SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M, CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. IX.
According to the Chicago Weies, the
leading newspapers in Havana, Cuba,
advocate reciprocity with the United
States.
Italy has ordered the study of English
to be added to the ouriculuin of all Ital
ian universities, and has endowed the
necessary professorships for the purpose.
It is estimated that the railroads of the
United States lose $2,000,000 yearly by
landslides, $3,000,000 by floods, 81,-
000,000 by fire, and $9,000,000 by col
lisions.
At a banquet in Sheffield, England,
the other day, Lord Wolseley, in address
ing the yeomanry cavalry, advised them
to make themselves good shots and effi
cient to fight on foot, because the days
of fighting on horseback in England
were past and gone.
It seems to be a fact, states the New
Orleans Timea-IJemoerat, that as the ur
ban population increases, marriage de
crease. The iucrease in the urban popu
lation of the United States during this
century has been from four to twenty
two per cent.
"The romance of diamond mining is
all gone," laments the St. Louis Star
Sayings. "It is now a matter of excava
ting vast beds of blue clay by machinery,
wushing it and sifting out the diamonds,
which, after being roughly sorted for
size, are sold in bulk by weight."
The number of tramps has decreased
seventy-five per cent, in the last five
years, and it is the laws passed by the
different States which have done it,
opines the Detroit Free Pres». When
you make tramping a crime you oblige a
tramp togo to work and make an honest
living.
Statistics show that there are some
two million people in this couutry de
pendent upon the railroads for support.
The number of employed is put at 704,-
743. In case of a general strike, re
murks the CalCicator, the number
of people to sutler direct loss is thus
shown to be very large.
The salary list of the staff of the great
Word's Pair is interesting. It is as fol
lows: Gage, President, $6000; Bryan,
Yice-Prcsident, $12,000; Butterworth,
Secretary, §10,000; Seeburger, Treasurer,
$0000; Palmer, National President, $12,-
000; Davis, Director General, $15,000;
Dickinson, Secretary, SIO,OOO. This
makes a snug total of $70,000.
The following figures ara published in
a German publication that stands high as
an authority on railroad matters. The
table gives a summary of the world's
railroad mileage last year as compared
with the figures of four years ago:
Dec. 31, 'B4. Dec. 31, 'B9.
Miles. Miles.
America 140,600 191,000
Europe 116,600 138,90 C
Asia..* 13,201) 17,800
Africa 4,600 5,200
Australia 7,600 10,500
Total 303,000 357,400
In San Francisco the sewing girls have
to compete with Chinese labor, asserts
the New Orleans Picayune, and their
wagej amount to $4.50 a week. In New
York the American girls have been driven
out of the clothing shops altogether by
the Polish, Hungarian and Kussian wo
men, who work ten hours a day, seven
days in the week, for $4. The average
wages paid the factory girls by suit, cap,
cloak, feather, flower and underwear
manufacturers is $3.70. Perhaps 300
forewomen get $25 a week, and a num
ber are able to earn sts after ten years'
service, but there are thousands of little
girls and young women who begin on $1
and are raised at the rate of seventy-five
cents a year.
There is a prejudice in the rural dis
tricts of this State against bachelors, says
the Portland Oregonian. People in every
out-laying settlement are opposed to
bachelors taking up claims in their
vicinity. An exchange says: "There
are some splendid claims on Deadwood
Creek not yet taken, as good as any on
the coast. The citizens want men with
families to settle on them. Three of
these claims were taken by bachelors
last fall. The ladies of Deadwood passed
a resolution placing a three years' limit
on celibacy in that district, and provid
ing all bachelors not married a', the end
of that time be run out vf the settlement
or hanged." Five bachelors moved out,
one got married and two have gone into
the sparking business.
THE SHEKhiLS AND THE CUP.
THANKSGIVING T.INES.
Our grateful songs in rapture rise,
For blessings from propitious skies,
For golden harvests gathered here,
Where plenty's purple bauner flies
Unchallenged through the circling year.
For bread the toiler need not lack,
If at the plow he looks not back.
And wiauows from the seed the tares.
He'll find the shekels in his sack.
As Jacob's anxious sons found theirs.
is the loaf the harvest brings,
Feast for a continent of kings.
Are we not sovereigns lifted up?
Our nation's (as the youngest born),
Like Benjamin's filled sack of corn.
Contains the shekels and the cup!
Summer on rapid wings has fled,
Leaves that were green are turning red,
The cheerful swallows southward soar;
But He who gives us daily bread
Has filled our basket and our store.
From teeming fields bronzed labor tilled
Our vaults and bins and barns are filled,
And we have learned to toil and trust.
The rain, in plenteous showers distilled,
Fell on the just and the unjust.
—Gcorye W. Bungay.
A THANKSGIVING PIG.
BY ISABET, HOLMES MASON.
.i LIVE stood at the
kitchen tabic getting
~takr.. 1 Thanksgiving dinner
lifeSfe I under way, while Lolly
, E handed her things from
the clo»et, humming
W§tj£l& l &g p meanwhile in an uti
dertone: "Four-and
twenty blackbirds bak
in' in a pie."
Tlic racing pell-mell overhead might
have sounded like colts let loose but for
girlish shouts and laughter.
"Goodness, what a uoise!" Olive said,
ns Lolly handed her the box of summer
savory. "Dan will be torn to pieces
unless he turns upon them."
"He said the letter I brought him
was from his best girl and they're tryin'
to get it away from him," explained
Lolly.
Olive was preparing her stuffing with
keen housewifely instinct as to relative
quantities of "seasons" required. The
creature to be stuffed stood on all fours
on a table. Not a commonplace turkey
but a'pink-uosed little pig was to grace '
the occasion of her nephew Dan's unex
pected return home after "sailing the seas
over"' seven years without a word to his
relatives.
"Won't roast a lovely brown!"
Lolly naiil, as she watched the stuffing
disappear.
"Yes, Dan will have a Thanksgiving
feast this year," asseuted Olive.
The racket overhead increased. "If
they could always keep heart-whole,"
Olive thought with a little sigh. "Hut
we get our growth through suffering, I
suppose."
A concealed regret, which had a fashion i
of working to the surface on festive I
occasions, was uppermost just now. But |
she was a blithe, cheery little woman |
with a talent for battling off dull ,
thoughts, and so she laughed and said |
lightly: "Those girls make me think I
urn young again. Lolly."
As she spoke her eye wandered across ;
the brown meadow to the Ellen wood j
homestead and then beyond it to the |
white house on the hill among the 1
larches, where Squire Ashtou lived, whom
her friends wondered she did not marry.
What was she waiting for? She was
thirty-six now, fair and comely in com- '
parison with tome of the faded married i
women around her who had been
her schoolmates, but it would not always ;
be so tine to live alone ou the old home- ;
stead as she had done since her father's •
death. Offers of marriage would not I
come to her door always. Her own view \
of the matter had begun to coincide with !
that of her friends. Squire Ashton was j
a widower of tifty, of kindly, noble I
nuture, whom she liked cordially. He j
had wooed her two years, until now she
was losing patience with her own iu- I
decision. Why was she hesitating; To:
be sure his presence never quickened her
even pulses, but why should she expect
the tumultuous expression of an earlier 1
love?
She had been on the border of saying i
"yes" to his pleading at the very mo
ment Dan's vigorous summons with the
old-fashioned knocker on the front door
had brought her out. from the parlor in
a hurry, to be caught, in the arms of her
roving nephew in a regular sailor "hug."
"Wait until Thanksgiving," she had
said to Squire Ashton, removing her de
cision a week ahead.
Meantime, the six girls were chasing
Dan round under the brown cobweb
hung rafters, he holding the letters
aloft.
"Catch him! ITead him off there!"
they shouted.
Presently Dan. mg, brown and full of
true sailor jollity, changed from de
fensive to aggressive tactics. He set
Bess on top of the spider-leggwl bureau
in a bed of dust, tied Clara by the waist
to a tall, four-posted bedstead with his
handkerchief and seized a pair of old
quiltiuir frames to defend himself against
Sue and Kate. His free motions with
the -'bclayiug pins" brought a swinging
shelf of books to the floor, and "Robin
,-nii Crusoe." "Gulliver's Travels,"
'■lVntdise Lost" ami ot.her clu-wies
sniawled amitl 11 heap of dog-eared
suiiuolbooks iu the dus>t.
LAPORTE, PA.., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 21. 1890.
"I see a letter slipping out from Robin
son Crusoe!" Bess cried from her perch.
Sue picked it up and turned it over.
"Why, it's addressed to Miss Olive
Blossom and it's never been opened I" she
exclaimed. "It looks awful old and yel
low."
Dan examined it, then compared the
haudwriting with that on his own let
ter.
"The same, or I'm a landlubber," he
muttered.
"Likely it's an old love letter," Clara
suggested from her bedpost.
"And she never got it, just as happens
in story-books," added Kate. "Let as
put it under her dinner plate."
"No! no!" was Sue's veto. "Give it
to me. I have an idea. Quick. She's
coming up."
"Oh, it was the bookcase. I thought
some one was hurt," said Olive, entering
as Sue dtwhed out past her. "Poor
father! mw he used to pore over these
books," she continued as she stooped to
pick them up. "He had 'Paradise Lost'
and 'Robinson Crusoe' by heart, I be
lieve."
"Did he ever use them for letter
boxes!" Bess called from the top of the
bureau.
"Hush!" said Kate warningly.
"What do you mean?" asked Olive.
"Nothing," said Bess as Sue came back
with an unconscious face. She had been
down in the kitchen prospecting around
the pink-nosed pig still on the table with
stuffing incomplete, while Lolly, out. of
sight in the back porch, kept hummiug—
Four and twenty blackbirds
Bakin' in a. pie.
"I must hurry down," said Olive.
"Pick up the books, wont you, girls,
and don't loosen the rafters?" she called
back from the stairs with a wholesome
recollection of her own romping days.
"What did you do with the letter?"
they queried of Sue.
"That's my business."
"You might tell me," coaxed Dan.
"You after leading us such a chase
after your letter."
"There's nothing in it," said Dan,
tossing it toward her.
She pulled the letter out of the envel
ope and read*-
Yours at hand. Thanks for information.
Shall see you later. P.
"No 'best girl' wrote that" said Bess.
"Its from a man.
"HERE'S YOUR LOVE LETTER, AUNT OUVE."
"Not it duck uor a darling iu it,"
nddod Sue in disgust; "but I'll tell you
now what I did with the other letter
just the same," and she whispered iu his
ear.
After freeing the captives Dan went
down stairs,three at a time,to the kitchen,
the girls trooping after him as their law
ful prey.
There was a steam concert on the
kitchen stove. Pudding, chicken, squash
and cranberries, stenming, stewing, bub
bling, "gurgling" with a harmony of
sound truly inspiring. Lolly was heap
ing a glass dish with red and russet apples,
Olive beating eggs and butter to a froth.
"llow is the pig?" inquired Bess.
"Ready for a basting," letured Olive.
"Let me do it." Sue, spoon in hand,
had opened the oven door.
"Oh, oh! how nice he is browning!"
they all exclaimed.
"He looks fit for a marriage feast,"
Dan commented, with a sidelong glance
at Olive.
"Do you want to furnish a bride?" in
quired Olive.
"No a bridegroom," rejoined Dan,
concisely.
"Squire Ashton is only waiting," Sue
spoke up pertly.
"Hush," said Olive. "Sue, shut the
oven door and let the pig sizzle to its
, heart's content."
"I could furnish a better bridegroom
than Squire Ashton," Dan said, mean
j ingly, with his weather eye on Olive's
! face.
! "I wish you could head him off in
! someway," said Bess, inelegantly. "He
| wants to carry Aunt Olive to the house on
the hill, and then good-bye to our fun."
"I'm not iu the white house on the
hill yet," said Olive shortly.
"I'll bet you never will be," declared
Dan. boldly.
| "Here's the summer savory all turned
! out on the table," said Olive, unheeding
' his remark, as she sat down her bowl of
froth. "Lolly, what have you done with
the box?"
"Never touched it," said Lolly.
Dan was regarding Olive with a mix
j ture of admiration and affection.
"1 tell you what, girls. Aunt Olive is
prettier than any of you," he said.
| "Squire Ashton thinks she is the pink
i of perfection," spoke up Sue.
"Bother Squire Ashton!" Dan took a
step toward Olive and kissed her cheek.
"You were always my boy, weren't
you, Dan?" Olive said fondly.
"Always! You stood by me in many
a scrape," returned Dan. "Aunt Olive,"
he continued, "if a chum, a particular
friend of mine, should happen along
about dinner time would you give him a
welcome and a seat at the table?"
"Certainly I should," she returned.
"Your friend would be my friend, of
course."
Dan gave her a queer, searching look.
"Oh, that's it. The letter said, 'l'll
see you later,'" commented Clara.
"I thought your letter was from your
best girl," queried Olive.
"From my best friend," Dan corrected.
" I want you to like him. He's a big
hearted fellow. Pulled me through a
hard place when he was an utter stran
ger to me. We got to be chums after
wards."
"Then he is welcome on his own ac
count," said Olive.
"I hope so," returned Dan.
"Baste! It's time to baste!" cried Sue
as the oven door swung open again.
The girls were detailed to look after
the parlor and dining-room fires and to
set the table. They set up a lively chat
ter, getting in each other's way contin
ually, but what would Thanksgiving be
worth without a pleasant hubbub all
round!
You should have seen the table about
3 o'clock, broad and inviting, dinner
dishes with green turbaned groups under
blue palm trees spread over the damask
cloth, and blood-red beets, cranberry
sauce and apples, making dishes of color
all over it. Potatoes, changed from pink
to brown, stood on the platter, garnished
crisp and toothsome.
Dan's coining friend did not appear,
though a phce was set for him. But
everything was done to a turn and it was
voted they should sit down.
Dan attacked the four-footed dainty
with carving tools, plates were passed
round and filled and dinner went on
swimmingly.
Olive felt uneasy. The moment of
decision was drawing near. Her word
once passed to Squire Ashton, there could
be no backing out. She wished she
might remove the day still further. And
yet if she was going to marry him, why
delay?
' 'A young porker is better than a turkey
any day," said Dan unctuously.
"Aunt Olive is in love,'' said Sue, as
she passed her plate down to Dan to be
refilled. "She isn't eating a mouthful,
Dan; scoop out some stuffing that is nice
and hot, please."
"What in thunder is wedged in here?"
exclaimed Dan, as he proceeded to
"scoop," and a small tin box fell from
she porker upon the platter with a jin
gle.
"The summer savory box," said Olive.
"Whose trick was that? I might have
known—"
"Please send the box up on my plate,"
interrupted Sue.
Four and twenty boxes
Baking in a pig,
Bess chanted merrily.
She wrenched the cover from the box
and took out the letter she had hidden
there. "Here's your love letter. Aunt
Olive," she said, passing it up to the
head of the table.
Four and twenty love letters
Browning in a porker,
cried Clara.
"We found it in Robinson Crusoe's
clutches." explained Sue.
With a puzzled face Olive slipped her
knife through the browned envelope
and took out the letter. They taw her
face change as she glanced over it.
This was the message that came to her
from the past:
DEAK OLIVE— Must the unkind wor Is of
last evening be our last ones? I am hot
tempered and you are proud,- but if I could
see you once again before I sail you might
reverse your decision. If I may come this
evening hang your red shawl from your
chamber window as a signal. If I cannot
part from you as a lover 1 shall never come
back again. PHII.II'.
The look in Oiive's face as she read the
message hushed the voluble tongues of
the girls effectually.
"A letter," she said to Dan with the
ghost of' a smile, "that I should have
received ten years ago."
"Perhaps it reached you in the nick
of time after all," he suggested cheerily.
Olive shook her her negatively. This
was the word she had longed for after
her quarrel with Philip Ellenwood lone;
ago. She had been anxious to reverse
her decision, but she was too proiul to
make the first venture. She had thought
bitterly he did not care, and now here
was his letter giving the lie to her doubt.
She recalled the long, lonely tramp
she had taken to battle do .rn her feelings
Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months.
the day before he sailed. A messenger
must have brought the note in her ab
sence, and her father had slipped it be
tween the pages of "Robinson Crusoe"
and forgotten it. What a mockery it
was now.
In proportion as Olive became grave
Dan grew hilarious, and with his eye on
her face told sea yarns in such happy
style that the girls giggled until their
sides ached.
The November evening closed in with
a snow storm, and a lamp was brought
before they got through with the nuts
and raisins.
"I wonder what keeps—" Dan was be
ginning when the knocker sounded.
"There he is now," he finished.
"No, it is Squire Ashton's knock,"
said Bess with conviction, as she rose to
open the door and show the Squire into
the parlor.
His arrival was a shock to Olive. The
past had claimed her. The reading of
the letter had made her heartsick. Dan
watched her unquiet face with much
satisfaction as she arose from the table.
He followed her to the parlor door.
"Don't you promise to marry Squire
Ashton," he whispered instinctively.
"Mind, now, or you will be sorry."
She looked puzzled.
"Goon," said Dan, opening the par
lor door for her. "I can trust you."
The Squire stood before the open fire,
holding out his hands to the blaze. He
came toward her.
"You will give me 'Yes' at last," he
said persuasively.
She could not meet his eloquent, ex
pectant eyes. A great pity for him and
for herself came over her. The old Love
was yet alive. And yet why should rhc
not hide in the shelter of this noble heart?
Philip was far away—dead perhaps. The
old, overpowering loneliness was sweep
ing over her.
"If you will accept respect and es
teem for love—"she began in a trembling
voice.
The knocker sounded a double rnp,
quick and imperative. Dan had opened
the door. His voice and another sounded
in the hallway. Through the half open
door she could see Dan helping remove a
snowy overcoat. Ilis friend had come.
Had Lolly kept the dinner hot?
But the hospitable thought took sudden
flight as she saw who it was that Dan
was ushering in. Philip was before her,
brown, matured, with the same imperi
ous manner as of old, the same clear,
flashing eyes.
"Miss Blossom, my chum, Sir. Ellen
wood," said Dan in high good humor.
Their hands met; their eyes read each
other's hearts, as they stood in the fire
light glow.
Squire Ashton extended his hand.
"So you have come back to us, Philip,''
he said, with a brave smile covering the
pain in his heart. He had seen in Olive's
face the reason why he had failed to win
her.
"Yes, homesickness got the upper
hand of me at last,' - returned Philip,
cheerily.
Olive followed the Squire into the
hallway.
"I am very sorry, 7 ' she began.
"And lam glad for you," he said
hastily. "I hope you will be very hap
py," and he gave her a brave, warm
hand grasp.
You may guess how they all gathered
round the table again while Philip ate
his dinner. The finding of the letter
was recounted, and Dan confessed that
he and Philip had talked the matter all
over before, and that he had been
"prospecting 1 ' and reporting accordingly.
Iu the Land of the Turk.
"Take iue in out of the wet."
A Thanksgiving Cry.
'•I wish they'd hurry up that turkey."
NO. 6.
INSPIRATION.
Warrow and steep the pathway we must
tread.
And even then the crown may be of thorn.
Which all the years thereafter must be
borne,
Till silence numbers us among the dead;
Hard must we toil to win this bitter bread.
And through the clear flash of the radiant
morn,
Oft see the clouds, with edges tempest torn,
Rise in dense gloom, by disappointment led.
Yet is not all this strife a better gift
Thau aimless wanderings through sunlit
days?
Does not each upward struggle serve to lift
The soul to where God's clearer radiance
plays.
Till through some stern and rock-embattled
rift,
We reach at last life's firm and level ways?
—Thomas S. Collier,in Youth's Companion.
HUMOR OP THE DAY.
Unless a man is agreeable to all the
women he meets they go around pitying
his wife.— Atchison Olobt.
U—"What makes Smith so straightl"
I—"I don't know, unless it is his circum
stance?."— Texas Siftingt.
Austin has a very precise business man
who never pays a visit without demand
ing a receipt for it.— Texas Siftingt.
Marriage is not a lottery; it is a raffle.
One man {jets the prize, while the others
get the shake.— lndianapolis Journal.
Book Agent—l have just the kind of
work you waut." Chappie—"But my
deah fellow, I don't want work of any
kind."— lndianapolis Journal.
First Girl (proudly)—" Our baby can
say pa and ma." Second Girl—"Dat's
nuffia. My cousin, wot's rich, 'us got
er wax one wot kin do dat."— Life.
Of all the queer men of the times
And unto cranks the nearest,
The man who asks you questions is
Undoubtedly the querist.
—Munsey's Weekly.
Mrs. Dobbins (reading)—" Countess
Maria von Kensky, of Bohemia, has
bagged 138 hares in one day." Dobbins
—"Her husband will soon bo baldheaded
at that rate."— Epoch.
"Kitty," said the lover, as they sat in
the dark corner of the piazza—"Kitty,
close your eyes." "Why so, George?"
"If you don't everybody will be able to
sec us."— Harper's Bazar.
An exchange says there are 250,000
women married anuually in London.
The average Seattle woman thinks her
self lucky if she is married four times in
a lifetime.— Seattle Press.
"Dream on, dream on," tbe singer cried.
And roused him from his trance —
"Oh, how I wish that you," he
"VVould give me half a chance. '
Washington Post.
A Canadian doctor has just been testi
fying that a murdered man's heart
stopped "right in the middle of a beat."
That's nothing; policemen often do the
same thing. Utica Herald.
She—"There goes poor Miss Price with
her fiance. Why, the man is old enough
to be her father and ugly enough to be
her brother!" He—"Oh, but he is rich
enough to be her husband."— Life.
A student who acted as a waiter at a
White Mountain hotel the past summer is
nbout to marry the daughter of a family
at whose table he served. All things
come to him who waits.— Boston Pott.
Silver and gold bands for the hair are
very popular among fashionable ladies,
but the brass baud makes more noise in
the world—especially if it contains a bass
drum and a bassoon.— Jewelers' Circular.
He's surely a difficult person to kill,
His frame seems of adamant;
He's dying each day, but remains with us
still,
The "oldest inhabitant."
—Boston Courier.
Miss Passce (examining the medal of a
recent graduate)—"l have a medal, too."
Young Friend—"You have? Why on
earth don't you wear it?" Miss Passee
(with a sigh)—"l would, but I can't get
the date oil of it."— Uarjier's Bazar.
He—"Shall we marry in October or
April?" She (carelessly)—" Really, I
don't know. Let's toss up and see." He
(feeling in his pockets)—"By Jove, I
haven't a penny." She (frigidly)—"Ah?
It isn't necessary to toss."— New Tork
World.
Smithers (who had just proposedl—
"Why do you smile? Is my proposition
so utte. ly ridiculous that " Lizette
—"Not at all, Mr. Smithers. lam only
looking pleased. I bet Mr. Hicks a box
of candy I'd have the refusal of you with
in a week."— New Tork Sun.
A young man had been talking to a
bored editor for quite a quarter of an
hour, and at last observed: "Thero are
some things in this world that go wituuu.
saying." "Yes," said the editor, "and
there are still more persons in the world
who say a good deal without going."—
London Globe.
Miss Terriut—"When mommer and I
were in Yurrup, oh, the awfulest thing
happened ! There was a princo—and a
count—and—and they fought a duel—
about poor me—with pistols." Yabsley
—"Ah! were they loaded?" Miss Ter
riut—"No, they weren't! They were
just :is sober as could be."— lndianapolis
Journal.
Mils Flora (forty-five aud homely)—
"Oil, Mr. Blunt, I had such a strange
dream Inst night." Mr. Blunt—"What
was it, Miss Flora?" Miss Flora—"l
dreamed that we were married and on
our wedding tnur. Hid you ever have
such a dreaiu?" Mr. Blunt (energetically)
—"No, indeed. I never had the night
mare in my life.''—ZVftM bifLings.