5 As : the boat,
A SAILOR’S
A something white came up last night,
1t was the mist, [ wist, or rain.
It wheeled about, flashed in and out,
And beckoned ‘gainst the window pane,
It was a bird, no doubt,—no doubt,
And will not come again.
And something beat with slow repeat,
Ana heavy swell, the old sea-wall,
And shrill and clear and piercing sweet,
I thought I heard the boatswain’s call.
The sails were set and yet, and yet,
It may have been no boat at all.
SUMMONS.
But if tonight a sail should leap,
From out the dark and driving rain,
" You must not hold me back nor weep,
For I must sail a trackless main,
To find and have, to hold and keep,
What 1 have sought so loag in vain.
I need no chart of sea nor sand,
Nor any blazing beacon star,
My prow against wild waves shall stand
Until it cuts the blessed bar,
And I run up the shining strand
Where my lost youth and Mary are.
— Flavia Rosser, in The Criterion.
"BRED I’ THE BONE.
By PATRICK VAUX.
It was close on sundown when the
TU. S. A. despatch boat Speedy sighted
and spoke Admiral Brainerd’s most
westerly scout, the Denver, protected
cruiser; and the cruiser’s were the
last American eyes that she was ever
to. see. In the northeast, leagues
away from San Domingo, the Ameri-
can liberation of which from continual
internecine strife had.caused the Eu-
ropean Alliance to declare war against
the States, Brainerd was feeling for
the enemy's powerful fleet, hoping to
divert its attention from the U. S. A.
Flying squadron swooping down to
devstate the western coasts of the
mainland of Europe, and also secure
the Windward passage against its ap-
proach on Domingo and Cuba. That
afternoon, acting on information ac-
curately supplied by the captain of
the R. M. S. Co.'s mailboat, the ad-
miral had flung his scouts, one after
the other, down into the southeast,
and detailed the quick-steaming
Speedy for Santiago with despatches,
and to speak the westerly scouts,
when encountered, with orders to re-
join the main body of the fleet.
Her acting lieutenant, getting the
utmost out of her fine engines and
sweaty-browed engineers and firemen,
sighed contentedly when he looked at
the speed dial. Another four hours at
eighteen-a-half gnots should see him
in harbor. He also found relief in the
thought that Lieutenant Durey would
then be in hospital. “Poor fellow,” he
muttered, as he wiped the wet off his
night binoculars. “Better a shell in
one’s innerds, and end up in a scat-
ter, than have his complaint!”
Below, in the little cramped ward-
room, Durey was writhing in a fresh
attack of agony. A suffocating sob
burst from him; he dug his elbows
into his knees. With his face sup-
ported between his hands he let him-
self swing like an automaton to the
vessel's jobbling. So excruciating
were the flames of pain within his
breast that it was as if a thousand
nerves, raw, vibrant, and exposed,
were being plucked out by their
roots. He gritted his teeth together
to hinder himself from shrieking.
Sweat beaded his heavily-lined brows
and trickled down over the twitching
ashen-gray cheeks. ¢ Gasping thickly,
he threw himself back, shut his eyes,
and stiffened his muscles.,
Then suddenly his anguish fled
away. For a minute or two he sat
there, panting with exhaustion, his
body limp and shaken; but a lurch and
weather roll made him secure himself
in a safer position beside the table.
He wondered with fear, when the next
attack would recur; then the jumpy,
tumbling movements of the hurrying
boat diverted bis thoughts,
carefully nursed
through the -Caicos Passage by her
tired officer, hurled herself up tae
dark, scething slopes flashing dimly
with kindling phosphorus, heaved her-
self across the widening troughs and
sifiashed down a growing sheaf of sea,
she jarred and groaned and quivered
in every inch of her rigid hull. But
Durey was oblivious to the many-
voiced turmoil. Within his brain jost-
ling thoughts were making a noisier
hubbub. He sat there looking dully
at the shielded glow-lamp, his squar-
ish head sunk between the even shoul-
ders, and his thin, long-fingered hands
gripping the “fiddle.”
Lieutenant Durey was of slender
build, unfited for much hardship or
physical stress. Nothing but his high-
spirited nature had enabled him to
withstand the pungent seasoning of
the gun room. However, his seafaring
ancestry had bestowed on him a tem-
perament fearless of the elements; to
him at sea it came as mere routine to
cope with and’ bear the weight of the
greatest elemental danger. From the
female side of his family stock was
the taint developed in him—his ineradi-
cable abhorrence of physical suffering.
‘At school his cowardice of a caning
had earned the contempt of other and
hardy lads. However, as years had
passed and his physique improved, he
had partly lost this squeamish nicety
of feeling, and thrcugh his profession
had become hardened to the thought
of possibly experiencing it some day.
Nevertheless, this blemish was not
wholly eradicated, and, making him
look constantly ahead to a state of
war, it had covertly inspired his with-
drawal from the service.
However, when the rumor of war
spread in the land, Durey had offered
his services again. He was comfort-
ably married by this time, with a
charming wife and babes; and until
the very last moment had enter-
tained a vague innerly hope that his
wife or his parents would offer some
strenucus opposition to his re-serving,
some opposition to which he counid
honorably how the head. To their God-
gpeed he had to join his ship.
As now he sat, clutching the “fid-
Ts cto Esath TATA ITER SAAS
sturdy seamen, brought aboard out of
a shattered cruiser, had revived all
his inveterate abhorrence of suffering.
His moral courage, too, had suffered
defeat from the sudden attack of his
malady—the growth of an internal
tumor developed by his exposure to
wet and cold when on mine-field duty
in Hampton Roads. Surgeons had dif-
fered in diagnosis, so the Admiral,
knowing his capabilities for handling
men, had despatched him for urgent
treatment.
As now he sat, gripping the “fiddle”
to keep his balance, the sudden pip-
ing of boatswains’ whistles, the indis-
tinct scampering of naked feet over-
head, the deepening throb and thud of
quickened machinery took his atten-
tion. With a curse at his infirmities
of mind and body he switched off the
light, staggered to the ladder, and
slowly clambered on deck. As he
drew his legs out of the companion,
the boat made a steep dip; hastily
banging-to the hatch, Durey grabbed a
life-line and stared about him.
The night was heavy with the men-
ace of storm. Though a myriad stars
gleamed ahead, the horizon to wind-
ward was obscured with cluods. The
strong head-wind blew wet and sharp
with spray that stung the lieutenant’s
throat and nostrils like fine salt. With
a start of surprise he saw the men
were standing by at quarters, and
amidships torpedo gear was being rap-
idly adjulted abeam. Gulping down
an exclamation—was it of fear or
amazement ?—he staggered forward
to the bridge.
As he climbed its ladder a swirling
bunch of sea meeting the port bow
splashed over the forecastle and
bridge weather-cloths. Contact with
the chilly gouts of spray restored Dur-
ey’s self-control. The drenched sub.
was clearing his eyes, when he ob-
served him.
“Hello, sir,” cried he, in a voice
charged with excitement, “would y’
not be better below. She's throwin’
a lot of water aft. Bridge's like a
mill-sluice—"’ "
“No good drivin’ her, I reckon. She’s
losin’ more than she’s makin’ over 18
knots,” Durey grunted. “Why are
the .
“It’s cut an’ run. Look there!” in-
terrupted the sub., handing his binocu-
lars, and shooting an arm west-by-
south. “Four big boats. Overhauling
us, I guess, too. We'll fight, though, if
it comes to that. Sorry didn’t report,
sir. I was waiting till there's more
certainty about them. :
Durey steadied himself and took a
long look at the distant strangers head-
ing down on their port quarter.
“They're none of ours. What are
‘hey deing there? I just reckon the
leading boat ’s a smart thing, an’ ’ll
take some lickin’,” he snapped out,
quick as his heart was beating.
The acting lieutenant nodded empha-
tically. “That’s my way of thinkin’,”
he screeched against the flurry of
wind. “The look I got before that
streak of cloud came up, gave them
away. Guess the Alliance have rua
out a flyin’ squadron also. Keen look-
outs they must have. They've sighted
us. They shifted nine points to the
west’ard, and put on speed. Looks as
if they know something about us,”
“They’ve taken the pass as we
cleared the Caicos. Running for San-
tiago and the transports,” cried Dur-
ey, and snatched the binoculars out of
the lieutenant’s hands.
As he stared at the enemy, envy,
vehement and despicable, swept into
him, for well he knew the Speedy’s
commander was cool and collected,
while it was himself who was growing
flurried and painfully apprehensive.
Was he a coward physically as well
as morally, he asked himself, and in-
stantly was eating his heart in bitter-
nesg at his inborn pusillanimity.
He was moving to the binnacle when
a sharp cry broke from the acting lieu-
tenant. “By the Powers, they've opened
fire!” and the smothered report al-
most overwielmed his voice. There
was a volcanic eruption of red-hot
splinters and sparks amidship as the
night-spent projectile flopped against
the base of the mainmast, crashed
dle” tight, he admitted, mentally, a
certain secrot gladness at his being |
sent into eick-bay ashore. While
aboard the fiagship the spectacle of
tattered, gory, living things, once
through the deck, and wrecked every-
thing in the after-part of the vessel.
Durey recovered himself from the
port hridge-rails against which he had
been hurled with the sudden toppling
of the thrashed hull. The acting lieu-
tenant lay in a bloody heap beside the
wheel, and from aft came shrill cries
and hoarse yaps of tortured bodies.
For the moment he winced, and felt
a hopeless feeling possess him, but
the next he was bending over his in-
sensible junior. A second projectile
ricochetted over the seas wide to star-
board, sending up great showers of
snowy brine visible in the night; a
third plunged short by 10 feet off the
port quarter. The enemy could play
good game at long bowls.
Bear a hand, here, some of you
le men,” Durey ordered. “Aft,
rt the wreck,” as, with the
groaning lump of humanity In
is arms, lie tried to stanch the flow
of blood from the mangled arm and
ribs. Jagged segments and splinters
of steel male ugly wounds.
Warm, sticky blood smeared his
hands and wrists; it made him feel
very gick. Disgust swept through him
at his own weakness, and with tender
but shaky hande -he bound up the
ghastly lacerations. Only a little more,
and the acting lieutenant would have
been eviscerated.
As Durey turned from assisting the
seamen to lift him down the ladder,
the tight feeling in his throat became
more choking when he realized that
the enemy were now visible to the
naked eye. The flasking from the
foremost vessel's bow chaser struck
his senses like a blow, though not an-
other shot hit his vessel. Between
5700 and 6000 yards distant he was
from the leading cruiser. Four points
off the bow Great Anagua began to
loom low and indistinct in the dark-
ness for the squally wind chopping
about had cleared the starry heavens
of cloud and the thin drizzle of rain.
Onward rushed the Speedy, throw-
ing herself up the great swells and
slapping down into the hollows as. if
lashed on by the great guns thunder-
ing out behind her. Had the enemy
surmised her errand?
Lieutenant Durey had returned to
the bridge from attending the wound-
ed. Though pain gnawed at him he
gave no heed to it. Sense of the re-
sponsibilities now lying on his shoul-
ders had revived his self-respect and
induced an obliviousness to suffering
hitherto foreign to him. He was
streaming with salt water, and his
eves and nostrils were stung with
brine and the salty northeast wind
that roared and eddied about, smell-
ing of the deep, gray Atlantic surges
and storm-filled weather. Its sharp
tang permeated his brain. It reviv-
ified the dominant instinct of his
stock.
Durey was transfigured by its mag-
ical influence. His face settled in stub-
born lines; a grim joy lightened it;
his weak, sensuous lips became hard
as iron bars. He had the omnipotent
look of the man who goes forth to
death knowing it is the best fight of
all.
Crash went a heavy projectile
through the cap cof the port smoke-
stack, and smoke and flame poured in
a lurid cloud to windward.
As Durey threw a defiant look at the
cruiser again spouting fire, the second
artificer reported water rising fast
in the after stokehold. The projectile
which had wrecked the after-part of
the boat must have started some plates.
Durey now had no hesitation. He
bent over the bridge rail. “On deck,
there. The gunner to the bridge.
. .” Calmly and incisively he is-
sued his orders. Then “Up helm”
electrified the gun crews, yet their
hoarse cheering brought no change to
their officer’s iron-clad expression; his
voice but rang the harder and more
despotic as he gave the sighting
ranges to torpedo and gun. For his
line had claimed him heart and soul.
Who can tell how many fierce-
hearted forebears’ blood sang joyous-
ly in his pulsing body at he thrust his
weak vessel against the enemy, now
opening a terrific cannonading? And
what thoughts thronged his cluttering
senses as the four great, thundering
cruisers loomed large upon his bows.
Who of his forebears claimed him
then? . .
It was not till the war was over
that the Speedy’s fate was known.—
The Critericn.
A Horse's Sense of Smell.
A horse will leave musty hay un-
touched in his bin, however hungry.
He will not drink water objection-
able to his questioning sniff, or from a
bucket which some odor makes offen:
sive, however thirsty. His intelligent
nostril will widen, quiver and query
over the daintiest bit offered by the
fairest of hands, with coaxings that
would make a mortal shut his eyes
and swallow a mouthful at a gulp. A
mare is never satisfied by either sight
or whinny that her colt is really her
own until she has a certified nasal
proof of the fact. A blind horse, now
living, will not allow the approach of
any stranger without showing signs
of anger not safely to be disregarded.
The distinction is evidently made by
his sense of smell, and at a consider-
able distance. Blind horses, as a rule,
will gallop wildly about a pasture with-
out striking the surrounding fence.
The sense of smell informs them of its
proximity. Others will, when loos-
ened from the stable, go direct to the
gate or bars opened to their accus-
tomed feeding grounds, and when de-
siring to return, after hours of care-
less wandering, will distinguish one
outlet, and patiently awaits its open-
ing.—St. James Gazette.
The Higher Allegiance to Hymen,
A St. Louis man disregarded a sum-
mions to serve on a jury because his
marriage to a St. Louis woman had
been set for the same hour. He
thought he knew which court order to
obey.— Richmond Times.
Thought She Had It
A little girl in an uptown kindergar-
ten was learning to read and spell, but
it was very hard for her to remember
what her teacher told her about pro-
nouncing a double letter when she
came to one. She would say “a—a” or
“e—e” or “t—t’ instead of ‘double
a” or “double e,” etc. Her teacher
had one day drilled her considerably
on this matter in spelling. Shortly af-
terward the little girl was called on
to read. The paragraph began, “Up,
up, Mabel,” and the little girl read it
triumphantly, “Double up, Mabel!”—
New York Herald.
Ninety-two thousands pounds has
been provided by the British Admiral-
ty this year for the payment of good
| conduct money to patty officers and
| bluejackets.
A SCHOOL FOR BARBERS.
WHERE "TCNSORIAL ARTISTS” ARE
TAUGHT SECRETS OF THE CRAFT.
How They Obtain Material for Practice
Strange Characters Who Take Advan-
tage of the Opportunity of Having
Their Hair Cut and Shave for Nothing.
One of the most curious of the many
strange institutions of New York City
is a school established not long ago
on the East Side, where young men
and boys are taught to become skilled
barbers. In this school long rows of
barber's apprentices are at work all
day throughout the course, scraping
diligently at sundry stolid counten-
ances provided for ‘clinic material.”
When not working in this capacity,
the majority of the faces so used
might be met on the Bowery or in
kindred regions, surmounting the
slouching frames typical of America’s
leisure class. Some are placid coun-
tenances, bearing evidence of a Mi-
cawber-like trust in potential good
luck; others are sullen or troubled,
with the hunted look that comes to
the face of a man out of a job; but
each and every one is the better for
a free shave and haircut, even when
awkwardly done by unaccustomed
hands.
In order that material for practice
may be plentiful and at “hand the
school is situated far down town,
where trafiic of every sort is thickest
and where the great city’s voice takes
on its deepest and most insistent tone.
With the first drowsy growls of that
multiple voice at dawn, the men be-
gin to gather and form in line at the
entrance to the building. Many of
them have stood for hours in the mid-
night bread line on Broadway that
they might break their fast at least
once in the 24 hours, and now come
to be freshened up as much as possi-
ble before starting forth again en the
weary quest for work; others, equally
alive to the advantages of being shav-
en and shorn and made as presentable
as may be, come by way of living up
to their life principle of getting some-
thing for nothing, and getting it be-
fore any one else.
At 9 o'clock the school is opened
and work begins. Men come and go
all day, and the aspirants to barber
craft work like beavers, getting more
practice in one day than they would
get in a month under the old method
of apprenticeship. All sorts and con-
ditions of men come under their hands
tramps, vagabonds, crooks, workmen
out of a job, gentleman adventurers
down on their luck, fat men, shriv-
elled men, smooth men, gnarled men,
men with skins like rubber, and men
surfaced like nutmeg graters, downy
youth and stubbly eld—here is expe-
rience varied enough to qualify any
one. Only three kinds of men are
barred—the unclean, the intoxicated
and the men who have once stolen,
begged or given any manner of trouble
in the school. One offence is sufficient
here. The master barber, quiet and
alert, has an unerring eye and a
strong arm, and woe to the man who
sneaks in for a shave after having
been forbidden the place.
This gray November raorning, when
the master barber told of the teaching
and learning ef his craft, saw about
200 men sitting on benches in the
darkest corner of the workroom, await-
ing their turn. The big room was din-
gy but clean, well lighted from one
side, and sparsely furnished with two
long workstands running from wall
to wall and flanked by double rows of
well worn barber chairs. These were
all filled, and the ranks of busy bar-
berlings were hard at work. Most of
them were boys, ranging in age from
16 to 20 years, but here and there an
older man stood by one of the chairs,
léarning his trade at a time when
most men are well established in life.
One cheery old fellow, with hair as
white as snow, worked patiently
among the students, though at best
it could be but a few years before
hand and eye would fail, and dexterity
with the razor would be a thing of the
past. All the students worked steadily
and conscientiously, aided now and
again by a hint from the master bar-
ber as he strolled up and down the
lines. Some of the beginners attacked
the task before them with nervous,
painstaking care, each grasping the
razor hatchetwise in tense hands and
dragging it like a gravel crusher
across the unresisting jaw of his es-
pecial segment of clinic material.
Others, presumably the born barbers
or the more advanced students, worked
freely and confidently, wrist and el-
bow loose and the razor held. light.
Constantly from the waiting benches
mer went and came, and contrary to
ai) traditions of barbarian loquacity,
the work was carried on in almost
unbroken silence.
“We have students here from all
parts of the United States, Canada, the
West Indies and even England,” said
the master barber. “There are first-
class barbers among all nationalities,
of course, but the men who take most
readily to the work are usually Ital-
fans or Germans. Italians are as lim-
ber and loose muscled as cats, and
Germans don’t get nervous and afraid
of the razor. That is the difficulty
with women. There is a big demand
for women barbers, and we have num-
bers of them come here to learn the
trade. They make good barbers in
time, for women are quick and light-
handed, but most of them are scared
to death of the razor and live in terror
of cutting somebody's throat. It's a
profitable business for ‘them, though,
for they usually learn all branches,
from shaving to hairdressing and
manicuring, and they command big
wages and get liberal tips. Barbers
like to employ them. They are steady
and work well and the crankiest cus-
tomer isn’t going to complain of his
shave or haircut if it is done by a pret-
ty girl. No, it isn’t an unpleasant
trade for a woman unless she makes
it so for herself.
“How do we.start a beginner? Just
by giving a man a set of instruments
and somebody to practise on, and set-
ting him to work. He can’t learn to
be a barber by looking on and being
told about it, any more than he could
learn to ride a bicycle by watching
somebody else. When a beginner is
ready for work I make him put in the
first day learning how to hone and
strop his razor. Then I assign him to
a chair and let him look on while I
shave a man. The next man he lath-
ers in and I give the first shave, let-
ting the student finish him. In shav-
ing you always go twice over a man’s
face, once with the grain and then
against it. The third man the student
takes alone, while I look on and cor-
rect him when he goes wrong. + After
that he needs only occasional super-
vision, unless he gets hold of an es-
pecially tough subject.
“After four days of steady shaving
we let the student try his hand at
hair cutting. That's harder than the
shaving, but all I can do is to give
him a pair of scissors and show him
haw to hold them, and let him go
ahead, while I stand by and tell him
where he is wrong. He has to get the
knack of it himself, and the whole
secret of good barbering lies in that
knack. It is easy to get if a man has
a light hand, a loose wrist and steady
nerves to start with, but anybody can
get it with time and practice. It all
lies in practice, and the value of a
place like this is that the student is
practising every moment of the work-
ing hours. We shave and cut the hair
of over a thousand men every day,
and we average about 50 students to
do the work, so they haven't much
time to stand around and talk about
how it ought to be done or to watch
somebody else.
“Before any training schools for bar-
bers were established—and they only
date from the World's fair—a man
could not learn the trade anywhere
but in a small shop. The big shops
won’t bother with green hands. When
a man wanted to be a barber he had
to go to some little shop and start in
as porter. He might put in six or
eight months sweeping and dusting
and running errands before he was al-
lowed to touch a razor. Then he was
put at honing and stropping the ra-
zors, cleaning combs and brushes, and
finally at lathering in, combing hair
after it was cut, and putting on the
bay rum. For real work he had to
wait his chance until some extra good
natured man came in who didn’t mind
being shaved by a raw hand, anf such
men are not so plenty as they miight
be. Hair cutting was out of the ques-
tion unless there was a big rush on
or a boy came in. Boys don’t mind
how their hair looks, but most men
are fussier about a haircut than any-
thing else. Of course a bright young
fellow with his wits about him could
get the knack in time, but it was slow
work because he couldn’t get real prac-
tice enough to keep his hand in.
“Here, after seven weeks of steady
practice in shaving and hair cutting,
the student is ready to go into the
finishing' room. There he is taught
hair dressing, how to singe and sham-
poo, how to use tonics and dyes, and
finally how to trim the mustache and
beard. That takes another week, and
then the man is ready for his diploma
and is fit for any shop in the city. Oh,
yes; there are positions enough for
them. We have more applications for
trained workmen than we can fill.
“The older men here? Most of them
are learning the trade, not to work at
it themselves, but to open shops and
employ men to do the work. They
have to know how it ought to be done,
for it is bad policy for the owner of
a shop to discover a bad workman only
through the complaints of his custom-
ers. Yes, this is the only barber school
in existence. We have branches in
all the principal cities of the United
States, but they are all under one
management. So far the enterprise
has been very successful.”—New York
Post.
A Champion Snake Hunter.
It is not well known that certain
parts of France are infested with pois-
onous serpents, against which warfare
is waged by state-paid serpent hunters.
They are killed in thousands, and the
price per head is 2 1-2d. There was
some time ago a famous serpent Killer
in the forests of Southampton, John
Milly, who in forty-two years of hunt-
ing killed more than 29,000 vipers. A
Frenchman named Courtol, who hunted
in the Loire district, can be compared
to Milly, as he was credited with hav-
ing killed 30,000 venemous reptiles. His
only weapons were one or two massive
sticks. As soon as he saw the serpent
he advanced and hit it violently, either
killing or stunning it; with the seconé
stick he pinned it to earth and cut
off the head with a huge pair of scis-
sors. But along with these simple
weapons Courtol possessed a thorough
knowledge of the habits of serpents. He
knew when and where to find them. In
two days near Puy-a-Clermont he
killed 230 of them, and not only did
he kill the poisonous creatures but he
would capture them living when de-
sired.—London Tatler.
A Pertinent Question.
An inquisitive visitor to the Hamp-
ton institute for Indians not long ago
asked one of the students, a pretty
Sioux: “Are you civilized?” The
Sioux raised her head slowly from her
work—she was fashioning a bread-
board at the moment—and replied:
“No; are you?’—Argonaut.
Vaccination is mow being literally
tried on the dog, as a preventive of dis-
temper. The experiments are being con-
ducted on a pack of hounds in Wales,
STONE SINE NCHS CONDENSED
PENSIONS GRANTED.
New Coke Railrcad—Sentenced for
Six Years—Raising Perry's Flag-
ship—Liguor Licenses. 4
ERE |
Pensions were granted to the fol-
lowing applicants during the past
week: Joseph DPropeck, Waterford,
$6; James Capstick, Conemaugh, $8;
John Cessna, Gastown, $8; John®
Eichenauer, Allegheny, $8; John A.
George, Vandergrift, 38; Moses K.
Etheridge, Edinboro, $8; Thomas C.
Rigden, Shannondale, $10; Simon
Rider, Mechanicsburg. $10; : james
Weaver, Sayres, $8; Jacob Kramer,
Soliders’ Home, Erie, $12; William
Younz, Washington, $12; Michael
Shottsbarger, fort Royal, $12; Geo.
Hayden, Greensburg, 312; Philpine
Weiss, Pittsburg, $8; Matilda Firth,
Alfaratas, $8; Frederick O. Dupont.
Rockford, $8; Casper J.. Gelnett,:-
I'ubois, $10; William A. Cavett, East
Smithfield, $17; Graffius Weston,
Port Matilda, $17.
The Erie chamber of commerce has
again taken the matter of securing
funds from Congress for raising the
Perry flagship, the Niagara, which
lies sunken in the Missery bay, Pres-
que Isle harbor. A petition asking
for an appropriation of $10,000 will
be “sent to Congress. The Pennsyl-
vania Sailors’ Heme commission will
be asked to furnish a place on the
grounds of the Soldiers’ Home here
for the predervaticn of the ancient
hulk. If Congress fails to appropriate
the money the State Legislature will
be asked to provide it.
Work has been started on the con-
struction of the Connellsville Central
railroad, which will run from Buffing-
ton station, Fayette county, to the
plant of the Union Steel Company at
Donora. The road will be 21 miles
long. It will be used to haul coke
from the coking plant of the Republic
Coke Company, a subsidiary interest
of the Union Steel Company, which
will develop about 3,000 acres of
coking coal. About 800 ovens will be
operated.
The Altoona Academy of Medicine
and Surgery elected the following of-
ficers: President, William H. How-
ell; first vice president, H. R. Smith;
second vice president; W. S. Ross;
corresponding secretary, J. E. Smith;
recording secretary, J. W. Rowe;
treasurer, 8. L. McCarthy: trustee,
Jchr Fay. The physicians discussed
the prevalence of smallpox and the
riethods that should be used to
stamp it out.
The case cf Arthur Wadsworth, the
eighteenth regiment soldier, who on
October 8 shot and Killed William
Durham, a striker in Schuylkill coun-
ty during the anthracite coal strike,
came hefore the State Supreme Court
at Philadelphia, for argument. The
court took the papers and reserved
decision.
William Newton was sentenced by
Judge Bregy at Philadelphia to pay a
fine of $500 and undergo an imprison-
ment of six years and nine months at
hard labor in the Eastern peniten-
tiary. He had pleaded guilty to mal-
practice which resulted in the death
of Miss Bessie Hoffman, of Birds-
Horo.
Of the 77 applicants for certifi-
cates to practice medicine in this
state examined by the state medical
examining board last December in
Philadelphia, 64 passed the examina-
tion and will be given certificates,
and 13 failed or were found deficient.
Thomas Roach and Winnifred Kil-
len, in jail at Greensburg, charged
with being accesscries to the fact in
the murder of Louis Ernett, at Jean-
nette, have had warrants served on
them charging murder.
At Kenwood station, on the Pitts-
burg, Ft. Wayne and Chicago rail-
road, an eastbound cattle train side-
swiped a freight, throwing 10 cars
over an embankment and killing sev-
eral of the cattle.
Judge Cyrus Gordon, at Clearfieid,
handed down the list of liquor li-
cense applications. for 1903, and
granted eight new licenses. None of
the old applicants were refused.
The hcdy of James Parker, 83 years
old, was found in an old shanty near
Scott Haven. He was last seen alive
on December 26. He is supposed to
have died on December 27.
James Wands, aged 14, son of Chief
of Police Wands, of Tyrcne, fell to
the floor of the stage in the opera
heuse, a distance of 20 feet, and died
frora his injuries.
The body of Clarence Wilson, who
was drowned in the Conemaugh river
at Blairsville, was recovered almost
near the place where he .broke
through the ice.
John Soboskc, a Hungarian, fell
into a pickling vat at the wire mill
of the Pittsburg Steel Company's
Monessen plant and was probably
fatally burned. .
Rev. Waldo Cherry, pastor of the
Parnassus Presbyterian church, has
been called to the pastorate of the
Second Presbyterian church at.New-
ark, O.
O. R. Cutler, teacher of Harvey's
school in Greene county, was slashed
with a knife by Arnold McClelland,
a pupil whom he attempted to chas-
tise.
New (astle business men have ors
ganized a chamber of commerce.
The 2-year-old child of John Fergu-
son, of near Altoona, was burned to
death while playing with. matches.
Russell Sheriff, 12 years old, the
son of John Sheriff, of Latrobe, was
fatally injured by a street car.
Mr. Carnegie has offered $1,500,000
for the extension of the free library
system of Philadelphia.
P. MeManus, superintendent of the
American Steel Casting Company, at
Sharon, has resigned.
S. K. Demars, a carpenter, fell
from a scaffold at South Sharon and
was instantly killed.
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