VOLX X X I DON'T Want A Wheel? Just as oood time now, as any, O ' * to tliitik of buying, to compare pri ces and merits. We pin our best faith to the CLEVELAND and the PIIOEXIX. A wheel should be Punning, Guaranteed! Ladies Phoenix. We tl~|erri r\ow aqd will have ii\ tl\e Sprii\is. J. E. FORSYTHE. N 0-W FOR NOVEMBER! In order to greet this winter opening month in a manner befit ting its importance to the Dry Goods trade, we propose to make so-ne prices that wi'l warm the very cockles of the popular heart. We are better enabled to do this because just now in the gr~at textile markets of the world, concessions are the or<L-r of the day. Nobody is in better condition to take advantage of these th in our selves, and what we get — We Divide Willi \ 011. 25—:t«-M.eh Twillwl Blu»* Cloth r ®»' value, 40c 35,.— 45-.net> All-V.-d liine Cl»tli regular price. -)0.- 500— 46-inch '• Bln« S»rg« *' 501--4* inch " N..v«tty „ 75c—54-inch " K«velty Cloth "I '/" 75 ( ;—46-tnrh All-Silk 11-nriettan $1 00-34 inch All- «foid Covert Cl"th >( 1 *r| soc -Fancy Trim minify all c0|0r«.. % - * ( _' c flOc— per pair, rtilver or«y BlankeU $3 50—*11 Wool Whi'e BUukctM " 75i;—LwIIik' All Wool Skirt Hattern* " 50ii—pt-r nait. Men'* Katural Wool Suits " $1 00- - " " " "50 25u— Ludien' Fleece ! Lioed Ventß 35c— 41 " 41 ' u 50» — •* Nitural Wool KiMirrl V«hU " 4 —6inm! UtibVuebed Murlin " , a.- " •• :: 7 ° Si—B*-t American Print* (( sc—lle»t l)ora«"<tic oiti|(hamK " 10 Space forbids our mentioning the low prices that prevail in our Millinery and Wrap departments. Our Wrap department is the lar gest and best lighted in Butler. We are sole agents for the celebrat ed Rothchild Wraps, the most perfect fitting Wraps ever shown in Butler county. Mrs. Jennie E. Zimmerman SUCCESSOR TO RITTER & RALSTON GREAT UIIMTB UU OE OVERCOATS, - SUITS, Underwear, Sliirts, Hats, Caps, Hosiery, Ties, (doves, Mittens, Cardigan Jackets, Sv : iter*, rr.i-ik.4, V ilises, Telescopes, Watcher, Chains, 'harms, ii'iigs, Pins, Suspenders, Handkerchiefs, Brtuhes. I'urses, etc. Tiiis is NO CLEARANCE HALE Of Summer Goods, but oar regular stock of KALI AN!) WINTER GOODS. We show you the lar gest stock in Butler to select from and everything goes. Don't miss this rand + Opportunity. l^ We are the pioneers of LOW PRICES. We never were, never can and never will be UNDERSOLD. Bear this in mind, and don't make your purchases un til you see us. We feel satisfied we can do you good. D. A. HKCK,' 121 X. \lfiii\St., Duffy's Block, Buller, Po. J33L Buy a Buggy J that's reliable, when you do buy one. Fredonia Buggies e/er3 .hing in their favor—beauty, stability, ease. You can fin " this out by loot .t :it 'em. Yoi dealer sells them. Mack b} FREDi . i,\ MFG. CO., O. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. ThatTiredFeeling Is due to an impoverished condition Of th<> blood. It shomd be overcome without de lay. and the best way to accomplish this result is to take Hood's Sarsaparilla, which Hood's Sarsa -1 1 parilla will pnrily and vital- f -g |4AC ize the blood, pre M til. vZ? strength and appe tite and pro-^ice sweet and refreshing Be snre to get Hood's Sarsaparilla, and only Hood's. Hood's Pills euro nausea, and LiiiouaoMs. MARTHA WASHINGTON COOK-BOOK f COOf-J. 0 .-i ILLUSTRATED. ■ I ne ihc ***** k " r, W7?) »' I' | E| j7 Jl ro.:;; s fur all kin^a fßvPki J! of cooking. Also c- part j; » qn?* e, -n J Toilet re*. it>es. ' ind-xed f r handy refer- MfliL&D FRE.E, In Exchaug-o for n T AE(JE LION HEADS cut frori: I-if ". Cofree wrappers and a 2-eent fit -»jp. Wrlte f'.r i; • . ■ . i ■ haro many valur!' ■ r .: a Knife, (mm . etr., to Kiro tw*;.'. A L- ...xt:f«:l turo Card t.< eTery paekn;ror* I-I < < i r? WOQLSOH SPiCE CO: !-3». It is unnecessary «/ to bore you with the advertisement of our largest stock, best c? facilities, biggest business, etc. You know we have that. The important an nouncement is, We will Positively save you Money on your Fall Clothes. Our stock tables are resplendent with the newest patterns. See them. ALAND, TAILOR C."% D. A business that"l:eeps grow ing through a season ol de pression, sueli as the country has experienced, is an evi dence that people realize the) save money by trading with us. We know, and always have known, toe days of large profits are past. Without question we are giving inure for the money than last year Our stock is larger to select from than last year. CALL AND SEE US. Colbert & Dale. What You Need _j_ Is a Dictionary! HERE IT IS! One Webster lut. Dicticianey, sheep, with patent thumb index, together with one X'>v«'h patent n<i jnstable diction*'* hold- r—nil com plete for 1 O ~)() m We are lb* (mi- lir't! in the countv able to w Ki:irn:tle i-ehool mji pließ in cr mpetii i■, fi with large fir":* from Chicago »tni oilier cities Wi sed for I'!«h than other firms here puj for things. J. H. DOUGLASS, (WHOLIfALK AND Hktaii..) 241 S. Sain Street, Near I'ostoffir-. BUTLEK LUMBER C MPA.'.Y Shippers aud dealers in Irluildin. \lateria.]« Rough aud <lreused Lumber of kinds. Doors and Window*, ui;<. MouldingH ol nil kinds. H. E WICK, Manager Oflico buii Ysrd •, Ait l uiiiilnKhmii itii'l Noflroffttmti. Butler Dya Works, SIC I'fiilrr Auuuf, Bctlkb, la. The aliove establMimert ix now In run nin(t order, and in prepared t t fir *- claim Dyeing and Cleaning nf Ladies' >ud Gentlemen's Clothing and «■»h• r (food h t'u> need a new lea** on lift- in renovating sml brightening up generally. Ilitv- »«d 3.'. yearn experience in 'ln- dy-iiix Im-ine* . and ran guarantee g'xnJ results or go«.<i goods. GIVK 08 A CALL. R. Fi&har, Prop'r. Great Oiscovery. ' nd di*fii«uri nit wiwt'i - rmnnved wit'eut .. ku"« 'l'ld wix>out t» •in dur tii'-r join - i■' onlr n ho a«el ji'trtJ an'l per : n- rly iur . N>> ud til • ifi'd 1 tt. T .yL : >K t ! N't;. b2O Lftwrc/ ritTA-c, fitlrfbffrg MFTLKH. PA.,THURSDAY. NOVEMHKR 22. 1 Hi) 4. rUfjxr* li '"" KteKK ii (where lived Hiram Kelly "■ * an<l Prnliette, (!j\ h ' s sister) was ' a roughly clap boarded, uupainted building. Back of its main house was a summer mtchen, and back of that a large woodshed, open on the side next the yard. The wooden steps had rotted away from the front door and from the one lead ing- into the kitchen, and now these two stranded doors gave the place an almost abandoned look. Evidently the door from the shed into the sum mer or back kitchen was the only one in use. The house seemed to stand in the midst of a pasture; there was no fence about it, and the grass was cropped short, as if by sheep. On the hard earth under the open shed was a table, and sitting bv this table a woman. She had no lamp, and as she sat in the gathering shadows had come early into the great, bare shed as if finding it a congenial place), it was difficult at first to see her clear ly. She was a thin old woman, with sharp features—her eyes being per haps the sharpest of all. Her dress was a limp gown o# blue calico. On the table '-'as a plate of what looked like cold boiled potatoes and a cup of salt. She gave us a curt nod and then went on cutting off pieces of potato and sprinkling them with salt. "Can you let me have a little cream?" Miss Larned asked. "Well, 1 ain't goin' to stop eatin' to git it fur ye —thet's certain." JTe sat down on the board platform around the pump, and waited. I had come the day before to the Larned*' camp on the New York shore of Lake Ontario. Their tents were pitched on the end of a loi.g point that stretches out into the water. This evening Miss Larned had been sent after cream to the Kelly farmhouse, which was near by on the shore, and I had gone with her. We sat for some time on the pump platform waiting for I'ruliette Kelly to finish her meal. She was not quite alone. There were no cats or dogs about, but a bluish-gray hen —which also seemed to have a sharp, discon tented expression—stood bv her chair, and from time to time she fed it bits of the potato. When the old woman was done eating she got the pail of cream for us, and wc left. She had hardly spoken. A short distance from the farmhouse we met an elderly man. He was tall and bent, and walked slowly as if his companions were sober, familiar thoughts. "Oood evenin', miss," he said. "Ilev' you be'n to the house?" "We have just come from there. We got some cream from your sister." Then I was introduced to Hiram Kelly. There was a pile of cedar fence rails at the side of the path. He sat down on them, with a farmer's usual desire to rest his legs whenever possible. It was a pleasant July evening, and, as we were in no hurry, we also sat down on the rails. "So you've been ttik to see I'ruli ette?" he said, speaking to me. "I s'pose you thought her queer —folks mostly docs. Wa'al, she is queer; but she's smart, an' she's got her good points, too. Pruliette hes hed trials, an' the wust of all was thet she was born with a sharp tongue. I've heard father tell she got it nateral from mother's mother. She allers lied it, even when she an' I was little. When she grew up the young fellers was mostly "scairt of her. At last Jim "80 YOU'VE BKKN TUK TO SEE PRU LIETTE?" Lane come along; he was a widower with a little gal, Mandy, 'bout six years old. Jim made up to Pruliette, an' she seemed to kinder soften. She didn't talk sharp to him nor to the little gal. an' she was gentler with us all. 'Twas ull fixed, an' they was goin' to bo married; but some of the neigh bors told Jim (he was a stranger in these parts) what a name she hed fur bein' a scold. It scairt him out. "P'rhaps he thought she'd abuse lit tle Mandy. But she wouldn't hev'. She was real fond of that gal, an' she'd allers hev' treated her well; fur cbangin' her likes and dislikes ain't one of Prulictte's failin's. Wa'al, Jim Lane kinder sneaked off, hayin' he was goin' out west to git u home ready fur her I guess he was scairt to break it right off, after what he'd heard tell of Prulictte's tongue. She looked fur him to come back, an' got ready fur the weddin'. I suspicioned how 'twould be, an' so did father, who was livlu' then; but we didn't like say in' nothin' to her. She kep' on waitin' an' wait- In', till shu saw herself lie wouldn't come; an' then all the bitter come back, an' she got sharper than ever. She never speaks of him, but some times she says somethin' 'bout tittle Mandy." He paused, but only for a moments probably he did not have many oppor tunities of talking. "1 think she's allers hed a secret idee of runnin' acrost Jim an' findin' L didn't mean to leave her. Ten or twelve years ago a neighbor, George Ilarker, got some back pension money an' went out west to locate. He was goin'to come back an' get his wife, but he never did, an' she 'most went crazy. One of our older sisters, Sarah, hed married out in Kansas, an' she'd be'n writln' Pruliet te to come out an* visit h'*r. Along in the summer, after hayin', Pruliette s'prised me by sayin' site was goin'. I heard she told Jane Barker she'd bring her husband back to her. Off she went; an' she kep' her word to Jane Barker. She found George, reckless on' dead broke, out in u luinin' camp in Colorado (h«'d lost the money In some way an' wa'u't cumin' home); an' she brought him back an' handed him over to Jane same's if he'd been a stray cow. " 'But. Pruliette,' says I, wheu she got home, 'why didn't ye stay an' hev* a visit with Sarah?" " 'I did vibit with .Sarah,' hays Pru liette; '1 got to bcr house one ufter uoon. an' that evcuin' she told mu all (.lie lied to tell, an' 1 told her all I hed to tell. So, there bein' no need of stay in', 1 M the next woruiu' uu' went on *ycit Vy tUtfl that stffcifitlu' Uet»rgtf Ilarker.' "Yes. IYuliette's smart—a real Ver monter (our folks is Yankees, spite the name). George told me how she found him; it was evenin' an' he was in one of them dance halls—queer places they 1 must be, too, from George's tellin'; she jest came right in 'mongst them painted women an' swearin' men, an' i goin' up to him. her eyes a-blazin', she puts her hand on his shoulder. 'Ar'n't ye 'shamed?' says she; 'you runaway husband, you! Come with me back to your wife, an' no words 'bout it!' "An' George says he wilted right down. The women they cried out: 'Hurraw fur the woman dep'tv sheriff!' An' the men they hollered too, an' was goin' to pass round a hat fur her; but she said she didn't want their money. I allers thought she hed some idee of runnin' 'crost her old sweet- j heart and little Mandy out there. Hut she was better at findin' men fur other women. "As I'ruliette gets older an' more silent her tongue keeps just as sharp; j it's like a razor, gettin' sharper, less you use it. We hardly speaks, an' hevn't eat together fur years. I s'pose she'll allers live with me." and Hiram sighed unconsciously; "fur by father's will she has a right to a home an' a livin' on the old place, an' kin pasture six head of cattle on it, an' keep hens. It's bad fur a woman, not hevin' a real home of her own. She's got dreadfully sol'tary. She won't even hev' no cat nor dog—nothln' but thet old blue hen thet she's got used to, an' likes to hev 'round. It's a cur'us hen, follers her 'bout an' never seems to want to set. She takes com- I fort with it. I s'pose women folks hes j got to hev' somethin' to fuss over." It was growing late; so we got up | and bade Hiram good night. He, too, rose and moved slowly off toward the house, as if in no great hurry to reach it. "Poor Hiratn!" said Miss Larned; "his sister must be a trial to him. I suppose he'd like to marry aud live as other men do. Of course, no woman will marry him, knowing that Pruliette has got to live with them, and he's fust getting to be an old inan. But did you notice her eyes?—almost an amber color. I'm sure she must have been a very pretty girl." A few days later Mrs. Loring and her little daughter, six years old, Olive Loring, came to the camp. One evening Olive walked ,vith me to the Kelly farmhouse. She was a gentle little thing, somewhat shy with new ac quaintances. Miss Kelly was busy in the wood shed and back kitchen. "Takes all my time cookin' fur the hayin' help." she grumbled, with unusual garrulity. "Men folks want to be eatin', eatin', eatin'l" She stared hard at Olive, ajd finally went into the pantry and brought out a little cake that looked very dry and old. "Here's somethin' fur ye, little gal," she said, thrusting it into the child's hand. Olive drew back, receiving the gift with a hardly audible murmur of thanks. On the way home she was silent, and I saw she had been frightened by the grim-looking old woman. The Larneds got their eggs and but ter and milk from the Kelly farm, and had been in the habit of sending for them. Several times in the course of the next week Miss Kelly brought these supplies to the camp herself. She spoke little on these occasions, but her manner was less surly than it had been. Each time she brought some trifle for Olive Loring, but Olive continued to be afraid of her. One Saturday morning we men all started off to spend the day fishing near some islands to the west of us. Rufe, the tnan-of-all-work, was left in charge of the camp. As the morning was hot and sultry, none of the ladies went with us, preferring to stay on the cool, breezy point. Early in the afternoon Mrs. Larned wished to send Rufe on an errand to a farmhouse standing on the end of a point that stretched out into the lake parallel with ours; a deep bay about half a mile wide separated the two points. Olive asked to go with Itufe, and no objection was made, she being accustomed to go about with him. Two boats had been left at the camp; one was a large, heavy skiff, the other a little canoe which was used for pad dling about in on quiet evenings. Rufo took the big skiff, and rowed away with Olive sitting in the stern. A hot, thick liazc hung over the water, and from the camp they could hardly make out the boat as it neared the point opposite. Suddenly all the vapor that had filled the air seemed to gather into a black cloud; and soon this cloud glowed with streaks of Hume, and emitted hoarse growls. "It will be a thunderstorm," ex claimed Mrs. Loring. "1 wish Olive was here with me; she's so afraid ol thunder." It happened that Pruliette Kelly had come to the catnp with a pail of but ter. They invited her to stay till the shower was over. Now a blast of hot wind swept over the lake and caught the haze up with it, carrying it off to the angry black cloud, which had swollen till it tilled nearly the whole sky. As the haze vanished objects near the opposite point could be more clearly distinguished. "See," cried Mrs. Loring, "isn't that the boat pulling out from shore? Oh, why dosn't Rufe stay at the farm house! How can he be so foolish!" Pruliette drew Mrs. Larned back. "The little gal is alone in thet there boat," .she said, in a solemn whisper. "Rufe must a-left her in it when he went up to the house; an' that sudden wind druv it off the shore. The Rau dnll boat must be away from home| fur I kin see Rufe runnin' up an' down the bank, an' if't was there he'd foller her. The wind is drivin' the boat right toward us." The rain began to fall in torrents, churning th<- already vexed water till it seemed to boil. It was one of those violent, thunderstorms to which Lake Ontario is subject during the hot sea son. It grew dark, and the boat wan hidden. When the rain stopped a cold hurricane rushed by, and the panic stricken water (led before it in swift, headlong waves. Now the boat was visible again, tossing about, seeming to share the agony of the water. The woman could see Olive clinging to a seat, in constant danger of being thrown out; the blast carried her shrill screams to their ears. "See, the boat may be driven against the point!' l cried one of them. Hut as It came on they saw the wind would take It by, outside the point. An open shed had l>een built for th* bi ats on the western side of the point, where, as was now the case, the watel wah protected from tlio that came up from the south and cast. Pruliette Kelly ran to thin hoathouse. and. nothing else being there, launched the canoe. Slur paddlod it through the calmer water out to the edge of tho angry sea tliat swept around the point. It wus evident tliat tho canoe could not live for moro than a moment in ouch a itea. An instant later the skiff —Olive standing in it, screamlug and stretching out lier hands to tier mother ou the shore—camo scudding by the point, Pruliette wave a stroke with the paddle that made the canoo shoot forward; she grasped the skiff aud, with a vigorous push, bent It In toward the calmer wuter. This push reacted on tho cauoe, which slipped out stiU further among the waves. Tho old woinau struggled bravely, tiylug to balaupc jhy I'Rri.IETTE 6AVI A STROKE WITH TfT!| PADDI.P, toward the shore. She had only gained * fevr yards when a billow broke over the canoe, filled f>-» and sank it. Two of the younger women wailed into the shallow water, dragged the skiff to land and restored the child to her mother. They saw something that the waves rolled toward the shore. They seized it and cirrled it from the water. Life was not quite crushed out from the poor old body, and after ' working over her for some time she began to show signs of returning con sciousness. Hiram was found, and he and one of the hired men carried his sister back to her home. When the doctor came he said it was doubtful If she survived the shock; she had never been a strong woman. Toward evening Hiram and the doc tor and Mrs. Larned and little Olive's mother were in Pruliette Kelly's room, where she lay motionless on the bed. Of a sudden she roused, glanced around nervously and laid a thin, withered hand on her brother's arm. "Hiram, I'm agoin' to let that old blue hen hatch some chickens. I feel I ain't used her right; fur she hes wanted to set—lots o' times. But I allers stopped her quick; you know she was my only company, an' I didn't want her off a-settin' an' a-bringin' up chickens. I s'pose she's jest longed fur them chicks." Then, a moment before the end, she spoke again: "Did Mandy get ashore all safe? Poor lit tle Mandy—poor—thing."—N. Y. In dependent. Karth*n (irfatput Sufferer. The nihilist doomed in Siberian waste to live in his exile gloom may possibly think he is fated to taste the cup of bitterest doom, and the slavo who toils for another's gain with lib erty denied may think he suffers the greatest pain that the human soul has tried, and the innocent soul adjudged of crime and rushed to a felon's doom may think no soul that has lived in time has suffered a heavier gloom. But the grief of all of those men combined can never amount to the sum of the torment awful, condensed, refined, of the man of the musical chum. —N. Y. World. ACROSS THE PLAINS BY WAGON. Wherein the Journey Ih Different from What It Wan In '4O. A day or two since a family of immi grants from southern Kansas, who had traveled all the way across to Oregon in their own wagon and were five months on the way, camped a few miles east of this city, says the Port land Oregonian. So seldom do immi grants "cross the plains" with teams nowadays that Mr. Smith inquired how they had come to make the trip. The immigrant said there were many more families on the way, strung along, whom he had passed. He had become weary of the ups and downs of life in Kansas, and had started to make a home on Lewis river, where he had some friends. He was a man of some means, and had u wife and several half grown children. When he con cluded to emigrate he had nine horses, one of them a mare for which he had paid five hundred dollars. He could not sell them for anything, so con cluded to drive to Oregon, save raiiroad fare, and have his horses after lie got here. He bought a carriage and a cart for his family, and, loading his outfit in a farm wagon, hitched up his horses and struck out. The man's account of the trip shows that, while crossing the plnins now is much the same as in the days of '4O and thereabouts, in other respects it is a very different nffair. For instance, in stead of finding plenty of (rruss for his stock and game for his family, he found no game, and had to buy feed for his horses all the way, the "plains" being now comparatively a settled country. As far as wear and tear to wagons and animals goes, the trip was all that could have been anticipated. He lost all his horses, his cart and carriage, and came through the Harlow Gate with a pair of eastern Oregon eityuses hitched to his farm wagon, the wheels of which were braced with oak grubs and body bound up witji withes. He said his five hundred-dollar mare was stolen, and the others had succumbed to alkali water and other things. He now says it would have been cheaper to shoot his horses and come by rail road. He could have arrived at his destination in three days lrotn the time lie started at a cost of about two hun dred dollars. However, he did not care. They had seen the country, and had at last reached the promised land. From the Kansas man's account there are several score families follow ing on his trail. It is a comfort to know that there will ho no trouble in finding bread for them, and bacon, too, should any of them chance to arrive hungry, as was often the case in days **' «M# l»". Neighborly. West Field—My wife has had a call from nearly every lady in Benson burst, and we've been there only a fort nlght. Morrison Essex—Oh, yes; 1 liclicve you told me before that you bought all new furniture. —N. Y. World. Muiit Ilr 11 •». Winks—l wonder who selects the poetry for the (lightone Magazine. Jinks—De Blinks. "Are you sure?" "Well, I heard him say that ho was the puzzle editor."—N. Y. Weekly. A 41rn<lgln|[ Assent. "There's one good thing to lie said about Thopkins. He Is perfectly truth ful." "Of course he is. He is too stingy to make an extravagant statement."- —In- diana|>olia Journal. Not Uuyln*. Fair I'urcnaser —When the store is crowded like this you must sell an aw ful lot. Clerk—No, ma'am, not much. Most of these people are simply shopping.— N. Y. World. A Victim. Mrs. Mallersby—l wonder why they make women's theater hats so high? Mr. Mallersby (with bitter signifi cance) -So they'B harmonize with the bills. I suppose. —Chicago Record. (ienerallv Not Till Then. When under flclile forumCM frown. Pursued f'V u mallKii.int fate-- lu short ihv inimical lie Is ilown— Man l:i ronwut to urblWate t -N V. I'ress. A NEW GOLD ERA. It Has Been Opened by Modern Mining- Methods. Ranrwrd Activity la the Uold Fields of California— lt I.ack. the Kzrltetuent of Early Times, Itut Ilaa a More Solid Baals- Tlie golden lining to the silver clouds ! that hung over this country a year ago isjust liecoinmg apparent. When this government ceased its purchases of . silver, and the mints of India were closed to the white metal, the financial outlook was dark indeed. Hut out of evil good often comes, and. whatever other effect these measures may have had. they have resulted beneficially in causing a greatly increased activity in : gold mining. Never before in the his tory of this state, says the San Fran ; cisco Argonaut, have the prospects been so flattering. The spectacular effect that accompanied earlier mining ex citements is wanting, but there is in Its place an element of greater stability and permanence. The romantic era. the population, red-shirted and ro clad, wandered among the foothills of the Sierras, with pick search ««' for , th t precious partivh*r° g , tbt ; 1 ° f the river beds. ,^fc|fcL; nto The more , the fever througii in? n every fluctua tion in the was watched with eager interest by millionaire and pauper, by the clerk in the counting I house aud the serving maid in the j kitchen or nursery, when fortunes i were made and lost in a day, and when everybody was rich whether his wealth was evidenced by comfortable bank ac count or by a scrap of worthless paper —this second and more unwholesome era has also passed, to return no more. The mining of to-day, while it lacks the element of wild exciteme nt, is on a more solid basis and has a far more substantial prosperity. Mining meth ods are more scientific than they were, wasteful and extravagant processes have been laid aside, new and im proved machinery has been brought ioto use. and private companies, oper ating quietly and soberly, are reaping a harvest undreamed of even in the days when the delirium of speculation was among us. The placer mines have been diligently worked over. There are still golden grains anil nuggets in the river beds, but not in sutlieient quantities generally to pay corpora tions for working them, although in dividual miners can still make "grub." Hut the placer mines at best held only the overflow of the richer original deposits. The wealth in the hillsides poured over and the surplus was car ried with the rain into the rivers. From north to south, throughout the whole stretch of the Sierra range, are ledges laden with their golden treas ure as yet untouched. (Junrtz miring is still in its infancy despite the vast stores of wealth that have already been wrested from the earth; drift mining will yet add untold millions to the wealth of this state. The output of gold this year will far exceed any thing of recent years. Not in this state alone, but through out the world this same renewed ac tivity is seen. Colorado, prostrated last year by the repeal of the Sherman law, stands to-day as one of the wealth producing states of the world. This year California will l>e closely pushed for first position among the gold-bear ing states of the union. Two years ago the gold product of Colorado was less than 8. r >.noo.<XM>—«U.7i:ukv)- while California produced more than twice that amount. The next ye; r Colorado increased its output sixty-five per cent., while the increase in California was only eight per cent. This year the difference between the two will be still further decreased. In Montana twice as many properties are being worked this year as last; in Australia there is unusual activity, and the out put of South Africa, which a few years ago contributed practically nothing to the world's supply, is estimated for this year at $4H,000,(>00. When California, Australia and Rus sia first began, in the early fifties, their immense output of gold, prices were seriously affected. Prior to 1850 the annual product had never exceeded 83R,000,000, or slightly more than will be produced in the two states of Cali fornia and Colorado this year. During the next five years the iinnuul average was 9187,000,000, the highest point reached t>cing in 1853, when the output was $155,000,000- After that date there was a decline in production. In 1873, twenty years later, the output was 800,- 200,000; in 188.1 it was SO-1,000,000. Last year, however, the effect of the in creased demand for gold was felt, and the output reached aud passed the fig ures of 1853. The most careful esti mates place this year's production at 8170,000,000. For the four years since 1890 the annual average exceeds that of 1850-'55 by 813,000,000. What is to t>c the effect of these im mense additions to the world's supply of gold? The increased production of 1850-1860 resulted in u decline in the purchasing power of gold, or, expressed differently, prices generally rose. The same result should lie seen this tiiuo were it not fur certain other factors that uro at work, 'l'he increased sup ply is in response to an increased de mand, and that demand will absorb tlio surplus as it is produced. Again, tbo world's stock of gold is far greater now than it was forty yenrs ago, and additions that would materially affect the mass thou would not Ikj felt now. It is therefore probable that, unless continued for a number of years, the increased production will not affect the business of the world. The effect in California will, however, be diffcront. The annual addition of fifteen to twenty millions to the wealth of this state is bound to affect all business beneficially. One year's output would be sufficient to build the proposed rail road through the San Joaquin valley. Tho cost of a new transcontinental lino would scarcely l>e fel*. if taken out of several years' output. THOME CIIII-OIIKN OF <»l'IIS. "Come, El*ie, and give Charley a nice kiss. He Is eryiug because you don't want to play with him." "A kiss? Why, mamma, what doe» that stupid child know of a kiss?" Fliegcude Blaetter. To Insure a Speedy Iteturn. Doggn (pathetically)—Good-by, dear; I have to go on jury duty. Mrs. Boggs(tearfully)—Now, be bach as soon as you can Don't belong tc the "obstinate eleven."—N V. Sun llwlljr N«u«c«<l. He She seems happy with him. au<l maintains that she married her ideal Bkt>-Yva, but lu:r idail was the mat ftjjtfwtAiki Wk iftfr to mariy uiw - IMPROVEMENT. EXPENSE OF ROADS. A Simple Statement from > Plain Boat neu Point of View. In almost every article about im proving our highways, there is the same commendation of the object, the same disposition to dwell upon the comfort and profit if that object can be realized, but then comes, with a lament and an apology, a positive pro hibition of progress by calling atten tion to the enormous and intolerable expense. This inverted climax is reached by aggregating in one vast sum the cost of furnishing an entire state or coun ty, or even a township, with durable roads properly constructed This method of computation will kill any enterprise. The farmer who counts only the cost will never sow any wheat. To a man who knows nothing but the cost of bread and butter, it would be impossible to feed the peo ple of the United States for one year. If all the social drinking iu the United States had to be done at a gulp and paid for v a signal? it would not only kill drinkers, but for the ake an unheard-of strin gency th monetary affairs. To get nine hundred million of dollars ready all at once to make payment in money or eurrency would drain the banks to their reserves, and empty the pocket books of the people. Things are not done that way. Expenditures are made from year to year, as accumulations create ability. The burden is adjusted so that like the pressure of the atmosphere it is never felt, and if known is only known as n blessing. Rut the principal fact in this connec tion is that there need not be an in crease of expenses, but there should be a wiser use of the expenditures that are annually made. Not heavier tax ation, or an increase in corporate and municipal debts, is the first aim, but permanent work, so that each year's work may join and supplement the work of the previous year. If any one will take the pains to calculate the amount ordinarily expended upon our roads to make theoi nothing the better, but rather the worse, and to disappear before storm and flood and frost of the next winter and spring, he Will find that the sum in almost any of our older states rises into the millions. And this wasteful expenditure has been repeated year after year for two or three generations, and bids fair to be repeated for generations to come. The waste already amounts probably to a sum equal to all our public debts, and out of it all we have few miles of really good roads. No, the problem of first considera tion is not how to raise more money, but rather to expend what we do raise so that the work may be satisfactory and permanent. Our roads would now be in better and more serviceable condition if all the public work had been done to secure properly-constructed road beds, without metalling roadbeds of clay, thor oughly underdrained, with sufficient sluices, either of iron pipe or of clay tile, protected at the openings with masonry, the clay crowned so as to freo the road from water, well compacted with the roller, and the roads so lo cated that no grade need be more than three feet to the hundred. If we had such roadbeds, they would be as per manent as any structure made by the hands of man. The material will not decay. It will bear up any load that horses can pull. It is smooth, firm and elastic. When the time might come to put on metal—to complete the structure by putting on the roof —the metal would remain until worn to powder by the wheels and hoofs passing over it. Over such roadbeds a coating of mac adam three inches thick, broken, spread and rolled according to Mao adam's rule, would be quite sufficient for any ordinary country road. Where travel is very heavy a greater depth of metal might be required, but the writer knows of a road which bears a heavy traffic, cut in u hillside, that has but five inches of broken stone. It stands and wears, year after year, always smooth and dry. Hut it was thorough ly constructed and drained before stone was placed upon it, under the direction of an engineer with compe tent knowledge and good common sense. —Col. W. D. McClung, in Good Roads. A WORD ABOUT GRAVEL. Wlijr It I* Mot the Moat Economical Koad llulldlng Malarial. When there is any great amount of heavy travel gravel does not consti tute an economical road. Tlio lirst cost is less, but the repairs necessary to keep the surface even and smooth will bring the annual cost to a much higher tigurc than would bo the case if broken stone were used. The general principles of broken stone roads are the same now as they were when Mac adam lirst introduced a system in the construction of such roads. With mod ern machinery for breaking and roll ing we can obtain better results in quicker time, and less care has to be exercised in watching the road as it hardens. Many roads are built in the United States with but four inches of broken stone, which have withstood the wear of several years, but the greatest earo has to bo used in every detail of the construction. These road* have been constructed for the most part on a foundation of sandy loam, but none that 1 am aware of ou clay or heavy soil. The soil was first compacted by rolling, the crown con forming to tliat of the finished road way. On the prepared foundation the broken stone was laid about four and one-half inches thick. This was light ly rolled by passing the steam roller übout four times over it. Sand was then carefully spread over the surface as the roller passed back and forth until the interspaces were thoroughly filled to the tops of the stone. About one inch of broken stone screenings which had passed through a half-inch screen were then laid on, watered and thoroughly rolled until the surface becamo even and firm.—Landscape Architect. ______ Looking Ahead. Editor—The Kaglc will lie very glad, sir. to l>ooin the real estate Interests of Ilawville, without money and without price; but one thing must be understood in advance. Promoter—What? Editor—When the lioom bursts, the Eagle is to have the printing of tho mortgage foreclosure proceedings. — Puck. Not tilled. " "It's no uso o' me thryln' to hold ft Job on that new buildin' they're put tin' up for tho g»>vernment," said Mr. Dolan. "Why not?" "Oi'ui mat übsint uiuinded, Oi'd be worrukui' before Oi thought."—Wash ington Star. lie Wanted to Know. Young Wife—Say, hubby, shall I wear u l>luck nilk ilrcss with a brown hut, or u black hut wit U u brown bilk dress this winter? llubby—Say, dearest, shall I wear a black silk hut with brown pants, or u browu Uat wiUi black uiUita wkua 1 go m ' " No 4:6 TWO TOUGH TALES. A Couple of Dnimmm Who Had Struck EttrcißM. A Chicago itr.'.mmer and a New York drummer met iu a hotel one night and talked ten minutes of trade, ten minutes of choruses, ten minutes of politics, and concluded with a couple of Munchausen yarns that if properly paid for would be entitled to the bippost share of the cake, says the New York Mail and Express. "I am just back from a three months' trip to Norway," said the New York man. "and had a great time. I tell you, but we struck some cold weather a few days after 1 pot to North Trondhjen. We ran across an old dame named Lild, who had settled at the very spot where King 1 Canute used to drink his eight flagons of ale for breakfest. Very cold there. The steam from the teakettle would fall like snow in front of the fireplace. Out in the open air, when ever a man spoke, his breath congealed BO rapidly that his words actually fell on the ground. It was impossible to play a wind instrument. I tried to toot a French horn and couldn't sound R flat to save tnv life. The notes seemed to get stuck. A little dog we had went to sleep in front of the lire one night and the side furthest away from the blaze was frozen stiff." " 'Pears that I must have struck the other extreme," said the Chicago drum mer, as he lighted a fresh cigar. "I was out in southern California, near the edge of the desert, stopping with a farmer who had four acres in potatoes and four in popcorn. A hot wind swept in from the desert in the early part of August, and it was so hot that every potato in that patch was roasted in its jacket. 'I ain a ruined man,' said the farmer. 'I hope not,' said I. 'lt's a long lane that hasn't a rut in it, and it must be an ill wind, indeed, that doesn't blow somebody's barn over.' 'You're right,' said the farmer. 'I guess I'll set the Dominique hen on turkey eggs.' lie started for the chicken-house, but in a minute came running back all ex cited. 'Come out here,' he yelled, 'and look at my field of corn. Just come and look at it.' I went out, and, if you'll believe me, every ear of corn in that field had popped, ft looked like a | cotton field for all the world. The i farmer got to work, shoveled the corn j up, and carted in sixteen double wagon loads to town and sold it. That's what I call a powerful spell of hot weather." THE DRUMMER'S BAGGAGE. If There's a I.ot of It. It 9how* That lis In New to the IlunlneM. n"I can tell after a single glance at the baggage carried by a drummer about how long he has l>oen on the road," said a lawyer at the Commercial Travelers' club, according to the New York World. "When the young man first starts out to the grand tour of the west or south he is likely to carry in one trunk enough samples to stock a village store. Another trunk will con tain changes of clothing and linen sufficient for a trip around the world, lie will carry two large hand satchels —one containing samples, the other a bountiful supply of gents' furnishings and toilet articles. Two overcoats — one light, the other heavy—a shawl or blanket, and n mackintosh rolled up and stropped, a leather hat-box con taining a] 'sixer,' an umbrella and a cane, and a large pair of field-glasses swung over his shoulders on a strap will complete the outfit. "Six montlis later this young man will have discarded one of the trunks, the hat-box, the cane and the fleld ' glasses. At the end of a year two satchels and the umbrella will com prise his belongings. Ho has gradual ly learned that every flrst-class hotel in the country can do laundry work in twelve hours; that umbrellas can be hired at the check room; that one middle-weight overcoat is sufficient for his wants; that a cane is in the way; that the place for a silk hat la on the head, or, better still, that a derby is good enough; that blankets are sup plied in the lhillman service; that field glasses are only to use on race tracks, and then behold the angel of commerce with his change of linen on one aide and his samples on the other of a single traveling bag, selling more goods in a day than he formerly sold in a week, and not pttying out from S3 to 910 a day on excess of baggage." TUDH of HUffr Around th« Altar. The erection of the magnificent canopy over the high altar of Our Lady in the shrine of Ouadalupe in the City of Mexico has bocn completed. The pillars to support it are each of a solid block of polished Scotch granite, weighing seven tons. The diameter of each pillar is three feet and the height twenty feet. The altar will bo ready for dedication on December 13 (Guadalupe day), and will be the most elaborate and costly one in America. The additions to the church edifice will not be completed for nearly two years at the present rate of progress. When fluisbe 1, tho Shrino of the Lady of Guadalupo will be one of the notable Catholic church edifices of the world. The solid silver altar railing weighs twenty-six tons, and many millions of dollars are in other ways represented In the palatial place of worship. London's Pmok* Muit 00. Tho ever prevailing problem of how to do away with the Loudon smoko has been solved, it Is reported, by Col. Duller, of the Belgian engineers, who has discovered an easy and economical method of disposing of It. Tho method is thus described: Tho smoke enters a chimney shaped like the lottcr Nj at tho bottom of tho left-hand leg it is met by a small jet of steam, which saturates the smoke and accelerates the draught; at tho top of the leg a spray of water drives down the soot and noxious products, allowing only almost pure vapor to escape up the last leg. Half the acids and 04 per cent of tho soot aro thus removed; they are Bent down into the sewers, where they act as disinfectants. The system can be applied to a factory for about 92!W and to a dwelling house for •12 or 915 Nu Wonder. "Don't talk to me about compulsory vaocinationl" exclaimed the man who had his arm In a sling. "I'm sore on that subject "-Chicago Tribune. AU Unr DttwMn Them. lie— Oh, yes; when I was in England I was enthusiastically received in court circles. She (snippy)— What was the charge against youV—Judge. Making the lint of It. Miss Ootham—Amateur photography is all tlie rage in New York. Auut Rural—Well, 1 s'pose most of the rooms in those flata you live in la too dark for anything else.—N. Y. Weekly Mur« Conv*n)rat "He told me he liked to read my poems by the fireside," said Bcribb. "Very likely." bald Cynicus. "Heoan throw Ym In without getting UP'""~ Harper's Razor. A Bond of Srujjmtby. M iss Huntley— Your dogs have formed a strange attachment toward rue Bow do yon account for it? Mr Sport—lt's "like master. Ilk® dog "—Truth. Olio of th« «>re»t Army. "How do you Ilvo. c«od »lr'" b» ssltefl. And tbr patriot frouk sod tree, _ itapUsa lu aou* and Diluting says: • •Vrctfuuur.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers