Y<>\. VXVI
T©HMI&MO. * ■*
P-,
Our Spring goods which comprises the latest novelties at
tainable, in Foreign and Domestic markets,
HA V E A. Ft RIV ED.
As it i« a consideration of all gentlemen who desire to
dress well, what to wear lor Spring, and where he shall pur
chase, we invito you to inspect our immense stock, and you can
readily select some thing uitahle.
See Our Window Display.
THE VERY PEOPLE WHO|
HAVE THE LEAST MONEY| Are your wages small.
TO SPEND ARE THE ONES j Are ynu tl,e °' "
I family?
OUR HELIABLE CLOTHING j ' „ , ~ ....
With marketing bills
ftVEANS WOST TO larjje?
With house rent a drag on you?
TAIW prices ibr honest, long-wearing < lulling will be a
boon to y< ur pocket-lxiok and your bacK.
Get an Iron-clad Cloth at Sl'J.
Suit we know of. Nobody else sells it.
Get .1. N i'\TTßl»SOft\S Cloth Suit at £lO. Ft r dress
ami everyday wear combined it'.- wonderful value.
No matter how fine a suit you want lbr dress or business
we have that at a low price.
There is U'» open question about Roys' Clothing. We are
not only pioceers, but to day's leaders in styles and qualities
highest excellence and lowest prices.
Kernelnber the place.
J. N. PATTERSON'S.
One Price Clothing House,
29 S. MAIN ST.. BUTLER, PA.
THE
Great Fair
Now Ready F or
VISITORS.
Wonderful Display
FALL AND WINTER
Dross Goods, Trimmings, Sluiwls, \\ raps,
and all kinds of Fancv and
Furnishing Goods.
C a»rpet fE».
Oil Cloths, Mattings, Rugs, Arc.
BLANKETS, FLAN
NELS, YARNS, &c.
An i iiimense Stock at the Lowest Prices
Ever Advertised.
RITTER & RALSTON S.
FASHION EMPORIUM.
We must confess ourselves completely surprised at the waj our poods
Lave been selliDp. On the 6th we opened the largest stock we had ever
brought to Hutler. On the 20th our shelves were as bare as Mother Hub
bard's celebrated cupboard, and necessitated an entire re stocking at once.
To-morrow we open the fresh lot, and there is nothing of the showman's
talk about in our warning jou to come at once; it is the truth, from the way
our poods are sel.'ini;. Whether wo sell because of cheapness, or (|tiality of
goodt-; whether becau.-e of the quantity to select from or the knowing-how
to-suit customers: whether from any or all of them, is for your eyes aud
judjrnifnt to decide—that we do the business is not doubted. ,
.luct a moment for a word or two on our latest novelties. The newest
thing in dress trimmings is the Surah S>ish, very wide, and very handsome.
We have a liue stock, at moderate prices. They are beautiful.
Direetoire 4lats are beiug worn a great deal, aud they are very becom
ing to almost any face and 6gure. Our slock is unsurpassed and would cer
tainly suit the tastes of the most fastidious
Our (tinip and Laces for dress trimmings are quite in keeping with the
exu-nt of our stock in other lines. We have everything worth showing
The price, too, is what tells. While never for a momeut sacrificing quality
to rbeapness, (for our reputation is built on this very thing) we endeavor to
supply the lx»st in the market at the most reasonable price. Remember that
Miss M. H. Gilkey,
THE LEADING MILLINER,
NO.<iv» S. MAIIN ST,
BARGANS in WATCHES,
Clocks,
Jewelry
And silverware.
Finest stork of Sterling Silverware in the county
and nt prices not to be equalled for cash.
\\ atclies and Clocks repaired and warranted, at
J. H. GHIEIi'S
IS* t». 10 Alain. (Sign of ELEfTttic BEI.I.),
butosr, PA.
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
HORSE AILMENTS.
. . Kcponsct, 111.,
May 20,1558.
My mare caught
cold; result: swelled
limbs; lump between
y,m fore legs and inf.am
",§ff ciation. Cured her
JtMflt,i \V i with Et. Jacobs Oil.
sM" L °' GAKDN ER
Winsboro, Tex.,
rzt'i '*' ' }"&?? horso was hurt
f tzT on hind leg: suffered
10 months; was cared by Pt Jacobs Oil; cure
has remained permanent. W. J. CLINK.
JOS. CAIRN PIMPSOX, Esq., Pec. Tafifis
Coast Blood-llorso Association, sayi: "Being
familiar with the remarkable efficacy of St.
Jacobs Oil, I rheerf\i!li» and heartily indorse
this valuable speciiio for painful ailments."
Hon. ODKX BOWIE. Ex-Governor of Mary
land. Jockey Ciub, I'rcst. City raja. Railway
Co., says: "In my family and my stables I
have used St. Jacobs Oil with satisfactory
result---, and believe it the best remedy for lh«
j>aiii?«l ailments of man and bea.st."
AT DHCOOISTS AND T)KAT.FP.».
THE CHARLES A. VOGELER CO.. Baltimor*, M 4.
EI)UCA r rLON L
INDIANA NORMAL SCHOOL,
IMiIASA. I'A.
Indiana is nsi hool abrenst or the times. No
t (Torts .ire litlng spitred to make II the leading
professional training school in the country.
The facility 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
/ \ SHIMS l'h.l> . I'rin. ! |ial.
Curry Business College.
( l ltltv I NIVERSITY.
SIXTH STKEKT. I-ITTSItI Rl.'.
The bi st liiiulpped and most successful Busi
ness < <•liege In l'enn'a. Individual Instruction
for everv student from 9 A.M. till 4P. M.. and
I r«>M 7 till ID P.M. Actual Business Practice
and Practical iiuiikiji<.' are Specialties. The best
advantages In shorthand and Type-writing.
The University also sustains lull regular cour
ses ot study in the classical. Scientific, Semina
ry. Normal, Music and Elocutionary Depart
ments. correspondence solicited. Send for
catalogues.
4A JIKS ( LABK W ILI.IAMS, A. M„ Prest.
HIRAM COLLEGE.
II Irani. <>. Thorough Classical. Philosophical
and Scientific courses. Also a Biblical course
and a ■: years' course e specially to prepare
Teachers for their work. Much attention given
to preparatory studies. New and commodious
buildings. I'ine Ladles' Hall under care of
l.adv Principal. Location high and very health
ful. No s;ilcons. E.\| ens<s ver\ low. Next
term begins Sept. 17, lss9. For Catalogue and
Informal lon address,
E. V. ZOM.AKS. President.
Washington k Jeffersoii
Collets Washington, Prima,
The s:>t!i year begins Sept. 11. ( laslcal, Scien
tllic and Preparatory Departments. For infor
mation concerning Preparatory Department ap
plv to PUOF. J. ADOLPH S( IIMITZ, Prlllj, lor
Catalogue or oilier information to PItEST
MOFFAT.
BEAVER COLLEGE
young -rlrl.-> and young ladles. Beaver. Pa. Most
fully equipped Ladles and Music School in
Western l'enn'a. Thirty-fifth year and no
death, lb ill liful and beautiful location. Pop
ular rates. Only Hitv boarders received. Send
for catalogue. It. T. TAI I.OK Pres.
TWO CHOICE SCHOOLS.
BROOKE HALL,
For Girls and Young Ladies.
Short lidge Media
Academy,
For Boys and Young Men,
SWITHIN C 3HORTLIDGE, A M
(HARVARD GRADUATE.)
MEDIA, PA., (Near Philadelphia.)
J. E. Kjistor,
Practical Slate Roofer.
Ornamental and Plain Slating
Of all kinds done oil short notice.
Ollice with W. 11. Morris
7, N. Main St., Residence
North Elm street,
tin tier, Pa.
Willard Hotel,
W. 11. liEllllNli, Prop'r
BUTLER, -
STABLIKFL IN CWmcnflK.
SAMPI.K BOOM I'orCOSIMKBCIAL TIiAVKLKBS
SAMPLKKOOM. LIVKI!\ IN CONNECTION
Hotel Vogeley
(Strictly First Class.)
IIEXRYL. BECK, PROP'R.
J. H. FAUDF.L, Manager. Butler, Pa.
Diamond : - : Hotel,
Fronting Diamond, Hutler, Pa.
TIIOMAS WASSOX, Pro'r.
Good rooms, good meals, stabling in con
nection, everything first class.
IITENMHLUB HQfEL,
No. 88 and 90, S. Main St.,
BUTLER, - - P^Y.
Near New Court House—formerly Donaldson
House—{rood accommodations lor travelers.
Good stabling connected.
U-9- si; lyi 11 EiTENMUI LEK, Prop'r.
INIXONS HOME,
sr. N. MCKEAN s r.. BUTLEII. PA.
Meals at all hours. Open all night.
Breakfast 23 cenl s.
Dinner 2."> cents.
Supper UT. cents,
Lodging 25 cents,
SIMEON NIXON - - - PKOP'R.
WIIEN YOU
VISIT PITTSBURGH
CALL OX
JOHN R. & A. MURDOCH,
s Snilthlteld street, for Trees, Seeds. Lilies,
rape Mnes. liardy 1 loses, Canary lilrds.tiold
tilsh. etc.
Descriptive Fall Catalougo mailed free.
2f-. t C 52 Ai.ao. htoemmln*
Wit i' .f. l 8 .j , ,ofot!a.i citiiriit ts
jan adv !)>. »!►.« in clucogo, will find it on fi'« 11
. LORD & THOMAS.
A CHILD'S QUESTION.
BY MAY F. MCKEAX.
In a mansion grand and stately.
On a wide and handsome street.
Lived a man of vast possessions.
With his little daughter sweet,
lie had lots in many a city.
He had houses by the score.
He hail broad aud rolling acres,
And a dwelling by the shore.
And he oft would tell his daughter.
As she sat with wojdering eyes,
Of their worth an* of their beauty.
'Till before her thoughts did rise
Visions of their wondrous beauty.
And of all their wondrous worth;
Till the child-mind almost fancied
That there was as yet on earth
Xot a state and not a country
Where her father did not own
Lands and Farms, and stately mansions
Fruits of labor he had sown.
But into this home of comfort
Came a sorrow as a cloud:
Death wdl neither stay nor tarry
At the mandate of the proud.
Rich and poor, the high and lowly.
Each must answer to his call.
Enters he the meanest hovel.
As he does the stateliest hall;
And this man of vast possessions
In his costly chamber lay,
Resting on a bed luxuriant.
Wasting by disease away.
Skilled physicians waited on him.
Loving lips pressed cheek aud brow,
But the utmost skill aud learning
Could not change the verdict now.
Then one day, the learn'd physician
Called aside the little child.
Tenderly he stroked her tresses,
Spoke in accents low and mild:
"Do _vou know, my little darling.
That your father soon must go
To a far-off. far-off country—
Little darling, do you know."
Opened then the eyes in wonder,
With a sudden, strauge surprise;
Then with tears and fears and trem
bliug,
To her father's side she flies—
Climbs upon the bed beside him.
Lays her head close to his cheek.
In a sudden, dreadful anguish
That will scarcely let her speak.
Then she thinks ol'all his mansions—
(if th" lands so broad aud fair.
Of the homes that must await him,
And their beauty rich and rare.
Slowly now her head she raises.
Gone the sorrow aud the fear:
Once again she smiles, then, laughing,
Dashes from her eyes a tear,
As she asks in accents tender:
"Papa, tell me, I would know.
Do you own a lovely mansion
In the land where you must go?
Doctor told me all about it—
How that you must go awav
To a far-off, far-off country;
Have you there a mansion; say?
For the going will be pleasant
And you need not have a care.
If it is to your own mansion,
In that far-off land so fair."
Then that stricken father faltered.
For although he'd built with care
Many a fine and stately dwelling,
He had yet no mansion there.
What to him were now the acres
With their wealth of golden grain?
What to him were farms and houses?
What toTiTni was earthly galnt
Whit'to him, now ho lay dying.
Were the many mansions hero,"
He must leave them all forever—
Ami IK- lititl n» Mansion there.'
—Xational Jlaptixt.
The Convict's Daughter.
A TRI E STOfIV
It was early morning.
"Is this the way, sir, to Sing Sing?"
'Yes," roughly replied a broad-faced
countryman and passed on.
It was afternoon. The child was some
what fragile iu her appearance. Her bon
net was of broken straw, her shoes were
much torn; the sun played hotly ou her
forehead. She walked on and on an hour
longer.
"Is this tho way to Sing Sing, sir?"
"Yes, little girl, but what are 3-011 going
there for?"
Tho child trudged on, her lips quivering,
but not deigning to answer the pleasant
faced old luau who had stopped the jog
ging of bis horse to note her hurried man
ner, and who liked that little face, anxious
and sad us its expression was.
The dew was fallen. Katie had fallen
too, almost. A rough stone by the way,
imbedded in moss, received her tired little
frame. She looked so worn and tired, sit
ting there, her tangled hair failing on her
hands that were clasped over her face. By
the shaking of her frame the tears weio
coming too, and she was bravely trying to
hold them back.
"Why. what is the dear little girl doing
here?" The exclamation came from a pair
of young lips.
"A curiosity, I declare!" exclaimed a
harsher voice, aud Katie, looking up sud
denly, cowed away from the sight of the
young lady and her agreeable looking com
panion.
"Whatever arc you doing here, little
girl?" asked Xell Maywood, moving a little
nearer towards the frightened child.
"Going. Miss, to Siug Sing," said Katie.
"Why George! this child is going to Sing
Sing—ton miles oil'. Child, did you know
it was so far off.'"
Katie shook her bead, and wiped awaj
the hot tears, one by one.
"Why, you little goose, what are going
to Sing Sing for? Have you had your sup
per?"
Katie shook her head.
"Have you had any dinner?"
Again the child shook her head.
"Xo breakfast. Why, George, tho poor
thing must be almost starved!"
"I should think so,"mechanically replied
her brother, just recovering from a
yawn, and showing signs of sympathy.
"Look here, what's your name? Well
girl, you must come up to the house and
got something to eat. Follow me, anil we
will take care of you to-night somehow,
and see about your going to Sing Sing to
morrow."
Katie followed. What a glorious vision
burst upon her view! The palatial house;
the rocks reddening in the low western
sun; the shining river; the signs of luxury
ou every hand.
"Susan, give this child a good supper;
she is hungry and tired, too, I imagine.
After that I will sec what can be done for
her."
Susan wore a mild face. She looked
pleasantly down at the poor, tired little
one, and taking her hand, which trembled
now, led her into the kitchen.
Meanwhile her story, or that brief part
of it which we know, was being told in the
drawing-room. The sylph-like figure iu
white, lounging gracefully in the midst of
delicate cushions, accompanied her narra
tion with expressive gestures, and now and
then a little laugh.
BUTLER, PA., FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER G, 1880
"1 should like to know what she is going
to Sing Sing for!" she said, leaning lan
guidly back. "We must look her up some
thing to wear—a bonnet, a pair of shoes
; and then maybe we can manage to have
lier carried some distance. Oh! such au
: odd little thing."
"Who is that, my daughter!"
"Oh. pupa, you have come home! Why
1 was talkiug about a little mite of a child;
she can't be more than ten. if that. I saw
her out here sitting on a moss rock, the
most forlorn object. She says she is going
to Sing Sing."
"I met her on my way." said the pleas
j ant-faced old man, "she asked me about
j it, but she trudged on. Where is she? It
was noon when I saw her."
•In the kitchen, papa. Susan is taking
good care of her 1 think, and when she has
had a hearty supper we will talk with hor."
A gay trio of young girls came in. The
nettings were put up. the gas was burning
brightly, and music and mirth banished
all thoughts of care. Suddenly Nell May
wood remembered the odd little figure aud
clapping her hands, cried, "Oh, I've some
thing to show you girls!" and disappeared.
Susan was picking gooseberries near the
pantry in the kitchen.
"Where is the child. Susief" asked Xel 1
Maywood.
"On the doorstep. Miss."
"Why, no, Susan, there's nobody to be
seen."
"N'o! Miss." Susan placed her pan down,
I held her apron up to catch the stems of the
berries aud walked deliberately to the
door.
Why, she sat there sometime after sup
per. I turned and cainc in; she was sit
ting theie, looking np. at the stars 1 ex
pect. 1 thought she was a mighty quiet
child, but she's deep, deep. Miss Nelly;
she's gone. Let me see, there ain't any
silver around—l should be afeared she'd
took something: they're mighty artful."
"Why didn't you tell her she might stay
all night.'" Xell Maywood was peeping
here and there to spy her it possible.
"Yes, Miss Nell, aud told her what a
good bed there was over the woodshed,but
she looked strauge out of them large eyes
of hers."
"The poor child is iu trouble," said Xell,
quite sorrowful that she could not farther
relieve her necessities. "I'd have given
her something to wear, and we could have
sent her to Sing Sing; and perhaps she
will she will come back again—if so, will
you send her to me?"
"If she do, I will. Miss," answered Su
san, going at the gooseberries a?ain.
But little Kate did not come back. She
hail been watching her opportunity to get
off, and had already been gone sometime.
She slept in an open field; crawled in some
hay; she would have walked all night if she
dared, but she was afraid of the dark.
"Mr. Warden, there's a queer ease over
at my house," said a bluff looking fellow,
meeting the warden of Sing Sing prison.
"We found her last night iu some out-of
the way place, aud nothing would do but
my wife must take her in. We can't find
out her name except that it's Kate,and I ex
pect that she wants to see somebody in prison.
But we eau't get anything out of her—where
she's come from or anything about it."
"Bring her over here," said the warden
—"my wife is wanting a little girl for help;
maybe she's just the one."
So Kate stood, trembling more thau ev
er, in a few moments,in the presence of the
warden aud jailer. Kate was a pretty
child. Her large blue eyes wore au ex
pression of intense melancholy; her hair had
been nicely combed and curled, .-uid some
one had put a good pair of shoes on her
feet.
"Well, my little girl," said the warden,
kindly—for he was prepossessed in her fa
vor —"where have you come from?"
"New York," said the child faintly.
The men looked at each other incredu
lously.
"Do you mean to say that you have
come to Sing Sing from Xew York on foot?"
"Yes. sir." said the child, frightened at
his manner, which had in something of
severity.
"And what have you coinc for?"
"To see my father." The child burst
forth with one great sob, and for a moment
her little frame was shaken with a tempest
of feeling.
"Aud who is your father?" asked the
warden, kindly.
"He is Mr. Lloyd," said tho child, as
soou as she could speak for her rushing
sobs.
The warden look ed at the jailer.
"Lloyd; there are three Lloyds here —
.Tim. Bondy and Dick" said the jailer
"That may not bo their proper names,"
responded the warden.
"That's so." said the jailer, "but I can
try 'em all. Little one, was your father's
name Jim?"
The child nodded her head, or they
thought she did; she was all convulsed
with the reaction brought on by the termi
nation of her journey.
"If it's Jim he's a bad one," said the jail
er, in a low voice; "he's iu irons this morn
ing for 'tempting to break jail; he dou't de
serve a little gal like that one, the villiau.
Come, child, I'll go and find your father."
He took Katie's shaking hand; with the oth
er be dashed away the tears s fast as they
fell. It frightened her almost into calmness
to seethe ponderous door at which the jailer
applied the great key. and the stillness of
long stone passages; the dimness thrown
over all, the constant succession of bars
and bleak, black walls were terrible to a
sensitive mind like hers. How the heavy
tread of the jailer, and the tread of the
warden behind him, echoed through the
gloom aud the space! It was, in truth, a
great tomb through which they moved—
a tomb in which were confined liviug
hearts— whose throbs could almost be
heard in the stillness. On, on they went,
now through that passageway.— Every
thing spoke of crime—of fierce passions
subdued and held in stem control—every
thing, from the grim face of the ferocious
watchdog to the sentinels armed.
Then they turned and went up the stairs,
the jailor holding the scared bird close to
his side with a tender clasp, the warden
following. Another tramp, and at last
they came to a standstill. The jailer rap
ped at a cell door. Slowly the figure of a
mau. with a harsh, hair-covered face, ap
peared.
"Little girl! you're green," said the man
in glum accents. "I've got no little girl,
or you would'nt catch me here."
"Father," said the childish voice. It
sounded so sweet, so childish, in that ter
rible prison. But as the scowling face
came close to the bars, the child bid her
head quickly in the jailer's arm, half sob
bing, it wasn't him.
"We'll try the next one."
He walked farther on atut spoke more
pleasantly this time:
"Well, Bondy, here is little Kate: don't
you want to see her?"
"Little Katie " there was a long
pause, "I had a Kate once—not a little
Katie; I broke her heart—God pity ine! Go
011 it can't be lor me.
Again the sweet voice rang out:
"Father."
The prisoner came up close to the bars;
a youthful face, framed with light wavy
hair—a face that it seemed a sin to couple
with a foul deed, gazed out. It wan a
child's earnest pleading, tearful eyes: a
dark expression rolled like u wave across
his brow: a groan came up from his bosom,
and with a low moan he staggered ajrainst
his bed; crying:
"Take her away; I eau't >tauil the sight
of anything pure like that."
Katie had hidden her face a second lime
a- she feebly cried,"lt isn't hitn:" so
they kept on to the third cell.
"Jim here's a little girl—little Katie,
your daughter, wants to see you."
A stupid "what?" came from the bed;
the man who had probably jnst awakened.
"Your little daughter."
There was a sound of rattling irons that
made the girl shiver. Dimly appeared the
face and outlines of a well-made man—the
countenance haudsomo but evil. He seem
ed not to comprehend. But as fast as the
chaius would permit him. he came forward
and looked at the anxious face below.
With a loud convulsive cry she exclaim
ed: "Father! lather!" and fell nearly
senseless against the jailer.
" Katie!" exclaimed the man, and there
was a nervous twitching about the muscles
of the mouth: "Whatever has brought her
here?"
Th e jailer was calling the child to con
sciousness.
"Shall we let her come in the cell?" ask
ed the warden.
dim was dashing his hand across his
face. A smothered "Yes," issued from his
lips. They opened the ponderous door
and put the child within. Her arms were
outstretched, his were wide open, and they
came together with a clanking sound, to
gether ab <ut the form of that poor little
child.
"Oh. father!"
"Oh, Katie. Katie!" aud then there was
a quiet crying. By-and-by the man lifted
the little head, whose glossy curls were
falling on his shoulders, and oh! what a
sharp rattle of chains smote on the ear,
and looked in her face. After a moment's
irresoulution he kissed her, and then his
eyes fell under her earnest loving look.
"Katie, what made you come?"
"Wanted to see you, father," and the
head was on his shoulder again.
"How did you come, Katie?" Xever
mind the noise, they are locking; they will
be here again and let you out. How did
you come, Katie?"
"I walked here"."
"From Xew York, child?"
"Yes, tather."
There was no sound save that of the
chains, as he strained her closer to his bo
som.
"And how did you leave —her, Katie—
your mother?"
The question was fearfully asked, but
not responded to. He gazed eagerly in the
child's face; her little lip was quivering.
"Katie, tell me quick!"
"She died, father."
A groan, a terrible groan followed; the
man's head fell in the lap of the child, and
he wept with strong cries. The jailer and
the warden said that they never saw a sight
so woeful. And the child tried to comfort
him. till his strength seemed to be gone
and his sobs were like gasps.
"Oh, Katie, when did she die? Oh. my
poor May! my poor girl!"
"Ever so long ago. I think; ever so
mauy weeks," replied the child; "but she
told me come and see you and comfort
you."
"Oh. this is hard: very hard: she always
forgave me."
"She told me to pray for you, too; she
told me to ask you would you be real good
after von came out, and meet her in Heav
en."
"In Heaven! I in Heaven?" groaned the
man, giving way in his agony. The child
was angel-guided. Her soft touch was
better for his soul's good than the stripes
aud the chains. He had been hardened;
her little love melted down the adamant;
had found the good locked up in his na
ture, and she had sent her sweet smiles
through its prison door.—Long he sat
there, his head in the lap of his beautiful,
(juiet child. Xone dared disturb him; jail
er and warden walked to and fro.
"Father, when you come out, I'll take
care of you."
He lifted his bead; his eyes, red with
weeping, were fastened on her face.
"Mother said I might."
"God's blessing on you. my precious
child; you may save your miserable father
yet!"
"I will, father."
Fun With the Old Man.
He was a meek-looking old gentleman
from the country, and as lie took his seat
at the dining-room table the drummers
looked at him over their soup-spoons.
They noted his weather-beaten face, his
wet hair carefully parted aud brushed
arou.id over his ears, and his air of diffi
dence as he nervously fiugered his fork;
and when the waiter girl stood at bis side
and winked at the boot-and-shoc man they
were all attention.
"Soup?" she asked.
The old man seemed a bit snrprised at
the brevity of the bill of fare, and fidgeted
about as though waitiug for her to say
something more.
"Would you like some soup?" said the
girl, with a side glance at the coffee and
spice man.
"I ain't particular about soup as I know
of," answered the old man.
"Boil' mutt'n, cappersauce, roas' beef,
r's' lamb, rV veal, fricassee chiek'n. cole
ham-tongue, chiek'n salad, fritters ,boil'n'
baked p'tatus," said the girl with lightning
like rapidity.
The old man looked kind of hepless, and
the boys felt a little sorry for him as he
kept his eyes fastened on the fork, which
he shoved from side to side with his lin
gers.
"I guess I'll take —1 guess j-ou'll have to
say that again," he said, looking up, aud
the girl rattled the whole thing off iu ex
actly the same time as before.
The old man looked arouud the table and
caught sight of a drummer winking at the
girl. Then he jerked his head around, and
looking her straight in the face, he said:
"You may ginune s'm bile corubeef 'u'
cabbage, roas' beef, veal 'n' mutton, cole
chiek'n 'n' codfish cakes 'n' sassage 'n'
beefsteak V a piece o' pumkin pie 'n' cup
o' coffee, sis, 'n' now see ef yer kin make
yer little legs fly "s fast as ye kin yer ton
gue, for I wauter git home; there's a show
er comiu' up."
The girl hesitated, turned red, and then
made a break for the kitchen, while the
drummers laughed aud the old man gazed
out of the window at the gathering cloud.
Tho Vowels.
Xickleby—What are the vowels?
Squeers—A, e, i, o, u.
X. —Xow say theni again, dropping oil'
the first one.
S. —E, i, o, u.
X.—Xow once more, dropping off the
second one.
S.—l, o, u.
X.—l know you do, and I wish to thun
der you'd pay up
—Want of principle is the principal want
of some people.
—A» the butcher adds his hand to the
weight of the steak, he piously sighs to
himself. I love to steal, a while, a weight.
An Orthodox Man.
Arkansas Traveler.]
A luau wearing the of a tire
some journey dismounted from a jaded
horse at the door of a cabin near the Ar
kansas line of the Indian Territory, and.
speaking to an obi fellow who advanced to
meet him. said:
"My friend. I am worn out and am hun
gry. Can you give me shelter and -oine
thing to eat?"
"I dunno 'xauUy, but we mout, as sich
things have been did before. Whut's yo'
name?"
"Marcus White."
"Ah, hah! They call you Mark, I reck
on?"
"Yes."
"Wall, my name is Matthew, and I've
got a son named Luke and one named
John. All uv us tergether would make a
sort of gosple team wouldn't we?"
"Yes," said Mr. White, smiling. "But
the question now is. can I find accomoda
tion here?"
"Hitch yo' horse and come in. and we'll
sec about it."
When White went into the house a
shrunken woman, mumbling over her knit
ting. made room for him by shoving back
her chair without getting np. and a jute
haired child, with a hunk of corn bread iu
its hand, scrambled under the bed.
"Set down, Mr. Mark," said old Mat
thew. -Tildy, (addressing his wife) you
motit hnsslc around now nnd git this here
hougry man suthin* ter eat. You mout go
out thar and kill that old hen that's been
a setting fur two wevks on them pieces of
brickbats. Bile her long enough an' I reck
on we can chaw her."
The woman wiped her nose on her knit
ting and went out, and pretty soou there
arose the distressing cry of an old hen.
"Mr. Mark," said old Matthew,"Ton are
religions I hope."
"Yes. I try to be."
"Glad ter bear it, fur uobody but reli
gious folks can claim anything offen me.
You believe that Aaron made a steer outen
gold, dou't you?"
"Yes. a calf."
"Air you shore it was a calf?"
"I aui quite sure."
"Wall, then, we won't argy. All I
want is ter settle the fact uv yo' belief, fur.
ez I tell you, lam a religious man. dyed
in the wool and baptized in the feathers.
You believe that old 'Lisha made the he
bears eat up forty children, don't you?"
"They were she bears."
"Air you certain about that p'fut?"
"Yes, I am positive."
Wall, it don't make rio diffunee so long
as you believe it. Xow, lemmo see. It's
my habit, you understand, to investigate
these things. I wouldn't let au inferdel
stay in my house live minutes, if 1 knowed
it, fur uothin' in the world. You believe
that Moses split the sea, don't yon?"
"Yes."
"Glad—glad to know that you air a
Christian gentleman. But I hear my boys
Luke and John a-comiu". They've been
over inter Bucksnort County ter settle a
little diffikelty."
When the boys, two gaunt fellows, came
into the room the old man said: "Boys,
-this is Mr. Mark. Set down thar, an' tell
me how the thing came out. Did you find
old man Bender?"
"Yas suh," said oue of the boys.
"Whut did you do with him?"
"Tied him ter a tree."
"Good! Then what did you do?"
| |"We cut some hickories an' whipped
him."
"Good!" tiv old man exclaimed. "Did
he howl?"
"Bawled like er cow."
"Good! How many did you hit him?"
"Fifty."
"Fnstrate. Then what?"
"We left him tied thar."
"Fnstrate, Mr. Mark," he added, speak
ing to the guest, "tL it oughter teach him
a lesson."
"What had he done to deserve such pun
ishment?"
"Oh. he sued me tor a saddle 1 borrid
from him. Left him tied, eh? Fnstrate!"
They continued to talk, and the odor of
thi> boiling hen floated into the room. A
gathering cloud which all day had been
making threats burst into a downpour of
rain.
"Mr. Mark," said the host, "I wantcr ax
you another question. We must have a
little liberality, you know, cz well ez be
lief. Do you b'l'eve that Adam was made
outer dust?"
"Well, strictly speaking, I do not."
"What! don't believe that Adam was
made outer dust"
"To tell you the tmth, I do not.
"Wall, then, git outer this house right
smart: git right out."
"My dear sir, this rainstorm "
"Git out (springing to his feet) or I 11
hurt you. I don't want the lightniu' ter
strike my house jest because I've got an
inferdel here. Git out."
"Won't you give me a piece of that
chicken, please?"
"Not a speck. I ain't gwinc to give the
lightnin' the slightest excuse for business.
Xo inferdel harbored here. Git!"
Mr. Mari us White rode into the storm.
What's in a Name.
I have a girl—a gay coquette—
Whose name to me is Margaret. ,
A Frenchman, whom she calls her 'sweet,
Most always calls her Marguerite.
A Spaniard, evidently, "sweeter,
Addresses her as Margarita.
A Portuguese, and quite a leader
In drawing-rooms, says Margarida.
A chap from sunny Italy
Prefers to call her Marghery.
An awkward swain from Germany
Pronounces it "mein leih Mart/it ."
A dude, with trousers wide and baggy.
Seems to enjoy the pet name Maggy.
Another impecunious wag
Diminutively calls her Mag.
A park policeman, with a badge,
has christened her by name of Madge.
He took hor once to wituoss "Xadgy"
And, 'tween the acts addressed her Madgy.
Some call her Meg. some call her Meggy;
Some call her Peg, some call lier Peggy.
Aud some, tnoro vulgarly than witty.
Contemptuously call her Gritty.
But when she's hired as a IHrntt-madekru,
Her German mistress calls her <ir> trhrn.
—Considerable interest is now being
manifested as to the authorship of the fol
lowing beautiful aud ingenious poem en
titled "Hiawatha's Mittens." and the au
thor will greatly oblige the anxious public
by coming forward and pleading guilty:
He killed the noble Mndjokivis.
With tin; skin he made him mittens.
Made them with the fur side inside;
Made them with the skin side outside:
He to get the warm side inside.
Put the inside skin side outside.
He, to get the cold side outside.
Put the warm side fur side inside:
That's why ho put the fur side inside,
Why he put the skinside outside,
Why he turned them inside outside.
Whv he turned them outside inside.
The Lemons of the Street.
<>u the corner* we may CnJ them.
Or in cluster- here and there:
In the day time ..r the night time.
All along the thoroughfare;
' Standing idly and forgetting
They should earn the bread they eat,
i Are the many who are learning
All the lessons of the street.
In their homes i* naught inviting:
Poverty and want are there;
Wasting demons—thirsting ever—
Serve to keep the cupboard bare;
And the little babies wander
Ont of doors on toddling feet.
to leant the lessons taught them
Every honr upon the street.
Shame and Crime, thier ready pupils.
Here of every age may find:
Sons of wealth and rank, to evil
And to idleness inclined:
In the school of vile progressing.
They with base-born rogues compete.
Who have won a high distinction
Ftom their training in the street.
Maidens fresh iu youthful beauty.
Cherished in the heart aud home;
Dearly loved ones —vain and thoughtle.
| |Froa tbe fn . boMW t>> m>i
Knowing not the many dangers
And disasters they may meet.
By their every day attendance
On the lessons of the street.
Many a life that started bravely,
Full of promise, pride and zeal—
Stirred within by holy passion-
That the knavish never l'elt—
He has been overthrown in battle.
Led to sure and swift defeat.
By the poison and pollution
of the lessons of the street.
<>h. ye mothers, train your darlings
So to love their homes, that they
With the idle and the vicious
Will not ever go astray.
With a chain of strong affection
Hind them to the safe retreat,
I That their minds may not be tainted
By the lessons of the street.
Agricultural.
The New Wilmington tUobt says: It is
claimed by intelligent farmers in this sec
tion. who have given the different varieties
of seed wheat a thorough test, that the
i Foultz wheat, year in and year out, is the
I best that can be procured for this climate
and ground. It rarely ever fails.
They get at the real value of a cow in
Sussex county, X. J., by selling her at so
much a quart. The scheme is pronounced
by dairymen as the most equitable yet pro
posed in the sale of milch cows. The pur
chaser pays $2.50 per quart. Thus, if she
gives 20 quarts daily, she is worth *-> O. The
purchaser keeps the cow on trial for a
week.
I four farmer friends really want to rid
their neighborhoods of sheep killing dogs
they might try this plan, devised by a Vir
ginia farmer for this purpose. Having
suffered severely from the depredations of
dogs upon his sheep fold, he built around a
number of sheep that dogs had killed, an
inclosure of rails twelve feet high and
about ten feet square at the ground; the
sides of the trap sloped inward until an
opening was left about five feet square.
Any dog could easily climb a sloping fence
aud enter the pen. but not even a grey
hound eon Id jump ont of it. In three
nights the farmer captured forty-six dogs,
including fifteen or twenty that had never
been seen in that neighborhood before.
This, after there had been a public slaugh
tering of all dogs suspected of sheep-kill
ing, save one, whose master could not be
convinced of his guilt. The trap was built
for his benefit, and it caught him the first
night.
The destruction of fallen apples this sea
sou will greatly aid iu lessening the num
ber of insects next year.
Turkeys should be given full range, as
they destroy thousands of insects at this
season, when foraging.
Kerosene, applied as spray, on the walls,
roosts and floors of poultry houses will kill
the lice instantly, while the work can also
be done in a few minutes.
The cellar should be thoroughly cleaned
and disinfected now. The air should be
allowed to circulate freely, and a dusting
of freshly slaked lime given the floor.
Whenever the shoulders of a work horse
are galled the harness should be examined
to remove the cause. A horse in such con
dition should not be made to work until a
cure is made.
Reports of large yields of com from cer
tain new kinds should not induce farmers
to discard the old varieties, as the soil, ma
nure and climate arc the most important
factors that enter into the yield of a crop.
More butter is injured by keeping the
cream too long before churning than in any
other manner. The churning should be
performed as soon as the cream is ripe,
even if there i* only a small quantity to
churn.
Save the best stalks of corn from which
to procure seed, and when the seed is fully
matured select the best ears. Seed corn
should be allowed to thoroughly dry on the
stalk, and when harvested it should be
stored in a dry. warm place.
Tne cow soon becomes accustomed to
the milker, and if treated kindly will cease
giving evidence of vices. To strike her
places her in fear, aud she will seize
every opportunity to kick or move her po
sition. Milking should lie performed quiet
ly, the cow being given her food just be
fore beginning to milk.
Dalmatian insect powder, fresh, and kept
in air tight tin canisters, is the safest and
best remedy for the cabbage worm.
Sprinkle it on the cabbage and the worm
will be destroyed It very strongly re
sembles Scotch snuff. In every case kills
the white butterflies seen in the cabbage
fields.as the parents of the cabbage worms.
Next month grass seed may be sown,as it
will grow and become rooted before frost
thus getting ati early start in the spring.
For lawns a mixture of equal parts of Ken
tucky blue grass aud white clover are ex
cellent, as both varieties endure the
drought well. Weeds will be killed by the
lawn-mower next spring if the lawn is
mowed frequently.
It requires only a few red raspberry
plants to afford a large supply of fruit, and
the plants quickly become very thick in the
rows. The wood of the old canes is cut
out during the winter and new canes top j
ped in the spring. To have large, well- J
flavored raspberries use plenty <>t manure j
around the canes, and once a year give J
them an application ot wood ashes. An ,
occasional picking of fruit may be made
until frost, as the canes bear for
a much longer period than the
longer period of harvesting the fruit. Ihe
better the cultivation and the richer the
soil the larger the fruit.
HOMK-M AI>K FKHTILIZI KS.— The farm is.
to a certain extent, a manufactory. The ,
farmer can easily prepare fertilizers on the
farm at a reduced cost that will be of bet
<j i.iiity than ru be bought. C4uuid«ring
the esp.-ii . i.f transportation. bogging,
etc. Many Mit.-t.inco- that aro pri>cured
, on the uirket a fertilizers can be made
tn<>r«' ~or . it-.i .U -.a the farm by changing
them in compomtioo. The reduction of
bones and other -nfxtance-. that mu-t be
pure ha sod, permit- .if the utili.iUon of ma
terial.- a.- fertilizers thai can be only pro
cured on the farm.
If equal weights of bou«» and -uperpho*-
pbate be procured th«- latter will contain a
larger proportion of free phosphoric acid,
readily soluble. while the former will con
lain a larger proportion of combined phos
phoric acid. The farmer who desire* im
mediate r.'-rlts from the use of bone cannot
afford to wait until the bones slowly give
off their particles, and he is. as a rule. op
posed to the manufacture of superphos
phate on the farm, owing to the ilanger of
using sulphuric weid, which is necessary in
changing the insoluble bone into .-oluble
phosphoric a. id. but .as the compound* of
potash arc soluble (known a* - salts" the
bones may be reduced by changing them
into something else. Ilone lieing phi«-
phate of lime it is insoluble, but by con
verting it into phosphate of potash it be
comes a- available for plant lood as the
free phosphoric acid of superphosphate. To
do this the bone- are broken and packed in
a hogshead, barrel or cask, with an equal
weight of unbleached hardwood ashes. To
every 200 pounds of the mixture, twelve
pounds of dry lime and fifteen pounds of
carbniiate of od.» tua.-liiug .*oda> -hotiUl
be added, the whole intimately mixed,
when it should lie saturated with water
(urine and water is better) and kept moist.
The result will be soft and pasty, and there
will have occurred several chemical
changes and the formation of salts that
completely break u,i the original eombina
tions. the principal salt beiug phosphate of
potash, due to the phosphoric acid leaving
the limes ot' the bones and uniting with the
| potash. There will also exist in the mass
, carbonate cf lime and several salts of
monia. the only labor required alter filling
the hogshead being to keep the ingredients
moist.
If urine or fresh manure be added to
bones and ashes.and the masses kept moist,
heat will quickly be generated, and not
only will there be no 10-s of ammonia, but
nitrates will be formed. Much depends np
ou the degree of heat and the quality of the
ashes, but the fertilizer so prepared will l»e
rich in potash, nitrogen and phosphoric
acid, the three most valuable substances
known to exist in fertilizers, aud the bones
from animals that die, as well as the flesh,
may be utilized in connection with that
procured, aud it will thus pay the farmer
well to prepare his own fertilizers.
Civil Service Examinations.
If yon want to be a railway postal clerk.
a copyist, a clerk, a poetofiice inspector, a
special pensioner examiner, or anything
else in the gift of this great and glorious
Government, you must go through a civil
service examination, and if you cannot pass
this civil service examination your name is
Dennis or Mud, or anything else denoting
that you are left and didn't "get there.''
When you apply for a position under the
Government you are furnished a blank ap
plication, aud this is put in a numbered
envelope. Henceforth yon arc known by
that number all through your examination
until the result shows that you have, after
weary months of waiting, snaked an SBOO
clerkship or have been elected to remain at
home. The examinations are held at cen
tral points in the various States, aud are
conducted by gentlemen connected with
the examining force of the Civil Service
Commission, the applicants being notified
to attend on a certain day.
Those who arc applicants for positions in
the railway mail service arc examined iti
spelling, penmanship, copying, letter-writ
ing. arithmetic, geography of the I'nited
States and railway aud other systems of
transportation in the United States, wind
iug up by reading the addresses of one hun
dred cards, twenty minutes being given for
this latter work.
The applicants for clerkships in the de
partmental service are examined in or
thography, penmanship, copying, letter
writing, elements of the Knglish language,
arithmetic, elements of the geography, his
tory and government of the I'nited States.
In conducting the examination each can
didate is given a printed forui on each sub
ject on which the answers are written
These forms are filled out and returned to
the examiner as soon as finished, and the
time occupied in wrestling with the que*
tions noted on the blank. These forms are
carefully gone over by the Hoard of Ex
aniiners. the averages taken and then a
general average struck, the latter showing
the standing of the competitor. When a
new clerk is wanted the aspirant with the
highest average takes the cake and its me
compauying salary.
Learn a Trade, Boys!
llurrisburg Telegraph.
Boys! -Let Gossip give you a little ad
vice. Don't be clerks. Don't imagine that
if yon can only get a chance to stand lie
hind a counter that you are quite sure to
become merchant princes, and when you
die die a Stewart or a Wanamaker. The
chances are a million to one against you: a
million to one that you will continue to be
clerks until the coflin lid closes in npon
you. Learn a trade. Learn to make some
thing; to be useful, fruitful, adding to the
world's wealth and to the happiness of
your fellow man. Anybody can sell tape
and measure calico, aud there is a vast
army of men. whom misfortune or physical
infirmity takes behind the counter aud
keeps there, many of whom would gladly
leave it if they were able to do anvthing
else. Don't crowd them out. You are
strong and able bodied. Be brave and
manly us well as strong. Don't impose
upon yourself life long drudgery, as yon
certainly will do if you enter the army of
clerks.
And boys! Don't be silly and afraid of
being called a "mechanic." Very great
men have been mechanics. Those who
were intimate with General Cameron know
that he oftener referred to the early days
when he was numbered among the me
chanics than to those later days when he
represented the country at a foreigu court
or in the Congress of the nation, and he
was proud, too, of those early days of hard
work. "Mechanic" is a noble title. It in
dieates industry, and thrift, aud indejieud
enee, and above all else it iudicates use
fulness; that you are not a drone but a pro
ducer. useful to your day and generation.
The remark is often made that the me
chanical department of this great nation is
rapidly going into the hands of foreigner*,
of men trained abroad, in distant lands.
This is to our discredit. We ought to be
independent of every nation on earth—in
dependent in skill, knowledge and useful
n< -s. Therefore, boys, let Gossip urge you
in nil earnestness to learn a trade; the one
you fancy the iK'st; ami learn it well, and
wbeu you have learned it you will be rneas
urably independent; while the man with
out a trade i- always the "-lave of circum
stances."
—The lad who tails iu hi- effort to rnn
away anil be a bandit doe- the bMt be can,
and gets a situation as train boy.
NO .43