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.