SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. M. CHENEY. Publisher. VOL. XII. The Atlanta Journal calls fo; an in- Cisasc of the army. Tt is estimated that England ex pends annually $15,000,000 on pic tures. Writers on vital statistics state that there are two persons siek for every death during tho year. There are 280 iron and steel manu facturing establishments in Pennsyl vania, with an invested capital of over 8200,000,000. Tlw colore.l element is increasing much less rapidly than the white— not only in tho country at large but in the Southern States, avers the Chi cago Herald. The New York Independent ex claims: "One man, .losiali W. Leeds, succeeded in having the wholesome laws so far enforced as to remove from the news stands of Philadelphia the papers which are devoted to illus trations of crime." A steel rail costs twice as much as an iron one, muses the New York Re corder, but the universal use of tho former means millions to the farmers of the West. It lias enabled railroads to use larger and heavier cars, and the results are cheaper freights and quicker transportation. Statistics show that in 1000 mar riages, 332 men marry women younger than themselves, 570 marry women of their own age or near it, and eighty nine marry women older than them selves. Tho most notable difference in ages brought to the notice of the New York Mail and Express was in Camden, N. J., last year, where the bridegroom was twenty-two and the bride sixty-nine. An undue importance is given to the bullet-proof armor lately brought out by Dowo aud others, the New York Recorder thinks. It is intended to protect the vital parts only, aud the head, arms and legs are exposed. In a conflict the ratio of wounded to dead combatants is very large, and a wounded man is as harmless as a dead one for offensive purposes. Probably a body of men so equipped would pos sess a stronger element of courage, and therefore add to its efticieney; but this added daring would only serve to bring the combatants closer to gether, and thereby largely increase the number of wounded. Would not a protected army lose, in the greater number of wounded what it presuma bly would gain in courage ? The Contemporary Review says: Englishmen are the milch cows of the world. They are the great lenders from whom all other nations barrow. For generations they have been rich and saving, until at last their annual accumulations have become greater than the annual openings for legiti mate investment. So severe has the pressure become that latterly the money lender his been forcing his money into every kind of undertaking, in all parts of the world, creating, by his own eagerness to lend, the corre sponding desire to borrow. It is tho weight of uninvested money which stimulates borrowing, not the cupidity of the impecunious. Borrowing has not produced lending, but lending bor rowing. Interest has continued to fall because there are more lenders than borrowers. If Englishmen think, then, that any communities have dipped too deep into the English purse, they can easily apply the corrective by a little self-control. They should abstain from further lending. This may seem a heroic remedy, lmt it is the only remedy. Very indeed, according to the Baltimore Sun, are (ho figures from the Bureau of Statistics showing the export from the United States in the eleven months ended May 31,1894. The total was?* 834,000,000, against jf782,000,000 in the like period of the preceding year, an increase of #52,000,000. But more than half of this increase was in exports from the South, showing the decided revival of business activity in that section. The exports from Southern ports aggre gated #2*",, 700,000, or §27,000,000 more than in eleven months oi the year ended May 31, 1893. Baltimore's exports aggregated #73,9153,000 ; those of Charleston, $13,028,130; (ialvcs ton, $34,085,000; Nc\% < irl.'ans, $79,- 373,000; Newport News. $ 13.03K, 00(1; Norfolk ami Portsmouth, $f 10,089,000 ; Pensacola, $3,694,000; Richmond, SB. 1)65,000; Savannah, Wilmington, $6,909,000. These totals, ns respects some of the«e ports, are nirpri>itig. Baltimore s increase was $7,400 00(1; that of Savannah, s•> •HMMIOO , IIF SI W|ini T New SII OIMI, lO't ; .( SI n <'l I NIL- •• IIMMIIKIJ , I •mil-ton. A shortage of billions of feet of pina lumber is predicted from the great Northwestern territory. According to the Catholic Herald there are about 152,000 colored Cath olics in tho United States. The chief maritime cities of the United States in their order of im portance, are New York, Boston, New Orleans and Baltimore. The long distance electric railroads are coming rapidly. One is to be built from Columbus, Ohio, to Cin cinnati, 120 miles, and is expected to be in operation by December, 1890. Mr. Murray, the head of the fa mous London publishing house, holds that novels should not be admitted to public libraries until, by having lived five years, they have proved their permauent value. Lightning does strike twice in the samo place, the New York Mail and Express maintains, and a Houesdale, (Penn.) farmer who was stunned twice during one storm in his barn one day last week lives to certify that an old belief to the contrary is erroneous. When even electricity takes to repeat ing, the need of reform must be ad mitted. One after another, notes the Chi cago Herald, the theological sem inaries of this country are opening their doors for the admission of women, and especially for such as would fit themselves for labor in the mission field. The Cumberland Presbyterian Seminary at Lebanon, Tenn., is one of the last to fall into line in this great matter. Colonel Thornton W. Washington, of Washington, I). C., is dead. Hit death removes one of the direct lineal descendants of General George Wash ington. He was a great-grandson of Colonel Samuel AVashington, the old est brother of the illustrious first President of the United States, and the fifth generation in descent from Colonel John Washington, tho first j immigrant of the Washington family in America, who came over in 1059 and settled on the border of Pope's Creek, near its junction with the Poto mac River, in what is now Westmore land County, Virginia. He served in the Confederate army. His wife and seven children survive him. A report on the uncultivated bast fibers of the United States by Chai les Richard Dodge, special agent, in charge of fiber investigations, has just been issued from the Department, of Agriculture. Among the plauts de scribed are species found in every sec tion of tho United States, from Maine to Florida and from Minnesota to Arizona. Some of them are jute sub stitutes, while others, if cultivated, would produce a fiber rivaling hemp. Over forty fiber plants are treated in the report, the history of twenty forms being given in full with state ments regarding past efforts an 1 ex periments toward their utilization. Special chapters are devoted to the asclepias or milkweed fibers, okr.i, cotton stalk fiber, tho common abuti lon—known commercially as "China jute," but growing in tho fence corners of every Western farm - Colo rado River hemp and many others. The Republican Senators whose terms will expire iu March next are : Joseph M. Carey, Wyoming; Chandler, New Hampshire; S. M. Cul lorn, Illinois; N. F. Dixon, Bho In Island; J. N. Dolph, Oregon; William P. Frye, Maine; A. Higgins, Dela ware; G. F. Hoar, Massachusetts; C. F. Manderson, Nebraska; J. McMil lan, Michigan; 11. F. Pettigrew, South Dakota; T. C. Power, Montana; G. S. Shoup, Idaho ; W. D. Washburn, Min nesota ; J. F. Wilson, Iowa; and E. O. Wolcott, Colorado. Tlic Democrat; are: «T. H. Berry, Arkansas; M. C. Butler, South Carolina; D. Callery, Louisiana; J. N. Camden, West Vir ginia ; It. Coke. Texas; I. G. Harris, Tennessee; E. Huntoii, Virginia; W. Lindsay, Kentucky ; J. Martin, Kan sas ; A. .T. MeLaurin, Mississippi; J. R. McPherson, New Jersey; J. T. Mor gan, Alabama; M. W. llausom, North Carolina, and I'. Walsh, Georgia. In anumberofStat.es, the Atlanta Con stitution remarks, the election of Sena" tors has already either been made or has been settled. George I'eabody Wetmore will snevd Dixon, of Rhode Island ; ex-Governor Gear will take the place of Senator Wilson, o! lowa, anil J. S. Martin will succeed Hunton. Lindsay aud Caff' ry hc.ve bad tli<: ij scats already voted !n tbein and Mor gan's return if assured. (I'.'iw Sen»- tors, including D'dpii, Frtv ind-thi r>, mil Itf vi-liiiiH I nilh.it nu\ gi'iil itl-11. LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1894. THE CLOSING CENTURY. As one who, rousoil from sloop, hears far away The closing strokes of some cathedral bell Tolling the hour, strives all in vain to tell If denser grows tho night, or pales the day Bo we roused to life's brief existence, sny (We on whose waking falls a century's knoll). Is this the deepening dusk of years, the fell And solemn midnight, or tho morning gray V We stir, then sleep again —a little si eop ! (Howbelt undisturbed by another's ring !) For though, measured with time, a century Is but a vanished hour tolled on the deep, Yet what is time Itself? 'Tis but a swing Of the vast pendulum of eternity, —Henry .T. Rtockard, in the Century. LOST AND FOUND. • t RS. VAN ALTINE fly v;m Bft untor ill g | I h / /a leisurely clown one %«A °f the boulevards I* n or ' B. It was a %.\U \ft7M | lovely spring I morn ' n l?; the nir {i ~ ra was crisp and ven- W v B dure fresh and in- W&f q H viting—just the OS9 V H °' n Jft.v for i stroll, and bo the woman had disdained her fashionable equip page. She bad walked all the way from her neat and artistic temporary nbiding place in tlio American colony to the shopping district, had pur chased sundry trifles and looked at thousands of articles she had not bought; had fascinated a number of clerks by her dash and brilliancy until they were ready to display for her especial benefit the wealth of the world in feminine odds and ends, and now she was making her way home ward, care free, and happily con scious that many covert glances were cast at her stylish ligure. At sixteen she was a charming girl; at twenty-six a beautiful wife and hostess; at, well, say thirty—an irre sistible widow, perfectly satisfied to saunter all by herself along what re mained of life's floral pathway. With u more than comfortable competence, she regarded the future with compla cency and the past with resignation. Not that anything very tragic was in terwoven among the yesterdays. Ex istence had flowed smoothly enough— a broken engagement, a heart wrung for a time, a trip abroad, a wealthy suitor, a fashionable wedding, a pleas ing honeymoon, a series of social tri umps, tho demise of her better half, a briefperiod for mourning, nnd the com fortable present. She was childless, but she had many 1 friends. It is true that sometimes i something like a pang came to her j when her mind reverted to children, ' and she told herself that possibly a little one would not be at all in the way, but, on the contrary, might give 1 sweet solace to the few lonely mo ments which came to her, who, gener ally speaking, did not know what lon- i liness was. As she walked along with superb movement, she observed two pretty girls in charge of a nurse. The j children were playing on the grass be- j neath the shade trees with which the ! boulevard was lined, while the nurse, who had the expressionless features of a peasant girl, was seated on a bench knitting. Mrs. an Altino stopped j impulsively. "Oh, you darling," sho said, and I thereupon in her own peculiarly j graceful way began to question the I children and coo over them just ns if j sho knew all about tho language of j childhood. Nearby on another bench j was a little boy dressed in sailor's at- j tire, with the word "captain" on his I cap. He looked forlorn and dis- j turbed, for his mouth quivered and j there were tears in his big, blue eyes, j "What's the matter, my little man?" continued Mrs. Van Altine, in tho lan- j guage of tho country. He only stared at Jier and rubbed one of his eyes with his dirty fist. She placed her hand on hie golden curls in a caressing manner. | 'Why don't you play with the other children?" she continued. I' or answer he rubbed his other eye with another dirty fist. "Ihere, now, sailors don't cry," re sumed Mrs. \an Altine, as she wiped the grime from his face with a laoe handkerchief. "They goto battleand light and are brave. Are you my brave little cap tain ?" "I don't understand," said the boy iu English, plunging both fists into his eyes. "What! you speak English? You aie an American boy?" "Yes'm." "And are these your sisters?" "No'm." "And what's your name?" "Bobby." "Bobby what?" "Bobby Steele." "And where are von from, Bobby?" "Oh, a big place, much bigger and nicer than this." "What is it called?" "Cleveland—oh—boo—boo—l want togo home." "But you can't go back to Cleve land to-iiight, Bobby. Yon are thou sands of miles from home." "I don t euro— I want togo home." "Is your mamma with you i.i Paris?" "No in. She'i in heaven. She's dead. My mamma died when 1 -,vas one year old. I'm all my papa s got and now -boo! boo!—lie hasu t gut me. I'm lost and shall never sec my papa ae-ain." "You poor child, you menu to tuy yon can't, find your papa? "No, wc went out lor a walk and • stopped In it crowd t<- look in win dow. Then my papa went away an ! left no "At..i you couldn't lind liiiu .m\ «iie 11 r "No'm. I shall never see my papa again." "Nonsense! of course you will. Why, we'll go aud find him now." "Will you?" Do you know my papa'?" "I can't say that I do. There are so many Stoeles in the world. •Is your papa slender, and does ho wear a little mustache ?" "No; my papa's big and has a beard." "Theu I guess I don't know him. How long liava you been waiting here?,' "Oh, hours!" "Well, you are my brave little cap tain, after all. I'll buy you some bon-bons." "Will you?" With great show of interest. "Yes." "And a candy cane?" "Yes." "And a tin soldier I saw?" "Yes." "And I saw an elephant I want and i two toy lions and —" "My dear child, you evidently want | to start a zoo of your own." "What is that!" "Oh, a menagerie." "I went to a menagerie with ray I papa here yesterday. We saw them | feed the lions." "Where are you stopping here, mv child?" "I don't know. A big place. Will you take me there?" "I will, if I can find it from yonr in definite description." "What's 'indefinite' mean?" "Never mind that now. Are you stopping at a hotel?" "I guess so." "Would you remember the name of tho hotel?" "No." Mrs. Van Altine repeated a num ber of names. "I don't know,"he said. "Well," she remarked with a little sigh, "I suppose wo had better call a carriage." "That'll be fine," he said. "I've got a velocipede home." "Have you? Well, just go and wave your hand at that man with the car riage. Remember you are my gallant little escort, aud you must be very polite." "All right." In a few moments they were com fortably seated in the carriage. "How do you like this?" she asked. "It's great." "Where to, madam?" interrupted the coachman. "Yes, where to? That's tho ques tion," ruminated Mrs. Van Altine. "Where shall we go, iuou capitaine?" "Get the tin soldier," said the boy. "Very well. That will give mo timo to think. Drive to a toy shop." As they dashed down the boulevard Mrs. Van Altine drew the child nearer to her. "You don't feel lost any more, my brave captain?" she asked. "Not so much so, thank you." "And if we don't find your papa can I have you?" The boy's lips quivered. "Oh, 1 want my papa." "Even it I Bhonld buy you an ele phant and—and a real pony to ride in the park?" The boy hesitated. Ho was evident ly sorely tempted. The real pony weighed against his papa was a per plexing problem, but finally he said stoutly: ' 'I want my papa." "And you shall have him," said Mrs. Van Altine. "But I want you, too." "I'm afraid you can't always have i me." They drew up in front of a toy shop and Mrs. Van Altino and her charge entered. They purchased an elephant, a tin soldier dressed in French uni form, a candy cane, and the young man would have ordered half the store if Mrs. Van Altino had not prevented it. "Where shall I send these, madam?" asked the clerk. "Where? I don't know. We'll take them. Bobby, carry this elephant." Bobby was only too willing to do this, and again they entered tho car riage. "To the. Hotel St.Petersburg," com manded Mrs. Van Altine. She vaguely remembered that many Americans went to this hotel. In about twenty minutes they dashed up to this estab lishment aud the carriage door was opened by a big porter who looked around for their luggage. "You can take the elephant and the tin soldier," said Mrs. Van Altine, imperiously. The porter hesitated, his sense of dignity injured, but Bobby settled the matter by declaring: "No; he cau't have them, I'll car ry them." Mrs. Van Altine and the boy en tered the parlor there ivul the hand some American woman said : ' Send the clerk to ine." Bobby set the elephant of the floor and seemed indifferent just then whether he would be found or not by his bereaved parent. The clerk ap peared. " Is Mr. Steele of Cleveland stopping here?" "He is not madamo?" "Has h<- been '-topping here?" "N'> 112 ma lame." "He is itu American ami is at some hotel, probably. How can I tind him? I'll is i.-> his boy, who is lost. ' "F will send you a hotel register, a list of ;il 1 Americans at the different hotel.-." "thank you. That i* what I want." '!'!>■• list MII . duly forthcoming and Mr. \mi Mtiue scauned it eagerly. '-.Meelc steel let me.- e Smith, ''row •t , io'ii -no Steele- -perlmps .t i> further down v oaimon nam*, t■. ei ir< j.l",ii\ of Stile,- liurniMi Walker. Melville lIH ' Steele, Steele—ah, here is a Steele. Bobby, is your father's name Richard?" "No'm," "Too bad. How my heart jumped when I saw that name! What if— nonsense! By the way, Bobby, what is your father's uamo?" "Dick, ma'am." "Dick?" "Yes'm." "Don't you know that Richard and Dick are the same names?" she asked severely. "No'm. My uncle Silas calls my pa Dick." "Well, heie i» a Richard Steele at one of the hotels. We will call and see. But remember if your papa doesn't want you, Bobby, you are go ing off come and live with me." "Do you think my pa don't want me?" "Bless my little sailor, no. Why, every golden lock must be precious to him. Do you know what I'd do, Bobby, if I had a little boy like you?" "No, ma'am." "I'd—l'd love him to death." At tho next hotel Mrs. Van Altino was informed that Richard Steele was stopping there ; that he had a boy ; that the aforesaid boy was lost; that Mr. Steele was nearly frantic and that he had just gone to the prefect of po lice. "And where is that?" "Just across the way, madam. ' "Come, Bobby, wo will surprise him. He must be nearly crazy." A handsome American, thirty-five years of age, solid aud prosperous lookiug, was conversing with tho of ficial in the magistrate's office. "I will do what I can, monsieur. The lad will be taken in, and our sys tem of communication is such that the fact will be known at headquarters. I will then at once inform you of the eircnmstances." "Your reward shall be a handsome one." At this moment the clerk looked in. "A lady to see you, monsieur." "Say I am engaged," responded the officer. "I did tell her that." "Well?" "She asked if an American gentle man was here. I told her 'yes,' and she said she must come in at once." "Very well. Show her in." Mrs. Van Altine, a vision of glorious womanhood, stood in the doorway with Bobby by the hand. "Is this your son, sir?" she said. Richard Steele sprang to his feet. Bobby dropped his elephant and the next moment was folded to his father's breast. Mrs. Van Altine seemed strangely moved as she regarded the scene. Her face was overspread with unusual pallor. "I was not mistaken," she told her self. "There are, truly, many Steeles in the world, but it must have been some psychic sense that caused my heart to beat when 1 heard this name. Let me see, now; it is sixteen years since—and there he stands and does not know me. Time, time, how you level romance ! He was slender. Now lie is stout. Ho had such a dainty mustache. Now he has a beard. Really, he is much better looking." These and other thoughts flashed through Mrs. Van Altine's mind at that moment. The American turned. "Madam, how can I thank you? I—" Words failed laim. He gazed in growing amazement. "Fannie!" "Dick!" They clasped bands. The years that had passed were bridged by that pres sure of hands. Plighted faith, resent ment, broken vows, pique, misunder standing, separation—all, all vanished, and in the sunlight of the present they gazed gladly into each other's eyes. "And Bobby is—" My boy? Yes." "Sho wanted to keep mo, pa," said Cobby, with the elephant clasped to his breast. Dick, who knew all about Mrs. Van Altine's history, bent toward her as he remarked: "There's a way she could do that." ' 'Dear me, how late it is getting! So glad to have met you, Dick! Charming to see old friends after so many years ! Goodby— HO, an revoir, for I trust I shall soo you. My salon, as I call it, is quite a resort. Come and I will introduce you to many clever people—true Parisians." "Who will bore me?" he said, bluntly. "The same honest, outspoken Dick !" Then as she entered the carriage, she said: "Yon will come?" "To meet clever people?" "No, to see me." "Yes, I will come. I had intended to leave Paris to-night—" "But now?" "I shall remain—so a* to call on yon and thank you more fully for your great service to-day." "How adorable. You always were charming, Dick." "Even when—" "When we quarrelled! Yes, indeed. You were the most delightful man to quarrel with I ever met. if you had not been— But I must bo going. Be .sure and come — " "When?" "As early as you cau." "To-morrow night?" "At once; to-night. I ani all impa tient to tell you a hundred things, and—" "X will come." 'And bring Bobby, il you want!' —Detroit Free Press. The most wonderful cliff dwellings in the United States are those of tin Muncos, in a Southern Colorado cau y Some of these eaves are 500 to HOO feet from tin bottom of ttie pel tidieular side of the canyon wall, •Mid how their occupants gained iu - I ■ II- a 111 VAtel V Terms--.81.00 in Advance ; 51.25 after Three Months. IN A SUGAR REFINERY. PROCESSES BY WHICH THE RAW SUGAR 13 REFINED. Terrific Heat Kndured by Some oi the Workmen—ljlle In the Drying Rooms—Frightful Toll. IT is doubtful if there is any other group of buildings in or near New York where the fearful diffi culties under which men labor for the bare privilege of living, are so plainly shown as they are in tho towering, forbidding, fortress-like structures on the East River front of Brooklyn, owned by the American Sugar Refining Company, better known as tho Sugar Trust. The big buildings cover a space of four blocks on both sides of Kent avenue, from South First to South Fifth streets, and on tho west side of tho avenue extend to the river front, their grimy, dull-red walls extending seventeen stories above the street level. A close inspection of the Havemeyer refineries is necessary to a thorough realization ot the im mensity of the establishment, and this group is one of tho refining places owned by the trust. It has no equal in size or in the amount of its busi ness in the limits o£ the Greater New York. The employes of the great concern are disciplined with rules as strict as tlioso which govern an army. If one attempts to get into tho refineries ho meets tho discipliuo in the shape of a gruff watchman and a club, and a call at the offices reveals it in the shape of a more or less polito negative from the clerks, who will say that tliey cannot answer questions. There are about 3000 men employed in the big refineries, and these are divided into day and night shifts. About 5 o'clock in the morning half of the force can be seen filing down into the basement of one of the great buildings. Work is begun im mediately, and continuod until 5 in tho evening, when the men are sup plied with checks, showing that they were on hand when work begun. The majority of the workmen are Poles and Hungarians, and the severity of their labors is shown by the fact that they are nearly all thin aud stooped, and rarely above middle age, it being a well-known fact that men employed in tho refineries rarely live to old age. They are nearly now im migrants when first employed, and be fore work is given them tiiey must be found perfectly docile aud obedient. Tho rules of the refineries are laid down to the applicant for employment, and he is told that lie will receive §1.12, §1.25 or $1.50 as- tlu case may bo, for the first year, and theu, if his work is satisfactory, he may receivo an additional five or ten cents a day. The man is assigned to work in one of the many departments, and if he has received tho "tip" from friends of his own nationality before going to work, he trembles lest tho edict may con demn him to the "dry room." It it be that, however, he receives it with characteristic stolidity, and is thank ful for an opportunity to earn his nv - erable pittance, even under such t> • rible circumstances. When the raw sugar is dumped from the ship in which it is brought to the refineries it is placed in a great cistern near the river's edge, and is dissolved in hot water. From this vat a sweet, sticky steam constantly arises, and every little while a workmau, dressed in overalls and an undershirt, pops out from it, and in a minute or so pops back again, and is lost to sight in the moist cloud. The liquid is pumped up to the top story of the pile, pass ing through a wire strainer, which re moves any particles of size which may be in it, and is emptied iuto great cop per receptacles heated to 298 or 210 degrees Fahrenheit, known as boilers. The process of boilina; requires con siderable skill, and the men who have charge of it are paid SIOO or $l5O a month, the number receiving the lat ter figure being extremely limited, only one man in a hundred who re ceives employment in the refineries becoming a boiler, which is the highest ambition of the workmen. The boiling and bubbling sugar is passed down through funnels to the next floor, where it is emptied into a box, the bottom of which consists of two thicknesses of canvas, one being coarse, the other tine. This thorough ly filters the stuff, and the room is kept at a terrific temperature in order that the liquid sugar may flow freely, and not become cool and thick. On the floor below is another great cop per tank, some twenty-live feet deep and nearly filled with bone black. This purities the sugar, nud, after be ing used for a few hours, becomes sur charged with foulness, and is sent to the lower floor, where it is burned again. The sugar, which is still kept at a temperature >f about 150 degrees, is passed iuto another receptacle, which is made airtight, and the air and steam are exhausted by means of a pump. As soon as the sugar is gran ulated, if it is to be sift, it is let off by means of centrifugal mills. If not, it is passed onto the great plates to bo dried. The rooms in which the drying is carried on are veritable infernos. No man can stay in them over ten min utes without fallin* dowu utterly prostrated by the terrific heat. No one but an employe is ever allowed within thesi walls, and no one but an employe would dare tog > in them when the heat is on and the sugar is Irving. Clothing is discarded, with the exception of a "breech clout" and shoes, and there is absolutely no ven tilation, as the windows are kept tightly close I.and at the windows iu other rooms which are open the men may be seeu gasping for breath, aud with their hair and bo lies as wet as if they had b en plunged in the East liivei iu then short respite from their frightful toil V, v i'urk Tiibune, NO. 48, A SEA SHELL, Sen shell Murmurs swell To the ronring of the sen, When ray ear is laid to thee. From thy walls A storm sprite calls With siren's voice to mo. Sea shell Fairies dwell In thy tiny tinted hall; Dainty, fleeting footsteps fall To rhythmic strain And sweet refrain, Dancing at the sea nymphs' ball. Sen shell Dulcet bell In thee I hear it ring, While ethereal voices sing Charmingly Of the sea To the lute's enchanted string. Sea sholl In a cell All the world a prison find Far sweetor than them in kind, Thy fair portal Is to immortal Palace of a dreaming mind. Sea sholl Tolls a knell, While I hear thy whispers sound Of the waves unceasing bound, To the shore "Evermore," Saying as they sweep the ground. —Philadelphia Ledger. HUMOII OF THE DAY Few of us need a lantern in order to find fault.—Milwaukee Journal. Take care of the pennies, and tho dollars will be blown in by your heirs. —Puck. Narrow minds go beyond the deed and search for the motive—Syracuse Courier. Who ever made a dollar by envying anybody better oil' than himself?— Troy Press. It never cools a man off when tho street sprinkler throws water on him. —Atchison Globe. One thing a woman never can learn —that liquids will leak out of a paste board lunch box. —Puck. Take out of some people all the af fectation aact they will have nothing left to live for.—Galveston News. Oil for troubled waters is nothing compared with water for allaying the rampant tendencies of dust.—Pnck. He (passionately)—" You are my life." She (practically)—"Have you got it insured ?"—Detroit Free Press. "With all her faults, I lcio hot' Still," They heard him sadly say ; "The trouble is, she never will Consent to koep that way." —Washington Star. Don't fool with a wasp because you think he looks weak and tired; you will find out he's all right iu the end. —Lowell Courier. "That's what I call a good deal of a take off," lamented the carriage horse, turuiug to look at its docked tail.—Chicago Tribune. "Another dey gone," said the Sul tan as he saw the head fall off. "But it doesn't matter so long as it isn't 'ours."—Princeton Tiger. Judge—"Then you gave us a wrong age?" Elderly Female—"Not wrong exactly—ut least it was all right some years ago."—Fliegende Blaetter. If you're waking call mo early , King the breakfast bell at three. Nothing matters so I miss our Neighbor'ssinging "Sweet Mario." —Chicago Inter-Oeean. Head of the Firm—"Humph! Book er oft' again to-day? AVliat's his ex cuse this time? A lame one, I'll bet?" Clerknien—"Yes, sir; broke his leg, sir."—Buffalo Courier. Teacher - 'The race is not always to the swift. Do you understand the in ner meaning of that?" Bright hoy— "Sometimes the head feller's tire gets punctured."—Good News. If you are out of work a clean face, blacked shoes, and a nose without a blossom will be a better introduction than a diamond stud or a gold watch chain.-—Chicago Inter-Ocean. "You are nothing but a big bluff," remarked the river to the bank. "Is that so?" retorted the bank. "If I take a notion to come down on you, your name will be mud."—lndiana polis Journal. Kittio—"l heard to-day you mar ried your husband to reform him." Sarah —"I did." Kittie—"Why, I didn't know he had auy bad habits." Sarah "He had one-- he was a bache lor."—Tit-Bits. ".Mrs. Blimber is very nervous about there being thirteen at the table to night.". "Does she think something unpleasant will happen?" "Yes; she has only a dozen knives and forks.'' — Chicago luter-Ocertii. Bob—"Hello! I'm awfully glad to see you?" Di k-—"I guess there must be some mistake. 1 don't owe you anything and I am not in a condition to place you in a position to owe mo any thing.• Boston Transcript. Tonix —".My friend Soarer'.-t busi ness irei]uentlv puts his life in danger, but. I've never yet known him to de sert his post." Toildieß--"VVh°.l' • liis business?" Tonix--"He's an a ro naut. "-—South Boston News. Figg--"l've got a good story I want to tell you." -"Jla! ha! ha!" Figg--"What in time an- you laugh ing at?" "Fo.-g- "I'o.ir atjry. Vou say it is n goo- 1 «m• -; p<> of coarse I must have hjar.l it." Boston Tran script Mis. Xewitt—"l discovered this morning that we ueud :> d • : u!kt for thf haU'.kjv vii> oidiy " .Mr. Newitt •--"Is there «oi ;isr ••••idar necessity for it?' Mrs. Newitt. —"Why, cer tainly ! 1 ..-g >t to Is:» VC none place to h.di the >< \ when i K' • out, tiHVrn'c it" -'-velit'lt - low .v
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers