o*o«o*o*o*o*oo«o*o*o*o*o*o • • 5 Blackberries § I For Supper 112 • • • By C. B. LEWIS • § s 0 Copy tjilit. 11*15, by R. B. McClar* C o»o«o*o*o«o*oo*o»o*o*o*o*o Aunt Judy Taylor, relict of Hiram Taylor, had come ou from lowa to live with her brother and his family for the rest of her life. She had sold all her earthly possessions in the west for a thousand dollars in cash, and a few days after her arrival she had turned this money over to her brother James, with the remark: "Now, James, this is all yours but S2OO. That Is for Clara when she gets married. It's for her to make a wedding tower on. When I was mar ried I wanted to make a wedding tow er to Niagara falls, but Hiram hadn't but sl3 togo on. I've always said that if one of my nieces ever got married she should see Niagara falls if she had to wear one petticoat for the next five years." Clara was the daughter of the broth er and his wife, and she already had a beau. He was a young man from the nearest village, and after seeing him two or three times Aunt Judy said to the girl: "Clara, that feller of yours will never set the river afire, but there's nothing mean about him. He'll provide a good table and have plenty of wood at the back door, and I guess that will be Just as well as if he was swelling around and telling what a great man he was. I'm Judging him by his nose. When you see a man with his nose humped up in the middle you can set him down for a good tempered man." The brother put the money in bank at the village, but after a little Aunt Judy began to worry about It. She was assured that the bank was as sound as the- hills, but she shook her head and replied: "I dunno, James— l dunno. Of course, it's your money now, but I'm sorry I didn't see the banker before you gave It to him. I think I'll have you drive me to town some day, so that I cau got a look at him." "But Scott's bank has been here for twenty years." persisted the brother, i "Yea, I s'pose It has, but out In lowa they caught a man stealing pumpkins : who'd lived an honest life for Biity years. 1 wouldn't like to see you lose your money, and if anything happened to Clara's s2<>o I'd have a fit. She's got to make a bridal tower to Niagara falls or I won't see her married. Folks have told me that more water runs over the falls In a day than would run ; a mill dam for a week and that there's a roar going on just like half a dozen bulls bellerln' in the distance. I want to get a look at that banker. I can tell In a minute whether he's honest or not." A few days later she was driven to the village and an errand made to the bank. "James," Aunt Judy said while they were driving home, "do you know that I a woman knows forty times as much as a man?" "I hadn't heard of It,"was the reply. "Waal, you hear of it now. That banker hain't an honest man. It won't be a year before he'll bust up and Jeave you all in the lurch." "Pooh: Pooh.' Mr. Scott has the i-onflden< eof hundreds of people, and 1 don't worry over my money any more thau as If it was buried In the cellar. You mustn't get such notions I Into your head." "It's no notion, James. Out in lowa ! we had three different hired men ou the farm who turned out to be thieves, and each of them looked like that banker. I never in the world would buy a thing of a tin peddler until I had looked rt his eyes. There's something In them I always can tell. I wish that money of Clara's was out of his hands." "Come now. Judy; don't be silly. I'd trust Mr. Scott the same as my own brother." "All ri jit. We'll say no more about It. Only if Clara is disappointed in seeing Niagara falls I shan't be the same woman I was. They say that when you stand and look at all that water pouring over, the chills go up your back and you don't feel knee high to a grasshopper. Isn't there any way to catch that water In rain barrels and store It up agin a drought?" "Might be," replied the brother, who had a very hazy opinion of things out side his own township. At Intervals of every two weeks dur ing the next eight months Aunt Judy came back to the subject of the bank er, and her worry never ceased. It was treated as a "notion" and not tak en seriously. In due time Clara's beau popped the question and was accepted and the day set, and Aunt Judy was so busy sew ing that there were times when she al most forgot her fears. It lacked but two weeks of the marriage day when the brother drove to the village on an errand He came back looking as white as a dead man. Aunt Judy, who was the first to see him, gave him a long look and said: "Waal, didn't 1 tell you so?" "Scott's bank has busted!" he groan ed as he sat down. "Of course It has. I knew It would. How much you lost?" "About $700." "And Clara's s2f>o is gone with It! Only two weeks before she Is to set out on her bridal tower, and how Is ahe going to see Niagara falls?" "I feel like hanging myself!" groan ed the brother. "8o will a heap of others. Next time aome of you may believe what an old woman from lowa las, ta say. What did you hear about the bank?" "Scott took all the money last night and ran away." "Humph! Waal, you can sit here and sigh and groan, and Hannah and Clara cau g<> upstairs and cry over It. I've got to keep outdoors and walk around or bust. I'll go down to'rds the woods, where nobody'll hear me gritting my teeth." Aunt Judy went down through the barnyard and across a meadow and presently found herself at the frluge of the cool green woods. She was much put out and was using as hard words as an old woman ever does, when she caught sight of a blackberry bush loaded with ripe fruit. The spirit of thrift came to the surface at once. "We've got to have supper if a dozen banks bust," she said to herself, "and these blackberries are what we want for sass. It's funny that no one has said anything aliout them." She untied her sunbonnet and began to strip off the berries. She went from bush to bush and was gradually led deeper Into the woods. She had picked enough and was making ready to re turn to the house when she reached for the last few berries and suddenly found a man under her feet. She caught sight of his feet and legs and gave a little scream, but did not run | away. On the contrary, she placed her ! bonnet on the ground and then grabbed | the feet and pulled the rest of the j man's body out Into view. The next instant she exclaimed: "So it's you, is it, you thieving crit ter?" She had recognized Scott, the banker, at first glance, and. stepping over his prostrate body, she felt tiuder the bushes and brought out a bulky satchel, j "Well, what have you got to say for ; yourself?" she asked as he maintained a sulky silence. "I—l have sprained my ankle," here . plied. "I was wondering if the Lord would ; let you get away with Clara's money. You must have come here to hide last night till you could get away for good. I told James over and over that you'd turu out to be a thief. Why don't you lie and say you are net Scott?" "It's no use. 1 have suffered all day and am about dead." "Waal, that's a p'lnt in your favor that you hadn't tried to lie out of it. I'll lug this satchel to the house and 1 get help." Things ended well for the depositors of Scott's bank, though the banker j himself had to do a term of five years Instate prison. Loug before he was put oil trial, how i ever, Clara's marriage came off, and she started on her "bridal tower." The happy couple were gone for two weeks. [ and the first one to sight them on their return was Aunt Judy. When she had kissed and hugged the happy bride she stood off and said: "Now, then, sit right down and tell me all about Niagara fails. Is there barrels and barrels of water going to waste every day? L>o they roar like a lot of mad bulls? Did you feel mean and small when you stood and looked at 'em? Did a hack driver take you to 'leven different places and only charge you 10 cents apiece 'cause he knew that you was related to me and that I was a dangerous woman to fool with? Tell me all about it and don't miss a thing." A Fetching Echo. "Tact often goes a great way In a case," said a lawyer. "I know a man who defended an old fellow charged with stealing an armful of wood. "The judge was very deaf and had a habit of talking to himself. Sometimes unconsciously he talked to. himself in a pretty loud tone. "Now, In this case when the prosecu tor took the stand and identified his stolen wood with great positiveuess tha Judge asked himself in a louder key than he was aware of: " 'How can he identify this wood when one stick's as much like another stick as one egg like another?' "The tactful lawyer for the defense rose immediately. " 'Your honor,' he exclaimed passion ately, how can this witness identify his wood so positively when one stick is as much like another stick us one egg Is like another?' "The judge turned to the Jury, with a , great start. " 'Gentlemen,' he said, 'you will ac quit the prisoner. That very thought dashed through my head not a moment before the words were spoken by the learned counsel for the defense. Yes, you will acquit the prisoner, gentle men. I consider this a direct lnterposl- j tiou- of Providence.'" Minneapolis Journal. Camllii (rtlti'tM-i Scribe (to professori—Do you mean to say that you can infer a man's char- ; acter from his handwriting? Well, j then, what do you think of this? ! (Hands him a specimen.) Professor—The writer Is a man of some ability, but altogether destitute of moral sense. If not a downright ! villain he must be a very unscrupulous ; fellow and not to be trusted on any > account whatever. I can read his character at a glance, though not his j characters. Scribe—How so? I*rofessor —His writing is so illegible that I can't decipher it. A man who won't take the trouble to write a legl- i ble hand must be so utterly regardless of the trouble he gives to everybody who has to make his scrawl out, so viciously Inconsiderate that he would not stick at committing any atrocity , which it would cost hlin the slightest ' pxerlion to refrain from. I judge hlra to be a rogue, a swindler and a thief, capable of anything but forgery. ; Whose Is this disgraceful scribble? Scribe—Well—a- to tell you the truth, n fact. It's mine! MASTERS OF CARVING. Oar Anrrntora llad n Vocabulary We Have Quite Forgotten. What do we moderns know about carving? I say that I carve a pheasant when I divide It into two more or less equal portions. Not so our ancestors. Carving Is an art. Let me quote from an old book ou carving some of the j terms of that art: Remember that there were carving masters in those days, professors of the art. They were itinerants. They did not keep school. They went from house to house and taught the ladles, j As for their sociaj position, I have not ascertained it. Probably they were classed with the Itinerant por trait painter. Certainly they did not ■lt at table with the gentlefolk. I fear that their place was the kitchen and that Lady Mary took her lessons in that room surrounded by the admir ing maids. But the only thing she "carved" was mutton or beef. You had to "break a deer, rear a goose, lift a swan, sauce t capon, spoil a hen, frush a chicken, unbrace a mallard, unlace a cony, dis mount a heron, display a crane, dis figure a peacock, unjolnt a bittern, un tack a curlew, alaye a pheasant, wing a partridge or a quail, mince a plover, thigh a pigeon or any other small bird and border a game pie." And the acquisition of these terms was only the beginning of knowledge. —London Queen. An l.l«*|tlian( .story. A queer elephant yarn is told in the- Japan Chronicle by the captain of a trading steamer. <hi one occasion he had on board a cargo of forty ele phants. The ship was at anchor in a calm sea, but began to roll fioleutly. The captain investigate and learned that the elephants had in some way found that by swaying to and fro all together a rocking motion was produc ed that seemed to please them im mensely. So the great heads and bodies rolled and swung in unison until the steamer, which had no other cargo and rode light, was in imminent danger of rolling eh an over. The attendants were hurried down into the hold and, after a great ileal of shouting and thumping, managed to stop their dan gerous amusement. Jules Verne tells as a fiction of the sinking of a ship in that way, and the question Is, Has some one in Japan been reading Verne or was the novelist's fancy justified by a real experience? 0*0s0*0*0»0*00*0*0*0*0«0«0 I At the § Ambassador'./* § • Reception O By A. M. DAVIES OGDEN * • • § Copyright, WO6» by Eafua Patotlla o*o*o*o*o*o«oo«o»o*o*o*o*c Young Leighton went listlessly up the steps of the embassy. It had been an extremely hot July day even for Paris, and Leighton felt tired and dis pirited Itut all good Americans must goto their ambassador's reception. He sides, there was a girl. Yet Leighton's step did not quicken at the thought His pace, If anything, slackened. She was a nice girl oh, yes—and pretty and rich. Nevertheless — The rooms were crowded with the usual mob of Americans, traveling and resident, mingled among a few French people. Leighton, watching Idly for a moment, caught sight of Miss Harris wedged across the drawing room and worked his way to her. At his sug gestion of the conservatory she looked keenly at him and seemed to hesitate. Then she smiled. "Why, it might be cooler," she assent ed. "You know the way?" But once away from the crowd, amid the luxuriant green of the palms where a little rippling fountain lent a note of freshness to the heated atmosphere, young Leighton fell silent. As the girl chatted gayly on. apparently unheedful of his quietude. Leighton studied her carefully. She was slight and trim, perfect In detail from the tiny patent leather ties to the huge, rose crowned hat tilted so becomingly on the wavy hair. Yes, she was undeniably attrac tive. Yet once more Leighton sighed. Perhaps It was the sight of so many of his country people together, but un doubtedly Leighton was conscious of a vague nostalgia. Would he ever see America again? He was a tall, clean cut young fel low, with pleasant hazel eyes, but round his mouth had deepened lines which betrayed that existence was proving none too kind. Five years ago he had arrived at the Beaux Arts eager, hopeful, ambitious. lie had worked hard, he had struggled pa tiently, yet somehow success did not seem to come, and now a terrible doubt was beginning to tormeut the young fellow. Had he mistaken his vocation? From the beginning his father had been averse to these artistic projects. "There Is a place for you in the bank whenever you choose to come home and take It,"he had said, "but no money of mine shall go for foolishness and Frenchmen." Young Leighton, at first too confident to dream of failure and later too proud to admit the fact, had fought along striving to the best of his ability. How could he give up and go home? And, then, Just a month ago he had met Miss Harris. She was stopping awhile In I'arls, living with a rich old aunt and pos sessed of the reputation of being her self extremely wealthy. Apparently she had at once taken a fancy to Leighton. She asked him to call. The day after he had left a card at the Kltz came an Invitation for dinner, and henceforth nearly every day saw the young peo ple together on some pretext or other. Leighton let himself drift. He liked her, liked her immensely. To her very finger tips the girl was sensitively alive to the beautiful, her perceptions were delicate and tine, her tastes cultivated. Leighton realized fully her charm, and yet he still hesitated to put the de cisive question. Her voice broke sud denly across his reverie. "You are not listening at all," she re monstrated gayly, yet with a certain strained note below her mirth, which Leighton in his abstraction missed. "Why this wool gathering tendency to day?" Leighton laughed. "I was thinking how like a rose you looked against all this green in that pretty pink frock," he answered. Miss Harris frowned a little. "I do not care for compliments," she uttered dryly. "Pray let me tell you again that I am leaving Paris tomor row." "Leaving Paris!" echoed Leighton. "Why" "We goto Lucerne for awhile," stat ed Miss Harris. "It is far too warm in Paris now." "Lucerne!" repeated Leighton again rather blankly. He could never afford to follow her there. If he were going to ask her it must be done now. His mouth tightened. The girl, whose eyes had scrutinized his face with a certain eager intensity, interposed before he could speak. "I am going to Lucerne to Join a friend," she began rapidly, as though there were something which must be met and faced now. "I want to get there before she leaves, as I have Just heard that she Is sailing next week. We have always been great chums, this girl and I; had no secrets from each other and that sort of thing." "Yes," said Leighton absently. He was wondering how it would seem to work In the bank. Was It fair to a lirl to marry her for her money? Aft er all, dad was a good sort. If he could only make up his mind to renounce art, to confess his failure to dad! But at the thought his throat contracted. Give In; admit that he was uo good! He bent forward. "Listen," he began unsteadily. "I" But the girl was still chattering on. "You see, she cannot come to Paris," she pursued. "Her mother has an Idea that Ituth is interested in some young man here, and she would not hear of It when I suggested their coming to me; consequently I must goto them. And that Is why I am departing so unex pectedly." Leighton flinched his hand nervously. "Ruth," he hesitated, coloring faint ly. "I used to know a Ruth. It Is a pretty name. And mid you say that she is interested in some one here," trying desperately to speak with im personal calmness. Miss Harris nod ded. "Yes," she responded quietly, "I be lieve he he asked her to marry him once. I>ut she refused him, not know ing b>w much she eared. And—and then he went away. She did not know where to write, j • n see. lie had quar reled with his father, mid so"— She stopped, for Leighton. uttering a low cry, had caught h<*r tlngers In bis. "You knew," he managed brokenly. "You knew all tin* time"— For answer Miss 11*srrls thrust a hand into her pocket and produced u letter. This she opened at a certain page nn I without a \\ >rd i assed It to the young man L« Jiton's breath tightened to a gasp. "Marie, oh, Marie, ii you meet him send him back to me!" he read. The words, blurred by tin- uiist that dim mod his gaze, danced wildly before him. Ituth. little Ruth! Outside the window a splendid American ting trail ed lazily in the faint breeze, and with a sudden great heart throb Leighton's spirit leaped to answer the call of home. Yes, he would go home, he would fake fhe place In the bank. He would work, slave, force success. And he would tell dad—dear old dad-that to be a plain, everyday American citi zen was good enough for him. And then perhaps some day— Ills face fairly glorified by its new radiance; he turned to the girl beside him. "How good you have beenl" he ex claimed ardently. "How can 1 ever tliauk you? I shall start at once. Tlitre is a steamer leaving Cherbourg tomorrow. And and if you see Ruth"— faltering. "1 shall tell her that she will see you In New York," promised the girl. "Good by, then," as their hands met In a farewell clasp. "Goodby. And—l am glad." But as she watched the tall figure cross the wide room, the bortd look now quite gone from face and bearing, the girl's smile laded, a sudden wist fulness shadowed her sweet eyes, while her lips quivered. "And and I thought that he really cared for me," she grieved. "Ah," with a sudden expectancy, "is he going to turn? No? Will he not even wave a goodby?" But Lelghton was already headed for the steamship office. A S lui L*' *JM'H re lifKfnd. Visiting Stratford-on-Avon recently, writes a correspondent, I met with the | following legend, which may or may not be based on fact. It was told to me by a man whose father had lived I ninety years, having had the story handed down from his great-grandfa ther, who had lived 104 years. The | story was as follows: At the grammar school at Stratford-on-Avon, which Shakespeare attended, a dog named Fidler was a great favorite with the 1 boys. But in the course of time the dog grew so old and decrepit that the I head master, who was a clergyman, or- I dered his clerk to hang the dog. j Upon this becoming known in the ! school one of the boys chalked on one j of the outer office doors the following lines: Now that poor Flill<>r has grown so old He can no longer bark He Is condemned by th<* parson To be hung by the clerk. The head master, seeing these lines, demanded that the boy who had writ ten them should hold up his hand, and William Shakespeare did so. The oth er boys were dismissed and left Shakespeare, as tlicy thought, to have a good "whacking." But Instead of fliis the head master gave him 3 shll ! lings and promised him that Fidler should die a natural death.—London ! Chronicle. Mnkart the Silent. A good story is told by the writer of some "Recollections of Hans Makart," the distinguished Viennese painter, whose remarkable picture "Charles V. Entering Antwerp In Triumph" ob tained the lirst prize at the Paris In ternational exhibition of 1878. Makart was even more taciturn than I You Moltke and bad a passion for chess. An Englishman who desired to get on friendlj terms with the artist was told that the best way to do so 1 would be to play chess with him at the cafe to which he resorted nightly. Watching his opportunity, the English man. v. h< n Makart's opponent rose, slipped into his chair. I The piinter signed to him to play, and the game beg in and went on, with no other sound than the moving of the pieces. At hist the Englishman made the winning move and exclaimed: j "Mater* T " 11 rose Makart In disgust and stalked out. saying angrily to a friend who asked why he left so early: *"Oh. I can't stand playing with a ' chatterbox A l*UKsler For the Conirrcftntlon. Perhaps one of the best stories told conn-rii'iig the unconscious homor of parish dc s is the following, which Is taken from Dean I'igou's reminis cence-;. entitled, ' Phases of My Life." A certain clergyman served two ! churches, and the following notices were given out one Sunday by the parish clerk in broad Yorkshire: | "I bag I i give notice that there will ! be no sarvice in this 'ere church on So unlay next, as oor vicar will be preaching to all eternity (alternately) ;in t'oother church. The second notice j I have to give is that there will be no ' sarvice in t'other church Soonday next. ! as o .r vicar will be a-flsliing (officlat | ing. I*i this 'ere church. And the third i and I tst notice I have to give Is that j there will he a meeting of the parish ioners t ! >• 'O'v evening to take into 1 serious ■ :i deration what color we shall whitewash the national schools." A Wonderful Me^itrf. Magliabecci had a memory so ex traordinary that It seemed to dwarf all his other mental faculties. He read all ancient and modern languages that had a literature and was familiar with the title and contents of every known book. lie once said that he could re peat the titles of over 500.000 books written in many languages on a diver sity of subjects. His whole life was given to study. lie commonly remain | ed at work all night, and when nature could endure no more he lay down wherever he chain ed to be. and with the floor for a cjucli, a book for a pil low and covered with an old tattered cloak he would sleep for a few hours, then rise and goto work again. He literally knew everything that was worth knowing In his time, but pro duced nothing of his own. J J. BROWN THE EYE A SPECIALTY Kyes tested, treated, fitted with glass is 'tad artificial eyes supplied. Market Street, Bloonisburg, Pa. Fours—lo a. m.to r> p. m. 15 HEW! A Reliable Til SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spouting and Ceneral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters. Ranges, Furnaces. «to. PRICES TIIE LOW! QI'JLITV TUB BUST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 E. FRONT ST. OLD INDIAN PIPES. Kach Frnlber In u Stem Krprmenled an Enemy Slain. It need scarcely lie told tliat in tiie pipes of long ago each feather append ed to the .stem represented an enemy slain. If one doubted the record of the war eagle* feathers, the warrior then showed the scalps of the enemy, which were kept as a .sort of a sacred proof of his word. Such pipes were used only on occasions of peace and war. Speaking roughly, the best pipes of eastern tribes were in molded clay, the 1 est of the western tribes In slate pipe sto.ie taken from the famous quar ry west of the Mississippi. Before the great buffalo and antelope hunts, when herds of game were driven Into a pound or an inclosed area of snares, it was customary for the Indians to whiff the incense of propitiation to the spirits of the animals about to be slaiu, explain ing tliat only the desire for food com pelled the Indian to kill and that the hunt was the will of the Master of Life, or "Master of the Roaring Winds," who would compensate the animals in the next world. The pipes used for this ceremony usually show the figure of a man in conference with the figure of an animal. Others show the figures of Indians with locked hands. This typi fies a vow of friendship to be termi nated only by death. It was usually between men, but sometimes between a man and a woman, in which case the platonlc bond not only precluded, but forbade, the very possibility of mar riage. After that who shall say that the stolid Indian has no vein of senti ment in his nature? One of the most curious pipes I have seen I bought from a Cree on a reser vation east of the refugee Sioux. It Is in the shape of a war hatchet, of a metal which I do not know, though I suspect It is galena mixed with clay, the edge being sharp enough, but tlio back of the ax being a bowl and the handle a pipe stem. The odd lines in Indian carvings and woven work are not without meaning. Fighting Mistah could read a legend where we saw nothing but bizarre markings. There were the circular liners hollow down, meaning clouds; the cross, meaning the coming of the priest; the tree, a type of peace with Its branches overshad owing the nations; the wavy line, sig nifying water; the arrow, war. The ordinary Indian can read a tribal sons; or chronicle from obscure drawings on the face of a rock or crazy colored work on a scraped buffalo skin.—Out ing. POINTED PARAGRAPHS. Be a gentleman, and some people will not appreciate you. Defeat is often a good thing, as it shows a man how little he amounts to. If you want to enjoy the society of people never become intimate with them. Rich men are hated and this is the reason: We poor people are In the majority. The house is too noisy for comfort with a child in It and too lonesome for comfort when the child leaves. And there yon are. Every horse owner should ask him self this question tomorrow, "Is my house a u;ii nuce in the neighborhood'/" Look yourself over. As a man gets older be finds that the path from the cradle to the grave Is not near so long as It was from soup to dessert when he was a child. — Atchison Globe. Work In Proiipecl. "If you keep on," said the credulous layman, "you will find cures for ail the diseases that flesh is heir to. Then what will you do?" "Then," answered the scientist, "we will proceed to seek cures for the new diseases to which our remedies have given rise."— Washington Star. Serlou*. "llow do you know that voting Rounder's Intentions are serious?" "lie's quit giving me tlowi rs and ctndy and •nd cookboolrs at:.! tb'ngs." ('leveh-nd Leader. | The Home Paper | of Danville. Of course you read i iii«. l !| || I THE nEOPLEIS I Popular I A PER. I I Everybody Reads it. Published Every Morning 1 Except ' Sunday at I No. uE. iWahc nj> St. i ;i Subscription o cen i\.r Week. THE COUNTY FAIR. tt'fpi' Von Ever n Principal In nn Incident I.ike Thin} A face in ilie crowd will, as it were, sting your memory. "I ought to know that man,"says you to yourself. "Now, who the mischief is he? Barker? No, 'tisn't Barker. liarkdull? So. Funny I can't think of liis name. Begins with 'B,' I'm pretty certain." And you trail along after him, as if you were a de lect ive, sort of keeping out of sight, fiid yet every once in awhile getting a I »od look at liiiu. "Mmmmmrn!" says joi' "What is that fellow's name? Why, sure. McCoiiica," and you walk up to him and stick out your hand while lie's pissing with somebody and there's that smile on your face that says,"l know you, but you don't know me," and he takes it in a limp sort of ! t-iii'in and starts to say, "You have the advantage of"— when, all of a sudden, he grabs your band as if he were g >ing i > jerk your arm out of its k >' '.."t and heat you over the head with the bloody end, and shouts out: "Why, hello, Billy! Well, suffering Cyrus, nnd iII hands around! llold still a second nnd let me look at you. (Josh darn your hide, v here you beeu for so long? I thought you'd clean evaporated off the face of the earth. Why, how air you? Ilow's everything? That's gdod. Let me niak 1 y hi acquainted with my wife. Molly, ihi is .Mr."—but she says: "Now don't you tell me what his nama K Lot me ;':i!i!;. Why, Willie Smith! Well, of all thing-! Why, how you've changed!" Lug'-ne Wood in MeClure's. THE MORNING BATH. Condition*! I nder 'Whleli It Shonld \ot Il<- Taken Cold. Cold baths in the morning are uiv doubtedly beneficial, but only to those persons who have sufficient vital ener gy and nervous force to insure good r-r.othr. v :i!i no subsequent languor or las in; e. Many persons who are great !y refit he.l by their morning bath feel tired or languid two or three hours ai ci it. When this occurs it Is conerusl*. evidence ih ,t the practice is harmf.' Persons wh > have an abundance of bio 11 and fl. !i, who are lj'mphatic or sluggi !i in temperament and whose nervous force is not depleted, can take a c,>;d morning bath to advantage. Others who are Inclined to be thin, •>vho. i 1 ar. ".s and feet become cold and '•htmiii; on slight provocation, who dl irest fo >;1 si e.vly and assimilate it with difficulty, who are nervous and who have much on their minds should avoid early morning cold bathing. For such the bath before retiring at nlglit Is rec ommended, as It should be followed by rest of brain and body till equable con ditions of circulation are re-established. Some persons who are weak in nerve power have such excitable nerves that they get at once a perfect reaction from coM bathing, but lose In after ef fects more than the value of the bath. This class of individuals should not bathe too often and should always use tepid water, choosing the time prefer ably before retiring. The linlnea Worm. The famous guinea worm Is an In habitant of the tropical regions of Asia and Africa, existing In ponds, rivers and swamps. It penetrates the skin of unv portion of the human body without being felt and when once It finds lodgment grows to an enormous length. The body of the creature sel dom exceeds in diameter that of a large pin, and it Inhabits the flesh Just beneath the skin. When full grown It Is not less than twelve feet In length and In order to accommodate Itself must wind several times around the legs or body. Should the guinea worm find a home under the human cuticle and grow to a large size there Is dan ger of mortification setting In when the parasite bursts, as It Is sure to do sooner or later. In order to guard against an accident of this character great care is exercised In extracting the unwelcome intruder. The skin Is opened near one end of the creature and the body pulled out and wrapped around a small round stick. This stick Is turned very slowly for days, or even weeks, until tlio entire worm has been extracted. AN EFFECTIVE BAIT. ClcTf r Detrclive lit Semi After • MINSIUK Url'tor. A registered letter U mighty effective bait. The Seventy •< ghtli street wo man nibbled ut the first throw. "Of course it is for iiie," she said. "That is my name mi I that was my address before I moved h-re." "Yes, lhat part of it's all right," the postman admitted, "but it snys 'es quire.' You're not esquire." "No," sighed the woman, "but I'm sure"— "Of course you are sure," he put In, "but I can't leave the letter. This Is a registered letter, and we have to be very careful of regi tcred mail. The best 1 can do is la give you the name and address of the writer. Then you can make inquiry and ask to have the letter addressed properly." The wonn ii eyc-i the prosperous look ing missive yearningly, but since the compromise offered was the best bar gain obtainable siie accepted It. The situation was pulling. The name of her ben -factor was totally unknown. Fortunately he was situated In a down to', n office build ng, so immediately after luncheon she attempted to eluci date the myst'-ry of the registered let ter Once in, ;<ie the office she recog nized her «• utcs ; aa ' nt as the man age,- of a concern t> which she had owed s2 for typewriting supplies for the last six month-:. She mentioned the letter; the man produced a bill. "It was a copy of this,"he said. "You had moved—we could not And you- mere over, i-j'it on your part of course sti!!, l;i < 1 t > keep our ac counts square—you understand"— Tlu- woman was so mad she wasn't sure whether she understood or not, but file paid the bill. When she had gone the manager treated himself to a fresh cigar. "Rogistere 1 letters."he said, are the best dcieeti • g >ins when the person you are afier moves frequently and is guilty <>f n > greater crime than shirking a little bill. An ordinary let ter. even though forwarded to ths proper address, may elicit no reply, but very few people can withstand the appeal of a registered letter." To bring results It must, of course, be Improperly directed, so that the ad dressee cannot receive It. In that case it either arouses sufficient curiosity to bring the delinquent down here to Investigate or Is returned with the proper address marked on the envel ope. In either event we get on the track of the debtor and are pretty sure to collect the money."—New York Press. KILLTHECOUCH 1 ANP Cjy*L E THE LUNGS WTH Dr. King's New Discovery /CONSUMPTION Price FOR I OUGHSand 50c&$1.00 Free Trill. Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB LES, or MONEY BACK. PEIfISYLVANIA RJULRM Philadelphia & Erie Railroad Divish n. Northern Central Railway liivision Schedule in Effect Sep't 21, 1905. Trains leave sot'TH DANVILLE as follows: EASTWAKn. 7.11 a m.i weekdays) for Wilkes Barre. Haz leton and I'ottsville and Philadelphia 10.1" a. in.(daily i for Wilkes Barre, Hazleton Potisville. I'lli 1 delphia, Mahanoy City and Shenandoah. 2.21 p. in.i weekdays i for Wilkes Barre, Haz leton and I'ottsville. 5.50 p. in. (weekdays) for Wilkes-Barre, and Hazleton. Making connection at Wilkes-Barre with Lehigh Valley for all pomis .\ortu and South and I>. & H. for Scranton. WESTWARD. 9.00 a. M.i weekdays) for Sunbury. Leave Sun hur.v 9.42 a. in.daily for Lock Haven and intermediate stations. On weekdays for Bellefonte, Tyrone. Clearfield Pliiilips btirg, Pittsburg and the West. Leave Sunbury si.fo a. m. (weekdays) for Harrisburg and intermediate stations. Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore and Washington. 12.10 p. in. weekdays for Sunbury. Leave Sunbury 12.4s p. m.daily for Buff alo via Emporium. Leave Sunbury 1.13 p. in. weekdays for Emporium, Bel lefonte.Ty rone,Clearfield, Philipshurg, Pittsburg,Canandalgna and intermediate stations, Syracuse, Roches ter. Buffalo and Niagara Falls. Leave Sunbury 1.54 p. in. weekdays for Harrisburg mil intermediate statiohs, Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore, Washington. Bullet Parlor Car to Phil adelphia. Leave Sunbury :>.4K p. m.daily for Har risburg, Philadelphia. New York, Balti more and Washington. 4.:>1 p. m.daily for Sunbury. Leave Sunbury ;VlO pi m. weekdays for Renovo, Elmira and intermediate sta tions. Leave Sunbury 5.30 p. m.daily for Har risburg and intermediate points, Phila delphia, New York, Baltimore and Washington. 7.51 p. m. weekdays or Sunbury. Leave Sunbury S.Hti p. m.daily for Har risburg ;and all intermedial stations, Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore, Washington. Pullman Sleeping Car from Harrisburg to New York. Leave Sunbury 9.50 p. in. Sundays only for Harrisburg and intermediate sta tlons, arriving at Harrisburg, 11.30. Leave Sunbury 5.54 p. in. Sundays only for Wllllamsport and intermediate sta tions. Leave Sunbury !t.53 p. in. weekdays for Wllllamsport itnd intermediate stations. Buffet Parlor Car. SHAMOK 1N DIVISION, N C R W. WEEK I»A VS. Leave Sunbury H.io a. in., 10.10 a. in., 2.10 p. in. 5.35 p. m.for Shamokin and M t C'arinel. LEWISTI)WN Dl VISION. WEEK HAYS. Leave Sunbury 10.00 a. in., 2.05 p. m.for Lew- Istown and Lewistown Junction. 5.35 p. ni. for Selinsgrove. For time tables and further information ap ply to ticket agents. W. W. A TTERBURY, J. R. WOOD, Uen'l Manager. Pass. Traffic Mgr. GEO. W. BOYD, Gen'l Passenger Agent. LA( KAWANNA RAILROAD. BLOOMSBURG DIVISION Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad. lln Effect Jan. 1, 1905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE. EASTWARD. 7.07 a. ni. daily tor Bloomsburg, Kingston, Wilkes-Barre and Si-ranton. Arriving Scran ton at 9. 18 a. m.and connecting at Scranton wllh trains arriving at Philadelphia at 3.48 a. ni. and New York City at X.:m p. ni. 10.19 a. in. weekly for Bloomsburg. Kingston, W likes- Barre sera nt on and intermediate sta tions, arriving at Scranton at 12.35 p. m.and connecting Hiere with trains for New York Cltv, Philadelphia and Buffalo. 2.11 weekly for Bloomsburg,Kingston. Wilkes Barre. Scranton and intermediate stations, arriving Ht Seranton at 4.50 p. tr> 5.13 i>. in.daily for Bloomsburg, Espy. Ply mouth. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre, pittston, Seranton anil intermediate stations, arriving at Seranton at >.25 p. m. andconnectlng there with trainsarrivinr at New York City at ti.so a m., Philadelpeia 10 a. m.and Buffalo 7a. m. TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE. 9.15 a.m. weekly from Seranton. Pittston, Kingston, Bloomsburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Seranton at 0.35 a. in., w here it connects with trains leaving New Yora City at 930 p. ill., Philadelphia at 7.02 p. no. and Buffalo at 10.30 a. m. 12.44 p. m.daily from Scranton, Pittston, Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsburg and interme diate stations. lea\ing Scranton at to to ». m. and connecting there with train leaving Butl alo at 2.25 a. in. 133 p. in. weekly from Scranton. Kingston, lierwiek, Bloomsburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Seranton at 1.55 p. m., where it connects with train leaving New York City at 10.00 a. in . and Philadelphia at 9.00 a. hi. 9.115 p. m.daily from Scranton. Kingston, Pittston. Berwiek. Bloomsburg and interme diate stations, leaving Serai ton at 0.35 p. in , where it connects with trains leaving New- York city at 1.00 p. in.. Philadelphia at 12.00 p. m.and Buffolo at 9.39 a. ni. T. E. CLARKE. Gen'l Sup't. T. W. LEE. Gen. Pass. Agt. I Mil I 111?... la want to to aD Ms of Prating JU—— JL I 11! ' ll'S Ml. II 111 PIS. its tout. » v A. well printed tasty, Bill or Le \f / ter Head, Post - A)L Ticket, Circular Program, £ i:; 4 e ment or Card 4 (y ) an advertisement for your business,» satisfaction to you Nan Type, New Presses, . , Best Paper, Skillet Wart, " Pramptness- All you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. We respectfully asi that trial. 1 111 SI No. ii E. Mahoiiipjf St..
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers