunset time. A bird flits to and fro, Above the branches low, And sings in monotone Of joys forever flown, At sunset time. Strange shadows, floating, rise, Across the evening skies As daylight wanes apace In this s<questered place, At sunset time. The glowin? tints grow dim. And faintly, like a hymn ITeard through the half-elosed gate, They fade—and it is late, At &un.»et time. Pale watcher! though the night Shall queneh yon rays of light, Know that all sorrows cease, And troubling sinks to peace, At sunset time. We seek tbe fields where bright Stream s run, and lilies white And fadeless roses grow- Where deathless summers glow, At sunset time. There is the perfect rest! In pilgrim's garments drest, We tnaicb, with statfin hand, Straight to the Sunset Laut', At sunset time. —A'eir Orleans Timct-Democrat. The Captain's Grave. How long the day was, and how silent the way. I had ridden miles without a human seeing being. Yet it was a fertile and populous northern country I was passing through. Big, roomy frame houses sat upon shaded hilltops, fair fields answered the sun's warm glances with full crops aud cool groves dotted the landscape hero and there, under whose drooping branch es the lazy kine stood panting. I cutared a bit of cool damp wood, and let my horse move at his laziest pace. I enjoyed the shade, but I felt a sense ol lonelidess and isolation the moment I was within it. Some woods are cheery and refreshing, however thick aud impenetrable. This was moist, silent and gruesome. The sandy Madwas so dump that ray horse's .'eel mude no sound, aud that added to the queer sense of solemnity I felt. 1 pasi-ed down a long, gently sloping hill iuto a still tuoie giociny hollow. Under a rude little bridge a struggling stream of surface water slowly meandered with a melancho ly sound, seeking the tar off sea The hill on the other side of tbe bridge was steeper than the one 1 had just aenceaded. The top stretch ed out into a broad table land, nearly half a mile in length towards the north, though it shelved off west of the road about twenty yards into a diminutive valley. To tbe right, near tbe road, stood a disused, dilapi dated Quaker meeting house. Whun I saw it, I instantly uuderstood the impreßsivti loneliness of tho wood. No places are so full of mysteriously sad influences as those wherein men and women buve dwelt or met aud then abandoned. The loneliest moun tain side is not so louesotne as a des erted house, though it stauds in sight of cheery homes. lam half afraid of ghosts iu such places—not weird aud chilling shapes exactly, but ghosts of ihe tiopes, joys, sorrows and sins which were there born aud there died This rude old meeting hou.se, un painted, decaying aud grim as a pri [native law made the gloomy wood still more desolate. An unfrequent ed road crossed another a few yards north of it; trees sighed about it; moss grew upon its rotten roof, and wild grass aud briars clambered about its sunken doorstep. It told a mourn ful story without the aid of words. Tbe plainly habited, bouest peoplo who met beneath its roU in the past bad vanished from the earth, and their descendants were scattered or departed from the faith of their fath ers and belouged to the world's peo ple. ] stopped to look at it held by a sad fascination: A shrill whistle interrupted my reverie, and scattered tho ghosts of the silent landscape. Turning to my left I saw a boy climbing a bit of shaky fence. The climbing was a self-imposed task, and was evidently indulged in for the sole purpose of adding interest to the occasion, what ever it was, since an unsteady gate swung open but a few feet further on. He wore an enormous straw hat, gayly decorated with grasses and leaves, and carried in one hand a bit; basket, heaping full of flowers, old fashioned flowers, old time roses, Muy pinks, lilacs, blue bells, snow balls. peonies and honeysuckles. The other hand waved a brilliant half grown flag, and on the end of tbe basket a very small flag had been clumsily sowed. Altogether, this bright eyed infant had a festal appearance in strong con trast to the gloom and silence of the scene. He whistled a bar from the "Star Spangled Banner." emphasiz ing it by waving the flag energetical ly. He seated himself on the top rail of the fence and eyed me with some interest, though preteuding not to see me. His bare, brown feet beat time to tbe measure of the tune. He struck up in a shrill treble: I am a patriot true, sir; Yes, I sin; yes, I am; A patriot firm anil true, sir; Yes, I am; yes, I am! "I don't doubt it in the least." 1 said attempting to be sociable; "in deed you look it every inch." A grimace was his only answer. Still it was a friendly grimace. His dignity would not permit him to make my acquaintance too easily. I must make all the advunces. "Going to a picnic, are you not?" I asked, believing that the best way to open a conversation with him would be to tako aomo interest in bis affairs, though 1 detest that method as applied to myself. "No—a strew," he answered. "A what?" "A Btrew," he replied with a little annoyance in his voice, "a Decoration day strew. Don't you know that this is the day to decorate soldier's graves —the 30tb of May? : ' "I had forgotten it,'' I answered humbly. "But where are there any soldiers'graves? Not here, surely. He turned like a bird on the old fence aud pointed with a flag iuto a mass of brambles. "Not there?" "Yes, there. That's a graveyard BUTLER PA„ FRIDAY. MAY 11.188 S. —the graveyard that belongs to the old meeting house. Everybody that I used to go to meeting there (pointing \ to the oli house) is in there now , (pointing again towards tbe briars and weeds), so there are no more j meetings." I looked at the graveyard with pitying interest. It was nothing but 1 a square patch of brambles and rank, , dark weeds inclosed by a broken and worm-eaten fence aud surrounded by the thick and silent wood. Nothing could be mure isolated from busy I life, more completely forgotten by I the busy world. No, not quite for gotten, for here was the brown-legged boy, with bis flag and bis flowers, his whistle and song. "But soldiers are not buried here?" I said. "One of them is," the boy answered with an accent of pride and an addi tional wave ot his flag "It's his grave that Misses Oilman is going to strew with flowers, though be wasn't any relative of hers at all. He was a captain, and he has a marble headstone, the only one in the whole graveyard. His company put it up. It's getting a little old now, for he's been dead nearly twenty-four years —died 'most fourteen years before I was born." He rattled this off with childlike eagerness, happy in being tbe first to tell a bit of something in teresting to another. "Were you in the war?" he asked. "Yes." "So was my grandfather. I have the picture of a fight he wa3 in. He was killed too." This with a special accent ot pride. It was something to be killed evidently, in his opinion. Riding close to the old fence I look ed over into the neglected place of the dead and saw the edge ol a marble headstone and beside it the dark folds of a woman's gown. "Come in aud see this soldier's grave," said tbe boy glad of a new interest I hesitated. The occasion seemed too sacred for intrusion ot a stranger; but he insisted so warmly that I left my horse and followed him into tbe graveyard. His simple, but not undignified, introduction made an apology to the lady unnecessary. •'Misees Wilson," he said, gallantly taking off bis flower trimmed hat, "this gentleman was in the war, and I've asked him to help put the flow ers on Captain Kathbone's grave. We were on the ground of common sympathy at once. This woman was no longer young, but she was beau tiful with the beauty of a spirit that had long dwelt on calm heights. She was of the past, scarcely seeming to belong to the present at all. Her soft black silk and its laces, and even her face, were of a fashion not new. She was an old school lady with the gentle dignity and majesty of manner that indicate the old school training. ' This is not my son's grave," she said, "but that of hia dearest friend, and I'm the only one left here who knew him or cares to lay a flower on the earth that covers him." I bent to read the inscription on the fast dimming headstone. To the Memory or CAPTAIN WILBUR RATHBONK, A true friend and brave soldier. This stone is raised by Co. G. —th Regt., —Vol. I, which he commanded. The grave had been carefully tend ed. Its rouuded outlines and fresh, closely trimmed sod made of it a green island in a lake of disorder and neglect. The pale old lady knelt down aud bei;an to pick the flowers from tbe basket and reverently lay tbem upon tbe grave. The boy, big eyed and silent, came softy up and planted his flag at its head. "Wilbur Rathbone was my Bon's closest friend," continued the old lady, in a soft, sweet voice. "Tbey were babies together, school mates, com rades and friends. The home of each was as much the other's as his own. They spent almost every hour of the time together for twenty years. Tbey ffrew alike iu looks and manners, though they were totully unlike in character. Even their names resem bled each other. My boy was called Willis. He was rash,impetuous,quick to anger and not easy to control. Wil bur wus brave and geutle, given to quiet ways and of few words. He loved music better than merrymaking, and dogs, horses and birds better than the society of most persons. I fancy I can still hear the piano speak ing under his fingers when I sit child less in an almost empty house. And when the quiet of evening comes I sometimes close my eyes, blot out of my memory a quarter of a century, and hear the music from'his violin float over tho bills His mother and fath er, my good neighbors, lived over tb ire in that house whose chimneys you can just see from hero," and she pointed through a break in the wood. "Tbey are long since dead, aud lie here bv the side of their son. They were not members of the Society of Friends that met in this little house, but their parents bad been, and when tbey died there was, after nil, no spot of ground in which to bury them more sacred than this, though it is so desolate—so very, very desolate. "But tho boys! They were Dever separated until a few months before the war broke out. My son grew restless, and talked of going into the world and doing great things, We held him here, his father aud f, fool ish things that we were, feeling that we could not leave him go; that to go once meant really to go for ever. You know that when birds onco try their wings they never go back to their nest And we bad only one other child, one girl, our Katie. At last the pressure upon his restless spirit rasped his ever quick temper, and he quarreled with his father, aud left in the night without a word." She rose, turned her face away,and stood so long silent thai I thought bhe meant to say no more. Bat she went on presently, stoop ing down and picking up a tiower from the soldier's grave. "Never be fore had 1 a trial like that. Hin father had been stern with him, I knew, but be loved bim, and I loved them both, and now anger raged in their hearts toward each other. One was gone where I could not help bim and the other hugged his wrath at home. "Oh, the agony of those days? One by one they went by without bringing a word from my boy. The hours sat upon my heart like moun tains. The disgrace of it almost killed us. To think that our son— our only son,whom we so loved—bad fled bis home like a thief in the night, and was wandering, wo knew not where, "At last Wilbur came to me oue day, bringing a letter from Willis, which had been sent within one to him. He wrote humbly to me, beg- ging me to forgive his unceremonious departure and assuring me again and of his love, but said not a word of his father. His heart was still full of anger toward him, 1 could see I have that letter yet I have read it a thousand times. It was the last lines I ever had from his hand. "He was in Georgia. Why he went south I do notquite understand. Perhaps it was accident; perhaps it was destiny. Even then there were rumors of war, and in a short time it burst upon the country in all its ter ror. These quiet hills echoed the sounds of the bugle and the drum from morning till night. Down in the town companies were forming and regiments waiting to be ordered toward the front, Wilbur Ratbbone commanded a company, and waited for an order to depart. Before he left the news came one day that our Willis had joined the Confederate army; that he was captain ot a com pany under Longstreet. I tried to doubt that awful story. I would not believe it—l could not. That he had left us in anger was sorrow and dis grace enough; to know that he was in arms againßt his and our country was too great an affliction to be calm ly born. Kis father raved like a mad man,and (orbade us to speak of Willis in his presence. "I saw Wilbur march away with a heart heavier than stone If my boy had only been with him, it seemed to me I could have laughed from joy. But now, those two whose lives had always beeu brotherly companion ship,were in arms against each other. The roll of the drums sounded in my ears day after day and would not die ont, even after every soldier had been sent to the South. I awoke night after night from dreams of battles iu which I saw our Willis wounded and dying. Sometimes I called bis name in my sleep and his father's groans of anguish would wake me. "When the body of Wilbur Rath bone was sent home, I envied bis mother her sorrow, He had died for his country—died for its freedom. I stood dry-eyed by bis grave, loving him as a son.and feeliug that my own sorrow was greater than death. My daughter died a few months later. This affliction we bore unmarmuriug ly; but that other, that unspeakable sorrow, grieved us unceaßinirly, "At last I, too, grew stern and un relenting toward my son. I banish ed him from my thoughts. I drove him from my heart. I had no for giveness for him. And so the years went oo—those awful years of war when the whole country mourned and suffered. At last it was over. Peace came and tbe country bound up its wounds and began tc live again. Nearly a year later we learned that Willis had been killed while fighting at Chickamauga. His father's heart softened then. He wept and mur mured affectionate excuses for him. But I—l felt relieved to know that I should never see his face again. They talk about the deathless tenderness of a mother's heart; but mine had its day of hardness. Always, this thought stung me; I, a patriot, the daughter of patriots, was the mother of a son, who had defiled bis parents and fought against his country. "Three years later my husband died, and I was left alone. He spoke of Willis often in the laßt days of his life. But I was silent. "Not till iong, long afterwards did I find in my heart forgiveness for my erring sou. I realized at last that I hud no right to judge him; that if he erred perhaps I was to blame. I know now that the passions, sorrows aud evils of life become as nothiog in tbe sweep of time. He was buried in tbe trenches of Chickamauga. I cannot lay a flower on his grave, so I come on the day they honor sol diers and lay my tribute ou the earth, that covers Wilbur, his best beloved friend. Somehow I feel that Willis understands and knows that in my heart are flowers of affection for him. They were both dear to me—very dear to me. "Yes, he surely understands. I have long felt that, and have long ceased to grieve. Both my boys are safe—safe and dead. It is well with them. She ceased to speak and Btood with her hand resting on the soldier's headstone, her eyes seeing visions of tbe past, and nothing of tbe present. The boy sat in tbe grass at the foot of tbe grave, with tears dripping down bis brown cheeks. The tale bad touched him, little as he could understand the deep tragedy of it. And I beard agaiu the clash and thunder of war, saw the blazing fires of battle, and felt, ic a rush of memo ry, tho fierce fever of those vanished days of carnage. The boy followed mo out to the roadside. "Do you think." be said, earnestly as I mounted my horße, "do you think there will lie another war here in my time?" "I think not; I hope not," I an swered. He looked disappointed. "I want to fight," he said,eagerly; "for 1 have a sword that was my grandfather's." I rode away from that lonesome spot full of sad thoughts. All con tentions, strife and anger seemed so needless; all suffering so gratuitous. But, thank Ood, peace and rest al ways come at last. The Tune Which Killed the Cow. There was a certain cow wboße death haß iusured her a long literary life. Tbe event is chronicled in verse, which runs somewhat in this style:— There was a man who bought a cow, Aud he had no food to give her, So he took up hia fiddle and played her a tune: "< 'onsider, uiy cow, consider, This it not the time from for grass to grow, Consider, my cow, consider. This is said to have been the famous tune of which the cow died, but long experience has convinced mo that an obvious derivation is seldom tbe cor rect ode, and 1 would rather put for ward another, Among the inspirit ing airs often performed on the mo lodious and richly modulated bagpipe is one known as :'Nathanial Oow's Lament tor bis Brother," and when listening to it I have felt an iuternal conviction that it, and no other, is tbe "tune the old Oow died of," —An organization of New York workingmen proposes to establish a co-operative coai yard, Near Coburg, Oermany, a whole village of people has for muny gener ations made nothing hut toys. —Senator Stanford has given SSOO toward a Gettysburg monument to tho Forty-fourth New York Volun i teera. ANNUAL REPORT Of the Standing Committee on Temperance to the Ppresby tery of Butler, in Session at Butler, April 24, 1888. Your Standing Committee on Tem perance respectfully present tbe fol lowing report: In response to our application for narrative on temperance from the churches of the Presbytery, replies have been received from seven pas toral charges, comprising sixteen churches. There is a general uni formity in these narratives, and while they do not indicate so high a degree of enthusiasm in active, aggressive work in tbe cause of temperance in our churches as could be desired, yet they show that the subject ha 3 been by no means neglected. It has been kept before the people and pressed upon their attention in the ministra tions of the pulpit and in the instruc tions of the Sabbath schools and pub lic schools. In some instances special temperance meetings have been held and lectures delivered. One narra tive reports a union temperance alli ance, composed of members ot several churches, engaged in the work. The uoble W. C. T. Unions, both old and young, by their faithful, earnest and efficient aid, have been helping on the good cause, as usual. Contributions of money have been made in several of our "churches, and others intimate their intention to do so. Where the illicit sale of liquor has been carried on, earnest efforts have been made for its suppressiou, and remonstrances have been circulated, signed and pre sented to the Court ngainst the grant ing of licenses to sell intoxicating liquors. Such is a brief general out liue of the course that has been pur sued and the means used to keep tbe subject before the minds of the people and press it upou their attention. And, although, as before remarked, the interest aud enthusiasm have not been so great as could be desired, considering the importance of the cause, yet it is evident, from all the narratives, that tbe sentiment amongst the church members and good people generally is almost, if not entirely, in favor of total abstinence from all in toxicating liquors. And tbey are he ginning to realize more and more the necessity of strict legal prohibition as the most direct and speedy method of attaining it. And if the outward manifestation of this sentiment in active, aggressive work has seemed to be inadequate to the importance of the cause, there are several reasons for this. One reason is the fact that by far tbe larger part of our territory is practically prohibition. Twenty four of the thirty-three townships iuto which our county is divided (more than three-fourths) have not a liquor selling house in them, so far as known, either licensed or unlicensed. And of our three churches in Yenango county and the three in Mercer coun ty tbe case is the same—no liquor sbops in their bounds. In tho bounds of the two in Lawrence couuty only one is reported; so that with the ex ception of that ono saloon the liquor traffic in our bounds is confined to the eight townships—less than oue-fourth of the territory of this couuty. In tho other twenty-four towusbips there has not even been one petition pre sented to the Court for license. Hence the greut mass of our people do not come into immediate personal contact with the liquor traffic and do not so deeply realize its injurious ef fects. They are happily situated. As one of the narratives says, they "are not troubled with liquor," and they do not feel the need tor active local work, as they have no liquor amongst them. Under these circum stances it is hardly to be expected that they should be as active and ag gressive as those who are engaged in a hand conflict with tie evil. An other reason is tbe proposal by our last Legislature to have a constitu tional prohibitory amendment submit ted in due time to a vote of the peo ple. They expect this to be done, and are awaiting the result, expecting the evils of intemperance to be remov ed in this way. Still another reason is the provision of tho late license law restricting the right of remonstrance to those persons living in the town ship or district where tho applicant for license resides. This has prevent ed a great deal of active temperance work, and has also prevented the great mass of the people from being beard in their opposition to tbe grant ing of licenses. But notwithstand ing all this, and notwithstanding the disappointment of last year, tbe friends of temperance, order, sound morality and good government were hoping that the experience ot the evils of iutempcrance during tbe past year, together with tbe geueral and earnest expression of public sentiment on the subject might have their proper influ ence, and that a different result would be reached in the license court this year. But again we have been doom ed to disappointment. Unfortunate ly for the cause of virtue, prosperity and human happiness, our Court has again sacrificed the best interests of the people by licensing an iucreas. Ed number of driuking places, and has tbus continued the reign of vico nnd crime and misery within our bounds. Some Judges seem to havo a strange and yery unwholesome dread of the influence of public sentiment and think that it should not bo re garded, lest it should drive the Court "from its moorings and tend to an archy." But the strangest feature of this strange dread is that it seems to operate only whea public sentiment is in favor of temperance, truth and righteousness, sound morality and good government, and no fear is ex pressed whou it is in favor of tbe op evilß aud vices. But is this strange dread of public sentiment well found ed? Who ever beard of a public sen timent in favor of truth, righteousness, sound morality and government tend ing to anarchy? On the contrary, are not these public sentiments the very foundation and bulwark of all wholesome law and good government, so far as human instrumentality is concerned? What is government worth, or what is a law worth, how ever good it may be in itself, if it has not a sound public sontimeut to sus tain and execute it? Without the aid of this mighty influence to impart vitality and power, tbe ouo is simply a tottering fabric falling into ruin and the other is a dead letter upon tbe statute book. On a question like this, of liceDse to sell intoxicaliug liquors, wo can justly claim that .-egard should be hud to public seutiment, because our ofll cers are tbe servants of tbe people, chosen by the people, and clothed with thsir brief authority, to execute tbe will of the people, i:: whom, under our form of eovernm -at, the supreme power (so fur as it litlongs to men) RESIDES But WE claim it <>H a far higher grouud than this. We claim tbat regard should be had to public sentiment, not berana» it is politic sentiment, but because it is right sentiment. Because it is in harmony with the eternal and unchangeable principles of truth and righteousness, which are the foundation of aH just law and jnst government. It is in accord ance with the law of God, which shall staud, though the visible heavens and the earth pass away—and by this law judges and ollieers, as well as other men, shall bo tried and re ceive their unal sentence And it is on this ground, especially, that we claim that regard should be had to public sentiment ( when it is right; on a question like this, of granting li cense to 3011 intoxicating liqiors. Drunkenness is a sia which brings ruin to the budy and death to the soul. The word ot God classes it with tbe most heinous sins, as idolatry, murder and adulttry, and expressly declares "they who do such things shall uot iuherit tbe Kingdom of God." Then, since drunkenness is a sin, the drinking customs of men are sinful, because tbev are the direct cause of dauukenness. And since the drinking customs are sinful, ths whole liquor traffic is sinful, far it is the base of supplies for tbe custom. And if the trsflic is sinful, then it is sinful to legalize it by granting li cense to conduct the business. Thus, by stern and unanswerable logic, we arrive at the conclusion that tbe whole system of license is essentially sinful—a system of iniquity—evil, aud only evil, in its results. And as we said in our last report, so we say again: "It is an assumption of pow er, which tbe Supreme Lawgiver of tbe universe has never delegated to any government on earth, to author ize one class of citizens to work thu destruction of the rest, and to protect them in that work of destruction. Tbe revenue derived from it, whether it goes iuto the coffers of private in dividuals, or into the public treasury, is the "price of blood," and sooner or later it brings the curse after it. And, therefore,nothing but the divine judg ment, manifested in the corruption of public morals, tbe increase ot disor der and crime and pauperism, and tbe ruin of families and individuals, can reasonably be expected to follow where the system prevails. This is shown by the whole past history of the system, iustead of restraining and preventing the evils of intemperance, they have steaadily increased from the beginning of the system until this day. And now, if any professedly Chris tian magistrate should be placed in position where he would not have discretionary power to refuse the granting of license, his duty seems to plain. Let him "obey (iod rather than man," and at once resign a posi tion so fraught with evil and escape the responsibility. But such is not the case with our judges. They have discretionary power. Tho former law gave it to them, the Su preme Court upholds them in its ex ercise, aud the last law recognizes it, aud even requires them to exercise it. la section 7 of the act we read, "The suid Court of Quarter Sessions shall hear petitions tro:u re3iueuts of the ward, borough or township, in addition to that of the applicant, >u fayor of and remonstrances agaiust the application (or such license, and in all cases shall refuse the same, whenever in the opinion of tue said Court, having duo regard to the number aud character of the peti tioners for and against such applica tion, such license is not neces.sarv for the accommodation of the public aud the entertainment of strangers u'jd travelers, Ac." Here is discretiona ry power plainly conferred, aud its exercise enjoined by law. WIIEBEAS, The Court of Quarter Sessions of Butler county hus licens ed a number of houses for the sale of intoxicating liquors—in several cases utterly disregarding the lawfully ex pressed wishesof the moral,respectable and law abiding citiz -ns of the sever al districts, thus exercising a discre tionary power under the law f r too increase rather thau the preyeution of vice, artd crime and misery i.i our county, therefore, Resolved, That Presbytery look upon this act of our Court with deep sorrow and regret,in view of the evil consequences which naturally result from such action. 2d, That we regret it an a mistak en exercise of authority, aud a great injury done to those whose welfare the Court, in tho proper exorcise of its uuthority, should pro tect. :> J, We tender our hearty commen dation and encouragement to the no ble Christian wouiea of the various Christian Temperance Unions, both old and young, who have labored so faithfully arid practiced so much t;elf denial in this good work. 4th, We renew our recommenda tion to all our pastors to keep the subject prominently before the people in their pulpit ministrations, and in the instructions of the Sabbath school, and to parents in their family instructions, that tho children and youth may be trained up in habits of sobriety aud shielded from the dan gers of this destructive vica. sth, That, in reliance upon tho di vine blessings, we will persevere in faith, in prayer and in labor, assured that our labor shall uot be "in vain in the Lord" It is the cause of light against darkuess—of (tod against satan—and the diviuo promise se cures tho victory. Respectfully submitted by tho Committee. S. WILLIAMS, Chairman. Unanimously adopted by the Pres bytery and ordered to be published in the papers of the county. The Hog. Oh the bog, the beautiful hog, curl ing his tail as he watches the dog, defying the law for his bread and meat, roaming ut largo in every street, huntiug, grunting, nosing around, till the open gateway is sure to IK: found, with hinges broken and ruined quite, by the lovers that hung there Sunday night; it won't be shut, it won't hang level, and in walks the bog and raises the very—mischief.— Ex. J. B. Milroy has be«n nominat ed for (Jovornor by the Union Lahor Party of Indiana. —The Trenton, N. , Lock and Hardware Company will move to Chattanooga, Tenu. NO. 27 Had Nerve and Spirit. A haggard looking tramp stopped at a house in Kentucky and called for the "landlord." Old Major Bowles, a well known character in Ceutral Kentucky, stepped out on the gallery aud in a rather ungentle voice demanded: "What do you want here, sah?" "My dear air," said the tramp, taking off his tattered bat and bowing with a sort of meek despair, "you see me In bard luck." ' Damn your luck!" exclaimed ihe major. "I can heartily indorse that senti ment," replied the tramp, "but I am uot here to indorse or to receive en dorsement, but to ask for something to sustain the body. I am starv ing " "That's not my fault," said tbo ma jor. "The world is pretty well tilled with just such starving fellows as you are, but 1 have never heard of one of them dying. I don't mind giving a man a little to eat, but I'll IH) blowed if I intend to encourage your infernal laziness. Like all tbe rest of yonr tribe, I suppose that you claim to be quite a respectable fellow." :'Yes, sir." "Of course. And I reckon you once had money." "Yes, sir." "Of course. But you lost it on ac count of a rascally partner." "No, sir." "Stocks went down, then." "No, I had nothing to do with stocks." "Well, then, the bank broke." "I bad nothing to do with banks." "Why, this is strange. Overcrop ped yourself and there came a drought." "No. I had nothing to do with farming." "Is it possible?" said the major, now keenly interested. "Oh, I see, you bought a steamboat?" "No." "Sawmill?" "No, sir." "And yet vou had monev and lost it?" "Yes, sir," "But how?" "I lost it playing poker." "What!" exclaimed tbe major. "Why, my dear Bir, you are. not the rascal I took you for. Why, you are » mau of nerve and spirit Come in and help yourself to anything there is in the house. Mechanism of the Heart. In the human subject the average rapidity of thecordiae pulsation of an adult male is about seventy beats per minute. These beats are more fre quent as a rule in young children and in women, and there are variations within certain limits in particular persons owing peculiarity of organi zation. Ia animals, the range is from twenty-five to forty-five in the cold blooded and fifty upward in the warm blooded animals, except ia the cane of a horse, which has a very slow heart beat, only forty strokes a minate. The pulsations of men and all ani mals differ with the sea level also. Tbe work of a healthy human heart lias been shown to equal tbe feat of raising five tons four hundredweight one foot per hour, or 125 tons in 24 hours. The excess of this work un dor alcohol in varying quantities is often very great. A carious calcula tion has been made by Dr. Richard* son. giving the work of the heart in mileage. Presuming that tbe blood was thrown out the heart at each pulsa tion in tbe proportion of 69 strokes par minute, aud at the assumed force of nine feet, the mileage of blood through tbe body might be taken at 2ti7 yards per minute, seven miles per hour, 168 miles j»er day, 61,320 miles per year, or 5,150,880 miles ia u. lifetime of 84 years. The number of beats of the heart in the Bamu long lire wonld reach the grand total o? 2,869,770,000. A Sad Discovery. From Titusville, Pa., comes this strange story; A year ago a promi nent young man of Titusville, who had xpeut a couple of years in Rich mond, returned to his father's homo nnd introduced as his wife a beauti ful young woman. A few weeks asro the young wife became a mother, i'or four days no one was permit'- I to enter the room, nor was the moth er allowed to see her offspring, the ruom being being kept dark. The young husband finally demanded admittance. Then followed a hurt ling development. He discovered that the child was an undoubted ne gro. The indignation of tbe husband a-i 1 his parents was terrible. The wile'-i father was communicated with, and a letter from that gentleman in a measure makes matters plain. Briefly stated, tbe answer was this: Bessie, the young wife, wa* adopted when a child from an asyluit iu Richmond. About four years r tbe adoption, the foster parents acci dentally beard that the girl was tli child of a miscegenous marriage. Mo trace of this was visible in tbe child, who was as white as any Caucasiv. The secret of her life and true paren tage was never related to her antil now. The distraction of husband and wife is very pathetic. Family prido will not allow a continuance of marital relations, yet the two are deeply at tached to each other: —Mrs. Barry, of the K. of L., is organizing female assemblies. —The Binghamton Hoe and Tool Works will be removed to Birming ham, Ala. —Miss Eliza Bliss, of Rehobatb, Couu , invited an applicant for chari ty >uto her house the other day. When she was preparing food, the tramp sang "Nearer My God, to Thee," and at tbe same time stole tbe lady's pocket book and $25 from tbe bureau drawer. —The loss by the great railroad strike in the West, which began on the Chicago, Burlington and <4uincy lload forty-five days ago, has been estimated at $601,380 to men, and $2,100,000 to tbe corporations. This is exclusive of the indirect los ses, which cannot be ascertained. At Mount Pleasant, Pa., a far mer sold a load of oats to a business firm. A S2O bill was found* in one of the bags with tbe grain. Tbe pur chasers claim that the money belong# to them, and the farmer maintains that it is bis. It will probably take a law suit to decide.
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