SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W, M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VII. THE FLOOD. I. The rhythmic ring of a horse's 4MI Echoes along the city street, And the idle-crowd swarms out to seo Who can the reckless rider bo. With bloodless faco and blazing eyes Hedasheson, and wildly cries: "Fly, for the river's wrath is near! Fly, for the Flood—the Flood is here!" He passes, and they stand amazed! Then jest, and deem the rider crazed— Some mischief-breeding adillepate— Then turn and see, and fly—too late! 11. With a moan and a groan, ,With a shriek and a roar, Down on the town t i ■ The waters pour— A shivering crash, And it is no more! The torrent sweeps on its changeless path, Grinding the puny walls like chaff, In its awful play. Like straws before the fresh'ning breeze, Like sands beneath the beating seas, They pass away. The seething whirlpool boils and foams Above a thousand ruined homes, And on its bosom sped, All ghastly in the waning light. Are borne into the coming night An army of the dead. in. Tears for the souls that passed away; But charity for thoso t ~ Whose all was lost that bitter day; . * Whose call for pity goes Up from hearts that are sad and sore 1 And laden down with woes; Tears for the livas that are no more, But charity for those. —Glen MacDonotigh, in New York World. •THE OLD-CLO' MAN. (V ,v "Oh, such pretty vases,-mamma!" said Fanny, nearly throwing herself out of the window, in her eagerness to look after an old-clothes man, who with Lis bag upon his shoulder, and his basket of brittle ware upon his arm, was just at that moment passing the door. "Such pretty, pretty vases! Do let me have one, mamma!" Now, I never, on any account, en courage one of those people. I have hitherto made it a positive rule never to allow one of them to cross my threshold. Yet, somehow, Fanny's eyes—they are just like Psalter's—looked so coaxingly into mine that, before I had taken a moment to consider about it, I opened the door, and the minute I did so, of course, the old-clothes man came straight up the stairs, with his "Old clo-! old shocn! Enny tings to change dis morn ing, laty?" As I had opened the door, I thought it could do no harm to humor Fanny, just for once, you know; so, telling the man to wait a moment, and bidding Fanny,in a whisper, not to leave the hall until I came back (for I was afraid the man might meddle with something while was I was gone), Iran upstairs, aud was soon engaged in inspecting the contents of a musty old wardrobe in the .lumber room. Tliwe was an old office coat of Psalter's, terribly out at elbows; an old vest of Brother John's totally destitute of pock ets ; a little frock of Fanny's, which she had outgrown a year before; and a broche shawl of my own, which had been spotted with rain, and which I had placed in the wardrobe in a fit of im patience, pretending to myself that it was utterly ruined. It was the only thing of any value there, and, in fact, it was so good that I hesitated about producing it on the present occasion. I turned it about and looked at it oVer and over again. The center was the only part which was stained. I could rip the border off and have it dyed,and my shawl would be as good as new again. But then it was so much trouble, and I had a verv pretty shawl and a cloak and beaded wrap besides. Still, I -did feel afraid that it would be wrong to dispose of it for next to nothing. While I was deliberating on the sub ject, I heard some one behind me»say: "Why don't you come, mamma?" and there, if you'll believe me, stood that disobedient child, notwithstanding I had told her not leave the hall on any accqunt. There she was, and the old clothes-man was alone downstairs. I declare I had half a mind to shake her well. Iran downstairs immediately. There stood the peddler just where I had left him, rubbing his hands one over the other, and looking so steadfastly at nothing that he really seemed to have a cast in one of his eyes and a squint in the other. Ugh! what a villainous looking face he had—it absolutely made me shudder. He lifted the coat from the chair upon which 1 had laid it, and held it at arm's length with a super cilious air. "Ah!" he said, "dat is goot for nothings, laty. Dat ish nftt goot for rags. I got very pretty tings in my basket. Laty, any old clo's, old shoes— anything else, laty? Little laty, want pretty tings out uv my basket?" "Here's a froek," said Fanny, "and a vest of Uncle John's, and a shawl of ma's." "Ah!" grunted the man."The froek is no good—not worth nothings. The vest was no use mit me. The shawl was lectle petter, laty. Vot you vant for him?" "I want a pretty vase," said Fanny. "Ah! lcetle laty," said the peddler," "I makes no monish mit you—you too hard on me. Veil, veil, I takes de clo's. Dey ish worth nothing, most nothing, laty, and I will give you dis vase. I make myself poor bargain, leetle laty. Ugh! I make no monish mit you and with innumerable jerks and moves and gesticulations he thrust a little vase, with a very gaudy pattern printed on the front, into the child's hand and began to gather up the articles from the floor where he had dropped them. Just then I happened to glance through the window, and saw to my chagrin two of my most fashionable acquaintances coming up the street; and really, for the moment, I would not have cared how much the man had cheated me, so that I got him out of the house before they came up. He did go at last, although he came back after they were in the hall to say: "Next time you has petter tings, lady; then we make petter bargains. I make no monish mit you this day, laty. Good by. I come next week—den you hash petter tings." At which speech Mrs. Japonica rolled up her eyes and asked me what the man meant; and Miss Cornelia Japonica "wondered I didn't move nearer Fifth avenue, where I would not be subject to the intrusions of such people." The Japonicas stood a good while and talked away about all manner of fashion able nothings—the last concert and the last party at Mrs. Highflyer's how sweetly Screeholini sang, and how ele gantly Miss Wilkins was dressed the other day. By the time they went Clara and Rosa and Dick were home from school, and Fanny was crying for lunch. So my time was pretty well occupied for an hour or more, and I forgot all about the old peddler until Rosa began to fidget about the room and rummage my work box and desk for something she had lost. "What arc you looking for, Rosa?" I said, rather impatiently, as she overset a box of cotton. "I wish you would be more careful." "It's all Fanny's fault, ma. I told her not to touch it till I came home," an swered Rosa. "I don't care, said Fanny; "it was mine, too." "It was more mine," said Rosa, "be cause I'm the biggest—warn't it, ma?" "What are you speaking of?" I in quired. "What was more yours?" "Why, the money pa gave us to piny store with," said Rosa. "The banlc-bill, you know, ma." Psalter had received a bad §5 bill some time before, and, after marking it with red ink, had kept it in his pocketbook until a few days before, when lie .gave it to the children as a plaything. I had seen it in Fauny's hand that very morn ing, just before the clothes man passed the window, and the moment I remem bered that I guessed where the note had vanished. "Did you have it when you saw your little vase in the man's basket, Fanny?" I said. "Oh yes, ma!" said Fanny. "I recol-' lect now, I put it on the hall table when I opened the door. I'll go and look there." She went, but of course didn't find it. Ido declare I had to laugh when I thought how disappointed the old ped dler would feel when he found out that the bill was worthlesss. I quite enjoyed it. My merriment was shortened, however; for not fifteen minutes after I discovered that a new vest of Psalter's, which he had only brought home the day before, and which I had laid upon my work-bas ket until I should find time to set the buckle at the back a little farther for ward, was missing. 1 searched every where, but the vest was nowhere in the house. Such a beautiful thing as it was, too, and Psalter had given more for it than I had ever known him to give for a vest before, because lie admired it so— to think that it should be lost through my own foolish carelessness, for of course I knew that old peddler had it! I never felt so distressed in all dq g life about such LAPORTE, PA.., FRIDAY, JULY 12, 1889. a thing. I would far rather have lost my own velvet bonnet, or even my best dress. I would willingly have had my hair cut short off all the way round, like a boy's, to have had it back again, and I'm sure I couldn't say more than that. Glad as I always am to hear Psalter's step upon the sidewalk, I almost dreaded to hear it that night, for I should have to tell him all about it; and though I knew he wouldn't scold, yet, dear me! I did feel so ashamed of my stupidity. The first thing Fanny did when she heard father getting his latch-key into the key-hole was to run, with her vase in her hand, down to the entry to show her bar gain to him, and, tripping over the rug, down she came just as he opened the door, smashing the china and cutting her poor little lip terribly. There was an end of the vase, and her lamentations over her broken toy and cut lip were deafen ing, and while trying to soothe her I for got all about the peddler and vest both for a little time. Peace was restored, and I was just filling the teapot, when Brother John arrived, looking exceed ingly complacent, and carrying a parcel under his arm, which he laid upon the sofa. "What is in that paper, Uncle John?" said Fanny, inquisitive as usual, trying to untie the cord which fastened the pack age. "That is my new vest, Fan," said John, untying the string himself. At the word "vest," my heart sank like a lump of lead. "Oh, dearl"l thought, "the time is coming. I must tell now, very soon." "It is just like yours, Psalter," said John. "You know how I admired that. Well, by a rare piece of good fortune, an old fellow offered me just such a one this morning, and I bought it. I don't be lieve you could tell the two apart." And he held up a vest so like Psalter's that it seemed absolutely the same. "The old fellow had a lovely shawl, which he said was a wonderful bargain— only $5! It is just the color of the one you were so partial to, that was stained or spotted, or something, so I thought I'd bring it up to you." He held it toward me; but when I took it in my hand, good gracious! it was— no, it couldn't be—yes, it absolutely was —the very shawl I had given to the old peddler man for Fanny's vase. The spots were taken out and it had been brushed and ironed, but it was the very same. John did not notice my agitation, but went on: "I think my vest came to less than yours did, Psalter. Let me see. I gave him a $lO note, and he gave me this in change. I hope it is good." And John drew from his pocket a note marked with red ink on the back. "W T hy, Uncle John," cried Rosa, the moment her eyes fell upon the bill, "where did you find my money?" "Your money, child?" cried John, as tonished. "Your money?" "Yes, uncle—my bad money that pa gave me to play with. Don't you see the red letters on the back—bad—that pa put there?" John turned the note over on the other side. "The child is right," he said. "What docs all this mean?" While he was looking at the note with all his might I reached over and picked up the vest, turned it on the wrong side,' and there, sure enough, were Psalter's ini tials, written in indelible ink by my own hands that very morning. "Of whom did you buy these things, John?" I asked. "Oh, didn't I tell you?" said John. "An old man who said he kept a large clothing store, but being in poor circum stances was obliged to peddle off the re mainder of his stock himself." "Had he a nose like our parrot's beak and eyebrows that went up so?" said Fanny, making two little right angles with her forefingers over licr eyes; "be cause if he had, it's our old clothes man, and he got that bill off the hall table." "Why—what—l can't make this out," said John, completely bewildered. "What do you mean by 'our old clothes man,' Fanny?" "Why, a man came to the door with pretty things in a basket," said Fanny, "and ma gave him a shawi and an old coat for my pretty vase that I broke just now; and after he had gone we found that he had stolen pa's vest and my bad money, uncle." "Yes, John,"! Putin, "and he must have gone straight down town after he left me and sold the articles to you, for that is the only way in which I can account for the fact of your having brought them up again iust as I had made ur> mv mind that I had bidden good-by to them forever." John's astonishment beggared descrip tion. He stood open-mouthed, rumpling bis hair with both hands for more than ten minutes; and then—but no matter what he said. Suffice it to say that such invectives of vengeance on the whole race of old clothes speculators were never bo fore uttered, and that those hurled on the head of the particular one in question I amounted to auathamas. Every talo should have a moral, and remember well the one affixed to this, all ye housekeepers. "Never deal with old-clo' men, for one peddler is o match for fivo ordinary females."— Mary Kyle Dallas. Making Dirt Maps. The British in upper Burmah have found it necessary within the last two years to send several columns of troops against the uncivilized inhabitants in the Burmese Shan States north :wd east ol that country. These regions were almost as little known as the lands within the Antarctic circle, and it was therefore a very difficult matter to move troops and adequately arrange for their food supplies. The officers in charge of these expeditions tried to get all the information they could of the country, of its mountains T rivers, fords, roads and agricultural resources, from the natives they met, but their suc cess was very poor. They found that by the time they had questioned the savages a few minutes they were weary and out of temper and refused to answer ques tions. Finally a bright idea struck one of the Englishmen. He invented a new diversion for the natives and it worked like a charm. Every day when camp was pitched, usually near some Shan caravansary, a space of ground was spaded up, aud then the people at the inn, traders and travel ers, were invited to make a relief map in the dirt of as much of the country as they knew. Captain Dun, of the British army, says the natives readily caught the idea, and it was amusing to see the child ish delight they took in making dirt maps of the country. They piled up the mountain ranges, excavated the valleys and rivers,stuck little sticks in the ground for forests, and indicated the regions that were well cultivated. Of course such a map would be almost valueless unless it were made with some regard to proper proportions. So they used sticks about a foot long to represent a day's march, and on this scale they rudely fashioned their maps. Sometimes two or three hours were spent in making the map, and now and then rival cartographers would each appropriate a piece of ground and display his talents as a map-maker. 'I he information thus obtained was very useful. The British officers were nearly every day engaged in drawingcharts based upon the dirt maps iu relief, and ■it was not often found that the native information was so far out of the way as to be valueless. It would be interesting to see whether this plan would work in Africa among the natives of whose geo graphical inaccuracies the explorers are constantly complaining. Stanley is the latest aggrieved explorer, the natives having told him on his recent march tc Albert Uyan/.a of a great lake which lit fondly hoped to reach until he became convinced that it was wholly mythical. Buried Treasure Unearthed. The people at Friar's Point, Miss., are much excited over the discovery of a hid den treasure, and crowds were recently out digging, as if the town was a gold mine. One morning when the steamer Belle Memphis arrived at the town, the passengers saw a fisherman and his two little sons "grubbing" in the loose loam a hundred yards below the wharf boat. Soon afterward the boys rushed up to their father at the landing, and showed him several ding}' pieces of metal that they had found. The fisherman saw that they were twenty-dollar gold pieces, and ran to the place and began digging. The passengers on the boat followed, and the spot was soon alive with eager miners. Pocket knives, parasols, and fingers were the tools used, and they yielded a rich re turn. The fisherman got about S6OO. A lady passeuger secured .SSOO, and others got smaller sums, the whole amount ag gregating several thousand dollars, all in twenty-dollar gold pieces bearing date oj 1855) and 1860. The money was burie York Commercial Advertiser. ii" i Proclaiming His Disgrace. The Siamese have a curious method of punishing their police-constables when found guilty of an offense. Not very long ago one of these guardians of the peace was seen standing near the door of the police station with his hands tied behind his back, and wearing on his breast a board with the following notice: "My name is Cuddy, and I have been placed here by the order of Corporal Sin. Last night I stole a sword belonging to His Majesty, the King, and was taken in the act by a guard at the moment when I was carrying off the article under my arm. To-day I repent that base action. The inspector is very angry with me, and says I deserve a punishment, my offense being a serious one, as I belong to the police. I entreat vhe passers-by to look me in the face, and tell me sincerely if I ought to be whipped. In my opinion my crime is not a very serious one, because everybody here does the same,"