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IfifcMMlpa - .
'gjim e R-TAv
- yFJ X-. ■ 111 '""
1 I NORTH MAIN STHEET,
BU TL.E"R - NP-LJL'JM 2nT' A
Hardware and Houso Furnisliing Goods.
Buggies, Carts, Wheel Barrows, Brammer Washing Machines,
New Sunshine and Howard Banges, Stoves, Table
and ] oeket Cutler}', Hanging Lamps. Man
ufacturer ol Tinware. Tin
Reefing and Spouting A Specialty.
WHERE A CHILD CAN BUY AS CHEAP AS A MAN.
J. R. GRIEB. PROF. R. J. LAMB.
GRIEB & LAMB'S MUSIC STORE.
NO. 16 SOUTH MAIN ST.. BUTLEK. PA.
HSSjj Sole Agents for Butler, Mercer and Clar
*|§n ion counties for Behr Bros. Magnificent Pi-
Newby & Evans' Fianos, Sniith
\WQT American and Carpenter Organs, Importers
theCelebrated Steinmeyer Pianos, and
Dealers in Violins, Bruno Guitars, and
All Kinds of Musical Instruments.
SHEET MUSIC A SPECIALTY
Pianos and Organs sold on installments. Old Instruments
taken in exchange. Come and sec us, as we
can save you money.
Tuning and Repairing of all kinds of Musical Instruments
Promptly attended to.
No. 19, North Main St., BUTLER, PA.,
Spectacles, &c., &c.
Society Emblems of all Descriptions.
Repairing in all branches skillfully done and warranted.
185 O JESSTABIjISHED 1850
And for the next 30 days we shall con
tinue to clear our shelves oi Winter
Goods to make room for
in nmc GOODS.
Come early as the prices we have reduc
ed them to will move theni rapid
ly as they are marked very
low. You will find some big bargains at
* Leading Dry Goods and Carpet House, Butler, Pa*
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
PROFESSION A L C All DS.
J. W. MILLER,
I nuiceoaft. w. cwwtl DUiwxt
J'laiis and specillcatlons lor cheap and expen
sHe buildings mad'' on short notice.
A. A. KELTY, M. D.
Oflleft ,s doors south of !!»<• \ House,
Main st., Rutlcr. IM.. on secorni Hour of Ket
j tcrer's binMim:. on \V. •IHt'crgon St.
rnvsrciAN AND SDKURON.
Office at No. 4.V S. MnUi street, over ITank &
< o'.; Dni); Store.- Itutler. l'a,
SAMUEL M. BIPPUS.
Physician and Surgeon.
So. JO \Vest Cunningham St.,
W. R. TITZEL.
PHYSICIAN ANU SURGEON.
s. W.Corner Main and North Sin.
BUTLER IPIEJN ItT' A.
DR. S. A. JOHNSTON.
DENTIST, - - BUTLER, PA.
All work pertaining to the profession execut
ed m the neatest manner.
Specialties:-Gold Killings, and Painless ex
traction of Teeth, Vitalized Air administered.
Ofllie oil Jefferson Street, nnr dour East ofLu«r;
■louse. Up Stairs.
Office open daily, except Wednesdays and
Thursdays. Communications by mail receive
X. B.—The only Dentist iu Rutlcr using the
best makes of teeth.
J. W. HUTCHISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office on second tloor of the Huselton block,
Diamond, Butler, fa., ltoom No. 1.
A. T. SCOTT. J. P. WILSON.
SCOTT & WILSON,
Collections a specialty. Office at No. s. South
Diamond, llutler. Fa.
JAMES N. MOORE,
ATTOKNEY-AT-LAW AND NOTARY PUBLIC.
Office In Kooin No. t. second floor of Huselton
lllock, entrance on Diamond.
P. W. LOWRY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Room No. 3, Anderson Dulldiug. Butler, Pa.
A. E. RUSSELL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office on second floor of New Anderson lilock
Main St..—near Diamond.
Attorney at Law, office at No. 17, East Jeffer
son St., Butler, Pa.
W. C. KINDLEY,
Attorney at l.nw aiul Keul Estate Agent, fit
flee rear or L. Mitchell's office on north side
of Diamond, llutler.. Pa.
11. H. GOUCIIER.
Attorney-at-lau. Office on second Hour »(
Anderson building, near Court Mouse, Butler,
J. b. BRITTAIN.
Ally at Law—Office at S. E. for. Main St, and
Diamond, Butler, Pa.
Att'y at Law—Office on South side of Diamond
JOHN M. RUSSELL,
Attorney-at-Law. Office on South side of Dia
mond, Butler, Pa.
C. F. Lf McQUISTION,
ENGINEER AXI) SURVEYOR,
OFFICS NEAR DIAMOSK, BUTLER, PA.
Insurance and Real Estate Ag't
17 LAST JEFFERSON ST.
BUTLER, - PA.
E E. ABRAMS &CO
Fire and Lilc
Insurance Co. of North America, incor
porated 179't, capital $3,000,000 and other
strong companies represented. New York
Life Insurance Co., assets ?1H),000,000. Office
New Huselton building near Court House.
Mutual Fire Insurance Co.
Office Cor. Main & Cunningham Sts.
Gl. C. ROESSING, PRESIDENT.
WM. CAMPBELL THEASUKKU
H. C. IIEINEMAN, SEOUSTARY
J. L Purvis, .Samuel Anderson.
William Campbell W. Iturkharf,
A. Troutinan, Henderson Oliver,
<!. C. lioesslng, James Stephenson.
Dr. W. Irvln, Henry Whitmlro.
J. K. Taylor. 11. C. Heinemiin,
LOYAL MMUNEIN, Gen. Aer't-
Fop the next sixty days we
will oiler Uarjjjains m till oui*
gilt and embossed wall papers,
in order to reduce stock and
make room lor Holiday (foods,
J. H. Douglass,
Ts'ear PostotKce, Butler, Pa
Advtjfiis} ir ♦HO CITIZEN,
HEINRICH AND Ills \ 10.
P.V iIABV MoKltlSoN.
once U|KMI it lime, uot a huudred years
ago, a large -hip .sailed into the harbor at
| New York. She was tilleil with emigrants
coming trom Germauy.
Why they wanted to leave their lx*;wiit iful
land for the wilds of America. I cannot tell.
I'or gold, perhaps; fur to many people gold
is the angel that stands in the sun, and
tliey follow him to the west as he frees
down, and then they are left in the dark
ness—not all. some live through the uight
and find hiut again in the morning—uot
Among the passengers slauds a young
man who holds a little hoy hy the hand.
Lcauing on his arm is his mother, the
grandmother of the child. They all look
anxiously at the city in the mists.
'"The fog is a kail omeu," the old wo
man croaks. "The new world ought, to he
willing to show her lace to us, and not
hide it. behind a veil."
••Perhaps she'll lilt her veil when we get
nearer to her,'' said the child, and his fath
er patted him on the head and smiled.
At, last the pier was gained and the up
roar on shore and on board was something
fearful to the ears of the emigrants used
only to country sounds, like the lowing of
cattle and the bleating of lambs.
"See! the fog has passed away!" cried
Hut the woman muttered: "She is ugli
er without, her veil than with it."
They were whirled from the ship to the
cars and borne by tin- rushing steam across
the country to the far west.
"Seems to me we are leaving all the
prelt3 - places, grandmother." said the child,
but she did not answer him, and the boy
wondered —wondered why they did not
stay in one of those handsome houses.
Poor child! he had not learned that there
was no pot of gold at the rainbow's end;
and that it" there were, it might not be for
him. And when his father said they had
not the money to live there, he wondered
why he did not get it then.
"We will. God helping us," his father
said, and as he spoke he pressed his lips
tightly, and looked out far away wherj
the hills touched the sky.
"Beyond the mountains —ah! yes there
is always the land of promise," muttered
his mother, as she Saw where his eyes
Finally, after many weary days and
nights their traveling was over. The last
part of the way they had been carried in a
huge emigrant wagon. They stopped on
the shoro of a little lake among the hills.
"It was a bit like the fatherland," llein
rich's father said. The grandmother curl
ed her lips and was silent, but the boy
knelt by the water and watched the fishes
turn to gold in the sunlight.
t'arl Hitter was a father. When very
young he had married one of the very
pretty peasant maidens of his own village,
and had taken her home to live with him
and his mother. The year lleiurich was
born was a hard .season, and the landhold
er became cruel and tyrranical, as the land
yielded less than usual. The sweet young
mother, with her blue eyes and soft brown
hair, tried hard to make the noted two
ends meet, but with the increased train of
care and anxiety, grew ill and died, .lust
then, when everything seemed against
poor Carl, there came a man from Ameri
ca futFWglowing reports of the golden
land in the west, and that was the secret
of Carl's voyage- 11 is mother opposed the
plan. She would rather lay her bones un
der the flowers of Germany than dwell a
"line lady" iu America.
lint you know that where the lambs go,
the sheep will follow; so she—but uot
without many a look back—had come
across the sea.
Land was plenty and cheap, and with a
very little money Carl hired several acres
and put up a log cabin near the shores of
the lake. Many were the hardships and
privations, but his brave spirit seemed to
triumph over them all. lie was as last
able to pay for his land and add a small
log shelter for his cattle.
lleiurich loved to follow his father every
where, but better than everything else ho
loved, in the long evenings, to sit and list
en to his violin—the German Hausfreund
(house friend), that followed . his fortunes
The old grandmother grew infirm and
more irritable, for with increase of goods
came greater care, and the charge of the
milk and butter grieved her careful soul
overmuch. She complained to Carl that
the care of the dairy and the vegetable
bed was too much l'or her. She told him
he must get himself a wife—a woman
young and strong. There was liertha
Lindhaus, a rosy-cheeked, stout-armed wo
man—she was just the one. lint poor
Carl's face would look very sad as she
spoke, and he would say nothing, but take
down his violin and play such .soft, sweet
strains, any one might know ho was think
ing of something beyoud the earth —even
of Ileiurich's mother, who with the angels.
One night, when the cattle were driven
home and he had closed the door for the
night, they sat down for the supper. The
old woman was complaining bitlerly of
rheumatism. lleiurich was fretting be
cause his bread was too salt. Xo one not
iced Carl's hand tremble, and he ate noth
ing—they were so taken up with their
After tea he took down his violin, and
Hcinrich came and sat down by his side,
lie drew his bow across the strings. There
came one low sweet strain of melody, and
the instrument dropped from his hands.
ISoth hastened to him, and with difficul
ty helped him ou his low bed, and then
the boy went for help.
As his mother bent over her son, he op
ened his eyes and murmured, "The door!
Open it!" and as the light fell on his bed,
he turned his. The moou was risiug over
the distant hills, and making a bridge of
light across the plain. Carl pointed to the
hills. "Did yon uot say, mother, the land
of promise was—beyond those mountains?
lam going there, Good-bye." And before
aid had arrived his spirit had passed over
the shining way beyond the boundary.
lleiurich, who had heard all the conver
sations of the older people, said:
"Brother has a young wife now. hasn't
"But his grandmother only sighed.
She would that he might have had Bertha.
Hitter had died of heart disease, so he
was buried iu the graveyard in the valley,
whieh was already becoming a silent vil
lage by itself.
And now Heinrich was 12 years old.
His grandmother was 80, and they were
left with the care of the farm and the cat
tle. It was no use. They could not take
care of them, and it was sold "for a song,"
except the cabin and the vegetable garden.
But there was one thing that little Hein
rich treasured more than anything else his
father had left—it was the old violin.
When work was done he would take it iu
his arms, and steal out alone iu the sum
mer nights to the "Hod's Acre," and play
on his instrument. He never played anv
thing but low, solemn music there.
One day everything had seemed to go
wrong; some one's sheep bad been iu the
UUTLER PA.. FRIDAY. FEBRUARY 11, 1890
garden, his grandmother sick, and tin
cow was lame; and when a Kind neighbor
runic in at night he took hit violin and
went down a little path into the woods.
The stars -hone through the branche ,
making the trees look &s if they were
lighted for t'iiri.-tuia.-, and the ground v\ .i-.
covered with a soft, lirown carpet of pine.
There, as he drew out sweet strains of nm
sie, a voice like his father', ceincd to say
"Cheer up. Heinrich, never give up!" And
his heart was tilled with comfort.
Everyday, all the time that the boy
could spare from his daily work, was spent
in practicing; sometimes iu the summer
evenings he would play bright, lively
dancing music, and some ol tin- villagers
would join bauds aud dance; and after
ward they would give him a lew coppers,
which he would rarefnlly treasure as
among his first earnings.
These two, the boy and his grandmother
toiled very hard, but there eanie one day
when he had to toil hy himself. She had
been laid away to .sleep in tin valley.
"She was old, it was time for her to die,"
the people said, but Ueinrich's eyes were
full of tears—he was alone iu the world
The log cabin had to be .-old, and alter
the debts were paid there was very little
left for the poor boy. lie did not know
which way to turn, lie had no longer a
roof to cover his head.
While he was pondering what he should
do, he crept out of the house where he had
been taken in for a few nights, and went
with his violin in his arms to his father's
grave, aud began to play the "Eri King,"
which he had learned from him. It seemed
wild, unearthly aud solemn down there in
the valley, aud as lie played an indeftable
fear filled his heart. Then he remembered
a story iu au obi book some one had lent
him about a boy who worked hard aud
studied music, aud when lie grew up be
came a teacher in a university. This sto
ry had sunk deep into bis heart, and as be
thought of it now. bis heart became lilled
It was just about time for the boat to
cross the laki—be had a few cents in his
p-'iJifcL. and iletf'iiiimd that he would be
gin his travels, and start on hi career in
the great world. lie had nothing
treasured to leave behind him,all his treas
nres had gone on beyond. He had aiily to
choose his way toward theni.
The boatman willingly took liiui in, and
rowed him across the water; bat before he
turned to go back he slipped, the boy's
money into his pocket, lie was a rough
German boatman, but as he said afterward.
"It would hab gone to uiiue hertz to take
moneys from a poor sohn who has hi s \a
The boat .slid from the sand on lo the
lake and Heinrieh was left alone, only
the moon looked at her face in the water,
and Heinrieh v.as lelt alouc. Only the
moon looked at her face in the water, and
the waves whispered softly to the pebbles.
lie traveled on toward the east. All
the stars faded away and the moon grew
pale, but the golden sua showed its head
over the distant hill tops, and he went on.
lie walked ten uiiles that day, and at
night slept in a barn. AVhen he awoke,
lie felt for his violin, it was there safe be
side him; but his money, the boatman's
gift with the rest, was all gone. The tears
stood in his eyes as ho pre wed the bans
freund to his heart, as much ai to say,
"Von are all I have left." and slowly pur
sued his journey.
Finally, playing am' pa.-ng bis way
with bis melody as he went, he came to a
great city. It was jnst at night, and he
sat down on the .side of a bridge and lean
ed against a lamp. It was a hard pillow,
but he had become used to that. In the
morning he weut with a throng of labor
era until lie came to a coal yard. A man
shouted to him, "Here, boy, waut some
Ah! how his heart beat!
"Indeed, I do, sir," he said earnest
■•Well, we keep a droppin' our coal oil'
the carts' an' wc want a hoy that's quick
an' lively to pick it up. We'll pay yon
well. What's that under your arm?"
"My violin," sir.
"Fiddle-dee-dee! Well, never mind; lay
it under the roofing there, and come and
It was hard labor, hut the boy tried and
did well, and a voice always seemed say
ing to him, when he was tired or discour
aged, "Cheer np, Heinrieh, never give
When night came and the men were put
ting on their coats to go away he took up
his violin and began to play "llome,Sweet
Home." The men stopped in wonder and
"That's well done," said Jim, as a tear
made a white path down his black cheek.
"Pass ronnd the hat, boys. I declare if
that ere didn't make lue think of my old
woman! Seemed to me as if I could al
most hear the baby a-cryin', an' the dough
nuts a-spnttcrin' on the fire. She's many
a mile away; dear heart! Play us one
Heinrieh played again, and after that
the men left him, all but Jim, who linger
ed. "Have you got 'ere a place to spend
the night, my hoyT If you hain't, come
Heinrieh thanked him and weut with
hint. It wasn't "much of a place," it
wasn't Jim's real home, but it was a quiet
little room in the loft of a barn. "Wish I
could you the real place," Jim said.
The next day he worked until night, and
then gathered round him for another tune.
This time is was a merry waltz, and almost
before they were aware tiny were hopping
about the yard like so many black mon
Night after night, when work was over,
the hoy washed his faee and hands and
played for the men, and his fame began to
spread through the city.
One night, as the men stood waiting, and
the outsiders crowded around, Heinrieh
turned from a gay polka to a low, .sweet
strain Irom one of Beethoven's symphonies,
which he remembered from his father's
A young girl was just passing, 1,-uuiug
on her father's arm. "Why, papa, just
listen," she cried. "There i 3 that strain
from Beethoven 1 have been trying all day
to play light. Just think of hearing it in
a coal yard! Bo stop a minute, papa!"
So they stopped. "It is a strange sight,"
said tier father thoughtfully.
And so it was—that little fair-faced boy
standing amid a throng of coal-blackened
laborers, bis hat lying oil the ground, his
bright hair curling about his forehead, his
earnest blue eyes full of expression, his
face warmed with the glow from the sun
set and the scarlet Hannel blouse jjst open
ing at his throat. There lie stood, his vio
lin raised on bis shoulder his whole soul
absorbed in the long drawn out harmony.
They had all gone away but .lint and
Heinrieh, when the gentleman called the
hoy to him.
' My lad, do you waut to study music?"
Tho boy's heart leaped into his mouth,
and hi' looked into the gentleman's faee as
if ho were "an angel that told him the e
"Oh! so much, so very much!" he said.
"Havo you any home, any friends here?"
"Only this," the boy hugged the bails
frennd—"this, and Jim."
■Where are your father and mother?"
Hcinrich looked up to the sky, and ju.t
at that moment a .star came out where hi •
"Vou shall come home with me, ami 1
will teach you with my other pupils. Hon
much longer must you work here?"
"Only until tomorrow," replied the boy
joyfully, and the gentleman gave him his
his card and left him.
That night, when he told Jim his good
fortune, the burly fellow wiped hi■: eye
with his coatsleeve. "Well, God bless
you. boy! I wanted to take yon home
with me to see the baby .some time or
other, but it's all right. God ble.s you!"
lleiurich Hitter began his studies next
day. Mail', times through the lapse of
years his heart almost failed him; once
when he was wrongfully accused of theft,
once when lie was ill and played hi- part
wrong at a grand concert.
\t last came the greatest joy of hi i life
—lie was to go to Germany and perfect
himself in his ait. His kind benefactor
was going with him, aud also his beucfae
tor's Wife ami two daughtrrs, one of whom
Heinrich loved- he had only tohl this to
his violin though.
Eight years passed. The boy grew to
manhood, the girl to womanhood. The
little old violin had been changed for one
of better make and purer tone, tint the lair
girl's image in Ueinrich's heart remained
only more deeply fixed, dearer to him than
evr. Day aud night he had labored,
thin' ing with alternate hope and fear of
the future before him. but always working,
always studying, pressing on higher and
higher, overcoming every difficulty, but
.still as far as ever from obtaining his ob
Fairer even than in early youth had
Gertrude Lander become. Her hair, like
woven sunlight, wound around her classic
head and rippled over her low white fore
head; her eyes a deep violet gray; her
features rather suiull but not inconsistent
with her fairy-like form; her hand small
and white and fiilJjyfjtwpietic touch. Ah.
what wunder that the rich young baron
"ov»r opposite" had offered title, fortune
and himself lo her! What wonder that the
young arti.:t from America, who was study
ing paiutiug iu Germany, forgot palette,
canvas, anil all ill looking at this one fair
face! And when he mildly tohl the young
girl's father of his hopes aud was so coldly
repulsed, ua-il strange thnt a mother in
America received news that Italy was the
| far better place lo study the tine arts? She
| had told liiin so all aloug.she said.
lleiurich had heard from Mr. Lander,
her father, of those proposals. He was
told that the first uonhl be favored iu
every possible way; he was also told that
the love of Gertrude should never be given
to a young mau like the artist, with fame
and fortune vet to be mnde.
I.ate one night the young musician sat
at his window, which overlooked the
street. Just below walked two young men
back and forth in earnest conversation.
Heinrieh was thinking of the time when he
and Gertrude were children, when they
crossed the ocean, and -he one day, look
ing across the sea, hail laid her hand in his
and promised to lie his little wife jnst as
soon as papa would be willing. Ah! what
a long time ago that .seemed! Madly
jealous of the rich baron, di scon len led w il h
himself, he put his head on hi.; hauds on
the window-sill, lie bail never dared of
late to say anything to Gertrude of his
love, lie fras poor, and she was rich; lie
would wait until he could meet her 1111
The conversation below in the street he
came more distinct, from a change in the
"I tell you, no use to serenade her. She
doesn't care a thaler for you. She's in
love with that violinist. She's as much as
told me so. Just as soon as he has made
a grand debut somewhere or other, her
father won't say a word, the baron will go
"Hush! you are talking too louil; the
walls liaye ear,'," and lie was not tar from
That was all Heinrieh heard, tint, a deep
er joy came into his heart than he had felt
s : nce the day he had been told he could
study music. Of course, in his mind, there
was but one woman in Berlin to he quar
reled over, and when ho heard the low
despairing note of a flute from the other
side of the garden, he was not surprised.
After this he worked harder than ever
over his music. Scarcely speaking to any
one. taking no time for amusement, and
scarcely any for rest, Gertrude wondered
what had taken possession of his mind, and
thought him unkind and unt.houghtful of her.
never dreaming that all his thoughts anil
labors were for her alone.
Two years more of hard study and his
hour of triumph came. There was to be a
great' concert at Berlin, at which he was to
play. The King (now Kmperor) and
Queen were to be there. Heinrieh did not
.sleep all the night before, lie paced the
garden behind the house and thought of
the morrow, thought ol' his whole life,
thought what should be the theme of his
improvisation, and of little Gertrude sleep
ing in the room above, and prayed God to
It was the evening of the grand concert.
| The house was filled. Everybody wanted
to hear the new violinist, Heinrieh Hitter.
The lirst part of the program was scarce
ly listened to, but when he stepped on the
stage, for a moment all was still, then
there came such a chorus of applause that
it seemed as if every rafter were clapping.
He acknowledged it, and came forward.
He looked at Gertrude's expectant face
eagerly raised to his. lie saw the people
waiting, anil for a moment lelt his own
weakness. "Don't give up now," some
thing seemed to whisper in his ear. and he
raised the instrument.
Ah, the story of his life. But my ren
dering, compared to his, is like the words
of a song without the melody. The great
ball was as still as the interior of a pyramid
at midnight. Then the air vibrating with
a clear, sweet ripple of melody that seem
ed far away. Heinrieh was thinking of
their coming to America, the eity in the
mi.-t. then the rude, inharmonious harmony
of doubts and fears, and the lit tle home by
the lake; the long evenings when he sat a
child at his father's feet, and listened to
the sweet tones ol the old violin. Then
the weird notes of the Eri-King, brightened
by the meeting with one who could unlock
the world of sweet sounds to him: then his
love for Gertrude and the return to tier
many, and his despair and then reviving
hope and longings for the future. One
could have heard in the music the voice of
the rushing lthine, have seen the sunlight
on the water, and the form of Gertrude
waiting for him at the gate of their home
on the hill. One could almost catch the
carol of the birds mingling with the voice
of the old hausfreand by the door. Then
came the last, sweetest harmony of all—
the faces of his father and mother—young
now with immortality, and just when the
clouds rolled back and stood like rosy
columns, opened the glorious gates of
pearl. There lay the home in the skies—
the true fatherland. You could almost
catch the liquid notes of the harps. The
The audience seemed bewildered, en-
tranced. Only a moment and the stag<-
was covered with flower the air was
sweet with their perfume, and resonant
with the glad applau f the throng.
Heinrich beard nothing, an nothing but
Gertrude' lupj.* face. His reward wa
i-omplete. Gloria iu e\celsis' Gloria.
Gloria' It eerncd a h the air were full of
bells, joyous chimes ringing gloria! W hat
was it' Nothing, only Heinrich, with hi:
heart full of joy and triumph, hail again
lai ed his violin and drawn forth joyou.
strains of melody, iu which his very heart
seemed to sp,..ik and the concert w:».
That was years ago. All bis dream
have been realized except the li t, which
is yet to com-. Even as I write Gertrude
Hitter lands by the door of a villa on the
Khilie. shading her eyes as -lie looks down
in the valby. The day's tasks are over.
Ihe round table is spread on the grass under
the trees, aud a little golden haired Carl
- its on the door -tep beneath the vine-, and
hug- the \ ioliu whieh has been .-ucli a
traveler in its day.
Heinrich climbs up the bill wearily aud
lowly, but a lie catches the view of the
sweet faces above his step becomes lighter,
bis eyes brighter, and involuntarily lie ex
claim "Oh! would that all weary climb
ings might have .such an end!"
A Good Story for Dnplisls.
The following i. a true story and well
worth printing, say s a Hoston paper Two
young ladies of this city were desirions of
joining one of tile prominent Episcopalian
church, s, but, as they had been taught
that immersion was the true form of bap
ti. in, they wished on joining themselves
to the churcb to be lmpti ed in that man
ner. They stated their wishes to the pas
tor. and he expressed himself entirely
willing to auiini-tcr the ordinance in that
form# but a ; there were no convenience -
in the church edifice for the purpose it
would lie necessary to go to the frog-pond
on the coh.mon or the pretty lakelet in the
puli'ic garden. They looked upon this
with horror. They conld not
think of ii— rnwM *'«» i think of making
such a spectacle ol them elves.
••Then," said the genial pastor, "yon
had better go to a llaptist church for tie
purpose, and after baptism if you dc ire il
you will be received into the Episcopalian
The hulie v. delighted with the sug
gesiioii, and made known their whh to be
baptised to a liaptnt preacher.
"Certainly," replied the pastor, " but
there are certain preliminaries to hi' gone
through before baptism—certain prepara
tions to he made. It is a solemn ordin
ance—one not to be lightly übmitted to—
and. by the way, it appears to me strange
that you have not previously con lilted
me —that the preparation ;o necessary—"
"Oh, we are already prepared," said the
"A I ready prepared?"
' Yes. We do not intend to hecome
members of your church, we only want to
be baptised, as we believe inimcrsiou to lie
the proper form of bapti ail. We are going
to join the Episcopalian church.
"Oh. that's il," said the pastor, II ing,
"then permit me to inform you, my dear
joung ladies, thai wo do liol wash Episco
palian beep here."
The Bleaching of Horses.
A curious statement, comes from Arkan
sas concerning a gang of horse thieves,who
had for their chief a istant a young woman
a—bleached blonde —with the nickname of
Sorrel Sue. She was given this name be
cause she always appeared in public riding
a sorrel horse. Her excellent horsewoman
ship aud licr dashing mauner brought her
many admirers, the shooting affair which
forces her into notice was au ordinary case
of plain jealousy. Two of her admirers,
both member:? of the gang, f'onght for her
favor, tine was killed, and the survivor
was severely wounded. A surgeon was
sent for. He mistook the direction and
walked into the cabin occupied by "Sorrel
Sue." Before he could be hustled out, lie
saw certain things which aroused his sus
picious. These he reported to the . herill',
who with a posse managed to surround the
den of the horse thieves, capturing Sue and
two of her gang. The sheriff, though
pleased with the capture, was more than
elated at the discovery of the peculiar
method of disguising the stolen animals
adopted by the gang, lie found that Sue
had applied the means of bleaching her
own hair to that of the horses.
When the posse entered, they found a
horse enveloped iu a jacket made out of
rubber coats, being treated to a sulphur
vapor bath. The appliances were very in
genious, ami worked verj' well. A black
bay horse would be stolen aud run into the
bleachery. After its color was changed
and its tail and mane trimmed,the disguiso
became so pronounced that without any
great risk the animal conld be taken iu
daylight through the very district, from
whieh it had been stolen. It was Sue's
business not only to superintend the
bleaching, but also to ride the animal out
of the country.
The Australian Ballol.
New Vork Sun.]
"I had a good deal of experience with
the Australian ballot system iu Canada,''
said a former Canada politician who is now
a resident of New York, "and T can say
from my own knowledge that it protects
the politician who wants to buy votes a
good deal more than it doc - the ballot bo\.
All you need beforehand is one copy of the
official ballot for each polling place. We
never had any trouble in getting as many
as were needed, and until human nature
changes a good deal from what it is now,
I don't believe there would be any difficul
ty iu doing the same anywhere else.
The man who has a polling place in
charge has his men spotted beforehand,
and. in a good many cases, the arrange
luents all made. He keeps his official bal
lot, ready marked, in his pocket and hang?
around in the neighborhood of hi? polling
place and sees his men before they go in.
The man who receives it puts it in his
pocket, gets a ballot, from the official,stays
the proper time in the booth, where he
pnts the fresh ballot, in his pocket, and
takes out the marked one. The latter i
deposited iu the box and the other trans
furred lo the possession of the 111411 around
the corner, who knows absolutely that he
h.v got what he has paid for, which is a
good deal more than any politician can
be sure of under the ordinary plan.
l'crsous troubled with rats about their
premises will tiud the following mode of
killing them worth a year's sub eription to
Fill a large barrel three part ; (nil of
chaff. Place a quantity ot barley meal or
other bait on top of the chaff, place a
board sloping troiu top of barrel, for rats
to jump on top of chaff, but not come
within six inches of it. The rats can thus
have a feast and escape. The following
night till the barrel three parts full of wa
tor; place about four inches of chaff to
float on top, bait as before, and in the
morning yon will find the barrel half full
of dead rats.
—There ure teveral wayS to pay bills,
but the majority of-the big ones uie paid
W;i\a Writer Bui no Fighter.
Several year* before the war, ami before
i there vrere any rail roads in Arkan.suw.wheu
' ihe Whit' ami Democrats were ever re.vlj
| t<> i r M thnvn t<> tin- uul li.tr and bum («»v
iter fur the akc of impeached honor, there
wa published in Little Bock a democratic
new. paper known a> the lIV< Lly lutt'in
hut. It via-edited In a Colonel Blunt, a
man with nerves as strong as wire ami
who.e pen wis a aggressive as a latter day
commercial trn-t. lie ha«l fought several
duel*. had Incii severelv Wounded anil had
, crippled ■ •lie man and killed another.
One day. during aMI her quiet political
ea-oii, a tall. "gangling" fellow went to
the I iihi i'i tint office ami applied for
" What can \mi do*" the Colonel ask
"I can do almost anything on a ncv. pa
per. 1 have done a great deal of work in
the Ka-t. and lam regarded as one of the
Im\4 local reporters in the country."
| "What's your liatne?"
J . "John Wil-on."
! "Well. Mi Wilson, to tell you the trnth,
lam in need of a local reporter. There
are many opportunities here for tine writ
in#. Are you what is known as a line
writer—a man who can paint striking piet
"All right, you may go to work. My
paper has been drooping for some time on
account of the political calut that is now
ruining the conutiy. 1 cannot leave my
pt-reh of political dignity and descend to
i the treet —indeed. 1 am a sower of seed,
ot idea- rather than a reaper in the the
harvest Held of event.'. Von understand
me. 1 -nppose."
■ • Ve<. .sir."
■•All right. Now, I want you 10,g0",, u t
and write up everything you .see; that is.
evcrj'thing you eau touch •''with interest.
Make you work thrilliug-^-nse glaring me
tapbor.—give to yourself an interesting
identity, for journaJKm impersonal ir> this
Ml ✓as a KINK RITE It.
| Wibon was really a fine writer, witli an
I imagination that might have awakened the
I'llr\ of a novelist and with a fancy that
might have challenged the admiration of a
poet, lie wrote short stories and bright
sketches, produce I comic rhymes and hu
! morons paragraphs.
i The Colonel wa delighted. "Von are
1 the man I have been hoping would come
| ilong,' he aid to Wil on. "Von can keep
my paper up during the ealm, and I can
make it roar during the storm. We are a
team, sir, and I know that subscriptions
will J.n begin to pour in."
Weeks pa od and the paper seemed to
grow brighter with each issue, hut no sub
"Wilson," . aid the Colonel, "you are do
ing excellent work, but somehow it doesn't
amount to anything. Your matter is all
right, but you have not succeeded in estab
lishing an interesting identity. Our peo
are peculiar in tlii ■ lespect. Jut about
tin' time you came here a little bench leg
ged. nib nosed, red headed fellow took
chart the ll'hi</iiist Horn, published
around the corner. lie can't w rite ten
«<>ril of good Eugli h, but he has estab
li In d an interesting identity and subscrip
tion: are pouring into the office."
"Ifow did he manage it?" Wilson asked,
in a rather dejected way.
"Why, he i aught'the people. Although
po e ; ing no literary ability, hi- knew- that
something had to done, so he went out and
whipped a fellow."
"Whipped a fellow!" Wilson exclaimed.
"Ves. sir; went out, jumped on a man
and whaled him. Then the people began
to talk about liitu, and as his interesting
identity was thus established, they wanted
to read his matter and, naturally enough,
siibreribed for his paper."
lllliN' r LIKE TJIE OLTLOOK.
"Whipped a fellow.'"' .-aid Wilson, re
tlectively. "But look here. Colonel, I
don't want to be killed. I don't mind
whipping a fellow, but 1 don't want a fel
low to shoot me or to challenge me. for if
I should refuse the challenge I should be
"There is no danger of a challenge. Lo
cal editors are not challenged. Being
challenged is a distinction that belongs to
the editor in chief. As for being shot,
why, you must take your chances. In
fact, there is not much danger if you han
dle yourself rightly. Knock the fellow
down, and if he has a pistol take it awaj
from hint. And then, my dear sir, the
subscriptions will pour in and your fortune
will be made."
•1 w ill study about it. Colonel."
"Yes, but while you are studying about
it, subscriptions are pouring in upon our
rival sheet. My gracious alive, if this were
not a season of political calm I'd show you
a subscription list."
"Colonel, T will go and see what can be
"Thank you, my brave boy," said the
Colonel, grasping his hand, ' thank yon.
(!o out and wool some scalawag and then
come and take dinner with me."
Wil on went out. and after walking
about, meditating, went into a saloon.
Pretty soon there was a feritic commotion,
and shortly afterward Wtlson, limping
painfully, came out and hastened as best
he could to the office. The Colonel was
waiting for him.
"Why, my dear fellow, what ia the mat
ter?" the colonel exclaimed.
Wilson sat down. "I have had a siege."
■ aid lie, "an awful siege, but 1 fear that it
wa the other fellow that established the
interesting identity. I went into a saloon
and saw about the meanest looking fellow
I ever came across. I felt that 1 could
whip him and made a pass at him. lie
ran under me, threw nie up, kicked me
three times and snapped off this ear before
1 hit the ground."
"Is he red headed and bench legged'"
''Has a stub noser"
• Merciful heaven ! That's the local
editor of the IVkiijtjist limn. Coon away.
AVilsou—go on, for I don't want you. Go
on; ami when this calm is over 1 will at
tempt to reclaim my fallen fortunes by
. hooting the editor of the Horn. I cannot
pay yon any money; yon do not deserve
any."— 1 r/</ itsfl if Tritcf U
Pifle bullets are now photographed in
their course by means of the electric spark.
The camera is taken into a dark room,
which the bullet is caused to traverse. As
it passe; the camera it is made to interrupt
an electric circuit, aud produce a spark,
which illuminates it lor an instant and
enable s the iinpre ..ion to l.e taken. The
wave of i iiiulen at ion in the air before the
bullet and the rarefaction behind it are
visible in the photograph, and can be
studied by experts. thu enabling the form
of ball or rifle which minimizes the resit
Slice of the air to be Kelccted.
It is proper now to i-peak ol the man
who blow out the gas as an nss-fix i ated
The weary brain will plot and plan
Some way of duty .bilking.
It's queer how hard a lazy man
Will work to keep I'ioni woikiug.
Kor calves give a feed of scalded corn
meal and ground oats.
The be.st of all food* lor tock is a good
ration of hay morning and night, along
' with a ration of grain.
Bran should be a part of the ration of all
classes of live stock, Iml bran should be
led in connection with irroiiml irrain or cut
The fence corners should be as clean as
am other portion of the farm. They are
1 be harboring places of vermin and a frnit
In I source of weeds.
Now that the ground i- cold you may safe
ly prune the vim- - and bushes. Young trees
. may l>c trimmed to shape ami out door
work be given the orchard.
One gallon of red paint and live gallons
••I crude petroleum, well mixed, is claimed
to be the cheapest paint that can be made.
It is abo very durable.
It is aid of corn that it is one of the
best foods for fattening hogs, but is star
vation diet to pigs. The reason is that
while corn contains the elements that pro
■luce fat it is deficient in mineral matter
! and other elements essential to growth.
l'Yed chopped ..crap beef to the bens if
I you wi-h tlietu to lay. When eggs are as
high as at present it w ill pay to buy meat
t'or the hens. The cheaper portions will
answer, but it should be lean Liver and
| fresh blood are also excellent egg
Ensilage, ground oats,
-ays Mr. A. L. Crosby in the New II amp -
| shire Mirrof, i.s as near a perfect ration as
a dairvxTju could wish for. lie recom
j niends 20 to f>o pounds ensilage, C to 10
pounds clover hay and 2to 0 quarts oats
daily, according to the demands of the
Inherent defects should be avoided. The
poultry lanciers have had a crooked breast
bone or a wry tail on a sire transmitted to
all the chicks. Aim to avoid deformities
or enfeebled constitutions in birds or ani
The injury to seed corn in winter is not
due so much by exposure to extreme cold
as to the corn not being perfectly dry.
Seed corn .should be kept in a dry place,
where dampness cannot reach if, and the
cold will then have but little etl'eet on it.
Do not throw the corn stalks away, but
pass them through a cotter and use the.,!
in the manure heap as absorbents, so as to
allow them to quickly decompose. If lliey
are tender, cut them and feed to
If the sheep are .sheltered in a shed at
night and the shed enclosed with a good
fence, the saving from loss by dogs aud by
the protection afforded will pay the cost of
the shed and fence if the lence is a moder
ately large one.
Rye at this season is in excellent condi
tion lor stock. If bine grass bo used ou
pastures it will afford grazing until late,
and as grass serves to regulate the bowels
a small proportion now is more beneficial
than at any other time.
Many good cow. give but a small
quantity of mi Ik because they are not
properly managed. Some persons allow
a certain quantity of feed, Iroin which no
variation is made. .V cow fed
all she will cat, aud if she improves in the
quantity of her milk rlie should he induced
to eat more.
It is still time to purchase poultry if
breeding pens are to be made up, or mat
ings improved. I am afraid, however,
that the best are picked out, and besides,
prices for choice birds are higher now than
Twelve hens, if properly cared for, bring
in a profit of s'23 in one year. This would
buy a suit of clothes good enough for any
hoy. Give the boys and girls a chance.
There is nothing that gives more pleasure
than u small flock of fowls.
How is a turkey hen for an incubator ?
If yon want to raise early chicks a turkey
hen is just the hen. Give her a dozen pro
celaiu eggs in a partly darkened cage, anil
in a few days she will become broody.
Then give her thirty hen's eggs and see if
she will uot produce a paying hatch. They
require perhaps a trifle more watching at
first than the genuine hen.
Wheu au egg becomes musty it is what
is known as a stale eg£, and an egg can
not become stale for a very long time un
less the air lias some influence ou the yelk.
This happens from long lying in one posi
tion. thus enabling the yelk to settle
through the albumen and become adher
ent to the shell on tho under side, which,
being poms, allows absorption of air.
Chemical decomposition produces the mus
ty taste aud smell. Frequent turning pre
vents eggs from becoming stale.
—The authority for the following state
nient is a railroad man who knows what
ho is talking about: Every time the wheels
I of a car pass over a rail joint there is a dis
tant click, aud if you count the number of
those clicks in twenty seconds jou have
the number of miles that tho train is trav
eling in one hour.
—Channcey Depew said, in a recent
speeech he was making to tho girls of Yas
sar College, that "when in Ireland his su
premest ambition was to kiss the Blarney
. tone, but when he went to Blarney Castle
he found there were some difficulties. The
alone is below the battlements and if one
leaned over to kiss it he would certainly
fall and break his neck, and there is not
a ladder in all Ireland long enough to
reach it from below. So in fact nobody has
ever really kissed the atone." He said he
threw kisses at it aud had been practising
its virtues ever since.
Why let the baby suffer and perhaps
die, wheu a bottle of Dr. Bull's Baby
Syrup would at once relieve it and effect a
cure. Only 25 cents a bottle.
I'ersons of sedentary habits, and over
worked liml iu Laxador a specific for want
of appetite, palpitation, debility, constipa
lion, and many other ailments. At all
druggists. Price 25 cents.
Molly has her sealskin sacque
And Willie has his sled.
But dear papa's pocketbook
Is almost sick abed.
The poet says that "'Tit love which
makes the world go round." It also makes
the young man "go round" quite frequent
ly Sunday nights.
—' I will die for you, my darling," ho
exclaimed, passionately. "Will you be
mv wife?" "Get jour life insured before
von <1 ic. and I guess it's a go," said she.
The people's medicine —Hood's Sar
...iparilla. Its success is due to its peculiar
—"What is sweeter than to have a Jriend
you can trust?' asked Sawkins. "To hara
a friend who will trust you," replied Daw- -
Mr. Crook (to chnm)—"So you've beett
getting married to Maria during my üb»
.eucef Who was best niftnf' Woeful