~
Pl MEMORIES.
I remember. I remember
The gowns I used to wear;
The yellow-figured jaconet,
The purple-sprigged mohair.
They always were a bit too long,
Or else not long encugh;
‘And often, in the latter case,
Pieced out with different stuff.
I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
Upon 1ay bayadere barege—
(It : ust have been a sight!)
My solferino Lalzarine—
My lilac satinet—
We gave that to an orphan child.
(The child is living yet!)
I remember, I remember
My mage..ta wool delaine;
M mon taglioni, too,
ined with satin jear;.
licht blue empress cloth,
{Tw
My lovely
Picked out with bands of dove,
1 wore the night Joe came to ca'l
And told me of his love.
fd
remember, I remember
"Those gowns so quaint and queer;
1 wore them with a happy heart
For . any a happy year.
I have an ivory satin now,
Embroidered fair with pearl;
But, ah, I'm farther off from heaven
"han when I w s a girl.
—C Carolyn Wells, in Good Housekeeping.
(5% UNCLE
=
KL ON BY
RICHARDS ADVICE.
MARY GRACE HALPINE,
DIA
\?
NE
os
> bie
=
EVER propose to a woman
by gaslight. my dear boy.”
was the dying injunction
of. Mr. Culver, to his
x nephew and heir, Richard.
“I suppose you will marry,” groaned
the old man, after a pause. locking sor-
rowfully at the frank young face that
was bending over him. *Jt's a family
failing, that is. All the Culvers mar-
ried—I married.”
Here he groaned again.
Richard had a very vivid recollection
of the selfish, exacting woman whose
death was the ouly real kindness she
ever did her husband, as well as the
greatest possible relief.
“Don’t you worry. uncie,” he said,
clasping his warm fingers around the
mrinkled, bloodless hand that was 1y-
ing upon the counte *] don't
mean to be fooled by in
“That's what
that’s what I said.
and I'm not going to wi
in asking you n
propose by gasligh
one you'll be sorry for
of your life. If you fail
a pretty woman got up {or >
sion, and feel tempted to tell le
by gasligiit, just sleep on it. If you
must make a fool of yourself, let it be
in the morning, when ycu knew what
you are about.”
There was not much that Richard
would not have promised the eccentric
old man, who. in spite of all his oddi-
ties, had been to him so kind and gen-
erous a friend, especially at a time like
this.
So he gave the required promise, to
his uncle's visible relief, who said no
more, except to enjoin his nephew to
have him buried in a remote corner
of the cemetery, as far as possible
from the late Mrs. Culver.
“I think I shall rest better,” he said;
these brief words being a whole cem-
mentary on the unquiet life he had led
with Ler who was, in popular par-
lance, “the gentle soother of his cares
and sorrows.”
Whether it was a family trait or not,
Richard certainly had a very kindly
feeling toward everything in the guise
of womanhood, from the fair and dain-
ty creatures who smiled upon him
from out their marvelous adornments,
to the more material and matter-of-fact
specimens who got up bis linen and
scrubbed out his office.
Fine looking and with the double ad-
vantage of wealth and social standing,
our hero was the recipient of many at-
tentions from anxious mammas and
marriageable daughters, but’ whether
it was the effect of his uncie's ill luck,
and consequent warnings, or because
he liked them all too well to have any
individual preference, he remained
heart whole until he met Miss Ida Sel-
Wyn.
It was a genuine case of love at first
sight, so far as Le was concerned at
least. Her complexion was so brilliant.
she had such lovely dark eyes, and
such a pretty way of raising them to
his and then letting them droop until
the long, jetty lashes rested gquivering-
ly upon the rosy cheek, that he was
quite captivated by their magic spell.
Day by day the charm grew stronger
to which he was such a willing captive
until be finally felt that to win her for
his wife would be the crowning joy and
triumph of his life.
A strong impulse came over him to
tell ber this, as he was seated alone
with ber one evening in a cozy corper
of her father's parlor. Ida had just
been singing and playing for him one
of those sweet and tender strains
which take such a strong hold on the
heart and imagination of youth.
As he saw the soft light that brooded
in the dark eyes that were turned upon
him he was almost sure that she would
lend a favorable ear to the stery that
was trembling upon his lips. 2
In trying to clothe in words the tu-
multuous tloughts that were strug-
gling for utterance, Richard lifted biz
eyes to the jets of flame that cast such
a soft, subdued radiance around. AS
he did so there flashed upon his mind
his uncle’s dying injunction and his
own promise. Instead of the bloom-
ing countenance on which be was gaz-
ing with all a lover's rapture he saw a
wrinkled face, surmounted by thin,
gray locks, whitened more by sorrows
than years; he heard again those fee-
ble, tremulously spoken words: **Never
propose to a woman by gaslight, my
dear boy,!”’
True, it was a foolish promise to
give, but he had given it. He felt this
to be the most favorable time and op-
portunity, but he would not break his
word, even to win the woman who
seemed to him to be the embodiment
of all womanly grace and goodness.
Our hero had arranged to leave town
the next day on a trip to the mount-
ains, to be gone several weeks, and he
determined that he would not go with-
out telling the story that had so nearly
escaped his lips the evening before.
It was nearly 10 when he started
out upon his errand. A good night's
and the fresh ze and Im,
A
{ 10 CGO
spring had cooled somewhat the fever
that was more of the brain than the
heart, and more of the senses than
either. .
And as he tried to recall the words
which rose so readily to his lips a few
hours ago, and which then appeared so
easy to speak and appropriate to the
occasion, but which now sounded so
flat, strained and unnatural that he re-
jected them in disgust, he began to
think that if his uncle's advice were
universally followed many of the pro-
posals made would never be made at
all. /:
*I never called on her in the morning
before,” he said to himself, the thought
of finding his adored in new attire and
surroundings giving a quicker motion
to heart and step as he turned the cor-
which brought her father's house
into view.
A bright-eyed daughter of E
had often let Lim in, was polis
door knob just outside.
, Norah.
ner
‘in, who
hing the
g Is Miss Ida
> ye'll find her in the sittin’
the girl, a broad smile
honest face as she stepped
him pass. *1 heard her
in there a minute The
( to the left. 3
On familiar terms as Richard was
with the Selwyns he had never been
admitted to the family sitting room,
and he hesitated a moment. Then he
turned the knob of the door to which
he was directed, wiich moved noise-
lessly on its hinges.
Though the room was not dark it
seemed so to eyes just coming out of
the sunshine, and from the threshold
where Le stood Richard could see only
the dim outline of a woman curled up
in a large chair, the back of which was
toward him. Thinking to give her sone
intimation of his presence he tapped at
the haif-cpen door.
“What ao you stand knocking at the
door for?’ cried a voice, which, in spite
h key, he did not fail to rec-
8 “You spoiled my dress yester-
day, and now you want to give me my
death of cold, 1 suppose. Because
you're a relation you think I'll put up
with everything. Pa only tecok you out
ity, and a pretty return you
make Jor it.”
To say that Richard was thunder-
struck is te say little. Thinking that
it must be some delusion of the senses
he advanced toward the speaker, who
now turned ner head.
Uttering a little shriek she half
arose, and then, sinking back, made
an abortive attempt to bide herself.
“I beg pardon, Miss Selwyn!” stam-
mered cur hero. “It is Miss Selwyn,
1 believe?” ~
He might well ask the question.
That dingy, soiled wrapper, innocent
of cuff or collar, and -those untidy
shoes; the sallow face, with its dis-
mayed and angiy expression; the hair,
part of it strained away from the face
in a little pug at the back of the head,
the rest bristling across the forehead
in innumerable curl papers, presenting
an appearance so unlike the lovely,
daintily attired woman he had known
that for some moments he could only
stare «i he. in astorishment and dis-
gust.
Our hero could never clearly recall
what he said on that memorabie ccca-
sien; hie only knows that he carried out
the idea tkat was uppermost in his
mind—to beat as sudden a retreat as
be decently could.
In his haste and confusion, instead
of taking the cne which led into the
hall, he opened the door into the dining
room, whose ‘only occupant was a
blooming, blue-eyed maiden, who was
busily engaged in ‘‘puttirg it to rights.”
Comprehending the situation at a
clance, she smilingly offered to conduct
our hero to the outer door, who ex-
pressed his thanks, and regrets for the
trouble he had caused her in as courtly
terms as his confused ideas enabled
him to use.
“It is no trouble,” she said, with a
blush and sinile, that dwelt long in his
memory.
“What an escape!” thought Richard,
as he went down the steps. ‘“Who
would believe that a woman could ap-
pear and lock so different?”
Then his thoughts reverted to the
fair vision of which he had obtained so
brief a ' glimpse. How pretty she
looked in the neat print, that fitted so
perfectly the beautifully rounded form,
and how perfectly she smiled and
blushed. There was no sham, no false
color there, surely.
Not many days after, Richard stood
upon the piazza of the Mountain
House, where he had spent a few
weeks of every year during quite a
succession cf them.
As he glanced around he saw a young
lady leaning against one of the pillars,
the outline of whose form and partly
averted face looked strangely familiar.
A silver-haired man was standing be-
side her whom lhe recognized as soon
as he turned his bead.
“How do you do, Mr. Selwyn?” he
said, advancing toward him with ex-
tended hand.
The old gentleman shook hands with
to let
Lin ago.
doo? sir.
him warmly, and then turning to the |
young lady, said: . .
“Ax niece, Jennie, Mr. Culver.”
<§ think we have met before,” said
Richard, with a smile, as he bowed low
in response to this.
Her heightened color and the mirth-
ful gleam in the eyes. that met his ayere
the young lady’s only reply to this inti-
mation, but they made Richard's heart
beat warmly at the recollection they
implied.
“My niece goes out into society so
little that I had no idea that you were
acquainted,” said Mr. Selwyn, on whom
this little by-play was lost. “My wife
and daughter have gone .to Saratoga,
but we — Jennie and I — thought we
should enjoy better a trip to the mount-
ains.”
Richard was greatly relieved to find
that he should be under no necessity of
meeting the woman he had last seen
under circumstances sO embarrassing
to both.
This being Jennie's first visit to the
mountains everything to her was new
and wondrously beautiful. Richard
had been there so frequently that he
knew just how and where to go to ob-
tain the finest views, and he lost no
time in offering Lis services as guide
to Jennie and her uncle.
Mr. Selwyn gladly accepted his offer
in behalf of his niece.
“My climbing days are over,” he
said, with a smile, “but I am anxious
to have Jennie see everything that is
worth seeing.”
And so, to Richard's great delight,
it was arranged that he was to ke her
escort and companion on every occa-
sion. As for Jennie, she threw herself
into his plans and suggestions with all
the zest and abandon of a child.
Clad in thick boots, a brown linen
dress, which cleared the ground all of
two inches, and a broad brimmed hat,
she clambereil up hills and over rocks
in a way that would have shocked her
fine lady aunt and ccusin, but which
surprised and delighted Richard, who
had never seen anything like it before.
The happy week tha. followed passed
all too quickly. So, when Mr. Selwyn
announced one morning as they were
all seated out upon the piazza his in-
tention of returning the next day, the
shock brought a sudden revelation to
the Lieart of each as to how much of
the bappiness they had enjoyed was
due to the presence and companionship
of the other.
Perhaps Mr. Selwyn suspected how
it was between the two, for, in a few
minutes he went into the house, leav-
ing them alone together.
The rays of the rising sun fell like a
halo around Jennie's head as she lis‘
tened to the story, old. yet ever new,
which Richard poured into her willing
ear. In his eyes the blushes of thé
dawn were not brighter than thosd
which dyed her cheek, or the song of
the birds in the branches abeve their
heads half so sweet to him as the
sweet assurance that made him so su-
premely blessed.
“I wooed my other love under the
gaslight,” he cried, “but you—oh, my
beloved! it is meet that I should woo
and win you thus, who are to be hence:
forth tbe joy and sunshine of my heart
and home.”—New York Weekly.
“GIVE ME POWDER AND BALLS
Being a Dream Tale, Related of the New
French President.
M: ny stories are bein:.: told of M.
Fallieres, the newly-elected French
President, and one of them is worth
retelling, says the London Globe.
M. Fallieres is a corpulent, heavy
built an, and it seems that after din-
ner he occasionally falls off into a post-
prandial nap. One evening, when the
new President was diaing at the Ely-
see, after a heavy day a+ the Senate,
he found himself utterly unable to
keep his eyes open, and when the man-
servant brought round M. Fallieres’
coffee that worthy gentleman was
asleep. Fearing to wake him, the do-
mestic placed the coffee on the table
and retired. And M. Fallieres sium-
bered on. And as he slept he dreamed.
Vhether the memory of the troublous
times of his youth was upon him, or
whether the vision of the German Em-
peror with his legions crossing the
frontier disturbed his digestion. we are
not told, but as he dreamed the veteran
President of the Senate was heard to
murmur the famous line of Victor Hu-
go, “Give me powder and balls.” Then
he lapsed intc silence again, and again
he was heard, in a deep, sleepy voice,
calling for powder and balls. At first
M. Loubet, who was sitting near his
old friend, paid no attention, and the
guests continued their conversation.
But when, for the sixth time, M. Fal-
lieres repeated his request, “Give me
powder and balls,” the President of the
Republic turned imploringly to his com-
panions at the table, and in a some-
what irritated voice, exclaimed, “For
heaven's sake give him powder and
balls.”
At this moment M. Fallieres awoke,
but as his fellow-guests discreetly pre-
tended to have observed nothing, he
quietly helped himself to a piece of
sugar and drank up his coffee.
Wireless Telegraphy’s Danger,
{ One of the characteristic features of
wireless telegraphy is, from the point
of view of the staff, the constant risk
of being struck by lightning. Whenever
there is thunder about the danger is
very real. Should the electric fluid
strike cne of the antennae connected
with every wireless telegraphy station,
the wires would be destroyed and the
lives of a whole staff would be in peril.
A quartermaster of the French fleet,
named Connan, Las invented an auto-
matic apparatus for counteracting the
lightning, should it strike an antennae,
by diffusing the electric fiuid in space
and isolating the operators. Prelimin<
ary trials have given good results, and
: the Minister of Marine has named a
| committee to carry out exhaustive
| practical tests.
|
|
$700,000,000 of Capital Invested in and 1,000,080 People De-
pendent on an Area of 1700 Square Miles in the
Northeastern District of Pennsylvania.
ITHIN an area in North-
eastern Pennsylvania of
1700 square miles, having
an actual coal area of only
S
WwW
Z{ 485 square miles, is con-
fined practically the entire
anthracite industry of the United
States.
This great industry, says the Out-
look, represents a capital investment
of $700.000,000, with natural annual
profits of from $85,000,000 to $100,000,-
000, and produces each year about 70,-
000,000 short tons of hard coal, valued
at $140,000,000.
1t furnishes a freight traffic worth
$40,0000,000 a year to about eight im-
portant railway systems, and pays an-
nuallly approximately $70,000,000 in
wages to about 155,000 mine employes.
A population of nearly 1,000,000 peo-
ple within the anthracite region alone
is dependent directly and indirectly
upon this industry for their means of
livelihood. The two largest cities are
Scranton, with a population of 102.004,
and Wilkesbarre,. with 52,000 inbab-
_itants, both in the northern, or Wyom-
ing, field.
Qther important cities, with a popu-
lation of less than 25,000 each, are
Hazleton, in the Lehigh field, and
Pottsville, Shenandoah, Tamaqua and
Shamokin, in the Schuylkill field.
Surrounding these larger cities are
numerous small towns and villages, or
“patches,” as the mining hamlets or
croups of buildings in near proximity
to a particular mine are called, ex-
tending for many miles throughout
the valleys and connected by electric
railways.
About 100,000 of the workers
engaged on underground jobs.
The inside foreman, or mine boss,
with his assistants, has direction of the
entire underground workings, looking
after the ventilating apparatus and
examining all slopes, shafts, main
roads, traveling ways, signalling ap-
paratus, pulleys and timbering. He
also has supervision of the miners, di-
recting them in their work and inspect-
ing their working places to see that
these are safe for the ‘men.
The fire boss, under the direction of
the mine foreman, takes care that the
working places of the miners and all
used portions of the underground plant
are free from explosive gas, and to
guard against this danger the law di-
rects him to make inspection of all
used parts of the mine, both before
miners begin work and after they
are
the miners b
leave their places.
The doorboys, including the fanboys,
guard the heavy wooden doors divid-
ing the gangway, opening and closing
them as the cars and men pass in and
out. These doors are for the purpose
of directing the air currents through
:he proper openings to the breast where
the miners and laborers are at work.
In some mines self-acting doors have
been provided.
The drivers employed underground
have charge of from one to three or
four mules, hauling empty and loaded
cars from and to the miners’ working
places. The stablemen care for the
mules in the underground stables.
Where mules are not necessary, as in
the case of gravity roads in the mine,
those in charge of the cars are called
runners. Of all the 155,000 outside and
inside workers only about 45,000 are
miners engaged directly in the mining
of coal.
The working place of the miner may
be 500 to 1000, or, in cases, as many as
2000 feet below the surface and as
far as two or three miles from the
main entrance to the mine. While
some work with a gang of other miners
and laborers in charge of a foreman, as
Cotton Seed Oil.
The Census Bureau puts the value of
the cottonseed crop at $52,000,000.
This sum, great as it is, would be
doubled, possibly quadrupled, if the
people of this country would overcome
an unreasonable and absolutely base-
less prejudice against the use of cot-
ton oil in the place of lard, an animal
fat. often taken from hogs afflicted
with cholera or other diseases. If the
people of the South would use cotton
oil, the value of the cottonseed crop
would be doubled, and a handsome
start would be made in extending its
use to all parts of the country, and to
other countries, for it is as pure and
clean as lard is impure and unclean.
Our Consul at Marseilles reports that
all—not some but all—olive oil is adul-
terated with cotton oil, and is the bet-
ter for it. The superiority of the
blended article is now acknowledged
in all parts of Europe. Salads of the
most delicate sort are made from it,
and it suits all tastes and all classes
of people.
What is good in salads should be
acceptable in the kitchens in this coun-
try, especially when it is desirable to
get tid of lard. The cost of lard, too,
is a heavy tax upon the South. Econ-
omy, health and local patriotism all
point to cotton oil and away from lard,
made no one knows how, in the North-
west.—Birmingham Age-Herald.
At Narterre, France, a man was
stopped and robbed by highwaymen,
who afterwards made off on an up-to-
date motor car.
sixteen out of the twenty-one Eng-
lish coronations that took place be-
tween William II and Elizabeth? both
inclusive, were held on a Sunday.
in strippings or in opening a gangway
in a thick and wide seam Or through
solid rock, others are employed mining
coal in the chambers, or rooms opening
from the gangway.
These chambers vary in size, depend-
ing upon the thickness and width of
the seam the miner is working, the
seams ranging from two feet to more
than 100 feet thick, and extending fre-
quently over large areas. These rooms,
called breasts, usually range from
twenty to thirty feet wide, generally
twenty-four feet, and may have a
depth of 300 feet.
In the Schuylkill field two miners as
partners, or “putties,”’ usually work a
chamber together. In this field, and
also in the Lebigh field, as a general
thing, the seams pitch at such an angle
as to prevent the cars from being run
to the working face, and in such case
the coal is worked directly up the
pitch. By means of strong timbers
across the opening at the bottom the
dislodged coal is held in place and
gives the miners a support while they
mine the solid coal above them.
When the particular deposit bas been
dislodged, the gatelike arrangement
at the bottom is opened and the coal
is then run down a chute into the
cars, laborers being employed by the
company to remove what the miner has
inined.. In all such cases the two
miners, or ‘“butties,” work without
laborers and are paid so much a yard
How the Coal Miners Work |
DUTIES OF VARIOUS GANGS IN THE AN=|
THRACITE FIELD.
KEYSTONE STATE CULLING
NEW RAILROAD INCORPORATED
—S——
Line 25 Miles Long From the Mouth
of Indian Creek to Me-
chanicsburg.
Articles of incorporation of the
Youghiogheny & Ligonier Valley Rail-
road Company, which has had survey-
ors runeing a line from the mouth
of Indian creek in Fayette county to
Mechanicsburg in Westmiorelandi
county, have ‘been filed in Fayette
county. The company is capitalized
at $150,000. The incorporators are
Walter Seymere of Connellsville, who
is to be President; Otto Stickel, Aug-
ust Stickel, Jr., August Stickel Sr.,
Fred W. Stickel and Milton Stickel of
Mill Run. Charles Baven of Conflu-
ence, W. J. McFarland and
Attorney S. BR. Goldsmith, of
Connellsville. The road is to
be 25 miles in length and is to con-
nect with the main line of the Baiti-
more & Ohio at the mouth of Indian
creek and with the Pittsburg, West-
moreland & Somerset at Mechanics-
burg.
In an attempt to arrest two negroes
at the Baltimore & Ohio station at
Rockwood, Policeman Edward Spang-
ler was seriously wounded by one of
them. Charles Coughenour, night
agent, and Austin McVicker, night
yardmaster, fired 11 shots at the
fleeing thugs, who escaped to the
woods near the mines of the Viaduct
Coal Company. A posse armed with
rifles started searching for them.
The negroes are wanted on a charge
of killing a eight conductor near
Cumberland, pangler attempted
to place them under arrest, when one
of them opened fire, a bullet entering
Spangler’s right houl Coughe-
nour and McViker came to the po-
liceman's aid, but efforts were
ineffective. Spangler was taken to
the Cottage State Hospital, at Con-
nelisvile.
the
for the coal they have mined.
In the Wyoming field the coal seams
are so flat, with few exceptions, that
roads can be laid and the mine cars
taken to the face of each chamber.
This permits the coal to be loaded ag
it is mined, and in such cases while the
miner dislodges the coal a laborer em-
ployed by him loads it on the cars.
When all the coal but what is neces-
sary to support the roof has been dis-
lodged and a whole section of the
mine has been worked out the miners
remove these supports or pillars, be-
ginning at the inside end and work-
ing back toward the shaft as they
progress, allowing the roof of the mine,
and in some cases the surface of the
ground, to settle in the excavated
places. ‘This is regarded as the most
dangerous part of the miners’ occupa-
tion, and is called ‘robbing the pil-
lars.” . . .
“Much of the time of the miner under-
ground is spent in drilling holes for his
charge of powder, which he explodes
to dislodge the coal. Ome charge may
bring down many tons; again, it fre-
quently fails completely in its pur-
pose, in which latter case the miner
must dig out the coal with his pick and
drill. This is called “mining out ‘a
ghet,” _.. 1h eld « TR ridin 7
The amount of coal the miner is able
to get out depends to a large extent
upon the softness or hardness of the
seam and the amount of timbering he
is conipelled to put up. In some cases
the character of the coal is such as to
allow the miner to take out many yards
without putting up any timbers at all,
and in other cases he may have to
timber every foot of the way for hun-
dreds of yards. - nie
In the Wyoming field the seams do
not pitch to any great extent, and here
the miner is able to wall the refuse
alongside his working place, sending
for the greater part only clean coal to
the breaker, Where the seams pitch,
however, as is the case in the Lehigh
and Schuylkill fields, ali the coai, slate,
rock, ete., dislodged by a charge of
powder must be sent out in the cars.
To determine the amount of clean
or marketable coal in a car a weigh-
man is employed by the miners to
check up the company docking boss.
Paris Octroi Burden.
Although travelers entering Paris at
any of the great railway stations may
long continue in happy ignorance of
the word ‘“‘octroi,” tourists in coach or
motor car are not so fortunate. They
have to take their place amid long
rows of carts, carriages and motor
cars in front of the miniature Custom
Houses at the Porte Maillot, or the
Porte de Vincennes, or at any of the
numerous inlets to the city, and there
pay their toll if they happen to have
with them dutiable commodities. It
is a municipal tax that is levied, a sur-
vival of feudalism, suffered to exist
simply because the Parisians them-
selves are not botbered with it. These
Parisians, with characteristic hatred
for direct taxation and a weakness for
indirect, pay 40f. a head every year
toward the octroi.
This octroi brings into the municipal
coffers $20,000,000 per annum. If it is
to be abolished, as has often been sug-
gested, how is the deficit to be made
up? Here is the scheme of M. Chau-
tard. He proposes to save $6,000,000
by putting off the payment of the city
debt, and to farm out to the State the
dues on alcoholic liquors, which would
make up the balance of $14,000,000.
Another scheme is to have the octroi
applied only to people and goods en-
tering Paris by rail, the railway com-
panies to bear the cost of collection.—
New York Times.
Building societies of the United King-
dom, numbering 2118, advanced on
mortgage during the year 1904, accord-
ing to returns published recently, £9,-
589,864. The number of members is
609,785.
The National Bond Company, a St.
| Louis concern, with a branch office in
| the Columbia Bank Building of Pitts-
| burg, was placed in the hands of a
receiver. There are about 1,000
bondholders in this eity, represent-
ing a face value of abcut $300,000.
Receiver W. L. Watkins is Build-
ing and Loan Supervisor of Missouri.
Mr. Watkins issued a statement im
December showing affairs of the con-
cern to be in excellent shape and
that the assets of the company were
sufficient to pay all bonds with the
five per cent interest and all other
liabilities.
Mary DMinney, aged 15, pleaded
guilty tc arson before the Washing-
ton county Grand Jury and was sent
to the penitentiary for three years.
She confessed to having attempted
to burn the girls’ dormitory at the
Morganza Reform School, where she
was a prisoner, in the hope of es-
caping.
State Treasurer Berry said after a
conference with Superintendent of
Public Instruction Schaefer that he
would pay the school appropriation of
$5,500,000 which is due the first Mon-
day of June next as fast as the school
districts file their annual reports in
the departments of public instruc-
tion.
Contracts for the expenditure of
$3,000,000 for opening bodies of cok-
ing coal in Washington county esti-
mated to contain 200,000,000 tons, the
sinking of two of the largest coal
mine shafts in the world and the ex-
tension of the lines of the Pennsyl-
vania Railroad Company in Wash-
ington county, were signed. i
The Williamsburg Paper Mill Comi-
pany, promoted and financed by
Charles M. Schwab, has passed into
the control of the West Virginia
Paper & Pulp Company, which has al-
ready secured the Tyrone plant, and
fs said to be negotiating for the
Roaring Springs Plant. All three are
Blair county concerns.
Altoona City Councils have taken
action against the Pennsylvania Rail-
road Company in its attempt to ap-
propriate part of Ninth avenue for ad-
ditional track on the branch line to
Hollidaysburg. The railroad was
including in its domain 12 feet of
city ground.
Paul Lusher was sandbagged by
three highwaymen near East Sandy.
He was unconscious for half am
hour. The men stole his unindorsed
check for $66, to which they forged
an indorsement, then cashing it at
a clothing store. They have not been
apprehended.
Floyd Wildman, a student in Way-
nesburg college died last night from
measles. He was 19 years of age and
a son of Joseph Wildman of Mt. Mor-
ris, Pa. There are many cases of
measles among the students, but this
is the first death.
Returns from the Venango county
Republican primaries show that
Ira A. Milliron of Franklin and Wil-
liam F. Waitman of Plum township,
were nominated for assembly. D. B.
Goodwin of Oil City is the nominee
for district attorney.
A $20,000 damage suit has beem
filed against the owners of the Hagen
back circus, which
Castle, by Mrs. Oliver Allen.
she was watching the performance a
poles and it fell upon her.
Judge Walling of Erie appointed
Melvin J. Smith, a farmer of Beaver-
dam, to fill the unexpired term of
county commissioner made vacant by
the death of Norman T. McLallen.
Smith is a Republican. He will serve
until January 1, 19€9.
George W. Heffren, 65 years old, a
butcher of Oil City was killed by an
infuriated bull, which he was lead-
ing to a slaughter house. The ani-
mal was dehorned, but knocked Hef-
fren down and pawed him to death.
The Clearfield novelty works, be-
ing to former Congressman James
was dest by fire and the
watchman, ed Carlson, lost
his life.
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