MM,, v XVI
TfILMMKMJD, '* «?
AAAAST-L
*' ! 30 S- MA I M.ST.
Our . pringgoods which comprises the latest novelties at
tainable, in Foreign and Domestic markets,
HAY K ARRIVED.
it is a consideration of all gentlemen who desire to
iln-s w-11. wh tto wear for Spring, and where he shall pur
•hns4', we invite you to inspect our immense stock, and you can
readilv select some thing ui table.
Sec Our Window Display.
Tl E VERY PEOPLE WHO ;
H..V_ TH£ LEAST MONEY | Are your wages small.
TO SPEND ARE THE ONES j Are you the 1103,1 ol a
family?
C'JR hELIABLE CLOTHING j ' ,
With marketing hills
KEANS HOST TO |i ßrge ?
With house rent"a drag on you?
1.0.v |».ic -s for honest, long-wearing Clothing will be a
boon to ycur j-ocket-lKiok and y our bacK.
Get an Iron-dad Cloth fc'uit at sl-. Str<invest All-Wo
Suit we know of. Nobody else sells it.
Get.). N I'ATTEKSON'S Cloth Suit at $1(1. JAr dress
«:i<l evervday wear combined it's wonderful value.
No matter how fine a suit you want for dress or business !
we* have that at a low price.
"'here is no o| en question about Boys' Clothing. We are
not < ni\ pioneers, but to-day's leaders in styles and qualities
hi hot excellence and lowest price.-",
hen I'itibt-r the place.
J. X. PATTERSON'S.
One Price Clothing House,
29 S. MAIN ST., BUTLER, PA.
NOTHING LIKE IT!
EC=lA=ES^==H=!- R
THE HARD CASH
Will work wonders at
The Cash Shoe Store,
No. 95 South Main Street, Hutler» Penn'a j
r~"x We have just receiv
\ ed a large stock of Boots', I ¥ ■
\ Shoes, Rubbers and I /
Slippers, and we intend 1 < #
««YDrK to do a cash business, § I
land can tell you any M \ I
4 I footwear vou may need jf %) \
cheaper than any house Jr j \
"7 Pin Butler doing a credit / , '■!
business. A r J '~°,:J I
lOfsEi* xtf l *
'
Blackmork & Grieb.
1881)—SUMMER —1889
We are now ready for
SUMMER TRADE,
having in stock a splendid assortment of
FINE DRESS GOODS,
MEDIUM DRESS GOODS,
LOW PRICED DRESS GOODS,
consisting of all the new things for summer wear, with the.
very latest things in trimming.-* to match.
CARP HITS,
Oil cloths, mattings, linoleums, rugs, stair rods, curtain poles,
lace curtains, blinds and scrims at lower prices
than ever before offered.
DOMESTIC N,
We carry a full line of all the standard domestic goods in
twilled and plain sheeting, pillow casing, ginghams, prints,
tickings and ail kinds of house furnishing goods.
BIT YE 11$
will learn by examination that it always po* them to do their
trading at
RITTER & RALSTON'S.
Fashion Emporium.
I Vf must confess ourselves completely surprised at the way our goods
have Ifivii .idling. On the Gtb we opened the largest stock we had ever
broairbt to Butler On the 20th our shelves were as bare as Mother Hub
bard's celebrated cupboard, and necessitated an entire re stocking at once.
To-rjior: »w we open the fresh lot. aid there is nothing of the showman's
talk about in our warning you to come at onee; it is the truth, from the way
our are seliinsr. Whether we sell because of cheapness, or quality of
tooilj; whether because of the quantity to select from or the knowing how
t >-auit customers: whether from any or all of them, is for your eyes and
judgment to decide—that we do the business is not doubted.
Jur-t a moment for a word or two on our latest novelties. The newest
thing in dress trimmings is the Surah Sash, very wide, and very handsome.
VV'- have a fine stock, at moderate prices. They are beautiful.
iiir. (-.,,i ri . Ifats are being worn a great deal, and they are verv becom
ing ! i ali.i'Mt any fare and figure. Our stock is unsurpassed and would cer
tainly suit the taste:) of the most fastidious.
Our (limp and Laces for dress trimmings are quite in keeping with the
extent of our stock in other lines. We have everything worth showing.
Tite pri<v, too. is what tells. While never for a moment sacriQciug quality
to cheapness, ffor our reputation is built on this very thing) we endeavor to
supply the best in the market at the most reasonable price. Remember that
Miss M. H. Gilkey,
THK I,KAI3INCi MILLINER,
NO.ua H. MAIN ST, IIUTLKK, I'A
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
FJACRASPFI
TRADE .... RK%(
REMEDY-PAIN
For Strains'and Sprains.
Evidence, New, Strong:.
lit. Pleasant, Texas,
Suffered 8 Years. Jane 20. 1888.
Suffered 8 yean with strain of back; conld not
walk straight; used two bottles Bt. Jacobs Oil;
was cured No paia In 18 months
H J. WALLACE.
On Crutches. Cambridge, Ohio. June 14. 'BB.
Two weeks on cratches from strainsd ankle; ose4
Bt Jacobs Oil; no return of pain In oma
year. WM. DAT.
Used Cane. Houstotw Texas, June 13. 1888.
Sprained my back; had to use eaus; was cursd
by Bt. Jacobs Oil after 2 months' suffering.
MRS B. BHONEFIELD
In Bed. Houghton. Mich., M»y 22. 1888.
About March 3. I strained my ankle and was ia
bed one week; used cans two weeks. Three appll*
cations a day. from three bottles of St. Jacobs Oil,
cured me. Mo return of pais.
JOSEPH DANIEL EASTEHDAY.
Terrible Pain. Plsinrlew, 111., May 18, 1888.
I sprained my thumb last Spring, and a terribla
swelling and pain ensued. Four applications of Bt,
Jacobs Oil cured me and there has been no return
of pain. GIL. 8. B&Owit.
AT DRTCGISTS AND DEALERS.
THE CHARLES A. VOGELER CO.. BaHimort. Md.
EDUCATIONS L
INDIANA NORMAL SCHOOL,
ISDUSA, PA.
Indiana is a school abreast of the times. No
efforts arc being spared to make ir tlie leading
professional training school In tlie country.
Ihe faculty Is composed of members who are
specialists as teachers and scholars in their re
spective departments. There are also college
preparatory, commercial, and musical depart
ments. /.. X. SNYIIk'K. I'li.W., Friar!pal.
Curry Business College.
OF
CCRKY IN'IVEUSITY,
SIXTH STREET. FITTSBI Rli.
The best Equipped and most successful Busi
ness College In Petin'a. Individual Instruction
for ever}' student from 9 A.M. till 4 F. SI., and
from 7 till to P.M. Actual Business Practice
and Practical Banking are Specialties. The best
advantages In Shorthand and Type-writing.
The University also sustains full regular cour
ses of study in the Classic al. Scientific, Semina
ry. Normal. Music and Elocutionary Depart
ments. Correspondence solicited. Send foi
catalogues.
JAMES CLARK V i 1.1.1 VMS, A. M , I'rest.
HIRAM COLLEGE,
II Irani. O. Thorough Classical. Philosophical
and Scientific courses. Also a Biblical course
and a 3 yeais' course especially to prepare
Teachers for their work. Much attention «lven
to preparatory studies. New and commodious
buiktings. Fine Ladies' Hall under care of
I .ally Principal. Location high and very liealth
-1 til. No saloons. Expenses very low. Next
trmi begins Sept. 17, lsnS). For Catalogue and
Inloiniiiilon address.
E. Y/ZOI.LAKS, President.
Washington & Jefferson
College, Washington, Penn'a.
Tins s»th jcar begins Sept. 11. Claslcal,Scien
tific anil Preparatory Departments. For Infor
mal ion concerning Preparatory Department ap
ply to PROF. J. ADOI.PH SCHMITZ, l'rln;. for
Catalogue or other information to FREST
SIOFFAI.
BEAVER COLLEGE I N\STn'CTE for
young girls and young ladles. Beaver. Pa. Most
fully equipped Ladles and Music School In
Western Fenn'a. Thirty-fifth year and no
death. Healthful and beautiful location. Pop
ular rates. Only fifty boarders received, send
for catalogue. K. T. TAYLOR. Pres.
TWO CHOICE SCHOOLS.
BROOKE HALL,
For Girls and Young Ladies.
Shortlidge Media
Academy,
For Boys and Young Men.
SWITHINC. SHORTLIDGE, AM
(HARVARD GRADUATE.)
MEDIA, I'A., (Near Philadelphia.)
,T. E. Kastor,
Practical Slate Roofer.
Ornamental and Plain Slating
Of all kinds done on short notice.
Ollice with W. 11. No.
7, N. Main St„ Kesidenee
Nortli Elm street,
Butler, Pa.
Willard Hotel,
W. H. REIIIING, Prop'r
BXJTLJEH, - 1
KTABLIKU IX COXXKCTIOX.
SAMPLE ROOM for COMMERCIAL TRAVELERS
SAMPLE ROOM. LIVER\" IN CONNECTION
Hotel Vogeley
(Strictly First Clans.)
HENRY L. BECK, PROP'K.
.). U. FAUBKL, Manager. Butler, Pa.
Diamond : - : Hotel,
Fronting Diamond, Butler, Pa.'
THOMAS WASSOX, Pro'r.
(!ood rooms, pood meals, stabling in con
nection, everything first class.
EITENMULLER HOTEL,
No. 88 and 90, S. Main St.,
BUTLER. - - PA..
Near New Court House—formerly Donaldson
House—good accommodations lor travelers.
Good stabling connected.
[t-u-'so iyi II EITENMUT LER. Prop'r.
NIXON'S HOME,
35 N. MCKEAN s r.. BUTLER, PA.
Meals at all hours. Open all night.
Breakfast cents.
Dinner 2. r , cents.
Supper i'."i cents.
Lodging ■£> cents.
SIMEON NIXON - - - PROP'R.
WHEN" YOU
VISIT PITTSBURGH
CALL ON
JOHN R. & A. MURDOCH,
n smlilitleld street, for Trees, Seeds, Lilies,
rape Vines, Hardy Roses, Canary Birds, Gold
Glsh. etc.
Descriptive Kail Catalouifo mailed free.
fi 'f" RTKFRQ o * hL ' f5 ■ , ' w,lo c*annln»
WW ■ til I IwCnO tins pape ,of obtain ostimat i
on advertising r,f* when in Chicago, will find it on ft'cit
\dvortu»ngA£*?» LORD & THOMAS.
Lrk'E JUDKIN'S CHEERFUL
END.
"Tough? lie's all made o" whipcord, I
| tell ye. Last? *>' course hc'il last Ain't
;he over ninety a'readyf Smart? See'ui
< out there now a-playiu' croky—be an'
Henery Green! llenery is a babe as coin
! pared with Luke, an' Henery is over
, seventy-five. Ye'll never open the new
i cem'tery with Luke, 1 tell ye. Tain t no
j use waitiu'."
Tiie undertaker moved a quid of tobacco
| slowly from one side of his long lautern-
I jaw to the other as he replied, dubiously,
I "The new eimetery folks say thet the folks
! to East Village ain't respondiu" as they bed
ought to the new enterprise."
••Waal, they hedn't ought to eal'late on
old Luke, anyhow."
The speakers sat on the steps of Enoch
Johnson's store in East Village, and look
ed across the green to where two old men
were playing croquet—a game not yet ex
tinct in the mountain farming districts of
Vermont. Pretty soon a quarrel seemed
to spring up between the two players; loud
words rang out under the elms, then came
a lierce interchange of blows. The under
taker and Enoch Johnson stood up on the
store steps to watch the contest at better
advantage. Presently Enoch said, as if
apostrophizing: "Thet Luke Judkin's the
coiisaruedest, eussedest, peskiest old crit
ter! nenery is hurted, an' here comes ;
Luke with a broken mallet. Shouldn't ;
wonder ef he'd say Henery was all to |
blame. Spry? Ain't he spry! D'ye ever j
hear about his dog? He's cuter than old
Luke himself. Here the old reskill comes,
ll'lo. Luke!"
"H'lo, Enoch! How's folks?"
Luke Judkin briskly walked up to the
store, holding the parts of a broken mallet
handle in his hands. He was a picture of
that agile, athletic old age which so often
obtains at the present day among the "hill
farms'' in Vermont. His nose and chin be
trayed a ludicrous intimacy. His back was
bent with the weight of years. His hands
had grown into long unsightly claws. The
day was hot, and it was mid-day, but the
sun at 110 degrees only sufficed to pleasant- j
ly warm the bald head of the old man. J
whose sharp little eyes in their cavernous j
sockets gleamed up at the store-keeper in
keen recognition.
"Been a-playin' croky?" answered Enoch,
not replying, according to East Village
etiquette, to the old man's inquiry concern
ing his "folks."
"Yas; beat Henery Green three games
rnunin'," said Luke. "Would 'a beat a
fourth, only llenery, he said I cheated.
'Twa'n't no sich a thiug!" and his eyes
blinked savagely, like the eyeballs of an
antiquated parrot. "I didn't cheat no
more an' no less than he did."
"Come to blows, eh?"
"Yas. 'Twa'n't nothin'. Struck our
mallets together a leetle. Say, Enoch, j
measure niu out a cent's wuth o' glue— I
Henery broke my handle."
"I'd like to see that cent," drawled |
Enoch, slowly rising and meandering with- !
in his store for the glue.
Luke took a seat on the steps, near the .
undertaker, and proceeded to wipe his per
spiring face with his shirt sleeve. The un
dertaker lo jked hiiu over professionally a
moment; then said, musingly: "Luke,what
is your measure? Five foot seven an' a harf
or five eight an' a harf?" He put the ques
tion casually, as if not personally interest
ed.
"Mr. Stapples, 3-ou got money in thet
new cem'tery enterprise, 'ain't ye?"
Mr. Stapples allowed he had—"a few.
huiulerd."
"Waal, 'tan't nothiu' to you what I
measure. I cal'late I ken tire out any
cem'tery enterprise as has started to East
Village, an' when I decease I purpose bein"
buried to Weston,"
"Sho!" Mr. Stapples leaned over and
picked up a straw, to conceal his feeling of
disappointment and vexation.
"I'm agin all them new-fangled patent
iron monitnents an' iron fixin's, an' agin all
this 'ere flummery folks is talkin' about.
The old-fashioned marblo head-stuns is
plenty good 'null'. Ther's altogether too
much fancy fixiu' to the new cem'tery. I'm
agin fountain play into a cem'tery—yes I
be! and ef the old berryin'-ground's full, as
they sa.v, I'm a-goin' to Weston.'
"Sho!' again ejaculated the undertaker,
in an undertone. "Shouldn't think you'd
like to make yourself so unpopular."
"What's folks to East Village cvor done
for met I ain't agoin' to do nothin' for
them—no I ain't!"
"AVe hed hoped," urged the undertaker,
"that you'd open our new cimeteiy, an' we
cal'latcd to have the Weston baud."
"'Tain't no use argufyin'!" said Luke,
stubbornly.
"A band an' a address by the Methodist
an' Presbyterin ministers," softly smiled
Mr. Stapples.
Luke moved uneasily on the step.
"A adress makin' mention of your noble
carrickter, an' praisin' of it, an' makin' out
as how you were a great plilauthropeed,"
smiled Mr. Stapples, affably.
"A what is't?" asked Luke, quickly turn
ing his sharp, discrediting eyes lull upon
the undertaker.
"A phi lanthropeed—l cal'late one
what is a sorter magnit,"
Old Luke began to chuckle well within
himself. "Me a magnit 'n East Village!"
he grinned. "Why, 1 can't get trust fer a
bag o' oats!"
Enoch came out with the glue done up
in a bit of brown paper. "Guess ye hinted
Ilenery, ye old sinner," said he, looking
across the green. "There's Marier a-doin'
bis head up in a hanksher. Look's though
his skull was cracked—darn me eft don't!"
"llope 'tis," said Luke. "He'd no biz
ness to say I cheated. Why, croky ain't
no fun onless ye cheat some; an' Ilenery,
he's wuss 'n I be."
"Waal," said Enoch, slowly, "folks
know yeou! and I guess Henry's mostwise
in the right, Say, Luke, here's the glue;
now where's the cent?"
Old Luke folt about in his breeches pock
ets for some moments, apparently to no
purpose. Then he felt in his boot top, and
pulled out a dirty and much-mangled live
dollar bill.
"Here, Enoch; give me four dollars and
ninety-nine cents chauge"—and Luke
handed up the bill.
Enoch laughed a sickly laugh. "Yeou
know I hain't got the change," he said;
"but I'll cabbage onter this bill, and yeou
can let it go agiu our akouut—thet there
forty-nine dollars and eighty-six cents fer
store projuce as has stood fer—le's see—
three year and over."
Luke quickly thrust the bill into his
trousers pocket. "I call ye to witness,
Mr. Stapples, I tendered the cash. Yes I
did; and now Enoch, lo's have the glue."
"Le's hev the bill, Luke. Guess I ken
get the change up to the savin's-bank."
Luke shook his his head.
"No bill, no glue." insisted Enoch.
"Waal, no glue, no cent!" replied Luke,
savagely.
"Sho! at yer old games, ain't ye!" said
Enoch, and he sheepishly handed over the
the glue, and walked back into the the
store, while Ltuko Judkin grinned.
"Luke's got ye, Enoch. I see'im tender
the cash," suid the undertaker.
BUTLFR, PA., FRIDAY. AI GI'ST SO. 188H-
• Enoch stood in the doorway, shuffled his
i feet a little and looked foolish.
•He alius do get tlie better o'most."
1 said Enoch. "Hut some day. mark my
.' word, Lukc'll pt fetched up short. Some
tin will take and thrash him: and lough as
i he is. he'll wish he was a daru site tougher
i then."
Luke said nothing. I'laeinjr the glue in
| his breeches pocket, he walked rapidly
! across the green toward his liarn.
••He's smart." ejaculated the undertak
er. "and no mistake: but 1 eal'late the new
cimetery's smarter'n him. It ken wait
: longer'u he ken, and he knows it. I eal
i 'late I did them folks a good turn when I
put iu a word about the brass band and the
j eration. Luke kinder pricked up his ears.
I see."
Enoch shook his head. "Xo; he'll beat
i vou folks yet,"' he said. "He'll trick ye
sonie waj-." Shading his eyes with his
j hand, Enoch looked down the road. "Daru
j me el" his dorg ain't come back home agiu!
j Ther's one smarter'n Lake to East Village.
Tain't uo man; it's a dft-g! Yas, Luke's
j cute, but his dorg—he's cuter'n Luke. Rut
both on 'em are a pair. Land! see thet
dorg sneak home, hidin' bcliint thet hedge,
knowing, sure as guns, he's bin sold agin
fer five dollars—the bill ye see Luke hev—
and coming home fer to be sold agiu! Why
Luke's made forty dollars outen thet p'in
ter inside o' three months, to my sartin
knowledge."
The undertaker laughed. "Make money
outen a dorg? Xo! G'way!"
"Yep."
"The same dorg?"
"Yep. I see 'im sell the p'inter yestid
dy to Hank Spiuk. Hank's a feller as
won't stand no nonsense neither. llank
druv off with the dorg in his buggy, him a
looking kinder knowing at old Luke, and
a-wagging oi his tail ez tho' he knowed
what to do without being told. Xow he's
back, and Luke'll try and sell 'im agin to
some fool afore the week's out."
"I swan! Thet's cheating."
"Cheating? Luke'd cheat tho store teeth
outen his gran'ther. Why, he's the cuss
they renegaded into the war fer palming
off shoe-pegs on government bosses fer
oats. And ye ought to hear him brag o'
them war times! 1 shouldered a gun, but
he never saw Dixie's land 'cept as a sutler,
and now he's a-living off a pension as he got
'cause he claimed he was injured iu the
Wilderness, being throwed heavy in a
wrastling match—he war alius wrastling—
and spraining a shoulder-blade, which he
gets ten dollars a mouth fer ever sencc.
I'er'aps thet live dollar bill was dorg mon
ey; per'aps it guv'ment money; guess like
ly dorg money—l dun know."
"Ponr me out a gallon o' molasses,"
said the undertaker as he rose to go. (iuess
ef Luke's a reskill we don't want ter open
our new eimetery with no such a carrick
ter. We'd better be looking around fer a
corpse as we ken praise up without lying
about. Sho! The village is sodern healthy,
and we've waited an waited, and spent our
money;" and the undertaker heaved a deep
sigh.
"Wall, better look fer another corpse as
ain't a reskill. and hasn't sold a dorg over
a dozen times," laughed Enoch, as the mo
lasses slowly d rained from the hogshead
into the undertaker's jug. "Luke would
spile any cem'tery. (iuess folks to Weston
won't thuuk Luke much fer his choosing.
Guess likely he'll be forced to try the new
enterprise arter all."
An empty farm wagon drove by iu the
dusty road, m aking a great clatter, and
obscuring Luke's house and barn across
the green in a cloud of dust.
When the dust rose and they could see
beneath it, Luke could be seen leading his
pointer into the barn. He seemed to be in
somewhat of a hurry, and the dog proving
unwilling, he led the animal quickly back
into the house. At the same moment a
liorsonian rode furiously up to the store,
threw himself off his horse, and shouted to
Enoch, who stood on his door-step, scarce
ly ten feet away: "ll'lo, Enoch! Seen any
thing of my p'inter I bought o' Luke Jud
kin fer five dollars?"
"Cheap dorg!" grinned Enoch, in re
ply.
"Bought 'iin last Thursday, and here
'tis only Tuesday, and the dog run off. I
suspect Luke's got 'im back. Ef the con
sarned raskill has gone and done me, I'll—
I'll—" The speaker, a tall, athletic young
farmer, pave a quick swing to his arm as
he spoke, indicative of the punishment he
would jnllict upon old Luke Judkin if
found delinquent.
"Hank Spink, you'd orter know better'n
to try an' buy thet dorg. Menny liez tried
it," said Enoch, "an' uot one on 'em's ev
er hed much success. You earrn't buy
thet dorg, Hank; you carru't do it! The
dorg's too smart, Yes, I see thet dorg not
a few minits ago. Guess he's to Luke's
bam now."
"Well, 1 guess I boughten the dorg; an'
I'll hev the dorg, or I'll hev the law outer
Luke!"
The undertaker smiled. "Mebbe a* you
ken arest a dorg!" he said. "As for Luke,
lie ain't done nuthiif; it's the dorg's fault."
Hank Spink scratched his head. "I ain't
no lawyer shark, but guess I know 'null' to
know thet dorg's boughten an' paid for; an'
he's my dorg, an' I'll get 'im outen Luke's
barn, or Luke gets a lickin'.one or t'other!" 1
said llauk, angrily, striding across the
green toward Luke Judkin's white house
and dingy gray barn.
The others followed. Enoch was alto
gether too much interested in the event of
the "dorg" matter to hesitate a moment
about the need of'tendin' his store. Per
ceiving his departure, half a dozen young
urchins, strolling homeward from a bath
and swim in a neighboring stream, stole
into the store and slyly helped themselves
to "Jackson balls" and 'lasses cakes in the
window. Not content with these sweets,
they daubed their faces with flour, and ar
rayed themselves in the yellow tarpaulin
suits which hung over the counter.
But if the urchins >vere having a good
time, the ill-concealed look of amusement
in honest Enoch's face as he crossed the
greeu also showed that he too was enjoy
ing himself, perhaps equally well. "I'd
like to seo how Hank'll go to work," he
laughed. "Hank's mad, an' Luke ain't no
match for him a bare stand-up fight. Hut
Luke's tricky. Hank'll get the dorg!" You
see, Mr. Stapples, it'll take a sheriff an' a
possy to fetch the dorg away—an' I was a
goin' to say a hull jedgc an' jury to hold
'im! Luke is game, he is. Guess he's got
the dorg hid away by this time. Sho! here
he comes! Now what's he a-doin off"
Enoch's genuine admiration for old
Luke's shrewdness found vent a moment la
ter in a hearty slap upon his thigh. Luke
advanced toward Hank Spink with a hearty
treble "How-ter-doof and a hand-shake
which, by its warmth of feeling, quickly
disarmed the stalwart young farmer. "So
—ye forgot to tie the dorg up, did ye*
Waal, he's come home. Yes he has. Hank,
ye didn't feed him 'null vittles. Marier,
she used to feed him too much, and the
dorg, he likes vittles; so he's run off. I
s'pose."
"Yes, 1 come arfter the dorg, Mr. Jud
kiu," said Hank Spink, mollified.
The old man's thin hair was brushed and
combed up back over his ears. No rural
saint could ever have looked meeker and
milder than Luke in his clean lineu duster,
his collarless shirt, and his greased boots.
"Waal, he's high an' low 'liout the yard
some'eres, llank. I see 'im chasm* 'bout
though he was glad to get back an' get vit
tles agin. Hi. Snapper, Snap! Don't see
'im now zactly."
Old Luke gated about the yard and at
I the house furtively, as if he expected the
j dog to look out at him from the second
; story window and wink. Rut Snap made
no appearance at a window or
and Hank Spink shoved his lean hands far
down in his breeches, with:
"Look r-here, Luke; I ain't a-goin' to
j stand no foolin*. 1 want thet dog. 1 paid
| fer him fair, an' Ido admit that he was &
I dern cheap dorg fer the price."
"Well, tarnation! Ketch the dorg an'
take 'm away. I ain't go' nothin' to do
with the dorg. The dorg's yourn; take 'in
away ef he's here." replied Luke's high tre
ble.
"Waal, he's here. I guess, ef he aiu't
hid," said Hank, inconsequently. "Come,
now, fetch him out!"
At the same moment the door opened,
.and around chubby woman, with very
black bead-like eyes and little black ring
lets, appeared. She onl\ T stood in the op
en doorway long enoug to make up a face
at the strange men in the door-yard, ex
claim. •'Linn!'." and retire agaiu within the
house, as if provoked beyond all desire for
discovery.
"Marier's mail's a hornit a'ready," laugh
ed Enoch, xotto roce. to the undertaker;
"an* see them men trackin' up her clean
floor!"
Hank Spink had entered the porch at the
side of the house, and Luke had followed
him. They walked the length of the porch,
which had been freshly cleaned that morn
ing, and Hank placed his hand on the latch
of tho door, when old Luke placed his hand
on him.
" 'Tain't no use goin' in an' upsettin' ev
erything iu this house on 'count of a dorg."
"Leggo me!" answered -
goin' to hev thet dorg, au' I eal'late no one
ain't goin* to stop me!"
Luke placed himself before the door.
"I'm a-goin' to stop any man openin'
my door an' enterin' my house without a
search-warrint. Yes I be!"
"Oh, you be, be ye?" And Hauk gave
the old man a thrust aside. They glared
at each other. There was a little sparring
for a "side hold," when quick as a flash,
the old man threw Hank over his shoulder,
landing him a good twelve paces on the
grass. As Hank lay there sprawling 011
the turf, Luke, pale with his effort and
with anger,shook his fist over his prostrate
foe.
"You'll never git thet dorg. Hank, on
less ye ken wrastle better'll thet!" Then he
put his hand suddenly to his heart. "God
Almighty!" he exclaimed, in a hoarse
whisper, as Enoch ran forward. "Some
pen's broke inside! Run an' fetch Mariar!
Some one go for the doctor! I'm—l'm
I'm — He kin hev his dorg."
The old man sank to the floor of the
porch, aud rolled over ou one side.a ghast
ly whiteness spreading over his face.
"He's dead—dead as a nit!" cried Enoch,
aghast.
"Xo he ain't," said the undertaker,
kneeling by his side. "He's only fainted.
Hauk, you run fer the doctor. Mebbe it's
a murder ease. Guess ye'd better kinder
let the doctor know, Hank, an' then yeou
lite out, an' keep hid away. I'll testify
'twan't your fault bein' throwed thet way,
but yeou lied orter got a sarch-warriut—yes
yeou hed!"
Hank took the hint, and went out of the
yard, much crestfallen and quaking with
fear. Although he fancied he heard a dog's
whine come out to him from the house, he
did not stop to look back or attempt to
whistle after him, the fatal cause of all his
trouble that day. He left word with the
doctor, and galloped back to his little hill
farm on the mountain-side, a sadder and a
wiser, if a dogless, man.
The doctor worked over Luke for an
hour. Aunt Mdrier, with u seared look,
made gruel and poultices, for which there
could be no possible use; but ou being so
informed, only went ou making more gruel
and more poultices, as if by way of proving
herself useful in an emergency, if for no
other reason.
'•Luke Judkin "came round." After a
week he was out again, the hard, knotty
old fellow. liut he was not the same man
he was. "'Pears like I hain't got long fer
to live," he said, wjth a melancholy whine.
"My innards ain't right. 'Pears my orgius
is twisted inside."
Hut however great the changes wrought
by his last "wrastle" on Luke's body and
iusidcs, his mental change and moral re
generation were something astonishing.
"lie ain't the same cuss," said Enoch, as
he sat on his threshold, two weeks later,
with one or two farmers, and glanced
across the green. "He's sorter meachin'
an' wilted down—no spunk left! Land! he
as uster be kinder feelin' round ter do
somethin' mean ter his neighbors, an' make
'em feel mean ter him, why. he's turned
right round! Ouess he won't live long.
No! Folks says he's paid up all his debts.
Waal, he's paid my 'count—every cent,
an' he went an' paid fer Marier's—tliot's his
fourth wife, yeou rekleet?—sister's child's
fichoolin' uown to Js'orthfield. An' ez fer
thet derg o' hizen, Hank got hint back all
right; yes, an' Luke, he's tryin' fer to act
oh the square. Why, there's Mr. Stapples
a-comin'! Dead? Luke Judkin dead? Why,
I want ter know! Thet's news! Whew!"
"Yes; died half an hour ago," said the
undertaker, who came across the green to
the store with a pail for ice. "Passed away
peaceful like. Yes, yes, I were oil hand;
happened so. Luke's dead at last. The
strain's what killed him. Yes,looks peace
ful an' like a saint."
'•1 cal'late he's a saint 'noagh now."
sighed Enoch, with a Xew-Englander's
readiness to canonize all deceased persons.
"He were wicked at times, were Luke, but
mostwise he were so dern smart thet ye
hod ter fergiv' 'im. An', waal, what ef
he did sell his dorg over a dozen times?
Wa'n't it half the dern dorg's fault? Dead?
Waal, ye don't say so!"
"It were part the dorg's fault," replied
the undertaker; "but ef I stan' here a-talk
in', Luke 'll spile, an' all thet there peace
ful ind of hizen will go for naught. I never
see a corpse look so mild and good-tcnipcr
ed. Most looks sour, Mr. Johnson; but
Luke, he smiles away, as ef he hed a easy
death, kinder passed over the river, as they
say, an' larfm' an' smiling good-by; an' it's
jest hit the cinietery folks off right, tew.
Mr. Johnson —jest right. Oh, we finished
oil'the roadways jest in time, an' we shell
give Luke a big funeril—as big as from
seventy-five to one hundred dollars 'll buy,
yes."
Luke's was indeed a grand funeral for
East Village. There was some smirking
and smiling over the patent fact that the
"new cemetery folks" bad got the better ot
old Luke at last, and there were some hid
den winks over the fervid eloquence of the
Rev. Mr. Scrooby as he praised the high
character of the deceased—encomiums bet
ter fitted, perhaps, to the last fortnight of
his life than the previous five-and-eighty
years. Hut the band was on hand, and its
narrow repertoire, though containing no
funeral music, gave the greatest satisfac
tion imaginable. Was it not auspicious to
open the new ce.uieteiy with the tune
John Brown's Body," followed, between
prayers, by "The Star-spangled Banner'?
j Certes. Old Luke Judkin that summer's
i day had a most cheerful end! "tt> her
| made him," said the undertaker, solemnly
| —"wo liev made him a sorter phi-lanthro
peed.—.!. S. W. i„ Harpers 11,,1.'./.
The Hydraulic Railway.
The hydraulic railway is a novelty at
' trading much attention at P»ris just now.
! It i s the development of an old project of
j (iirard. the well-known French hydranlie
i engineer. The trains are without locomo
; lives and the carriages are without wheels.
being supported on broad rails raised some
' distance above the ground by metal blocks,
i Before the train is set in motion, water
j under pressure is forced through valves in
j these bearing block-, so that the latter are
i lilted of] the rails and are carried on a thin
j film of water. The same agency is em
i ployed tii propel the traius. a pipe, convey
ing water under pressure, being laid in the
center of the track: from this pipe at short
intervals rise stand-pipes with peculiar
shaped nozzles controlled by a tap. Be
neath each carriage is a long frame in
which are a number of pallets, the surface
; of which can be acted upon by the jet cs
■ taping from the nozzles The action is ex
tremely simple; the train being water
borne, and therefore having its friction re
duced to any great extent, is set in motion,
; and as soon as it passes the tirst stand-pipe
opens the valve controlling the nozzle,
when a stream of water under pressure is
forced against the pallets under the car
riages, accelerating the speed of the latter.
As soon as each carriage passes, the valve
controlling the nozzle is shut, and remains
closed until the succeeding carriage opens
it. The plans of if. (iirard have been
worked out in their present form by 11.
I*irre. who claims many advantages for
tie system. The length of line laid down
on the Esplanade des Invalided is about
20(1 yards, and the speeds attained are very
considerable.
Three Sizes of Postal Cards.
People who use postal cards, and every
body does more or less, will soon have
three sizes from which to choose, the pres
ent size and one larger and one smaller.
The present postal card is inches.
The smaller card will only be one-sixteenth
of an inch narrower, but will be half an
inch shorter, and probably be gcnerallv
used for limited correspondence, etc. The
larger size will be the business postal, and
will be inches wide by t>i inches long,
three-fourths of an inch wider and one inch
longer than the present card and giving
one-third more surface space.
The contract was awarded last Friday by
Acting Postmaster General CI ark sou. to
Albert Daggett, of New York, for the sup
ply of postal cards for the next four years.
It is estimated that two billion cards will
be needed in that time, or ">00,000,000 a
year. The contract price of these amounts
to SBOO,OOO, a decrease of over 30 per cent,
from the old contract. These two billion
cards will require nearly 7,0Q0 tons of card
board, or an average of about six tons each
working day, to be made, printed, chopped
into proper size, put into packages of 25
each, boxed and shipped wherever needed-
The average weight of the three sizes will
be a little over 0j pounds and the cost to
the government about 40 cents a thousand.
When postal cards were first introduced
into this country, in 1873, their cost was
$1.39$ per thousand, or three and a half
times the present price. On theso two
billion cards, costing SBOO,OOO, the govern
ment will receive +20,000,000 in postage.
A Simple Relief for Lung
Troubles.
It has long been known that pine needle
pillows would alleviate persons afflicted
with lung troubles, and a Florida editor re
lates an incident in support of the fact as
follows.- During a visit to the home of a
most estimable lady living on Indian river,
this editor was told of a discovery that had
been made which may prove a boon to
sufferers from lung or bronchial troubles
This lady having heard that there was pe
culiar virtue in a pillow made from pine
straw, and having none of that material at
hand, made one from fine, soft, pine shav
ings, and had the pleasure of noting imme
diate benefit. Soon all the members of the
household had pine shavings pillows, and
It was noticed that all coughs, asthmatic
or bronchial troubles abated at once after
sleeping a few nights on these pillows. An
invalid suffering with lung trouble derived
much benefit from sleeping upon a mat
tress made from pine shavings. The
material is cheap and makes a very pleas
ant and comfortable mattress, the odor of
the pine permeating the entire room and
absorbing or dispelling all unpleasant
odors.
A Quick Trip from Japan.
A consignment of silk and first crop
teas, occupying sixteen cars, arrived in
New York on July 2<> from Yoko
hama. via steamship to Vancouver,
11. C.. and transcontinental rail
route to New York. The total dis
tance wsa nearly 8,000 miles, and it took
twenty one days to accomplish it. includ
ing a delay of about one day in loading on
the cars at V aneouver.
—"Pa," inquired Bobby, as they were
returning from a Revivalist meeting, "Why
do those people shout so loud? is (Sod
deaf.'" "No, Bobby, but in a case of that
kind He is a good way off."
—Out in California they have a man
who, it is claimed, is over 150 years old.
"Old Gabriel," as he is called, has no use
for the Brown Scquunl elixir.
—The city of Brooklyn* can probably
boast of having the largest bread bakery
in the world. Seventy thousand loaves a
day it usually turns out. requiring three
hundred barrels of flour. Three hundred
and fifty persons are employed in the bak
ery, and for delivering the bread in New
York, Brooklyn and adjacent places, over
one hundred wagons, constructed for the
purpose, are in constant use.
—ln the patent suit of A. L. Ide A Son
against the Ball Engine Company, of Erie,
l'a.. for infringment of use of dash pot
in flywheel governor, Judge Blodgett, of
Chicago, on July 22 handed down his opin
ion in favor of the Ball Company.
In Season.
I caught a string of beauties.
Away up the river to-day,
The finest buss that were e'er pulled
out;
But the biggest one got away.
And down in the mill pond meadow,
The boys who were making hay,
With forks and rakes killed .'t.OOO snakes;
But the biggest one got away.
And so I have heard of liars
Since Ananias's day;
There are just a few who receive their
due.
But the biggest one gets away.
Through years of toil Columbus
T'nto our New World came;
But a charlatan skipped after,
And gave that world his name.
All day in street and market
The liar's name we see;
Columbia!—sweet and seldom—•
Is left to Poetry.
And the names bring back a lesson
Taught to the world in youth—
That the realm of Song and Beauty
Is the only home of Truth."
Saved Her Child.
i A most remarkable rescue from death
I took place at the farm of Wendell Russell,
about three miles from Venice. 111., the
I other afternoon, -ay - the St. Louis fihht
' Democrat- Mr. Russell bail removed the
! pump from the well to make some repairs
' anil hail partially covered the a pert are
with boards. A little four yoar-old boy
playing in the vicinity got on these boards
| anil fell throuph. one of the boards going
j with him. His mother heard hi* cries and
; rushed to the rescue. There was about
twelve feet of water in the well, and the
distance from the top to the surfaee of the
water was about fifteen feet. She could
| see the little one clinging to the board and
floating on the water. No assistance was
at hand and she was thrown on her own
j resources. Her wits worked quickly and
-he acted with great promptness. Secur
ing a stout rope that was near at hand, she
' fastened one end of it tightly about the
body of her nine-year-old daughter and
then let her down to the water, where she
grabbed the little one and shouted to her
mother to pnll her up. Her mother could
not do it. While it was a comparatively
i easy matter to lower the girl steadily and
to hold her it was quite another thing to
haul her up, and the mother's strength was
not equal to the task. She. however, found
: a way out of the dilemma. With a few
t words of encouragement to her loved ones
clinging to each other just above the sur
face of the water, she made the rope fast
above and ran to get a ladder that was
standing against the house. This she let
down the well, but it reached only a little
below the surface of the water, and there
nothing for it to rest on. She secured a
stout piece of timber and placed it across
the top of the well betweeu the top rounds
of the ladder, thus giving it a firm support,
though the lower end swung iu a manner
somewhat dangerous to an unsteady climb
er. Then she took the rope by which her
daughter was suspended and swung her to
the ladder. The girl seized the ladder
with her left hand, and with her little
brother tightly clasped by her right arm,
climbed the ladder, assisted by her mother
with the rope. I>oth were brought up
( safely, and the only injuries sustained were
a few bruises and a thorough ducking to
the little one.
A Roman Girl and Her Doll.
1 n May last the workmen who are dig
g ing the foundation for the new law courts
in Rome, discovered a sarcophagus buried
30 feet below the surface. Immediately
the telophone called to the spot the mem
l hers of the Archaeological Commission, sci
entific !»nd literary nun. who watch with
! jealous care all the excavations made in
the Eternal City. I'nder their direction it
was carefully raised and Opened.
Within lay the skeleton of a young girl,
with the remains of the linen in which she
had been wrapped, some brown leaves
from the myrtle wreath with which, em
blematic of her youth, she hail been crown
ed in death.
On her hands were four rings, of which
| one was the double betrothal ring of plain
gold, anil another with Filetus, the name
of her betrothed engraved upon it. A large
and most exquisite amethyst brooch, in
Etruscan setting of the finest work, carved
amber pins, and a gold necklet with white
small pendants were lying about.
Hut what is most strange, as being al
most unique, wasY doll of oak wood, beau
tifully carved, the joints articulated so that
so that legs and arms and hands move in
sockets, the hands anil feet daintily cut
with small aud delicate nails. The feat
tires and the hair were carved out in the
most minute and careful way. the hair
waving low on the forehead, and being
bound with a fillet.
On the outside of the sarcophagus was
sculptured her name, Tryphiena Creperia.
and a touching scene, doubtless faithfully
representing her parting with her parents.
She is lying on a low bed, and striving to
raise herself on her left arm to speak to her
heart-broken father, who stands leaning
on her bedstead, his head bowed with grief,
while her mother sits on the bed, her head
covered, weeping.
It seems but yesterday, so natural is the
scene, and yet it was nearly 18 centuries
ago that these stricken parents laid so ten
derly away their tenderly-loved daughter,
with her ornaments and her doll.
A Goose Story.
A young man over iu Hrushvalley town
ship was desperately in love with a farmer's
daughter. She reciprocated the tender
passion, but her father was sullen and ob
durate. aud gave the young man to under
stand in the most emphatic terms that if
lie ever entered that house it would be at
his peril. He would, he said, "kick the
daylight out of him." One night recently,
when the old gentleman had gone to In
diana to be absent over night, the young
man took advantage of his absence to visit
the daughter. They were sitting in the
front room, both beaming with joy. It
was nearly midnight.
Presently the daughter heard a noise
which she recognized as her father's foot
steps. There was a bed in the room, and
the girl drew back the calico curtains and
told the young man to hustle under. lie
did so. She had forgotten to tell him that
there was a goose under there engaged in a
motherly effort to hatch out a dozen young
goslings. Scarcely had the young man
gotten himself securely stowed away.when
the girl's father entered. Just about this
time the old goose made a hissing noise,
drew back its long neck, and Struck the
already frightened intruder a smart blow
on the left ear. nipping a piece out. That
was enough. He was sure he had been
bitten by a snake, aud. with a blood curd
ling yell, the young man rushed from his
hiding-place screaming at the top of his
voice;
•■Snake! Snake! I'm bit by u snake!
and 1 don't care who knows it!"
Aud the clandestine lover made a break
for the door, and ran home with furious
speed, yelling at every jump.
The old man was at first very much
startled at the strange apparition, but he
soon realized the situation, and both him
self anil daughter laughed heartily.—
I'unxsutatciuy Spirit.
—Early apple butter is in market.
A SERMON'.
He wrote her yearning, burning words. I
Itut when his love had wilted.
He left the maid dissolved in tears
Among the weary jilted.
Hut soon a lawyer came her way —
Oil him her heart now dotes—
He helped her raise full fifty thou.
Oil t'other follows' notes.
MORAL.
For woman full of woe and fury
Would*t find an instant cure?
A lawyer, letters uud a jury.
Vou'll find the inetlii»d sure,
A ml to young men we'd say as we
Have said to tish, "don't bite;"'
When vou are head o'er heels iu love
DON'T WRITE.
SOCIETY EVENT IN WYOMING.
They lit and fit,
And* gouged aud bit.
And scuttled iu the mud,
I'util the grottud
For three miles 'round.
Was kivered with their bind;
Aud piles of noses, ears and eyes,
Rose like pyr'mids to skivs.
Agricultural.
Buckwheat, seeded down now. will kill
out the weeds. When it begins to blossom
plow it under and seed down to rve.
It is work thrown away to kill out weeds
iu the field aud allow them to go seed in
the fence corners. As a rule the garden at
this season is the hot-bed of weeds
The toad is a valuable assistant to the
farmer iu keeping down insects, but it
sometimes destroys ichneumon flies and
carniveron* beetles, which are friends to
the farmer.
I rees for the garden should be well cut
back. For the field they should be cut
back in u manner to allow for horse culti
vation when the trees begin to bear. Cut
ting back tho peach the first two years
makes the tree very stocky and compact.
All insects are not -nemies. Some of
them are the best friends the farmers have.
Spiders, wasps, dragon flies and other in
sec ts that are injurious. There are also
other numerous parasites that greatly as
sist in destroying insects.
The colons bed will thiekeu and thrive
better if frequently cut back and trimmed.
Ihe cuttings cau be used for new bests.
Simply stick the ends of the cuttings in
the ground, keep them moderately moist
and they will take root aud grow in a few
days
A small amount of crude carbolic acid
(about a tablespoonful in a gallon of soap
suds) poured in the sink-hole wiil destroy
foul odors and also prevent the propogation
of flies, as the acid destroys the maggots.
The soap-suds assist in preserving the am
monia of the sink.
A dozen cucumber vines will produce an
enormous crop of pickles if looked over
daily and the small cucumbers picked off.
They grow so rapidly, thai a delay of one
day will sometimes render them too large
for use. If picked over earefully the vines
will continue to bear until frost.
I)o not attempt to save the seed of pump
kins, melons squashes unless the vines for
that purpose are grown at a distance from
all other varieties of the same family. The
pollen of such plants is carried quite a
distance by the winds, and also by insects.
Two or more varieties will fertilize the
blossoms of each.
It is reported that persons are using paris
green on cabbage as a remedy for the cab
bage worm. It is dangerous to do so. The
leaves of cabbages, during growth, eover
the poison, and there may be danger when
the cabbages are used in proper precau
tions not lieing taken to thoroughly wash
them. If the growers use the poison the
s ales will fall off. owing to the distrust
created.
Corn in the glazing stage makes the best
fodder. If cut when the ear is hard the
stalk is then (to a certain extent) woody,
and if cut very young before the ears are
formed, the stalk abounds in water and is
lacking in nutrition. When the ear is about
filled and beginning to glaze the cutting of
the corn at that stage arrests the nutritive
elements in the stalks, and the fodder is
then equal to hay. being fed to stock with
the ears on tho stalk or ?ut np in the cut
ter.
DRAISISO. THE FABM The necessity
for thorough drainage is made more appar
ent at this season than during any prev
ious time, as the continued rains do not al
low the ground to dry and become warm.
To economize by not providing outlet* for
surplus water is to entail a lorn in the
crops. While all crops require moisture
and are benefitted by it. too much moit
turc is injurious. Drainage does not de
prive the plants of moisture, but permits
of surplus water passing off. This can lie
done by open ditches, by "blind" ditches
(diJned by covering the ditches by boards,
over which earth is thrown) stone ditches
or drain tile (laid under ground). The
tile drainage is the best, as the supply is
carried off rapidly, and no ditches are in
the way of cultivation.
When the tiles are properly laid, and
empty into a natural stream or other water
course it drains the land downward, in the
same manner that light sandy lands are
drained. While much of the surplus water
may flow off the surface, the ground be
comes thoroughly saturated when there in
abundant rain, the result being that until
the water sinks down the soil remains cold
and plants do not grow rapidly. Much of
the water in tho soil finds its way to the
surface by capillary attraction and evapor
ates, at the expense of a great loss of the
warmth of the soil. When the water is
carrried off from below that nearest the
surface follows it down, and in so doing
can create a vacuum in the soil, which is
filled by particles of air, doe to atmospher
ic pressure. As the air enters it net only
warms the soil but assists in reUining
warmth that is absorbed by the soil itself
from the direct rays of the sun. In this
manner the roots of the plants are invigor
ated, the soil becomes more porous, and
the air and luoistnre exert a beneficial in
fluence on the growing j>lants.
Drainage mitigates the effects of drought
bv permitting the roots of plants to extend
deeper into the soil. As the excess of
moisture is carried off and the subsoil dries,
a larger field is open to the action of the
roots, aud they at once go as far down as
possible. During the dry season the plants
find moisture below and endure the drought
much better than do those plants growing
on an undrained soil. The soil being wann
ed as well as disintegrated to a great depth
by action of air, heat and frost it is in finer
condition, permits of a supply of moisture
to plants during the drought by capillary
attraction and the surface soil is less liable
to bake and become hard, lience draining
is beneficial during both wet and dry sea
sons.
All plants aud tiees consume water in
large quantities. Kir John Laws discover
ed that an acre of barley will take np 1,
(•94 tons of water in two days. Trees and
plants are composed more largely of water
than auy other substance. The branch of
a tree will lose nine tenths of its weight
by drying.
Says the Horsrman: Watch the black
smith and do not allow him to burn the
hoof with n hot shoe because it is easier to
do this than to trim or file the hoof smooth.
Hurning ruins the wall of the hoof so that it
will not retain the shoe so long, besides
rendering it so brittle that a heavy strain
on it will cause it to break; and if the shoe
comes off on the road the hoof is likely to
go pieces before you can reach the shop.
—A wide-awake down-town barber has
has amended bis sign thus: "Cupping,
bleeding and elixing.**
—An ungrammatical lady wearing very
tine clothes stunned a Chestnut street phar
macy a day or two since with the inquiry
for "Elixir of High Life."
Though we have said good bye,
Clasped hands and parted ways, "my dream
and I,
There still is beauty on the earth and glory
in the sky.
The word has not grown old
With foolish hopes, nor commonplace nor
cold,
Nor i- there auy tarnish on the happy har
vest gold.
NO. 4 2