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-