SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN W. M, CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. X. There arc now 3715 places in the ITnited States which have & population oi xnore than 1000. Tolstoi, the Russian philosopher, says that the least complicated and shortest rule of morals that he knows is to get others to work for you as little as possi ble and work yourself as much as possi ble for them ; make the fewest call upon the services ot your neighbors, and ren der them the maximum number of ser vices yourself. Few people perhaps are aware of the fact, believes the Boston Transcript, that there was once a Postmistress- General. She did not servo iu this country or iu the present century, but the fact that a woman ever served in that capacity is indeed remarkable. Denmark was the home of this remark able woman, whose name was Countess Gyldenlore, or Dorothea Krag, as she was called during her term of office, which extended from the year 1703 to 1711. The present postal system in that country, waic'.i Is considered one of the best in the world, was inaugurated by her. Professor Jauiesou, of Brown Univer sity, is lecturing on the historic colonial mansions ou the James River in Vir ginia, especially those at Shirley, West over and Upper and Lower Brandon. This region and the country about Will iamsburg, which the professor designates as "the quaintest placa in the English portion of America,"was once a virgin field of discovery for the seeker after old colonial furniture. Many a rare find of ancient mahogany tables and sideboards has been made thereabouts, and quaint Chippendale chairs used to be found there in numbers—interesting objects of treasures-trove that could be secured for the proverbial song. But time has changed all that, and such articles when discovered there now arc held at fair price. It is said that much of this sort of colonial furniture may be obtained nowadays in parts of Kentucky, rare pieces having been inherited by the present generation af Kentuckians from their Virsrinia ancestors. People who think th:it the free-pass business is carried to extremes iu tho United States should note how they do it iu Russia. The Railroad Gazette says that the Russian railroads have been ac customed to give free passes not only to their employes, but to relative of their employes, a practice which may have been heard on this side of the Atlantic. The term "relatives," however, has been found to be extremely elastic, and re cently the Great Russian Company put its foot down and issued positive orders that hereafter passes will be granted to no other relatives of employes thau their wives, though a trifling reduction of seventy per cent, on the prices of tickets will be made to parents, brothers and sisters of employes and of their wives,but all aunts, cousins and stepmothers must pay full fares. If your brother receives a salary of as much as I?7S0 from the company, you can get your disccunt only on tlrst-cla«s tickets; if he has from £l5O to $750, you have second-class tickets; if less than £l5O, third-class tickets. The idea of the bicycle railroad finds favor at Seattle. A lino is soon to be constructed between that city and Taco ma. The contract calls for its comple tion within a year. The following de scription is given ol the road: "There will be two tracks, each of a single line of steel rails. A timber will be laid ou the ground across the width of both tracks at intervals of twenty feet, an 1 across these, leugthwise of the track, lOxl'J-inch stringers will be laid, to which the rails will be spiked. To each end of the sills will be bolted upright timliers 2xlß inches and eighteen feet high, with Jxti-inch br.tcas. These up rights will lie connected overhead by a cap, which will support a ii6-inch wooden guide-rail, directly above eacn line of rail*. The cars will ruu on wheels under their centre ou the line of rail*, and, when running ou a straight track, will hu held upright I»y_ their own itnpetU". When rounding curves, however, the cars will be held upright by two ruooet wheels MIHXO 1 to their rool* and rutr.un • one on i ich side of the guide-rail, while a third rubber wheel will revolve :i i the underside ol this rail, pressing .i; liint it and keep ing it In po-itiuo. I> i intended in the com*e «.f a few years t>. replace the tiui Iters with "tr-1 super**tucture. Steam fiowei will IH- IIM I, bit ultimately elet tricity will be the motive power." A COLDEN HOUR. A beckoning spirit of gladness seemed afloat. That lightly danced in laughing air before us; The earth was all in tune and you a not* Of Nature's happy chorus. 'Twas like a vernal morn, yet overhead The leafless boughs across the lane were knitting: The ghost of some forgotten Spring,wo said. O'er Winter's world comes flitting. Or was it Spring herself, that, gone astray, Beyond the alien frontier chose to tarry? Or but some bold outrider of tho May, Some April-emissary? The apparition faded on tho air. Capricious and incalcu able comer— Wilt thou too [>ass, and leave my chill days bare, And fall'n my phantom Summer? —William Watson, in the Spectator. THE RUNAWAY. BY PATIENCE STAPJ.ETON. . | * . . OULD they put her I I AI/ in the asylum," she lii i"\/.1/ wondered, "if they 1 T j y[V caught her?" Si | 'J JJ J Polks would sure t I ly think she was \|[ I crazy. She stopped at III4 1 "TaI t. the stone wall to y*i V rest ' an( * looked back timorously at ' arailiar Par behind her streched the meadow, a symphony of olive and green in the iate fall. Here and there the sunken boulder stood soldiery, golden rod, or berry bushes clothed now in scarlet and gold. At intervals in the long slope stood solitary trees, where fluttering, brittle leaves fell in the gentle, chill air. Iu summer, time she remembered well the haymakers rested in the shade, and the jug with ginger water she made for the men was kept there to be cool. She seemed as she sat there to re member everything. The house was all right, the was sure of that; tho key was under the kitchen door mat, tho fire was out in the stove and the cat locked in the barn. She held her work hardened hand to her side, panting a little, for it was a good bit of a walk across the meadow, and she was eighty years old on her last birthday. The cows feeding looked homelike and pleasant. "Goodbye, critters," she said aloud; "meny's the time I've druv' ye home an' milked ye, an' I alius let ye eat by the | way, nor never hurried ye as the boys done." With a farewell glance she went on again, smoothing as she walked the scattered locks of gray hair falling under the pumpkin hood and keeping her black scant gown out of the reach of the briar*. Across another field, then through a leafy lane where the wood was hauled in winter, then out through a gap in a stump fence, with its great branching arms like a petrified octopus, to the dusty high road. Not a soul in sight in the coming twi light. John, the children and the scold ing wife who made her so unhappy, would not be home for an hour yet, for East Mills was a long drive. Down the steep hill went the brave little figure, followed by an old shadow of itself iu the waning light, and by the tiny stones that rolled so swiftly they passed her often and made her look be hind with a start to see if a pursuer was coming. "TheyM put me iu the asylum, sure," she muttered wildly as she trudged along. At the foot of the hill she sat down upon an old log and waited for the train. Across the road, guarded by a big sign, "Look out for the engine," rau two parallel iron rails that wero to be her road when the big mouster should come panting around the curve. At last the dull rumble sounded, a shrill whistle, and she hurried to the track, waving her shawl as a signal. This, in the conductors' vernacular, was a cross-roads station, where ho was used to watch for people waving articles frantically. The train stopped and the passeiiger was taken aboard. He noticed she was a bright eyed old lady, very ueat and precise. "How furf" he asked. "Hostio." •'Oil there in the momin'," he mid, kindly, waiting for the money, as she opened a queer little reticule, where, under her knitting, wrapped in a clean cotton handkerchief, was her purse with her cavings of long year* —the little aunt* Sam had sent her when he first be gun to prosper in the West, and some money she hud earned herself by kuittiug and berry pick lug. At a cross road, as they went swiftly on, she saw the old sonel horse, the rattling wagon ami John and his family driving hoinew»rd. Hhe drew back with a little cry, fearing he micbt see her and stop tin- train, but they * ut ou •o last that could not be, and '.he old horse jogged into the woods, and John never thought his old Aunt Hannah, his charge for twenty long years, was run uing away. At Itoston a kindly conductor bought hei a through ti< ket lor lietcw. "It's a long |<>uruey lor au old lady Uk« you," he said. "But I'm peart ol my age," the said LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 29, 1892. anxiously; I never lied a day's sickness »ince I was a gal." "Going all the way alone?" "With Providence," sho answered brightly, alert and eager to help herself, but sileut and thoughtful as the train took her into strange landscape where the miles where the landscape went so swiftly it seemed like the past years of her life as she looked back on them. "Thy works are marvelous," she mur mmed often, sitting, with her hands folded, and few idle days had there been in the world where she had sat and rested so long. In the day coach the people were kind and generous, sharing their baskets with her and seeing she changed cars right and her carpetbag was safe. She was like any of the dear old grandmas in Eastern homes, or to grizzled men and women like the memory of our dcSid mother, as faint and far away as the scent of wild roses in a hillside country bury ing ground. She tended babies for tired women and talked to the men of farming and crops or told the children Bible stories, but never a word she said of her self, not one. On again, guided by kindly hands through the great bewildering city by the lake, and now through yet a strange land. Tired and worn by night in the uncomfortable seats her brave spirit be gan to fall a little. As the wide, level plains, lonely aud drear, dawned on her sight she sighed often. "It's a dre'ful big world," she said to a gray bearded old farmer near her; "so big I feel e'enmost lost in it, but," hope fully, "across them deserts like this long ago Providence sent a star to guide them wiie men of the East, an' I hain't lost my faith." But as the day wore on, and still the long, monotonous land showed no human habitation, no oasis of green, her eyes dimmed, something like a sob rose under the black kerchief on the bowed should ers, and the spectacles were taken off with trembling hand and put away care fully in the worn tin case. "Be ye goin' fur, mother?" said the old farmer. He had bought her a cup of coffee at the last station, and had pointed out on the way things he thought might interest her. "To Denver." "Wal, wal; you're from New England. I*l be bound." "From -Maine," slie answered; and then she grew communicative, for she was always a chatty old lady, and she had possessed her soul iu silence so lo.ig, and it was a relief to tell the story of her weary years of waiting to a kindly lis tener. She told him all the relations she had were two grand nephews and their fami lies. That twenty years ago Sam (for she had brought them up when their parents died of consumption, that takes so many of our folks) went out West. He was always adventurous, and for ten years .she did not hear from him; but John was different and steady, and when he came of she had given him her farm, with the provision that she should always have a home, otherwise he would have gone away, too. Well for years they were happy, then John married, and his wife had grown to think her a bur den as the years went on, and the chil dren when they grew big did not care for her; she felt that she had lived too long. "I growed so lonesome," she said pathetically, "it seems I couldn't|take up heart to live day by day, anVyit I knowed our folks was long lived. Ten years back, when Sam wrote he was doiu' fair an' sent me money. I beguu to think of him; fur he was allusgenerous an' kind, au' tlio gratefulest boy, an' so I begau to save togo to him, fur I knowed 1 could work my board for a good many years to come. Fur throe years he ain't hardly wrote, but I laid that to the wild kentry he lived iu. 1 said b'ars and Injuns don't skeer me none, fur when 1 was a gal up in Aroostuk Kentry there was plenty of both, an' as fur bullalers them horned cattle don't skeer me uoiie, fur I've been used to a farm alius. But the lone sumucss of these medders has.sorter up sot me and made me think every day Saui was further off than I ever • calc'lated ou." "But what will you do if S au ain't in Denver?" asked the farmer. "I hev put my faith in Providence," she answered simply, anil the stranger could nortnar that trust by any word of warning. He gave hor his addreis is he got oil at the Nebraska liue, and told her to seud him word if she needed help. With a warm hand clasp he |iarted from her to joiu the phantoms in her memory of "folks that had been kiud to her, Uod bless IUC," aud then the traiu was rum-• bliag on. Hut mauy of tiie passengers had lis tened lo her story aud were interested, aud they came to sit with her. One pale, little lad in a seat iu front, turned to look at her now and then aud her smile. He was goiue to the new country for health and wealth, poor lad, ouly to tlud eternal re.tin the suuny land, but his last days bright csed by the reward for his thoughtful acU of kindness, "She probably brought th»*e N>y» up," hi thought, "nu«l tUlilwl Uerlifu (or them. I* tie to tile win wurle l, 1 WWdrrl Thriu ' UIHOt l*» •»"» Ibe worlit l( tluit Im< «>." Hp • li«»u«ht of h«i in.l took out hi* i»ii« ' l'liurtf»«!\er two fre» long and three feet high The pedestal is entirely cov ered with beautifully worked figure.-, and at each voruer are artistically wrought dragon-, each of which carries a huge ivory I lull, winch is bellowed out and decorated Willi Murine »e carvings. I'tn* gift is prunouuceit by etperts to Im< tlm ' moat |wrlect masterpiece "I Burmese art industry which has ever reached KiUopt'.-- N«W York Poet, Terms—sl.2s in Advance; 51.50 after Three Months SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL. Electric welding is now applied l« the work of manufacturing iron wheelfl. Zinc expands up to the melting point. A bar of h.fk>mcred zinc six inches long v.-i 11 expand 1 1-100 of an inch in rais ing the temperature 100 degrees F. The average mortality of unmarried men between the ages of twenty and twenty-five is 1174 iu every 100,000, while that of married men is only 597. It is stated that a German firm has perfected a means of making a profitable disposition of sawdust. An acid is mixed with the sawdust and tho whole mass molded into blocks or any other form, resulting in a fine material for building purposes. A new machine is being used in England to level the tips and nails in the bottoms of boots and shoes and to produce a fiue polish and finish hitherto impossible by hand work. The machine is arranged to run by power and is firmly placed on an iron base, with counter shafting and pulleys. A design of an electric boat, pro pelled by a sea-water battery, has been exhibited before the French Academy of Scieuces. The battery plates are under the boat, in the form of a keel, and the current generated drives a motor oper ating the screw. The plates (copper or zinc) are raised or lowered by means of pulleys. In the Electricity Building at the World's Fair, Chicago, there will be forty thousand panes of glass, or mc than iu any other exposition structure. This building will be especially con spicuous at night, as, owing to its ex tensive glass surface, the brilliancy of its electrical exhibit will be strikiugly visible from the outside. Thomas Median says that striking variations in plants occur at times sud denly by bud variation as well as .by seeds. The curled-leaved weeping willow suddenly assumed this character on a tree of the ordinary kind; the red sweet potato is also a bud variation from the ordinary white variety; the double flowered tuberose is believed to have originated by bud variation. One of the most attractive of the ex hibits at the Frankfurt Exposition is that in which the process of manufactur ing the celebrated Sevres chiua is shown to the public. Bohemian gil ls, attired in their national costume, mnuipulate the plastic cloy and wax int» Ute-like leaves and birds. The mass is then placed iu a furnace and the heat- is so regulated as to solidify the substance without the least fracture. A second furnace evaporates all that is left of the wax, leaving a very friable dead white china flower. On this the coloring artist reproduces the delicate shading of the natural flower and the article is again placed in the furnace to burn the color. A Philadelphia scientist has made an analysis of the brains of a gordla, and the results of his investigation are calcu lated to give little comfort to those who have maintained there is only a "missing link" between man and the gorilla in the chain of evolution. It was found that the brain of the gorrilla was really of a much lower order of developeuient than that of the ourang-outang or the chim panzee. The gorilla's frontal lobe, in stead of being round and convex, was pointed aud concave, and the lower portion of the brain, visible in the chimpanzee as well as man, is missing. The gorilla, instead of standiug at the head of the monkey tribe, is lower than nt least two other members of it. No Wonder Indians Are l>yiii£ Out. The conversation had drifted onto Indians, ami apropos of the topic a lum berman in the office remarked that at the last camp on Prairie Hiver, from which he had just returned, he had seen a goodly uroup of these noble aborigines camped near the lumber shanties. "They came to look after a horse," said he. "Lost a horse/" "No,we lost one; got killed, and they came down to cut him up." "What for!" "Why, to eat him. They stayed right by the carcass aud hung up ami dried every pound of meat ou him. IJucer haw they found it out. The horse hadn't been dead twenty* four hours before the whole tribe were after him; crow* cou dn't have done bet ter." ••That's nothing," said an old logger standiug by. "I.ast winter six horses died in our camp of epizootic, aud I'll be hanged if they didn't pick the bouea of every one of them clean. There is no trouble iu accounting for the rapid re duction of the Indian population when you kuow what they eat. —Minneapolis (Minn.) Lumberman. f'rnlt Prices in Pioneer Hays. The early fruit growers of Oregon had a wonderful market for a few years at San PrauciM-o. Iu ISM 300 bushels ol apples were shipped from Oregon to California, auil returned a net prolit of from $1.50 to $9 |wr pound. Iu 1h53 the shtpnicu.s rote to tl.)00 bushels, whn h sold at from to *.1 1 » * bushel. Iu l*.M> the shipment* ro»e to 'JO 0(H) buns. Kvcu iii tiii* year big price» were received, and for choice fruit fancy flg« lire* oil! lined, one bo* of K»npil* .r« profitable Hutu gold mini it); for the loot lialf do/ u )r*i« of the industry V) Kugci i (iuard. NO. 29, ■WHEN THE COWS COME HOM( With the klingle, klangle, Far down the dusky dingle The cows are coming home. Now sweet and clear, and faint and low, *" The airy tinklings come and go, Like chimlngs from a far off tower. Or patterings of an April shower That makes the daises grow. Koling, kolang, kolingelingle. Far down the darkening dingle The cows comes nlowly home. 7 And old time friendß and twilight plays, And starry nights and sunny days, Come trooping up the misty ways When the cows come home. With jingle, jangle, jingle. Soft tones that swelling mingle. The cows are coming home; Malvine, and Pearl and Florimel. DeKamp, Red Hose and Gretchen Schell, Queen Be«s and Sylph and spangled Sue, Across thetield I hear their 100-o-o And clang of silver bell. Goling, golang, golingelingle. With faint, far sounds that mingle, The cows come slowly home. And mother songs of long gone years, And baby joys and childish tears, And youthful hopes and youthful fears, ' When the cows come home. With ringle, raugle, ringle. By twos and threes and single, The cows are coming home. , Through violet air we see the town. And the summer sun a-skipping down. And the maple in the hazel glade Throws down the path a longer shade, And the hills are growing brown Toring, torang, toringleringle. By threes and fouis and single, The cows come slowly home. The same sweet sound of wor.lless psalm, The same sweet June-day rest and calm. The same sweet smell of buds and balm, When the cows come home. With tinkle, tanklt', tinkle. Through fern and periwinkle. The cows are coming home; A-loitering in the checkered stream. Where the sun's rays glance and gleam, Clarine, Peachbloom, Phebe and Phillis, Stand knee-deep in the creamy lilies. In a drowsy dream. Tolink, tolank, tolinklelinkle, O'er banks with buttercups The cows come slowly home. And up through memory's deep ravine Come the brook's old song and its old-time sheen, And the crescent of the silver queen, When the cows come home. Withklingle, kl angle, klingle, With 100-oo and moo-oo and lingle, The cows are coming home; And over there, on the Merlin hill. Sounds the plaintive cry of the whip-poor will, And the dew-drops lie on the tangled vines, And over the poplars Venus shines And over the silent mill. Koling, kolang, AVith a ting-a-ling and ajA \ The cows come slowly home. Let down the bars, let in the train * Of long-gone song and Bowers and ra .. For dear old times come back again When the cows come home. HI'MOR OF THE DAY. Startling figures—Ghosts. A catch phrase—Sick him I A ruun may be lantern-jawed and yet his face never light up. —Kaston Free I'ress. The astronomer who has made a tele scopic discovery is naturally proud of his good looks. The moon is above all human follies nnd always looks down on lovers.—El uiira Gazette. A coal dealer can't be a musician. Ho can never learn to run the scale accurate ly.—Binghnmton Republican. The most dangerous "charge of tho light brigade" is that made by the gas office clerk.—Columbus l'ost. When •» man is "beside himself' he generally demonstrates that he doesn't like the compauy.—Boston Courier. Plenty of tall men are "short," loose men "tight," co d men "warm" and big men "small."—Puilai'ilphia Record. From the prescriptions of some physi cians, it is evident that thev have for gotten their boyhood.—Columbus Post. "Will the comiug man use both arms'" asks a scientist. "Yes, if he can trust the girl to handle the reins."— I'tiihtdelphia I'ress. Prominence hits its drawbacks. Tho drum major doesn't see near as much of the parade as the mau on tho eurbstoue. —lndianapolis News. Anarchist—"We expect to argue our cause with bombs, sir!" ijuiet Citizen —"A bomb, my friend, is an argument that has been rxpioded long ago."— Chicago Tribune Jobson (at the restaurant) "Waiter, give me some chicken talid aud a buttle of >oda." Jagsoa—"Give me the same." Jobson (who is from llontou)- ••Excuse me; it caunot be the same my, similar."—filiou aud Leather Re porter. liuliiuch—"How is that little mining scheme of your getting along I Any ■lone) in a'" Wooden—"Any inouey in it' Well, I should say so! All of mini , all >f my wife's, and about fifty thouaaud thai 1 got from uiy friends."— Httstou Courier A World's K.tir envoy to Africa as tuuished the natives with an Kdisou lihonvitfiaph and talkiug dolls.