SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. VIII. Tn the race for tho possession of Africa, remarks the Boston Cultivator, the Ger mans seem to be decidedly ahead. Taxes in Turkey are forty per cent, higher than in any other country on the face of the earth, and it is estimated that tho average population lives fifty per cent, poorer. Charles Dudley Warner says that the difference between tho "faith cure" and tho "mind cure'' is that "tho mind cure doesn't require any faith, and the faith cure doesn't require any mind." From careful estimates received from farmers themselves in every county in Kansas, the cost of raising a bushel of I ■wheat in an average crop in that State— | fifteen bushels to the acre—is believed to J be forty-nine cents. Nineteenth century realism has attained ! it3 culminating point in the cathedral at Manchester, England, where the late General Gordon, of Khartoum fame, is portrayed on the staiued-glass memorial window in the chancel, airayed in a shooting-jacket and knickerbockers. Tho Philadeldliia Press says: "Ice has I not risen in Baltimore and to the South. I It has in Philadelphia and the North, j Coal is really at the foundatidn of cheap j ice. Before long it will be cheaper to I use coal to make ice than to use it in j carrying ice. Many people th ; :ik this is true now." Tho Chattanooga (Tenn.) Times in- j quired into the nationality of the 358 j members of the Chamber of Commerce of j that prosperous and go-ahead city. The j result of the investigation showed that j 175 of the 358 were born in the South- j crn States, while 147 were born North I and thirty-six in foreign countries. Within a year the Atlantic Ocean has ' washed away a thousand acres of land on J the New England coast, and 500 acres j have been given to the New Jersey coast i and as much to Virginia and North Caro- I lina. "Next year," observes the Detroit j Free Press, "the order of things may be reversed. What is taken from one point I is given to another." But few persons who view a passenger train as it goes thundering past know that it represents a cash value of from $75,000 to $120,000. The ordinary ex press traiu represents from 083,000 to J90,000. The engine and tender are valued at $10,500; the baggage car $1000; the postal car $2000; the smoking car $5000; two ordinary passenger cars SIO,OOO each; three palace cars $15,000 each—total $83,000. Many of the trains which pull out from the depot in New York city are worth $150,000. According to the Boston Cultivator the sealskin buffalo made by crossing polled Aberdeen cattle on the wild stock, have a fine, glossy fur, as beautiful as that of the seal, and much thicker. The hump on the buffalo almost entirely disappears on this cross, and with it the shaggy mane for which buffaloes have always been noted. There are now twelve of these sealed buffalo, and the cross promises to become a successful and valuable breed. They lose their wild traits and become so easily domesticated as are our common cattle under like circumstances. The Hudson's Bay Fur Company is giv ing up business because furs are no longer to be had, and the sealskin buffalo,many of which show fur marked like a tiger, will doubtless become a valuable product in northern climes, where the winters are too cold for the common breeds of cattle to succeed. The Chicago Herald narrates that an employe of the Louisville & Texas Railroad at Hawesville, Ky., dreamed that a switch was misplaced, and that a fast train was due. He awoke so deeply im pressed with the vision that he went out to the switch at once to see if all were safe. He found it misplaced, as he had dreamed. A fast train was nearly due, which, with the switch as he found it, would have crashed into a train on the kidetrack in which sixty men were asleep. The incident is of interest to hypnotists and dream student pel haps, but it throws no new light on tho misplaccd switch question. Passengers, as a rule, would Atill prefer to trust to the man that is wide awake rather than to the man that dreams. The Hawesville man's dream was opportune and truthful this time, to be sure, but he is just as likely some other time to dream that the switch is >1) right when really it u all wrong. TO-MORROW. lad for joy in the sunshiny sky, The larks were singing sweet and loud; Silent the white clouds glistened on high, And the sea gleamed far away like a cloud. Jrown bees were humming amongst the brown And ruby wallflowers; straight and tall rhe lily lifted its silver crown; The tulips laughed by the mossy wall, rrue lovers—a girl and a boy—we strayed Down the alleys green, with Love for third, While dreamily mournful the fountain. played, Singing a song that we never heard— 'Be ye as hopeful and blithe as ye may; To-morrow keeps never the bloom of to day !" ! The lark.-; are silent, the sky is gray, The sea is liid in a chilly shroud; I The blossoms that opened yesterday ! Lie torn on the grass in a pallid crowd. The ruby wallflowers droop In the rain; The lily has soiled her silver crown; The tulips hid by the wall in vain— The pitiless wind beat their glory down. How changed is tlie world in a few sltort hours— All life, how changed! Sow I walk alone And hear, while the deathful tempest lours, The fount'iiD sing as my heart makes moan— ■'Be ye as hopeful and blithe as ye may; To-morrow keeps never tlio bloom of to day !'' —Shirley IFi/mie, in Once-a-Week. JANE. I Her nnmc was Jane. Though his | tory has thrown a halo around the name, ind the lyric muse has embalmed it in I that sweetost of songs, "My Pretty j lane," we are apt to think of the girl ?alled Jane as a plain homebody, useful | but not ornamental. Iler sisters, the I Eleanors, Maudes aud Rosamonds, geu i orally look to her to keep the house in ! jrdcr, and see to it that their comfort is j not disturbed, and she is equal to the ! responsibility. She does her duty, and more than her duty, if one can do that, without complaint, indeed, cheer j fully. But complaisant though she be, i Jaue usually has a will of her own, and, | when circumstances require her to do so, makes it known. [ Such a girl was Jane Lewis. She had put the house in order—that is, she. had •.lone all those little things which the best J of servants will slight, aud which go so far iu making up the sum of those homo comforts dear to the Anglo-Saxon heart —and was seated in her own tidy cham ber, sewing. While she was thus en gaged her two sisters came in. They had been making a round of calls and were very elegantly dressed—Jane, in her plain calico, looking almost like a servant by contrast. "Are you making tlioso things for your trousseau?" asked Edith, the eld est, eyeing contemptuously several gar ments lying on the tabic at her sister's elbow. "Yes," said Jane, with gentle.sweet ness. "Are they not nice?" "Oh, they are nicely made, I dare say," said Edith—"you always sew nice ly—but if I were going to be married, I wouldn't put a stitch in for myself, and I wouldn't have a garment that wasn't trimmed with the finest lace." "I too, Ethel," said Julia, who was the youngest of the three sisters. "When I am married I shall have my trousseau from Paris." "But where would be the use of my having anything so fine?" said Jane, "as I know I would have to come back to plain clothes when the wedding things are worn out. A costly wardrobe would not suit the circumstances in which I shall find myself when I am married, and I don't like incongruities." "Well, I suppose you are right," said Edith; "but I will never marry a man who cannot support me in thowstyle to whieh I have been accustomed." "Perhaps you will not haa-e the choice," said Jane, looking lovingly up into her beautiful sister's face. "What do you mean?" asked thu other shaiply. "You are not in the habit of saying ill-natured things Jane,.and if your determination to marry a,poor man —and—and one far beneath you—in—in spite of the objections of your family—" "Don't say any more, dear,"said Jane, I quietly. "I didn't intend to be ill-na tured at all. I only meant that your heart will have something to say when the time comes, and you do not know what that something will be. When yours speaks, Edith, as it will in time, I fancy it will astonish yourself more than any one else." "I heard somebody tell Edith she has j no heart," said Julia, laughing. "I should consider it an unpardonable offense were any one to tell mo that," j said Jane. "Oh, it was only some nonseuse," said Edith, ber face turning red. Jane Lewis was going to be married to a young man of whom her family disap proved—that is, her mother and sister;' and she had been given to understand that her father was of their way of think ing. Not that John Ward was un worthy—he was truly worthy of any woman's love and of any man's respect; but he was—at least they considered him so—their social inferior. He was an architect and building con tractor ; but his father had been a brick mason, and he himself had served his ap prenticeship to the trade, stepping up to the higher rung of the ladder naturally and with a confidence engendered by his ervice at the bottom. LAPOETE, PA., FRIDAY, JULY 25, 1890. Indue course of time John and June Were married. They went qnietly to the church, one bright morning, accom panied by the parents and sisters of the bride and it few particular friends, and as soon as the ceremony was over, drove to the railroad station and took the train that was to carry them to a pleasant lit tle village where they proposed to spend their honeymoon. ****** Five years had passed, and John Ward and his wife, who had begun their weddod life in a very small cottage, were living in a house of considerable size and remarkable for its beauty and the com fortable arrangement of its interior. It was a model residence, designed and erected by the young architect himself, who was already a man well-to-do in the world. They had three children, aud were as happy as people can reasonably expect to be. The only cause they had for any un happinees was the unhappiness of another —Julia. She had married a man sup posed to bo very wealthy, had sent to Paris for her trousseau, and there had been a grand wedding. But her hus band had turned out to be a scamp, and after getting all he could out of his father-in-law, beside forging his name to a note for a large amount of money, bad disappeared. Edith had fulfilled Jane's prophecy and married a poor man for love—u man of good family, but feeble character, whom her father had given a place in his mer cantile establishment, though he was ill fitted for it. While Jane had lived in a modest cot tage, neither her sister nor mother had thought it incumbent on them to keep up those intimate relations with her and her family which the natural ties of close kinship would have seemed to demand. But she, having regard to her filial duty, had not let that influence her own con duct, visiting her old home as frequently as circumstances permitted, though sho could not help feeling that she was not as welcome as she should have been, ller marriage—low marriage her sisters chose to consider it—had not only shut her out of the charmed circlo of fashion, but seemed to have affected her standing in the family circle as well. Her mother had treated her with a sort of condescending affection, but her father's manner to her had never changed. The quiet, undemonstrative old man had seemed to look upon her frequent ap pearance aciong them as a matter of course, often returning her calls, taking tea with her and her husband, and stay ing sometimes until quite late tnlkiug with them, so that Jane was wont to won der if he ever really did disapprove of her marriage with John Ward. The coolness—if it may be so called— on the part of the female members of her family hart, in a measure, disappeared as Ward's worldly circumstancesdiad im proved, though neither Jane's mother nor sisters could ontirely get over the fact that his father had been a brick ma son. When the two girls were married they affected to look upon him as the inferior of their own husbands, though one was a worthless scamp and the other a poor,characterless fellow,who had spent the greater portion of his life thus far in lounging about and looking hand some for the delectation of just such silly women as they were. One evening John and his wife were sitting alone,he looking over some draw ings and she sewing, while they talked together. It was late; the little ones had long been in bed, and they were some what surprised to hear the tinkle of the door bell. John answered the summons himself, and returned to the sitting room accompanied by Mr. Lewis. "It is rather late," said the old gentle man, kissing his daughter—an unusual demonstration of affection on his part— "but I was passing and thought I would drop in for a few minutes." "We are always glad to have you come, papa," said Jane; "and I only wish we lived near enough to see you every day." Mr. Lewis was silent for a few min utes, and then he asked rather abruptly: "Isn't that cottage over on the corner of the street for rent?" indicating the direc tion of the corner in question with his thumb. "Yes, Mr. Lewis," said Ward, looking curiously at his guest; "it has been for rent several months. Nobody seems to care to occupy it, it is in such a dilapi dated condition." "But it could be repaired and made habitable." "Of courss—at considerable expense." "What interest can an old house like that have for you, papa?" asked Jane. "I was just, thinking it might be made a very pleasant home for people of mod erate means," replied Mr. Lewis. "It's a pity it has been allowed togo to rack. This place belongs to you, John, doesn't it?" "Yes," replied Ward. "I bought the lot with the first money that I earned over and above my expenses. But I thought you knew it belonged to me— us, I should say; for what is mine is Jane's, and what is her's is mine. There is no division of interests with us—is there, Jane?" "No, indeed," said Jane, laughing, "if there were I should be a pauper." The next moment she regretted the last words, for she saw n look of pain lit across her father's face. Jane had re ceived nothiug from him, and as he was believed to be a veiy wealthy man, what had inadvertently escaped her lips sound ed like a reproach. "What I meant," said the old man, hesitating a little in hie speech now, "was that there is no incumbrance—no mortgage t" "None whatever," said John, a little proudly. "The property is ours, in fee simple, every plank, every nail in it." "That's well, that's well," said Mr. Lewis. "Every married man should have a home of his own, if he possibly can no matter how modest it may be." "Your father seems a little odd to night," said John, when the old man was gone. "Do you think there can be anything wrong with liimf" asked Jane, anxiously. "Well, it did appear to me that there was a troubled look in his face." "Oh, but John," said the wife, "you know that ho always has a serious ex pression." "It is something more than serious to night," said John. "But I have been very foolish to tell you this, my dear; it will only worry you, and, perhaps, after all, it is merely a fancy of mine." But Jane had noticed the troubled look on her father's face, though she had tried to persuade herself that it was only his usual gravity—a little more pronounced, perhaps, yet nothing to cause anxiety, at all events. About u week after this visit, the min ister who officiated in the church which the family attended called upon the Wards. This was nothing unusual, but the hour that he chose on this occasion was most unusual. It was very early in the morning, when the household was just beginning to stir. Mr. Baxter asked to see Mr. Ward,and after a short conference with him John went up to his wife's room. When he appeared again he was holding Jane's hand, keeping it in his as he led her down the stairs. His manner toward her was even more gentle than usual, and the way in whicli he led her, as though she were a little child, seemed strange. She looked up in his face inquiringly, and saw there a grave expression that tilled her with a vague sense of uneasiness. "What is it, John?" she asked, as they were about to enter the sitting loom. "Mr. Baxter will tell you, my dear," replied John, pressing her hand. Jane was sure now that something dreadful had happened, and she was so dazed when she entered the room that_ her husband had to put his arm around her and lead her to the sofa, on which he gently placed her, taking his seat bu side her. "Mrs. Ward—Jane," sa : d the minis ter, "you were always a sensible girl— one to bo relied on, and we rely cn you now—your husband and I." "Yes, Jane," said John, pressing her hand. •'O, John!" said Jane, resting her cheek against his shoulder and looking up in his face with tearful eyes, "tell me what it is, tell me—don't keep me in this suspense." John looked at the preacher, who nodded his head. "I)o you remember, dear," he said, "the last time your father was here 1 told you he hail a troubled look?" "Yes, I remember," replied Jane tremulously. "Something has happened to him. "lie has met with some misfor tune—he is ill. What is it?" She had lifted her head from her hus band's shoulder and drew a little back, still looking in his face. What she saw there told of worse than illness. "Oh!" she cried, letting her head drop upon his breast, "I know! I know! Papa is dead." Mr. Baxter quietly left the room, and John Ward sat silently holding his weep ing wife in his arms. After awhile he said a few smoothing words to her, and then suggested that they should goto her mother. "Yes," she said gently, "that is where I ought to be. Wo will go at once." Mrs. Lewis was overwhelmed with grief. Frivolous though she had been, and fond of foolish display, she had 1 Dved her husband—how dearly she had never known uniil he had passed out of her life. Edith and Julia had been all the morn ing in their own rooms, crying and sob bing intermittently, and looking over the fashion plates for the styles in which they should have their mourning made, leaving their mother alone with her grief; and when Jane came she clung to her as to a stay of comfort. Much of Jane's time was now devoted to her mother, who could not bear to have her away from her for any great length of time. "Ah, Jane, my dear," she said one day, "little do we think when we are wasting time on the follies of the world, how very short life is, and how soon we may have to part with those we love. Never, my child, let anything win you away from the side of your husband; for if you do, the time will come when you will thing with regret of the many, many Ifturs lost to you and him, for the sake of things that give no real happi ness." "You need have no fear of that, mamma," said Jane; "there is nothing the world can offer that would induce me to spend an hour away from John that could be spent with him." When Mr. Lewis's affairs were wound up, it was found that there was little of his once considerable wealth left for the widow and children. The house in which they lived wa3 heavily mortgaged and had to be sold; but the old man had purchased the cottage he had inquired about, the nignt of his lost visit to Jane, probably with the expectation of soon having to give up the more expensive es tablishment, and this, under the super- Terms— sl-25 in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months. vision of John Ward, and at bis expense was putin habitable condition. There Mrs. Lewis —who had not beet ignorant of her husband's Rmburrass ments, but had paid little heed to hit words when he confided in her—took u| her abode, with Edith and Julia and Edith's husband; their interests and wcl fare looked after by the once despised brickmason's son.— New Orleans Times Democrat. SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL. The climate of China is snid to b< growing not only colder but drier. In the Atlantic Ooean there are about eighty-three pounds of salt to every tor of water. A revolution in coal mining is ex pected from the use of a machine oper ated by electricity. There is a great demand for metal furniture of all kinds in Australia on ac count of the ravages of the white ant. Galvanized wire netting isbeing large ly sold for lawn, garden and shrubbery purposes, for which it is admirably adapted. The coldest spot on earth is Verko yansk, in Siberia, where the mean win ter temperature is 48.6 degrees below zero, Centigrade. As a rule it seems that lepers do not suffer severo pain, and tho average length of life at Molokai, Hawaian Islands, is about four years. Cable messages are received by an in strument known as the syphon recorder, which squirts a small jet of ink on a paper ribbon as the current is made or broken. There are said to bo at least a hun dred thousand acres of phosphate rock scattered through the western part, of Florida. The deposits average ten feet in depth, and are rich in phosphate of lime. Experts claim that if steel ships aro kept properly painted with good paint, and the plates properly "pickled," they would lost, as long as iron, otherwise they would deteriorate more rapidly than iron ships. Electric traction is said to be fairly booming in London. In a few weeks a line of omuibusses run by electricity is to be started. They will bo driven by storage batteries, and will have a seating capacity for twenty-six passengers. The thistle at the autipodes seems to attain a most vigorous growth. Its root penetrates to a depth of from twelve to twenty feet; and this root, even when cut into small pieces, retains vitality, each piece producing a new plant. A weak galvanic current, which will sometimes cure a toothache, may be gen erated b s placing a silver coin on one side of the gum and a piece of zinc on the other. Rinsing the mouth with acidulated water will increase the effect. The greatest electric railroad which has been planned is the one proposed in Russia, between St. Petersburg and Archangel, a distance of 500 miles. The plan is to erect stations along the route for the generation of electricity. The estimated cost is only about #15,000 u mile. Tho projected railroad to the summit of Jungfrau, in Switzerland, contem plates the boldest mountain engineering yet ventured upon. The line, which is to consist of a continuous series of tun nels, is intended to rise in a distance of a little over four miles from an altitude of 2800 feet above the sea to the lofty hcighth of 13,600 feet, with grades of from thirty-threo per cent, to ninety eight per cent. —or practically perpen dicular. A neat application of electricity to do mestic uses ie a miniature pumping plant. With the use of no more current than suffices for a couple of incandescent lamps, it will pump one hundred gallons an hour or eo, and keep the house tank full without a particle of attention. These little electrical devices to lighten labor in the household are particularly com mendable,and as the electrical light and power becomes more widely available, will doubtless increase in number and utility. Origin of tho Term "Masher." The word masher is sometimes said to be a corruption of the French ma cherie. But this is one of the many itntances of an ingenious etymology whose surface plausibility imposes on the unscholarly. Far more likely is the derivation from the Gypsy word mashava, to fascinate by the eye. Charles G. Leland, in"The Gypsies," credits this etymology. "And thus it was,"he says (page 108), "that these black-eyed beauties, by mashing men for many generations, with shafts shot sideways and most wantonly, at last scaled their souls into the corner of their eyes, as you have heard before." And in afoot-note, he explains: "Mashing, a word of Gypsy origin (mashava), mean ing fascination by the.eye, or taking in." Chicago Post. China Clay. The porcelain clays of China differ from those of Europe in containing a large percentage of white mica, or, as it is called, "muscovite." According to a re cent analysis of M. Georges Vogt, the "yeouko" clay, a fusible sort, used for glaze, consists of 52.9 parts of quartz, 31.3 parts of muscovite, 13.4 of soda felspar, 2 of carbonate ot lime and 1 of hydrated silica. Petun-tse clay contains no less than 40.6 percent, of muscovite, which indeed is a common ingredient of in in the Flowery Land. Its pres ence in porcelain clays evidently helps to account for their tronslucency.— Cassell't NO. 41. LONO AGO. 1 once knew all the birds that came And nested in our orchard trees, For every fi