The late Lorenzo Snow left 32 heirs. The profession of law ought to be looking up in Utah. Potatoes form the world's greatest Single crop, 4,000,000,000 bushels being produced annually, equal in bulk to the entire wheat and corn crop. Nature's law of compensation works all right. The wholesale graduating of young doctors in the spring is fol lowed by that of competent trained nurses in the fall. By the grace of American ship building skill Russia may now claim to possess in the Retvizan, her new record breaking battleship, the latest and fleetest of the armored queens of the seas. Swimming and life-saving have been Incorporated by the government in the course of instruction to be taught in the public schools of New Zealand, and 2000 handbooks have been distri buted among the schoolmasters for the purpose. California had the smallest exhibit at the Buffalo exposition. It was a fig wasp and could only be seen with a microscope. The insect is an impor tant factor in fig culture, and the United States government expended $16,000 in establishing it on the Pa nific coast. It seems that the hunting of orchids in the tropics is to be classed as a dangerous profession. Rare species are so much in demand that parts of South America and Africa are every year searched for the beautiful flow ers, but nearly all the orchid hunters soon succumb to the tropical fevers. Glass is now being manufactured by electricity. The materials used are fused on a hearth fed by an Archime dean screw, and the arc is produced by a direct or alternating current of 50 colts. The low voltage required makes the fusion exceedingly economical, particularly where the electricity is produced through the agency of water power. According to The Electrical World and Engineer San Francisco leafs all cities of the United States in the number of telephones to population. With a population of only 342,782 it has 21,324 —a total only surpassed by New York City, Chicago and Boston. It has a telephone for every 16 inhabi tants, whereas Philadelphia has only one far every 96. Even in Canada, that land of grant* dimension aud scattered population, the tendency of movement is cityward. The towns grow in the number of in habitants; the rural districts fall off. This drift is accelerated by the use of machinery on the farms. The land 13 planted and the harvest gathered by fewer laborers; the small farms are gradually giving way to larger farms lit the tilder settled provinces. There is land in abundance, but not tho old land hunger. These conditions are very like the conditions in all the old er states of the Union. Cleveland is leading the way in thb abatement of the smoke nuisance. Much has been done there within a year, and much more is promised, due to the force of example and the per* Buasion of the officers. Drastic laws are not enforced against the owners of offending chimneys, but boiler own ers are taught the economy of modern better-burning furnaces and smoke consumers, while their pride in a clean city is aroused. One evidenoe of progress is the Introduction within the year of over 150 smokeless fur naces. The best results are obtained from the use of hard coal and coke. While endeavoring to correct the methods of the furnace owners, the city has been a sinner itself, but it is about to set a good example by using smokeless coal at the city hall, the police stations and the workhouse. Periodically the question of abolish ing grade crossings in Chicago is agi tated, but without effect As a result of the present conditions of the crossings, out of a population of a little more tha* a million and a half there were in the year 1900 330 deaths railroad iccidents. Of these, 257 were caused by steam cars and 73 by street cars. In the same year there were in New York city 134 deaths by railroad accidents in a population of nearly three and a half millions, and in Philadelphia (with a population or more than a million and a quarter) there were only 55 deaths by railroad accidents. St. Louis, with a population of 076,238, had the lowest mortality by railroads, the number ot deaths being nine. The comparative statement wiiich has been prepared by the Federal Labor Bureau should cause the people of Chicago to demand the pinking or the elevation of the tracks. Sir Thomas Llpton declares he will yet win the cup. Sir Thomas is fortu nate in the fact that anticipation is al ways better than realization. The entertainment of royalty re quires a long purse. The Czar's brie) visit to France a few weeks ago cos) the government of that country in th( neighborhood of $600,000. A California widow abandoned t house in which she had lost two hua bands, and It did not seem to occui to her how easily she might rent th< place to discontented wives. Tooth-pulling and corn-cutting have been recognized by the army author ities as specialties which must be pro vided for, so that dentist and chiropo dists are now numbered among the army appointees. Where are we going to stop, now that the entering wedge of the list of "specialists" has beer introduced? While fears are entertained that the automobile will supersede the horse in America, the trolley line has a! ready knocked out the burro in Egypt Tourists can now take a car in the main street of Cairo direct to the pyramids, and in a short time a line will be built to run from the ocean front at Pirraens to the Parthenon a) Athens. For the trolley lines and their equipments Egypt is indebted tc American enterprise. Steadily the United States is a» suming a paramount position in the many industries that goto make up the wants of the world. In this con nection a story comes from Cornwall that the arsenic industry at thai place is in a state of decadence, sim ply because America is now manufac turing the drug in sufficient quantities not only to supply her own demand but is rapidly approaching a point where a heavy export trade will be possible. In 1900 for the first time statistics oi the agricultural interests of Alaska were gathered by the census bureau The area of the 12 farms reported ir Alaska in 1900 is 159 acres, of which 104 acres are devoted to the cultivation ■)t vegetables and hay and the remaind -5d is used for pasturage. The total farm products were valued at $8046. These farms are all south of the Kuskokwinj river, in southeastern Alaska, and along the southern coast, including the Aleutian islands. From a statement issued by the United States geological survey it ap pears that the value of the mineral products of the United States in creased from $360,319,000 in 1880 to $1,070,108,889 in ISB9. During the past nine years the value of the silvei mined has not increased, though there has been a considerable increase ir the last four years. During the nine years the value of the gold has in creased from 33 to 39 million dollars; of pig iron, from 128 to 129 million; of copper, from 38 to 98 million, and the value of aluminum has increased 13 fold. The value of bituminous coa! has increased from 117 million to 221 n illion dollars, and the value of pet.io leum from 30 to 75 million. What would the women's clubs ol America have to say had they to face such a decision as was recentlj handed down by the Austrian supreme court of appeals not long ago. The decision in brief was that if a wife saves money from the amount allowed her by her husband for household ex penses, and appropriates this money to her own use, she commits what is, to all intents and purposes, a theft The case that brought this decision was that of a couple named Daun. Af. ier 30 years of married life they were divorced, and Mrs. Daun took with hei the sum of $625, her savings of 30 years. Her husband brought suit and recovered the whole amount, and the judges made the ruling that Mrs Daun had practically committed theft The increase of civilization is meas. ured by the decrease of the hours ol labor. Every step in this direction improves the general condition of men and distributes more widely there cults of labor and the fruits of Indus try by widening leisure. Store hours have been steadily shortening in the United States for two generations. All stores were once open until late in the evening. They still are in Lon don, in all its suburbs and in much ot the trade in its very centre. A parlia mentary investigation last year showed that practically all English re tail shops were open until 8 o'clock five days of the week and until 10 and midnight Saturday. Our cities have all adopted 6 as the hour for closing stores, but this has taken over a gen eration to secure, remarks the Phil vlelnhla Press S For the Last Time. s BY JUDITH srENCEB. "For the last time," Geoffrey said to himself, as with varying emotions he stepped into the phaeton and seat ed himself beside the smiling girl who was to drive him into the station for the early morning train. And he was simply echoing her words of the night before. "All ready, Alice," he said lightly, So Alice flicked the pony with her whip and they were on their way. It was a glorious summer morning and Geoffrey and Alice apparently en joyed the drive —even though the con ditions now were irrevocably changed. Yesterday afternoon she had met him at the train and they had driven back together an engaged pair. But since then their engagement had been ended by mutual consent, and this morning found them merely friends. Geoffrey Maitland and Alice Wright had known each other all their lives, and had been engaged to one another —off and on—for years. Their first engagement, while he was still in college and she just out of school, was broken by Alice in a fit of childish jealousy because he had gone on a picnic and had had a good time with the other girls, though she had been unexpectedly kept at home. But after a few weeks' interval and a due show of penitence on his part, she had forgiven him and taken him back into favor. The next break occurred soon after Geoffrey's graduation. His father had set him up in business and he wanted to be married at once. But Alice had set her heart upon spending the sum mer abroad, and when Geoffrey unrea sonably declared that she must marry him now or never, Alice returned her ring. But the summer did not prove as pleasant as she had anticipated, and she was honestly glad to see Geoffrey waiting on the dock when the vessel reached it3 New York pier. He had a big bunch of roses for her—and when she discovered her engagement ring tied clumsily among the stems she laughed and blushed and slipped it on again. That had occurred three years be fore the present time, and since then Geoffrey had had the grace to bo pa tient, to say the least. Indeed, he could not well be other wise than patient, for his first busi ness venture had noj been a success, and soon ho found himself in no posi tion to marry. Fortunately, the failure which had at one time seemed inevitable had been averted, and presently the tide of his fortune turned. But when Geoffrey was once more in a position to think of marriage he had made the startling discovery that during all this time his tastes had been developing in one direction and Alice's in quite another, and that now they were no longer as congenial as they had been. He was a born athlete, a lover of all outdoor sports, and just at present golf engrossed most of his leisure time. But Alice cared nothing for sports of any kind, and she was so entirely wrapped up in her Working Girls' Va cation clubs and College Settlements and all sorts of charitable schemes that Geoffrey was bored to death in hearing of them. Who possibly could have foreseen that such a pretty and attractive girl as Alice would all of a sudden have taken such a serious turn? Geoffrey had thought very often about all this lately, and sometimes had wondered if it would not be bet ter for them both to separate in time, rather than to marry and goon grow ing apart and be miserable for life. It bad been the subject uppermost in his mind when he had arrived the after noon before, and it had been a relief as well as a surprise to him when Alice had frankly broached the subject. They talked it all over together then, reasonably discussing their varying tastes, their chances for future un happiness, and in conclusion had calmly agreed that it would be better —infinitely better —to put an end to the engagement now, with no feeling but one of perfect friendliness and good ■vs ill on either side. "But we must remember," Alice had added with a sudden anxious pucker ing of her brows, "that this decision is final. Our engagement has been off and on so many times that even the possibility of another change would be to introduce an element of humor, to which I seriously object. We have carefully considered everything now, and have arrived at this decision—for the last time." And Geoffrey had giv en his assent. The only thing he had felt really uncomfortable about was that Alice had insisted upon giving back her ring. He wanted her to keep it"for friendship's sake," but she had posi tively refused. "No, Geoffrey," she said, "it is my dearest wish that you should soon make another and a happier choice, and it will be a satisfaction to me to feel that your wife —though she may not know of my existence —will wear and prize this beautiful pure gem. As for myself," she added, "you know I am not fond of jewelry, and I should never wear it now that its significance Is gone." "And you, too, will soon make an other and a happier choice, I hope,' he had said to her afterwards. But Alice had smilingly replied. "That is possible, though hardly prob able. I intend to devote myself entire ly to trying to help and to improve tho condition of these poor, Ignorant working girls who interest me so deep ly. That is to be my life work, and I shall hardly find time or inclination to think of anything else." And now the moment for their part ing had come. The train was at the station, and Geoffrey, who had been standing by the phaeton chatting with Alice, extended his hand and said "Goodby." And as his eyes met herfe — so friendly, but uaembarrassed—he suddenly added almost mechanically, "For the last time." "No, don't say that," Alice said has tily. "My friends are always wel come. Run down any time —if you can stand the chance of seeing half a dozen working girls enjoying their va cation, for I expect to keep the house full of them all summer." A word of thanks as he lifted his hat, then he jumped aboard the already moving train and soon settled him self for the hour's ride back to town. Geoffrey had been in his office less than an hour when the door burst open and Dick Williams, who lived in the little town from which Geoffrey had just come, came hurrying in. He was evidently very much excited. "Say, old man, you haven't heard r -ything yet, have you?" Williams questioned breathlessly. "Anything—about what?" Geoffrey asked calmly. "Oh, you poor fellow, I see you haven't. How shall I tell you. Maitland, old man, you must brace up and prepare yourself for—the worst." "Hang it all, what are you driving at?" asked Geoffrey. "I have just come in from Elmcourt," Williams said significantly. "Have you?" said Geoffrey pleasant ly. "So have I—only I took the 8.10 train." "You did? I hadn't heard of that — though I remember now they did say she had driven some one over to the station and was on her way home. It must have happened almost directly afterwards —" "She?" cried Geoffrey, now beginning to feel a strange alarm. "What has happened? Tell me quick—" "The very worst; prepare yourself, my dear fellow. It was over instantly —she was killed." "Who?" gasped Geoffrey in a strange choked voice, grasping at the frail straw of some possible mistake. "Your own Miss Wright," said Wil liams pityingly. "I knew you'd be dreadfully cut up, you were so fond of one another and had been engaged so long." The little ring in Geoffrey's breast pocket seemed suddenly to pierce him like a knife. Oh, that it had never left her hand. "What happened?" he asked again hoarsely. "She was driving home, they told me, and on the road she was overtaken by one of those infernal locomobiles. Her horse too! - fright and bolted, she was thrown out —neck broken —picked up—dead." Geoffrey sprang up and the expres sion on his face made the other man suddenly fear that he was going mad. He stood staring blankly at the office clock. "If you want togo out there on the noon train I'll arrange togo with you," Williams said kindly. "I'm goin—on the 10.35 —" "But, my dear fellow, you can't pos sibly—you've only seven minutes —" He ended abruptly when he found himself talking to the empty air, for Geoffrey had seized his hat and was gone. Out into the crowded street rushed Geoffrey, and never in old college days when he was in training did he run as he ran now. Broadway was at its worst —a confusion of rapidly moving cars, carts and carriages—but Geoffrey stopped for none of them. He dashed under the heads of horses and ran be tween cable cars, escaping so narrow ly that the gripman yelled at him in a sudden chill, but he plunged on and gained the opposite side unscathed. Some one humorously raised the criy "Stop thief!" but no one attempted to follow and none could have caught or held him had they tried. On and ou he ran until the ferry house was reached, but just the fraction of a sec ond late. The gates were already closed and the boat was just starting from the slip. Geoffrey dashed past the man who was closing the wagon entrance and rushed out to the end of the dock. Two working girls in the waiting room, who —on their way to Miss Wright's—had just lost the boat, took him for a would-be suicide and shrieked aloud. Geoffrey gathered himself for a spring and shot far out in a wild en deavor yet to catch the boat. But he was breathless now, and the space was widening with every instant. He felt himself falling short, but with a des perate effort he clutched at the boat s deck and clung there until two men dragged him up, swearing roundly at him the while. Panting and overwrought, Geoffrey ventured into neither cabin—who knew who might be there to recog nize and speak to him? So he stood in a narrow space between the vehi cles, breathing hard, and with his hat pulled low over his eyes to hide the slow tears which now and then coursed down his cheeks. On the train he sought the smoking car, where he pretended to fall asleep. He was sorry now that he had jumped so well. If only be had fallen short of the boat altogether and had been drowned before they could tret him out of the water —that would have been the most fitting ending. But since he was still alive, if he could only get the ring back upon Alice's poor dead hand before it should be no ticed that it was gone, then no one need ever know that even before death came to separate them they had bid one another goodby—for the last time. The train stopped at Elmcourt and Geoffrey, more than ever dreading rec ognition, cast a swift glance about him for some vehicle to carry him to the house. And there, right before his eyes and just as he had left her not yet four hours ago, he saw Alice in her phaeton. He thought it some mad delusion of his brain. He passed his hand across his eyes and looked again, but the vis ion still was there. She was bending forward, looking eagerly for those working girls who had failed to come, and he saw a shade of uisappointment overspread her face. Then she spied him, and her expression changed to one of bewilderment and then anxi ety. He staggered forward to the phae ton and grasped her arm. 'Alice! is it really—and are you—alive?" "Geoffrey! what absurd questions! you certainly are crazy, or you are ill! Come, get right in—every one is star ing at you." He scrambled into the phaeton, still holding her fast, and Alice drove swiftly up the road. "What's the matter?" she asked anx iously. "What brings you back this way? I'm sure you must bo ill!" "Williams came to my office and told me you were—dead," Geoffrey said slowly. "Some horrid accident—and I —I came back—" "Oh," said Alice, "I begin to under stand. Well, what you heard was partly right, only it wasn't I. It hap pened to Miss White; you didn't know uer, a middle-aged woman who lived above us on the hill. Evidently your friend mistook the names, White for Wright. Her horse bolted and —she wasn't much of a driver, poor thing— she turned him against a stone wall and was instantly killed. But—pleaso uon't hold my arm so tight, Geoffrey; it hurts, and really i cannot drive." Then only did he become conscious of the tightness of his grasp upon her, and he released her with a apology and a forced effort to laugh. But instead of laughter came a sud den sob, and burying his face in his hands Geoffrey broke down and wept like a child. With an exclamation of dismay Alice turned off from the road into a quiet woodland lane. But after a few moments Geoffrey recovered himself and begged her par don for the exhibition he had made of himself, adding with a really cheerful grin, "By jove, did you ever see such a fool as I've been making of myself; but I couldn' thelp it. Fancy finding you alive and well, after I'd been think ing of you as—ugh!" "And you cared for me—like that," Alice said, marveling. "I didn't know it —till I thought that you were—gone," he admitted rueful ly. "And then; well, I simply couldn't stand it, that's all. Alice, it's no use; you must consider things a bit. Can't "ou make up your mind to put up with me? 1 know you don't think much o£ me any more, and I don't pretend to care for all those things you're inter ested in. But then you are so aw fully good and patient with all those foolish and ignorant poor people, and after all I can't be any more uncongen ial to you than they mustbbande —and so —oh, hang it. Alice, can't you be an angel and put up with me again—'un- til death us do part'—in awful, bitter earnest?" "But, Geoffrey," said Alice, "you don't seem to remember that last night when we decided to end our engage ment we agreed that this was for the last time?" Yet there was a strange little gleam of a smile in her eyes as she said it. "But that was before you had died and I had gone into oblivion," Geof frey said penitently. "And besides, it shall be the very last time it ever is ended, I can promise you that. Alice, here's your ring, let me put it on again. Oh, if you could know the depth of my misery when 1 thought of you aa dead—and your ring in my pocket bor ing into my heart like a knife. I know you can't care much for such a fellow as I, but you said you probably would never marry any one else, and I am just absolutely certain that I can't live without you." "You poor, dear boy," Alice said ten derly. as she held out her hand for him to slip on the sparkling ring. "What will you say, then, when I tell you that I love you—more than ever—and the most difficult word I ever spok<j was this morning when I bid you good by?" He stared at her incredulously. "But then—l don't understand; why did you —" he stammered. "Because —well, I really thought that you no longer cared for me," she con fessed blushing. "And I thought you would be happier if you were perfect ly free —to choose again." "And I have chosen again!" cried Geoffrey, folding her in his arms. "1 have chosen again—and it is for the last time, and, Alice, my choice is you."—Ladies' World. The Santoi-Dnmont Family. M. Santos-Dumont, the young Bra zilian aeronaut whose flying machine is creating such a sensation in Paris, was born at Rio de Janeiro in 1873. He is the youngest of a family of 10 sons, and his father is a toffee planter in San Paulo. He is now probably the largest coffee farmer in the world. Ho owns 4.000.000 coffee plants, en~ploys (iOOO laborers, and has 40 miles of light railway on his own estate. He is known as the Coffee King. THE GREAT DESTROYER SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. "he Blood of the Nation—Mont Excess In the Use of Alcohol Is Not Due to Primitive Appetite The Power of Bad Influence. President David Starr Jordan, of the Leland Stanford University, has pub lished in the Popular Science Monthly a series of articles entitled "The Blood of the Nation: A Study of the Decay of Races Through the Survival of the Unfit." That class of philosonhers who are en deavoring to establish the theory that drunkenness and its attending vices and miseries are clearly a part of the progress of the human race will find little comfort in Dr. Jordan's article. Conceding to those gentlemen a certain amount of truth which it would he extremely difficult to prove in behalf of their theories. Dr. Jor dan says: "The effect of alcoholic drink on race progress should be considered in this con nection. Authorities do not agree as to the final result of alcohol in race selec tion. Doubtless, in the long run, the drunkard will be eliminated, and perhaps certain authors are right in regarding this as a gain to the race. On the other hand there is great force in Dr. Amos Or. War ner's remark, that of all caustics gangrene is the most expensive. The people of Southern Europe are relatively temperate. Thev have used wine for centuries, and it is thought by Archdall Reid and others that the cause of their temperance is to be found in this long use of alcoholic bev erages. All those with vitiated or uncon trollable appetites have been destroyed in the' long experience with wine, leaving onlv those with normal tastes and normal ability of resistance. The free use of wine is, therefore, in this view, a cause of final temperance, while intemperance rages only among those races which have not long known alcohol, and have not be come by selection resistant to it. The savage races which have never known al cohol are even less resistant, and are soon er destroyed by it. "In all this there must be a certain cle ment of truth. The view, however, ig nores the evil effect on the nervous sys tem of long-continued poisoning, even if the poison be only in moderate amounts. The temperate Ttalian. with his daily semi saturation. is no more a normal man than the Scotch farmer with his occasional snrces. The nerve disturbance which wine effects is an evil, whether carried to ex cess in regularity or irregularity. We know too little of its final result on the race to give certainty to our speculations. T< is moreover true that most excess in the use of alcohol is not due to primitive appetite. It is drink which causes appe tite. and not appetite which seeks for drink. In a given number of drunkards but a very few become such through in born appetite. It is influence of bad ex ample. lack of courage, false idea of man liness, or some defect in character or mis fortune in environment which leads to the first steps in drunkenness. The taste once established takes care of itself. In earlier times, when the nature of alcohol was unknown and total abstinence was un dreamed of, it was the strong, the boister ous, the energetic, the apostle of 'the strenuous life,' who carried all things to excess. The wassail bowl, the bumper o! aie, the flagon of wine, all these were the attribute of the strong. We cannot say that those who sank in alcoholism thereby illustrated the survival of the fittest. \\ ho can say that as the Latin races became temperate they did not also become docile and weak? In other words, considering the influence of alcohol alone, unchecked by an educated conscience, we must ad mit that it is the strong and vigorous, not the weak and perverted, that are - de stroyed by it. At the best, we can only sav that alcoholic selection is a complex force, which makes for temperance—if at all, at a fearful cost of life which without alcoholic temptation would he well worth preserving." Dr. Jordan, it is to be presumed, would not care to be understood as indorsing the idea that the wine-drinking countries of Europe have been made temperate by their wine-drinking. He is probably much too well acquainted with the current history of France and the other so-called "wine countries" to be in ignorance of the trus state of affairs there. —New \oice. Dancers ot Alcoholism. It is needless to enter into details as tto the consequences entailed by overindul gence in tne use of alcohol. Most of u® are familiar with cases of ruined lives and wretched homes as the result of the fata! habit, and in these days of high-pressure living it is becoming more and more com mon. Mental worry, overwork, ill-health, want of sufficient nourishment and cloth? inp- tend to swell the number of chronic alcoholists, and the habit so easily ac* quired is extremely difficult to relinquish. The real danger to the race, however, lies in the fact that the threat majority of inebriates need no incentive to acquire the habit: they are born with the tendency, and it is to this cause chiefly that we must ascribe the increase in the number 01 deaths from chronic alcoholism during tiie last twenty-three years. A reference tc the table of statistics shows that in 187 c twenty-seven persons in 5,000,000 died na the result of chronic alcoholism; in IS9S these figures had more than doubled them selves, the number then being returned a§ sixty-live per 1,000,000 of population. The following quotations point to the conclusions arrived at by some of the most eminent men of the day: "Heredity as a causation is estimated to be present in nearly sixty per cent, oi all cases of chronic alcoholism." "There are not a few human beings se saturated with the taint of alcoholic he redity that they could as soon 'turn back 8 flowing river from the sea' as arrest tht march of an attack of alcoholism. Much that has been said respecting in* sanity applies equally to inebriety. Botn belong to the group of diseases of the ner> vous system, showing a marked tendency to degeneration, and both are liable to u« transmitted hereditarily. We»tnunste» Review. ' Forbid Drlnltins Kinployes. The laws of several of the States add prescriptions of intemperanee > to the rulel of the railroad companies, tor example, Michigan forbids the employment of 9 drinking man in any responsible capacity connected with the operating of a rait road, and even New York provides fol the punishment of any railroad corporation that retains in its service as engineer, fire man, conductor, switchman, train-dis patcher or telegrapher, or in any capacitj where by his neglect of duty the safetj and security of life, person or property may be imperiled, any man of known in temperate habits. These rules and law« have been adopted, not because of anj agitation or pressure brought to bear upon the railroad companies, but because year» of experience have demonstrated then necessity. Tho Crusade In Brief. Seeking the roses of health in the red cup you may find the rouge of ruin. Why should we permit uur physicians to start our mothers, daughters and sis lei's on the way to a drunkard's doom? A writer iu the Lancet maintains that in proportion as fruit enters into the diet, the indulgence 111 alcoholic drinks is di minished. "Boss," said the two bums, in chorus, "can't \e help us'.' We're on our uppers, and "Arue," interrupted the stern visaged man, as he passed on. "you re o» your uppers because you ve sold your souls for ruiu-"—l'hilAWolnma Kacorft-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers