“ SS eons EE —_ GR es IF KNOCKING PAID. If knocking paid, how easily We might win freedom from our cares! The problems that ar® hard for me Would soon be trivial affairs; T’d live in luxury and own An auto of the highest grade; With all my troubles overthrown, I'd shout for joy, if knogking paid. Of al] the things that people do I trow the easiest, by far, Is finding that the world’s askew, Ana knocking at the things that are. The lazy man who turns his gaze A thousand times upon the clock ‘And dawdles meanly through the days Is never too inert to knock. The one who labors all day long With brawny arms and all his might Finds that so very much is wrong, And, oh! so little that is right! = If knocking paid, his wife could wear Fine gems upon her soft, white hands, And there would be a palace where His poor, unpajnted cottage stands. Alas! that what™is must be so, That all things are not otherwise! This world is but a vale of woe, ; Where man must languish till he dies. «The easy things are not the kind That cause the cares we bear to fade, I do not doubt that we should find It hard to knock. if knocking paid. —Chicago Record-Herald. eet ® i «ah Amateur Snake-Charmer e LOD o® By BRADLEY GILMAN. pp .. The native band was playing on queer, uncouth instruments—both reed and string—in front of the Ca- sino in Helwan, near Cairo. Several wandering showmen were giving ex- hibitions with trained monkeys, snakes and «'her animals; and the piasters were pouring into their up- held tambourines. One swarthy showman, quick and cruel of hand, was putting a tired mongoos through his tricks close by the kiosk in which I was seated, nursing my rheumatic knee. The lit- tle creature seemed intelligent enough, but was evidently exhausted. Presently he balked altogether, and lay panting on the hot, yellow sand. The ow-or, eager for more pias- ters, at once gave him a sharp blow with a stick, and was about to repeat the blow, when a young American girl of about fourteen, fair, clear- eyed, sprang forward from the circle of spectators, leaping over a squirm- ing cobra that lay in her path, and caught the man’s upraised arm. Her eyes sparkled with indigna- tion; and she spoke at first in her mother tongue: “Stop that! Stop it, You cruel—"’ Then she remembered that the Egyptian fellah probably could not understand her, and she turned to the few native words she knew: “La, la! (No, no!) Moosh gwais! (Not right!) Matidrasch, matidrasch! {Don’t strike, don’t strike!) The showman may or may not have understood her exact words, but he could not mistake her determined ac- tion and her indignaiat blue eyes. His lips parted, and I thought I de- tected a gleam of defiance in his face; but that quickly yielded to a mechan- ical grin, his crafty eyes blinked, and he nodded obedience to her com- mand. He was equally ready to beat the helpless little creature or to re- frain from beating him, according as his hope of bakshish turned. He now stepped over the panting mon- 800s, stroked him with his lean, sin- ewy hand, and gabbled, “Poo’ li'l beast!, Poo’ 1i’l beast!” words which he had probably caught, without any very clear sense of their meaning, from pitying tourists. The girl re- leased her hold on the stick, dived into her pocket, and drew out a little harmonica, several fragments of doubtful native candy, a scarab, and several copper and silver coins. As if completing a bargain, she counted out four or five pieces of money, and gave them to the showman. “There!” she exclaimed. ‘Take that! But don’t let me see you strik- ing that poor little thing again! If I do, I'll have you arrested, and— and tried before the American con- sul: he's my uncle.” This happened in the forenoon. The donkey-races were just begin- ning, and I hobbled away to watch them. In the afternoon, as the glare of the midday sun sensibly diminished, I went out for ore of my somewiat infirm promenades. Coming around the ccrner of the Cheriah Mohammed Ali, just outside the now deserted Casino garden, 1 saw szveral of the showmen and their trained animals and ‘‘properties,’”’ sitting or lying in the warm sun, against the white wall of the Hotel des Bains. An Arab with a. ccbra lay at the end of the line. I recognized him by the ox-skin bag in which such as he carried their reptiles. A few peo- ple, natives or tourists, were walking along the shady side of the street, which I found myself instinctively seeking. One of these tourists was opposite the cobra-Arab, when I saw him stop and lcok across the street with some intentness. As I came near him, my gaze followed his; and I feit a tremor of uneasiness and fear as I saw the horrid brown head of the cobra pro- jecting from the bag, and thrusting this way and that in restless curiosi- ty. Another moment and the creature glided quite out of the bag. and his brownish-gray body extended its five feet of length along the dusty side- walk. His owner was all uncon- scious of passing events—probably too drunk, even if he had been awak- ened, to recover his reptile. The man beside me exclaimed, “I don’t like the appearance of that! What had we better dof?” But I had no plan to offer. The creature's fangs might have been drawn, and again they might not have been. In either case, I did not care to go near him. By this tim2 several other people had noticed us, and stood watching fhe now excited and active serpent. od TO As I had seen him performing that morning under the control of his Arab owner, he had appeared slug- gish and harmless; but now, feelinz that he was free, he appeared lively and vicious. ‘As the escaping snake glided swift- ly down the street I hobbled after, looking for some club or stone with which I might attack the dangerous creature. Suddenly I started with new alarm. There was indeed peril, and possible death impending over one or more human beings. Near the end of the wall, leaning against a tree, I saw a lame woman whose crippled figure was familiar to every tourist in Hel- wan; in her arms was a baby. Her husband plaeed her each morn- ing, with the wizened little child, at some favorable corner, there to re- main through the day, to beg from passers-by. To-day it was her ill- fortune to be placed under the tree directly in the path which the cobra was following. In a few moments he would reach her. My heart beat rapidly; and, un- mindful of my lameness, I impulsive- ly started forward on a run. The na- tives about me hai too little intelli- gence to render effective aid. The cobra glided on, and at intervals lifted his head into the air, expand- ing his hood, and turning his flat, evil head to one side and ‘he other, as if daring any one to bar his way. I suddenly became aware that somebody was moving across the street straight toward the reptile. Then I recognized the young Ameri- can girl whom I had seen in the fore- noon. I stopped in astonishment. I saw the girl wave one hand warn- ingly toward her mother—who stood spellbound on the sidewalk—and then hurry on toward the serpent. Could she be mad? Or was she ignorant of the reptile’s presence and path ? No, her gaze was direct- ed straight before her; and now I saw that she held some object in her hand. The next moment she raised the object to her mouth, and I heard the soft music of the harmonica. At once I comprehended the mean- ing of the girl's conduct. She had read about the power of music over serpents, and had seen Arab show- men exercise its influence. She was now bent, in her self-reliant, daring way, and in her pity for the helpless, crippled woman. upon trying to di- vert the excited, threatening reptile from his path. I could not repress a cry of alarm as I saw what she was attempting; but I was too far away to interfere. I could only look on, holding my breath in anxiety. I saw her go up to within {wenty feet of the cobra’s path, then drop to one knee, and there remain, playing and waiting, as steadily as if she had done the thing a hundred times before. The cobra raised his head and stopped; he spread his hood wide. He swayed his head back and forth two or three times; then he moved slowly up out of the depression or gutter in which he had been gliding, and advanced toward the girl. I knew that professional snake- charmers often draw these deadly creatures from some lurking-place in 2 house, but they always have 2a saucer of milk ready, interposed be- tween themselves and the serpent; and the creature, in its fondness for milk, is led to eat, and then is cap- tured or killed. . But there was no object here in- terposed between the reptile and the girl. What would happen when he reached her, gliding so slowly now, and yet with nervously darting head and flickering, forked tongue, I dared not think. I did not believe that her strength would quite hold her up in her im- pulsive purpose; therefore I was not sarprised, although I was horror- stricken, when I saw her shrink back as the fierce creature drew near. Certainly she trembled, she tottered; and the cobra was not five feet away from her! At that moment I heard a faint scream from the terrified mother, who seemed—Ilike so many people in Helwan—to be an invalid, as she dropped in a heap on the sidewalk; and I groaned in helpless sympathy. Then came a new and unexpected episode in the drama. The Egyptian showman who had the mongoos was ¢ zing at the extreme end of the white wall; and the mongoos—being now fully rested—was walking se- dately back and forth at the end of his tether, with that appearance of calm self-possession and conscious power which these strange animals show. . The mongoos is not &- native of Egypt, but of India. You see a few of them, however, in the possession of the fellaheen. It is possible that this one had never seen a cobra, pos- sible also that the cobra had never seen a mongoos; but between the two species is fixed a mortal an- tipathy. And the superiority is in favor of the mongoos, which does not move, ordinarily, with much speed, but on occasion, like the rat- tlesnake, can spring with astonish- ing rapidity. The mongoos was pacing slowly back and forth, :t the full length of his tether, hic long, tapering tail, like that of a kangaroo, drooped and trailing in the dust. Suddenly the tail stiffened and the small, ferret- like head rose. He had seen his ene- my. His strong hind legs gathered themselves, and with no apparent pause, he sprang straight at the os- cillating, hooded head some eight feet away. : His powerful leap parted the cord which held him to his master’s hand, but he overturned himself in his ef- fort and sprawled in the dust. Be- fore I could exactly discover how it was done the confused furry heap -..-4 again gathered itself, and I saw the now elongated form of the mongoos launched again at his hated enemy, just as the young girl wavered, her hand with the harmonica dropping at her side, and she fell, unconscious, upon her side in the dusty street. With unerring aim the mongoos struck the cobra in the neck, his teeth closing on the scaly, oscillating body like a vise. Instantly there was a fierce strug- gle. All that I could distinguish was a confused writhing and twisting; then the dust of the dry roadway en- veloped and obscured the combatants and the prostrate form of the girl. The fierce, invisible siruggle could not have continued more than a few seconds. As soon as possible I raised the in- sensible girl from the grqund, and carried her out of the dust and con- fusion to the sidewalk. A dash of water from the brass cup of a water- carrier revived mother and daughter; and the mother caught the girl in her arms. Then I was aware that the fierce struggle had ceased. There lay the motionless body of the cobra, hideous even in death. Near the body the brave mongoos was pacing back and forth, like a sentinel on guard. He glanced now and then with a critical eye at his dead foe, and appeared as self-pos- sessed and dignified as if nothing of importance had occurred. As soon as the sleeping, drink- stupified owner of the mongoos could be shaken into intelligence the gal- lant little creature passed, by sale, into my : ossession; and he later found a home in the garden of the American consul.—Youth’s Compan- ion. THE RISING “SCHOOL.” Our Young Men to Be Looked to to Make a Fair Tomorrow. Of course, whatever may be es- tablished with reference to the intel- lectual product of the old schools of former days, a door will still be open for those who mourn the de- cline of morals and the disappear- ance of “old-fashioned honesty’ from the land. “ust now we are right in the midst cf lamentations of this sort. Those who incline to optimism have newspapers and . frenzied magazines thrust before their eyes to be con- verted by reports of investigations into various forms of ‘‘graft.”” We are told that men occupying posi- tions of trust and honor have been found wanting in the virtues which are the very root of manliness and righteousness. All these things are true, alas! But are they the pro- ducts of the modern school? Look at the men at whom an indignant public is pointing the finger of scorn. Their hair is white, their eyes have lost the brightness of youth, their step is tottering; they were trained in the “thorough” schools of the past, where the schoolmaster’s word was law, where ‘lickin’ and larnin’ 2s went hand in hand; where the three Rs were the supreme anxiety. The investigators of these men who brought disgrace upon this country — they are the products of the mod- ern school. Philadelphia was re- deemed from political slavery by the voung men of the city. Almost everywhere the warfare upon ““erafi’”’ has had its beginning in the ranks of voung ‘men, most of them graduated from colleze within the last ten or twelve years. Thece young men had ideals and could not stand idly by while monstrous evils were threaten- ing to corrode the very foundations of democratic institutions. These young men founded good govern- ment clubs, not minding the scoifs of their cynical seniors. They organ- ized vigilance committees to bring to task the betrayers of public trusts, whom a diffident generation had lift- ed into power.—The Forum. Money in Tea Rooms. One of the very, first things that present themselves as a means of To cruiting a wrecked fortune is opening a tea room. Fortunes do not always follow this venture, but a- nice, com- fortable income can be derived from such an establishment if conducted by experienced hands and judicious management.—Madame. New York consumes close to 3.- 000,000 tons of ice annually, of which the “upply of the manufactured preduct amounts to 700,000 toms. NEW YORK AS SEEN BY A DIXIE GIRL. One of “Seventeen Most Popular” of the South Gives Her Impressions—Hurry in Work and Play—Even the Rocky island is Clamped.Down With Steel to Keep It From Running Away fo Sea—Says Women Look Hard--Admires Kitchen In Great Hotel, But Yearns For a Little Corn Pone or Beaten Biscuit. € ~~ Cri CECE ©» am—. By KATHERINE ROBERTSON. 2990 GENESIS © $ § © ENTERED € 0 0 0 0 CUEENERT § 9 ¢ © TOREETEEE 0 ¢ How New York hurries; hurries in work, hurries in play! There is something electric about the very air which makes one move the faster! When I get back to Chattanooga I shall find myself running across the streets and hurrying out of the cars as though all the world depended on my getting from one block to an- other. J know that 1 shall. The thing which has impressed us girls who have come up from the South to spend two weeks here is the fact that so many persons in New York do not seem to have anything else to do but to hurry just as fast as ever they can—doing nothing. How is it that you all find so much time to play while pretending that you are SO very, very busy? One of the first impressions which this great city made upon me with its noise, its confusion, its scurrying backward and forward, its din of bells and whistles and its roar of wheels, was that in spite of all their appearance of being so occupied many had nothing to do but to play. But then New York never really goes to bed. People are toiling when others play and playing when others work. Somebody always has a holiday and many are at their tasks when their eighbors are up in the roof gar- dens. All Classes Have Play Time. Of course, I know that somebody really does work, but when? At mid- day, in the afternoon, in the evening, at any hour of the day or night you go to places of amusement, you sit in the restaurants—at luncheon, breakfast, tea, dinner, supper. It certainly does seem to me that there are no three meals a day here, for there are so many persons who have nothing else to do but to eat at their leisure at all hours and to look out upon the streets, where thousands come and go, just as though they were intended to run up and down that way forever and ever. Do you know that there is some- thing fascinating about this city of yours? Of course you must know it, or you would not stay here and keep settling here year after year. I won- der how it is possible for so many to find a place to live on this little, rocky island, all clamped down with steel and weighted down with big masses of stone as though you were afraid that the very ground would hurry away from under your feet and go galloping out to sea, playing to be hard at work. But you don’t labor in this town as they do down South—as far as length of time is concerned, at “east. In New. York the people squeeze all their work into a few hours, and then away their go in their cars and auto- mobiles, hastening to the country, hurrying to the theatres and running toward the beaches. All classes have time to play, for in the parks I see laborers and their families taking life as easy as a New York man can and having such a good time. It isn't any wonder that the first thing that a stranger asks of New York is, “When do you work?” New York Men Chivalrous. Do you know that before I came here I heard much about the coldness and exclusiveness of New York peo? ple, and I was not prepared to like them at all. Well, they do have that constrained air about them, but it is all an affectation. They don’t mean it. At heart they are kindly, polite and attentive. y And the men! Oh, I do like the New York men. They are the very soul of chivalry; they are courteous; they never presume; they take the greatest pleasure in doing any ser- vice. They are always so respectful and attentive, yet when there is any fun and any gayety they enter into it all with such spirit. They stop at nothing. They have such an air of knowing all about life; their manners are perfect; they are so bright and up to date, and their conversation is always interesting and entertaining. You hear of thechivalry of the South- ern people, but those in New York know better how to be chivalrous. Here in New York a girl would soon forget how to do her own “toting.” Now, about the women? I'm afraid that I ought not to write this, but I must say that those whom I have seen impress me as very artificial. Compared to the women whom I have seen in the South, they do not seem to be sincere. But how they do dress! ‘What style and carriage they have! How well they wear their clothes, and what an air of distinction! A New York woman would be known anywhere. Hard Look About the Mouth. The expression of the faces of New York women, although I cannot ex- actly describe it, is something which one is not likely to forget. Well—I may as well say it—they have a hard look around the mouth and under the eyes, and I have not seen many of them who looked really happy. 1 think that one coming from the West or South might learn in two or three months to dress like the women of New York, and probably in a year or so she would get that same expres- sion. It is something that one seems to feel, but it is hard to define or de- scribe. I don’t know that I care for it, and would not care to have my friends look that way: It is very interesting to watch thousands of faces which you have never seen before and will never see again. It is different from some of the little towns in the South that I know, where you know everybody and everybody knows you, and loves you. Is it not a wonderful study in human nature? 1 rather like it. How you New Yorkers have re- duced living to a science! You cer- tainly do know how to live. The city is so spick and span and smart. You can see it in the hotels, little and big, where there is always such system and such a neat and expeditious way of doing things. Why, the house- keeping of these great inns of vours is just marvellous. They took us through the Waldorf-Astoria the oth- er night from cellar to roof garden. The kitchen was certainly a delight. Everything was shining and bright. I saw them making little automobiles out of almond paste and ice cream and mnesselrode pudding, but they didn’t have any corn pone or any beaten biscuit in the whole house. No Green Anywlere. How big and clean and shiny the whole city is with its tall skyscrapers without a speck on them, just as though they were dusted every morn- ing, and the great apartment houses which look as if they were washed all over every night! But how close together you all live! Down South we like to have large lawns and here you haven't anything like that, not even the Van- derbilts. Even Mr. Morgan has only a tree or two. You scarcely have anything green around the houses to give your eyes a rest. We girls like to get out in the yard under the trees, where we can have tea and talk. New York is a wonderful place, and sometimes I feel that if I had a great deal of money I would like to live here for a while, and then again I am not so very sure of it. All the same, I must say that it certainly is a charming locality.—New York Her- ald. IN OLD WAR DAYS. How the Great Struggle Made Busi- ness For the Bucksport Stage. If one wants to hear marvellous tales concerning stage driving in old times he should go to Bucksport and secure talks with some of the old chaps who can remember back to-the days of the Civil War. Then, as now, Bucksport was ‘‘eighteen miles from everywhere’’—from Bangor, Belfast, Castine, Ellsworth and several other smaller places. Stages left the old Robinson House in processions every day. Some of those old drivers were re- markable men, skilled in handling the “ribbons,’”” very popular with their patrons and heroic in their labors to be on time under every con- dition of weather. The names of these men would fill considerable space in a newspaper. Most of them are dead now, but they are not for- gotten. There is another aspect of stage driving during the Civil War times, which no one has recorded as yet— the great traffic which was carried on by hackmen and stages in carry- ing persons who were anxious to get away to New Brunswick as soon and as quietly as possible. The demand for soldiers was urgent, because the needs of the nation were great. Many young men who were physically able to serve in the ranks did not have a liking for the job, and sooner than argue the case, they sought rest and seclusion under her Majesty's flag, even as many vessels owners did for | their property, which was exposed to the ravages of Confederate teers. Not all of these young men who sought New Brunswick for safety were residents c¢f Maine by any means. Many came to Bucksport by the Boston boat, and went inland on stage or on foot or by private con- veyance, as their finances dictated. If the stories of those refugezs could be told, much of interest weculd be revealed. . Every stage driver knew the ‘“‘Ske- dadlers,” as they were called, and all paid heavy tribute to powers that controlled the routes. From 1862 to 1864 thousands of men from ‘Maine and other New England States took advantage of the facilities of- fered by remote stage lines and ef- fected their escape, though a major- ity of them returned and “squared” themselves with the Government be- fore the close of the war. Incidentally, it may be well to say here that the famous Bar Harbor and Bangor line was claimed to be the swiftest and most elegant service by horse-power in the country.—Bangor (Me.) News. priva- Fusing Rubies. Little rubies, the price of which is considerably below that of large ones of the same ‘quality, are finely powdered, and then fused together in the electric furnace. The mass is quickly cooled by some trick that is net made public, resulting in a gem of good size, and retaining the desired lustre and’ tint. Neither the sapphire nor the emerald can be subjected to this treatment, KEYSTONE STATE CULLINES NEW STATE CAPITOL .. Building Commission Has Accepted the Building from Contractors— Dedication Will Be in October. The new -state capitol was accepted by the capitol buiiding commission from the contractors, George F. Payne & Company of Philadelphia, and turned over to the board of public grounds and buildings of which Gov- ernor Pennypacker is president. The commission announc:zd at the close of its meeting that it would turn back into the state treasury between $30,- 000 and $40,000 out of the $4,000,000 appropriated. The building is prac- tically finished and is now being cleaned and made ready for the dedi cation ceremonies on Octcber 4, The acceptance of the building by the commission carries with it the ae- ceptance of the $60,000 bronze doors containing the heads of members or the commission and other distinguish- ed Pennsylvanians at the main en- trance. State Zoologist Surface has advis- ed Gov. Pennypacker that he will be able to furnish 60,000 specimens for the natural history section of the pro- posed state museum. These speci- mens will include insects, reptiles, mammals, and birds which Dr. Sur- face has gathered and also a fine fish exhibit which he has collected in con- junction with the state department of fisheries. Dr. Surface’s collection contains specimens which, he says, are priceless. Most of them were gifts to the state, and to attempt to duplicate some would be almost im- possible. In one case there are three specimens of a kind of a weasel of which only six are known to be in existence. Every animal, bird or in- sect which related to agriculture has been studied and will be included in Fi collection being made by Dr. Sur- ace. Mistaken by her husband for a bur- glar, Mrs. R. R. Abrams, wife of a well known riverman, of Mononga-~ hela, was shot twice, one bullet pene- trating her left hand and the other grazing her elbow. On returning to his home late in the evening, Capt. Abrams called several times to his wife, but received no answer. On going to her room on the second floor he knocked on the door. but re- ceived no reply. Deciding his wife was out he started down stairs, but hearing a noise in his wife’s room he stopped. As the footsteps ap- proached he fired through the door and his wife fell to the floor scream- ing. Dr. C. B. Wood and D* F Lynn were called and dressed Mrs. Abrams’ wounds. Two fingers of her left hand were amputated. The theft of half a watermelon val- ued at 25 cents cost Washington county $53.74. James Applegate and John Crail of Mcnogahela, were re- leased from jail after serving a short sentence for the offence. Monongahela alderman they pleaded guilty to a charge of purloining a half of a watermelon from Amzi Workmen who had them arrested. They were fined $1 and costs, and having no money, were sent te jail for 30 days. The fees of the alderman the con- stable who made the arrest, the sher- iff for making the commitment, and the amount of the men’s board in jail brought the total cost of their incar- ceration to $26.67 each. A brutal assault and robbery occur- red at Jamisonville, Butler county. A tramp stopped at the house of An- tonio Marcell, a miner, and finding the miner’s wife alone, demanded food and money. She chased the intruder off at the point of a shotgun. Later he returned with four companions. They beat the woman until they be- lieved her insensible, threw her out of the house and then stole $50 and the shotgun. Public Printing Superintendent Pom- eroy has issued an order that here- after no more copies of Smul’s Legis- lative Hand Book will be rebound at the public expense. The entire edi- tion of this document, which is is- sued every year by the State, will be bound in blue cloth with leather tips and back. Heretofore 8,000 and 10,000 copies of each edition were rebound at an additional cost to the State of $1 a copy. Valuable properties went at bargain prices when the Pennsylvania Rail- road held a sale ¢f homes under which its new line is being bhnii- through Blairsville. Houses that cost $2,000 and $3,000 were sold for $100. The highest price paid was $350. The railroad will run through a tunnel under Market street, 32 feet below the surface. Fully 16,000 people attended the Center and Clinton counties business men’s picnic at Hecla park. At Bel- lefonte, Lock Haven and surrounding towns not a store was open. # The day was devoteu entirely to sport and amusement, ending at night with a big fireworks display. John Irvin Myers, an engineer in the Pennsylvania rairoad yards at Enola, was drowned in Conodoguinet creek, near West Fairview, where he was camping with a party of young people. Eight of the 20 hot mills of the Greer tin plant at New Castle, will re- sume orperations after having beem idle since July 4. Repairs and im- provements have been made. Eighteen of the 30 survivors of Company F. Forty-sixth Pennsylvania regiment, largely recruited in Alle- gheny and Beaver counties, held a re- union at the home of Matthew Nelson at Hookstown. Three members of the company died during the year. They were James V. Ewing, Robert Baines and Cyrus Shade. all of Pitts- burgh. Seven men were injured by the ex- plosion of a 400-pound bronze casting at the Ajax Metal Company in Phila- { delphia. Three of the injured, John i Carr, Mire Getz and Jager Brososki, may die. Before a. - nt Th She dress . Sang little old | hear wear is w grea pou as New she WOO to 1 suit was but ay Jer: blue bit and out ing her sen: tha of Stes to
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers