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.