SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VIII. -AN IDLE FANCY. I sat with my soul, idly weaving a rhyme As the fancy came to me; And I said: Sad soul, there cometh a time "When the stars drop into the sea; IVhen they lie like gems Prom diadems In the blue of the midnight sea. The daisy is just as it was of old, And the sunflower turns to the sea; And there lies in the west a land of gold When the summer's day is done; But the bud that blew In the morning dew At night is withered and gone. And what is life but a leaf that grows (In the tip of an idle spray? And beauty—what but a red, red rose That blossoms for only a day? And the red that tips The sweetest lips Soonest turns to leaden gray. Ah, soul so sad, the riddle canst guess, Why the rainbow after the rain Our human eyes doth a moment bless, Then waneth and fadeth again? Why life doth seem But an idle dream That ends in a cry of pain? Of the things that are, my soul replied, God knoweth the how and when; And the roses of June have only died That roses may coma again; And the day that dies Leaves golden skies As a promise of morrow to men. —Harper's Weekly. UNCLE JOB'S GUEST. Aunt Huldah and Uncle Job were writing the invitations to their own golden wedding. It was an unusual and arduous undertaking. They had selected an elegant formula from a Complete Letter Writer, which repre sented to Aunt Huldah's mind the acme of all social etiquette, and she now sat dictating to Uncle Job, who was a fair scribe but a poor speller. Thus far all had gone well. Aunt Huldah derived great satisfaction from this close contact with "dictionary words." The two old heads bobbed eagerly over the long list of guests to be invited, including almost the entire coun tryside, until Uncle Job's yen traced the name of Miss Abigail Appleby. "You ain't goin' to ask her!" cried Aunt Hulda, aghast. "Why, Job, man, they do tell the queerest things of her! I believe the woman is plumb crazy! Livin' all alone as she does in that little house of Dickinson's, comin' from 110 one kuows where, and lillin' it from garret to cellar with Cotton flannel animiles the like of which was never seen in the ark or out of it since! An' doin' her house work in gloves, an' tvin' ribbons to hei cow's hosns last Fourth of July! I won der she wasn't hooked sky-high for it. Ef you ask her to our weddiu', who kuows but what she'll come a-fetchin up with an elephant under one arm and a camel under t'other?" "I think she's a poor, lonesome old critter," said Uncle Job, in a mild, de termined voice. "She may be a leetle teched, Huldy; I don't deny it, but she lives within sight of our house, and I'm not goin' to have every oue of our neigh bors here, an' slight her.' "Well, but she ain't fit to come to any sech getherin". She don't seem p'inted at inakiu' friends, either." "Mebbe folks don't go the right way to work," said the old man, dryly. "I mean to take this invite over myself, and urge her to come." Aunt Huldah set her spectacles firmly on her nose, and surveyed her obstinate husband. "Jest as you say then. But* if she does bring us a heathen beast to set up in our parlor, you'll do the thankin', Job, for I won't!" "I will, I will," promised Parmer Sat- ! terlce, sealing the note and his triumph together with a twinkling little smile. The wedding day was a crisp and gol den one, such a day as October alone kuows how to fashion. Aunt Huldah had been up since dawn. The old house, full of quaint furniture, had needed an immense amount of scrubbing and pol ishing to bring it up to its mistress's ideal. At last Aunt Huldah surveyed her house interior with a sigh of satisfaction. She was giving some asparagus broom a little "tasty twist," as she called it, when n scramble on the front porch announced the first visitors. Millicent and Hetty, her two daughters, released from boarding school to celebrate this anni versary, rushed into the room. "We walked up from the statiou, you know, giandmu. Such a charming day! Leaves perfectly beautiful! Well, how are you? Hetty, isn't she as handsome a grandmother as two harum-scarum girls were ever blessed with?" They both hugged her in rapturous school-girl fashion. "By the way, graudma, can't we have the best bedroom, with the big mirror? Hetty and I want to come out in butter fly style." "I s'jioseso," said Aunt Huldah, leni ently, looking with a suspicion of tears at the tall, handsome girls. She was wishing their father, her only son, had lived to see this day. A few minutes la ter she followed them up to the best chamber. "Laws a massy me! What upon airth ain't you got crammed into that bag? You call that packin', do you! Is that all you're learnin' of ladylike ways?" Hetty looked up with flushing checks at this condemnation called down ou Millie, who only laughed. "Pshaw, grandma! You have to squeeze things into a cabas. Look at this dress," and she pulled out a flimsy garment of shim mering satin covered with lace, and gay with scarlet bows. "Goin' to wear that?" cried Aunt Hul dah, ill dismay. Hetty smiled quietly, and brushed her own pretty blue cloth. Millicent bit her lip in mortification, but she arrayed her self in the condemned garment and ran down into the sitting-room, where Uncle Job sat in all tho dignity of his old broadcloth wedding coat, nibbling flag loot and looking contented. The sight of Millicent brought a deep frown to his brows. "Now, Millie, I ain't a-goin' to have the plain, old-fashioned folks a-comin' here to-night put out with the sight of sech airs in my gran'darter! Take that flummididdlc rig straight off, an' come down here in a dress like your sister's, or not a Step into my parlors do you go!" Millie rushed back up stairs, fluug the despised dress on a heap on a chair, and cried heartily. She upset Hetty's violet water trying to efface the tear stains, and finally, arrayed in her travelling-dress, tripped demurely into the parlor to join her sister in conversation with the minis ter, a youngjnan, with the stamp of col lege fresh upon him. He was the earliest guest. Most of the guests arrived at the same time, so that within half an hour the parlors were filled. A stiffness hung over this assemblage of old neighbors and acquaintances,which turned into astonish ment when Miss Appleby bobbed into the room. She was an odd figure, clad in a rusty black dress, with a scarlet silk handker chief across her shoulders and a large bunch of salvia, very much askew, over one ear. To complete this strange holi day gear she had two enormous bottles dangling clumsily from each side, and bore under one arm, true to Aunt Huldah's prophecy, a large cotton-flannel giraffe decked out in ink-spots as large as ten cent pieces, while a chicken-bone artfully fastened on, graced its nondescript head. Bowing to the company, she placed her gift on the table, where it careened backward on abnormally thick legs in a tragic attidude, and then she looked around the silent room for her hostess. Aunt Iluldah was absent. Hearing no welcoming word or invitation, the old lady shrauk back timidly, and her hands fluttered up and down her dress. Millie had been hiding her smiles behind a fan, but at the sight of the nervous, disturbed glance she went impulsively to the rescue. "Dear Miss Appleby, grandma will bo so glad you came! Take this chair. I suppose you know Miss Appleby, ladies and gentlemen." There were friendly nods and mur murs now in response to Miss Appleby's queer curtsys, as pretty Millicent placed her gently in a chair and chatted kindly with her. Aunt Huldah and Uncle Job were to be addressed after the fashion of the old service by the minister. "I want to stand ax we did long ago," said Aunt Huldah, "when we had no idea of life; and I want to realize the solemness of it." 80 now they came into the room hand in hand, both heads silver gray and both hearts quietly happy- The second ser vice had all the solemnity of a first cere mony about it, and the minister's re marks were very felicitous. As his voice ceased and a rustling silence succeeded it, suddenly Miss Appleby lifted her head, snillcd audibly and dashed from the room, pausing at the foot of the staircase and then darting up it like a squirrel. I Every eye in the room followed her in I amazement, and Aunt Huldah looked i shocked aud vexed. Instantly, upstairs, LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 1890. there was the noise of a downfall and then a terrific crash. Millie and licr grandfather ran upstairs, and the entire company streamed after them. In tho middle of the best bedroom stood Miss Appleby, calmly untying the necks of tho two great bottles from the string that fastened them to her waist. The main part of them lay on the floor, shivered into fragments on the smoking ruins of Millicent's lace dress and one bed-curtain, hastily wrenched down. "It takes me to smell smoke," she said, nodding sagely at the horrified people crowding into the door. "I mortally fear fire an' alwaysigo to big assemblages with my two hand-grenades somewhere about me; that is, ever since I was burnt out o' house and home three year ago. It must 'a' been a candle left burnin', an' it toppled over somehow. La, it's out now! Don't look so white, Mis' Satter lee. Half a bed-curtain.an' a grimcrack dress ain't much to lose!' an' that's really all that happened." Millicent's sorrow over'her dress, half* nonsense, half-earnest, made every one laugh, and under cover of this laughter Aunt Huldah thanked Miss, Aroleby with heartfelt earnestness. It. now was easy forithe sly, queer old lady to get acquaintedUvith the company. As Uncle Job took her to supper on his arm, she was happier than she had been for many a long day. Hearty invitations to two quilting parties and a husking frolic were accepted with a pleasure which admitted no rcmembrai. -c of for mer neglect. She danced in the Virginia reel, and finally went home serenely happy on Uncle Job's arm, with the mem ory of kind words and the girls' warm kisses to cheer her solitary hours. When the last guest had departed Mil licent and Hetty slipped into the parlor. Their grandmother was surveying the giralfc with dubious admiration on her face. "What do you think of it, grandma?" asked Hetty. "1 think," said grandma, seriously, "that it's a turrible-lookin' beast an' no mistake; but it's goin' to stay right here in this parlor for a reminder—you girls needn't ask jest what—of your grand father's wisdom. My Job has a head an' an' a heart to match each other, an' that's an uucommon thing nowadays." The giraffe was induced to stand up right ou a little table in a corner,and now when Miss Appleby, who is a welcome visitor, runs over to Auut Huldah's to spend the afternoon, she always takes a sly peep into the parlor to gaze reverently at that artistic creation of her fertile brain which hits come to such high honor. She secretly thinks that it is the most beauti ful ornament in the house.— Youth's Com panion. Execution Methods in China. The Soo-Chow correspondent of the North China Herald , reporting recently the execution of eleven pirates in that city, refers to the manner in which exe cutions in China are fixed. In other coun tries the criminal knows beforehand the day of his death, and has time to prepare for his fate. But in China all is different. At Pekin the Vermillion pencil marks the death warrant, which is immediately handed to a courier, who instantly mounts a horse and rides off to his destination. The post supplies fresh horses, and he goes onward, sleeping and eating in his saddle, never halting by day or night, in sunshine or rain. After riding 700 miles he reaches Soo-Chow and delivers the warrant to the Governor. Three messen gers are instantly dispatched, one to tho district magistrate, who presides at the execution and who repairs at once to the place, a second to the camp for an escort and the third to the jail. The victims are bound, dragged before the image of the lord of hades, which is in the prison, and pay their respects. They are then placed in cages, carried on coolies' backs, and at a rough trot the cortege sets out for the execution ground. The nerve and blade of one executioner is never trusted in Soo-Chow to take off more than three or four heads. If there is a greater num ber of criminals assistants are employed. There are generally from fifty to one hun dred executions per annum in Soo-Chow, where all the criminals of Kiang-Soo, with a population of 21,000,000, are ex ecuted. They arc mostly pirates. The number of horses in European Russia is 21,000,000. The Russian Government devotes annually SBO,OOO to the purchase of stallions, aud so wide spread has been the interest of late years in improving this stock that races, trot ting matches and shows have been largely inci eased all over the country. IIORSE ABATTOIRS, j HIE USK OF HORSEFLESH FOR FOOD IN PARIS. Only Aged anil Worn-ont Antinals are Slaughtered—How the Horses arc Killed—The Flesh Ralhcr Tough and Repulsive. Frenchmen are too economic to throw away anything, and when horses become used up with wofk what remains of them is killed and eaten. There were 15,000 | liorses and 300 asses eaten in Paris last 1 year. There are four special abattoir ß j for slaughtering them, and horseflesh is , fatcn in all forms. Strangers, however, | will have some difficulty in obtaining a i horse steak for the asking, although it is j often palmed off on them under another ■ name. It is deftly concealed in beef ala j mode, or is used in making soups and ; stews. A visit to one of the horse abattoirs I in Paris is not calculated to make one j a confirmed hippophagist, or horseflesh ' eater. Tho writer visited one of the largest | of these slaughter house early one morn- j ing, and saw the sort of animals that arc I thought fit for human food in Paris. This j abattoir is in the south of Paris in the : Boulevard del' Hospital, not many yards from the famous Manufacture des Gobelin There were forty horses waiting to be slaughtered. They wore decrepit old in- 1 valids, lame, spavined, diseased and flesh less old hacks, suffering all the infirmities which afflict the equine race. When a horse becomes useless for everything else he is taken to these abattoirs and killed, unless he dies on the way. Some of those in the stables were so rickety that th y coidd not stand up. There were several asses among the stock. When alive the ass is characterized by great endurance and phenomenal toughness, and it pre serves those qualities when dead. The butchers did not spare the horses' feeliugs, and that they still had feelings was evident from the way the poor brutes trembled when brought forth to await their fate. Before a horse was killed his shoes were knocked oil, his mane ami tail clipped, and while these preliminaries were being performed ho was allowed to stand and see others being knocked down. He appeared to understand what was going on and what was awaiting him. A blind was placed over the animal's eyes, and a sharp pointod driven iuto its skull a little above tho eyes. A horse is easier killed than an ox. After the skin was removed what remained was to all appearance a mass of hones. But they were carted away all the same bj tho butchers and sold to the poor people and the cheap restaurants. It was dur ing the siege of Paris that the French people became habituated to the use of horseflesh. Before tho imprisoned Par isians were reduced to eating dogs, cats and rats, horseflesh was the staple article of food for many weeks. Tho consump tion of horseflesh, however, had been authorized several years before the war. The first horse abattoir was opened in Paris in 1865, and a restaurant, where nothing but dishes made from horse flesh was served, was established iii the Latin Quarter in 1866. The siege popularized the food, and ever since then the quanti ty consumed has increased every year. French soldiers kill and cat their wounded horses. When Napoleon's army was retreating from Moscow amid the snows of Russia the only food of the sol diers was horseflesh. During tho Cri mean war, when the commissariat of the French and English troops was in a bad way, the French solr' ■« lived sumptu ously on horseflesh 'lie English were almost dyi- Ovation. The French also fe orseflesh in the Franco-Germ ly From a j point of view there is no reason vrtiy norsctlesh should not be eaten by man. Its wholesomeuess de pends on the condition of the horse, and horgps are not usually raised for the shambles. Before the consumption of horseflesh was authorized in France, a number of scientific men held a series of conferences and banquets to demonstrate that the horse wan good for food. Geoffrey Suint-llilaire declared that it was absurd for the French people to lose millions of pounds of good meat every year, when thousands of poor people were in want of food. M.de Quatre fages tried to prove that horseflesh was superior to beof. The fibre was much finer he said. Thest- scientific gentle men, in order to show that they were not afraid of a piece of horse themselves, held a hippophagist banquet, at which the menu consisted ot horse soup, horse sausage, boiled hocsc meat, roast aud ragout, and salad dressed with horse fat. Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three ttonths. A young horse which has not been wcrn out with work may be good to eat, but, except one now and then that is ac cidentally wounded and rendered unfit for work all the horses slaughtered in Paris arc old hacks. Unless the smell of the flesh is deftly concealed or changed by the cook, horseflesh is somewhat re pulsive, and soup made of it has au oily appearance. But the natural repugnance which people have for horseflesh arises more from inherited ideas than anything else. In Pagan times the horse was a sacred animal, just as the cow is among Hindoos to-day. Hares used to be con sidered unfit for human food, and are so still in some parts of Russia. Religion prevents the Jews, Turks, and Arabs from eating pork. Horseflesh is eaten openly in Berlin and Vienna, but not to the same extent as in Paris. A Frenchman opened a store for the sale of horse meat in London a few years ago, but it wasn't a success. Many thousand horses are killed for cats' meat in London every year, and in poor districts it is sold in place of beef. There is no law against the consumption of horseflesh, if sold as such, but every now and then some butcher is prosecuted for selling horseflesh as beef.— New York Sun. Axtell, the $105,000 Colt. Since the great Dexter excitement of more than twenty years ago, no event has occurred in the horse-world which has created so much interest as the achievements and sale of the young stallion Axtell. In fact, the latter event so far surpassed the former that a com- I parison of the two forcibly illustrates the great advance of the American road horse during the period of a little more : than twenty years. When Dexter made | his record of a mile in 2 :l?i, he was I of mature age, and at the summit of his I powers. Yet this speed was so far in ! advance of previous performances that | tho gelding was sold soon after for £33,000. In the more recent event Axtell is only three years old, yet he goes a mile in 2:12, and is sold for a price nearly three and a quarter times greater than was paid for Dexter. ~ The history of Axtell is as brief as sen- I sational. He was foaled in 1886, bred, I raised, trained, and driven by Charles 11. Williams, a young man, of Independence, lowa. His first victory was at Keokuk, lowa, August 9, 1889, where ho won in throe straight heats, in2:50-J, 2:41 J, and 2:31 J. As it was a race for three-year ! olds, he was protested, and the protest j ustaiued. But this, though it deprived i his owner of the immediate results of the victory, made it the more remarkable. ! During the same year the colt was trotted l at Chicago, Minneapolis, Des Moines, Cedar Rapids, aud Lexington, Ky., re j tiring with tho unexampled record, for a two-year-old, of 2:23. On the opening of the season of 1889, Axtell was an object of eager interest and great expectations which he has more than fulfilled. He began by winning a stallion race at Chicago in 2:19, 2:14, and 2:20. This left him the cham pion of three-year-olds. He wore this honor but a few weeks, however, when tho Califoruia filly Suuol trotted in , 2:13). But her triumph was short-lived, for at Indianapolis, October 11, Axtell trotted a nule in 2:12, beating his own time by two seconds, the three-year-old record by one and three-quarter seconds, j the stallion record by one and one-quar ter seconds, and making him the most I famous horse in the world. Soon after the race Axtell was sold for $105,000 to | Col. J. W. Conley, of Chicago, who rep , resented a syndicate, which included ; Col. Conley, W. P. Ijams, of Terre j Haute, A. E. Brush, and F. T. Moran, ! both of Detroit. Axtcll represents a large proportion of Mambrino blood, combined with that of George Wilkes, Rysdyk's Hambletonian, Seeley's American Star, and Clay, upon a thoroughbred foundation.— American Ayricultriti. A Printer'* Bull. Jack Roberts, one of the white haired veterans who patrol Park Row each day, was "subbing" on the World where the style reads: "All time togo in figures." Jack saw a chance for a fight when, alter a trip to the hook, he found it "panned out" a take of poetry, which contained the line: "Meet me in the lane, love, at half-past nine." He set it up: "Meet ine in the lane, love, at 9:30 p. M." Yes, there was u fight. The foreman decided that the liue didn't rhyme with its mate iu Ihe couplet, and, also, that Jack didn't rhyme with hi 3 idea of employes.— The Journalist. NO. 16. FUN. The pig who gets into clover thinks the sward is mightier than the pen. Fowls cannot bo classed as gourmands, if they do eat by the peck.— PitUiburg Chronicle. A rooster doesn't vary his drinks. Wherever he goes he takes a cocktail. —Binghamton Republican. "Single or otherwise?" asked the cen sus taker." "Both." "Oh, come now, madam, you can't be both." "Yes, I can. I'm a twin."— New York Sun. Ethel—"Would you mind sitting on my hat,pa?" Father—"What under the sun do you wish me to sit on your hat for?" 4 'l want to see if I can't invent a new style."— Time. "Is that dog of yours dead?" asked the tramp. "Yes." "Then I will take some of that sausage. Revenge is sweet. Last year he bit me. This year—ah!" —Muntey't Weekly. "Ha!" whinnied the horse, "we ought to be able to get out even though the stable-door is locked. We lnve a key here." "What kind of one?" brayed au ass in the next stall. "Why, a donkey?' —Judge. "Dear me! Dear me!" said Miss Bostonbrcd, laying down the paper she had been reading with a shocked expres sion. "Hero is a long and harrowing account of a party of cannibals who killed and ate several American mission aries! How very, very rude and uncul tured those cannibals must be?" A Baltimore anarchist says he has in vented a sort of percussion cap, no larger than a three cent piece, which, when filled with the new explosive extralitc and scattered on the sidewalk, will blow up every man who treads on one. It has never occurred to any anarchist to invent a new kind of working tool or to manu facture a new brand of soap.— Dctriot Free Prea. Mr. Slowboy (delighted)—" Under cer tain circumstances, you say, Miss Keemoit, you wouldn't object to marry ing me. Thauk you so much. Now, will you tell me what those circumstances arc?" Miss Keemoit, (slowly)—" Well, you see, Mr. Slowboy, If would be per fectly willing to marry you if—if—if you were the very last of your sex."—Phila delphia Inquirer. The Author of "Home, Sweet Home." John Howard Payne, author of "Home, Sweet Home," was born in New York, June 6, 1792; died in Tunis, April 10,185 a. He was very precocious, and when only thirteen years old edited the Thespian Mirror, and two years later started a paper called the Pastime, of which only twenty-live numbers were published. On tho 26th of February, 1809, he made his first appearance on the stage as Norval at the old Park Theatre, New York. Afterward he made a tour of the chief American cities. In 1812 he went to London, where he played for several years, and wrote and adapted many plays. For the drama called "Clari, or the Maid of "Milan, "'he wrote the song of "Home, Sweet Home," upon which his fame chiefly rests. His tragedy of "Brutus" was brought out at Drury Lane in 1818. He also wrote "Virginius" and"Charles 1.," which were also produced in London. He be came the friend and correspondent of Lamb and Coleridge. In 1832 ho re turned to the United States, and after ten years of a life of vicissitutes, he was ap pointed United States Consul at Tunis by Presidtnt Tyler. He served until 1845, when he was recalled, but in 1851 President Fillmore reappointed him to the same position, in which he died.— No Name Magazine. Cinchona Trees in America. Adolph Sutro is trying the experiment of raising cinchona trues at his grounds above the Clifl House. It is from the bark of about a dozen varieties of this tree that quinine is extracted, and if they will thrive in this climate the trees will become very valuable. Moreover, the ciuchona is a very showy tree and highly ornamental, some of them growing to a height of eighty feet. The enormous medicinal consumption of the bark of the cinchona has caused the tree to be extensively cultivated in ludia and Java. It grows in high altitudes in New Grenada, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, where there is a great deal of moisture. It has heen tried with success in Austra lia, near the seacosisl, and Mr. Sutro thinks some of the varieties will grow here, where there is a moisture in the at mosphere all the year round— San Fran cisco Examiner.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers