YOL. XXX. Special to the Trade. -MEL'S GRAND BARGAIN SALE.#- This sale is a grand clearance sale. I will soon start East and be fore going I wish to reduce my stock, so i have gone through all goods and have placed 011 sale a Lrgc b>t of Men's, La dies', Hoy's, Misses' and Children's Shoes and Oxfords to fit and suit all and at extremely low prices. Bargain seekers should not let tin's grand op portunity pass by as these are greater bargains than ever before offered. Full stock of Gent's fine Russia Calf Shoes, lace or Blucher style, at $2.75 to $4.00. Full st< ck of La dies' Russia Calf Bluchers, common sense or piccadillyr style, at $2.00 to $3.50, all styles and w idths. Our stock of Ladies'and Misses' Oxfords is larger than ever before, prices 75c to $2.50. Men's Black Oxfords at SI.OO. Men's Tan Oxfords at $1.25. Men's Southern Ties at $1.50. Full lock o! Men's Dongola and Wine Color Creole shoes at $1.50. Men's Patent Leather Shoes at $5-5". Men's Patent Leather Pomps at Our stock ot Men shine Shoes is large and prices very low. Men's Calf Shoes $1.50, any style. Men's Kangaroo shoes $2 50; hand-sew 1 Cordovans $4. AN J3 MANY OTHER BA IiOA. I NS. At all times a full stock ol our own make box-toe boots and shoes. BOOTS AND SHOES MADE TO ORDER. REPAIRING NEATLY DONE. Orders by mail will receive prompt attention. When in need of anything in my line ;ive me a call. JOHN BICKF;I, 128 SOUTH MAIN STREET. • BUTLER. PENN'A. 1 ; ..? This is a perfect picture of our new Furniture and Housefiirnishing Goods house. One of the largest, and most complete stores of the kind in Western Pennsylvania. FURNITURE: We have all kinds, Parlor Suites, Bedroom Suites, Hall Racks, Dish and Book Cases, Side Boards, Dining Tables, Chairs, Baby Buggies, Refrigerators, &c, &c. QUEENSWARE: Decorated Dinner Sets, Tea Sets, Plain White Dinner Sets, Decorated and Plain White Toilet Sets from to SIO.OO. Ask to see our Toilet Set at ss.oo,cheapest and best in the world. Lamps, &c. HOUSEFURNISHING GOODS: Cook Stoves and Ranges, Tinware, Wood en Ware, &c. Don't fail to see our new range the "Perfect,"one of the best cook stoves and ranges on the market for tne money. Every stove warranted. Campbell & Templeton, " ! ♦ "" Jewelry, Clocks, Silverware, Purchasers can save from 25 to 50 per cent by purchasing their watches, clocks and spectacles of J. R. GRIEB, The Jeweler, . No. 125 N T . Main St., Duffy Block. Sign of Electric Bell and Clock. All a.e Respectfully Imited —"Remember our Repairing Department—2o years Experience."— THE BUTLER CITIZEN. ■ THE KIND * I THAT CURES 1 * —^ I p ■* ; I m • v w ■ g W I ll#i* - ;r= 'fWw Ps* \?K " f;'.\ Justs" Kir.Ki y. 2.\i>, I >!»■ V. jpg (Dyspepsia to? r -0 Years U? j TRIEI* EVERYTHING, i ACU R E . I Pno ficttoi* eut thuth F I | DANA S3 g GK.vr. -i o l.n •! 1 treat -.ufff.'rr i : .-"- wm •• r yesu-M M I iiVsiM'.PMI A ajj 1 I \ »;«. *-HI S l O SI.«:KI' tVKI.I. I ■ • V .r.-t sill" «!i»on!r-r. I r :,i- fmy di;.'.-:ivo otjsi. I H| I bought a bottle o! HS i |g DANA'S ss ! i SARSAPARILLAI. Han,] it HELPCI} ft Ml'( ll£- I bought the 8- t or;«l. 11-f.that v - t ki-i «■ ■ u>v lIYSPKPSIA WAS ( ! MKD.fIE = 1 ! (Oil.) g \LL \K.HT. i I.i: r \ ■ \ EW M V V. V...iri U . W = Mu*er.t, N. V. JOHN KIKKt.V, 2;- !. =h_ H To whom it may concern:—XV? erf* w« !l a.'- ifi with Mr. Kirkey, and knuiv t:..it tu 1 = \v»ul«t not inukv :in.v utati-mcni ihatMj ■ ""* untrue. STLARNS & SXAITII. wB —= M*ucna, N. Y. Drujgwta. == ■ * 5 DANA'S LIVER AND KIDNEY PILLS aro< ■ worth their weight In Gold. They are® ■""D. D. D.'S.-OANA'S DISEASE DE-gi Try a bottle at our risk. B jjj Dana Sartaparllla Co., Beliast, Mains, gp I feed. For jrio-s u:.d terms A.d --drei-s, .i, \v. m i lli:r, 131 Mtrcer Si , Hntlcr'Pe. SPRING STYLES READY. •ev&tv. 'ct irg'isv. YOU WILL CERTAiNJ.Y HAVE A SLIT ADE TO ATTEND THE WORLDS FAIR. YOU CAN AF FORD IT,WHEN YOU SEE THE SPLEN DID ASSORT ENT CE ATERIAL, AND THE MOD ERATE PRICE AT WHICH WE MAKE YOU A SUIT TH \T IS CORRECT TO 'J HE I-ATEST DECREE OF FASHION. Aland's, Tailoring Establishment. C. & D. ALWAYS Take into confiideratiou »bat money saved is as good as money earned. The best way to ?ave money is :o bay good poods at the right price. The only reason that < ur trade is increasing constantly is the fact that we handle only goods of first quality and sell them at, very low prices We have taken nou-ual care to provide everything new in Hats and Furnishing Goods for this season, and as we have control of many especially good articles in both lines we can do you good if you come to us. We confidently fray that in justice to themselves all purchasers should inspect our goods. Visit us, COLBERT & DALE, 242 S. Main street, Butler, Pa, rt sf n Tr to *5 ten n *■ 2 U A)S &I 1 ' * flr, ft rrri ii i 1 i iiiil IS T 03T F C E ! *TY , TUE WELL- W flft 7 6 C Si grap tier;formerly 21 v A \> Lk the head ot the ' Wr-rtz-Hardm a n Art Co., will opeu a Studio and Photo I'ar lors opposite the Hotel Lowry, Cor, Main and Jefterson Stx , Hutler, Pa This will be the best, lighted and equipped Studio and galleries in the the county. The work wilt be strictly iir.'t cl.is< and ;ri tle under new formulas by the artist, himself, who has had 15 years practical experience in large cities Portraits iu Oil, Crayon, Sepia, Pastel, Ac. In this lino we have no competition, Our portraits aro made by hand in our own Studio, from sittings or from photos Our work has reached the highest standard of excellence ai.d is not to be eonipaiv t with the cheap ui - chine made pictures furnished by others. Wast for us; get your pictures from us stud , be happy. UNSOPHISTICATED. Ste was bashful, self-eonsciou9 but rosy, Tt.i fro-,:. little bud from the fields; She'd olufeh like the heart of a posy When to tho soft zephyr it yields. An 1 not be it.• well up In grammar. She'J of.cn »ay "came" stead of "come," And she'd pick at her apror. and stammer, And "at home." witb this maid, -5 "to hum." And the Question; she'd ask you were funny On matters irrelevant quite; But her smile was £0 open and sunny, To ::nswer them all was delight. And she'd i 11 you, with naive little touche* Of frankness confiding as svreet. Of things the most personal, such as Her age and the size of her feet. And cf auizzinj she'd never suspect you. Though amu.ied at her sallies you were, And her laughter uncurbed would infect you As well a« her "bon ltommie" rare. As for gl«n£—' -t ti'n . here the curtain, And t itry olatig. mind you. pt that: And, heavens: the town belles, I'm >. Ttain 'Most swooned at the style of her hat Yet, still, this sweet maiden bucolic Had virtue enough in her way: Though rather too reaJy to frolic, She kept moonlttj dudelets at bay. In faci, Ehe had just ••r.cue'i "Fumption," Or call it good sense, if you please, WhUq blandly ignoring presumption. With a look the to freeze. And then she could get up such dishes. And "flxin's an' things," that you'd crwn That never such cooking delicious To tickle your palate you'd known. Besides, she made all her own dresses As weil as her sisters', they say, And neatly she groom-, d her brown tresses, Though not in conventional way. So while all the jrirls in the city. Where she'd ' come for to visit a spell," Tried, each, to be brilliant and witty f And laughed at her frequent "do tell," She kept her own gait most demurely. Nor noticed their quizzing ard chi.T, And, all quite unconscious, was surely On them neatly turning the laugh. For soon it appeared thtt this posy, So verdant and fresh from !h" fields: So blushing, confidir.? rtn '. r^sy, With arts that true innocence wields. Had onptured nobility's scion. The hope of the citlfit- l belie. Who said, ai she sighed for her lion; "Well there! Did you ever: Do tell.'" —Emile PiekharcW, in Detroit Free Press. THE VILLAGE OPERA. A Lesson That Was Taught by the Good Singer. Near a little village in the south oi Saxony there dwelt a musician. It seemed that he had always been living there, and yet in appearance he was not old. His eyes were full of fire, and the dark clustering hair still fell away from his smooth, high forehead. His figure was still eject and his step buoyant and firm. Ho lived alone upon the mountain that liunp over the pretty valley. The children could plainly see shining above them oil the cliff, white against the purple shadows. "See!" they would say to each other, "that is where tho good singer lives." When he came down into the little town they would stand In the door ways, smiling as he passed. But they did not have that chance very often, for mostly his way lay upward to the moun tain's crest, where, above the clouds that hid the summit from the sight of those below, he spent days fitting alone in the sun. Then he would cpme down again to his little cottage, bring ing with him beautiful songs and har monies which he would Work out in his study and set down in a music scroll. While he was gone on these trips to the mountain top, the villagers were alwaj's on the lookout; and one Of their mjmber had leave from his work in the fields in order that he might constantly watch so as to let the others know when the singer should return. The watcher's post was high on a cliff, in full view oi the path winding down from above Here, by bending ont with *he aid of a stout bush, he could see the men at work far below. If the breeze were favorable, he could even hear their laughter or catch a strain of a song or two which the singer had taucjht them. Then, swinging himself back upon the cliff, he would watch the path that led up into the mountain. In time he would always be rewarded by a sight of the singer coming down from the rocks to his cottage below. When he came near enough, the watcher would always lean forward to catch the expression in his eyes. They seemed full of the sun, with that rare light indeed which come 9 only from looking down upon the world like the sun itself. Such a sight the watcher prized always as the chief treasure of his memory. He who caught It was very fortunate, for, as the singer drew nearer to the village nest ling in the valley, this strange light faded slowly, and his face became as before, full indead of nobility and sweet ness, but not as luminous as it had been. When, however, at the bidding of the watcher, the villagers thronged into the singer's study at nightfall, the lus trous eyes would half glow again with their former fire as he sang to them the songs he had brought with him from the mountain top. A hush fell upon the men and women as they listened. They clasped hands silently and smiled through their happy tears. If, per chance, anyone stood in the crowd who had aught against a neighbor, his face relaxed as the singer sang, and his hand stole out shyly to his enemy, who grasped it eagerly, and the men were friends. And if two women had quar reled at their tasks, they laid Jtheir beads in women fashion upon each oth e?'s shoulders, and, weeping, became sisters once more. So the singer sang, and as the light from the hearth fire ahone upon his face the villagers thought: "It is an angel who brings to us the songs he has gathered at the feet of God!" Thus year in and out they went from tae fields and from the fireside up to the little study of the singer. They brought with them their common vex atiens and trials. They came some what hardened with the week's toil and struggle, somewhat burdened with their daily cares, for they were simple folk and their valley was not over bountiful. But one by one their burdens dropped away as they listened to the singer; and they took back with them to theirjhousesall the warmth and beauty and comfort of his songs. It happened now and then that one, touched more than usual by some song, would beg to hear it again. But smilingly the singer would answer that all the songs were being written into one great opera, and when he should hear the whole he would find his song again. Sometimes a mother would say, pleadingly: "Give me the little song which has spoken so comfortably t° me. It is like the prattle of the little one who rests so deep that 1 can no longer take her in my arms." But the singer, smiling still, shook his head, and began another song so tender and sweet and yet so joyful that the vil lagers held their breath, and even the mother no longer yearned for the song which had been sung and was already folded away within the scroll of the great opera now almost full. They said among themselves: "How beauti ful must the entire work be, since these are only parts!" Some, indeed, more outspoken than the rest, safd often to the singer: "When shall we hear the whole opera?"' Then the singer, smil ing ever, answered: "Bide thou, friend, and never grow impatient." At last, however, there came an even ing when the singer said to his people: "The opera is done!" They cried out joyfully: "Now we shall hear it all!" But he checked them, saying: "Xay, you may not hear it yet." His voice grew very gentle, as though he grieved to disappoint them. "Good friends," he went on, tenderly, "we have dwelt very together, and y<?ur lovo has HTTTLER, PA., FRIDAY, JULY l-i, 1893. vefy dear to tne. Now, however, I must leave yoo, for there are other songs for me to sing and other operas for me to write. I may not sing them here, for all my songs to you are sung. I must go to other villages." But they cried: "Why dost thou leave us alone? Witnout thee we shall have no more singing."' He answered: "I c. .v not linger, d'ja.- friend; for if I tarried here I should miss those other songs which will be given me to sing Do you not know that beyond your mountain there are other villages that need the songs 1 have for them? Are you not willing that they should have their music also?" They wept, saying: "Thou wert our father, and we thy children, thou knowMt; Vit henceforth without thee we shall be mute." lie, however, smiled and said: "Xay, I have tasks for you." He held before them the scroll in which were enfolded all their songs. "You must learn the opera which I have written, holding all the songs which I had in trust for you. When T return we shall sing it: for there are many tunes, and many times, and many keys. Without me to guide, vou miss the central harmony. But unto eaeh will I give the song I t*ang for him alone, an 3 he shall learn it VJ heart, that, when I return, alto gether we tuay sing the opera, and I will lead the whole.'' He divided the scroll among them, and to each he gave his piece, some large, some small, but every one hav ing written upon it the song that had been made for the receiver alone. Then he dismissed them tenderly. They went out weeping into the night, for £hey grieved bitterly at being parted from their singer. But they said among themselves: "Shall we mur mur because he goes to sin? to others? Nay, did he not even tell us that if he tarried he might lose the songs which he should gather upon other mountains? Surely that were a pity!" Thus they comforted themselves. And w'ten by their own firesides each found upon his scroll the song which most had touched him in the other days, he fell Weeping to his knees and thanked the good God who had given the singer this message entirely for himself. In the morning the village stirred with a new life. The rflen went to the field, carrying their scrolls with them, and as. they rested from their work they set about learning their song. It was truly like a meadow of unfledged farks learning to pip \ At home the women, as they busied themselves with household tasks or plied their needles, sang cheerily as they spelled out each new phrase. So through the day they worked, laughing gleefully at each other's mistakes and false notes. At night they gathered together for a mo ment to think of the singer who had gone from vliem, but had left them each his song, neither too high nor too low, but just adapted to his voice and capa ble of bringing out all its sweetest tones. "The good singer," they said, "how well he knew us all!" So the days were spent in practice. If by chance anyone grew weary and his hope failed, or if, cast down for the moment, he feared that the singer might not, after all, return, he would reassure himself, saying: "How grand will the whole chorus sound!'' Some times, too, one became spiritless and disi -.-ag-ed over his task, rebelling at his discords. Then would another say to him: "Shall then the singer when he comes be disappointed in thee? What if, lacking thy one part, the whole opera should wait?" Thus they cheered each other. As the seasons waned, however, and the singer came not, the little doubts began to grow stronger, the little dis couragements were less easily recovered from, and even (among the more indo lent "of the villagers) could be heard murmurs. "Of what use," they grum bled, "is this trill here and that note there? I never can sing it in that way; no one will know if I leave it out." An other was bolder still. "I will not trouble myself with that phrase," he would say: "I will write it over to suit myself." Still others, more self-willed than the rest, cried out: "Oh the stupid song! it was good enough for last year, but I have quite overgrown it. lam sick of its old drone. I will make an other like it, but more varied and bet ter suited to my voice, w-hich of late has grown so 'much stronger." And there were one or two who found thoir songs so small in comparison with oth ers that they were quite angry and gave up their parts altogether. In vain did the wiser heads in the vil lage remonstrate, for soon, indeed, most of the villagers had followed the lead of their bolder neighbors and altered their songs tq suit themselves. So it came about that only a few re tained tho simple, sweet melodies which the singer had left them. Of the rest, some had put in new notes and left out old ones, spme had changed the key of their song to another which they thought more suitable to their voice, and some had so varied and simplified their songs that the original theme could scarcely be discerned. Most, in deed, were, in this way and in that, quite different from the songs left them by the singer. It was true that a few who thus changed their scrolls found out their mistake too late, and tried to erase the .alterations they had made. But here and there they had forgotten a note in the original melody, which, try as they might, they could not re store. The villagers were in this condition when, one morning, as, according to their custom, they iooked up to the lit tle empty cottage on .the cliff, they found, to their great surprise, that it was again occupied. They had waited so long that at first they could not credit their own eyes; but as they looked they saw the yellow smoke curl up from the chimney, and they couhl no longer doubt that at last the singer had returned to them. With mingled feelings they awaited his summons to the study, some with joy of hope ful filled, others with a sense of their own insufficiency and shortcomings, and some with a heavy weight of shame. And, truly, many lagged behind when the little procession wound up the mountain to tho cliff. None, however, was so covered with dismay and con fusion, or so steeped in ingratitude, that he stayed behind altogether. Even the most willful of them all cared too much for the singer for that. So, half-hastening, half-lingering, the villagers went to greet him. When all were gathered together in the study they knew so well, and saw him standing as they had so often seen him, erect in the firelight, watching them with the old luminous, tender eyes, now smiling, now sad, they fell at his feet with a cry, and, holding up their worn and blotted scrolls, they sobbed out their joy and their sorrow, their struggle and their failure, like children from their tasks at school. The singer heard them with a gentle Ijmile. He passed among them touch ing now one and now another who seemed most in need of comfort. By and by a hush fell upon them all. "My people," he began slowly, "I have not lacked tidings of you in the distant villages where I have dwelt. I have heard how it has fared with tho "songs which I left you, and how yon bave forgotten the melodies which I taught you. You have spoilt their beauty and their sweetness, and you have perverted their meaning by addi« tions and renderings of your own. But Ijecanse you have not forgotten me, the singer, I have come to you that I may teach you again the songs which I sang to you. Faulty indeed now would be the opera if I should join ajl these blott£fl scrolls Into OBe, for the har monies are grown discordant. You must learn them over again. But that you may not fail another time, I wish yon to understand the full meaning of tach song that 1 gave you, and how necessary each is to the harmony of the whole. Then, with renewed hope and earnestness, you may set to work once "Wore. L therefore, knowing how you liao failed, have brought with me, fronj pther villages which have better learned tasks which I set them, a choir oi singing men who will sing your oper» for you, and show you how each song and its place in the whole." He opened an inner door. There, in the full glow of many candles, stood a band of men and boys, and on their faces was a light that resembled the singer's. They all carried scrolls writ ten in the singer's own hand. He him self, stepping forward, gave them the signal. On a sudden they began all at once to sing, and the sound broke ou the people like a sea of light. They raised their faces from the ground and wiped away their tears. They seemed bathed in the glorious harmony. With wonder they looker 1 , at each other. One said: "Surely tha , cannot be my little song!" and another: "Could mine have soumled like that?" And they clasped each other's hands as in the old days, and wept with joy. Theji the singer began to sing above them all a song Which they had never heard. It filled the pauses of the other songs, and glor ified them. When the last notes died away, they stood hushed and awed, and their faces shone like the faces of the choir wen. They said: "Sing us again that new song." But the singer answered, smil ingly: "Nay, you must learn your own songs first. Then will I sing you the new one, completing your harmonies with the master song." The villagers, still clasping each other's hands, with their hearts full of joy and love of the singer, cried out, eagerly: "Give us again our old songs, that we may learn to sing them aright." lit, still smiling, took from the choir men the fresh scrolls written in his own hand, and gave them to the villagers. Then they went slowly back to their quiet valley. But the singer stood long in his study window, looking down upon them from the cliff. He smiled gently, and said softly to himself: "Bide thou, and never be impatient," just as he had so often said to his peo ple.—Christian Union. Captains Are Captains. As a magnificent steamer, the prop erty of the Peninsular & Oriental com pany, was steaming into Southampton harbor, a grimy coal-lighter floated im mediately in front of it An officer on board the vessel, observing this, shouted: "Clear out of the way with that barge." The lighterman, a native of the Emerald isle, shouted in reply: "Are ye the captain of that vessel?" "> T o," answered the officer. "Then spake to your aiquals," said Pat. "I'm the captain of this."—Lon don Figaro. —Fortune Teller (to extravagantly dressed girl)—" Your husband will be & poor man—unless—" Maiden (eager ly) —"Unless what?" Fortune Teller— "You dress more economically after marriage than you do now."—lJp.rper'a HOAXES ABOUT CANNIBALS. There Is Not Near So Much Man-Eating as Generally Reported. Dr. Livingstone, in a hitherto unpub lished letter, warns his friend. Dr. Hamilton, against accepting too read ily stories of cannibalism among Afri can tribes. The Manyuema, among whom he had been then living for many months, are reputed to be canni bals, and the people themselves, being "a laughter-loving" race, appear to en joy the joke of hoaxing the white man on this subject. One showed Dr. Liv ingstone the head of a "recent human victim," but it proved to be the skull of a gorilla. Dr. Livingstone persever ingly tried to get a sight of one of the cannibal orgies which the traders profess to have seen or heard of, but in vain. Ho offered goods of the value of £1 to any one who would call him to see human fleSh cooked or eaten, but nothing came of the offerl Livingstone con trasts this absence of evidence with the terrible traders' tales he had heard at Ujiji and the information given by adjacent tribes. "If I had believed," he says, a "tenth part of what I heard I should never have ventured hither." An Odd Instrument. The Scandinavian "lur" is a slender bronze horn in the shape of an S. It is found in the bogs of Sweden and the coast of Germany near Denmark. Its length is six to seven feet, and the twist is in two planes. The metal is thin, and cast in sections, which have been fitted together. There is no ex isting musical instrument like it, and its probable age is two to three thou sand years. Not long ago some of these ancient "lurs" were played at a concert given by Dr. Angul Hammerich at the Museum, Copenhagen. Blood In Their Eyes. More than twenty years ago A. R. Wallace published a letter from a Cali fornia correspondent which said that the horned toad squirted from one of its eyes "a jet of bright red liquid very much like hlood." Of course everybody thought it was "a California yarn." Now Mr. O. P. Hay has proved that horned toads do squirt a red liquid from their eyes when vexed, and that the liquid is blood. Ilow to Be Ilappy. Old Gent—On the eve of your mar riage let me give you a piece of advice. Remember when your wife's next birthday comes, and give her a hand some present. Young Man—Yes, oi course. "Give her the best your pocket can buy every birthday, hut at Christmas, New Year's, and such times, give her only inexpensive little tokens. Form that habit." "Yes; but why?" "It will pay." "I presume so." "Yes. In a few years you can begin to forget the birthdays, and she won't say a word." —N. Y. Weekly. Doing the Bight Thing. Young Man—l deliver ice at your house and I thought I'd sec if you wouldn't do the right thing by me in the purchase of a ring for a young woman. Jeweler—llow high do you want to go? Young Man —About eight dollars. Jeweler —You deliver ice at my house, you say? Young Man —Yes. Jeweler —Well, there's a six-dollar ring, but under the circumstances you may have it for eight. —Judge. in Chicago. She —Mrs. Lakeleigh is very lucky. Every time she marries, she gets a rich husband. He —Yes; and always divorces a poor one. —Life. Brilliant Work. "King writes me that he is doing some very brilliant work now." "Yes; he is writing ads. for a new stove polish."—Demorest's Magazine. A Valuable Pointer. "I know how to succeed on Wall street." "Gives us the tip." "Keep out of it." —Texas Siftings. A Diplomat. Gladys—Do you admire black eyes or blue? Aliar—The light is so dim here, I really can't say.— Puck. THE ODORIFEROUS OftlON. ftoue People Don't I.lke It, Hat It II Good for Tliem. Onions, said a traveling man to a St. Louis Globe-Democrat reporter; at* too vociferous in their odor and too self-assertive to be liked by anyone possessed of u very strong veill. They offer too much opposition. There i» more to the onion, however, than Its mere odor. Onions aro a kind of all around good medicine and every housewife knows this wit holt t know ing why. She knows that a solid red anion, eaten at bedtime, will by the next morning break the severest cold. She also knows that onions make a good plaster to remove inflammation and hoarseness. But she does not know why. If anyofie would take an onion and mash it, so as to secure all of the juice in it, he would have most re markable smelling salts —an odbr that would quiet the most nervona person in no time. The strength of it for a few moments will dull the sense of smell and weaken the nerves until sleep is produced from sheer exhaustion. It all comes from one property possessed by the onion, and that is a form of opium. Oniopp are narcotic in their tendencies, and for that reason the very best kind of food. Anyone wjio eats a late supper and imagines that he will not be able to sleep had better order a disb of fried onions and close hts meal with them. There will be no danger of wakeful ness then. The amount of opium in a saucerful of fried onions will overpowor the most sensitive digestive organs, evctf when disturbed by a late meal, and one can sleep just as well as thouf h ho meal had been eaten. The Chines® understand the onion better than the other "nations of tho earth. A Chijja man will mix dried onion sprigs with tobacco and smoke them. They prob ably find it lends additional charm to a genial pipe and brings on that condi tion of dreamy wakefulness which ia the final end of all smoking. CURIOUS GROWTH OF RATTAN. Tough Wood of the Climbing Palm Tra* Found In the Malayan Countrl**. Everyone knows the pretty, light and graceful chairs and other articles of furniture made from rattan, but every one does not know that the extremely tough and flexible wood called rattan is that of the climbing palm tree. This curious climber, which is more of a vine than a tree, is said by the Phila delphia Times to be one of the singular characteristics of forest growth in the Celebes and other Malayan countries. Starting with a trunk a little thicker than a man's arm, it winds through the forest, now wrapping a tall tree in its fold, like some gigantic snake, and then descending again to the earth and trailing along in snakelike curves until it can find some other stately tree to fasten and climb upon in ita pursuit of light and air. The forest is so thick and jungle-like that It seems impossible to follow the course of any of these serpent climbers, but there Is little doubt that at the last the successful aspirant, which stooped and cringed so long below, will be found shooting- up like a flagstaff a dozen feet or more above the tree which has helped it to rise. A use of rattan which is unknown to those who have not seen it in its native forest is as a water carrier. The thirsty traveler has at all times a tumbler o' cool, re freshing water at hts command by cut ting- off six or eight feet of rattan and putting one of the severed ends to his mouth or holding it over a dish to catch the water. NOT A MODERN INVENTION. Tho Bicycle Said to Have I teen First l/»*d by a Young Frenrh l'hysiclan In 1066. "The popular belief is that the bi cycle is a modern invention, when in fact it really dates back to the seven teenth century," said I)r. T. C. Minor, according to the Cincinnati Star, "t learned this one day when I was mak ing some translations from the Jour nal de Medicine de Paris. Ozaram, in 1094, in his 'Mathematical and Physical Recreations,' tells of a carriage, as he calls it, 'in which one can ride without the use of horses.' And then he goes on to tell of how a lackey sits at the back, makes it run by 'walking alter nately with his two feet by means of two small wheels concealed In a case just between the wheels behind and attached to the axle of the carriage.' This was the principle of the veloci pede, so much improved since then. But the priority of the discovery of the bicycle I believe to be established without further argument or dispute. It was by a physician, Eli Richard, a young physician of Roche lie, France, who made the first machine after which our modern bicycle Is pat» terned. He was a medical student in Paris in 1066, and became one of the great physicians of France. He died St the age of sixty-one at Rochelle in 1700, and there is a street in Rochelle named for him, and there is now a movement on foot to erect a bronze statue, not to Michaud, who it fa claimed was the discoverer of the bicy cle, but to the true discoverer. Dr. Eli Richard." The Cause of Earthquakes. Earthquakes are due to the phenom ena of plication or folding of the earth's upper strata. The same ten sion and compression which produced many of the mountain ranges is hero in action. As the interior of the earth cools it contracts and tends to lcava the outer crust behind. The weight of this outer crust, however, is greater than it can sustain, and is therefore compelled to wrinkle. Thus geologists explain the great ridges and furrows which constitute continents and river basins and they compare this folding of the earth's crust with the wrinkling of the skin of a dried apple. While the process of wrinkling or folding Is going on the mighty movement, of course, destroys the equilibrium of the rock strata, and in consequence earth quakes occur and continue with greater or less violence until the equi librium is again restored. Ko Competition. "You say you have no competition in this line," said the traveling agent to the merchant "That's what I said." "But there are two other men selling these goods here." "I know it. But neither of them ad vertises." —Washington Star. It Depended. With a view to giving a perform aßce in the evening the manager ol the traveling dramatic eompany was inspecting the building called by the enterprising Arizona proprietor an opera house. "Yes, it's large enough," he said, "and the lighting arrangements seem to be about right, but it hasn't exits enough. In case of a sudden alarm there would bo a crush. Did you ever try to find out how long it takes to empty the haU?" "You bet I have!" aaswered the pro prietor. "A dog fight on the outside will empty the buildin' in twenty seven seconds by the watch." —Chicago Tribune. Where tlic Good* Went. Mrs. Kerstylc—l gave you more ma terial to make this dress than T ever used in a garment before and the skirt is hardly full enough to fit a chnrn. How does that happen? Dressmaker (shrugging her shoul dors) —Madame inseestcd on having* zc sleeves in ze height of ze fashontt— Demorcst's Magazine. YARDS FOR CHICKS. The Oakland Murablr Kan and How It la Coaatrartcd. When chicks arc just placed in a brooder or under a hen some handy yard is wanted to confine them, and with this end In vieiv I give cuts and description of a panel used in our yards. Fig. 1 shows the panel. This should be constructed of boards and pickets. Procure fence boards 0 inches wMe and P —D □ \v/ \ ■ I r / U // . u li ns. i. either 12 or 16 feet long, and saw lengthwise through the center; this will give two long strips 3 inches wide, to be used for the top and bottom frame. Next procure 3 pickets 4 feet long and nail one at each end and the other in the center, then attach braces at opposite corners as shown in the cut. The pickets should be nailed so as to project 1 inch above the top of the frame and 11 Inches below, these to be 3 .n. ....... .T j u C FIO. 2. sharpened so as to be readily driven Into the ground. Fig. \ shows a panel completed. The frame is covered with five-cent muslin stretched tightly over the frame and well tacked down with common tacks. A pen made from four of these will be 16 feet square and is room enough for 100 chicks for one or two weeks, when they can be allowed to roam where they please. We use these pens to place around the brooders, so as to pre vent the young chicks straying too far from their home. These frames can be built for 2.1 cents, and will last several years with proper care. Fig. 3 shows an excellent plan for a roost. A represents the roost, which can be any length desired. D D arc staples to attach the wires C to and should be well driven into the roost. C is the wire supports cut to yi ft \b fit A c A jc \i d <v FIO. 3. any length, so as to have the roodt sus pended about 10 inches above the drop ping board. It are the hooks cjn the ends of the wires to fasten into staple* to support the roost. The staples where B is attached should be about 12 inohes apart, which will prevent the roost from swinging. The roots are easily kept free from lice, as there are no mortices to lay eggs in and thus escape fumigating. Also the roost can De easily detached, by unhooking at B and removed from the building and cleaned. Kerosene oil should be applied to the roosts once every week, also they should be taken out and saturated with oil, and then set lire to; this will de stroy all vei.nin.—Ohio Farmer. DOUBLE-BOARD COOP. Dow to Make One Suitable for Two liroods of Clilcks. A reader sends us a plan of a double board coop, for two broods of chicks. The coop is four feet square, the back being eighteen inches high, and the highest point (center) being twenty four inches. It slopes in front 'rom ohe foot high at the center to two inches. In the illustration, Ais a sash, fastened with hinges to the front of the coop (B). the sash being raised or lowered as desired. This sash may be DOUBLE-BOABD COOP FOR OHICKS. made of wire cloth of about seven eighths-inch mesh, to allow warmth, air and light to enter, and also to allow of arranging a center board between the two broods. The frame of the coop is fastened to the floor with hingee at the back part, so as to allow of raising it at the back also, if desired. No glass should be used iu the sash. If the weather is severe, cover the sash with boards or tarred paper. C and D show the upper and lower sides of the coop, and E the two-incli board in front The coop protects against rats, cats, hawks, etc.—Farm and Fireside. Save tl»e Feed. Bear in mind that this is the summer season and that the hens are not com pelled to combat the snow and cold of winter. They do not require food to warm their bodies to the point of re sistance to cold, and the food that was converted into animal heat in winter is easily saved now. The hens do not require muih aid from their owners at this season, and if they are fed heavily the food will be lost if the liens have a range. It is not only best to be sparing of food, but it is also a matter of econo my. —Farm and Fireside. LETTUCE —have plenty of lettucf grown for summer feeding to confined poultry. A Student of Human Nature. Mr. Ilostleigh—But. my dear, you lave ordered dinner for only thirty persons, when fifty have accepted our Invitation. Mrs. Ilostleigh (with a look of pity) —Edward, will you never learn? You know our dining hall will only hold thirty persons. Well, the twenty who do not manage to get in at the first table will think the fortunate thirty were hogs and ate everything up.— Puck. The Angler. With alia CO rod and a tw reel. With a £OO line And a 4.00 creel: A book full of £OO And 4-00 flies, 4way with his 12.00 ticket he hies. Thus he spends WJ.OO ere he starts out. And returns in a week with 10 worth of trout, And the Hut a blank won't supply The thirty-nine ninety—the sujn he Is shy. —San Francisco News Letter Love's Young I>r»am Young Man (gazing dreamily at the candy case in fancy grocery store)—l —l —wish to—to get something—some thing real nice for a young lady, but I hardly know what to select Grocer (briskly)— Very young? " 'Bout seventeen." "Still going to boarding school?" "Yes, sir." "John, show this gentleman the fickle counter."— fciftjngs. MO 32. i V-SHAPED SCRAPER. A* Implement for M>kls( Drainage Chemp and Easy. Make a V-shaped Si-niper out of two heavy plauks. aud on the lower ridge of one bolt a straight piece of steel to act like the land skle of a plow. On the lower edge of the other bolt a steel share, B. After having driven stakes where the diteli is to be, cut a furrow with a two-horse plow on either side of them hut five feet from them. Have the V-shaped scraper follow the plow and shove the soil further out Let the teams go down and back until the center is reached, which results in a deep, dead furrow. Then let the plow begin this time only three feet from the stakes, and re- I' peat the process. When the trench is finished it will be fifteen to twenty feet wide, slipping easily to the center, ■ where it should be nearly three feet, deep. Land laid off in this manner can be easily seeded and surplus water will flow away quickly without tearing the soil. During summer mowers, reapers and loads of hay can easily cross the ditch without inconvenience. An open ditch that has abrupt sides is not only expensive to dig but expensive to keep clear, as a frost throws down the walls. Wide ditches carry away water faster than dwp gullies, and always without cutting away the soil. This is just as true on rapid descent as on ground that is nearly level. The weight of running water is what does the damage. Spread it out and the danger will be overcome.—A. C. West In Farm and Home. FARM PHILOSOPHY. SOMK men oomplain of hard times who sleep themselves into poverty. DOK'T complain of your wiful extrav agance, with a cigar in your mouth. DKHOBRINO is crnel, when it is done with a club in the hands of an angry man. WHY don't these fellows who know the short roads to success ever try them? THE woman who tells others how does not always keep her own house the tidiest STAND around with your hands in your pockets, and see how quick you Will get rich. THE commandment to rest one day iu seven is just as binding on your horse as it is on you. IT will pay yon to practice the art of love making upon your horses. The more they love yon the better service they will give. American Agricul turist CRATER FOR POTATOES. A Great Saving of la Handling and HUrlßf. The cut with this article is a drawing of a box or crate for handling potatoes or apples. I have, used it for ten or twelve years, and should not like to do without it It holds one bushel even full. Such boxes stand side by side three in a wagon box and one upon an other as high as one wishes. The top > slats are raised a quarter of an inch I CRATB FOB APPLES OB POTATOES^ , above the ends, so that the top box will keep its position. A farmer pro vided with fifty or one hundred of these distributed in a potato field when dig ging can fill and leave them standing until he is ready to draw them, and will find them a great saving of labor -in handling, besides being very handy for marketing or cellar storage.—A. F. Clark, in Rural New Yorker. Half Holidays for Farmers. , Do you know any reason why a Sat urday half holiday should not be en joyed by the farmer and his family as it is by the big business houses in the cities? In the little towns of England a weekly half holiday is given to all who work in the "shops,'' stores. It is not Saturday in all towns, but is the same day each week. Wednesdays are often used in this way. America is too , pushing for her best good in some lines. A let up now and then, once a week, , say. will do much toward doing away with the nervous unrest and final breaking down of body and mind so frequently met with nowadaya.—Farm, Field and Fireside. How to root Craw*. To prevent crows from pulling up corn I have tried the following for three years, and it has saved me from replanting when my neighbors had to replant corn because it had been pulled up by crows. A day or so before plant ing pour some hot water over the seed corn. While the corn is still hot turu I in some oil of tar and mix well together enough to make the corn sticky. Add a little plaster to prevent it being sticky. If too much plaster is not s added the corn can be planted as well i with a planter as with a hoe.—Farm, Field and Fireside. _ Sweet Innocent*. "Mamma, mamma, I know now why I can't keep my hands clean ever." Mamma —Why is it? "Why, 'cause we're made of duett teacher told us so." —Chicago Inter Ocean. What He Had Learned. , Lady (entering shoe store) —1 would like to look at some number twos. New Boy (anxious to show his knowledge)—Yes'm; most every one looks at number twos first —Good News. Very Moving. "Wasn't that a moving sermon on do mestic charities by Dr. Monthly?" "Yes, indeed. Old Skynfivnt actually dropped a tear in a plate."—Harvard LamDooji. Desperation. Wild-Eyed Man—l want some sooth ing sirup, quickl Druggist—What bottle? r Wild-Eyed Man—Bottle! I want • k«g It's twins!—N. Y. Weekly Her Face Not Her Fortune. , She-They say he married Miss Wrinkles for her money. Ilaa she Tot much? ; He -She must have lota of iv H*ve you never seen her?— Life. A Companion for Mctilnty. Jones—l'm a near neighbor of yours, now, Mrs. Golightly; I've taken a house lon the river. Mrs. G.—Oh! I hope you'll drop in some da v. —Y ankaa
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers