SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. M, CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. IX. The cultivation of oysters promises to be as great an industry as that of can ning tomatoes. The Chicago Times alleges that it has cost Michigan §220,000, or SII,OOO each, to graduate twenty young men from her State mining-school at Hough ton. The New Orleans Picayune observes: "Though much is said about the de cadence of New England during the last ten years the population has increased more than during any other decade in all its history." Two hundred thousand dollars a year nre spent by the London (England) School Board in enforcing the attendance of children. They are advised, by the Boston Transcript, to try the French plan of getting children to school by good lunches. "If you are going to kill a man,"says an English surgeon of renown, "and want to do it quickly and without suffer ing, hang him. If the hangman knows his business, the victim does not feel as much pain as if shot through the heart or train. It's all over in the tenth of a second." The discovery of the full text of Aris tottle's "Treatise on the Constitution of Athens" among a lot of Egyptian papy rus recently received by the British Museum of London, hazards the San Fran cisco Chronicle , will be of great interest to all classical scholars. Perhaps the next lucky find wili be the lost books of Livv. Great anxiety is felt in Switzerland concerning the decadence of tho watch making industry, which, next to the tex tile industry, is the mainstay of the in habitants of the couutry. The profits are dwindling down, as the United States and England are every year be coming more powerful rivals in thi3 field. The demand, too, for Swiss watches is falling off considerably in cer tain countries, notably in this country and in France. "The machinery now in use by the life saving service is about as perfect," asserts tiic Mail and Express, "as anything well can b9. The crows of the various stations often perform the seemingly im possible in their brave and well directed efforts. Without their assistance and the means they have at their command hundreds of lives would have been lost on our coast during the latter part of j December. In view of the heroism shown j and the severe physical labor required of j them, our life savers are not sufficiently paid. These men daily literally take their lives in their hands, and we do not j sufficiently esteem their services." Pennsylvania is taking an important step in the direction of better roads; a step that, in the opinion of the New- York Tribune, every State should take. Railroad traveling has become so general and so perfect that the eomjion high ways of the land are largely overlooked. Yet on them is the vast bulk of traveling and transporting done, after all, and upon their condition depend to an in calculable extent the comfort and con venience and prosperity of the vast bulk of the people. The improvement of county roads is a topic that should stand well toward the head of the list in every legislative assembly, until wo have brought ourselves at least to an equality with the Romans of two thousand years "go. If the discoveries made by the State Dairy Commissioner of New Jersey afford an example of tho deleterious mixtures we eat and drink in Now York, there is well-founded reason for alarm, con fesses the New York News. According to his report, 2180 samples of food, drugs and dairy products were examined during the year 1891), and of that num ber 468 samples were found to be adul terated. Out of 190 samples of cream of tartar, sixty were within the require ments of the law. More than a third of the lard was impure. Forty out of fifty bags of coffee were bogus. Frauds were found in canued French peas, jellies, honey and olive oil. In ten lots of mus tard, not one was pure; pepper was an abomination,and of 110 samples of drugs, such as ate used in every family, forty four samples were adulterated. Figures like the foregoing possess a lively interest and if a similar condition of the things exist, on this side of the Hudson, the public would like to know the fact, and M*the remedy promptly applied. LIFE. Onr life, our life is like a narrow raft Afloat upon the hungry sea; Hereon is but a little space, And ail men, eager for a place, Do thrust each other in the sea; And each man, eager for a place, Does thrust his brother in the sea. And so our life is wan with fears, And so the sea is salt with tears. Ah, well isthee, thou artasleepl Ah, well is thee, thou art asleep! Our life, our life is like a curious play. Where each man hideth from himself. "Let us be open as the day," One mask does to the other say, When he would deeper hide himself. "Let us be open as the day." That he may better hide himself. And so the world goes rouud and round, Until our life with rest is crowned. Ah, well is thee, thou art asleep! Ah, well is thee, thou art asleep! —The Path. THE ROOMMATES. BY JOHN B. RAYMOND. Henry Hadley and John Ashton had roomed together for six months, but had never exchanged a word. There wae no quarrel between them; they were not deaf mutes; they were normal, every-day young men, and one, at least, longed ardently to hear the other's voice. It came about in this way: Hadley was a reporter on the Nem-UeraM , where he had filled a certain round of dry-as-dust assignments for years and was not much liked by his associates. He had a tend ency to drudg#; he wore faint "mutton chop" side-wliiskers and turned up the bottoms of his trousers when it rained. But he was really a capital fellow, and in spite of his prosiac exterior he had a little romance of his own. He was en gaged to be married, and Alice Tyler was a girl of whom any one might weil be proud. She was the niece of a friend of Hadley's, and when he proposed to her, after a long, despairing courtship, he was astounded to find himself ac cepted. Ii seemed incredible that such a perfect creature could ever be his own, but after he had somewhat recovered from Lis transports his practical nature asserted itself, and he begau to retrench his expenses in preparation for the event. Thus it was that he eventually answered an advertisement for a room-mate. It so happened that the other occupant of the room was also a reporter, although a very different stamp of man. John Ashtou was a meteoric genius. He was a waif from dead and gone Bohemia. His forte was the strange, the odd, and the grotesijue, and his startling and un looked-for strokes had gone far toward making the Chronicle famous. In his field he was invaluable, and he had long since killed his chance for promotion by merit ing it too much. The News-Herald, as everybody knows, is published in the afternoon, while the Chronicle is a morning daily, and llad lcy, who had made his arrangements through the landlady, was disappointed, when he awoke early on the first day in his new quarters, to find that his room mate, who had let himself in sometime during the night, was then asleep in the little alcove opposite his own. lie had promised himself much pleasure from the society of a man whose work he so much adtuired, but the pale, handsome face and slight form, relaxed in the lan guor of deep sleep, prompted him to dress as quietly as possible and slip out without awakening the other. It turned out, to Hadlcy's infinite chagrin, and probably to Ashton's secret amusement, that this was no mere acci dent. The former went to work early in the morning and his duties ended when the big presses threw out the first copy of the last edition, at about dusk. Ashtou, on the other hand, arose a little after noon, lounged about until dark,and left his desk any time between one and three o'clock at night. Consequently, when he reached the room he invariably found Hadley asleep, and when he awoke he was the only occupant. And vice versa. Several things conspired to main tain this fantastic relationship. Their offices were remote from one another. Their work was essentially different. It did not make common resorts or mutual friends. So it easily chanced that by day they never met. Such was the curious train of events which had carried them through one summer and into an autumn that brought to Hadley many a miserable heartache. A shadow had somehow fallen across the honest fellow's love affair. It was hard ly to be defined in terms; that was the worst of it—it was so intangible; so dif ficult to say just what was wrong. There was a change in Alice. She was silent; she was distraught; her tears came and went like April rain. Yet she protested that nothing was amiss, and met his well-meant questioning with an impa tience that surprised and frightened him; for he did not know very much of wo men, and her asseverations sounded to his ears like conlessions in disguise. Above all, he felt a cumbersome unfit ness to cope with the situatiou. It was like a plow-boy essaying to probe a sen sitive wound, and at length he feared to speak lest he should precipitate some un known crisis- Thus it was, wh<>n at dusk one autumn day he walked from the office to Alice's home to pay one of liis customary visits. It was an indolent evening, suave with thes|iell of Indian summer, and through the dreamy haze that wrapped the city even the hum of traffic sounded faint and harmonious, like a choir of giant inseots LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, MARCH 27, 1891. at the approach of night. He fell into a vague reverie as he walked on, and when he stopped mechanically before the house he did not ring at once, but sat down upon a little bench just within the gate and masked by lila*-bushes. The narcotic calm of the scene and hour had lulled him into serenity, and night fell unmarked, until, ut length, a familiar voice broke in upon his medita tions. He recognized it on the instant as Alice's, but it was mingled with deeper tones that were unfamiliar to him. Although no words had yet detached themselves from the tangle of sound, it seemed to liim that one voice was urging and one remonstrating. Presently they came nearer and stopped by the gate. "Oh, I cannot I I caunot!" some one cried. It was Alice's voice, and although there was not a jot of the spy in Hadley's nature, something in the intonation held him spell-bound. "But why not?" said the other voice, u melodious baritone—low, persuasive, thrilling. "But why not? It was a con ditional promise; the conditions have changed and that is " "No; it is not that," broke in the girl. She was speaking quietly, but a pathethic little quaver ran through her words. "Oh, can't you understand! He is honest and true, and I could not break his heart!" A moisture sprang on Hadley's fore head and very slowly he opened and closed his hands. There was pause, and then the pleasant baritone again: "Are there no rivers in Damascus? What of ray heart, Alice?" Hadley heard no more. Something seemed to suffocate him. His breath went no further than than his throat, and the dusky web of lilac-branches danced in black and shapeless phantasmagoria be fore his eyes. He was dimly conscious of a patter of feet, a wave of perfume, and gush of yellow light as the hall door clashed open and shut, and then he knew he was alone again. Alone! A hideous.sense of loss, and bitter,hopeless desolation, such as he had never felt and never dreamed of, over whelmed him. He did not think; he did not dare to think. He staggered to his feet, opened the gate and passed out. To run away, to elude this thing as if it was some sentient, palpable pursuer, was the first impulse that possessed him, and he hurried on, blindly, stumblingly, he cared not where. How far he walked thus he had no means of knowing, but when he stopped it was on a thronging thoroughfare, before the window a gieat j emporium, aquivcr with eloctric lights, j He drew a long breath and pulled him- j self together. An illuminated dial that j punctured the gloom of tho upper air marked after midnight, and a faintness j began to assail hiin, a duadly reaction , that turned bis knees to water. The j careless, alien crowd jarred on him, the j barbaric spendor of the windows smote ■ upon his brain; ho wanted to be alone, \ and presently he saw the open.doorway j of a cafe and entered. A few people sat at tables ihere and there, and on oue hand wc eo the cur tained doorways of a row of 18ttle rooms or stalls. He walked instinctively toward one of these and drew the drapery aside. A man within, who was musing, apparently, over a bottlo and a half-eaten meal, turned at tho, sound, and the room-mates looked one«-another in the face. Asliton was the first to recover him self, and sprang up with outstretched hand. "Why, my dear fellow 1" he exclaimed, "Am I indebted to insomnia for this pleasure?" Hadley took his hand absently, but did not at once reply. What was there about that voice, with its plausible, vi brating timbre, that thrilled him so? "I have been a little troubled," he said, hesitatingly, "and tried to—walk it off." "Ha! And came in here,.l dare say, to drown it in drink, as the proverb goes. My word for it, troaible is the thirstiest thing on earth. I tried to drown a small sorrow in drink once, and when I was under the table there was the sorrow, sober as a judge. But I'll tell you something, Hadley, it won't stand feeding. The proper thing to drown sorrow in is mutton chops and fried po tatoes. Suppose we put..'it to the touch. Waiter 1" " "Hold!" said Hadley, who.burned to stop this badinage, "I am not hungry— not in the least. Let me sit down a mo ment and think." He sank into a vacant cliaar and gazed at the other with a sudden, haggard io tontness. A thought had just occurred to his distracted mind. Why'was not this man, so bright, so versatile, so self contaiued, so en rapport with the great world and its usages—why was not he the very man of all men to give him counsel in this predicament? "Asliton," he said, "I am in.distress. Will you give me your advice?" Ashton smiled grimiy. "You have come to a good shop for advice." he said. "My whole life is more or less a warning. However, if I can be of any service to you, blaze away. Out with it, my boy!" But Hadley did not find the story so easy to tell. "I am engaged to be married," he said, at length. "Ho! ho!" cried Ashton. "I forsee a stem paient with a prejudice against literary characters." Then something iu the other's face checked him, and he dropped his toue of levity. "Forgive me,'' he said, gCDtly. "What is this trouble of yoursf You need not men- tion the lady's name, of course. Make it a hypothetical case. 1 ' "Oh, no!" said Hadley, "I can con fide in you. She is the best girl in the world. Her name is Alice Tyler." Ashton was leaning over the table toying with a glass, but at the words he rose involuntarily and fixed his eyes upon the other with strange and challenging regard. Hadley paused for a moment with a dim and troubled conscience that he bad touched some hidden spring; but only for a moment, and then, slowly and incoherently, he told his story. Ashton sank back as he proceeded and heard bim in silence to the end. "Do you know this man?" he asked, when it was done. "No," replied Hadloy, gloomily. "What does it matter who he is?" Ashton did not reply; he seemed lost in thought. "Hadley," he demanded, suddenly, "do you really intend to marry this girl? But pshaw?" he continued, "you are too honest to be a trifler. And this fellow —why, a thousand to one he is amusing himself looking for a new sensation, and has no more use for a wife than he would have for a bishopric. You must have saved some money, have you not?" "Yes," said Hadley, rather surprised; "I have a few thousand dollars in bank." "Well," sighed Ashton, "this is a world of fact, but we can't all grasp it. Some men are made for homes and some are not. I might have ten times your income, and the last chapter would find me a vagabond. I tell you, Hadley, you have no real rival. This is a shadow that has already passed, and shadows leave no trace." "What shall I do?", he asked. "Do? Why, do nothing. For heaven's sake don't distress the girl with questions. I toll you this belongs to the past. For get it. Bury it. Act as if nothing had happened, and all will come right in tho end. If I were you I would make it con venient to bo away foi a few days. She will miss you, depend upon it, and you can begin where you left off. Can't you arrange togo away?" "I think so," said Hadley. "When had I best go?" "Go to-morrow. You will como back n new man and find her eager to welcome you." Hadley reflected a moment. "I will take your advice," be said. When he returned home, at the close of the week, from a brief visit to a neigh boring city, he mounted the stairs with eager step, but paused, perplexed, in the open door. The room was dismantled of much of its furniture, and looked bare and unfamiliar. He entered, almost timidly, and read this legend, chalked upon the looking-glass: KEEP WHAT TRAPS OF MINE YOU FIND. HAVE MIGIIATKD. GONE WEST. GOOD-BYE. GOOD LUCK TO YOU. J. A. "It was an extraordinary thing," he used to say in after times, when he and Alice were happily mated. "Here was a brilliant, successful man, with the world before him, one might say, who pulls up stakes all of a sudden, goes out West, goes to the dogs, and inside a year winds up in a dance-lmll fight with a bullet through his head. No, I can't say why he did it; he never mentioned it to me, although we roomed together over six months."— Frank Leslie's. Frozen COO Feet Deep. For many year 3 scientists have been perplexed over the phenomenon of a cer tain well at Yakutsk, Siberia. As long ago as 1828 a Russian merchant began to sink this noted well, anl after working on it three years gave it up as a bad job, having at that time sunk it ton depth of thirty feet without getting through the frozen-ground. lie communicated these facts to the Russian Academy of Science, who sent men to take charge of the dig ging operation at the wonderful well. These scientific gentlemen toiled away at their work for several years, but at last abandoned it when a depth of 382 feet had beeu reached with tho earth still frozen as hard as a rock. In 1844 tho academy had the temperature of the soil at the sides of tho well taken at various depth. From the data thus obtained they came to the startling conclusion that the ground was frozen to a depth exceed ing 600 feet. Although it is known to meteorologists that the pole of the low est known temperature is in that region of Siberia, it is conceded that not even that rigorous climate could force frost to such a great depth below the surface. After figuring on tho subject for over a quarter of century geologists have at last come to tho conclusion that the great frozen valley of the Lena River was de posited, frozen just as it is found to-day, during the gref.c grinding up era of the glacial epoch.— Chicago Herald. Uniting Aliiminnm With Glass. Bradford McGregor, the mechanical export of Cincinnati, Ohio, has succeeded after numerous experiments in uniting aluminum with glass, and he claims to be ,the first who has done so. A large pifce of aluminum with a glass tube in ttjte centre was turned in his lathe and it wfes impossible to detect tho slightest flfcw or joint where they aamo together, lh fact, it appears as one solid mass, ■eretofore, no metal could be made to i nite with glass in which the contrac t on and expansion were the same, and i is claimed this will create a revolution i the way of reducing tho cost of incan escent lights as it will take the place of latinum, which cosCo $320 a pound, rhile the new discovery will not cost $lO. —2ieic Orleans Times-Democrat. Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months A New Roane's Dodge. Individuals who live by putting theii hands into other people's pockets and appropriating for their own uses what they may happen to find in them ar« obliged to invent new tricks to facilitate their operations, and one of the latest, which is new, at ali events in Paris, seems to have answered tho purpose on several occasions. Gentlemen in Paris are, however, now warned, and probably in futureiwill be on their guard when a stranger seemingly accidentally runs up agninst them. The respectable-looking stranger who acts in this way manages, it appears, to throw the end of a lighted cigar into tho pedestrian's great coat pocket, and, after apologizing for his clumsiness, he goes away, the well dressed pedestrian being, of course, quite unaware of the trick that has been played on him. A few minutes later a couple of strangers hurry up to him, ex claiming: "Monsieur, your overcoat is on fire;" and, with the utmost polite ness, they squeeze and compress tho burning cloth, profiting, it is needless to say, by the opportunity to relieve the pocket of whatever of value it may con tain. Several persons have, it is stated, been robbed in this way while walking on the boulevards, and before they dis covered their loss the pickpockets were (ost in the crowd. But in future, if some one stumbles up against a French man in the streets of Paris, he will prob ably, if he has heard of the trick, look to nee there is no lighted cigar end left in his coat pocket.— London Standard. "Chaiuing-up'' the Hudson. In 1778 a great chain was stretched icross the Hudson Kiver at West Point, N. Y., to prevent the passage of British vessels. Lossing, in his "Field Book of the Revolution," gives a very interesting iccount of this work, of which we ctn ijuote only the leading facts. The iron af which this chain was constructed was wrought from ore of equal parts from the Sterling and Long mines, in Orango County. The chain was manufactured by Peter Townsend, of Chester, at the Sterling Iron Works, in the same county, which were situated about tweDty-five Miles back of West Point. "It is Duoyed up," says Dr. Thacher, writing in 1780, "by very large logs, about six teen feet long, pointed at the ends, to eusen their opposition to the torcc of the :urrent at flood and ebb tides. The logs were placed at short distances from each sther, tho chaiu carried ovei v theffi and nade fast to each by staples. There are ilso a number of anchors dropped at proper distances, with cables made fast !o the chain to givo it greater stability." The total weight of this chain was 180 ;ons. Mr. Lossing visited West Point n 1818 and saw a portion of this famous :hain, and he tells us that "there are ;welve links, two devices and a portion >f a link remaining. The links, some of which are in the museum at West Point, ire made of iron bars, two and a halt inches square, and average in length a little over two feet and weigh about 100 oounds each."— Scientific American. Marvelous Piece of Mechanism. Another marvelous piece of mechan ism has recently been exhibited in Paris. It is an eight-day clock, which chimes the quarters, plays sixteen tunes, play ing three tunes every hcur, or at any in terval required, by simply touching a ipring. The hands go as follows: One ance a minute, one once an hour, one ance a week, oue once a month and one ance a year. It shows the moon's age, rising and setting of the sun, the time sf high and low tide, besides showing lialf ebb and half flood. A curious de vice represents the water, showing ships »t high-water tide as it they were in notion; and, as it recedes, leaves them tiigh and dry on the sands. The clock shows the hour of the day, the day of the week, the day of the month and the nonth of the year. The mechanism is to arranged as to make its own pro visions for long and short mouths. It ilso shows the signs of the zodiac and 3ifZercncc between sun and railroad time for every day in the year.— Boston Trail tcript. The Wonderful "Changeable Flower." During the summer of 1890 the bot anists made a wonderful discovery in Tehuantepec,Mexico, having established the fact beyond a doubt that the native "hinta" has a flower that changes its color three or more times each day when the weather is favorable. In the morn ing it is white; at noon it has changed to a deep red; at night it is blue. It is eveD claimed that some individual trees of this species have a flower that changes to many intermediate hues dur ing the night. There are only two hours out of the twenty-four, from 11 K. M. to Ip. M., that this rarity gives out a perfume.— St. Louis Republic. A Mammoth Tree. There is an enormous tree in the Ocmul gee River swamp, near Abbeville, that rivals the famous giants of the Cali fornia forest. The tree is of the tupelo gum variety, and towers above the sur rounding forest of immense oaks. It is ovidently of great age, and doubtless was inhabited by the Indians in the pre historic age of this country. The tree is hollow at the base with an aperture large enougii to admit a tall man. The hollow extends upward for a distance of fifteen feet, affording space enough for two stories. The hollow at the base is twelve feet in diameter.— Abbeville (Oa.) Timet. NO. 24. SOME THINGS LOVE ME. All within and all without me Feel a melancholy thrill; And the darkness hangs about me. Oh, how still; To my feet the river glideth Through the shadow, sullen, dark; On the stream the white moon ridetb. Like a barque— And the linden leans above me. Till I think some things there be In this dreary world that love me. Even me! Gentle buds are blooming near me. Shedding sweetest breath around; Countless voices rise, to cheer me. From the ground; And the lone bird comes —I hear it In the tall and windy pine Pour the sadness of its spirit Into mine; There it swings and sings above mo. Till I think somo things there be In this dreary world that love me. Even me! Now the moon hath floated to me, On the stream I see it sway, Swinging, boat-like, as't would woo m« Far away— And the stars bend from the azure, I could reach them where I lie. And they whisper all the pleasure Of the sky. There they hang and smilo above me, Till I think somo things there be, In the very heavens that love me, Even me! —T. B. Head, in Analostan Magazine. HUMOR OF THE DAY. There is a vast difference between liv ing simply and simply living.— St. Joseph Newt. Soldiers see a great deal of private life, but they don't enjoy it.— Fitt&burg Det paleh. The only man contented with his lot occupies it in the cemetery.— lndianapolis Journal. When it is an ud vantage to tiade po3ts. every array officer ia ready to become a post trader.— Texai Si/tings. Experience has established the fact that lawsuits are more -wearing on a man than any otbar.— Boston Courier. Bhc—"What -would you like—being a naval man—for a birthday gift?" He— "A little smack."— Drake's Magazine. If smokeless powder is followed by gunlesß bullets, wats of the future will be made easy.— New Orleans Picayune. The teacher whacked the boy, one day. Who disoboyed the rule. The scholars did not laugh or play To see that Innnn in school. —Harvard Lampoon. Miss Burdy—"Yes, I will be yours on one condition." Jack Junior—"That's all right. I entered Yale with six."— Yale Record. Mike—"Why do them false eyes be made of glass, now?" Pat—"Shure, ,in' how else could thoy say throo 'em,ye thick-head?"— Yale Record. After one girl has given you the sack and another the mitten, it is time to give up trying to gaiu your suit on the instal ment plan.— Halifax Critic. Hilow—"Look look here, Bloobuin per, I wouldn't be a fool if I were you." Bloobumper—"No; if you were me you wouldn't be a fool."— Epoch. "Pa, what is an auction!" "An auc tion, my son, is a place where a man pays an exorbitant price for something he don't want and can't use."— Epoch. Life drives us till we're out of breath With striving, begging, giving. Wo have to work ourselves to death That we may get a living. —Chicago Post. "Suggest a motto for my new business venture, will you, Miss Agnes?" "What is the business?" "A dairy farm." "Then suppose you take'lctwell alone'." The Jester. Quericus —"How does your friend ex pect to derive any benefit from being elected an honorary member of the foot ball team?" Prcttiwit—"He's a doctor." Chicago News. Wibble—"Yes, I believe in the office seeking the man." Wabble—"l notice that it usually has to seek the boy. At least that is the case in my office."— lndianajwlis Journal. A book agent—he came inside; He stuck to tlu< man like glue, But spite of all hints and nods and winks, Never lelt till he got threw. —Chicago Globe. Giles—"l'm glad I let that fellow have the small loau. He seemed overwhelmed with gratitude and said he could never repay me." Merritt—"That was strange. He told you the truth."— Chicago Nttcs. "You are the light of my life," she said to him as she told him good-night at the front door. "Put out that light," growled her father at the head of the stairs, and the front door slammed.— Washington Star. "Let us see, a cynic is a man who is tired of the world, is ho not?" the youag language student asked. "No, no, my child," replied the knowing tutor. "A cynic is a mau of whom the world is tired.."— Hilwa ukee Sentinel. The optimist sees but the roses of life, The thorns meet the pessimist'* view. But the sensible man with an ?yo to the facts Notes and knows hov.- to handle tho two. —Philadelphia Press. "I see that in the preface of your book you say that it is written ti fill a long-felt want. What do you mean by that?" "Why, I' ve beon needing a square meal for the last t>i rhtecu mouths. Don't you call that a waui?' — Chicago News.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers