SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VIII. LIFE'S AFTERNOON. Dear heart, then lay your hand in mine, We'll travel home together, "We've pledged our love in life's rare wine, We've had some days almost divine. Some —clouds and stormy weather. When first we joined our eager feet We sang a sadder chorus, We scarce took time our hopes to greet We rushed our joys in haste to meet The world of care before us. But now. dear heart, you hand in mine, We'll trudge along together. We still have draughts of life's rare wine, And yetsome days almost divine, While we have left far, far behind The clouds and stormy weather. ROMANCE OF A STORE. A tiny room, behind a tiny shop. In one corner, near the fire-place, an elderly lady in a deep, cushioned chair—a lady whose face bore traces of pain conquered, suffering overcome, patient, delicate and refined. Her dress and attitude told the story of invalidism. Opposite to her, standing up and leaning upon the it; itel-piece, a girl of twenty-one or ; tall, straight and strong, with a .ace of some beauty, great resolution, and sweet, womanly grace. Rhoda Lewis was the younger lady, and her mother the gentle invalid. "Where are you going, dear? The slieu-bell did not ring," Mrs. Lewis said as Rhoda moved toward the door. "To put up the shutters. It is nine o'clock." "They are so heavy," the invalid •sighed. "But I am so strong," the girl an swered, lightly. Yet, as she lifted the heavy shutter in her small, white hands, she was not sorry to have it taken from her into a strong, masculine grasp, that quickly adjusted the shutters, put up the iron bar, shot the padlock bolt into place, locked it, and gave the key to Rhoda. Not a word spoken all this time, but as her cousin, Frank Lewis, gave her the key, Rhoda ! said, dumurely and formally: "Thank you." Quite as formally, yet with a ring of sarcasm iu his voice, that had not been in hers, he replied: "You are very welcome." She stood twisting the key in her I fingers till he said : '•Well?" Hut if he intended the word lor a question, there was no answer. Rhoda let her hands fall, and looked straight before her. "Are you not going i to ask me in?" Frank inquired. "No." "Father has been here to-day?" "Yes." "Got his rent?" "Yes." "And told you to shut your door on j me?" "Yes." " 'Yes—yes." Can't you speak, Rhoda?" J "Not now. Some insults are very hard to bear; your father's was one of them." | She slipped iu at the store door as she j spoke, and fastened it quickly. She was j in total darkness, having closed the door j of the inner room as she left it. For a j moment she stood leaning heavily upon j the counter, trembling violently, with j the quick breathing that tells of sup pressed tears. Only for a moment; then she went into her mother, her sweet face all love and cheerfulness. "What ever her heartache was, it was evidently not to be added to her mother's burdens. Frank, left so unceremoniously, gave vent to his chagrin in a low whistle, thrust his hands deep into his overcoat pocket, 4nd strode homeward. It was a c heerless windy evening, and chilled, an gerttl and miserable, the young man •tossed aside hat and coat in the hall of his father's pretentious house,and entered the parlor. A grand room, richly fur nished, in sharp contrast to the shabby little back parlor where Frank had in tended to pass the next hour. Mr. Lewis was seated beside an open grate, reading the evening newspaper. 'He, did not look up as his sou drew up a chair near his own, aud said: "Father, what have you been saying to-day to Rhoda?" *>l gave her to understand that 1 did not want a penniless daughter-in-law." "Father!" "You may as well understand the same. ■1 will not encourage such nonsense any longer. You are old enough now to drop flirtations, and think seriously of mar riage." "I won't stand it," cried Frank, hotly. "Won't stand what?" ••Any interference between Rhoda and myself. I mean to wiu Khoda for my wife, imd 1 meant it whea she wore l<vic braids and short dresses; when she lived in a house as grand as this one." "All very well then. Matters are different now." "There is no difference in my love for Rhoda." "A pauper! The daughter of a bank rupt who committed sucide!" "Your brother!" "Well, what of that! He never asked me to help him, or—" was the harsh voice husky? Frank wondered—"l might have been idiot enough to do it!" "It was a pity he could not know that. Father!" in a softened tone, "don't stand between Khoda aud me! I won't give her up, but you make her hard to win. She is as proud to-day as she was when her carrage drove up to our door, and she brought you fruit from her hot-house. No, I am wrong! She was not proud, then, Heaven bless her! butshe is now!" "Beggars have no right to be proud! I won't have it! I)o you understand? If you persist in this foil) - , you may suit yourself to the situation, for your allow ance stops; stops, understand, the day yon propose to your cousin Khoda. You can find a home and an income else where, " '•I don't mind that threat, but I should j be very unhappy if I left you alone, j ftther." "Don't do it, then." "But it will make my life utterly j wretched to give up my cousin." "Bah! Goto bed. You're a head strong boy, and you have not tasted pov erty yet. Keep your heroics till you have." Frank Lewis knew that there were j some moods in which his father was ] utterly stubborn, and that to argue was j to take time for no result. So he ac- i cepted his dismissal, and went to his j own room. Thinking deeply, he came j to the resolution to try his power to con- ' quer fortune before seeing Rhoda again, i She knew he loved her, and if his love j was returned, would trust him; if she | cared for him only in a cousinly way, then the separation might help him to bear a later disappointment. He would not desert his father, but perhaps when he had proved himself no braggart, his father might relent. It was dreary enough in the weeks I that followed in the tiny parlor, behind the little, stationer's store where Rhoda J Lewis strove to keep the wolf from the I door. Brought up in utter ignorance of business, the young storekeeper had de pended unconsciously upon her cousin j Frank in all financial difficulties. Frank j had taught her how to keep her books, hail given her instructions about renew ing her stock iu trade, managed her banking business, had been her adviser and best friend from the day when she returned from her father's funeral, to know she must tie breadwinner for her self and her invalid mother. She hud never looked upon him as a lover, only as her very dear cousin, until her uncle rudely opened lier eyes and heart by in forming her of the penalty attached to his sou's courtship. Then love awakened to sting her sharply when pride forbade her cherishing the sweet intruder. Yet, while she suffered iu heart, there was a m.vgic of prosperity about the tiny store. Customers flocked to her, and she found sale for a better class of goods than she had ventured upon at first. She had some skill in water-color painting, no wonderful talent, but sufficient capacity for much of the pretty decorating, just at that time coming into fashion. For what she had leisure to accomplish in that line, she found quick sale at large profit. Her sorest grief was in her mother's | wasting health, and the certainty that a i ■ u>ng standing disease must terminate fa : tally, though the decline was very slow, j Heart and brain were sorely taxed, the 1 more that she had been so carefully i guarded from all care and sorrow during ' her father's life. Hut she was brave and ! faithful in the discharge of daily duty, | I trusting in God's care for her future, as I humbly as a child trusts its mother. Two years had passed since Frank ■ Lewis put up her shutters, when he wrote j to her from another city, telling her that jhe had a good position, was working | faithfully to make himself independent, | and asking her to be his wife if his iu i come ever filled his pockets sufficiently to | start a home. j "I tried to work in my old home, to be near ray father,'' he wrote, "but it was bet -1 ter for me to be away for a time." It was a strange, deep happiness that I met this letter, for Rhoda knew she loved her cousin as the one love of her life. She wrote back at once, franklv i and lovingly, and the correspondence be . drae her ray of sunshine in her sorrow LA IOKI L, PA., I 1 RII>A if, NOVEMBER, 8, 1889. for her mother and her daily toil fori bread. Still the months rolled into years,, Rhoda was left motherless, and the stern oid man in the grand home Frank had left grew more lonely and desolate as age crept on, till four years had passed, and Frank came for his bride. Before seeking her he went to his old home, .and unannounced, entered the room where his father sat musing idly, his hands resting on his lap, his eyes fixed upon the fire. He did not look up as Frank entered, thinking it was a ser vant who came in, and his sons heait | sank as he saw how old and worn he looked. Surely, four years ago lis hrir I was not so gray and thin, his face o deeply lined. Suddenly he roused hi- i C self, looked toward the door, and thi, j ' . . t opening his arms, cried, with ycarng tenderness: "Mv boy! Frank, my son!" It was long before he could do me ' than stroke his son's hands and hr, ' speaking fondest words of affection. "You will not leave me again, Frank'' 1 he nleaded. "Not. unless you forbid Rhoda toe ]' here, too." "So, so! You have not wavered, tko, in all these four years?" ' | "Have not my letters told you so much?" "Right! Yes, yes, you are eonstait. You thought me a hard father, Frank" "Only in that one thing. You hive : been a good father to me." "But not a kind oue? I see whee I made a mistake. But I meant only knil ness, Frank; only kindness. 1 majriud when 1 was young—like yourself, the son of a rich father. My wife was a o\it terfly of fashion. I was an earnest mm, striving to do life's duties faithfully. I was utterly miserable in my married life, and wherever 1 looked 1 see how moLcy and its possession crushed out real lore. When you first loved Rhoda you wire mere children, but even then I hoped it was transeient fancy. Then came my brother's misfortunes, and Rhoda's op portunity to prove herself a strong, true, woman, or a feeble nursling of luxury. You, too, were drifting Into the Idle W lies ot a man without a purpose in ife. I resolved to test you both, to prove tour love and manhood, as I was proving Khoda's courage. "Well, well, my dear boy, you vere not quite so independent, after all, as you fancied. My letters procured you the favorable reception you met with at Morse &. Co.'s, and half your Hilary came out of my pocket. I have watched your cousin's interests, too. She would be surprised if she knew how large a customer I have been, by proxy, and how carefully I have respected her hon est pride while putting money in her till. It is all over. lam an old man, Hhoda is alone, so you must come tome. Shall we go now ami see Rhoda?" They had turned the corner of the street where the little store was located, when Frank, gently pushing his father back, whispered: "Wait one moment." Hhoda was standing in the doorway, and her errand-boy was putting up the shutters, when they were taken from his liauds. "You can go," Frank said, deftly taking his work and gravely attending to it until he gave the key to Rhoda. "Thanks," she said, having had time to gain composure after the first shock of surprise. "May I come in?" "And may I come, too?" said a third voice. "Uncle William!" "Yes, ray dear. Come Frank." Then the store door closed behind the three, and customers were fastened out; while the old story ends, and a new life opens for my hero and heroine.—Neic York ledger. Kev. George Washington, who style? himself "eldest representative of the Durham branch in England," writes to a London journal, urging English collec tors of documents illustrating the careci of General Washington to organize them selves into associations to preserve the papers collected, and meet from time tc time to compare experiences and ex change views. Claus Spreckles's big sugar plantatior in the Sandwich Islands is on the Islam, of Maui. It. comprises 2700 acres, anc produces about 9000 tons of sugar eact year. The extreme length of the city of Chi eago is twenty-four miles, its cxtrerm width is ten miles, its aria is 174J squan | miles, and its estimated imputation ii 1,100.000. ! BRAIN SURGERY. I OP ITS EXTRAORDINARY , j ; ACHIEVEMENTS. the Brain anil Removing Tumors Wounds of the Brain No lionger Nec essarily Fatal. i an article in Harper's, on "Recent Fr|ress in Surgery,"Dr. W.W. Keen says: J" fe Lancet for December 20th, 1884, | Bennett, and Mr. Goodlee published ,rticle which startled the surgical j v orld. Dr. Bennett had diagnosticated j lot oul >' the existence, but the }„ jCaUty „112 „ t,imor in the brain, of whicn not the least visible evidence existed on ; the exterior of the skull, and asked Air. Goodlee to attempt its removal. The | head was opened an.l the brain exposed. No tumor was seen, but so certain were they of the diagnosis that Mr. Goodlee boldly cut open the healthy brain and discovered a tumor the size of a walnut and removed it. After doing well for ■ three weeks inllamation set in, and the ! patient died on the twenty-sixth day. ! But, like the failure of the first Atlantic j cable, it pointed the way to success, and I now there have been twenty tumors removed from the brain, of which seven teen have been removed from the cere brum, with eleven recoveries, and three I from the more dangerous region of the cerebellum, all of which proved fatal. Until this recent innovation every case of tumor of the brain was absolutely hope less. The size of the tumor successfully removed has added to the astonishment with which surgeons view the fact of their ability to remove them at all. ! Tumors measuring as much as three and four inches iu diameter, and weighing from a quarter to over a third of a pound, have been removed aud the pa tients have recovered. Another disease formerly almost inva riably fatal is abscess ot the brain. In the majority of cases this comes as a re sult of long-siauding disease of the car, which, after awhile, involves the bone and finally the brain. So long ago as 1579 Mr. Macewen. of Glasgow, diag nosticated an abscess in the braiu, and wished to operate upon it. The parents declined the operation, and the patient died. After death Macewen operated precisely as he would have done during life, found the abscess and evacuated the pus, thus showing how he could probably have saved the child's life. Since then the cases treated m such a manner amouir . to scores, and more than half of them ! -e recovered without a bad symp tom. In inju> xof the skull involving the brain the 1. arteries are sometimes wounded, and the blood that is poured out between the skull and the brain pro duces such pressure as to be speedily fa tal. In some cases, even without any wound, the larger arteries are ruptured by a blow or a fall, and a similar result follows the hemorrhage. Nowadays, in both of these injuries,any well-instructed surgeon will open the head, secure the bleeding vessel, and turn out the clot, with a good chance of recovery in a large number of cases. Even gunshot wounds of the brain are no longer necessarily fa tal. Among a number of other success ful cases one has been recently reported in which the ball went all the way from the forehead to the back of the head,and after striking the bone, rebounded into the brain. The back of the skull was opened, the ball removed, and a rubber drainage tube of the calibre of a leadpen cil passed in the traok of the ball com pletely through the head, and the patient recovered. So little danger now attaches to opening the skull, with antiseptic pre cautions similar to those already de scribed, that the latest writer on trephin ing (Seydel) estimates that the trephining per se is fatal only in 1.6 per cent, of the cases. Mr. Horsley has recently pub lished a most remarkable paper, includ ing tern operations on the brain,in which, without anything on the exterior to indi cate its situation, the site of the disease was correctly located in all, and nine of them recovered after operation. Almost equally astonishing are the results of brain surgery in certain cases of epilepsy; for the surgical treatment of the cases justifying such interference has been attended with the most brilliant re sults. In these cases the spasm begins in a particular part of the body, for example, the hand or the thumb, or it is limited to one arm, or to one side of the body. Some of them have been operated upon without any benefit, but a large number of other cares have been operated on and either benefited or. in uot a Jew cases, have been completely restored to health. Terms— sl.2s in Advance: $1.60 after Three Months. That the words "brilliant results" are not j inappropriate will certainly be granted j when we look at Mr. Horsley's tablj of i cases. One patient had 2870 epileptic convulsions in thirteen days, and com j pletely recovered, not only from the I operation but aiso from his terrible mal ady, after the removal of a diseased por tion of the brain, the result of an old de pressed fracture of the skull. Beside I this, a few cases of headache so inveter ate as to make ordinary occupations im possible, and life itself a burden, have been cured by trephining the skull. Even insanity itself has been cured by such an operation in cases in which it has followed result of these recently inaugurated oper ations will be it is impossible to tell as yet, but thus far they have been so bene ficeut and so wonderful as to arouse not only our greatest astonishment, but also our most sanguine hopes. Destructive Force in Warfare. A French officer, in speaking of melin ite to a representative of the Times, said : "Our shells for field artillery, as well as those for our forts and siege guns, are j charged with melinite. What melinite | is we do no not know, and if we knew 1 we should be very careful not to tell." I Both the Italians and the Germans have I sent spies to discover the secret, and to ! offer money for even the smallest frag ment, but they have all been captured, j All that can be said is that, according : to a treatise published in 1882, melinite jis composed of melted picric acid. But J in the interval our artilleries have per | feeted the discovery of M. Turpin. They i have made melinite a tractable product. | The effects of this explosive were fully de ! monstrated in some experiments at the Fort !of Malmaiaon in 1886. Melinite is so j safe that in three years only one accident ■ has occurred, that at the arscnel of Bel fort. One the other hand a hundred ac- ! cidents have occurred from gelatine i alone in thirty years. There has never been accident in draw - | ing the charges, nor one from bursting in the gun. As much cannot be said j for roburite, liellofite, or the other sub- I stances employed by foreign States. 1 What, it is asked, will become of a forti j cation in face of this redoubtable agent? ! Some think and say they are doomed; j others, like General Brialmont, recom mend the use of armored circular forts. ; It is said that the shell will glance off ! these without doing any damage. But experiments at C'halons have shown that | turrets enjoy no immunity against a j close and continuous fire. Best Way to Copy Drawings. A new method of copying drawings i which may be found of service in archi ■ tects offices is given in the Deutche* I Baumyewerbt* Bhitt. Any kind of opaque J drawing paper in ordinary use may be j employed for this purpose, stretched in ; the usual way over the drawing to be | copied or traced. Then by the aid of a ; cotton pad the paper is soaked with beti | zine. The pad causes the benzine to en j ter the pores of the paper, rendering the paper more transparent than the finest tracing paper. The most delicate tints show through the paper so treated, and may be copied with the greatest ease, for pencil, India ink or water colors take equally well on the benzinized surface. The paper is neither creased nor torn, re maining whole and supple. Indeed pen cil marks and water color tintings last I better upon paper treated iu this way | than on any other ldnd of tracing paper, ' the former being rather difficult to re move by rubber. When large drawings are to be dealt with the benzine treat ment is only applied to parts at a time, i thus keeping pace with the rapidity of advancement with the work. When the | copy is completed the benzine rapidly ! evaporates and the paper assumes its orig inal white and opaque appearance with out betraying the faintest trace of the benzine. If it is desired to fix lead pen cil marks on ordinary drawing or tracing paper, this may be done by wetting it with milk and drying in the air. A Rather Old Story. Cowardice often parades behind the mask of courage. A fellow, hearing the drums beat up for volunteers for France in the expedition against the Dutch, imagined himself valiant enough, and thereupon enlisted himself. Returning 1 again, he was asked by his friends what exploits he. had done there. lie said ! that "lie cut off one of the enemy's legs." Being told that it had been more honor able and manly to have cut off his head, "Oh!" -aid he. -but you must know his head wis cut off before." NO. 5. FUN. The horse-car driver is a non-conduc tor. I .Making love by telegragh is described as an electric spark. Why hasn t the debt of nature been paid, she's got the rocks? The lady says "please" to her servants, and sometimes to her husband if there's anybody around. He is a mean man who, on meeting an acquaintance who is afflicted with the ague, says, "Shake." A man may not be afraid of daneer 1...4 l.„ J . > ® ' It is the man who takes but one tfip a year who passes down the main street of a town with the largest valise in his hand. "Can women be carpenters?" is dis cussed in The Women's Journal. We do not know, but they can undoubtely be joiners. Young men should not depend upon the Government alone for fat places. There may be openings for them in u tallow factory. First Doctor—"l hear you treated my neighbor for typhus fever. Was it a bad case?" Second Ditto—"Very bad; the man never paid his bill." Said the flax-haired maiden to the dapper young man behind the counter: "Have you any nice, soft muslin that will suit my complexion and hair?" Clerk— i "Bleached or unbleached?'" It is a pity that people <lo not know who invented the month organ. Many modern sufferers would like to erect a high monument over the man's grave, so as to be sure to keep him down. The honeymoon Is that part ol' married life when the bride spends her time in trying to find out what her husband likes to eat, and he spends his time in trying to eat it after she has cooked it.— Atchison Glob.-. A Noted Female Pirate Dead. The notorious character known as '■Spanish Belle," who has flourished on the Pacific coast since 1849, has just died in Idaho. There is scarcely a min ing camji on the Pacific coast that she has not visited. Her history, if correctly told, would fill a large volume; and it would be a volume of bad deeds only, for no good deeds have ever bt,°n attri buted to her in the knowledge of those few who have known her history for the past forty years. It seems that she gloried in the crimes she committed, and during her convivial moments would re late some incidents of her past life. From this source it is gathered that an early age in her native land she became allied with a noted sea pirate named Valzaj, whose vessel was a terror to the merchant ships plying the waters of the Pacific Ocean. She boasted that, her duty was when the ship anchored at a port of prominence, to decoy rich men aboard the vessel, where they would surely be robbed and murdeFed. She followed this crimi nal career until the discovery of gold in California, when she left her pirate partner and landed in Snn Francisco in the sum mer of 1849. At the time of her death she was eighty-live years old, although she could pass for a woman twenty-five years younger. An Intelligent Pupil. A railroad conductor •wanting to teach a new brakeman his duties told him to goto the other end of the: ear and when he, the conductor, called out the names of the stations along the route that he should say the same at that end of the car. When they came to the tirst station the conductor called out "Ma-wash-in-e --ta!" which is a small town between In dianapolis and Elkhart, Ind., and the brakeman yelled out with all the might his lungs would permit him: "The same at this end!"— Chicago Herald. Unique Pay for Writers. Maurice Thompson, in an article en titled "Adventures with Editors,'' pub lished in Americtt, gives three instances of authors who were satisfied with their JIHJ'. lie says an "editor told iue of a |)oet who sent him some verses, and di rected him to invest the value thereof in fiddle strings and forward them by mail. I know of a writer who was glad to trade a story for a meerschaum pipe Another took a guitar in barter, andstil* another swapped poetry for a lottery ticket and actually drew a prize of £7000." Mr. Gladstone says that he brought his children u|> without constraint. "They have *v»vcr been governed at any jitriod of theft lives by force-
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