VOLXXXII DON'T Want A Wheel? Just as o*ood time now, as any, to tliink of buying, to compare pri ces and merits. \\ e pin our best faith to the CLEVELAND and the PHOENIX. ' A wheel should be Easy Running, Ij-ooking, O uaranteedi Ladies Phoenix* We ar\d will have ii\ tl\e Sprir\js. J. E. FORSYTH E. "• ' I CHIT SuMTI SALE OF OVERCOATS, - SUITS, Underwear, Shirts, Hats, Caps, Hosiery, Tics, Gloves, Mittens, Car<ligan Jackets, Sweaters, Truaks, Valises, Telescopes, Watches, Chains, Charms, Rings, IMns, Suspenders, Han Jkerchiefs, Brushes. I'jrs-s, etc. Fhis s NO CLKARAXCE SALE Of Summer Goods, but our regular stock of FALL \ND WINTER GOODS. We show you the lar ,t stock in Butler to select from and everything yocs. Dcn't miss this + 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 y<»ur purchases un til you see us. We feel satisfied we can do you good. D. A. heck, 21 N. \laii\ St., Duffy's Block, Hull* r, Ph. A Happy New Year TO EYKRVUODY. '95. Our Semi-Annual 4-Days Sacrifice Sale. % WILL TAKE PLACE ON 2Es:* Jan. 9,10,11 and 12. '95 ——« This will be our fourth Great Sacrifice Sale. Tin y have been well patronized in the past, and our friends and patron , know that when we advertise goods at a sacrifice, we mean it. I his will be, as our former sales have been, a genuine sacrifice sale. We need the money. Our nee- sity is your opportunity. Everything in DRY 'coons, WRAPS, MILLINERY, BLANKETS, FLANNELS AND YARN, i;o at a sacrifice at this FOUR DAYS SACRIFICE SAL/:, January 9, 10, 11 and 12. Mrs. Jennie E.Zimmerman Sl'« CES=BOR TO It ITT K K A R\L_-TOX FHA> KK KM P Km, DEALER IN BLANKETS, HARNESS, A.iifl everything in horse and fur nishing floods- I [arnosN, Collars, Whips, DuNtorn, Saddles, etc. A.lmo trunks and vhlLsom. liepairinjr done on short notice. The largest assortment ot ~>-A I torst blankets in town will be found at FHANK liliMl'UltH 124 S. MAIN ST, BOTLSB, PA. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. At this Season Pomf-thing Is needed to keep up th« appa lite, assist diction a:i i give good. health ful «Wp. For i; purpo-.s 1100 i s Sar sapariila is pecuLai ly a :a; ted. Ai a blood Wood's Saraa -1 l*W i _ parxlla purifier it ha": no £ 1 | equal, and it is ehie!';? A . X ViJ" by its |iOWiT to nuke pure blood that ir has won such fam- a - .-.sre for scrofula, salt rheum, boils and u i. r similar diseases. Pills are efficient and gentle. 25c. £3ESU HUT INjL —I LtPACKAGES IST MAWf T PREMIUMS 3fi/EN FREE TC f /iRS CP L'QN COFFS6 3KEAT B.RGAIXS IN Clothing, Hats and <w' 7 Gent's luu-nishings O FUR FALL. Suit* nold by others for sf>.oo our price $4 50 Suits Hold by otbcru f<r SB.OO our price $6 00 Suitf* Bold by oth>*rn ">r SIO.OO ur price s■< 00 •W bi'e Merits UifJerw .r 50c grade or 35 • Grey Merino U'jder*re,r 50c (?rade lot 35'\ We will hiivc you 25 p«' r cent o'i ali urr:*d-H of clotiiiriif Call nod extoiir e our d« •• Dd orifec whether v>u wieb to bin or n"». THE RACKET STORt UO * V '.A IN ST It is unnecessary to bore you wiili the advertisement of our largest stock. Lost facilities, biggest business,etc You know we have that. The important an nouncement is, We wil Positively savt you Money on yoii; Fall Clothes. Our stock tables are resplendent with the newest patterns. See them. ALAND, TAILOR. WITHOUT DOUBT We have the most magnifieant line of holidav goods over shown New ideas, New Goods, New Designs Presents for everv body, Old and young. J. H. DOUGLASS', N'cai J\.s!offi.v, SEASONABLE - BARGAINS! Our (ffeaf (Uryniti sh|i- >if | !ier«r«*nt t'r Sl»v* itilirr Kin! I>,»u» niti'-r i the Oil,-I Sritrti-l, 'ill, Krffyt i'l S*leH OT«f b- Id 111 lliltlwr. (■teMs All wom| Vntf I(t ■ OblMrap* Merino Vwtii 15 CI ildri-n- 7.V f">.!«• I>Hi i Si|ll» .Vic Children* s], All V'mil. I'.. it,lnniilll.il Suil* 7. r >e IjUliiw Plei cn liliid V. »li< 2ii<- I.,,'lien ;')!> ■ Vl' i.ii- V «!•» !!."• li»'lif|< *1 All VMM,I V. 'H H'l l.n'ltie $1 25 All m i»iij Vent- . Wi* Ijuiliex i iHiiiiiiiut PHl Sun*. Diieil , Hull* and K<|iirnirimi Tifchl* ul popular pr'e»». FINK MILLINERY OUK SPECIALTY. M. K. M MARKS, 118 to 117 S Mi,in fit . - Roller Ij. 10. Crumbling. Briwior d' Tb'>r«»u rhbied P«>ultrv HALL YORK CO, PA. Will neii mu.fi fir h»'e|iiiiir f'om . fine Bliick Minorca- I di.w. Ut»n «H, Buff Leghorn* Barred mid VI l ito I*lVrm• 111h B"ch». and |{ ndim* it *1 per fetiing; White Inlia, (Jure $5 per 15 Old arid younir ntock l< r B<tle at reuauuublepncea. IU T TLER. PA., THURSDAY. JANUARY 10. 1895. PTAIf^J ro^D ; r%i 3y The Author Außighh R EStßveo* CHAPTER XV. "I will rescue her," replied Brown, with flashing eyes. "Her rescue must be accomplished by strategy, not at tempted by force of arms. O, Col. San ford, as you value that loving daugh ter's life, give me a strong, fleet horse and I will take the trail at once, and if I do not return your beloved child to j'our arms it will be because my name has been stricken from the roll of life and added to the great roster of death. I will and can rescue her if you will permit me to do so.' The old commander regarded the sol dier with a searching look, admiration beaming from his eyes. In the young man's clear, unflinching gaze he saw evidence of the courage of the lion, courage that would not waver in the face of any danger. His hatred of the humble private was intense, for he luid dared to look upon his daughter with eyes of love, yet that daughter's life was now at stake, and he realized that her rescue depended perhaps wholly upon the efforts of the man he so de spised. It was doubtful if a man in all that garrison could be found who would take his life in his hands and go upon a mission so fraujht with deadly peril. Brown stood and awaited the result of his plea, his well-poised head thrown back and his clear eyes looking into those of the commander with unflinch ing steadiness. Addressing < apt. Col by, the colonel .said: "Captain, supply this man • with everything he may need and let him go, and may < Jod go with you, sir, may God go with you." Then turning he entered his quarters. "Captain, there is not a moment to lose," said Brown, his eyes flashing with impatience. "I know it, my man, I know it. There stands my h<»i e ready saddled, and he is one of the swiftest and strongest in the garrison. My pistols are in the saddle holsters, and here is my Win chester rifle. Mount and away at once. Give me your hand, my brave fellow, for you are made of the right metal and I believe you will succeed." "Thank you, captain. I will succeed if it lies in the power of mortal man to do so.'' Taking a memorandum book from | his pocket he tore a leaf therefrom and | after writing his aunt's address upon ! it handed it to the captain with the ' words: "Captain, if it Ik; in God's will that I j filial! not return, please write to that lady and tell her how I died. Tell her that Private lirown was her own boy Ned. Tell her that in his army life he lived as an upright, true, honorable mnn, and died as a soldier." "Your wishes shall be religiously carried out, lirown." Then drawing near the sold'cr, so that those who were gathered about might not hear, he said: "1 know your history, Mr. Thornton, jind no one more than I wishes for you a safe return and the consummation of your fondest hopes for the future. I hive read your ambi tions in your <■ 'es when the name of y»»ur lltf^ spoken. The priie is well worth any risk, and I feel that you will win it." "Thank you, captain, a thousand times. I tin t the future will demon strate to you fiat I am not unworthy of your confidence. Good-by. Springing into the saddle he put spurs to the noble animal he bestrode / \ / '■ > \ /_ \ ' ■ }.. W > l\ iff) * A "TuT ' ' AWAY ON THE THAU,. and went thundering away on the trail, followed by the approving shouts of his comrades. After his departure from the fort the troops were dismissed wit h orders to hold themselves in readiness to mount at a moment's notice. Every oflleer and officer's wife gathered at the colonel's quarters to cheer him in his great grief, and bid him hope for the best. Despite their assurances the old warrior sat stricken with sorrow. A nameless fear hail settled upon his soul, almost prostrating him beneath its crushing weight. In his easy chair he sat, surrounded by sympathising friends, alternately bemoaning his loss and cursing tlx' Indians. "1 have every confidence in that man Jlrovvn, colonel," !-aid ('apt. Colby. "He has been in rny troop for nearly three years, and until recently has been an enigma to ine. No man was ever more serupalou ly faithful In the discharge of his duties, and In the sev eral affairs with the Apaches in which the troop has taken part since he Joined us he has exhibited marked courage. In conversation with him I have found hi,ll t i 1«- a man of education and rare Intelligence, and one who is fitted for a far higher position in life than that of u soldier iu the ranks. In fact, colonel, 1 implicitly believe the strange story he has told of himself." "Strange story? Who the devil Is the fellow?" "I have l>ecn led to believe that you were long ago made acquainted with his hist>n" . Did not your daughter tell you of tin- soldier artist who was drawn Into the service when in an irresponsi ble condition from drink?" "Oh! is that the man? The sane man, too, who resented an insult at the bands of Vandcver." "The tame man, colonel; and I be lieve him to be a man whose friendship would be an honor to any of us were he in his proper station in life." • < iiAirr.K xvi. Col. Hanford's head drooped on his breast and he sat for several minutes 111 deep retlectiou. rtceasionally a deep, painful sigh would escape from Ifiin, a • :idd«-ning evidence to those around him of the terrible grief which had com 1- upon him. As he sat there buried in his own di,tract, ing thoughts, I,leut. Vande.ver entered and silently stood, cap in hand, with the group. After a time the colonel raised his head and said to Capt. Colby: "Yes, I heard the story, but did not give It a second thought. The men I nearly all have moonshine stories to | tell of the causes that led them into . the rinks. If he is such a paragon of virtue and res[>ectablllly, why does ho ! not notify Ills friends of his mistake I and secure his dibuUurgu? It would b<j an M4py UAiiUub" "I'orhaps. colonel,'' said Vandever, "he does not desire to return to his friends. An unromantic sheriff might —" "Stop, sir! Stop!" the old officer roared. "How dare you cast such a reflection on the character of that man, and in my presence, too, when you know that at this moment he is risking 1 his life to save my child! He is a brave man. sir. and a gentleman, and perhaps your equal if not superior in every thing- that Roes to make the man. Go from my house, sir. and never dare to enter it again until you learn to speak of a gentleman as a gentleman. Go, sir!" Ah! Private Brown, if you could have heard this defense of your char acter from the man who but a few hours before would have struck you to earth with his sword, the flicker ing spark of hope which yet glowed fit fully in jour troubled breast would have burst into flame, and your strong arms would have been doubly nerved for the perilous task before you. "Captain, do you know anything more of this fellow?" the commander asked, after Vandever had slunk away in confusion. "Nothing, colonel. He joined my troops at l'ort Laramie in Wyoming territory a few weeks before we were transferred to this post. lie came out •with a detachment of recruits, and this man Brown and a young Irishman narued Lannan were assigned to my troop." "Is this man Lannan yet with you?" "He is, sir. and is a most excellent soldier. His droll Irish wit is, lam told, the life of the troop." After some more conversation th" old commander expressed a desire to be left alone, and the officers retired. At once calling an orderly, he directed him to go to the first sergeant of I! troop and have Private Lannan report to him at headquarters. There soon came a knock at the door, and on being bidden Lannan entered the room. He was a brawny young Irishman with a jovial, good-natured cast of countenance, and an eye that denoted a love for fun. "You are Private Lannan, of B troop, arc you?" the commander asked. "Yis, sor-r-r," the soldier replied with the military salute. "Sit down in that chair, my man, and I want you to give truthful an swers to such questions as I may put to you. Where did you enlist?" "In New York, sor, an' may the divil roast the lyin' spalpeen of a sargint tha<t got me fut in the thrap. You see, sor, I—" "Never mind that," the colonel in terrupted. "Was Private Brown of your troop enlisted at the same time?" "That he was, sor, barrin' the fact that I wor rooined an hour forninst him. You see, sor, I landed but a wake before from the ould counthry an' wor lookin' for a job, when who should I mate but a sargint of the army, sor. 'Can't you put me on the thraek of a job?' savs F. 'f can x.-n. mix cm yer mon, says I, an wid that he towld me he wor hirin' men to 'list as sogers. 4 l)ivil the wunst do I want to a soger an' git kilt an' sculped to mc grave by the haythen Injuns,' says 1, an' wid that he laughed till I cud see the insides av him. 'Sure, Amirican sogers don't be afther folght in' at all,' says he, 'jist live in grand stoyle an wear foinc uniforms an' look swate on parade before the ladies. MushaGodbut his blarney captivate d me intoirely, sor, an' I wint wid him to the heudquarthers an' tuk mo oath. That I <1 id, sor, bad luck to me." "Well, but about Brown. Was ho with you at the time?" "Dick Brown, is it? Faix he wor not, sor. but as I was sittin' on a binch in the hcadquarthers with some other dom fools loikc meself I heard a car riage shtop forninst the dure below, an' thin there wor a racket on the slitairs. 'Phat the divil is tin; hulla baloo now?' says I to meself, an' wid that 1 opened the dure an' there wor the baste of a sargint wid as foine a young y' tleman as yer honor's eyes iver shtruck, lie wor drunk, sor; so bastcly intoxiflelited that the sargint di<l be inosht carry in' him up the sht-uirs The sargint did all the toimc Ims tellin' him to say Ids name wor Kichard Brown, which I had me doubts wor his name at all at all. Well, sor, wid do sargint a houldin' him to his fate he wore shwored into the army, an' the leftenant an' the sargint a grinnin' loike two murtherin' baboons at aieh other loike it wor a foine bit of a joke." "A d—d outrage, sir! It was ad—d outra#rc," roared th< old officer. ' bill say the young man was so intoxicated that he seemed unconscious of what was transpiring?" "That he wor, sor, an' I'd take me dyin' oath on it this blessed minute' barrin' the fact that I 'm in good hilth." "And then what happened?" "Thin, sor, we wor sint to that divil's own home. Governors oiland, an' the poor divil of a boy so drunk that he wint t,o shlap'- on tin- boat an' we car ricd hirn ashore an' put hiin in a bunk in thi! quarthers, an' dom the know did he know till the next tnornin'. Whin he. woke up h< - rlz in his bunk a lookin' as woild as a baste an' says lie, 'Hoys.' says he 'wh<-i'- am I?' 'Sure yer on the honorable Governor's oiland: says I. 'an' you do lie a soger in the army; hut divil the bit. I think you liaile go to eonflssion fur that,' says I, 'fur you wor so intoxlflcated that you didn't know whither yon had yer head on yer shoulders or in yer lathe.' sj k ii -' 0 >..* •?':/"? vr" I I s . 7 **TIIAT I HAD LIK'K TO MK." Faix I did bo sayln' them same words, colonel." "Ilow was the fellow dressed when the her;-,cant brought him in? Did he look like a tramp or a gentleman?" "May God forgive ye, sor, fur sphak ln' of a tramp, fur there wasn't a nater dri d giutlcman in the city, barrin' the natural wear an' tear of the dhrunk he wor havln'. Sure It wor a fine gold wati li an' chain an' finger ring he were, which the kolnd sargint tuk after tellin' him he'd kapu them afe from 1m in' i.htole from him l»y the KOjtvn- £Uv b\yvtiy tgiufe. "'Did Urown say anything about him self when he got sober?" "Sure he did not, 6or. barrin' that he tuk a walk all by himself, an' whin he come back to the quarthers he shmoiled an' said, says he: 'Byes. I giss I'm in fur it, an' I suppose I'll have to make the bist of it." "And that's all you know about him, is it, Launan?" "That's all, sor, only they do be say in'he's gone off all lie himsilf afther yer honor's swate daughter that wor shtole be the haythen Injuns, an' may Oo<l protict the lovely lady an' bring her safe back to ye wid her shmilin' angel face." "Thank you, my man. thank yon. You may go now," said the old man, grateful for even the sympathy of a soldier in that dark hour. After Lannan's departure the colonel sat for a long time in deep reflection, at times giving voicing to his thoughts. "Everyone speaks well of him. I think I understand his case exactly. A young fool with more money than ense, fast companions, got beastly drunk, a recruiting vulture swooped down on him. and here he is. Must be a man of high sense of honor to ac cept the situation as he did and de termine to make the best of it. Damme, I like that. It is true moral courage and bespeaks a manly nature. The fellow may be a gentleman of high family. Uut the idea of him lov ing Alice! Why, the infernal scoun drel, to aim from the ranks at such high game! He must abandon that in sane idea or I'll clip his wings in short order. But, damn the fellow. I can't help but admire him, if he is an in fernal scoundrel." And thus the old officer mused, now praising, now condemning the young soldier who would in his eyes have Tieen a noble, brave and worthy man had he not dared to fall in love with one so far al>ove him, to rob him of the light of his home. CHAPTER XVII. It was high noon when Brown reached the scene of the capture, and, taking the plain trail left by the In dians, he followed it to the river bank. Pushing forward, he forded the stream, regained the trail on the opposite side and dashed away into the sandhills in eager pursuit of the captors of her whom he so dearly loved. He formed no definite plan of action. His every effort was bent in the direc tion of locating the Indians where they would camp for the night before dark ness should blind the trail, lie was thoroughly familiar with the country, 1 aving often scouted it with his troop, and knew that at the Dripping Springs, about forty miles from the river, a fa vorite camping-ground of the tribe was located. There he hoped to find the camp of the band, of which the captors of Alice were but a fragment. On and on he sped through the hills which border the river, and out into the great Joruadodel Muerto, or "Jour ney to Death." that great desert once a terror to those who were obliged to traverse its dreary, 4 waterless wastes beneath the burning suns of summer. Far ahead in the distance the San Andreas range loomed up Isfore him, the eastern side of the great frame of mountains which inclosed the desert. The shades of evening were rapidly eclipsing the light of day as he en tered the first range of foothills and sped alonfr the trail into the bosom of the mountains. Dark, threatening clouds began to gather over the tower ing peaks as he neared the Dripping Springs, and distant growlings of thunder presaged a coming storm. niuafcouutitig from his horse he crawled t«» n._ ... » uu ~— which a view of the spring could bo secured, and his heart gave a great throb of satisfaction when the smoke from a number of camp fires met his eyes. Grouped about near the springs was a village of about twenty lodges, and near by a herd of ponies roamed over the hillside cropping the sparse grass which sprouted out from between the rocks. His searching eyes failed to discover tho presence of a guard 011 any of the surrounding hills, and he rightly In terpreted this to mean that tho In dians, having traveled with great speed to their present cainp, knew that they need fear no pursuing party before the following day. Even had the capture been discovered shortly ufter the poor girl was seized, the cavalry horses could never carry their equipment laden riders mor«j than half the dis tunco from the fort to the mountains before darkness came upon them, and, not being able to follow the trail, the troops would camp until daybreak. Fully satisfied that there were no sen tinels to discover his presence, his hope of being able to gain an entry in the village was greatly strengthened. He must now wait until darkness should come to conceal his movements. Lying down upon the brow of the hill, he eagerly .'canned the distant camp. Dusky forms moved to and fro about the flickering fires, but the one beloved form for which lie sought with aching eyes appeared not. Although the aj>- proaching storm materially aided in driving hack the gray light of day, to his anxious, impatient soul the night fall eame with all too tardy footsteps. The great black clouds rolled rapid ly toward him, at times spitting out vivid flashes of lightning followed by peals of angry thunder. Thee premo nitions of the criming storm tilled his breast with unspeakable satisfaction, and lie almost shouted with joy when the storm burst upon him in all its fury. The inky darkness which ac companied it would hide his move ments, and t he rain Wat ing down upon the lodges of the Indians would drown the sound of his stealthy footsteps. As he lay there, his brain was busy formulating a plan of action, lie must enter tho village, a perilous venture, and when once there how could he de termine in which one of the twenty or more lodges his loved one was con fined? lie? could but go ahead and trust to I'rovidcnce for guidance. Not one man in a thousand would under take such a hazardous task; hut tho light of his life all he cared to live for —was in that village of deadly, treach erous fors, and if h ■ could not effect her rescue it was his desire that ho might die with her. When the storm struck the village the Indians hastily sought shelter in their lodges, and the drenching rain soon extinguished the camp fires. Be ing driven to shelter, the waiting sol dier knew t he savages would soon ncclc comfort in their blanket heds, and after waiting about an hour, that to his Impatient spirit se< mod an age. he re mounted his horse and rode toward the village. Securing his horse to a bnsh behind an embankment which marked the bed ('fan old creek near tho village, tho soldier took tho pistols from the hol sters and thrust them through the belt above his waist, ami taking a hunting knife from one. of tho saddle pocket* moved stealthily into the camp. All was quiet, save tho lieatiug of the r.iin and the occasional volleys from heav en's artillery overhead. Kvcti the snarling, half-starved curs with which every Indian village is infested had crawled into tho lol'ci for shelter from the H tor in, and did not discover his presence. Mow would he ever he able to locate the object of lie. sc. i roll'.' Ills lips moved iu prayer to Heaven for aid, as lie moved along llk« a dark specter amid the lodgi . Anon he would pause and . listen intently, hoping to hear a cough or a 1 tuU, i/r u W'jrU tij U^u of the presence of his loved one. As he cautiously moved onward a vivid flash of lightning revealed to his eyes an object like i crouching form near a lodg'e in the center of the vil lage. Dropping prostrate upon the wet ground he peered through the darkness toward the object, and eager ly awaited the next flash. It came, and seated upon the ground near the door of a lodge he saw the form of an Indian, his blanket thrown over his head tc protect him from the storm. The heart of the y. soldier beat with renewed hope as the '•■•rst upon him that the Indian was a . rid that the object of his search must t>e i.i that lodge. The guard must be disposed of. Much as he dreaded the shedding of human blood except in the line of duty on the field of battle, he felt thnt he must allow nothing to stand between himself and the success of his mission. Making a detour in order to approach HHOW>- EXTKRKD THE I.OIHiE. the crouching sentinel from the rear, he grasped his hunting knife firmly in his hand and stole toward the unsus pecting savage. In the darkness he could see the silent form but a few feet distant, and gliding noiselessly as a serpent he in a moment stood over his intended victim. Not a sound, not a groan escaped the red man as he passed from sleep into death, and raising the flap over the entrance Brown entered the lodge. He could see nothing in the inky darkness, and crouching low upon the ground he waited for a light ning flash. When it came it revealed to him several forms lying wrapped in blankets about the lodge. Moving softly toward where three forms were lying under the same blanket, he again crouched down and waited for the fitful torches of heaven to further guide him. The rain beat with a low, sullen roar on the lodge of skins, and the ground trembled as the thunders bellowed their way through the heavens overhead. It seemed an age ere the lightning again lit up the rain-soaked earth and created a sickly glare within the lodge, but by the dim light he saw the pale face of his love. She had raised her head from its pillow of skins, and the soft blue eyes were gazing directly upon him. In an instant he was beside her, and as he bent his head to assure her that it was himself and to caution her against making any noise, her arms glided about his neck and she softly whispered: "Ned, darling. I knew you would •ome. While praying to Heaven that you might come to my rescue a great peace filled my soul, and I felt that my prayer had been heard and would be answeied, and when the lightning came I saw your dear face in the sr!oo» l • He pressed a kiss on her lips and whispered: "We must not lo e a moment, darl ing. Arise softly that you may not wake those who sleep near you, and let us away." "I am secured here, Ned. A rope is passed about iny body and the squaw who lies next to me is lying upon it." With his hunting knife he severed the rope and they passed from the lodge. Moving silent as specters they traversed the village and soon reached the horse in its place of concealment. As they approached the animal gave uttcrauce to a low whinny of recogni tion, and it seemed to come as a token of cheer to their anxious hearts. "We must use nil haste, darling, for discovery of your absence will lead to immediate pursuit. It l» terrible that you must bear exposure to this storm and the long fatiguing ride, but you must l>c brave." "I)o not worry about my comfort, dear," she replied. "I am strong, aud the exposure will not harm me in the least." UnlooMititf th*' 1»«* assisttMi too girl to a seat behind the saddle, and mounting.ill front of her turned the animal's head toward the fort. Throw ing her arms about him to secure her self in her position, she said: "Now, Ned, this Is a splendid scat aud you know I am an expert rider, so push ahead as fast as the noble horse <vtn travel with its double burden." "Then away to home and liberty, he said, as he touched the anlinal with the spurs. [TO U CONTINt'BD.J UfOTUB OBMTLJC VICTIM. p "What is It, Lizzie, a boy or a girl?" "A gall" "Dear, dear ine! there's some on# else who's got to worry about gittin' u husband)" —Life. The (Jiilrk ■»•<! thr I'rixt. Bob's Widow—Do you dare to sit there and tell me you consider yourself a better man than poor, dear liob? Her Brother—Of course I do, for hc'« dead.—Judge. Itrowliiß H'nrw. Judge—How old are you, miss? Elderly Female—l am- lam lam- Judge Hotter hurry up; every mo ment makes it worse. I'licgende Mut ter. \ N«.«.»«l! jr. Higbec— Ministers alwavs have u great many children. Bobbins—Well, they have to provide some way to use the slippers they re ceive for Christmas, lirooltlyn Life Wnnlfil to Stay So. She—lf you are a professional wom an hater, what are you going to marry for? He So that I can live up to my pro fession. Brooklyn Life tint thr Mm. Visitor Have you any new studio* this term? I Joy Yes'in; I'm stud v in' velloeii tion. —Good News. Cut short. Stay late I don't feel cbIWhI upon Ethel Knox (at twelve midnight)— Weil—lyawuU»K) 1 do. N. V. VVu'M IMPROVEMENT. THE ROAD LESSON. It Should Bt* Taught in Ktery f arm Horn* of tbo Country. It has been truly '•aid that the com mon highways of a country are at once the mean* anil the measure of its civilization This the fact, it is astonishing that the l.'uited States has in it the worst system of common roads of any country enjoying a stable government. By those who have thought upon this important subject it has long been conceded that the wretched country roads iu the L'nited States eutail upon the industries of the people the most serious tax with which they are burdened. Indeed, if there were any method by which the weight of this burden could be com peted I am persuaded that it would be found to bo gn atev than all the taxes levied by national, state, city and county laws combined. And yet the lawmakers in this country, as a gen eral thing, treat this great question as one only of slight importance—a ques tion that each neighborhood should solve for itself, or permit to go un solve 1. As long as this indisposition oil the part of the lawmakers lasts the road question i> likely in its larger as pects to remain unsolved. Hut in the meant me much may be done by forces hitherto not enlisted in the ranks of the road improvers to ameliorate the sad conditions now ex isting, for any marked improvement in the roads of a neighborhood teaches the people thereof lessons that mere arguments never could. I allude to the wives and the daughters of the farmers of the United States. If they will cast the weight of their influence with the men who are earnestly labor ing to improve the condition of the highways, then a great advance will have been made iu the good cause. Had roads contribute more than any other thing to this leeling of dissatis- the young people; th« deparflfre of the young people makes farm life more tiresome and less cheery than it was before. It seems inexph cable that American law makers, when these facts have been pointed out to them over and over again, should still persist in regarding the road problem as unimportant. Hut they do so regard it, and it is nec essary, before any progress can be made toward better things, to recog nize that they do. When we have reached this staire we are at the point where women individually and col lectively, that is, each woman acting on her own account and all women working in cooperation, can effective ly assist in the solution of one of the very gravest public problems that confront the American people. The men of the present and the men of the near future must be educated to know how grievously they are burdened and hampered by the sorry roads which connect village with village and farm with farm. If the women of America will take up this work of education the lessons will be surely and profit ably learned, and we will not much longer be ashamed to have our coun try roads compared with thoso of other countries. And there could be no better time than this for the women of America to begin their intervention in this matter. The homo is where the best lessons are learned. Let the road lesson be taken up at once.— SODS IN THE ROAD. An Ohio Man Utter* m Promt In Which Everybody Can Join. An indignant subscriber from Wyo ming, (>.. writes us follows: "Our road masters scrape all the lumps and sods and grass that they can get at and pile them along the center of the road for people to wear down. Such roads I can show you for iniles and miles In Fulton county. This is a bore on the citizens. On the sides you will have to watch or you will upset into the ditch, and iu the center a horse can not get along. If you have your la dies with you, you do not hear very pleasant remarks from them on the road question. We want good roads to-day, and we do not want to wear down the scrapers full all summer and all winter and all next year, so that we can get a passway over the center." This man's head is level if his coun ty roads are not. He sends a rough h'keteh to illustrate the matter; see Fig. 1- D, D, represents the ditches. W, W, «the wagon roads ami S the "sods, lumps and wild tausy in the middle." 1 have noticed tho same thintr everywhere. It is truo for long distances on both roads from my home to Cleveland. The grass and weeds grow all summer lon(f along the center, and the wagons must go on a sharp incline much of the way, 5 '** if ID f- the heavy wear being on the shoulder of the axles on tho lower side and on the burrs of the axles on tho upper side. One long strip in Twinsburg on the main center road about two miles due south of Twiusburg Is a series of hummocks exactly as the dump-scraper left the loads—with not a particle of leveling. The sides slant so much that a load of hay will nearly or qui to capsize and the middle is so "billowy" as to wrench a wagon terribly. I think the township trustees would be liable for damages should any occur. Hut small damage and annoyance con stantly occur Where the lartfe four horse road-scrapers are used they pile the soils, etc.. along the center of the road, too. I'nrotted sods should never in my opinion bo put there, and if lumps are put there they should bo well harrowed and rolled until they rnako a line, smooth surface which will pack down even If turf from the ditches must be used it. should bo plowed a year before and rotted thor oughly Then it handles far more euslly and can be worked into a smooth road bed. The place for the wajfon track in country roads is the level mid dle.not the sloping sides of the road. — Ohio Farmer. Coming F.vente. Now nil the collate hoys lientow Upon their hair anil rnusi-le f'onsuinniute care, liei-aiise they know tu fool bull they must hustle llnratlon of I.lie. Young Dr. Freshly Did you know. Miss do Muir, that the duration of a nerve's life Is only sixty days? Miss ile Muir- Not yours, doctor, 1 am sure. Detroit 1' rrr Press. Tlie Itoyal Wardrobe. Returned Missionary—The cannibal <juccii was clothed in a little brlrl authority, and— Mrs. Underilun (eagerly)— How was It trimmed?— Puck. « mM tfford it. First Physician— Is this a case that demands a consultation? Second Physician I think It is. The patient Is extremely rich. —N. Y. World. What's In u Namef Homo men fulled * «»y quite seldom smile, home Sinner* i-untmt MNkl irt/Vio Walkers wvu t wulU half a mile. No 2 EARTHQUAKE INDICATOR Telephone to Bo Used in Mexioo for That Purpose. An Original Plan Devised Whereby tba People of the Volranl * Zone May Be Warned of Approach ing Peril. Senor Francisco Estrada, prof essor of physics in the state college of San Luis I'otosi, Mexico, has submitted an original plan to the government for foretelling earthquakes in the volcanic tone of Mexico, by means of the tele phone. says the St. Louis Globe-Demo crat. Since the strong earthquake which visited the Valley of Mexico on NovemWr 2 last, killing eighteen per sons, he has made a special study of ftiis class of disturbances and their preceding signs. Ho has been making a long study of means of prediction for these destructive disturbances, and is sure he lias made a discovery of value, which value can only be appreciated by the inhabitants of the volcanic re gions. In the course of his very inter esting report the author says: "With the telephone and the more recent invention, the microphone, and with daily simultaneous observations, taken in the volcanic zone, which com prises Vera Cruz, I'uebla, Mexico und Guadalajara, I believe it possible to definitely prognosticate earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, as the result of the great interior changes of the earth, which change the geological construc tion of our land. The.jttriuoa that, trouble our loryfttishtnce telephones that use U?»'f : artli to complete the cir cuits, noises hitherto unexplained, I believe frotn my repeated observations are originated from two principal causes, atmospheric electricity and underground electrical currents, which come from depths more or less great. In the first case they are easily dis tinguished by exterior signs, such as storms, thunder, lightning, etc., but there are times when, the air being perfectly still, singular noises like murmurings, sand storms, blows or the rubbing of a rough body ujxm the In strument are heard at the telephone. As this instrument is the most sensi tive known. I judge it is suitable for the recognition of the approaching seismologic.il phenomena, which cause such great terror to the inhabitant of volcanic zones. I propose the rational study of these phenomena by the fol lowing plau: "Construction at various telephone lines; let one connect the central gov ernment meteorological observatory with the base of the volcano Papocat apetl, being grounded in one of the deepest cracks or crevasses, selecting among them one containing a thermal spring, connecting the other end of the line at the observatory with the metal lic tul>e of one of the deepest artesian wells in the city. Another line should run from I'uebla to the same mountain and then connect Guadalajara with the volcano of Colima, and later lines should be run to the peak of Orizaba, the Cofra de Pcrote, and the Jorutle volcano. I would place at least two telephones und one vertical galvanom eter at some convenient spot midway in the telegraph lines from Vera Crua to Puebla, from I'uebla to Mexico City, to Guadalajara, and Guadalajara to San Was, or some other Pacific port that has a telegraph oflice to take dally observations with the telephone. In each one of these branches or sections, and with all the lines conuected ai often as possible without interfering lug in tho </bier vat <>ru's at Mexico, I'u* ebla and Uuadolajara of a simple mlcropliouc composed of a carbon pen dulum suspended on a tiu spiral wire so arranged that It will close an elec tric circuit at the slightest motiou. and set an electric bell to ringing, in order to record the slightest movement of tho earth. If properly handled bv these means tho eruption of any vol cano and earthquake might be foretold many days in advance." DOG THAT WORMS TOBACCO. Kmtnckr Canine That I* Hired Oat a* a Field Hand. Speaking of funny things, did you ever hear of a wonderful dog that is owned by John A. Durr, who lives at Vanarsdall, a little Settlement down In Mercer county, Ky.? asks the Chicago Times. This dog Inputs Dick ltruce's and Tom Quinlin's dogs all holler, lie is worth his weight in gold. He worms tobacco, lie begins at the end of tho row and goes down the line at a lively gait, and no worm is left to tell tho tale of the desolation wrought. Tho dog learned this trick by following Durr's litt.lt" boys. When the boys would start down the row tho dog would follow along. After watching the youngsters for several days the dog caught on to the work himself anil took a great liking to It. One day Durr went out to his tobacco patch and found his boys play ing in the shade, which was not a strange thing for boys to do. "Why the devil ain't you worming tobacco?" ho yelled. "Ned's doing it," they yelled back. I)urr went to the patch and found the big pointer dog busily en gaged In worming the plants, and ho was doing It faster than both the boys could have done. Durr was tickled to death. After his own |>atch had been wormed he hired the dog out to his neighbors at one dollar a day. All tills can bo proved by two or three revenue man who uover 110. A MmUit AdvertUer. There Is something rather alarming to the ordinary mortal in an advcrtfse inent which npptars in tho London Athenaeum —the advertisement of a lady who is a perfect |>uragon of intel lectual and social virtues. "Experi enced linguist, litterateur, secretary, cultured companion, musician, pleasant raconteuse"—here in a catalogue calcu lated to appall the Iwildcst. Moreover, she is "accustomed to various coun tries," and Is capable of undertaking either "tuition (flnlshliig) or house keeping." She now "seeks any intel lectual post at home or abroad." How to I>o It. Little Iloy—What did your mamma want? Little Girl—She wanted me to tidy up the room a little. "What did you do?" "Carried out the tidies."—Good News. Ventilation. Visitor to Public Institution—lsn't It rather close here? Don t you think there is need of ventilation? City Father Ventilation ? Great Dwsarl No; there's been altogether too much ventilation of the pluco already. —Boston Transcript. An ArtUtlr Touch. Syms—There Is a certain touch about Dauber that I like. Smylcs (who has loaned Dauber money)— And there Is a certain touch about him that I don't llko.—N. V. World. Had Ills Iteaaon. Housekeeper— Why don't you get work somewhere and settle down/ Tramp- Well, you see, mum, this 'ere new income tax sort o' takes all the en ergy out of a feller. —N. Y. Weekly. A Close ( alt. Dud—l had a close call last night. Spud—How? I hid Man In the room next to mine talked to me uu hour over Un> Vruirjum y|>l»
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers