SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W, M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VIII. SUNSET. Slowly on all attainment or defeat The day dies out far in the darkening west: Leaving the earth, its golden stage complete, To muse an hour away, then sink to rest; Dark earth—the heavens yet touched with sunset glow; Brightness above, and hushed, submissive calm below. Hushed is the world of toil. In every place A wealth of healing silentness doth lie, Or sounds more still than silence fill the space Beneath that far infinity of sky; And softly shines the evening star on one Whose day lies spent, a chronicle of things undone. Even regret, in this calm air and mild, Bears little of it.-s wonted anguish deep: Ono long drawn breath of sorrow, as the child Preludes a sad, sweet sinking into sleep. Then peace. Night registers defeat again; But what was I, that I should struggle and j attain? ' —Mary Colboiiic-Veel, in the Atlantic. All's Well That Ends Well. BY HELEN FOItIiEBT CHAVES. "Old folks will be old folks," said Myra Manton, "and the best plau is to let 'em have their own way." "Oh, ves, I know," said Leona, clasp ing her hands. "But that old Leghorn hat, with the crown like a stove-pipe and j the front like a wash-hands basin! Who j could tolerate that? And everybody | laughs when she comes into church." "Let 'em laugh," shrewdly remarked Myra. "I'd be willing folks should laugh at me if 1 was worth thirty thousand dollars and owned the Bliven Mills into the bargain."' . Myra Manton was "hired help" at the I , Bliven Farm—a stout New Englander of ! , fifty summers, with hair cut short, no I , visible waist, and snapping black eyes. ( Leona was old Mrs. Bliven's niece—a ' , I 1 slim girl of eighteen, with a balsam-pink j > complexion, dreamy gray eyes, and teeth 1 white and even as small pearls. In the eyes of James Bliven, the old ' ] lady's sou, Leona was fairest of all created beings. Even Myra Manton allowed ; "that she was sorter nice to look at!" As ' | for Mrs. Bliven herself, she expressed no j opinion whatever; Mrs. Bliven was not a ! person who talked much. "She's come to make me a visit," said Mrs. Bliven one day to Myra. "I sup- j pose, if she suits me, I shall ask her to j stay for good and all." "If you don't, I suppose Jim will," ! said Myra, with a shrewd twinkle of her ; eyes. . "As it happens, I'm the mistress of this house," said Mrs. Bliven. "Well, we'll see how she suits." And neither Myra the solid, nor Leona the sylphlike, knew, as they sat on the sunshiny doorstep, slicing great, red h«arted peaches to dry for winter use, j that Mrs. Bliven, from the garret window above, where she was looking over her balls of carpet-rags, could distinctly hear every word they uttered. "Myra," said Leona, as she replenished j her pan from the great bushel basket, j "I'm going to tell you something." "Tell ahead!" succinctly retorted Myra. "I've got such an idea!" "What is it?" "Well, one of my schoolmates at Han- j over Hall had a grandmother. And her j grandmother had just such a Noah's Ark of a bonnet as Aunt Bliven." "Humph!" said Myra, peeling dili- ' gently away. "And she and her sister took a pair of j bit; shears and snipped it up in-to little I bits and made the grandmother believe J that the rats did it." "Must have been a credulous old eree- ! tur," observed Myra. "Oh, no; but it was really such a neat I job. Don't you think, Myra, we might j dispose of the old Leghorn hat in sumo j such way?" "No, I don't!" said Myra, spearing a j peach 011 the end of her knife and begin, j ning artistically to remove its pink-velvet j jacket. Leona sighed, and went on with her work. Myra Manton paused to call her frolicsome little terrier off from a brood of half-grown turkey poults who were foraging around the barn door. "I do wish," she said, curtly, "that Cappen John Jackson hadn't sent me that plaguey beast to take care on till he come back from that voyage to Payal. IT he hurts any of the fowls, I expect Mrs. Bliveu'll murder me." "My 11,'' said Leona, "are you really engaged to Captain John Jackson?" "Get out!" said Myra, with a sheepish smile. "1 dunno whether Ibe or not." The next day Leona came into her aunt's room with a pretty black-and white straw bonnet, trimmed with a jet dagger and loops innumerable of black ribbon. "Look, Aunt Bliven!" said she. "What's that?" said the old woman, turning her spectacle glasses full on the girl. "I've been trimming a bonnet for you." "You might have saved yourself the trouble," sharply spoke the matron. "But don't you like it?" pleaded Leona, who was beginning to tremble all over. "It's very nice, I dare say, but I'm very well suited already with what I've got." "But, Aunt Bliven—" ' 1 'Tain't worth while to discuss the matter," said Mrs. Bliven, drily. "I calculate I'm old enough to choose for myself what I'll wear and what I won't!" Leona shrank into herself like the leaves of a sensitive plant; she crept back to her bedroom with the rejected triumph of home made millinery, and had a good cry over it. Presently she heard her aunt calling: "Myra! Myrn!" She ran out. "Oh, Aunt Bliven, I had forgotten to tell you. Myra had a telegram from her sister up at Portland, and she had to run to catch the 10 o'clock train. Her sis ter's husband has had an accident, and I promised her I'd explain it to you. She'll be back as soon as they possibly can spare her, and I'm to do the housework while she is gone." Old Mrs. Bliven sniffed discontentedly. "Seems to ine people are always havin' accidents," said she. "However, you may go and pick some Lima beans and sweet corn, and we'll have a dish of good, old fashioned succotash. Myra is a good cook, but she never could make succo tash. And in the afternoon we'll have Toby harnessed up and drive over to Widow Sally Smith's to tea." The long shadows of afternoon were lying athwart the closely mown grass when old Toby was led to the door, and Mrs. Bliven called loudly to Leona to bring down her bonnet and shawl. The girl, who had no especial fancy for the society of Widow Sally Smith and her hard voiced daughters, listlessly obeyed. -~- But the moment she opened the "best bedroom" door, where the old lady kept her choicest treasures, she uttered a shriek of dismay. There, 011 the floor, in a se ries of jagged strips and indistinguish able debris, lay Mrs. Blivens's famous Leghorn bonnet! "Goodness me!" cried a shrill voice, "what's the matter?" And Leona became conscious that old Mrs. Bliven had toiled heavily up the stairs, and stood close beside her, over her shoulder. Her face grew black as night. "Oh, Aunt Bliven," gasped Leona, ' "how could this have happened?" "I see through it all, plain enough," said Mrs. Bliven. "You needn't trouble j to tell any lies about it, Leona Parish! I heard what you and Myra were talking about yesterday morning—about the old I lady and the bonnet that was snipped to i pieces and the blame laid on rats. It's a very smart, ingenious plan, I don't doubt; but somehow it don't suit me to have such very smart, ingenious folks j about my premises. So, if you please, | I'll dispense with the rest of your visit, j The horse and wagon are at the door, j and little Peter will drive you to the de- ' pot as soon as ever you've packed your j trunk." "But, Aunt Bliven, I never—" "I told you I'd have no more false hoods," sternly interrupted the old lady, j "I don't know what sort of consciences j you girls have, in this age of the world. Be silent, I say, and obey me." And thus, in all the bitterness of un- . merited disgrace, Leona was turned out 1 of the house, that was beginning to be ! unspeakably dear to her. James Bliven, when he came home, was thunderstruck. "Mother, for heaven's sake," cried he, "what is this? The girl has no place to goto." "Let her go back to the boarding ■ school she came from!" said Mrs. Bliven, sternly. "I'll have no double-dealers in this house!" "I'll go after her and bring her back." "You'll do as you choose," said the old woman; "but if Leona's the girl 1 i take her to be, she won't come with j you." A sudden wave of despair swept over James's soul as he recognized the truth of J these words. "Mother," he cried, "you'll forgive ! her! You'll send for her to return —for my sake, mother?" LA PORTE, PA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1889. But Mrs. Bliven shook her head. "No girl that isn't frank-hearted and true can have a home here!" she reiter ated. Yet, in spite of a'.l this, the house seemed strangely desolately without Le ona's light step and winning smile. Late at night there was a loud knock ing at the door. It was Myra Manton, come lack. "Things is all right," said she. They was frightened more than they was hurt. Absalom Atkins always was a coward, and I ain't goin' to spend any more o' my time foolin' with 'em; so I've comeback. Was you surprised when you seen Waggy was gone? The dog," in answer to Mrs. Bliven's puzzled look, "that Cappen Jackson left in my charge. When I seen the mischief he'd done, I jest ketchcd him up and left him to Cappen's sister's Mary Ann Jackson, at the cross-roads, and afterward it occurred to mo you might miss him and worry for fear he was lost." "I -er once thought of the dog," said Mrs. Bliven, impatiently. "And the bonnet?" said Myra. "I'm powerfully sorry, but—" "The bonnet!" said Mrs. Bliven. "What do you meau, Myra? What are you talking about?" "You don't tell me you never diskiv ercd it?" cried Myra, bursting into a laugh. "Well, Ido declare. What did you s'posc done it?" "Done whay^ "Why, worried that 'ere Leghorn hat o' your'n into ribbons! It was Waggy, that's who it was! Pups is always mis chievous, and I think he's the worst I ever seen. I meant to told Deacon Ship man's boy, that helped me to tote my satchel to the daypo, to explain it t' ye, but we was pretty nigh bein' left, and flurry and fluster driv it all outen my head." "Mrs. Bliven stared at Myra. . "It was the dog, after all, then," said she. "La me, who else did ye suspect?" cried Myra. "Where's Leona? I fetched home some o' them puce-colored poppy seeds and a slip o' rose geranium foi her, 'caused I knowed—Goodness, what's the matter with you, ch? What are you looking at me that way for?" By the very earliest morning train James Bliven went after Leona, with a letter from his mother imploring her to return to the farm: "I'm an old woman," wrote Mrs. Bliven, "but I ain't too old to own when I've been in the wrong. Come hack, and I'll guarantee you and me won't have any more quarrels." Leona came back, and when once again she crossed the threshold she was James's promised wife. "Mother will be pleased at the engage ment as I am myself," said the young man, rapturously. And Myra's kind eyes shone a cordial welcome, and Mrs. Bliven herself came to meet Leona, wearing the simple straw bonnet with the jet dagger and the black ribbon bows. "It's dreadful becoming," said she, with a complacent glance at the looking glass, "and hereafter I mean to get you to trim all my hats for me, Leona."— Saturday Night. Egyptian Cam. Tll raising Egyptian corn, A. J. Allen, of Warnek, Dak., on the Milwaukee Koad, claims to have had success this season. He said: "I saw a statement in a newspaper last season about corn hav ing been brought from Egypt by a cer tain explorer, and wrote to him for some. He responded, sending me seven kernels, which, he informed me, he had taken from an underground tomb near the bank of the Nile, and they were, like Mark Twain's mummy, 3000 years old. He made no charge for them, and thinking, as I do yet, that he found them as he said, I cultivated them with care and in terest. Each kernel produced three | stalks, and on each stalk grew an car ! about eight inches long and two or three [ inches in diameter. The cars are well filled 1 with kernels about the size of popcorn. The stalks attained the size of our Indian ! corn, and were soft and nice for fodder, ! even when the grain ripened. I thiuk a j great deal of the seed, and shall sow it ; next year on a good-sized patch."—Chi j rago Herald. Cut a Whale in Two at a Blsw. The steamship H. A. Hartmau arrived y Would-Be Railroad Men —A Man TVIIO Could Not Tell Cherries Prom leaves "What color is that?" The speaker was Dr. B. F. Clark, physician of the C., 11. and D. Railroad. A tall man stood before a table on which were piled in great confusion sev eral hundred skeins of different colored worsteds. They were of every shade and hue, from pea-green to mazarine blue, from solferino red to purple, gray, cherry and brown. The doctor continued: "The object of this test is to select the light and dark shades. Now, I'll goon and select them first," and the doctor put all the light and dark shades running from pea green to dark green in a little pile by themselves. The man watched him closely, and the greens were all thrown back into the heap, ai.d the man began. "Don't let your hand run over the worsted, but let your eye do the work," said the doctor, as the man began fumb ling the pile. The man put gray and light yellow and brown together. "That'll do," said the doctor. "That man is not tit for an engineer, fireman, brakeman, switchman, conduc tor, or, in fact, any one who has use for signals. He is color-blind. That test alone is sufficient for any railroad, array or navy. Now to determine what this man's chromatic defect is we select a pink skein. If he is blind he will pick out blues or violets, or both. If he should be green blind he will select grays and greens or blue greens. Some times, to verify the two previous tests, we lay out the red skein, and the party selects browns or greens in their different shades." "What percentage do you find, of all those examined, to be color-blind?" "About four per cent, are color-blind. That is one out of every twenty-five in dividuals. There are more red blind than any other color. The C., H. and D. road has only the green and red lights, j other roads have white, red and green." , "Why do you have worsteds as the ] test, doesn't the Pennsylvania Company | use a stick?" "Yes, they use a stick with about forty different colored skens, but worsted is better than silk because the dye is per fect and not glaring. It is often asked j why we don't examine the men by the i lamps. It is one of the most difficult things to stain the glass regularly. When j the glass is blown it can not be made all I the same color. Then, if the glass is J thicker the color will be darker. Again, j sometimes the wick is turned higher, and then the light has a greater lumin osity, while the other is a very dull light. There may be dust or steam over the glass, and the light will be darker. | A dirty white flag to one color-blind would be taken for a green flag, which means safety. They would take a dirty dark green for red, which means danger. This would lead to endless confusion." "How have you proved this, doctor?" "Why, I recollect taking one man down to the depot and asked him to name the colors from the creek up,which he named all right with the exception of the last lamp—the first one was from the depot—that lamp being covered with dust and the wick turned low. He mis took the green for the red, and said 'the switch was wrong.' We then approached the lamp, and he did not discover his mistake until he was within about thir- | ty-five or forty feet. There are often | cases where men who are color-blind cut 1 knotches in their stricks. I had one man who said he could not pick cherries —could not tell them from the leaves only by their form. He said the sur- j roundig hills were red. And that the I \ outside of a water-melon was red and the ' inside green, but he knew from hearsay : that the opposite was true." i "Do you believe this to be a congenital : defect?" "Yes; but it may also arise from dis ! ease, injuries and the excessive use of to ! bacco and alcohol. In one family I i know of four who are color-blind, two ! brothers and two sisters; in another fam ily an uncle and a nephew." "Do you examine for anything else?" 1 "Oh. yes. It is just as important to examine for vision and hearing as it is for color-blindness. In order to make the test for vision this is the programme: A test plate containing letters that can be seen at *eing examined. If he sees what we call twenty twentieths —that is, the letters representing twenty feet—he has normal vision. Both eyes are put to this test—first the right, then then the left. If he has a vision in both eyes of twenty fiftieths minus—that is to say, if he can't see at twenty feet what he ought to sec at fifty—he is rejected, provided glasses don't improve the vision. If a man can't see that big B, the large letter, which he ought to see at 200, at twenty feet with only one eye, then he has practically only one eye, and there have been several examined who never knew that they could not see out of only one eye." "How do you test for hearing?" "With my watch. The man is re quired to cover up his eyes and I place niy watch to his ear, gradually removing it away until the exact distance that he can hear the ticking is known, lie says "No" when he ceases to hear it. Now, two-thirds of a ( ll the engineers are hard of hearing, or, better, defective in the right ear, which is due to their leaning out of the cab window, coming in con stantcontact with the wind—that is to say, the force of the wind coming in constant eon tact with the drum of the ear it becomes affected. The constant pressure on the drum of the ear has the effect of retracing it. It becomes concave. The range of vision is also tested. This is done by placing a man twelve or eighteen inches from a black board. lie is requested to keep his eye directly on a chalk spot which is on a level .with the eye, the other eye being closed. lie it directed ! to say "yes" the moment he sees any : thing moving toward that spot from j above, below, to the right and to the left. This constitutes his range of vision. If he has any disease or injury to the eye we can always map out his range of vision, as the range is usually contracted in one of the four different directions. To illustrate, one man hail a range of vision in the right eye three inches to the left, six inches above,eight inches to the right and ten inches be low. Of course he was rejected bc i cause he could not sec an approaching I train." ••Why do you reject switchmen or ' brakemeu who have but one eye?" "Because there arc oftentimes flat cars loaded with lumber projecting over the side of the car or ends, and consequently if he was blind on that side he could not ! seo the car comiug in and would be liable to be injured."— Cincinnati Enquirer. Thibetan Customs. All Thibetans slain in battle are hon ored by the people with offerings of sweet-scented flowers. They salute their superiors by taking off their hats and thrusting out their tongues three times. The people say the climate differs every few miles. The punishments are very | severe. No matter whether the crime ; be grave or trivial, the matter great or small, all offenders, when caught, are tied up in a dark room with all their limbs bound, and kept there untii dragged out for trial. Sentences of death are carried out by binding the criminal to a pillar and shooting at him with muskets and bows in a contest for drink, by taking him to a cave swarming with scorpions and allowing the latter to sting him, or by handing him over to be divided and eaten up by the savages of the U country. They put their dead in bags made of hides, which they suspend for seven days ■ from the ridge poles of their dwellings, j while Lama priests chant the liturgy, and ' afterward they are carried to mountain ' peaks, where the flesh is cut into thin slices and thrown to the dogs to cat; this is called the earth interment. The bones are pulverized, made into pills about the size ! of beans and given to eagles to cat; this lis called interment. The sick do not take medicine, but are placed in the scorching heat of the sun with their i bodies daubed all over with butter.— I Ijondou Globe. The Coldest Spot and Coldest Day. 1 j The coldest region in the United > States is the stretch of country on the ■ northern border from the Minnesota 1 lakes to the western line of Dakota. At [ Pembina, which lies near the forty > ninth parallel, the lowest temperature s 1 recorded in the great storm of the winter • ; of 1873 was fifty-six degrees below zero. This is believed to be the lowest temper ' ature reached in tlx? United States.—Sar r i'rttncitco Examiner. NO. 8. FUN. A story of high life—The attic floor. Can a dude be called' a ground swell :' A poultry trust has been organized and thus the fowl business goes on. First Pish—"How are you getting on?" Second Fish—"Swimmingly." Occasionally you see a very rich man who is so economical that he would en joy being poor.— Atchison Globe. "This is a grate experience," said the nutmeg as it went through the pulveriz ing process.— Merchant Traveller. Friend—"Do you still continue to send matter to the newspapers, Cholly?" ('holly—"Yes; but its merely for good faith and not necessary for publication." —Judge. Boy—"Papa, what docs 'M. I).' mean after a doctor's name?" Papa (who has just received a bill from his family phy sician) —"It means 'many dollars,' my son."— New York Journal. "Nurse—"lt's a boy and he's got your eyes and nose and chin." Newly-Made Father—"Got my chin, eh? That's good! I'm thankful he hasn't got his mother's."— Mumsey's Weekly There is such a thing as being too funny, and a man realizes it when lie kicks another man'ssilk hat, just for fun, and tinds that the other man has changed hats with him temporarily, just for fun. too.— So>nerville Journal. "William," said the editor to the office boy, "take these exchanges and put them under the hydrant." "Underthe hydrant, sir?" "Yes, and turn the water on. I want to relieve them of a little of their dryness."— Washington Capital. NOT IN PRINT THAT WAY. Editor—"Have you ever appeared in print before?" Young Poet (proudly)—" Yes, a hun dred times for certain!" Editor—"Ah, but I don't mean visiting cards, you know."— Unterhaltungiblatt, Clerk—"Shall I send a bill with this suit for the baseball editor of The BuglerV Tailor—"By no means. Write him a note and say there is no hurry about pay ment." Clerk —"And what about this suit for the owner of the paper?" Tailor "Send it C. O. D."— Clothier and Fur nisher. Jones was reading aloud to the fam ily circle a media;val romance: "Just then, five minutes past twelve sounded from the belfry of the castle." "But," criticised Mrs. Jones, "no clock could strike five minutes past twelve. "Oh. yes, it could," replied the ingenious Jones, "if it was five minutes too slow.' —Judge. A baby is a specimen of human nature uncontroled by principle. It is a being o! fierce instincts with no morals. It is the opinion of observing persons who have studied babies from a philosophical standpoint that if their capacity for mis chief were equal to their ferocity, they would soon exterminate the adults of the human family.— New York Ledger. IN THE WRONG PLACE. Plug Ugly (taking the best chair in the sanctum) —"Say, I want satisfaction foi dat t'ing yer had in de paper terday 'bout me. See?" Editor —"Oh, yes; wait just a moment until I score one more death. I like tr keep tally of the number of men I kill, you know. This makes the thirty-sev enth. Now, what can Ido for you?" Plug Ugly (reaching for his hat) —"1 I guess I'm in the wrong office. I must 'a made a mistake."— Laurence American. The Forger's Pen. T was talking with a Treasury official on the subject of forgery. "Did it ever occur to you," said the official, "that a forger has half his work done when he can get hold of the identical pen with which the owner of the signature habit ually writes? A great many men, bank Presidents and the like, use the same pen for their names only for a year or two without change. A pen that has been used by a man in writing his name hun dreds of times, and never used for any thing else, will almost write the name of itself. It gets imbued with the spirit of the signature. In the hands of a fairly good forger it will preserve the character istics of the original. The reason for this is that the point of the pen has been ground down in a peculiar way, from being used always by the same hand and for the same combination of letters. It would splutter if held at a wrong angle or forced on lines against its will. It almost guides the sensitive hand of the forger when he attempts to write tl name."— Pall Mull Gazette.