SULLIVAN JUSIk REPUBLICAN. W. M. CHENEY, Publisher. VOL. XT. "Washington lias come to bo quite a honeymoon city. Each of the four British Australian colonies lias 11 Scotchman at the head of its government. Statistics are said to show that the introduction ofniaclunery into manu factories has decreased the number of the unemployed. Our foreign visitors, now so numer ous among us, nre pleased to say wo have better and cheaper restaurants than even Pnris affords. More factories for the making of handles for implements have been established iu the South during the past year than in any five previous years. With no drunkenness, 110 crime, no fires and 110 disturbances of any sort during the past year the Boston Her ald admits that "Brattleboro, Vt.,may fairly lay claim to being the Utopia of America." By a simjile invention, just adopted, every lighthouse on the coast i» to identify itself hereafter by flashing out its number. This will relieve mariners from the necessity of remembering many combinations of colors anil also from uncertainty in ascertaining whether a light seen dimly through the fog is white or red. The wonder is, observes the New Orleans Picayune, that such a useful and simple device was not adopted long ago. Sa;,, the New York Independent: If the United States of America lias 110 name, neither has it a definite National air. Of course the National air called • "America" is English anil identical with "Goil Save the Queen." "The Star Spangled Banner" possibly should be considered our National air auil sung as such at the Chicago Exhibition. At Trinity College, Dublin, when the American candidates came forward to receive their doctorates the band played "Yankee Doodle" and set the Ameri cans in a titter. The late Doctor Agnew, of Phila delphia, said that catarrhal affections were almost unknown among the Quakeresses whom he attended, and he ascribed it to the fact that the Quaker bonnet protects the back of the head and the najie of the neek from cold air. He might have gone further and added that the Quaker women have come nearer than any others of their sex to discovering the perpetual bloom of youth. One meets in and about Phila delphia scores of Quakeresses who re tain in old auft; fresh, unwriukled faces, clear eyes, and erect figures. The peace and health of their spirits seem to conform face and figure. In the great momentum of the wo rn he t timed for a tutor, lu ituly, even iu the rhirteeuth Century, 11 nob!. Floivutine lady won the palm of oratory in a pub lic eouteat iu Floreuee with learned 1' lira from all over the World. I is naid that the Austrian ailth *ri ties are very much concerned about the constant heavv immigration from tin ir territoi ii i, und are doing all they eali to check ll by publishing harrow lug account* of the HUM 1!..» uud. rgoi», : by th< ir emigrants in for. ign couiiut. ». I'll.'v have lately publiahed a .tat. bout to Ihu ilfi . t that Vu»triau emi gran I* in Kratll Int. app tie I to th- u eoliaul at Itlo ill Janeiro to icqu. .1 in. HfaJiltan Ut.Virunout 1.. gut 1 hew work or a«i»i o,ee. \» ih, re •nil of ibi« inter 11 ntion, up to tin ttlbitlM Flea.i at> Uol |H|l>l In lia.l v hut »n frttiw* ahu b l , . .. _ , tjMj.il Ll atuui Ik Mfgri 1 .if*- * ol lift | b tUI "flit 4»> " got k»pl ib< |'i'«i>. bj MY QUEST. 'h. tender was the lllocs' morning For winter dead; 'ireen tassels, maple-tops adorning, Tossed high o'erhead : \n t could not tell you how It happenod so, Dut this I know, That some time 'twixt bright day and dark- Bome night, Time slipped away, v'unlshed—this airy winged sprite Who will not stay rho kings by suble art strive to unchain And loft me only hope—"Wo meet again." What should I do? Bend criers through the town To hunt him down? Or should I pray the clocks, "When next ye chime Borne passing hour, With both hands seize this truant. Timol Once in my power I'd clip his wings, ho could not fly so fast. •Vlready golden summer Is o'erpast?" At length we met, both gray and bent and old, With greetings cold, The snowllakes foil from out the leadon 9ky, And In my ears The wind's sad spirit seemed to sigh, •'Alas, the years! Whore aro the deeds thou promised in thy prime, Who now art old. but in thy youth lost Time?" —Nancy Mann Waddle, in the Independent. A GBANPJUROR. BY ROBERT C. V. MEYERS. e ir -HE da} - Marj- Ham / L ■ monil accepted Joyce, her mother w\ handed her a thon /if I sanil-dollar bo nd, '/Z/j\ her share of her C father's life insur- Mi' ir)\ ance. She thought \ Jj» of pretty gowns—to ( l —7/ be worn as a bride. Ji Then she sobered a '/ y up. David would w • think her silly, he was so practical. She was sorry for David. About a month after the engagement John Alroy was made postmaster of Garrett. He was young, quick and clever, and handsome. Joyce was busy at the store, so Mary often went to social gatherings without him, he calling for her later on in the evening. He did not dance ; Alroy did. It gradually dawned upon him that Mary danced a good deal with the post master. He also found that the post master often mot Mary by chance when she took sunny walks. In April he made his usual spring trip t o buy goods. He had been away a week when he received a letter from. Mary. She asked to be absolved from her engagement with him. The calm ness with which Mary met him told him his doom. "It is Alroy, of course?" he said. "It may seem to you that I treat you badly," she returned, "but I never knew what love was till I met him ;" and Joyce went away. Throughout the summer he saw little of the happy pair, invented business excuses taking him much from home. Winter came, and the store claimed him. April loomed up —the anniver sary of his shattered hopes—anil he heard that Mary would be married in June. In June the marriage was put off till autumn. This was the reason. The postoffice at Garrett was third-class. Out of his salary the postmaster was expected to defray all office expenses. In a sec ond-class office, clerk hire ami other liabilities were met by the Govern ment. while the salary of the master was considerably increased. Alroy proposed to raise his office to second class, so as to he in a position to mar ry. To do thin he must prove that the business of his office had increased for a year to such an extent that it equalled existing second-class offices. l,ut< ill the summer he said that this 1 WUK so. lu September all expert dis- | Covered that, while the sale of stamps for a year equalled that of an office of the higher grade ,It did not represent a corre»|MiudiU|£ increase in mailed instli T. Alroy was accused of fraud. hi .lantiary Joyce was summoned to Hi t us Itralld jlllor on the 20th of Feb lilary, IU the city, more than a bun dred miles away. The afternoon of the IKtli brought tiarrett a Minding »uow storms: tin mtiiit» wire ih'M rted, buaiut M was at a standstill. About four o'clock and gnarly dark, a lady cut. red Joyce's nrital< room at tin store. It was Mary Hammond 'I have heard, she >**!.< „ h.ait gat. a bouud. lie hud I. I thought id thai It., grMM jury. lam informed," | nhi *< if* Ob, "dtei.h if thele Is miffi |*• —• gfogud to wake out a MMW togo la. lor. till loutt You ail! hatva ii«e in I handing a hit lor or not tbue 1* a < against Ihi pn»litt*»lt I Jo>i'< « u|u» «i |t like «ugln of Hi, * If II at le In Juui (~<»« 1, yon aould cent 111 pi« tiiianl. i," *n» «aid J.,),* found hi* ton.•«!. It I km. a kiln* to |> done; l,i. I 1 ■■. t„« h In, lo 111- i< . | •v.i ,1 .. 11 ~ , | 1. 1, li j» l| .olde tt* • |Mi ilMih Ik >. alt h '» hiu, ail i >th kni a ih«t lu< *t»ll h.|f«| U>|, ai« l »Ui ««H*d ip< u lltsl hut I M||i Hi t , t, 4 t (h< 10*4 d in«nv| ll»> ali»gi «| »|| t LA PORTE, PA., FRIDAY, JUNE 30. 1893. was guilty, anil there was but one tiling to do. liove and honor contended— hopeless love, inalienable honor. There could be no question as to which would win. The following day, the outrage the insult—gnawing at him, he went on the hundred-mile journey. On the tnorning of the 20th he took oath that he would do his duty as a good and loyal man in the matters to be placed before the grand jury. In a few min utes more he was sitting with twenty three other men round a long table listening to detectives and others testi fying ngainst unseen people. How many cases were disposed of he hardly knew, when he heard the name ho had waited for. Joyce raised his head. Now would ccme the revenge for all the pain ho had silently suf fered ; and yet his revenge would be only his honest duty. His face grew hard and grim. A postoffice expert testified among other thing, that Alroy had openly boasted that he would raise his office to second grade so that the increase of salary would warrant his marriage. Two other witnesses testified as to the facts already known. "Well, gentlemen," said the fore man of the jury. "I move that a truo bill be found," cried a juror. "I second the motion," said another. "All in favor of a true bill signify their assent by saying 'Aye.'" Several "Ayes." "Contray 'No.'" Several "Nos." The foreman and an officer of the court looked round the table. "He may, or may not, have thought the sales legitimate," said one. "Oughtn't he to have the benefit of the doubt?" asked another. "It is getting very easy to accuse men in of fice of dishonesty." "An official like a postmaster," said a third, "should be above suspicion." "Rather unfair to make his wish to bo married the cause for his rascality," said the youngest juryman. "And to blame him for his ambition in trying to raise his office," said a kind voice. "Gentlemen," said the court officer, "a majority of one is sufficient to make out a true bill, and a like majority of one may ignore a bill. Those in favor of a true bill will please rise." The man next to Joyce sprang up to his feet. Another got up. Joyce counted three, four, five. "If he knew the bare sale of the stamps did not substantiate his claim, that would make a true bill against him," said a juror. Another man stood up, still another. "Only seven. Ah, eight, nine, ten, I- eleven." The juror on the other side of Joyce rose. ' 'Twelve." Joyce with a feeling of exultation that his revenge was to bo even great er than he had hoped—when he could give the casting vote to decide the case against Alroy—staightenod his knees to rise and form the majority of oue. At that moment he heard a low, tremulous voice: "'I proposed the fraud. Love for him made me do as I have done; love for me made him do the rest." He glauced fearfully around, almost expecting to see the owner of that voice—the woman he loved—the woman who had treated him so badly—the woman who had gauged his honor and his love. "Your duty as a good and loyal man —" "No majority," sang out the court officer, "a tie. Let me try again an other way. Those in favor of ignoring thi' bill please to rise." ("Your duty as a good and loyal may —") Twelve men were standing up. "How is this gentlemen," said the court officer, "still a tie." ("I proposed the fraud," came that low, tremulous voice. "Love for liiiu made me do as I have done.") Love. Did Joyce know what love was? Did he know the power Mary's love must have exercised over the man sh>' loved -the man she had ruined? Did he know her suffering now that she realised what she done? And did he think ol Alroy's love for her; of his striving after hap piness with her even at the price of that which uieu hold to be the first priuciple of luuu hiWid honor? Was there not yet a chance for retrieving, a chance for their peace, made purer by mistake uud suffering? Was there untiling higher than IIMSIM duty ? Was it duty tn irretrievably rum two lives which might yet bn made bitter? Mary would never be sure of the. part her discarded lnver played lu this cam', tie spiti her gueaaing, and -oh, hi* honor, hu h'lUtit! and oh, hi* |iaiu his hope lew hue! "Hull a tit," impatiently »uid the court ollii'cr. oh, bis houor 1 ami oh, hi* pain his hopt h M luvv ! Hut oh, Maty's liappi Ueaal .Joyce, the lhtrli "iith juror, suddenly ■hot up on hi* feet, luaklug the lua J"*") »I "Majority ' proclaimed tlu court uNteef. "the bill la ignored." I he thirteenth pilot fell in a heap to the itooi Mow York Mturitfttea. ttati laoiulal Hiibwls. \ III aay Hi.) b*». in ll'J land and lialat ta of tying the uo.trt inonial knot *l. t* iti emnlty and ibt mHytmii in lit ■UKI >*<<» thi !i llwndtl* an «ut b a tbiifty |k>|u.l|tuiM |l« that they llkt iiml to bat. tlmi io i|«|i| th< MM#t •ohKill she'll 'IV ii*all tag' la »l» <• i>d h| |ini»n(iiim Ih< "l th. (•<. [.*«lu » thi otM —f ill tin *1 i< uat thi 4 tw*i tfe* mo 1 i*«ii *»«• It,' I, lh pi 110 I l<. I < i 1 <»- kv, H|i| 'hiitg It 4»'n> THE PICTURESQUE COWBOY HE IS HAPIDLY PASSING AWATIN THE FAR WEST. Rapid Oecltne of the Hange Business tlie Cause ot His Disappearance —What He Was In His Prime. THE rapid decline of the range business of Wyoming began six years ago. Before that it had been of a character to tempt even the rich. At one time men paid two per cent, a month for money, and made 100 per cent, profits a year. That was when cows came up from Texas at a cost of 87 each, sold in two years for $22, and in three years for 840 and more, when the ranges were not overstocked, the pasturage was good, and all the conditions, including '"boom" prices at the stockyards, were favorable. The men who did the best pushed into new territory as fast as the Indians were crowded off, and kept finding new grass and plenty of it. But the risks soon came, and multi plied. If one man was careful not to overstock a range, he could not be sure that another cow outfit would not do so precisely where ho had put his cattle. Prices fell, fences cut up the ranges and shut off the water, winter losses became heavier anil heavier, and the "good old days" of this inhuman, devil-may-care, primitive, and clumsy business came to an end. The cowboys of picture and story existed in the brilliant days. At first they hail come from Texas, but iu the zenith of their romantic glory they came from every where snd from every class. Thev in cluded young Englishmen, college graduates from the East, well-born Americans—all sorts who did not "strike luck" at anything else, anil who were full of viui and love of ad venture. They got j?4O a month anil good keep during the greater part of each year. They rode good horses, thst. had as much of the ilevil in them as the "bovs" themselves. They bought hand-stamped Cheyenne saddles and California bits that were as ornate as jewelry, anil stuck their feet iu grand tapoderos, or hooded stirrups, richly ornamented, padded with lamb's wool, and each as big as a fire-liat. Their spurs were fit for grandees, their big broad fell sombreros cost more than the Prince of Wales ever paid for a pot-hat. And then, alas! the cow-men began to economize in men, food, wages— everything. The best of the old kind of cowboys, who had not become own ers or foreman, saloon-keepers or gamblers, or had not been shot, drifted away. Some of the smartest among them became "rustlers"—those cattle thieves whose depredations resulted in what almost came to no a war in Wy oming last year. They insisted that they hail to do it to live. From the cowboy stand-point it was time for the business to longuish. Towns weiv springing up every hero and there, each with its ordinance that cowboys must take off their side-arms before thev entered the villages ; wages were low down ; men had to cart bay and dump it around for winter food; settlers fenced in the streams, and others stood guard over them with guns; it was time such a business languished. From the stand-point of Nineteenth Century civilization tho same conclusion was reached the rauge business was an obstruction to civilization, a bar to the development of the State, a thing only to be toler ated in a new and wild country. And now I am assured that there is not an intelligent cow-man who does not know that the business is doomed in Wyoming, uud that the last free-roving herds must move on. There is not one who does not know that small bunches of cattle, held in connection with agri culture, must take the places of the rauge cattle, because better grades id cuttle can be bred, better meat eau be produced, all risks will marly disap pear, and the expenses of the cure of the cattle will not be 11 tithe of those of the old plan. Jjiliau lialph, 111 Harper's Ma.ua/.iiic. A I'tt pier. Slue he Hospital. Pupier-iuachc, which can be com pressed almost to the solidity of irou, promise* to come info vogue as a building material. A portable hospi tal large enough to accommodate twen ty beds has lieeu made of compressed paper. Every part of the building is numbered, and the whole can lie packed up iu such a way a» to lie car ried by three transference trueka. 1 These trucks are SO planned us to form ' the liaseH of the himpital, T shaped joists of irou keeping the fouudatiou I steadily in place. Over this coutea a [ flooring of couipreM>ed aud vnruiahed . paper boards, which adapt themselves j admirably to ehaulilieaa. The wall* : and uvlliug are of the same loat. rial, ; while the In am*, Coii!|Mi*fd ol thin galvauut-tl iron wire, connect th* | parallel wall* Hole. ar» bored ha -1 tweeu the Walla aud the ceililg; for . Ulirpo e* of ventilation, and 111. win ! Jowa are uiadi of aim gau*e ailli a IranHpaieUteo«|iiig. Hueh a building would be of great alliin IU tropical I Colin till , t qiec tally ll IU addition Ui it« ligblu. <« aud ulrenglh it can Imi | 'na li lift pi»of Siw York I'ilegiam I ail Irlrgiayb lu I bltta. Hut* can UO* It legta) '»< ui V-* iiihan* to any ui the pimt'ipal eiii** •112 China dliii'l, if Iw want* to, and M willing to pay 110 ibaigt*. tht Ibl .im land «> •!• tu baa Matte <«tln< lion* a itb tb> limwian •>*t« im aud ibt I «b --liwt < laiilli i« i« slaughtered, und today tin r. 1* little of it left 111 ihiuipartsoii with what there ttacd to bo. Thi* little ahould bt> preserved h) every legitimate lucau*. I'be ilealruetioli of the prairie chichuU over an large a porting of tb* lemtor.i where It aaaouce t'inlt* iie*| anil Htieaw. - "if lan ttaMMMutb If pit llna. Fbi two bM»ta| applt lltt* in the Mlalu ul St « V'lk aii b«'tb neat thi loan of Wilaon Ibt btlg>*t aa* 1 i,l lin Isl'i ml ibiity tbl InU 1 bv» ig a >»i*gh ttk't 11.-. • ll.'l la lb*' (aim , dun t mention imimi *, li.lt li .Mi, 4*ioually, and Jtm Will Hud fifttf— If ggMgttdy letotiU " I'bt ui»t "dun t w.t .t.« to gat., n».n UUHA imi it. ||) pla»"« I Ibt it, it trrglHrg-' than lb> ia» t abe b liatt a a ill bui >t> >< I |<4"ia« b i' I by •111 111 Hi.l 1, iirg, itilaala, which e*ei»ed wry general intercut. It waa ttie matriaga of the daughter of the Nt o| Ihtl Kightv «uth lutantry ilcgtiut'Ut. Iho young lady, who ia uoa i lahleeu yi*r« of age, ami l»a» alwaya gouii by tho Haute ui Nrtttcoot»kaia, taking her |itlti'U)Ui!>' fIMUi the reglUO'Ml, <*<** found a. # Inn* in a 111. U, by lie UMU of lh« *elui Ui»t«fcy Begin.. Ut they Vl re matching ti«'»»» I'teiua IHmifflnl't*) I h w Oi'iutlii, l*»?a the lit lie i'utktah toundting ana ti n letly .an d lot, mid «lui a MMI- '"IFHFI.nt '*■!- IT LLIIUOAII T>TTHO in* religion, hi I gmUtlla l U lag the lllgoill ill U.i (I |IUIIU| Mil hi I n 'l IITITH. I TIN PUN**** M| I IID übiifg Ihi t*sttu> ul n.ttnal. I intl I iian I* inv it*- a• > t H"'V '' 'I i<« utiltlat i gaai ilan H-' I*mUl 1 MqMAM#*' •*» i"H < *4 * Ht > «* umlat* n'• ii'i«l> I tt § m* i.ia in its tin ' ii« iK ii a •> »m ua« U* I t»-aii« «m '•««» *'••» 'h w - (.will -I H I i > * MMI hawl«