—- ee Te 5 AAS SS 0 Te Faas ‘went dancing A SEA GHOST. Oh, fisher-folk, go in And furl your w The bay is gray v ¢ And the louc irom the springs. The chill buoy-bell is rung by the hands Of all the drowned, Who know the woe of Of the tides around. Go in. go in! Oh, } And let them rest— 'A son, and one who Who went down unb the wind and tow Ave. e : whose hands at Now or most, The tomb has gloom. but oh! the d Of the Jdrear sea-ghost. * the ooze arn ot the Jonpest born, save—to save s the sea! Can peace release us and give us ease Ur ov =~ in The Century. [cee teadersolfeesteeiteovstoavCtoaaieaaryuesaln «JOHN LANE’S DAUGHTER. eeca>eieBiesvivoeofeaaCovaltaad By MARGARET E. SANGCSTER. toed VCesVT2COeTRIVCBRRVIDTRY o G0 far from home 2% back very quickly, C T OQ J.ane spent her Christm holidays with her ont Sophy in Chicage This was what bro.dened her rorizon. When she returned to Elmore Hall after that visit, the observed in the very first week that the old Cynthia had disappeared and 2 new one had come in her place The new one puzzied them. They liked bier predecessor bet- ter. . Cynthia Lane, fresh town in southern Ohio, Tectly satisfied and felt toaue Although many a larger and she had not their magnifi she had ps Aunt Sophy s had gaily ing that she wa conceivable occasion. Her mother's letter. found in the postoflice on lier the train, said, avear your ‘Aunt Sophy’s. brown cashmere days until girls 10 wear « with a way *Cynthia. qe: don’t ibings every day at Remember that your must last for Sun- spring. Your second-best frock will do very well uniess they have company. Bear mind, my child, that you are a little country girl, and a schoolgirl at that, and that no- body will expect yon to compete with rich city cousins.” Wise advice! 3nt C took in its meaning. ahead, and a tune under her flew under the Her first disillusion and dissatisfae- tion came the day after her arrival. when she overhead her cousin Ger- trude, in the next room. say in a low voice, perfectly ible through the thin partition wall: . “The child h ¢ to wear. Mother, we'll her Edith's clothes while she “Hush, Gertrude!” Aunt Sophy an- gwered. “I would not offer her such a thing for the world. My sister would never forgive me. Cynthia is all right for her home and for college. She's only to be here over New Year's day. What does it matier how she is dressed?” Cynthia had not meant to listen, flushing hotly from head to foot, she wished New Year's day well past and herself back at Elmore. Her eyes were opened. She perceived that she was not in the least like the girls who fiut- tered into her aunt's hest ynthia hardly Her thoughts she hummed breath as the train. miles as not a sir have little | | possessed her. She felt | indeed | first fitting. | Your mother | I | § and | house, and poised | on the wing to chat with Gertrude and | Edith, girls elaborately dressed. She did not dream that the eyes of most people rested approvingly on her brigh: face and never noted anything wrong about her clothing. Gertrude had made her uncomfortable. She went with her relatives on ‘shop- ping expeditions. The great depart- ment stores were a revelation to her of the glory of this world. Silks, laces. Jewels, silver, soft wools, dainty lin- ens—what in all that bewildering vari ety was there wanting? Desire awak- ened in her soul. but she stifled it and held up her head proadiy. She was qe: termined not to let} any show of Lie vels: Cynthia refused to i by the crowds and t w Edith Harper was to * January, and her moiher was rane cupied in preparing i r for the tions in which a debutaute take ‘A white evening dress es chanted Cynthia, who g folds of mousseline-de- embroidery, the Oh, to have “Cynthia,” “you are aren't you? dame ma 1 iit nders. ome out” don’t you reity gown for birthday PATIYY nn would be a real economy, for you will want a dress later on 40 wear at commenceme “I shall not be graduated thi mer, Edith. Im only a freshman. I've three years more before I'll need splen- dors. And then I'll be rigged out in cap and gown to receive my diploma ‘We don’t dress at Ponkaloo as you do here.” “What maderaoiselle said the French woman cking kindly at the dark-eyed girl with the ¢ buniTy roses abloony in her cheeks. “is t frock as this, Miss Edith, but thing . different—a high tucked yoke, and sleevs a deep flounce puffs: not a {train ground all round. I could such a gown at a than seventy-five “It’s the cha; Cynthia,” said Raith, I ter give madame the order r. fully good to take her busy season, too. neeus, make irice—not x ’ f money on would be a b Cynthia.” “I would have to write {o mother,” said Cynthia. “Well, I'll tell you what to do. let madame take your measure. Then you ni have a lining fitted. 1 am just your height. and the skirt can be tried on me. The ress can be made as well as not wil you are at.col- lege, without you having more than the AS soon as you hear from you can write to madame, and she'll do all You haven't an idea how pretty you'll look, Cynthia, gown.” drew herself up. At the there was a argain; a Freuach gown, You the rest. mind strong dissent. but desire had her hiroat, and she could not shake tightening give the ord now," 3 “Mother will ased, and tliere Her taken she said. want me S no need to wait ation as if she were ro va x * resolve sense of el Edith’s cousin as she stood in I's room, where gowns costing hundreds of dollars and wraps of Parisian e nce prices were hung in doors. She was for the moment not little Cynthia Lane, only daughter of John Lane, farmer, of Ponkaloo, and also the best writer of composition in her class at Elmore Hall, but a fairy prin- cess, a’ girl had dared and ven- tured. Although Low in the wide world she was ever coing to pay seven- ty-five dollars * a gown she did not in the least know. fabulous about, or behind and strewn carelessly carved cabinets glass who Cynthia has been brought up in an atmosphere of rectitude and seonomy, It had been a great strain on the home resources to send her to college. There id been planning and saving and rimping to do Her father and mother would not touch the sum laid side for They had man- aged to meet the expenses for the first Year, and hoped that their bright little girl would win a scholarship to make easier the second. Cynthia knew this. Nevertheless, she trod on air after had ordered the gown. and when hugged her and Gertrude con: lated, she blushed and laughed light- heartedly. Her aunt was a trifle doubt- ful about the whole transaction. “Shouldn't you have consulted your mother. dear? Madame has to be paid ‘C.. 0. D’ And city prices are ‘high compared to those at Ponkaloo.” “Oh. that will be all right!” replied Cynthia.. “Don’t say a word about it. aunty, when yon write. I want to surprise mamma.” The holidays over, Cynthia went back to college. Then the girls thought her changed. She had plenty to do, fo rtunately. Among other affairs. there was the annual contest for the Llewellyn prize. This was a prize of one hundred dol- lars in. gold, awarded to’ the student whose all-round scholarship was the best in her year, and who in addition wrote the most satisfactory thesis on celonial history. “I intend to carry off that prize” said Cynthia to herself. ‘Then 1 can poy madame and have twenty-five dol- lars over. How silly 1 wonid have been not to order that gown!” “How si You are to spend all that OWL YOu can so wea d common sense. you haven't won the prize yet! thia’ Ss room-mate found her silent rbed. mp into e ;niddle of her co; tations came a note from madame’s establishment, announcing that the gown was nearl ished, ~nd would he sh pp ed t in two days. se contained pre- and for 1 was 10 more TY 2 to her for a month. What to do she did not necessity is the spur of actio ( and sent a special Great-Aunt Millcent, th 1 in the family connectic was possessed of great wealth. C thia set forth in eloquent terms her im- mediate and pressing need of seventy- five dollars. which she promised to re- turn, if Great-Aunt Millicent would consent to loan the sum, in three months from its receipt. Tears blinded h : She felt perfectly desperate, and when the letter was fairly atched. she was absent- minded and wretched till the reply came. a rainy day. seldom there ILOnEy she wrote. rem) ing. There and pains- Two panied the letter. One seventy-five dollars. Inissory note for i out in due form for stiff n elde val- to accommodate A wrote the old lady. shall e ct you to sign this note, return it to me, and refund the money as pledged at the expiration of ninety you, | application. | John Lane's daughter, | and i Money does not grow on bushes, child.” | difficulty. days. ‘At first, as I dislike lending money. I was inclined to refuse your But I think I can trust so here it is, make a good use of it, I be Cynthia paid the dressmaker’'s hill The dress was beautiful, a triumph of aste and skill. But with a revulsion | of feeling Cynthia folded it in its box, and covered it with soft tissue-paper. { She was glad that her roommate was at a recitation when the parcel ar- rived. ' Into the farthest corner of the top | shelf in the closet she thrust the box; then slie sat down and wrote in a fury of hope and fear on the thesis that meant so much more to her now than ever thesis had meant before She must win at all odds. w But everything blocked the way. An inopportune attack of grippe laid her aside for a fortnight. and when she recovered it was to face an ‘accumu- lation of work that had to be made up. She lost instead of gaining ground with the professors, who began fo complain that she was dreaming and spent time , in wool-gathering when © she should have been alert. The dean, in a frank conversation, said that she was not doing herself justice. because she had overworked, and the Latin tutor detained her after class one day to ask if she did not require some special assistance. Cyn- thia gasped. She, who had aspired to coaching backward students, to be placed with the backward omnes her- self, However, she toiled valiantly: at her thesis. Although her sentences were leaden anc her pen dragged. she kept stubbornly on, and at the proper time handed in her manuscript. Then followed a weary month of waiting for the verdict. Not once in all this time did Cynthia so much as glance at the” white gown, which had assumed in her eyes the ferm of a hateful penitential robe. One word- less prayer was in her heart by night and by day. that she might receive the prize and be able to repay her great- aunt. She checked off the dates on. her cal. endar. The days were most contra- dictory, slow in one asp:uct and swift in another. Now and then’ her modest little allowance came from home, from the father who trusted her, and it smote her hear: as she received it. At last, one merning, the mes of the prize-winners were posted: n the bulietin-board in chapel. Cynthia Lane's was not amone them; she stood far below the necessary mark, and was nowhere near the top of the competition. Another girl had won. the money prize. Cynthia had honorable mention and a scholarship. The dean was sitting in her private parior that evening when, after a slight tap for admittance, Cynthia Lane entered, and threw herself down in a sobbing heap. The dean remon- strated. ‘Cynthia, you are not erying in this way because you've lost the prize?” “I'm crying because I've been. a cow- ard and a cheat. and I don’t knogy what in the world to do. Dear Mrs. Morgan, may I tell you all about it?” & “Stop crying. 'Cynthia, or. I can’t understand. There, there! Nothing is helped by tears. Let me bear what Las Lappened. Then maybe I can see ra way out? Cynthia did not spare herself. She told the story just as it bad, occurred, ped when she had finished, the dean vas silent. “There are two things vodedu do, Cynthia,” she said at last. “and one is this: tell your father what you have just told me.” f Cynthia sat up straight. “0, Mrs. Morgan, I couldn't! I'd die of shame! If you knew how hard my father has to work and how little money there is, you wouldn't say tell your father!” “Yes, dear, I would still say it Fathers have hearts that children may iurn to. Tell him.. You must pay your debt to your great-aunt, and your father will enable you to do so. If he speaks seme plain words to you, you cannot wonder. Haven't you de- served them? Write to your father by the first mail. Believe me, dear, it is the right thing to do.” ‘And then?” “Then write to madame, and explain to her that you made a mistake in pur- chasing this costly frack, and that you have not worn it, and that it is un- suitable for you at present. . Ask her 1! to take it back, or to dispose of it for not think there will be any And if I were you. Cynthia, I would either go home for Easter or: stay here with the few who cannot ve. I would not make another Chi- cago visit yet.” Cynthia went hdck to her room and wrote to her father.: In trepidation she waited for his reply. It came by you Ico Winsted. Wisconsin. received. Remittance sent! Letter to-morrow. Jobin Lane. And the father’s letter said: In this world we learn some lessons from experience which we never learn from any other teacher. 1 shail not say anything about this incident to vour mother. She need not be both: ered. Come home for Easter, Cyn: thia. i When she went home met her at the station. John Lane was stooping and grizzled, a plain man, with keen eyes looking from under brows He caught up Cyn- thia’s valise and helped her into the bu her father Mother has hot biscuits and maple- syrup for supper, honey,” he said. “Father, dear,” Cynthia Hinged her little purse into his hard hand, “here’s the money. The dressmaker took the old thing b: —Youth’s Companion. her best selection of a A Svoman will compliment friend’s taste in the bonnet by buying one just jas possible. | ordered a plate o red beef as different’ 1 Revised, Early to bed and early to rise Is the way to look stupid and red round the eyes. 3 il —Town Topics. Success Symptoms. Dusty—*“What makes you think he has not realized all his ambitions?” Crusty—*“He issoagreeable.”—Judge. Experience. Johnny—*“Papa, what is experience?” Papa—-“It is what we get in place of the advice we refuse to take.”’—Town Topics. Indispensable. “The Police Department is water.” “Well, it takes hot water some things out.” in hot to clean Cool and Collected. Clara—“She isn’t a bit nervous, she?” . Olive—**Not a bit. I don’t think proposal would make Ler nervous.” Worse Still. “So the specialist said you'd have to give up smoking for a while, eh?” “Yes, and he also said I'd have to give up $15 tor good.”—Collier's Weekly. That Silenced Him. “Give the devil his due” sharply “What will become. of me, then?” asked. ‘You have no life insurance.” — Atlanta Constintion. he said, she Everything in Its c Place. She—*I hid a $5 bill in this diction- ary yesterday and I can’t find it any- where.” He—"Did you look among dear ?’—Yonkers Statesman. the Vs, His Art. “I wouldn't call Daubson an artist. The pictures he paints are frights.” “But you ought to see how easily he hornswoggles people into buying them. He's certainly an artist.”—Kansas City Times. Ar. Jingo—“I don’t believe in all this new fandangled sterilizing business. Our ancestors never used such meth- ods.” Mrs. Jingo—“Yes—and what's the re- sult? Why, they are all dead.”—Phila- delphia Record. re ———— An Endless Chain. #A soft answer,” remarked the party of ihe first part, “‘turneth away wrath.” “True enough,” responded the party of the second part, “but wrath also turneth away a soft answer.”—Phila- delphia Bulletin. His Attendance Accounted For. Rev. Dr. Torker—"1'm pleased to see that you attend church so regularly. 1 hope you have found grace.” Fargorn—“Excusé me, but her name is Helen—Ah! there she is now—good morning.’ —Life. bh Only a Dream. Dinzuss—You had a delightful dream last night? What was it about?’ Shadbolt—“I dreamed you were pay- ing me all the moaey you have bor- rowed from me at various times.”’— Chicago Tribune. A New Rule. The Iivitated Poetess— ‘You ask me to write on one side of the paper only. Which side do you recommend?” The Goaded Editor—*Always use the thumb side, ma'am, unless you are ‘ross-eyed or left-handed.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. — tie Two of Them. Hungry Hawkes—“On de level, boss, I got a hungry family at home dat don’t know where its next meal’s coms jy from.” Whitty—* So have I. My wife had a ye out with our regular butcher to- — Philadelphia Ledger. His Experience. Judge (impatiently interrupting a lawyer” s carefully selected citations)— an't you take for granted that Y un- der stand an ordinary point of law? Lawyer (coolly)— ‘Your Honor, that’s the mistake I made in the lower court, where I lost my case.”’—Sunshine. Omiggions of History. “hat will you order, sir?’ asked the waiter. “Give me liberty or give me death!” absent-mindedly responded the man at the table. “I don’t think we've them on the bill of fare if—' “1 beg your pardon,” Henry—for it was he—rousing himself: “] was practicing on the speech I am going to make to-morrow.” Hastily openin Guffey’s readers and looking he had quoted. the saying correct] and cab- got either of to-day, sir, but hao page. —Chicag a copy of one of Mec- | to see if | | shoot ing KEYSTONE STATE CULLINGS STATE LOSES NOTHING Gov. Pennypacker Issues Statement on Settiement of the Enter- prise Bank Account. Gov. Pennypacker issued an official statement announcing that the com- monwealth of Pennsylvania has re- covered al] the public funds, amount- ing to $1,030,000, on deposit in the Enterprise National bank of Alle- gheny at the time of failure. In his statement he says: The deposit of $1.030.000 in Enterprise Na- tional bank which failed on the 18th day of October, 190 together with interest. $14,343.15, kas been paid into the treasury of the common- wealth and in behalf of the people of Pennsylvania 1 thank the state {reasurer for the care. with which this deposit, when made, way safe- guarded, and for the promptness with which it has been collected.” Five men were badly hurt by the premature explosion of a blast while at work excavating on the Pittsburg, Bessemer & Lake Erie railroad at Unity. The injured men were tak- en to the Butler county General Hos- pital on a Bessemer & Lake Erie train. They are: Joseph Fleming, aged €1, boss of the gang; John Pila, a Slav, aged 44; Michael Brosman, Slav, ed ' 23; Bruno Moribitto, aged 3 sot, aged 33. All live at North 1 The face: of the injured a were mangled un- til sca: recognizable. Brosman’'s left cheek blown off. All have ar and hands and their 1 filled with particles of sand and rock. explosion occurred while the men 4 ding about a hole in a rock in ch y were placing a charge of dynamite. It is believed that while forcing the charge to its place enough force was used to explode it. The Manor Valley . Railway pany has selected the route which its trolley line will be built. The main line will run from North Irwin to Irwin; thence south paralleling the Yough branch of the Pennsylvania rairoad through Rillton and Hermine to West Newton. Connection a mile south of town will be made with the Pittsburg & Westmoreland line from Irwin to McKeesport. Another sec- tion wiil run from North Irwin to Manor, on the north side of the main line of the Pennsylvania. From Manor the road will run north to Claridge and Export. Com- While drawing stumps in the Lari- mer mine several men were caught in' a cave-in. One was killed and one seriously injured. Pringle Hardy was buried alive under the debris and crushed and ty was released by men on nearby. © His injury was confined to a broken leg. Hardy came to this country from Scotland. Recently he sent money hack to pay the passage for his wife and several children and they are now enroute to join him. The mistake of an engineer in reading Friday’s orders instead of Saturday’s is alleged to have caused a wreck on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad near Renfrew. Brakeman Edward Hartman, of Foxburg, was killed: Brakeman McGinley, Engi- neer James Blaisdell and two other trainmen were badly injured. A Buffalo, Rochester and Pittsburg and Baltimore and Ohio freight trains collided head-on. The engines and about a dozen cars were piled up, the debris blocking traffic for several hours. It was discovered that the bronze tablet on the monument erected by the State to the late Governor Geary had been stolen by vandals. The monument was erected in the Harris- burg cemetery several years after Governor Geary’s death, surmounted by a military statue. The tablet was three and vne-half by two feet square, and weighed 50 pounds. The thieves, it is believed, will break the tablet up and sell it for junk. A thief entered the bedroom of Capt. W. A. Edmiston, cashier of the Monongahela National bank, at Brownsville, stole his trousers, con- taining $35, keys to the bank’s vaults and many notes. The trousers, keys and notes were found the following a vacant lot. bridge builders of Portland, Me., employed on a dam which is being erected across the Susquehan- na river at McCalls Ferry. 25 miles south of Lancaster, were drowned by the capsizing of a boat. The names of the men are Bissat, O’Connell, Neal and Smith. That District Attorney Thomas H. Hudson, of Fayette county, is deter- mined to stop local fruit stores and news stands from doing business on Sunday is evident from his action in making informations as st 10 Uniontown dealers for keeping open. Thomas Jones, of Amsbury, aged 36, was killed by an explosion of gas in the Pennsylvania Coal & Coke Company’s No. 16 mine near Gallit- zin. Three other men working in the mine escaped injury. Helen, the 2-year-old daughter of Phillip Haburger, of New Castle, was probably fatally scalded by falling in- to a bucket of boiling water. Two Buffalo, Rochester and Pitts- burg freight trains collided at Fenel- ton. Fireman D. L. Edwards of buitals, was injured. Ihe trustee day in Four said Patrick. 107 rel: 11( 1 count hims wife found him dead. The Cholc=2 of Paint. Fifty years ago a well-painted house was a rare sight; to-day an unpainted house is rarer. If people knew the real value of paint a house in need of paint would .be “scarcer than Len's teeth.” There was some excuse for our fore- fathers. Many of them lived in houses hardly worth preserving; they knew | nothing about paint, except that it wag | pretty; and to get a house painted was {| a serious and costly job. | ence between their case and ours is The differ- that when they wanted paint it had to be made for them; whereas when we need paint we can go to the nearest good store and buy it, in any color or quality ready for use. We know, or ought to know by this time, that to let a house stand unpainted is most costly, while a good coat of paint, ap- plied in season, is the best of invest- ments. If we put off the brief visit of the painter we shall in due®time have the carpenter coming to pay us a long visit at our expense. Lumber is con- stantly getting scarcer, dearer and poorer, while prepared paints are get- ting plentier, better and less expensive. It is a short-sighted plan to let the val- uable lumber of our houses go to pieces for the want of paint. For the man that needs paint there are two forms from which to choose; one is the old form, still favored by cer- tain unprogressive painters who have not yet caught up with the times—lead and oil; the other is the ready-for-use paint found in every up-to-date store. The first must be mixed with ofl, driers, turpentine and colors before it is ready for use: the cther need only be stirred up in the can and it is ready to go on. To buy lead and oil, colors, ete., and mix them into a paint by hand is, in this twentieth century, about the same as refusing to ride in a trolley car because one’s grandfather had to walk or ride on horseback when he “wanted to go anywhere. Prepared paints have been on the mar- ket less than fifty years, but they have proved on the whole so inexpensive, so convenient and so good that the con- sumption to-day is something over six- ty million gallons a year and still grow- ing. Unless they had been in the maim satisfactory. it stands to reason there would have been no such steady growth in their use. Mixed paints are necessarily cheaper than paint of the hand-mixed kind, be- cause they are made in a large way by machinery from materials bought in large quantities by the manufacturer. They are necessarily better than paints mixed by hand, because they are more finely ground and more thoroughly mixed and because there is less chance of the raw materials in them being adulterated. No painter, however care- ful he may be, can ever be sure that the materials he buys are not adulter- ated, but the large paint manufacturer does know in every case, because everything he buys goes through the , chemist’s hands before he accepts it. Of course there are poor paints on the market (which are generally cheap paints). So there is poor flour, poor cloth, poor soap; but because of that de we go back to the hand-mill, the hand-loom and the soap-kettie of the backwoods? No, we use our common sense in choosing goods. We find out the reputation of the different brands of -flour, cloth and soap: we take ac- count of the standing of the dealer that handles them, we ask our neighbors. So with paint; if the manufacturer has a good reputation, if the dealer is re- sponsible, if our neighbors have had satisfaction with it, that ought to be pretty good evidence that the paint is all right. “Many men of many minds”’— Many paints of many kinds; but while prepared paints may differ considerably in composition, the better grades of them all agree pretty closely in results. “All roads lead to Rome,” and the paint manufacturers, starting by different paths, have all the same object—to make the best paint possible to sell for the least money and so cap- ture and keep the trade. There is scarcely any other article of general use on the market to-day that can be bought with anything like the assurance of getting your money's worth as the established brands of pre- pared paint. The paint you buy to-day may not be like a certain patent medi- cine, ‘the same as you have always bought,” but if not, it will be because the manufacturer has found a way of giving you a better article for your money, and so making sure of your next order. P. G As Good as the Mothers of Old. New York and its people are not half as bad as they are painted. The doings of the people in olden times make the weaknesses of the ‘‘smart set” of to-day look as mild as the do- ings of a well-ordered Sunday school convention. All this and more Mrs. Frank Cronise told the Minerva club at its meeting at the Waldorf-Astoria. She also said that Rev. Dr. Park- hurst and Rev. Madison C. Peters are the Jeremiahs of our time. And there are the Jeremiahs in every age. At this the audience burst into ap- plause, for the club has had troubles of its own, and has no use for Jere- miahs of any kind. “You see a few women drink and gamble, and therefore we forget the millicns She do neither, and the hun- di eds of millions of men who do ? ted Mrs. Cronise, ad- ng Jomtien Rev. Dr. Peters, whom she called ‘‘the apostle at irge to the women of Gotham.” “1 contend,”” she went on, ‘‘that we are quite as good wives and mothers as the women of past generations. We differ in degree and not in kind. The standard of living has changed, and we have changed to meet it.” Mrs. Cron ventured the asser- tion that the clubs of our country and city contain as fine housekeepers as ever managed a household, whose cooking would make the best profes- sional chefs turn green with envy. Millions of Cantaloupes. Twelve million "six hundred sand is the estimate of the number vf the famous Rocky Ford -canta- loupes shipped from the Rocky Ford district in Colorado last season. Sev- en hundred cars were sent out, as against 592 caricads the previous year. thou- Parents too Strict. Fearing that he would be punished for spending 7 pence on sweets instead of buying fruit for his i schoolboy at ef himself in front Lilled.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers