WOULD | FATE BE KIND?
RONDEAT REDOUBLT
Would Fate be kind, and give our childnvod back,
All the long years which we have left behind,
And bid us walk
Which we have
again the self-same track
ollowed, ignorant and blind—
. Should we be glad the same old path to find,
With every sorrow,
every loss and lack,
And every burden for the heart and mind—
Would Fate be kind and give our childhood back
Would Grief’ wild storms,
Disaster’s Thunder-crack,
Be recompensed by all Life’s joys combined ?
Would we toil on beneath Care’s heavy pack,
All the long years which we have left behind?
Fair fruits were bitter,
underneath the rind;
In bluest skies the tempest gathered black:
Would we rejoice, should Fate her skein rewind,
And bid us walk again the self-came track?
Why change the dates in Time's grim almanac?
Safe with the past let them remain enshrined;
Nor crave the path in Life’
Which we have followed,
s cramped zodiac
ignorant and blind.
We should not be more happy or resigned,
Nor suffer less from scourge, and knout, and rack,
Briers and thorns with nettles intertwined.
If she should send us on the self-same track.
Would Fate be kind?
—Elizabeth Akers, in Putnam’s.
For five vears I had been confined
to my armchair by paralysis. Occa-
sionally I would be carried down to
an open carriage and taken for an
hour or two through the city, or the
neighboring country. My legs—well,
there is no necessity to speak of
them; one of my arms was still able
to move, and, thanks to it, I could
still eat alone. But my eyes were
good and my hearing was acute.
One day, when the time was ex-
tremely dull, I fancied that I would
Yegain complete calmness if I could
-hear an opera. My friends remon-
strated, but I insisted. I cannot tell
how happy I was—I was going to be
filled with music, good musie. By an
unexpected chance they played “Le
Prophete,” one of the works that I
had always preferred.
At last the hour came. My niece
of sixteen was to accompany me.
Two strong men carried me to my
chair. Fortunately we did not live
very far from the theatre.
My nephew had thoughtlessly se-
cured seats in the first circle. No
matter, my two bearers installed me
there, me and my armchair. I was
directly in the centre, just opposite
the stage, and I saw admirably all the
theatre, from the pit and the orches-
tra chairs to the boxes of the fourth
circle, that legendary place where you
are not incommoded by the chande-
lier—you see over it. I remained
alone with my niece, who was as
much enchanted as I was.
They played the first act. I do not
remember ever to have enjoyed in
my life happiness so complete, so
heavenly. The second, third and
fourth acts were rendered in a man-
ner that I thought perfect.
During the intermission I noticed
between two violoncellos an odd little
creature, in whom I felt unaccounta-
bly interested. He was a poor, mis-
erable fellow, shockingly deformed,
but his features were quite regular.
When he played all his body moved
and appeared to wrap itself around
the violoncello in a fantastic and lov-
ing manner; forming a singular con-
trast, his face assumed a serious and
almost austere expression, and the
light of enthusiasm illumined his
eyes.
I mused in silence until the mo-
ment when Jean of Leyden thinks
that he should reveal his accomplices
that they must die with him. Then
a white smoke rose on the scene
through the cracks in the floor. It
excited no attention, and was only
thicker than the smoke usually em-
ployed, but suddenly there was an
explosion and a flash that dimmed the
lights in the auditorium; then all the
dancers rushed toward the wings; the
tenor lifted his white robe and liter-
ally took flight, and all the other
singers and choristersdisappeared one
after another.
“What does this mean?” demand-
ed some of the audience, already
alarmed.
Here a young woman appeared on
the stage, running. The most fright-
ful terror was expressed in her face.
The poor girl, distracted, sprang into
the orchestra, screaming in a choking
voice: “Fire!” ;
The ° audience started with one
sound. Oh, I remember all as if it
were still passing before my eyes.
The musicians stopped suddenly, but
not all together, for some random
notes broke forth, here and there, on
the air. Frantic with fear, they
rushed toward the door of the orches-
tra, but quickly returned. The re-
"treat was cut off. They must escape
by the auditorium.
The auditorium!
thing was frightful, horrible, incon-
ceivable! It was a battlefield. At
first I did not appreciate the danger,
-and then I trembled and shook with
an unnatural fear. Alone with
Jeanne—alone with that child who
could do nothjng for me and who re-
mained calm. I realized that I must
remain where I was, without being
able to stir, at the mercy of the fire,
which. would slowly advance to lick
mé, to burn me alive, to consume me.
Nevertheless, I did not lose my pres-
ence of mind.
“Quick!” I said to little Jeanne,
“fly, my chiid, and hasten
some ¢ne who will take
there is time.”
A young man who had noticed my |
niece hurried toward her.
““Comnie, little one,” said he to the
child. Vithout ceremony he pulled
ber aiong by the hand.
Ah, there every-
me away, if
”
to find |
‘But my uncle, my uncle!”
the girl.
‘Oh; let him come,”
swered two or three voices from the
crowd who were crushing themselves
without mercy at the narrow door.
They left me there.
During this time the struggle was
desperate in the orchestra chairs,
stalls and pit. There were only four
doors, each three feet wide, for this
torrent that wanted to 'ff%h out in
two seconds. The terrified people
used all their efforts to reach these
doors. Each wished to pass those
who were in advance. They pushed,
cried, shrieked and fought with fury.
Two strong men braced themselves
back to back near an opening that
they intended to pass before any one
else, and during that time no one,
neither they nor the others, could es-
cape. Behind them were sobs and
imprecations, and the crowd pushed
with blind fury.
I saw some Young men =who had
already felt the heat of the flames
jump on the seats and then on the
shoulders of those nearest the door.
Thus they crawled along on their fel-
low sufferers.
Meanwhile the scenery was burn-
ing. The flames were rapidly ap-
proaching the auditorium. The heat
had become more intense. I was
perspiring freely, but it was more
from fear than from heat. Already
the spectacle was sublime—sublime
and grand. In spite of the anguish
which chilled my heart, I found some-
thing violently gay in those enormous
tongues of fire, frisking before me
and caressing the front of the stage.
At the doors the contest was be-
coming more violent, more compact,
more frantic. Oh, woe to the weak!
Woe to the kind! Woe to all those
who had not yet consented to become
ferocious beasts.
I saw a great demon, his eyes dis-
tended with fear, stretch out his
hand. He seized by the shoulders
a young woman in front of him, and
dragged her backward, so as to gain
her place, at least. The contracted
fingers of that giant hand were driv-
en into her flesh, and bruised and
scratched it. But she resisted mad-
ly, fighting with- all her strength and
cried
trying in her turn:to plunge her nails
into the face of the cruel man. That
dastard I knew by sight. He was
regarded in society as a polished gen-
tleman.
Suddenly a fireman appeared.
Why had he come? I called out. He
looked at me, seeming to ask what
I was doing there, and disappeared.
I supposed he was coming to my res-
cue. Not at all.
Little by little, however, the the-
atre emptied. Some who had waited
until the last still had the courage
to draw into the corridor the van-
quished on whom the crowd had
trampled. Among them many women
were mortally wounded.
The fire had reached the orchestra.
The stands were overturned; violins,
hautboys, flutes, clarinets lay on the
floor. Scarcely any one had the pres-
ence of mind to take away his instru-
ment. On some of the stands, still
erect, there were scores and sheets
of music already scorching. The
smoke, quite thick from the first, was
drawn toward the roof by some phe-
nomenon of ventilation.
The sheets of music curled slowly;
the heat was becoming intolerable,
and a violin string broke from the
heat of the fire. That sound of the
dying instrumenc was heartrending in
its sadness. Soon all the harp strings
snapped, one after another. This
admirable, exquisite instrument
seemed tq sing i's death song in that
agony. . A melody flew away into the
flame with its soul. After the harp,
the strings of the bass-viol broke,
with a sharp sound, like the reports
of a revolver.
At this moment a head rose in the
door of the parquet to the left. It
seemed to be a child's head. Soon
the body entered. Suddenly it took
two steps forward, and I screamed.
It was not a child. It was the little,
deformed musician. Deliberately he
walked toward the orchestra. A vol-
ume cf fire stopped him. He recciled
but appeared not to renounce some
mad project. Seizing a favorable
moment, he darted forward. His
arms covering his face to protect it,
i he approached his place among the
“musicians. He had returned to sesk
his friend, his conmipanion—his vio-
loncello. 1 saw him take the instru-
ment in both hands and try to lift
sharply an-.
1 over the railing which’ “separates
the orchestra from the parquet. What
folly! I trembled violently with anx-
iety. Involuntarily, and in a ter-
rible voice, I roared: ‘Go away! Go
away!”
Then, all at once, he seemed to
succeed. The violoncello, finally ex-
tricated from the chairs which en-
cumbered it, moved toward him,
when, nearly at the same instant, all
the violins and violoncellos, the light
wood of which had become overheat-
cd, burst into a blaze simultaneously.
The little fellow relaxed his grasp,
tottered and fell forward headlong
into the orchestra, and upon his burn-
ing instrument. For some seconds
I gasped and stretched out my arm
—my one arm—to the place where
I had seen that strange and sombre
figure rise. 1 saw him, still moving
in the midst of the flames, extend
his blackened arms, and then sink
into the glowing coals.
Probably he did not hear me. The
fire spread all around him. He stood
on a chair, and then placing one foot
on the separating railing, he dragged
his violoncello.
I almost forgot my own situation
in the excitement. Poor little crea-
ture, so brave, and who must have
been good and intelligent, and to
whom I had never spoken! I see
him still there, before my eyes, stand-
ing on that chair, and making those
great efforts.
The flames became more violent.
It was like a furnace. The cornices
and other projecting parts of the
front of the stage kindled rapidly
now. I could scarcely disfinguish
anything more. The smoke blinded
and choked me. My time had come.
I was going to die.
The enemy advanced slowly and
steadily. Had I lost all hope of being
saved? No, I must admit I had not.
Yes, I hoped still. My hopes were
carefully built on the death of the
poor ‘cellist. Since he had been able
to return for his instrument, others
would be able to enter in seareh of
me and carry me out.
Then, like an immense wave, an-
other velume of smoke enveloped and
stified me. Although the fire had
not yet reached the woodwork of my
box, the heat was so violent that I
began to feel my blood boiling. The
sensation of burning became terribly
appreciable. 1 knew I would not be
able to retain consciousness much
more than two minutes longer. The
sweat ran from my forehead and
temples down my cheeks and beard.
A brand detached from I don’t
know .where described a curve
through the auditorium and fell into
the box next me. My resignation
could not withstand that. Decidedly
I did not want to die. Save me!
Save me! Ijhad no other wish, no
other desire. *
But my fury, my heartrending
cries, my frantic gestures, were all
in vain. No one came. My beard
was scorching and commencing to
burn. I felt an itching sensation in
my face, on my neck and at the roots
of my hair. Now I made a great
effort and moved in my chair.
“There is still time,” thought I.
I determined to rise and walk. It
was only for a moment. After in-
clining my body forward, I made a
sudden movement. My eyes flashed.
I believed I was going to walk. It
was only for a moment. No, no;
my legs were not willing. They re-
mained reluctantly paralyzed. My
excitement again became violent. I
tried once more. No, no, no. Now
I felt only that I was dying. It was
no longer possible to endure one
degree of heat more. Before my
eyes a blinding light; around me,
everywhere, above me, below me, the
fire. I remained passive; perhaps I
fell. I know nothing more. I was
abandoned.
Eight hours afterwards I found
myself in bed again. My little niece
in running for help had fallen and
was severely wounded in the head.
She had been carried away fainting,
and it was only after recovering her
senses that she was able to speak.
Two men were dispatched to my res-
cue, and drew me from the furnace
just as I became unconscious.—
Translated for the Argonaut, from
the French of Camille Debans.
RICHES IN CORNSTALKS.
Enough Power Now Wasted to- Run
All the Nation’s Machinery.
Prof. Wiley, of the Department of
Agriculture says that inasmuch as
every 100 pounds of cornstalks will
yield six and a half pounds of abso-
lute alcohol it is obvious that the
ignorant agriculturist has been allow-
ing an enormous amount of wealth to
go to waste.
Say that one acre will yield from
ten to twelve tons of grain stalks, or
about 20,000 pounds, and you have
a quantity of raw material which will
produce 1300 pounds of absolute al-
cohol, or 216 gallons. Alcohol at the
present time is worth forty cents a
gallon.
Ground in a wet condition and
dried, cornstalks may be kept in-
definitely, and are ready at any time
for conversion into alcohol. Prof.
Wiley says that the alcohol derivable
from the cormstalks that now go to
waste in this country would not only
drive all the machinery of our facto-
ries, but would furnish the requisite
power for all our railroads and steam-
boats, run all of our automobiles,
heat and illuminate all of our houses
and light the streets of every city
in the Union.—From Leslie's Weekly.
Dodging the Spotlight.
Courtesy is becoming so rare that
the man who gives up his seat in a
street car feels as if he were playing
to the grand stand.— Cleveland
Leader.
THE MISEE
{ walked uptown for thirty days
And saved five cents cach day
The sum was just a dollar hiv a half.
I'll save in many ways.”
I thought: “Each little swing pays;
My common sense began to make me laugh,
I never went to any play
Nor to a good cafe;
I saved a undred dollars and some cents.
I said: “By every means I'll save,
To saving be a slave;”
My money madness soon became jitense.
Cigars and drinks I cast aside,
At cigarettes I shied,
And every day I grew to be more mean.
L Shought: I even will not lend
Leip a starving friend;
T Ne on soap and gave “up being clean.
At sordid tricks I thus got wiser
Until T was a miser.
My savings grew- and grew and grew and
grew,
said: “TI wed a pretty girl;”
I did: she was a pearl.
Tre money flew and flew 2nd flew and
New York Sun.
‘Edgar is a splendid talker, isn’t
fhe?” “One of the finest I ever es-
caped from.”’—Life. >
Mr. Jawback—‘‘The biggest idiots
always seem to marry the prettiest
women.’’ Mrs. Jawback—‘ ‘Now,
you're trying to flatter me.””—Cleve-
land Leader.
“What makes that goat shiver so,
Mike?’’ ‘‘He ate a lot av sleigh bells
th’ other day, an’ ivry toime he moves
they jingle, an’ he thinks it’s win-
ter.”’—Denver Post.
Candidate for Crew—‘Could you
tell me where the rhetoric class is be-
ing held?’ Candidate for Football—
“I don’t know,: I'm a student here
myself.””—Town Topics.
If money talks,
As some folks tell,
To most of us
It says:
“Farewell!”
—Lippincott’s.
Admiral—‘“And what made you
wish to become a sailor, my boy?’
Navy Candidate (in perfect good
faith) —‘‘Because he’s got a wife in
every port, sir.”—Punch.
Little Edna—‘“What is ‘leisure,’
mamma?’ Mamma—‘It's the spare
time a woman has in which she can
do some other kind of work, my
dear.””—Chicago Daily News.
He (sententiously)—“1I always
speak my mind.” She (tartly)—"I
suppose that is why you have the
reputation of being a man of so few
words.”’—Baltimore Amreican.
“What have you in the shape of
cucumbers this morning?’ asked the
customer of the new grocery clerk.
# Nothing but bananas, ma’am,’” was
the reply.—Christian Register.
Mother—‘‘Whatever are you doing
to poor dolly, child?” Child—“I'm
just .going to put her to bed, mom-
mer. I've taken off her hair, but I
can’t get her teeth out. Souris.
“The suitable garment for chauffeurs,’
Said Stickler, “is settled at last.
The fabric is quite uneéssential,
So long as the colors are fast!’ »
—Lippincott’s.
Nell—‘‘Yes, she said her husband
married her for her beauty. What
do you think of that?’ Belle—‘‘Well,
I think her husband must feel like
a widower now.’’—Catholic Standard
and Times. :
The judge was at dinner in the
new. household when the young wife
asked: “Did ¥8% every try any of my
biscuits, judge?” ‘'‘No,” said the
judge, “I never did, but I dare say
they deserve it.”
Mistress—‘‘Bridget, have you ce-
mented the handle on to the water-
jug which you dropped yesterday?”
Bridget—‘‘I started to, mum, but
most unfortunately I dropped the ce-
ment bottle.””—Punch. »
S$ THE DAY OF
S$ THE FARMER.
@
°
00000000006006000000000000
The farmer who is an amateur is
a really increasing factor in to-day’s
life. In fact, farming is rapidly be-
coming one of the professions. We
have our agricultural schools, just as
we have our law schools.
It is getting to be a business as
well. Farmers have their trusts,
like other manufacturers.
It is a far cry from the New Eng-
land farmer, trying to-arrange an ex-
ploded granite quarry into a stone
wall that he may have room in which
®
®
Qo
o
e
o
®
to plant his crop, and that master of
capital, science and black earth ten
feet deep who plows with a traction
engine and reaps with a ten-horse
team. And between these ‘two types
of farmers the drift is steadily toward
the latter.
The comic paper does not laugh
at the “granger’’ as frequently as it
used to laugh. It wants his sub-
scription.
The capitalist does not foreclose
mortgages on the prairie farm now.
He borrows money from its owner.
And, what is vastly more import-
ant, the entire country looks with a
respect bordering upon apprehension
en this new type of American who
has deeided views on railroads,
trusts, and, in fact, on every subject,
from the ‘‘green bug’ to the lecturer
at his Chautauqua. This rise of the
farmer into national significance is
welcome in view of the inundation of
great cities by immigrants who have
significance only en masse.
The farm is the nursery of indi-
vidualism. If you are a cliff-dweller
in the city send your boy there this
summer, and let him see what it
means to create wealth with the help
of nature rather than with the ticker.
You will help make him a better
American.—Editorial in The World
To-Day.
now $1,173,000 on a capital stock of
PENNSYLVANIA STATE NEWS
HIS BANK DISAPPEARED
——— >
Franklin = Institute of Philadelphia |
Now Assured of Building. Old Gum Boot.
As a memorial to her father, who! John Vanca, a Donora
for vears was interested in scientific | who used a rubber boot torn savings:
research, Mrs. Anna Weightman .
Walker has contributed $50,000 to the | bank, has had a lesson in finance.
fund for a proposed new building for | Vanca boarded with T.ucius Spirie,
the Franklin Institute of Philadel- | and secretly deposited his savings in
phia. { the rubber boot, which he found hang-
Mrs. Walker inherited $60,000,000. ing in an attic room. Vanca's sav-
As the result of Mrs. Walker's gift | Ings amounted to $150.
the society will be enabled to secure | Recently Spirie decided to visit his
the $125.000 known the Franklin Dative land. and in his trunk packed:
fund. which was founded by Benja- his rubber boots. When Vanca desir-
min Franklin and which is controlled ed to make another deposit he found
by the board of city trusts of Phila<] the bank had disappeared. ’
delphia. The latter board over a | The Hungarian >
year ago voled to turn the fund over about the house. shouting that he:
to the institute on condition that Dad been robbed. until Mrs. Spirie
$200,000 be raised by outside contri- explained the situation. Vanca hopes
Drtions. to recover the money. In the mean-
time a surprice awaits Spiric when
he pulls on the hoots in. his native:
land.
Hungarian Deposited Money In Am
MRS. WALKER GIVES $50,000 |
Hungarian,
as
rushed frantically
BLACK HAND DENIES
to Impeach Confession
Made by a Member.
The defense of Antonio and Carlo
De Grosge and Antonio and Gaetonio
Scimis, alleged members of the Black
Hand Society, who are charged with
having written threatening letters to
John Albertoletti, a weaithy Jeannette
Italian, was begun in Greensburg.
The defendants entered a general 10
denial tosthe confession made by he siding. of the West Penn Rail-
Semme De Grosse, who was arrested. road, loaded with sup from the
as he was taking a package from the | coonerage company. origin = of
spot designated in the letters to Al- the fire unknown.
bertoletti. He turned state's evidence | The residents of West Apollo fought
and. on the witness stand toid the de- the fire alone for some time until the
tails of the alleged plot. He claimed department of Apollo was summon-
that with a revolver piaced to his ed. By the time it arrived it was
head by Gaetonio Scimis he had been | impossible to save either of the build-
compelled to take oath he would chevy The ereatest loss is on the ma-
instructions and not tell of the exist- | ¢hinery of ceoperage plant. the
ence of the society. loss cn the 22.000.
"TAXPAYERS TAKE
Greene County to Co-Operate in Con-
struction of Bridge at Millsboro.
More than 200 Greene county
payers filed a petition for the ap- |
poirtment of a board of viewers to |
meet a similar board from. Fayette
county and take action on the ques-
tion of building a bridge across the
Monongahela river at Millsboro. Northampten Bank was
The court appointed Engineer J. clected ident of the clearing
C. Webster, D. L. Donley and N. H. | ©
Biddle. The Fayette county hoard It
has already been appointed. and the :
two boards will meet on the site of
the proposed structure.
AFTER PROMOTOR
Attempts
FIRE CAUSES $20,000 LOSS
Apolic- Ceoperage Plant Burns in the
Early Morning.
$20.0 damage, oc-
Apollo. “destroying the
entire plant cf Anollo Cooperage
ompany, the min residence ad-
ng and six hox cars standing on
Fire canseing 00
enrred in West
Renji
lies
The
is
the
house heing only
ORGANIZE CLEARING HOUSE
Meet and Prepare to
Certificates.
Easton banks
ACTION
Bankers Issue
tax- organized a
house oeciation. The
) n. National the Easton
Trust: Company and the Northampton
Trrst Company the organizing in-
stitutions. . E. JF... Richards of the
The
ing
'aAnk,
Nati
National
once if
aring
issue clea
denominations
$15 and $20.
ordinarily pay in-
asked not to
90 days.
in
$5. 310,
rtificates
$4,
house
of 1
TYSHintions which
st cn deposits
so for a yeriod
tere were
.do of
JUSTICE METED OUT
Prisoner Is Sentenced in One Day on
Second-Degree Verdict.
‘ted and sentenced in &
experience of Jos.
murdering Jos.
station, West
Man Who Worked Alleged Fake SWIFT
Mining Scheme Held Up.
Attorneys D. M. Hertzog and H. L
Robinson of Uniontown have gone to
Falton Cal., to hear testimony be-
fore a notary in the case of Dr. S. S.
Stahl, of Connellsville, Pa., who is
charged in 21 counts with receiving
cash and subscriptions for gold min-
ing stock, which it is claimed proved
to be practically worthless.
Many prominent Fayette = county
people are among the plaintiffs.
Tried. convix
single day, was the
Pettite, charged with
Fenoglietto .¢f Penn
moreland county.
_Pattite was a suitor of Fenogliets
's daughter, but the: father object-
n quarreled last Sep-
rzed Pettite shot
10g] . ¥ jury. returned a ver-
HUNTER SHOOTS: HIMSELF dict of second degree murder. © Judge
ty imposed a sentence of seven
rs and five hs in the Western
ry.
{WO ne
> avid it is el
mont
jitentis
Lies Mortzally ‘Wounded Before Cries
Are Heard. :
Jacob Phillini. 35
Blacklick township.
is dead, as the result of an Patrolman Ober Fi re on Sen-in:Law
Shoouny hunti 1 3 as He Flourishes Knife.
Phillipi was hunting alone, when er ;
his gun fell from a log and both bar- nome
rels ‘were discharged. The charges So
entered an arm and a leg. He suffer- scal
ed for hours, when his faint. cides |
were heard by John Phillipi, a broth-
er. He died frem the loss of blood
A widow survives.
vears old, SHOOTS RELATIVE
Somerset. county
accidental
special
park, near
gon-in-1r.w,
abdomen.
after the shooting
victim ‘to the - Potts-
He then went to the
1d admiited the shoot-
(George Geist,
Ringing Rocks
fatally shot
Davis, twice in
Immediately
(Geist took his
town hospital.
police station ar
ing.
It is said that
his
the
Want Oleo Law Changed.
Secretary of Agriculture Critchfield :
and Dairy and Food Commissioner from his home,
Foust have prepared a joint letter | Kill her. Later
which is being sent to every Pomona home. flourisning a
and subordinate grange in Pennsyl- | Was shot.
vania, urging that dairymen shall cir-
culate petitions to send to United
States Senators and members of Con-
gress asking that tne oleomargarin¢
law be so changed as to protect the |
dairy interests of the country.
Davis drove his wife
and threatened to
entered the Gelst
butcher knife and
he
THREE KILLED IN WRECK
Collision of Freight Trains Fatal
One Crew.
siding, near Empor-
train was standing at
when another train
engine crashing
caboose. Three train-
caboose were killed.
The dead Thomas Welsh, Cas-
per Frve and Mr. Cleary. One man
was flung upon the headlight of the
the others were buried under
which took fire.
to
Howard's
freight
water tank.
info it, the
the
At
inm.
the
ran
through
nien in the
Bank Has Proud Record.
The First National Bank of Union-
town, of which J. V. Thompson is
president, .declared its . semi-annual
dividend of 11 per cent® and added
$46,000 to the surplus fund, which
are
is
eneine:
$100,000. The bank earned $57,000
i the debi
since the dividend of last May. Its
resources are now over — $4,000,000. | —
This bank stands first on the roll of Make Lighting Contract.
honor among the National banks of A contract was awarded by” the
the United States. {board of public and build-
| ings to the Kellar pike Company of
| Philadelphia at its bid of $13 ;197,-t0
Lydia Risben was acquitted at| connect the capitol lighting plant
Greensburg of the murder of James with the wires supplying current to
Blakeny at Cokeville, on October 16. | the capitol park, new being lighted by
The girl made a plea of scif Zefense, | a private concern. The Ix yard figures
While she was at the home of Mrs. | that a saving of $1,000 a month will
Maude Kauffman, Blakeny called and | he effected.
demanded admittance. When he was FRR
told to go away he battered down the Pronounce Jail Unsanitary.
door. It was brought out in the tes- After inspecting the Kittanning jail
timony that the girl did not sheot un- | "yw Holmes, prison inspector of
Hi Blakeny seized ler throat | the department of charities, pro-
nounced it unfit for the worst crimin-
al ever arrested. He demands changes
to make it sanitary.
is,
Acquits Girl on Self-Defense Plea.
Announcement is made that the
Philadelphia Mining Exchange has
passed out of existence after living a
year. The exchange at one time had
a membership of 57 and during its
lite trading amounted to a little over
two million shares. In recent months
business dwindled to almost nothing.
Seven freight crews on the Chau-
tauqua & Allegheny Valley division
of the Pennsylvania railroad have
been laid off in pursuance of orders
from Philadelphia.
THE OFFICIAL RETURNS
New Record in Revenue.
Estimates made by Auditor Gen-
eral Young indicate that the state
revenues for the current fiscal year, Is 147,228.
which ends November 30, will vierg : ;
to. $26,500,000. The revenues last| ~The state department completed
vear aggregated $25,818,000. | the compilation of the official returns
3 2 = a | of the recent election, for state treas-
{ rer in Pennsylvania. The vote fol-
lows:
Sheatz (Republican), 459.965; Har-
| man (Democrat), 312,737; Stevenson
| (Prohibition), 29,850; Clark (Social
ist), 14,346; scattering, 5; total, 816,-
883. Sheatz's plurality, 147, 228;
| Sheatz's Plurality in Recent Election
After deliberating less than an
hour, the jury at Greensburg, return- |
ed a verdict of guilty in the case of
Antonio and Carlo De Grosse and An-
tonio and Gaetanio Scimia, who were
charged with writing threatening let-
ters to John Albertoletti, a wealthy
Jeannette Italian. | Sheatz’s majority, 103,047.