SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W, M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VII. DROUGHT. Prom weekto week thorn came no rain, The very birds took flight. The river shrank within its bed, The borders of the world grow red With woods that flamed by nighfc No rest beneath the fearful sun. No shelter brought the moon; liean cattle on the reeded fen Searched every hole for drink, anif met Dropped dead beneath the noon. And ever as each sun went down Beyond the reeling plain, the mocking sky uprist, Like phantoms from the burning west, Dim clouds that brought no rain. Each root and leaf and living thing Fell sicklier day by day, And X, that still must live and see Thaag»ny of plant and tree. Grew weary even as they. But oh, at last, the joy, the change; With sudden sigh and start I woke about the middle night. And thought that something strange and bright Had burst upon my heart. With surging of great winds, a lull And hush upon the plain, i A hollow murmer far aloof, And then a roar upon the roof, Down came the rushing rain. —.4. Lampman, in Srribner's. A Startling Experience. BY 1.11.Y TYNEB. .Tosic McClure was always plucky. Every one said so, and what every one says is pretty apt to have some truth in it. She was plucky from the hour of ber birth, when, a poor, puny, post humous little creature, she was sent into the world to assuage the sorrow of a half heart-broken widow-mother—a delicate creature whose near friends were few and whose resources were slender. Josie grew up the delight of her mother's heart. A quick-witted little red-haired termagant, some were pleased to term her, but these were, as a rule, such of her schoolmates as had cause to fear her just wrath for misdoings of their own. Big boys who tormented their smaller brethren and girls who stooped to petty meannesses were .Tosie's special 1 detestation. But Josie's school life could not last as long as that of most girls. It came upon her all at once one day that she had a mission in the world, namely, to assist in providing for herself and her mother. I shall always believe that I first put the notion in her head ofbecoiu- ' ing a telegraph operator. She used to come up to the depot of that sleepy vil lage nearly every day on her way home from school and watch me at my work. I was station-master, train-dispatcher and : general operator all in one. "I don't think I could ever learn to send a message,"she said one day, as she ( stood watching me. "Oh, yes, you could," I answered. | "In fact, I think you'd soon become an j expert." She looked up sharply with her bright, red-hazel eyes. "What makes you think so?" "Your quick nature and good sense," I said. "I don't believe you'd ever lose your head." "No; I am pretty cool. Remember when Crittenden's horse ran away with I Grace and me? I made Grace drop out over the rear of the wagon. Neither of us was scratched. I was just as cool that | moment as I am now. Grace was scream ing murder." "If you had a position like mine," I laughed, "there wouldn't be much to 1 scare you. It's all 1 can do to keep awake—some days." "I'd rather go farther West," said j Josie. Briefly it happened to suit her. She took a few lessons of me. I gave ] her something of a start. Then she went' to the city and took a regular course of instruction. The next I knew she had : been assigned to a station five hundred miles further toward the setting sun. i Her mother and herself removed at once from our midst and Josie was lost to me, j save for a sparkling little epistle I used I to receive every week or ten days detail- ! ing her various experiences. I'm sure I don't know how I should have gotten on without her letters,l missed her so at first. It turned fright- i fully dull and sleepy at my station, but I | managed to keep awake and attend to things as they deserved. Several months passed. Winter slipped away and spring ! moved along slowly. Josie's letters came regularly to gladden my heart. "Haven't much excitement out here," | she wrote. "No Indians and only an occasional train robbery. No smash-ups, ; no collisions, nothing lively. Not many j messages. Sometimes I think I'll call 7<mi up and chat a little; then the round- | about way puts me cut of the humor. 'Take a vacation and visit us soon. • Mother will be so glad to see you. She's £ crazy about her chickens; raising an enor ; mous number. And such luck! They're ! always falling into the soft-soap keg or ; something else. Mother's health is just ; splendid. As for me, I've gained fifteen 4pounds," etc., eke. It was this that put the notion in my head. I obtained a substitute and took ' my vacation in early June. The evening of the next day I alighted j from the way train at the town where i Josie and her mother lived—at the sta tion where Josie herself was a fixture. 1 A trim little figure came running • toward me. It was she. She had on a i plain gingham dress and a jaunty cap ; 'was pushed back from the auburn hair ■ curling on her forehead. She gave me a good hearty handshaking and ordered me into the station. "Gracious!" said I; "not much more than a shed. Do you have it all to your self?" "Pretty often. There's a man around sometimes, but he's a lazy sort of a crea ture and, to tell the truth, I haven't much | confidence in him. I've got my eye on j him pretty close, lie went ofl this after : noon with a queer-looking character, | some stranger friend of his. Where they went to is a mystery; might have been fishing, though folks don't fish at mid- j ! day. Now," she went on, changing her subject with her old vivacity, "it's just about half an hour till supper time. I'll give you full directions how togo and ! you start at once. Walk fast and you'll j be iu time. And won't mother be pleased, I though! You see, I've got my supper I here in a tin pail. I've got to stay and see the express go by all right— -1 interrupted her with the wish that j she would allow me to remain with her. { ] But she shook her head. "No, T haven't enough supper for two and mother's all alone. You can come back after me if you like, though I don't mind the walk alone. Haven't the slight est idea how it feels to be afraid. Start right along now; it's a good mile." She gave me the directions and I set out, rather reluctantly, it must be con fessed. The station stood somewhat above the village, the railroad wound past on an embankment, crossing a river gulley on a high bridge a short distance to the west. I followed Josie's directions; went down through the village and up the road leading to her home. Mrs. McClure gave me a delightful welcome and a sup per beyond description. We had a pleas ant talk of old times and new. She spoke of Josie's goodness and filial affection un til tears came into her eyes and my own as well. Then I rose to return to the station. I shall never know precisely what | thought it was came into my mind and ! caused me to hasten my footsteps. Time : had flown. It was 8 o'clock and after, j and growing quite dark. The sky had ] clouded over, as if a storm were impend ing, and the quiet of the village was un earthly. I hurried on; I almost ran, and finally reached the station. But what was my surprise to find .Tosie was not there. She had not gone home, for her tin pail stood upon the table and a handkerchief lay on the floor beneath. I glanced in the pail. Her supper was yet untouched. The place was growing dark and no lamp lighted. Suddenly, "click, click," from the table. I listened and knew that some one was calling up this station. "T. W.," "T. W." I knew that .Tosie was "T. W." Whoever it was calling per sisted so that I grew uneasy. Where could the girl have gone? At length, as she did not come, I answered the call. "Well, what is it?" "About the ex press," the answer came. "There is no mistake?" I hesitated. What should I say? "Repeat instructions. 'T. W.' is out for the moment.'' I knew only that the express would come from the west, and this was a man talking at a station fifty or sixty miles to the east. He an swered after a moment: "Matter of life or death. Express will leave A in ten minutes. Should switch at P (Josio's station) and wait for special from east to pass. Other train blocked with freight. For God's sake, fix it right. No direct wire from here to A ." A cold chill ran over me. Where was ■Tosie? How could 1 call tip the other station? I made an attempt but got no answer. I waited a little, but no Josie. It was growing darker. I rushed out on the platform and looked up and down. There was a small shed across the track. Iran over and wren-hed open the door, but could see nothing for the darkness. "Josie," I called despairingly. Hark! LA PORTE, PA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1889. I What sound was that, faint and fa \ miliar, click, click-click. "I listened j without breathing. "I am here," it | said. "Bound and gagged; tied down se I can't get my hands free or stir. Un loose me quickly." I groped my way into the shed, stum bled over piles of wood and came to ! something warm and human. It was a moment's work to release her. "Great God?" I cried, "who did this?" She caught her breath with a gasp. "Back to the station," she cried, "don't waste a second.' - We ran togeth er. She caught the key and called up the office Iliad spoken with. "Villainy," she telegraphed. "Wire to A cut. Station man here in plot. Call up A by D and G " "Too late,"the answer came back. "Express has left A by this. Flag it!" Josie turned and looked nt me for an instant almost despairingly. "What shall I do? The special has left there. The express has started. ! They will meet on the same track. The i scoundrels came on me just as I had | taken a note of the special, so I should make no mistake." "We must flag the express!" I cried. "We must flag both," she said. "This may not be all that has been done." While speaking she hail turned to light the lamp and I could see how pale she was. "A lantern," I said then. Shehastened to a box in the corner and took it out. We trimmed and lighted it. "This is only one," she said. "We need two. Take this and go down the track—you know, to the west. Stop the express and tell them—that is all. 1 will run to the nearest house, get another lantern and go the other way." I shuddered. "Suppose those men come upon you? No, you shall not go alone. I will go " "Hush!" she said. "Goquickly. The express is most here." And I obeyed. And as Iran I trembled at the thought of her peril. I trembled so that the lantern shook, but Iran on. JOSIE ENDS THE STORY. This was as far as Sam could write, j poor boy. He always shudders when lie ! speaks of that night. But it was nothing j after all so terrible. I got the other I lantern in great haste, not from any neigh- 1 bor, for there was no time, but out from | behind the box in the corner. Luckily I I remembered in time. Then 1 ran— ! fast as I could, but feeling pretty shaky as I crossed the bridge on the trestles and heard the water far below. Sam turns pale when I mention the bridge. On and on 1 ran in the darkness with my little lantern swinging until I heard a low humming of the rails begin and saw a distant light grow bright. "Heaven give me strength," I prayed, and stood there waving my lantern wildly. The light came nearer. I kept on swinging my lantern. I stepped from the track, but kept on signaling. Thank heaven the light came more slowly, the special was stopping gradually—when at my ear I heard voices of suppressed rage. With a terrible oath some one seized me and flung me with furious force upon the ground. Then I knew no more. But. it was all right: the special picked me up and came along slowly with men out ahead. And Sam, dear boy, had met the ex press, so all was well. The people on the special made me a nice little present, though I'm sure I didn't want them to. Indeed, they made a great fuss over me. I had run so far I suppose they knew it must have been exhausting. The scamps who laid the plot made off, but after ward were caught. And Ham—Oh, well—Sam is my hus band now.— Netn York Mercury. A New Way to Catch Cod. An interesting innovation in the method of catching cod has just been made by the French fishermen, coasting off New foundland. They catch large periwinkles, remove their shells, and use the creatures for bait. The cod, it is said, have bitten eagerly at. the new bait, and the owners of the French vessels have caught fish so fast that they were able to sail for France in the first week of July, instead of Oc tober, as usual. In England the whelk has long been used for the same purpose Soehetter Democrat- Chronicle. The total production of pig iron and steel, in tons, in England during 1888 was 11,304,170. The l.'nited States pro auced 9,387,178 tons. THE EASTERN POPE. AN AUDIENCE WITH THE PATRI ARCH OP JERUSALEM. A Court of Glory Outshining the Pomp of KiiißK —The I'atri areh's Appearance—Si range Court Formullt ics. I have just had an audience with one of the highest religious functionaries of the Oriential world, says Frank Carpen ter in a letter from Jerusalem. The Pa triarch of Jerusalem has charge of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and as the head of the Greek Church in Syria, Palestine and Arabia he is to his people the Pope of the East. The reek Church contains about fi2,000,000 members in Russia—a number equal to the popula tion of the United States. It has about 5,000,000 in Greece and Turkey, and it is in Jerusalem the most powerful and the richest church of all the denomina tions represented there. There is no King in the world who appears in such splendor upon state occasions as the Patriarch of Jerusalem. He wears cloth of gold, and his great hat is covered with magnificent diamonds, emeralds and rubies. I lis bishops who march with him have crosses of diamonds hanging to their necks, and their dresses are of gold and silver brocade, and the mitre and other church implements are of solid gold and silver. In the treasury of the Greek Church here there are jewels which would make the treasury of many a pal ace commonplace, and the rich men and the Kings of the world have for genera tions been giving to this collection, think ing that in so doing they have been buy ing their way into heaven. The Patriarch of Jerusalem lives in one of the biggest and best mansions of the Holy City. The American Consul and myself ingoing to it wound in and out through narrow vaulted streets. We passed through arcades, and with the aid of the consular eavttsses pushed our way through the dense crowds of pilgrims, Bedouins and Syrians, which are filling the Holy City during this holy week. We weut of course in Oriental state, j dressed in our black morning coats, and J preceded by the cavasses. The ca vasses are the guard of the Consul on state occasions. At the Patriarch's mansion, which in ] deed is only a big, plain, stone house of I two stories, we were met by several priests in long black gowns, which fell in j full folds from tlicir necks to their feet, and in tall, round, blackcaps, with capes falling down upon their backs. These put their hands to their foreheads as we entered and motioned us to come in. We then ascended a wide stairway at the sides, on which were brass railings, and at the top of which stood more priests similarly attired. Here we were taken into a great hall where the portraits of the Patriarchs of the past looked down upon us out of gold frames, and then on into a second grand salon in which were u number of Turkish soldiers and church dignitaries, and at the back of which in a chair of state sat the Patriarch himself. He rose as he saw us and moved toward us. Tall, broad-shouldered and well formed, he is one of the finest-looking public men 1 have ever seen. He has a magnificent head, well set on a pair of broad shoulders; large, in tellectual eyes, a big, straight nose and a long, patriarchal beard of sable silver. His high forehead was bordered with a black cap of fine cloth, which rose for full six inches above it, aud from the back of which fell a cape of the same color, forming a striking background to his strong, intelligent face. He wore a long, full gown of some fine sack cloth, and he had two gorgeous gold medals about his neck, each as big as the palm of your hand, and between these hnng a cross of diamonds. He met us in the middle of the salon, shook hands with us aud conducted us to a divan at the right of his chair of state. We then chatted through the interpreter, the Le gation addressing him, according to etiquette, as "Your Blessedness." There was then some talk about the Greek Church as to its extent and doe tines, and while this was going on a liveried servant brought in a silver tray containing a golden bowl rilled with sil ver spoons, several glasses of water, anil two cut-glass dishes, one of which con tained a brown mixture aud the other was filled with preserved oranges cut in small slices and floating in a molasses- j like syrup. Luckily the tray was first passed to the Consul, and I followed suit in partaking of its delicacies. Liftiug one of the silver spoons out of the gold holder, I dipped it into the orange pre- I Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months. serves, conveyed some to my mouth and then dropping the spoon into another dish reserved for it, took a sip of the water. The preserves were delicious and the water was good. Then there was a little more talk about the Greek Church and a second servant came in with another tray more gorgeous than the one preceding. Upon this were wine glasses filled with a liquor the color of the dark moss rose. It was flavored with peppermint and it had the rich, oily strength of age. Though scarcely more than threo thimbles full, it brought a pleasing warmth to the whole frame fivo minutes after it was drank and the doctrines of the Greek Church fell on my ear like the poetry of Moore. This I liquor was followed a few moments later by a third waiter who brought in Turkish coffee, served in little cups of fine china, each the size of the smallest egg cup. The coffee was as thick as Vermotji molasses. It was sweet and delicious aid was served without cream. Coffee in Jerusalem is the same as champagne in China. After the coffee is served the caller can politely terminate | his visit. We sipped the aromatic liquid I and then telling the patriarch that we | doubted not that he was fatigued with j his labors of Holy Week, we arose to say | good-bye. Before we did so the Turkish Generals bade their adieus and to each of these he handed an Easter egg from a basket which sat on a table beside h ; s chair. The Turks grasped his hand be fore he could let goof the egg and bend ing low, imprinted a kiss on his fist. They then, with many crossings and salaamings, bowed themselves out. We said good-bye in American style, shaking hands with "His Blessedness" and re ceiving from him a present of a Bethle hem egg.— New York World. A Dog as Doorkeeper. An Austrian banker went to Vienna on business. lie arrived in the evening, traveling with a large, handsome dog. The two put up at a hotel, and next morning the gentleman went out, bidding care should be taken that his dog did not stray from the house. The chambermaid i went to make up the banker's room. | Bruno was very pleased to see her, I wagged his huge tail, licked her hand, i and made friends thoroughly, until, her business being done, she was about to leave. Not so. Bruno calmly stretched himself full length before the door, lie explained, as perfectly as possible, that I"he knew his duty." No one should leave his master's room in his absence. When the girl tried to pull the door open sufficiently for her to slip out he growled, showed his teeth, and finally tried them on her legs. The woman's screams brought another maid, and yet another, and then in succession all the waiters. Bruno was glad to let tham all in, but he allowed uo one out. The room became pretty well crowded and every bell in the house meantime rang, while the walls echoed cries of "Waiter! waiter!" Finally, the lady who kept the hotel appeared and pushed her way irately into the room, asking angrily as she walked in what sort of a picnic they were all holding here. Bruno let her in, too, but not out again—oh, no! When the lady's husband appeared she called to him loudly for heaven's sake to keep outside, to send messengers scouring the city for the banker, and, meantime, tr endeavor to pacify the angry customers downstairs. That Austrian banker was a welcome man when he arrived.—< \ll Mall Gazette. Alpine Funerals. A clue to the origin of the Irish wake anil other funeral pomposities, may be found in the funeral customs of some of the Alpine regions. The circle of ac quaintance of the more prosperous peo ple of the villages often extends over miles of country; and the friends of a deceased propricto* vi 11 make long jour neys to attend his jneral. The dictates of hospitality require that their physical wants be provided for, or, if not, they will meet at the inn and naturally have something very like a feast. In some districts, even before death occurs and the patient is in his last agonies, all around are informed of the fact, and ex pected to make a ceremonial last visit. They enter the sick room, take a long look at the dying mau and go their ways. After death, when the body has been prepared for burial, a table is spread covered with refreshments, and open house is held till the funeral,— yew YorP St nr. The Dowager Empress Frederick ol O'rmany enjoys an income from all sources of about 8360,000 a year. NO. 52. FUN. Hens fire kept busy finding the means for moving their crops.— Texas Siftivgs. Ilay fever will make the most unassum ing man blow his own horn.— Terra Haute Express. A man who owns a goat has only to earn his bread; he has his butter for nothing.— Rochester Post. Mr. Edison is going to visit Krupp's worke at Essen. He expects to meet therv some of the biggest guns in Europe.— Boston Herald. "What are you laughing at?" "I was thinking of how father's hand must have burned after he boxed my ears to-day." —Fliegcnde lilaetter. Bride—"George, dear, when we rearh town let us try to avoid leaving the im pression that we are married." "All right, Maude; you can lug this valise." —Nebraska Journal. Mr. Clubman—"My private secretary, young Nieefellow, says he is an acquaint ance of yours." Miss Citybellc—"What impudence! I never met him except at the seaside, and last summer I even re fused to become engaged to him again." —New York Weekly. Modest.—"Doctor, will you let me know how much I owe you?" "Oh, my good woman, I know you are not in easy circumstances, I will not charge you any thing for my trouble." "Yes, that is all very well, but who is to pay the apothe cai„'?" — Fliegende Blaetter. "Father," said the "boy, "I am going to leave the farm. I've been rather reckless, and I've decided togo out and see what I can do for myself." "All right, Sonny," responded the aged-sire. "Good-bye; and I'll state I'll be ready to kill a veal about next spring."— Washing ton Capital. Unearthing Ancient Skeletons. A most remarkable story reached Den ver from Aspen, Col., regarding an un expected find in one of the principal mines on the Aspen Mountain. On a recent Thursday night the night shift in the Minnie mine, Messrs. Donnelly, I Mackey, Taylor and Gilfillan, putin two l thirty-inch holes in the breast of the ! -tOO-foot level, and tired the blast just before leiiving for the surface. On re turning to the mine it was found that the two shots had broken into a cave, t which they explored. Going in a few feet they found the walls covered with crystalized lime and lead that glittered like diamonds. Here and there little stalactites hung from the ceiling. The lime formation resembled lace and frieze work of wondrous beauty. The cave had a descent of about twenty degrees, and they found rooms and chambers grand beyond description. They had entered about 200 feet when they found a flint axe. A little further was a pool of fresh water, and a strong current of fresh air was felt. Further on a chamber was discovered covered with a brownish muck that was sticky. Gil fillan, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped and said: "There sits a boy." Sure enough there sat a human form. The head was resting on the knees, and the arms were drawn around the legs, Indian fashion. A stone bowl and axe were found beside the figure. The body was well preserved, but in trying to lift it one arm broke off. Other bodies in different attitudes were found in the chamber, but when disturbed they crum bled. One body was brought out with the loss of arms and feet.— New York Sun. Pampering Condemned Men. Where the custom of pampering thfc unfortunate wretches for a few days be fore their execution originated has often been discussed. The history of the re ligious customs of the Aztec Indians be fore the conquest of Mexico shows that when a victim was to be led to the sacri ficial stone to be deprived of his life as a sacrifice to the gods, he was for soma time before his death treated in royal style. When they selected the subject lor the sacrifice they bedecked him in the richest manner, and showed him every attentiou up to the lost minute be fore the bloody sacrifice. An old ex- Sheriff once gave it as his opinion that the custom of the Aztecs might have something to do with the practice of feasting condemned murderers. The general understanding is that it owes its origin to the demand of humanity to make the last hours of a person in this world as comfortable and cheerful as possible.— Graphic. Queen Victoria has accumulated a for tune of $20,000,000.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers