SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M, CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL.VII.
BULLS AND BEARS.
Tl\e farmer with the banker ranks;
He's not afraid of "bujjs and bears;"
He manages substantial banks,
In which he holds "advancing" shares.
Tender his lambs, fit for the slaughter;
"Lively"' the stock he has to water.
His bonks arc banks of loam and clay,
He shares his plow-shares in the mould.
Nature he trusts, and gets his pay
In dividends of green and gold.
His "margins'' are in fields grown over
With crops, and he can "live in clover."
His stock if "down" is suro to "rise"
When he "rails" "white face," "spot" and
"roAn;"
And ho is "cute" and worldly wise
When speculators ask a loan.
He prospers well ut money-making
E'en when his richest banks are breaking.
The farmer with his "spanking" team,
"Lightfoot" and "Swit't" can sweep tho
plain.
His "splendid sorrell" and his •'cream"
Will "take no dust," with might and
mane;
They speed in triumph fast and faster,
Uphill and down without diaster.
His face is bronzed, his hands are brown,
But on his name there is no stain.
Ho sleeps well when his stock is down,
For well ho knows 'twill rise again.
And when time brings fate's rainy weather
He'll discount what he's "put" together.
In field and orchard we behold
Tho plowman's promissory notes.
His green backs are redeemed with gold,
And not with "stuff" the broker floats.
His best protection his good sense is.
Nor bulls nor bears break down his fences.
—George W. Bungay, in Harper's Weekly.
DENNY'S LUCK,
BY WILLIAM G. PATTEN.
Dennis Lowry was his name, but every
ono who knew him called him Denny.
He was a tall, rather good-looking, yet
slouchy-appearing young fellow of twen
ty-two or three. He had always lived in
the sleepy little country village of New
ton and every one for miles around knew
him. He was called lazy and shiftless,
and it was true that he had never excited
himself a great deal to prove the charge
false. lie was inclined to lay his poor
circumstances to luck. Worse than
being born poor, he had been unlucky.
This was what he told himself, but peo
ple who knew him, averred that he had
never made any vigorous attempt to
change his luck. Denny was a dreamer.
It was his delight to wander away through
the woods or fields, and to lay all alone
amid the sweet-scented grass and watch
the clouds as they sailed along above, or
to follow the swift flight of the swallows
as they circled and whirled at dizzy
heights. He would lie thus for hours
with his mind filled with wild fancies of
the future when his luck had changed.
Denny had a poet's soul, but lacked a
poet's power of expression.
Denny and Inza Porter grew up to
gether. They were playmates while chil
dren, and their friendship seemed to
grow stronger as they became older-
Denny was so kind and gentle that he
seemed much like a girl himself. Inza
was a little, dark-eyed, red-lipped witch,
whose very soul seemed always a-bubble
with mirth. She was unlike Denny in
many respects, yet something seemed to
bind them together.
Denny never kuew when he beguu to
love Inza. It seemed to him that he had
loved her always. She seemed a part of
his life, and his dreams by night and by
day were colored by her presence. And
so the days became weeks, the weeks
months, and the months years, still
Denny was the same shiftless, dreaming,
unlucky fellow.
One night they wandered away across
the fields to an old moss-covered wall,
where they stopped to watch the sunset.
Inza sat down upon a flat stone and Denny
flung himself at her feet. The sun had
just sunk behind the western hills, but
the purple and gray clouds were painted
with the various colors of damask,crimson
and molten gold. A rich purple haze
hung about the distant hills,and stretched
down over the woodlands, growing
fainter and fainter as the distance became
less. A little' Stream wound through the
hollow at their feet, from the farther side
of which came the plaintive bleat of a
lamb. A slowly circling crow shouted
hoarsely from away in a distant, wood.
For several moments they sat there en
raptured at the beautiful scene. Finally
Inza spoke:
"Isn't it beautiful, Denny?" she
breathed.
He drew a long breath as though a
sweet spell had been broken, and his eyes
sought hers.
"Beautiful!" he whispered, in a soul -
thrilling way. "Yet the word does not
express it. Painter or poet cannot repro
duce the beauty, the peace, the lcrve of
God there is in tuch a scene."
"Denny," said Inza, in sudden convic
tion, "you ahould have been a poet; you
have a poet's soul."
"I know it,"he replied, a touch of bit
terness in his voice; "but I cannot put
my thoughts 0:1 paper. I have tried Inza,
but I cannot express a hundredth part of
what there is within me. It is my luck
to be thus unfortunate."
For a long time after this they did not
speak, but feasted their eyes on the scone
before them. Finally Denny took Inza's
hand, and gazing into her dark eyes, said
earnestly:
"Inza, I love you. You know this
already. We have grown up together,
and our affection for each other has been
no secret, yet now I wish to tell you that
it is not merely as a friend that I love
you, but I want you for my wife. Will
you marry me?"
Inza was startled.
"Denny," cried she, "you surprise me!
I have not dreamed of hearing such
words from you, and yet I—l have," she
confessed, falteringly—"l have not al
lowed myself to think of such things,
for it seemed that when you spoke such
words you would tear us asunder for
ever."
"Why" lie asked, hoarsely. "Why
tear us asunder? If you become my wife
that will simply bind us closer together."
"Denny," she spoke softly, "can you
support a wife? We have been together
from childhood and I acknowledge that
1 love you, yet would I not be a burden
on your hands? You have nothing with
which to begin life, and you say luck has
always been against you. Would not
your situation be still worse were you
married?"
For a fer moments his head fell upon
his breast. They sat there in silence.
From a pasture far away came the mellow
sound of a cow bell and the crow that
was still circling over the woods uttered
a few harsh cries.
Suddenly Denny started to his feet and
stretched his hand toward tho sun-painted
west.
"There is gold there!" he* cried. "Gold
in the western land! You can see it re
flected against the sky! Inza, I am going
there to make my fortune. From this
hour I am going to be a man, and, Den
nis Lowry's luck shall change. I will
come back rich to claim you, Inza. You
will wait for me, darling?"
Words were not needed for his answer;
one look into her dark eyes was enough.
He clasped her in his arms, and for the
first time their lips met in a kiss of true
love.
A week later Denny started on his
l .
! journey.
Soon she received letters from Denny
—hopeful, encouraging letters. She an
swered them all, trying to cheer him who
was workibg for fortune—and her. He
was in the mines, toiling, sweating, hop
ing. Others were making big strikes and
securing fortunes; it would be his turn
soon. But slowly a year dragged by and
still Denny was as far from fortune as
ever. His old luck hung by him like a
spectre.
Finally he cased to write. Inza was
tortured l.y hope and fear. Had he made
a fortunate strike and was coming home,
or was lie sick, perhaps dead? She could
not tell.
Another year wore away and theu
Inza was married. It was a match of her
parents' making, and she consented, to
please them. Her husband was a well
to-do young farmer, and he was really
fond of her. Inza found him kind and
affectionate, and she surrendered her life
into his care, feeling that perhaps it was
best that she should do so.
One evening just at sunset, eight years
after Inza's marriage to Joel Gray, a be
whiskered, footsore, weary-appearing
tramp turned into Mr. Gray's dooryard.
His clothes were ragged and his entire
appearance was that of a man who had
seen hard times, indeed. He came along
the path with a slow, tired step. Near
the door a little dark-eyed girl was play
ing, and the tramp paused to gaze stead
ily at her for several minutes. Inza,who
was standing by a window with a baby
in her arms, regarding the stranger with
some alarm, saw him dash a tear from his
eye. Then she kuew that there was
nothing to fear from him.
Just then Joel came from the barn yard
with a brimming milk pail in either hand.
The stranger turned toward him as he
approached and asked if he could have
something to eat and a night's'lodging.
"It is asking much, I know," said the
tramp, in an unsteady voice, "but if I do
not fiud shelter, I must sleep beneath the
open sky with only God's green grass for
a bed. I have seen better days, sir, but
luck always was against me."
Joel Gray had no particular love for
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, JULY 19, 1889.
tramps, yet there was something about
this man that won his sympathy. As a
result, the stranger was given some supper
and permission to stop at the farm house
that night. I
The tramp ate his bread and milk In
silence, but Inza was conscious that a pair
of sad blue eyes were watching her every
movement. '
The man did not eat much for one who
professed to be eo hungry, and when
Inza spoke to him he replied in a low
mumbling manner. When lie had finished
eating and moved away from the table,
little Lucy, Inza's oldest child, came to
him and deliberately climbed upon his
knee. He gathered her up in his arms,
while his whole frame trembled with
emotion. The child lay there trustingly,
passing her fingers through the man's
beard and crooning to herself. And thus
he held her while the twilight shadows
gathered and she stopped her soft sing
ing to close her eyes in slumber. The
shadows concealed the toars that ran
silently down the man's face and were
lost in his beard. No one saw him as he
tenderly kissed the sleeping child.
That night Joel Gray's buildings were
burned to the ground. To this day it is
a mystery how the fire caught, but. some
time in the night the family was aroused
by the smoke and flames. The fire had
already seized the house in its fatal grasp,
and with difficulty Mr. Gray and Inza
escaped, the latter with the bain; in licr
arms. Close behind tlvem the tramp
came staggering out of tho burning house.
Joel caught him fiercely by the throat.
"This is your work!" shouted the
farmer, hoarsely.
The stranger daslied aside his assailant's
hands as he replied:
"As God is ray judge it is not!"
Inza seized her husband's arm, as she
shrieked:
"Lucy! Lucy! Where is she?"
"Great God!" groaned Joel, as he
staggered as if about to fall. "She must
be in there!"
"I will save her," declared the tramp,
quietly, as he turned, sprang up the steps
and vanished through the doorway into
the burning building.
Every moment that followed seemed
like an age of suspeuse and horror to
Joel Gray and his wife. Suddenly a
dark figure appeared at 0110 of the win
dows, and all about him the fierce flames
seemed leaping and curling. He held a
large bundle in his arms. There was
a crash of glass, a dark mass shooting
downward, a heavy thud, and the tramp
lay at their feet.
Joel sprang forward and unwrapped
the blanket that enveloped the form of
his little daughter, and to his joy found
her alive, though nearly smothered. The
stranger lay quite still where he had fallen.
The farmer bent over the brave rescuer
of his daughter, and as he turned the
tramp upon his back, tho man's eyes
opened, and he murmured:
"Inza!"
There was something familiar in that
voice that seemed to touch the very depths
of the woman's soul. Quickly she bent
over him.
"Inza, don't you know met" he mur
mured.
"Denny!" she cried, wildly. "Denny,
is it you? Have you come back after all
these years?"
"Yes, I have come back, and I brought
my old luck with me. I have come back
to die t lam going to try my luck in
another country, and with the Master to
guide me, I think it will turn fo. the
better. The gold that seemed to be re
flected against the sunset sky was not for
me. This life has been a failure, Inza,
but I hope to make amends up yonder."
And while Joel Gray, the thrifty far
mer, worked hard to save his cattle and
a part of his tools, Dennis Dowry, the
man of hard luck and a poet's soul, lay
dying with head resting in Inza's lap. He
told her all his sad tale, his struggles, his
sufferings and failures. He whispered of
a blow on the head that had deprived him
of his reason for years, and how, when
he was once more himself, he had hastened
to find her. lie loved her still, and his
dying wish was that she might be happy
always.
And so, with the red light of the burn
ing house all about him, he breathed his
last in Inza's arms, happy with her kiss
upon his lips. Yankee Blade.
Census Superintendent Porter has ap
pointed S. N. D. North, of Boston,
Secretary of the Natioual Association of
Wool Manufacturers, to have charge of
the statistics of wool and worsted in
dustries and of the newspaper and
periodical press throughout the United
StAtes. Mr. North was formerly editor
of the Utica (N. Y.) Herald.
CURIOUS FACTS.
The "watermelon center" of the world
is Quitman, Ga.
The first shoe was patented in 1811, by
two Massachusetts men.
A three-legged alligator was shot the
other day near Albany, Ga.
Concmaugh is pronounced Kon-e-maw
with accent on the first syllable.
The rattles off rattlesnakes fetch $1 a
string in the snake centers of Pennsyl
vania.
There is a man in Hart County, Ga.,
who spells his entire name with two
letters, Bob Bobo.
Sprenger computes that during the
Christian era no fewer than nine million
witches were immolated.
A Selma (Ala.) paper says there aro
"222 girls, 222 boys, and one Chinese
boy" in that school district.
Another portion of the old city wall by
which Loudon was surrounded has just
been brought to light in the neighbor
hood of Ludcrate Hill.
George Shank, a Pliiladelphian, has
spent $(>000 trying to find a way to pre
serve watermelons the year through, and
he hasn't struck it yet.
A boy twelvo years of age has been
sentenced to one mouth's imprisonment
at Miltown, Ireland, for inciting the
people to boycott, a sate of cattle.
A Canadian paper figures that iu the
event of a war between England and the
United States it would last at least five
years, and that 1,500,000 men would be
killed.
Little No Heart is the name of a Sioux j
Indian at Cheyenne Agency who always
wears tailor-made suits, and is said to be
as dudish as the Little No Brains tribe
found the larger cities.
The proceedings of the Japanese Parlia
ment are reported verbatim by means of a
stenographic system original to Japan.
The characters are written in perpendi
cular rows from right to left.
A foreign jiaragrnph announces the es
tablishment of a " subscription" bar, in
Europe, where a man by payment of a fee
of $l5O per annum can obtain all ho
wishes to drink without further cost.
A grocer at Lexington, Ky., had a
picture of the prettiest girl in town
painted on the cover of his delivery
wagon, and her brother shot it off with a
sliot-gun. The grocer dropped to the
hint.
The Emperor of China is seldom dis
turbed iu his sleep. A Pekin paper an
nounces that "strict surveillance is kept
by the gendarmerie around the palace to
prevent the imperial repose being broken
by firing of crackers, street cries or wrang
ling voices, the blowing of horns or noisy
marriage or funeral processions."
Clerks in the postal service say: Never
use a square envelope. Women are more
in the habit of using them than men. A
square envelope, large or small, but es
pecially large, is anathema in the eyes of
a postal clerk. He likes an oblong en
velope of a mc 'erately largo size—
crnment numbe '4 or 5, corresponding
to the stationer umber 6.
A prominent > en of Parsons, Kan.,
determined to su /ith a party of friends
against the will < his wife. He was re
solved that he wc ..Id, and she that he
should not go. His friends missed him,
and just for fun envaded his residence,
where they found him and his wife sitting
in their chairs fast asleep. He had given
her an opiate that he might slip away,
and she had given him one that he
might not.
A Huge London Hotel.
The largest hotel in London is the
! Metropole, and the fact that 1000 per
! sons were accommodated there during
j the jubilee celebration affords the conti
! nental papers an opportunity to express
j unbounded astonishment. Upward of
! 6,000,000 bricks were used in its con
' struction, with 11,000 tons of iron-work,
j and 70 miles of electric light and bell
wire have been laid. The building is
ten stories high, as many as 1000 people
have dinner in one day, 500 people
J can be seated at separate tables, u staff
' of a dozen clerks are needed to attend
| to the bookkeeping, and 35 to 40 men
j arc always busy in the kitchen, from
i which region over 300,000 pounds of
j meat, 44,000 pounds of butter, 460,000
eggs and 75,000 quarts of milk are sent
per annum, while the water used ap
proaches 20,000,000 gallons a year.—
San Francisco Chronicle.
Life is no chestnut; it is story that is
only told once.— K«u> York Herald.
Terms—sl.26 in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months.
A White Waif Rescued From Chinamen.
Chief of Police Crowley received in
formation several weeks ago that a little
white girl was an inmate of the large
Chinese tenement-house at 1110 Dnpont
street. Acting upon this information De
tectives Cox and Qlennon of the China
town squad made a careful search of the
premises in question,but failed to find the
girl. The disappointed officers, after
finishing the fifth floor, were to
withdraw, when the quick eye of Detec
tive Glcnnon perceived a suspicious-look
ing cracker box inverted in one corner of
the room and carefully guarded by a huge
vase and an old Chinese. With him to
think was to act, and promptly stepping
across the room he pushed the ancient
Chinese aside and turning the box on its
side discovered lying on the floor the pros
trate figure of a child. It needed but a
glance to convince him that in this odd
looking figure he had discovered the ob
ject of their search. The child was too
frightened to cry, and uttered no protest
when Olennou reached down and took
hor in his arms. Then, despite the pro
testations of the excited Chinese, he car
ried her to the receiving hospital, leaving
Officer Cox to inquire Into the matter.
At the hospital it was discovered that
the child was a slightly built girl, ap
parently about six years of age, and to
all appearances of either German or
Swedish parentage. She was dressed in
the usual garb of Chinese children, with
her hair shaved from the forehead and
temples and plaited with long colored
braids, as is the custom with the Chinese
women. She was unable to speak a word
of English, and when addressed could
only reply in Chinese, which she spoke
most fluently. Sho was turned over to
Mrs. Murphy, the hospital matron, and
submitted in silent wonder to the un
known luxury of a bath, from which she
emerged a very pretty and attractive lit
tle girl—an appearance which was greatly
heightened when she was clothed in a gay
red dress kindly sent in by one of the
officers. Stockings were something she
evidently had not been accustomed to,
and she resolutely refused to put them
on. Once dressed she ran about the hos
pital in great glee, and in a short time
her odd little ways and the infantile Chi
nese voice have rendered her a prime fa
vorite with everybody about. Dr. En
right announced that he was goings to
adopt her as the hospital pet until pro
vision could be made for her elsewhere.
All that could be learned with regard
to the child was that, she had been in
Chinatown for five years. The persons
from whom she was recovered profess en
tire ignorance of where she came from.
The officers believe her to be the daughter
cf some unfortunate mother who aban
doned her while still a babe.— San Fran
cisco Chronicle.
Ancient Laws Auout Suicide.
The Grecian Areopagus and the magis
trates of the Island of Ceos had discre
tionary power to permit suicide.
Justinian said it was lawful to commit
suicide, provided the State or public
treasury was not affected thereby.
In Thebes no funeral rights were
granted the fclo de se, and his memory
was branded with infamy.
In Athens the hand of the self mur
derer was cut off and buried apart from
his body, which was also immediately
buried without being burned.
During the reign of Tarquin, the Ro
man authorities exposed the bodies of sui
cides upon crosses for birds of prey to
feast on.
A standard authority on ancient Jew
ish law says: "If any one shall commit
suicide, there shall be no mourning, nor
keriah (rending of garments), nor any of
fice performed in honor of the dead.
!■
A Ring Thirty-Five Hundred Years Old.
The Smithsonian Institution has re
ceived a gift of great antiquity from the
Chinese Minister. It is a "jade" ring,
about ten inches in diameter and one
eighth of an inch in thickness, with a
hollow center about four inches in diam
eter. It is of a pale hue.
The ring is known as the "Han Pek"
jewel of the dynasty of Han, an old-time
Monarch of 3500 years ago. Court offi
cers of that day, when an audience was
accordeil them liy the Euiperor, held the
ring with both hands and thrust their
fingers into the opening to guard agniust
moving their hands while addressing the
throne, the emphasizing of their remarks
by flourishes of the hands presumably be
ing contrary to official etiquette. The
ring was used as an emblem of submission
or respect for the sovereign. It was re
cently unearthed from a sepulclier, hav
ing been buried with the owner.
NO. 41.
FUN.
A boom in pickled pork is a case of salt
rising.
A lynching party always travels at a
break-neck speed.
Oftentimes the boldest of ventures is to
venture an opinion.
If you are traveling in a Pullman car
you want to give a fat man a wide berth.
—New Orleans Picayune.
Appropriate Ending to a Mask-Maker's
Advertisement. — constant
ly added."— Pittq/ield Sun.
"Bromley, I hear you are going to
housekeeping." "Yos, Darlinger."
"What have you got toward it?" "A
wife."— Detroit Free Pre*!.
Geologists tell us of a time in the
earth's history when vegetation had a
monopoly of the life upon it. That timu
must have been the foliage.— Cleveland
Sun.
A young Frenchman, living at Bor
deaux, has advertised that he will sail
for the United States in July and com
mit suicide at Niagara Falls on the first
day of August. Get your tickets now
and avoid the rush.— Detroit Free Press.
It was a Connecticut boy who surprised
his teacher in reading the other day by
his interpretation of the sentence: "There
is a worm; do not tread on him. ' lie
read slowly nnd hesitatingly: "There is
warm doughnut; tread ou him! ■
Christian Register.
Morris Parke—"There is Franklin do
Belleville. Let's turn down this street."
Madison Squeer—"l thought you and he
wen- great friends." Morris Parke "So
we are, but he moved into the suburbs
lately, and I don't want to hear anything
about his garden."
She (romantic)—"Oh, how beautifully
significant those Indian names are! Ala
bama, for instance. 'Here let us rest!'"
He (unromantic, but determined togo
her one better) —"Yes, andther's —er —
Monongahela. 'Here let us drink!' A
pause follows.— New York Ilernld.
Delicately put.—"Glndys, I oiler you
my hand and my heart. I " "Thank
you very much, Mr. Hiekelberry. If I
thought your heart was as largo as your
hand I might accept, but Well, you
know I was always a skeptic." (Engage
ment not announced.) — Mrinsey's Weekly.
Hot si Clerk (suspiciously) "Your
bundle has come apart. May I ask what
that queer thing is?" Guest —"This is
a new patent fire escape. I always carry
it, so in case of fire I can let myself down
from the hotel window. See?" Clerk
(thoughtfully)—"l sec. Our torms for
guests with fire escapes, sir, are invari
ably cash in advance."— New York Weekly.
On Pike's Peak.
The officer in charge of the United
States Signal Service Station on the top
of Pike's Peak passes his days in a low,
flat building made of stone, and anchored
and bolted to the granite boulders. Dur
ing the winter he has no connection what
ever with the rest of the world. No hu
man being can ascend to his station, and
it is almost impossible for him togo down.
Lee Meriwether, who ascended the snow
covered mountain one July day, says the
signal officer's face wears that careworn,
depressed expression which comes from
unbroken solitude.
" You don't often see snow in July ?'
he said, after I had thawed out before a
blazing fire.
"Not often. You don't yourself, do
you ?"
'' Yes, two or three times a week.
Snow is my only water supply. That
boiler there," pointing to the stove, "is
full of melting snow. Even in the heat
of summer there is always enough snow
at my door to furnish all the water need
ed."
'' Does not life become weary and des
olate here, so far from the world 112 "
"So much so, that I sometimes fear it
will drive me crazy. My official duties
are light; they require only an occasional
inspection of the instruments. The rest
of the time I have nothing to do but to
read. Too much reading becomes weari
some. Sometimes I stand at the window
with my telescope. The wind without is
keen and cutting as a knife.
" I can sec the houses of Colorado
Springs," he continued, " twenty miles
away; see the visitors sitting in their shirt
sleeves, sipping iced drinks to keep cool,
and the ladies walking about in white
summer robes. Then I lower the glass;
the summer scene is gone. Green trees
and animal life, men and women, fade,
j away like creatures in a dream, and I am
I the only living thing in a world of eter
' nal ice and snow and silence.