SULLIVAN JS& REPUBLICAN. W. M, CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. XI. More than one million Federal sol dier* of the Civil War are still living. It is interesting to learn that Arizona is as large as Great Britain and Ireland combined. "Soup, Soap and Salvation" is the concisj motto in the rooms of the Bal timore Free Sunday Breakfast. Associa tion. In tho new Maine town of Rumford Falls, where not even a log hut stow* a year ago, a SIO,OOO residence is build ing and 700 men arc at work upon mills and other structures. The report of the Society of Friends in England shows an incsease in its membership of 221 over last year, bring ing it up to a total of 22,287. There are now in Great Britain 340 "meet ings." The Victoria Government finds itself compelled to reduce the bonuses paid for ttie export af butter. Last year as much as §150,000 was used for this purpose, six cents per pound being paid on all butter that realized over twenty-five cents in the English viarket. Few cities ever get started—"laid out," as it is commoily called—as they should be. They get in shape by mere chance and that, explains tbo Chicago Herald, is why they are so frequently misshapen. New York City has fewer alleys than any other city in the woild, notwithstanding it is one of the largest. "London requires some women to act as sanitary inspectors," is the opinion of Dr. Corner, Medical Officer for Poplar. With the help of efficient women work ing among the poor, he thinks epidemics might be nipped in the bud. Glasgow, Scotlmd, already has six women in spectors, who are doing an admirable work. Certain gentlemea of large ideas an nounce that they intend building an air line from the Atlantic to tho Pacific. "To those of ideas somewhat less magnified," comments the San Francisco Examiner, "the raising of the necessary $700,000,000 might seem in the nature of an obstacle, though attention is not called to the fact with any view to discouraging enterprise." Imports of wheat into Great Britaiu during the fiscal year just closed have amounted to nearly 180,000,000 bushels. This large quantity is in excess of the present requirements of the country, and the result has been that the price of this grain has fallen lower than ever known previously. It is believed that 16),O00,- 000 bushels will be needed to supply the deficiencies of the coming year. It seems to the New Orleans Picayune that another expedition to rescue Emin Pusha is in order. Dr. Stuhlman has written a letter from Tabora staling that Emin is at the south end of Lake Albert Nyanzn, almost at the mercy of tho Arabs, whose revolt has spread from the Congo Free State into the German terri tories, and that he is waiting for assist ance to get away. It is not state 1 whether Stanley will goto his assistance again. British newspapers are discussing earnestly the question of cloakrooms in churches, referring to the absence of, and abiolutc necessity for, facilities for disposing of wraps, hats and overcoats. Some churches in the country have wire hatracks beneath the seats, and a few hive wire bars for overcoats and wraps on the backs of seats. Oae church in Chicago has regular opera chairs and the attendant conveniences. A cloaknom seems to tho New York Tribune to fill a long-felt want, for there docs not appear to be any good reason, these days, auy way, why a man or woman should not be as comfortable in a church as inn theatre. At a recent meeting of the American Society of Civil Engineers, B. W. De- Courcv related an interesting while acting as Supervisor and Bridge Engineer of a railway. He had to use one of the three-wheel velocipedes run ning on the railway, frequently employed by the maintenance of way officials, and as his track rau through a number of narrow cuts, he happened one day to think over the best thing to do should he meet an engine. He decided that tho only way out of this trouble would be to jump and at the same time overset the velocipede to the right. A trial of this plan showed that it could be carried out without injury. The value of this study was apparent 6ome time after, when Mr. DeCourcy was running out with his fore man to inspect a bridge and met a loco motive ahead of time in a rock cut about eighteen feet deep. He threw himself to the right and jumped at the £>am< time, catching the small wheel ami throwing bis back against the rocky side of the cut. It was done so quickly that the engineer thought he had run ovei the men ant 1 so reported -at tho station. THANKSGIVING DAY! With grateful hearts Ist all give thanks, All lands, all stations, and all ranks: And the cry comes up along the way, For what shall we give thanks) to-day F For peace and plenty, busy mills, "The cattle on a thousand hills," For bursting barns, wherein is stored The golden grain, a precious hoard: Give thanks! For orchards bearing rosy fruit. For yielding pod and toothsome root. And all that (tod declared was good In hill or dale, or field or wood: Give thanks) For water bright and sweeet and clear, A million fountains far and near. For gracious streamlets, lakes, and rills That flow from everlasting hills: Give thanks! For summer dews and timely frost. The sun's bright beams, not one ray lost. For willing hands to sow the seed And reap the harvest, great indeed: Give thanks! For hearth and home—love's altar fires — For loving children, thoughtful sires; For tender mothers, gent!* wive?. Who fill our hearts and bless our lives: Give thanks? For heaven's care, life's journey through. For health and strength to dare and do, For ears to hear, for eyes to sea Earth's beauteous things on lanl and saa: Give thanks I —M. A. Kidder. BESSIE'S THANKSGIVING. BY KATE M. CLEARY. 4HUF MOST diffident M M and modest /j| knock it was. Perhaps because zr- mit was so very fl diffident, so very /"3/i.Cri modest, irritated *M a " t ' le raore t ' le l ifflil 'Tiers Ji peculiarly alert « Dervcs °f Mr. 'I Godfrey Kirke. "Oh, come in, V\\ 4 come in!" he cried. An elderly woman entered the room. She had a small, pale withered face; a kind face, though, pleasant, gentle. She was dressed in a worn dark gown. The net fichu, crossed over her slender shoulders, was clasped by an old-fash ioned medallion. "To-morrow will be Thanksgivmg •▼e," she said; "I wished to know if I might prepare for the day after." An originally handsome apartment, this in which the old man sat, and it had been handsomely furnished. Now both the room and its belongings bore the mark of' creeping poverty, or ex treme penu-iou9ness. Tho master of the house, seated by the center table, seemed to share the character of the room. He, too, had been handsome once. Now he was expressive only of age and in digence, from the threadbare collar of his limp dressing-gown to the tips of his thin and shabby slippers. "Prepare what?" he growled. "Why a turkey, sir; or a pie, or—or • bit of cranberry-sauce, sir—" He looked so fierce, hor words died in her throat. "Turkey! And where do you sup pose I can get the money to spend on turkey ? And pie! To make us al I s ick, and bring doctors and doctors' bills down on me! And," with a sniff of disgust, "cranberry sauce—the skinny stuff! No, Mrs. Dotty. A bit of bacon and some bread will be good enough for poor folks like us—good enough." His housekeeper, for that was the un enviable position Mrs. Dotty occupied in Godfrey Kirke's household, resolved to make one last appeal. "OH, COME IN, COME IN!" HE CRIED. "But I thought perhaps on account ol the child," she began. "The child—thechild!" he repeated, irascibly, "I'm sick of hearing about her." Indignation made Mrs. Dotty quite bold for once. "She's your own granddaughter, sir. That's what she is." "Well, I didn't ask for her, did It 1 never wanted to adopt her. What right had her mother to make such a poor hand of herself hy marrying Tom Bar rett, and then ccme back to die here, and leave me her girl? Eh? She's an expense, I tell you; that's all. An ex pense!" "The Lord help us, but he's getting worse than ever!" murmured the woman, as, with a bang that was downright dis respectful, she slammed the door behind her. "You—you, Miss Bessie!" She started, as she looked up, and saw Bessie Barrett standing so near her. -She was a slim, brown-haired little thing, of about seventeen. She was clad in an ill made gown of coarse maroon cashmere. Her eyes were large, gray, just now very sorrowful. Her lashes and brows wer< quite black. The delicate features had a pinched look, and the pretty lips were paler than should be the lips of one »t young. LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1892. "Yea; and I—heard." "Oh, don't—don't mind, dear!" (aid Mra. Dotty, soothingly, putting a hand that looked like wrinkled ivory on the girl's arm. "He is joat a cross, soured, lonely old man." "I do mind I"Bessie passionately cried. "Oh, Idol I sha'n't stay here I I sha'n't be an expense to him any longer. I will go away somewhere!" She broke down in a fit of bitter weeping. "Now, Miss Bessie, dear, you mustn't cry that way; you really mustn't. I loved your mother before you, and I lore you." But the poor, little, old comforter was almost crying herself. Years before, the Kirkes were the people of wealth and position in thai part of the country. But one trouble after nnsther had come upon the house. First, the wife of the master died. Maud, the daughter, married a man whose only crime was poverty. He was a frail, scholarly mai. quite unfitted for a fierce struggle against adverse fortune. He fell ill and died. A year later his wife followed him, leaving their child to its grandfather, Godfrey Kirke. To the latter had come the final blow when his only son Robert, his hope and pride, had run away to sea. Then in the house, which since the death of the mis tress had been a cheerless and dreary place, began a rigid reign of miserliuess and consequent misery. Bessie broke from her friend and ran upstairs and into her own little bare room. There was no fire in the grate, though the day was cold with the pene trating damp of a wind from off the ocean. She went to the window and stood there looking out across the fiat brown marshes, to where the waters tossed, greenish and turbulent. "A horrid day," she said, with a shiver, "but it can't be worse out than in." She put on a short old Astrahan jacket, a little felt hat and a pair of much-mended cloth gloves. Then she went quickly down and out. The duik, the dreary November dusk, was filling the room when the old man, plodding over his accounts, laid down his pencil and rang the bell. Mrs. Dotty responded. Mr. Kirke kept but one other servant (if Mrs. Dotty could correctly be termed a servant), and she absolutely refused to enter the protest ing presence of her mastei. ••Tea!" "Yes, sir." The meek housekeeper withdrew. Teu minutes laber she brought in a tray on which were tea, bread, butter, two cups, two saucers and two plates. Mr. Kirke poured out his tea, shook a little of the sugar be was about to use back in the old silver bowl, added carefully a few drops of milk and cut a slice of bread. "Butter has gone up three cents in the last week," he said. "I can't afford to use butter." So he munched hisbread dry, with a sense of exaltation in his self-imposed penauce. He would not open the poorhouse-door for himself by using but ter. But, somehow, the rank tea tasted ranker than usual. Surely the bread was sour. And the gloom outside the small circle that the lamplight illumined seemed singularly dense. What was wrocg? What was missing? What was different? He paused, hia hand falling by his side. The child—as he and Mrs. Dotty had always called her—the child was not here. She used to slip in so quietly, take her seat, and when her meager supper was over, glide away just as softly. Yes, little as he notaced her, she was generally there. He rang the bell sharply. "Where is she?" he asked Mrs. Dotty, when she popped in her mild old head. There was no need to particularize. Mrs. Dotty cast a swift, searching look arour.d. "Isn't she here?" Without waiting lor a reply, she turned and ran up the stairs to Bessie's room. There she knocked. No answer. She opened the door, went in. The room was empty. Hastily she descended the/stairs. "Shs is not in, sir." "Where is she?" "I don't know, sir." Impatiently Godfrey Kirkje pushed his chair back from the table. "You ought to know; it's your busi ness to know. But it doesn't matter— it doesn't matter in the least." Down to Hanna in the kitchen went Mrs. Dotty. "Did you see Miss Bessie?" "Yes'm. Passin' westward a couple of hours ag J— yes'm." "Oh!" Mrs. Dotty breathed a relieved sigh. Bessie had probably gone to Rose Dover's house. The Devers lived almost a mile 1 away. As a storm was blowing up she would most likely stay there over night. About ten o'clock Mr. Kirke's bell again tingled out. Again Mrs. Dotty appeared before him. "Has the child come in?" "No, sir." "Do you know why she went out? 1 ' '•I suspect, sir." "Well, speak up." "She overheard our conversation to ! day." "What of it?" "Nothing of it," with a very angry flash from very faded eyes, "except that she rowed she would be an expense to you no longer." "She did, eh?" "She did." "Well," grimly, "I hope sha won't!'' The child had a sulky fit. She was probably at the house of some neighbor. She would return when her tantrum had passed off. All this he told himself. Still he sat in his lonely room till long after midnight, listening, listening. When he finally went to bed it was to roll and moan till daylight, in the vague wretchedness of unhappy dreams. Noon—the noon before Thanksgiving eve, —came, went. Bessie did not re turn. All forenoon it rained. Toward even ing the rain eeased, and a fog, a chill, smoky, blinding fog, began to creep up from the Atlantic. "If you don't mind," said Mrs. Dotty, making her appearance with a shawl over her head, "I'll just run over to Devers' and see what is keeping Mias Bessie." "Do!" he answered. She had spoken as if the distance were not worth' considering, but it was quite a journey for her. When she returned she looked white and scared. "She isn't there—hain't been." "Hark!" said Godfrey Kirke, holding up one lean hand. "That is only the carrier with the flour." "Ask him if he has seen her?" Mrs. Dotty went into the hall. Almost instantly she returned. "He has not. He says there is the body of a young woman at the town morgue." "What!" Godfrey Kirke leaped from his chair. "He says that the body of a young girl was tound in the East Branch to-day. Godfrey Kirke sank back in his seat. Mrs. Dotty smiled a hard little smile to herself as she closed the door and went away. She knew how many friends Bessie had. She shrewdly suspected if she were not found at one place she would be at another; and she was malici ously and plea*ntly conscious that she bad given the hard-hearted old man a genuine scare. Long the latter sat where she had left him. Thinking. For the first time in years he was thinking, sadly, seriously, solemnly. Than'sgiving-eve! In his wife's time the house used to be gay and cheerful on that night, so filled with com fort and bright anticipations, so odorous with the homely fragrance of good things in the kitchen, so delightfully merry with the brisk bustle attendant on the mor row's festivity. Now it was desolate, dreary, darksome with depressing and unutterable gloom. Whose fault was it? His! decided Goifrey Kirke, as savagely relentless to himself in this moment as he would have been to another. His I RR HAD THE WEAPON IN HIS HA.NB. when his devoted wife had drooped and died under his ever-increasing arrogance, dictation. Ilisl when Maud married the first man who offered himself, to escape from her father's pretty rule. His! when Robert ran away to escape the narrow obligations and unjust restrictions laid upon him. His! when the child his dead daughter had left him could no longer endure his brutality, or accept from him the scant support he so grud gingly gave. His fault—all his I In those lonely hours the whole relentless tiuth dawned upon him, as such truths will dawn, in most bitter brilliance. He dropped his head on liis hands with u groan. He looked around the dim, shabby room. He looked at the dying fire in the grate. He wondered of what use would be to him now his twenty-thou sand in bonds, his eight hundred acres of meadow land, the money he had out at iuterest. He rose in a dazed kind of way, a shadowy purposetakiug definite ness in his mind. He wished he had been bettor to Besse; he wished—but what was the use of wishing now? There could bo but one satisfactory answer to all his self-condemnation. A shot from the revolver iu the drawer yonder,that he had always kept in readiness for possible burglars. He rose. He moved toward tho"table. His figure cast a fantastic shadow ou the wall. The tears were streaming down his cheeks. There might be thanksgiving for his death, though there could never have been any for his life. Hark! He had the weapon in his hand. He started nervously. Was that Bessie's voice? He turned, dropping the revolver with a clatter. Ye 3, there she was, not three feet away, fresh, fair, damp, smil ing. "It is the queerest thing," she said, coming towaid him as she spoke. "I felt—badly—yesterday, and I went over to Mrs. Farnham's to see if she could get me work. I met Mrs. Nelson, and she asked me togo home with her. Dicky was iIL, Bnd she wanted me to stay over night. She sent you a note. At least she sent the boy with it, but he lost it, aud only told her so this afternoon. As soon as I knew that I started home, alone— although Dicky >vas no better." "Yes?" said Godfrey Kirke. He was listening with an unusual degree of in terest. "And to-night, when I was almost nere, (Nelsons' is quite two miles away, you kuow), I got lost in the fog." Her grandfather regarded her in amazerrent. What made he pale cheeks so bright? What excitement had blackened her gray eyes? "And—a p-entleman who was coming here found me, and—*and brought me home. Please thank him, grandpa. Here he is!" With an inctedulous, gasping cry, Godfrey Kirke retreated, as a big brown, muscular fellow came dashing in from the hall. "Robert!" "Father!" Tbeu they were clasped in each other's arms. "I'm back from ti.s sea for good, father. And I chanced to find my little niece Bessie lost out there in the fog. A young lady, I vow! And I was think ing of her as a mere baby yet! Just think! Bhe tells me Charlie Nelson wants her—'' "Not Well, Charlie is a fine fellow. He can have her—a year from to-day." 80 now you know why the Kirke homestead is dazzling with lights and flowers, and why it resounds with laugh ter this Thanksgiving; why old Godfrey "ROBEUTI" "FATHER!" wears 11 brann-new suit, and a flower in his buttonhole; why Robert, io his rightful place, looked so proud and pleased; why dear, busy little Mrs.Dotty beams benignly; why Bessie, gowned in snowy, shining silk, thinks this is a lovely old world after all; why Charlie Nelson is so blessedly conteut, and why in each and every heart reigns supreme Thanksgiving.—The Ledger. Thanksgiving Roast Fig. Take a choice fat pig six weeks old, not younger, though it may be a little older, Have it carefully killed and dressed, and thoroughly washed. Trim out carefully with a sharp, narrow-bladod knife the inside of the inouth aud ears, cut oui the tongue and- eliop off the eud of the snout. Hub the pig well with a mixture of salt, pepper and pounded sage, and sprinkle it rather liberally with reel pepper, and a dash outside, too. Make a rich stuffing of bread cru nbs —com bread stuffing is de rigeur for pig, though you can put half of one and half of the other inside of Mr. Piggy if somebody insists on loaf bread stuffing. It you use corn bread, have a thick, rich pone of bread baked, and crumble it as soon as it is cool enough to handle, sea son it highly with black and red pepper, sage, thyme, savory marjoram,- minced onion—just enough to flavor it, aud plenty of fresh butter; moisten it well with stock, crean., or evcu hot water. Stuff the pig well and sew it up closely. If you have a tin iv-usterand open tire, the pig will be roasted by that much better. If you have not, put the pig in a long pan and set it in the oven, and leave the stove door open until the pig begins to cook, gradually closiug the poor, so that the cooking will not b3 done too fast. The pig must be well dredged with flour when putin the pan. Mix some flour and butter together in a plate, and pour about a quart of hot water in the pan with the pig when it is put on the fire. Have a larding-mop in the plate of flour nnd butter, and mop the pig frequently with the mixture while it is roasting. If a roaster is used, set it about two feet from the fire at first, but continue to move it nearer and nearer as the pig cooks. Baste it frequently with the water in the pan betweenwhiles of mop ping with flour and butter. To be sure the pig is done, thrust a skewer through the thickest part of him; if no pink or reddish juice oozes out it is done, and ought to be a rich brown all over. When the pig is done pour the gravy in a saucepan and cook it sufficiently. This will not be necessary if the pitt was cooked in the stove oven. The pig's liver may be boiled in well salted water, pou&ded up, and added to the gravy, which should be very savory and plentiful. The pig should be invariably served with baked sweet potatoes and plenty of good pickle and sauce, either mushroom or gieen pepper catsup, for despite his toothsomeness, roast pig is not very safe eating without plenty of red pepper.— Good Housekeeper. An Informal Rspnst. "I suppose," said Mrs. Brown, "you would like me to wear a new dress at this Thanksgiving dinner you aro going to give?" "Can't afford it," growled old Brown. "As long as you have the turkey well dressed you will pass muster."—Judge. The Thanksgiving Turkey. As Thanksgiving Day walks down this way l'be strutting turkey is ill at ease; "I'm poor as tho turkey of Job," says he; "Tough and unlit to eat, you see; I gobble no more ot my pedigree, Lest some poor fellow should gobble me; And a turkey buzzard I think I'll be. For the present, if you please.' —Bingbamton Republican. Cause for Thanksgiving. Sunday-school Teacher " VVillie, have you had anything during the woek to be especially thankful for?" Willie— <l Yes'ra, Johnny Podgers sprained his writt and I licked him for the first time yesterday. Free Press. " A Thonght Fur llie Season. He in whose store of blessings there may bo Enough, and yet to spare, 8.-stowing, with a gentle charity, Upon the poor a share. By all the gladness that bis gifts provide will have his own thanksgiving multiplied. Tommy's Dream on Thanksgiving Night Terms—Bl.oo in Advance; 81.25 after Three Months. SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL j A doctor has launched the theory that the best method of inducing a flow of thought is to lay the head flat on the table. Dr. David D. Stewart, of Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia, claims to have discovered that hydronapthol is a cure for cholera. There are ten places of the earth, dis tant from each other 300 miles and up wards, and yet none of the ten has either latitude or longitude. Londoners seriously discuss the ad vantages of placing a school of crocodiles in the Thames, to act as scavengers, and thus purify the water. Carl Voght, the celebrated German anatomist, is responsible for the theory that small-headed idiots aro a retrograde movement toward the monkey type. A post mortem examination of the brain of a Missouri pauper showed that it weighed 144 ounces, or more than three times the weight of the normal brain. A microphone device has been invent ed by a Frenchman which will reveal the approach of di.itant vessels by making audible the noise produced by them ition of their propellers. The latest cure for obesity is to par take of only a siugle dish at a meal. This, it is said, will in a few weeks re duce the weight of the most obese per son to a normal condition. If a man who weighs 168 pounds were proportionately ns strong as a fly ing beetle of the cockchafer family he would be able to push along level ground a weight equal to 131 tons. Chemical action formed a stone in the stomach of La Marshale, the famous hurdle jumping horse of Paris. He died, and the stone, a ball nearly eight inches in diame'er, is in the museum of a Parisiau veterinary. It is suggested that the muscular con traction to which the corpses of cholera victims are subject might give a clue to the real nature of the disease. These twitchings have led to the delusion that many patients have been buried alive. Aside from the honey stored by the busy bee the Rhode Island Experiment Station expresses the belief that the in fluence bees and insects exert iu the proper fertiliz ition of the flowers of fruits and vegetables is of far greater importance than is generally allowed. Fossil remains of the huge animals that inhabited the plains of Eastern Ore gou hundreds of years ago are found in the placer mine above Prairie City. A huge tooth several inches across the crown was picked up a few days ago, while early iu the summer the immense skull of some ancient species of animal was found near the same place. The color of shrimps and crabs and also the color of their eggs are known to vary greatly with the sur rounding' Tnose living in green sponges are much larger, lay vastly more eggs, which arc also a little larger, and the shrimps are green or yellow, and the large claws are always orange-red, whi'.e those of the brown sponges are red, bluo or brown. For all kinds of metals mix half a pint of sweet oil with half a gill of turpen tine; stir into this powdered rotten stone till of the consistency of cream; use iu the ordinary way. For tin, to three pints of water put one ounce of nitric acid, two ouuce3 of emery powder and eight ounces of powdered pumice stone; mix well and use with a flannel, lettiug the mixture dry on the article to be e'eaued; then polish with leather. A Rit'dr jii(l Tolt!»;gaii for Milta l . "Due of the queerest railoads any where iu the country," said Rev. I). S. Banks, of North Ontario, "is a novel line that runs from South Ontario up to North Ontario, in San Bernardino Coun ty, California, where I live. The line is seven miles long. A spin of stout mules draw the car up over the road. There is nothing singular about that, but it conies in on the return trip. "The seven miles are on a tilt all the way, although the track does not look like it. So when the car starts back the mules get on and take a ride, the car booming over the whole line by gravity. The mules enjoy it, too. They ride there in as self-satisfied a way as any other passengers, and the view seems equally as charming. North On tario, you may know, is situated at the mouth of San Antonio canyon, but thero are a lot of magnificent mountains around there. One colony, for they can scarce ly be called towns, is situated on the Santa Fe road and the other on the Southern Pacific. It is the seven miles of street railway that con nect the two. "The way they get the mules aboard is this: There is a little truck under the car, and it is pulled out, becoming an adjunct to the regular passenger de partment. The maroent the truck is slid out the intelligent animals make a start for it and step up and on. It is extremely amusing the way they do it, and the way they enjoy this ride, and i,hey are great favorites with the people." —San Francisco Examiner. 4 A Curious Difference. • 'Did you ever notice the curious dif ference in the sexes which is shown in the way a man or a woman fixes a date!" remarked a gentleman to a lady the other day. "You ask a man when such and such a thing happeued, and he always an swers, 'ln the year so and so,'or, 'About l(f§0 and something'; but the woman invariably says: 'About so many years ago'; or 'lt was so many years after I was married'; or 'The year after Teddy was born,' and so on." "Yes," replied his companion, "I have policed it in myself. 1 feel that 'l am getting like the American widow who dated all her farming operations .from or before 'Tne yesr I planted Jim,' which was hnr realistic way of referring to her husband's burial."— Taokw Blade. NO. «. THE BOBOLINK. Across the stretch of marshy ptai* The sunbeams flash and quiver, ' Among the ranks of ripening grain And blooming brakes of rusting oane By many a winding rirer. Upon whose low and sedgy brink < Th« blitho and bright eyed Bobolink Sings -'Check! Chacki Tweed l«-d»»l Come with me! You shall be Glad and free—glad and free! Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee-eef The sea wind pilfers many a gem Among the dewy rushes, Upon her lithe and graceful stem. The queenly star of Bethlehem •' Droops, bathed in crimson blushes: The sluggish waters rise and sink And time thy song, ob, Bobolink 1 Hark! "Chack! Cbackl Tweedle-deet Fame nor fee—troubles me!— In my glee—glad and free! Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!" $ Through interlacing boughs that bar The woodland's mystic bosom Among yon shadowy depths afar Shines like a newly fallen star A bright magnolia blossom, Near where the wild deer comes to drink From some clear pool the Bobolink Chants "Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee! Fair and free—wool and lea — Turf and tree—for thou and me—• Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!" The g'int upon thy sheeny coat. The splash of gold and scarlet; Who would suspect such tender note Should echo from thy dusky throat Thou young Bohemian varlet? The bashful stars bejin to blink, 'Tis vesper time, sweet Bobolink ! Ahl "Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee! Come with me —so happy we— Sorrow free—our dreams shall be— Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee-ee?' —M. M. Folsom, in Atlanta Journal. HUMOR OF THE DAT. A fire escape—lnsurance.—Puck. Better off—The man who is forced to ride a rail.—New York Journal. The victim of lynch law is usually very high strung.—Chicago Inter-Ocean. The rain always falls on the just when the unjust has walked off with his um brella.—New York Journal. '•Did you know his business had ruu down?" "I supposed so. I heard he was going to wind it up."—Nast's Weekly. A man's friends never find out just how big a fool he can be until he gets up to his neck in politics.—Ram's Horn. The man who always stops to think what he is going to say seldom says ex actly what, he thinks.—Somerville Jour nal. 4 'l wonder why the Mediterranean is eo blue?" "You'd be blue if you had to wash the Italian shore."—Life's Calen dar. •'As terrible as an army with banners" has no reference to a political parade, although the banners are terrible enough. New York Herald. The great value in astronomy as a science, morally speaking also, is that it tends to make people look higher.— Philadelphia Times. ••It is the little things of life that count," said the man who realized how much noise a ten-pound baby can make. —Washington Star. •'Mudge is still looking for a snap, I suppose?" "Yes, but he doesn't seem to have the necessary ginger to make it. —lndianapolis Journal. Mother—"Do you know why your pa called Mr. Blowhard a liar, Tommy?" Tommy—"Ycs'm; he's a smaller man than pa."—Brooklyn Life. There are men with natures so small that, if there is anything in transmigra tion, they will probably appear as mi crobes.—Washington Star. It would do away with a groat deal of trouble in this world if the gray was more evenly divided between the inside and the outside of the skull.—Chicago Inter-Ocesn. We have noticed that good people usually wait until a guest has repeated all the gossip she knows before admon ishing her on the sinfulness of gossiping. Atchison Globe. First Office Boy—"That f.'entist in room 48 don't seem to do much bus iness." Second Office Boy—"Why?" First Office Boy—"I nev« r hear anybody yelling In there."—Yankee Blade. Publisher—"l wish you would write us a good sea story." Great Author— "But I have never been to sea." Pub lisher—"l know it. I want a sea story that people can understand."—Tit-Bits. He—"Why is it that meu arc not givcu to saying spiteful things of other mem bers of their sex as women are?" She— "l suppose it is because they are too busy bragging about themselves.'*— Indiauapolis Journal. The Boston girl never hollers "hello" at the mouth of a telephone. She simply Hay*, as she puts the receiver to her ear, "I take the liberty of addressing you via a wire surcharged with electricity." —Texas Siftings. Bertha breaks her dolt and it is sent out to be tepaired. A few days later Bertha goes to the store after it, but it cannot be found. "Her name is Mar guerite," sho explains to facilitate the search.—Paris Figaro. Customer (next February)—"l want fifty cents' worth of coal, if you plesse." Coal Dealer—"You'll have togo across the street -if you want an order of that kind filled. We don't sell less than one lump."—Chicago Tribune. • So," said the father, "you desire mj consent to my daughter's engagement to you." "No," replied Algernon, who spent the summe.- at the seashore, "we don't want to be engaged. We want to get married."—Washington Star. He—"l can't make up my mind what to get for my new suit. I want some thing that, as Shakesphere says, will proclaim what kind of man I am." She —•'' Why don't you get some dull ma terial!"— Clothier ana Furnisher,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers