SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M. CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. VIII.
'Tis Better to Laugh.
The sunniest skies are the fairest,
The happiest hours arc the best,
Of all of life's blessings the rarest
Are pictures of pleasure and rest.
Though Fate is cur wishes denying,
Let each bear his part like a man,
Nor darken the world with our sighing—
'Tis better to laugh when we can.
Each heart has its burden of sorrow,
Kach soul has its shadows profound;
'Tis sunshine we're yearning to borrow
From those who may gather around.
The 1 let us wear faces of pleasure
The world will be happy to scan.
A scowl is to no one a treasure—
'Tis better to laugh when we can.
—Chicago Herald.
HIS NEIGHBOR'S BEES.
BY AMY RANDOLPH.
It was a still, frosty evening in Octo
ber, with the moon just old enough to
cast a ruddy light on the leaf-carpeted
path, and tho ancient stono wall, all
broidered over with lichens and moss.
The air was instinct with sweet aro
matic scents, and one red light burned
like a boacou star in the cottage window
on the hill.
"Look!" said Fleda Fenwick.
"Mamma has lighted the lamp! It's
high time we were home."
"And you haven't said yes!'' mourn
fully uttered Jack Trcvelyn.
"And I don't mean to say yes I"
Jack seated himself on the stono wall,
just where tho bars had been taken
down, lie was a handsome, sunburned
follow, with sparkling blaclt eyes and
a rich, dark complexion, as if, in his
far back ancestry, thero hod been some
olive-browed Spaniard. Fleda leaned
against the bars, the moon turning her
fair hair to gold and lingering like blue
sparks in tho deeps of her laughing
eyes. If ever opposites existed in
nature, they existed there, and then.
•'l've a great mind togo away to
sea," said Jack, slowly and vengefully.
"Do," saucily retorted Fleda.
"And never come back again I''
"Oh, Jack!"
"Tho idea," ho criod, raising both
hands as if to invoke tho fair moon her
self by way of audienco, "of a gill re
fusing to be married simply bccauso she
hasn't got somo particular sort of a
wedding gown to stand up in."
"If I can't be married like other
girls, I won't bo married at all," de
clared Fleda, compressing licr rosy
lip?.
"Tho idea of keoping a man waiting
for that!'' groaned Jack.
"It won't be long," coaxed Fleda.
"But, look here, Fleda, why can't
we go quietly to church nnd be mar
ried, any day, and get the gown after
wards?" pleaded Jack.
"But, Jack, it wouldn't bo tho same
thing at all. A girl gets married but
once in her life, an 1 she wants to look
decent then."
"My own darling you would look an
angel in anything!'
"Now, quit that, Jack!'' laughed
Fleda. "It's what my school children
call 'taffy.'"
"1 halo your school children," said
Jack, venomously. "I hato your
school. I despise tho trustees, and I
should like to sco tho building burn
down. Then you would have to come
to me."
"No, I shouldn't," averred Ficda.
"I should take in millinery and dress
making until I had earned enough for
the white silk dress. I never would
Oh, Jackl Who's that?"
"A tramp? I'll soon settle him with
my blackthorn!'' cried Trevelyn,spriug
ing up.
"No, don't," whispered Fleda,
shrinking close to him; "it's Mr.
Mingden. He's on his own premises;
theso woods belong to him. It's we
that are trespassers. "Wait! Stand
still until be has gone by. lie's very
near-sighted, and ho will never see
us."
"And who," breathed Jack, as a
stout, elderly person trotted slowly
across tho patch of moonlight, and van
ished behind the stiff laurel hodge, "is
Mr. Mingden?"
' Don't you know? Our neighbor.
The new gentleman who has bought
Smoke Hall."
"The old cove who is always quar
reling with you?"
"Yes—tho very man who hates bees
so intolerably, and wants mamma to
take away all those lovely hives, down
by the south fence. He says he can't
take his constitution in p;ace, because
h«'» always afraid of being etuog."
"Why don't h* tak« it icinqwh«•
•1»», ttas*?
"That's the very question," said
Fleda,
''Mingden, cli? I believe ho must bo
Harry Mingden's uncle—it's not such a
very common name," said Jack, reflec
tively. "And Harry's my collegoctfum
—and I'm going to ask him to bo my
best man at tho wedding."
"Ob, Jack! I hope he isn't as disa
greeoble as his uncle!" crioi Eifhda.
"He's a trump!"
"Besides, I don't believe his uncle
will let him como!" added tho girl.
"Notlet him come? Why shouldn't
he?"
"Becauso he hates us so on account
of tho bee?."
"But, I say, Fleda!" cried tho young
man,"this complicates matters! 1
promised togo and sei Harry Mingden
when I was down here."
"Go and sco him, then; but don't
mention the namo of Fenwick, foryour
life."
"Indeed I shall. Isn't it tho namo
of all others in which I tako tho most
pride?"
"Oh, J.ick, you will only make more
trouble! It'll be worse than tho bees.
Promise me, Jack, or I'll never, never
speak to you again.*'
And Jack had to promise, after some
unwilling fashion.
Mrs Fenwick, a pretty, faded little
widow was full charged with indigna
tion when Fleda returned from her
stroll in tho woods.
1 'Mamma, what is tho matter?" said
Fleda.
"Ouo of tho hives was t-tippod over
tonight," sobbed Mrs. Fenwick; "and
I'm suro ho did it."
"It was the wind, mammo."
"No wind ever did that, Fleda.
But I set it up again. I will never,
never sacritico my apiary to his absurd
prejudices."
'•Dear mamma, if you would only
have the hives moved to the other side
of the garden! ' p!ca.lod I'V'da, caress
ingly.
"And sacrifico a question of princi
ple! Neverl' replied the widow.
Mrs. Fenwick, ordinarily tho most
amiable of womon, was roused on this
subject to an obstinacy which could
only be characterized as vindictive.
And Mr. Ezra Mingden was ten times
as bad as his neighbor.
"That woman is a dragon ess, HaP
ho said to his nephow. "She keeps
tlioso bees simply to annoy mo. I hate
bcc3. Bees hato mo. Evory time I
■walk thero I get slung."
"But, uncle, you shouldn't brandish
your cano about so," reasoned Harry.
"It's suro to enrago 'em. "
"I don't brandish it on tho woman's
side of tho fjnee. If her abominable
buzzing insects persist in trespassing in
my garden, am I not bound to protect
myself?'' sputtered Mr. Mingden.
"Can't you walk somcwhe:o else?"
"Can't sho put her bees somewhere
else?"
"But, unc'.o, all this seems such a
trivial affair."
"Trivial, indeed! If you'd been
stung on your noso and your ear and
your eyelids and everywhero olse, would
you call it trivial? I never eat honey,
and I've always considered bees to be
an absurdly overrated section of ento
mology. What business have her bees
to bo devouring all my flowers? How
would she like it herself?''
Harry Mingden smiled to seo the de
gree of fury to which the old gentleman
was gradually working himself up. He
was already in Jack Trevelyn's confi
dence, and thus, to a certain extent,
enjoyed the unusual opportunity of see
ing both sides of the question.
"Look here, sir," said ho, "why
don't you set up a colony of bee-hives,
yourself? If her bees riflo your flow
ers, let yourr go fogging into lior gar
den. Let her soo, as you suggost, how
sho would like it herself. Put a row
of hives as closo to your side of tho
fence, as you can get it. If they fight
let 'em light. Bees are an uncommon
ly war-like race, I'm told; if they agree
what is to prevent 'em bringing half
the honey into your hivos?"
"By Jove," said Mr. Mingden, start
ing to his faet, "I never thought of
that. I'll do itl I wonder whore the
deuce they sell bees! Thero isn't a
moment to be lost."
"I think 1 know of a ploco where I
could buy half a dozen hivos," said
Harry.
* * * ♦ #
"The gentleman wants to buy some
bees," said Fieda. "Dear mamma, do
sell your.); we can easily get all tho
hou«y we want—' 1
"But l'vs kept beci «ll m/Ufa,"
Mid Mri. Finwick, pittgmly,
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, MAY 30, 1890.
"Yes, but they're such a care,
mamma, now that you are no longer
young, and you are hardly able to look
after them in swarming time, and—
(slic durcd not allude to the trouble
they wero making in neighborly rela
tions, but glided swiftly onto the next
vantage point)—"it wi.lbe just exactly
tho money I want to finish the sum for
my wedding dress."
Mrs. Fen wick's face softened; she
kissod Fleda's carmine check, with a
deep sigh.
I 'For your sake, then, darling," said
she. "But I wouldn't for the world
havo Mr. Mingden think that I would
concedo a single inch to—"
"I don't know that it is any of Mr.
Mingden's business," said Flcda,
quietly.
Tho next day Mr. Mingden trotted
to look at his new possessions.
'■Too bad that Harry had togo back
to town before ho had a chance to see
how tho beo-hivos looked in their
place," soliloquized he. "A capital
idea, that of his. I wonder what the
old lady will say when she sees tho op
position apiary! Won't she bo furiousl
Ha, ha, ha!"
lie adjusted his spectacles as ho
hastened down towards tho sunny south
walk which had herotoforo boon tho
battle-ground. Thero was the row of
square, white hives on his sido of tho
fence —but lo! and bohold! tho bench
that had extended on tho other sido
was vacant and deserted!
"Why!" ho exclaimed, coming to an
abrupt standstill. "What has she done
with her bees?"
"Sold 'em all to you, sir," said
Jacob, tho gardener. "And a fino lot
they be! And not an unreasonable
price neither! Mr. Ilarry looked arter
that hisself."
"I hope you'll be very kind to them,
sir!" uttered a soft, pleading littlo
voice, and Elfleda Fenwiclc's golden
head appeared just abovo tho pickets of
tho fouco. "And I never knew until
just now that it was you who bought
them.*'
"Humph!" said Mr. Mingden.
"But, I hope, after this," kindly
added Fleda, "that we shall never have
tiny more trouble—as neighbors, 1
meau. It has mado me vory unhappy,
and —"
Tho bluo eye', tho faltering voice,
melted tho old gentleman at last.
"Then don't let it make you unhappy
any longer, my dear!" said he, reaching
over tho pickets to shako hands
tho pretty special pleader. "Hang the
bees! After all, what difference does
it make which sido of the fence thcy'ro
on? So you're tho little school teacher,
are you? I'm blessed if I don't wish I
was young enough togo to school to
you myselfl"
Fieda ran back to tho house in secret
glee.
"I do believe," she thought, "tho
Montague and Capulot feui is healed
at last! Aud Ido bolievo" (knitting
her blond brows), "that Jack told
young Mingden all about tho boes, and
that that is the solution of this mys
tery!"
But that evening there came a pres
ent of white grapes from tho Mingden
greenhouses to Mrs. Fen wick, with tho
old gentleman's card.
"He must havo been very much
pleased to get tho beos," thought tho
old lady. "If I had only known ho
liked bees, I should have thought very
differently of him. All this shows how
slow wo should bo to believe sorvants'
gossip aud neighborhood tattle! If 1
had known ho was the pure', aser, 1
should havo decline! to negotiate; but
perhaps everything has happened for
tho best!"
Jack Trevelyn thought so, when ho
stood up in tho village church, a fort
night from that time beside a fair vision
in glittering white silk, and a vail that
was liko crystalizod frost-work. And
tho strangest part of all was that old
Mr. Mingden was there to give the
bride away!
"I take all tho credit to myself,"
mischievously whispered Harry Ming
den, tho "best man." "But I'm afraid
it is easier to set machinery in motion
than to stop it afterwards! And it's
just possible that I may havo an aunt
m-law yet."
'•Stranger things have happoned,"
said the bridegroom. The Ledger.
Ho Was Convinced.
Judge—Prisoner, do you confess
your guili'
"No Your Honor. Tho speech of
uif lawyer !:u» cub vine* I «v«» mt «112
ruy Mtirt iusQscu*;."
LADIES' DEPARTMENT.
ROYAL IIOUSEKERFERS.
A New York lady who was at tho
Queen's drawing-room writos toafriend
in glowing terms about the practical
sido of the Princess of Wales. She not
only had hor three daughters taught to
r!de in left and right saddle seats, but
also to mako bread and butter. The
butter rolls turned out at the royal
dairy aro "pretty things to look at and
eat up," and the brown and white
bread made by tho Princesses Victoria
nnd Maud are occasionally sent t'o
Windsor Castlo and would sweep the
bluo ribbons of an entire county of
county fairs. One hour a day tho
princesses devote to housekeeping.
Rumor has it that they don white altar
gowns made with bishop's sleeves and
girdled with an old silver chain to
which the keys of the house aro at
tached.—New York World.
WOMEN'S ETES.
According to a London optician
women's eyes ore weaker than men's,
and they must not hopo lo get their
sight suited in difficult cases by select
ing for themselves spnctaclos from an
optician's tray. A difficult condition
of eyesight both to detect and to com
pensate is not infrequently found to be
tho cause of imaginary neuralgia or
chronic hoadacho; this may be described
as being long-sighted with short-sighted
astigmatism. In either of those cases
no glasses that are compounds of con
vex curves or concave curves only, even
spheres and cylinders combined, will
givo relief; it is only when the exact
combination of con vox spheres with
concave cylinders, or concavo spheres
with convex cylinders, is found that
the porson who is troubled can see
without strain.
IIEALTn AND BEAUTY.
"Did you evor notice," inquirod an
admirer of feminine lovolinass, "that
tho bloom of health upon a woman's
cheok, the sparkle in her eye, that ovory
woman can acquire by due attontion to
hygienic rules, such as securing plenty
of exercise, make the homeliest features
most attractive, causes a retrousse nose,
a mouth not exactly modeled after
Cupid's bow, a face that lacks tho oval
outline over which poets rave, to be
come so attractive as to command at
tention from admirers of tho male per
suasion, where tho placid beauty of a
Grecian faco, depending entirely on the
regularity of features and classic head
and brow for its attractiveness, will fail
to attract a second glance. A certain
writer has sajd that every woman is at
tractive whilo enjoying good hoalth,
and whilo his statement may be, per
haps, a trifle too broad, I think ho was
pretty nearly correct. There is no such
enemy to fomininc beauty as ill health.
No, lam not going to spring a patent
medicine advertisement on you fellows,
so you needn't walk away. I'm not
connected with any drug store either."
—Star. Sayings.
FROrER TREATMENT OF TITE ITAIR.
No woman need expect to have her
hair looking beautiful who goes to bed
without taking it down and giving it
its night drossing. A woman who has
wonderfully beautiful hair says:"l
tako out all tho pins, brush my hair
well, and then plait it carofully but
loosely, so that in the morning it is not
in a snarl. I usually try to brush it
ten minutes, but when I can get some
body else to do it for mo the sensation
is so delicious that I almost wish they
could keep on forevor. Of course, I
sit down to brush it, becauso standing
taxes tho strength too much. lam ono
of the people who believe in learning
tho easiest way to do everything, for
really the same ends may be gained
with loss oxortion. Tho foolish woman
is the one who rushes about her room
in dressing, paces tho floor while but
toning her gloves, stands while she is
arranging her hair, and the result of
her folly shows itself in hor weariness
when the time for recreation arrives."
Think over all this, you nervous
women. Try to recognize the waste
fulness of misapplied endeavor, and
while you strive in every legitimate way
to mako yoursolves look as pretty as
possible, savo your strength for some
thing for which it will absolutely be
required. — N. Y. Sun.
INDIVIDUALITY IN A PHOTOGRAPH.
"Taking ti photograph nowadays
Un't the easy thing it was a few yeurs
ago," snld thn photogruphar. "Then
the sitter woi itßtUUud If tbr pleturt
njireitnted fairly wall tin fr*lwti uud
Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months.
figure. Today it must not only do
that, but it must be, as well, full of
the 'personality of tho original. It
must be a groat deal more than tho
likeness of the physical man or woman
it must oxpress the entiro individuality
of the person.
"Look at tho photograph of this
woman, for example"—it was a full
length figure of a beautiful woman
holding back tho folds of somo heavy
drapery against which her clear profile
and small head were outlined. "That
isn't a picture of tho woman's face and
figure simply, it's a picture of tho very
woman, with all the subtle traits and
characteristics that goto make up her
individuality.
"Tho ability to compass this is what
makes photography an art and the
photographer an artist. He must bo
able instantly to catch the individuality
of each subject that is presented and
chooso such a pose of figure and ex
pression of feature as shall best indicate
that individuality.
"Sometimes the sitter is a help to
tho artist, and sometimes not. Womou
havo a better understanding than men
of what is required to st:imp a picturo
with their own spiritual likeness, and
actrosscs are usually even better at it
than tho artist himself. Having
studied themselves thoroughly, as well
as the art of bodily expression, they
instantly chooso tho most tolling poso
and the most effective oxprossion.
"That is why the actress always gets
a better picturo than tho average
sitter."— New York Sun.
FACTS ABOUT BEWINO TTIREAD.
Every seamstress, whether slio wants
No. SO or CO or 120 thread, knows
from the number just what size the
thiead will be and what kind of sow
ing it can bo used for, but how the
numbers camo to be just what they are
and just what they mean not ono per
son in a thousand knows; yet it is a
very simplo matter to explain, provid
ing you only know the points and how
to elucidate thom. When 840 yards of
yarn weigh 7000 grains, a pound of
cotton, the thread makers mark it No.
1. If 1680 yards weigh a pound it is
marked as No. 2. For No. 50 yarn it
would take 50 multiplied by 840 to
weigh a pound. Tins is the whole ex
planation of tbe yard measurement as
used by tho spool cotton manufact
urers. Tho early manufactured turead
was of three instead of six cord, tho
number being derived from tho num
ber of yards to the pound, just as it is
to-day. No. CO yarn mado No. 60
thread, though in point of fact the
actual calibre of No. CO thread would
equal No. 20 yam, being made of three
No. 20 strands twisted together.
When tho sewing machine camo into
tho market as the great thread consum
er, unreasoning in its work and inexor
able in its demands for mechanical ac
curacy, six cord cotton had to be mado
in place of the old nnd rougher three
cord, it being much smoother. As
thread numbers were already established
ihcy wero not altered for tho new arti
cle, and No. 60 six cord and No. 60
threo cord wore left idontical in both
size and number. To effect this tho
six cord has to bo mado of yarn twice as
fine as that demanded in making the threo
cord variety. Tho No. 60 six cord is
made of six strands of No. 120 yarn.
The threo cord spool cotton is tho samo
number as tho yarn is mado of. Six
cord spool cotton is always mado from
yarn doublo its number. Thread is a
simple thing, but, simplo as it is, there
are two thousand kinds of it, and each
kind goes through hundreds of differ
ent processes. — Button I'ranseript.
FAIIION NOTES.
White silk bounets for babies.
Black satins for summer petticoats.
Farasols having immense plaid do
signs.
Sorgo robes having sido bands in lace
effects.
Shoulder capes with tho erect Medici
collars.
Fancy rolling linen collars, edged
with lace.
Satin stripod black grenadine in large
quantities.
Jabots and fichu collars of Vandyke
lace aud ribbon.
Piain and brocaded mohairs for com
bination dresses.
Large plaids in ginghams and imall
figures in satinet.
Long wrap* of plaid and itrlpad
wnt«tt | ruofori jatttrlal.
NO. 33.
A W.jsSeilous Femalo Nihilist.
A womau named Vera Sassulitch
2red in an obscure province in Russia,
where she taught a httlo country school.
She was a really fino woman, of great
natural ability, which hail never been
developed owing to her narrow sur
roundings. 15/ chanco thero came to
visit in that town a brilliant editor of
an influential newspaper, who mado her
acquaintance and who recognized her
intelligence. Through this acquaint
ance she camo to know that thcro was
Something to live for beyond her narrow
limit; and when tho editor went to his
homo there sprung up a correspondence
bctwoen them.
Beforo long tho journalist was ar
rested as a suspect by the secret police,
fcrho hurried him off to prison, and in
searching his residenco found letters
from Vera Sassulitch. Without any
reason whatever sho was arrested and
placed in jail for a long time, although,
as had been stated, no proof whatever
was found against her.
It so happened that sho was placed
in the same rowofc.'lls with tho editor;
once a weok, when he was taken out to
be lashed, she could hear his piercing
yells, which rung through her head
and were never effaced from lior mem
ory. It was then sho swore that tho
instant she regained liberty she would
kill tho man who imprisoned the editor,
and finally she would kill the Czar him
self.
After many months of imprisonment
sho was released, and upon getting out
of jail at onco purchased a revolvor.
She walked immediately to tho office,
and, taking deliberate aim at tho offi
cer's lioad, fired, but the wound was not
fatal.
Today that woman, Vera Sassulitch,
is at the head of all Nihilist plots in
the Czar's domains. Nobody knows
whero she can 1>« found or what will be
her noxt work. She sends messages
and documents to the Czar and to all
tho leading men in his domains, warn
ing them acts of cruelty, and
threatening them* with 'death. But try
as they may, no effort has succeeded
in bringing her again under arrest.
The Czar has sometimes risen from his
bed, and, beforo dressing has happened
to look upon his tablo a'ld found thcro
a warning from this woman, but never
has ho been able to find out who
brought it or whence it come."
From Prison to Legislature.
"A tenderfoot judge from tho East,
when I went out to Dakota fifteen years
ago," said Senator Pettigrow to a re
porter, "was holding court on the ex
tremo frontier in a town on the banks
of the Missouri river, when it chanced
that an indictment for murder wis
brought against three men who had
hanged a horse thief to a telegraph
pole. The accused woro released on
their own bonds, and when the day
camo for their trial they came into court
unaccompanied by an attorney, and ad
vanced toward the judge, each one of
them with his hand on a brace of 44-cal
ib.-r revolvers, and ruovjd that the case
be adjourned for a year, during which
tlioy should be released as beforo on theii
personal bonds. Tho judgo promptly
granted the motion, remarking subse
quently that tho argument in its behalf
was the most powerful ho had ever heard
in a court of law.
"When tho year had gone by no
further action was instituted, until it
happened that ono of the three men
was elected to tl'o Legislature. His
scat was contested and the contestant,
wishing to throw odium upon his ad
versary, had him arrested under tho old
indictment for murder and confined in
the jail, which was immediately bonoath
the room in the courthouse wharo the
Legislature mot. Tho county was not
willing to pay tho prisoner's board, nor
would tho town or territorial authori
ties, and so tho contestant paid it. Bui
ho lost his case and thereupon announced
that ho would not pay for his oppo
nent's support any longer. So, inas
much as no one else would become re
sponsible for it, tho man was liberated,
walkod upstairs, and took his feat in
due form in tho Legislative body, ol
which I was mysolf a member."— Wuth•
in gton Star.
Tho Brute!
"Speaking of wife beaters," remarked
McCorkle, 'MoCraeklo beat his las'
evening very badly."
•'You don't tell mcl" exclaimed Mrs.
McCorklo Indignantly.
"Ye», bent bar four gamti of cheu't-