SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W M, CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. X. Wheat harvesting in Egypt this year showed that the crop of the world's an cient granety to be excellent both foj quantity and quality. The great problem of picking cotton by machinery has been solved, announces the New York World. The machine in vented by Willis Lispenard is a glorious triumph of human ingenuity. A plague of locusts have besn worrying the farmers in the Argentine Republic. Late reports state that the locusts have completely destroyed the ilax, wheat and potato crops in San Geronimo and Santo Touias. Out in Mashonaland, South Africa, butter is $3.10 a pound; jam and milk, §1.50 a tin; cheese, GO a pound; and brandy has been sold for $19.50 a bottle. Aud with this prospecting is very poor, no gold being discovered. li. S. Witherbee, who is known as the "Sapphire King of Montana," says "Inside of five years I thoroughly believe the value of precious stones produced in Montana will equal the vaaie of the au nual output of all the preeiou3 metals produced in the country." Although the soil of Mexico aud its tropical location are both favorable tc agricultural, the lack of energy of its working population, combined with the lack of a sufficient water supply, neutra lizes its geographical location, and the production of corn, beaus, coffee, sugar, and other kinds of products arc barely sufficient to supply the home demand. The City Court of Wiuona, Minn., has just rendered a decision in the case of Susan Jones, a school teacher, who was tried on the charge of assaulting Willie Forb, one of her pupils. The teacher had whipped him for some misdemeanor, and the prosecution held that she had no lawful right to do so. The court de cided that the teacher lir*d a right to whip the pupils, at her discretion, so long as the punishment was not brutal and excessive. They are talking in Cleveland, Ohio, of drawing fresh water from the lake by building a steel tunnel two and a half miles out from the shore. Au engineer representing a company went before the B >ard of Control the other day and dc- ' scribed how the work could be done. The tuuuel, he said, would be built of steel, one-half inch thick, in sections one thousand feet in length and eight and one-half feet in diameter. Bulkheads would be putin at each joint. Each ■ection would be filled with air and could be floated out to the place where it is necessary to sink it. All the sections would be joined together by men work ing on rafts. The entire length of two and a half miles would be sunk in a solid piece by opening the manhales and pull ing out the bulkheaks. The manholes would then be closed by a mechanical contrivance. The tunnel would cost half as much as one of brick, and the com pany offers to lay it in the lake in four months. It has been estimated that the construction of a brick tunnel would take four years. The Board of Control is dis posed to favor the proposal. The cultivation of the thin shell pecan has, according to the New York Post, become one of the most profitable in dustries of Texas. The tree begin 3to bear nuts when six years old; at eight it more than pays all expenses of grow ing, and at ten yields a handsome profit. The demand in the market is much greater than the supply. The following glittering prospect is held out to the farmer by a pccan-growcr of experience: "Fifty acres in pecans will, when ten years old, bring him an income equal to a bank with a capital of $300,030 earn ing ten per cent. In California, fruit lands sell at S3OO to §SOO per acre. At prices the value will be earned in five years; in six years they earn tea per cent, on a valuation of SIOOO to §SOOO per acre, and in ten years ten per cent, on a valuation of SIO,OOO per acre. When I say the pecan exceeds these figures largely, I am only saying what others who have investigated the profits on pecan-growing will confirm. The pecao. nut is a favorite everywhere. No fear ot growing more than can be sold, for,when the markets of the United States are sup plied, the markets of Europe will be ope.i for them. At one cent per pound they pay better than cotton will at ten cents per pound. Ten acres in pecans (the Texas thin-shell) will earn more clear ""•nfit t.han 500 will in cotton." THF. KEY OF CHRISTMAS LAND. Who has the key of the Christmas Land? Where the bonfiro shines, And the holly twines, Carollers sing—a merry band— And stars are bright o'er that fair strand— Who has the key of Christmas Land? Light are the hearts in Christmas Land; In each group you meet There are faces sweet. Bosoms young and guileless are there, And brows not yet wrinkled with care— Who has the key of Christmas Land? Dear baby hearts in Christmas Land, We want to be near, And join in your cheer When the tree with its strange fruit bends. And you wait for what Santa sends— Who has the key of Christmas Land? Love has the key of Christmas Land, Oh' come, Cherub Love, With wings like the dove, Spread over hearts thy light of peace, Sow for a harvest full of increase— Open the gates of Christmas Land. Open the gates of Christinas Land; There is much to do And the days are few. Bid all men set Charity free; By thy grace, let us see there bo None of God's poor in Christmas Land. William Lulc. A MAD CHRISTMAS BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM. If there is one thing more than another when a bachelor commences to doubt whether his state of single blessedness is the most desirable form of existence it is at Chnstmas time. The joys of the sea son are essentially domestic joys; and every one is either looking forward to convivial meetings with a circle of rela tions and friends or a happy reunion with his own family. At such a time a middle-aged bachelor with no relations feels rather out of it. Now, although I must plead guilty to ten years of bachelorhood, I never was one of the misanthropical type. I was single (observe the past tense) not from principle, but merely from force of cir cumstances, and I was never addicted to shutting myself up with my books and a cat, and growling cynical remarks at the pleasure seeking world. On the con trary, I am of a somewhat jovial disposi tion, and was always fond of society. Christmas time I liked to spend at a jolly country house, and could turn iny mind to charades, dancing, romping with the villagers or children, conjuring and many other accomplishments. In fact, I may say with fine modesty that I once heard myself described by a country hostess as an "extremely useful sort of man." The idea of spending Christmas in any solitary rooms, with only my landlady and her domestic to talk to was a con tingency which I had nover contem plated for a moment; but last year I was very neatly brought face to face with it. I generally had at least two or three invitations to select from, and choee the one where I should be likalv to meet the most interesting set of people; but on this occasion my usual invitations did not arrive. The Har woods, with whom I had spent the Christmas before, had lost a child, and were in mourning; the Ilouldens were wintering at Nice (Mrs. Ilouldcn was delicate) And at Houghton Grange both the girls were married, and the Christ mas house parties were things of the past. These were my stock invitation; and as I recollected others among my circle of acquaintances to whom some thing or other had happened since last year it slowly dawned upon me that if I desired to avoid a Christmas in Lou don I had better make arrangements to remove myself either to a northern hy dropathic establishment which I had occasionally honored with my presence, or to d Brighton hotel, where I was sure of falling in with some pleasant com pany. Just as I had arrived at this melancholy decision, however, a letter arrived which afforded me the greatest "WITN MY BACK TOWARD THE ENGINE.' satisfaction. It was an invitation to spend a week or two wiih my old friend, Fred Halleton, at his place in Leicester shire; and with the vivid recollection before me of a pleasant Christmas spent at Gaulby Ilall some three years ago, I lost no time in penning a cordial assent to the welcome invitation. A few days later beheld me, followed by a porter carrying my various impediments, on the platform of St. Pancras, prepared to make my journey down to Leicester by the half-past three Manchester and Liv- LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1891. erpool express. The Pullman was crowded with a pack of noisy school boys, so I eschewed it and selected an empty first-class carriage. I took pos session of my favorite corner seat, with my back to the engine, and wrapping my leg round my knees aud unfolding a newspaper glided away from the city of smoke in a remarkably good humor, partly inspired, no doubt, by a capital lunch, and partly by pleasurable antici pations of my forthcoming visit. Fred met me at Leicester station, and I saw with regret that he was looking pale and ill and much thinner than when I had seen him last. He seemed pleased to see me, however, and greeted me warmly. "I'M GOING TO cni.cK HER DOWN." During our drive to Gaulby I hazarded a few remarks, with a view to ascertain ing what sort of a party there was col lected at the Hall, but I got nothing de finite out of him. He was quite unlike his old self, and I came to the conclusion that he must be ill. As we drove up the avenue I leaned out the window to gaze at the fine old mansion, and it struck me at once as looking cold and uninviting, while the grounds were certainly very much neglected. Something seemed wrorg all round, and I began to feel al - most sorry I had come. We overtook Mrs. Hallston at the hall door, just re turned from a walk. She was as gracious aud as pleasant as she had ever been to me, but I farcied that I could detect in her manner and appearance something of the ill being which seemed to exist around her. We all three entered together, and the moment we passed through the door I felt convinced that my expectations of a jolly Christmas party were doomed to dis appointment. There Here no decorations about, only one doleful looking servant and apparently nothing stirring. I felt sure something was wrong, but at any rate I consoled myself with the reflection that I had lost little by coming, as it had been a choice between here and the hotel. But, all the same, I did not feel particularly cheerful as I followed the doleful looking servant upstairs, along wide corridors, across passages, upstairs agaiu, aud then dowu a long corridor, until at last we reached my room in the west wing. My surmises were correct. When I descended, after prolonged and careful toilette, my host was lounging about in a shooting jacket aud he and his wife I were the only occupants of the room. I was the only guest. "I've something very serious to say to jou, Neillson," he -aid slowly (Neillson is ray name). "I'm going to make a confidant of you, if I may, old man." I bowed my head and listened. "You haven't noticed anything par- j ticular about my wife, I don't suppose, have you?" he asked, with a searching I glance. I admitted I had thought her straugely silent, and apparently having some anxiety weighing upon her mind. He laughed, a short unpleasant laugh, and leaned over to me confidentially. "I rely upon your discretion, you know, Neillson. I wouldn't have it known for the world; bnt my wife is mad." "Mad!" I stared at him incredulously. "Yes, mad," he repeated impatiently. "Ic was the sun in India last year that did the mischief. She would expose herself to it. The doctor whom I have consulted advised me to send her toa private asylum, but I haven't the heart to do it. She's perfectly harmless, you know; but, of course, it's an awful trial to me." I stammered out au expression of sym pathy. To tell the truth,l scarcely knew what to say. I was bewildered at this painful explanation of tho gloom which reigned over the house. Presently Fred closed his eyes and left me to digest this strange and unweleome piece of news. I am naturally somewhat selfish, and be fore very long my sympathy was diverted iu some measure from my host to my self. It occurred to me tha; it was by no means a pleasant prospect to be a guest in a house the mistress of which was mad. It was not altogether kind of Fred to invite me, I thought, under the circumstances, without some explana tion of his wife's state. I began to feel quite ac injured man. I was quite tired of my own company, and Fred was fast asleep. So I opened the door softly and made my way dowu to tho hall. As I passed an opeu door Mrs. Ilallaton ap peared and beckoned me in. I had no alternative but to obey her invitation. "Mr. Neillson," she said, in an agi tated tone, "as you are going to stop here for a day or two, there is some thing connected with this household which you ought to know. Has my husband told you anything?" I bowed and told her gravely that I knew all, and that she bad my profound est sympathy. She sighed. "Perhaps you are surprised that I should ask whether Fred had told you," she said, turning a little away from me. "It seems strange, doesn't it, that one should be mad and be conscious of it? It only comes on in fits, and they are terrible. She shuddered, and so, to tell tho truth, did I. "Such a phase of madness is probably not incurable," I ventured to suggest timidly. "Incurable! of course it is not incur able," she nnswered, vehemently. I edged a little toward the door. I had no experience in talking with luna tics, and felt anything but comfortable in my present position. Mrs. Ilallaton was beginning to look very excited and dangerous. "Of course if you are frightened, Mr. Neillson," she said a little contemptuous ly, "you can leave us whenever you please. These fits do not come on often, but they are anything but pleasant things to witness when they do come on." "I should imagine so," I assented, de voutly hoping a fit was not then pend ing. Soon I managed to make my adieu, and with a sigh of relief found myself once more in the hall. I mide my way to Eurdett's room, but he had gone to bed, and seeing it was nearly 11 o'clock, I decided togo to bed, and, preceded by a servant (I could never have found the way myself), I mounted again the wide stairs and threaded tho numerous passages which led to my room. It was at the end of a wide cor ridor, on either side of which were six doors. "Does any one sleep up here?" I asked the man as he bade me good night. He pointed to a door exactly opposite mine. "That is the masters room, sir," he replied; and the one at the bottom end is Mrs. Hallaton's. No one else sleeps in this part of the house. The servants' rooms are all in the north wing." I am generally able to sleep at what ever hour I retire; but it was early, and tho fire looked tempting; so, instead of immediately undressing, I changed my coat for a smoking jacket, and, lighting a pipe, made myself comfortable in nn easy chair. Soon I heard Mrs. Halla»rn'a light footsteps ascend tho stairs, and the door of her room open and close, and a little while afterward Fred halted out side my door to bid me a cheery good night, and then entered tho room oppo site. JFIJ ■FLIP "WITH HER LITTLE HAND IN MINE." How long I sat 1 here I caunot tell, for I fell into a heavy doze, and when I woke up with a sudden start it was with the uneisy consciousness that something unusual had awakened me. I sprang to my feet and looked fearfully around. The flickering flames of my fire, almost burned out, were still sufficient to show me that no one had entered the room; but while I stood there with strained senses I heard a sound which made my blood run cold within me; and, although I am no coward, I shivered with fear. It was the half-muffied shriek of a woman in agony,and it came from Mrs. Hallaton's room. For a moment I was powerless to move; then I hastily unlockod my door, and, hurrying down the corridor, knocked at hers. There was no answer. I tried the handle; it was locked; but, listening for a moment, I could hear tho sound of a woman gasping for breath. I rushed back along the corridor to Fred's room. The door was closed, but unlocked, and I threw it open. "Fred!" I cried; but Fred was not there, nor had the bed been slept on. A candle was burning on the dressing table, aud in the right hand corner of the room was what appeared to be a hole in the wall, bnt when I stood before it I saw at once that it was a secret passage running parallel with the corroidor. Looking down it, I could see a light at the other end, and know ing it must lead into Mrs. Hallaton's room, I caught up tho candle and bend ing almost double half ran, half crept along it, until I reached its other extremity and found myself in Mrs. Hal laton's room. I stood upright and glanced half eagerly, half fearfully vround. The room was empty, but the window directly opposite to me was open, and as my eyes fell upon it I stood pet rified with a dull sickening horror, and the candle dropped with a crash from my nerveless fingers. There was a miniature balcony outside the window, and on this stood Fred Ilallaton, hold- Terms—sl.2s in Advance; 51.50 after Three Months ing in an embrace, which was certainly not of love, the fainting form of his wife. The moon was shining full on his face, ghostly and demoniacal, with tho raging fire of the madman in his eyes and the imbecile grin of the lunatic on his thin lips. In a moment the truth flashed upon me, and as I stood there gaping and horror struck«he saw me and burst into a fit of wild laughter. "Ha, ha, ha! You Neillson? Whata joke! See what a glorious view of tho grounds! Come and bend over, man; don't be afraid. Does the height make you dizzy? It's made her;" and he motioned to tho insensible figure of his wife, whom he still held clasped in his arms. "Do you know what lam going to do with her? I'm going to chuck her down there," and he pointed to the gar den below. "A mad woman is of no use to anyore. Come and lend me a hand." Mechanically I rushed to the balcony and strove to wrench from his encircling giasp the fainting form of his wife. Like a flash his imbecile grin vanished and his eyes filled with a malignant fury as he let go his grasp of his wife and sprang at mo like a tiger cat. It was in vain that I wrestled with him. His long arms were around me and held me as if I were in a vice. I tried to shout for help, but my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, and a faint gurgling was all the sound I could command. Nearer and nearer we drew to tho parapet's edge, until at last 1 could see the lawn below, studded with flower beds like the pattern of some fancy work; for Gaulby Ilall was built high, and we were on the third story. I felt his hot breath in my face, and cai%ht his diabolical look of triumph as he slowly forced me back ward against the outside rail, which creaked and swerved with my weight, and then my struggling feet seemed to part with the earth, as with a wild yell of: "Leicester! Leicester!" I opened my eyes and sat up with a start. The paper had slipped from my fingers, and the train was slowly steaming into Leicester station, and there, standing upon tho platform, smiling aud robust, looking the very picture of health, was Fred Ilallaton. That Christmas party at Gaulby Hall was the most enjoyable I was ever at, and the people (the house was crammed full of visitors) the most entertaining and agreeable I ever met. There was one young person especially—a Miss Alice Pratison she wn» then—with whom I got on remarkably well. I never enjoyed a visit so much in my life as I did that one, nor a ride so much as one afternoon when Miss Pratison and I, after a capital run, rode home together with her little hand in mine and our horses very close together. Next Christmas, if Alice doesn't object, I mean to have a jolly little house party of my own. A Chrlsmas Dinner. A well-dressed but impecunious indi vidual entered a not very pretentious looking restaurant on Christmas Day, and, marshaling all the dignity he could, ordered tho waiter to place his best Christmas dinner before. He ate raven ously, and every once in a while cast fu tive glances at the door, as if calculating how may steps it would tako to get out side of it. After partaking of his meal, he walked to the cashier's desk with tho air of a millionaire, and, placing a ten-dollar Confederate note before the eyes of the astonished clerk, said: "Change, please." "Why, that's no good," said the cashier. "Well, neither was the dinner," answered the well-dressed but impecunious individual,who with a hop, skip and jump, went into the outer air and was lost to sight for evermore! Christmas Proverbs and Saws. A warm Christmas, a cold Easter. A green Christmas makes a fat grave yard. If ice will bear a man before Christ mas it will not bear him afterward. If Christmas finds a bridge he'll break it; if he finds none he'll make one. The shepherd would rather see his wife enter tho stables on Christmas Day than the sun. Yule is come, and Yule is gone, And we have feasted well; So Jack must to his Hail again, And Jennie to her wheel. Couldn't Fool Sauta Cluus. i i " ! JSR-M Santa Claus—"One of the boys has been trying to ring in his father's stock ing on me, but he's going to get badly left." NO. 11. SHEPHERD LULLABY. The silver moon high in the sky A-tbrough the clouds is creeping; The soft winds sigh a lullaby While bonnie barin is sleeping. Hush, baby—hush, my darling! Heigho; Hi—laddie! Out in the night wee jasper stars { Above thy cot are peeping, And at thy side sweet angels bide, Tbeir silent watches keeping- Sleep, baby, sleep!—so weary, Thy mother loves her dearie! Hush, little one, and take thy rest With peaceful dreams beguiling Upon thy breast the fairost nest, Their dewy lips a-smiling. .Hush, baby—hush, my darling! Heigho; Hi—laddie! So close thy drowsy blue-bell eyes j With never a thought of sighing! On misty wing, while elfins sing. Old witches are o-flying. Sleep, baby, sleep!—nor fear thee, Thy mother loves her dearie! 1 Sleep, little lambkin, softly sleep, I hear thy father calling, While he doth keep the gentle sheep Ghost shadows are a-falling; Hush, baby—hush, my darling! Heigho; Hi—laddie! Up in the sky a golden web The dream-gods are a-weaving, With tinkling song they flit along; Beware! They aro deceiving! Sleep, baby, sleep!—so weary, Thy mother loves her dearie! —J.LaRuc Burnett, in Youth's Companion. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Sea-stories—The decks.— Puck. The miner is the man who gets down to his work.— Yonkers Statesman. The man who wants the earth is satis fied if he secures the dust.— Pittsburg Dispatch. Offenders against the law are usually arrayed in breaches of the peace.—Low ell Courier. The shillclah still seems to be the most striking issue of the Irish campaign.— Chicago Mail. A new broom sweeps clean. So does the now gown with the six-inch train.— Detroit Free Press. The tramp is the man who waited for the wagon too long and had to take a walk.— Galveston News. We never saw a mau so sanctified that ho smilod when he paid his taxes.—Mar tha's Vineyard Herald. One peculiarity of the skin on an ani mal is that the fur 3ide is the near side to you.— Neu> York Journal. Nurses make the meanest kind of white cap gentry,for they will even hold up babies.— Baltimore American. The writer of cheap stories does not feel it at all degrading to live on his poor relations.— Boston Transcript. Tho reader who gets his news in a nutshell frequently finds that the kernel has been abstracted.— Pittsbun/ Dispatch. Some men get a reputation for bravery just because they are unable to conceal how scared they are.— Someroillc Journal. Big men are the most merciful. The fatter the judge the more inclined he is to be a spare man.— Binghamton Leader. Jagson says that there are men who goto political meetings, but who never cheer without inebriating.— Elmira Gazette. A very little thing will often discour age a man, especially when its mother has gone to a sewing society. — Elmira Gazette. Photographers are never progrcsssive* They always impress you with the idea that you must not move.— Richmond Recorder. This is the season of the year when the young man goes to his funeral and pulls his gun over the fence after him.— Columbus Post. Ilackett—"How is your wife getting on with her dress-reform movement?" Sunsette—"lmmense. She has two new dressmakers."— Cloak Review. It is not until a man goes on a quest for a hired girl that ho fully appreciates the immense proportions of the woman question.— Baltimore American. It is a sign that her husband is mak ing money when a woman begins to get the look on her face of looking at you without seeing you.— Atchison Globe. "What would you do if you were in ray shoes, Jephson?" asked Hobbs. "Black 'em," replied Jephson, eyeing Ilobbs's understanding critically.—Som en il le Journal. Ethel—' 'After marriage wc two shall be one, shan't we, George?" George— "Theoretically; though 1 doubt if they will make out the board bill that way." —New York Sun. AVhen it is remembered how slowly but with crushing effect tho glaciers move, it is not difficult to believe that "tho tooth of time" must bo a griuder. —Lowell Courier. Visiting Clergyman—"Arc you never troubled with thoughts of wasted oppor tunities?" Ccinict—"No; I can't re member ever missing a chance for a haul."— Note York Herald. "I wonder why I can't make my kite fly," wailed the little brother of the hi?h school girl. "It looks to me," replied Mildred, "as though its caudal append age were disproportionate to its super ficial area." "1 don't think that's it,'"' said Jim; "I think its tail is too light.'" —Texas Si/tings.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers