THE PLACE OF MY DESIRE.
gh many weary years,
I've amar wb Ta ood ro
, Wi in and
The Place of Ly Desire, _
Perhaps they told me wrong,
Perhaps missed the road;
Still with purpose strong
I seek that fair abode.
I see it in my dreams—
ow pleasant, and how fair!
Its towers, with golden gleams,
Shine through the cloudless air
There is no hated task,
‘There only friendships stay:
There are the joys I —.
The year is always May.
© Place of my Desire!
Since but in dreams I take
‘The path that leads me nigher,
, may I never wake!
~Ninette M. Lowater.
—————t tL]
- THE .*. RIVALS
etl @ en
BY ESTHER SERLE KENNETH,
——
IE] HE could not have been
; fairer or sweeter or more
charming, but she might
have been truer. So Sta-
brook said, as he watched
talking to Macclesfield. In her
air there was that indescribable in-
gention to please, and in Macclesfield's
appearance the proof positive of her
success. .
It was mean to be jealous, Stabrook
said, resolutely putting down the
angry impulse that arose within him
as he watched Muriel putting a rose
in his rival’s buttonhole. But he could
mot go away from the sight of her, and
#0 remained, and tore her fan to pieces,
and forgot that he had engaged Miss
Fogarty for the next dance.
At Jength Muriel dismissed Macles-
@leld, and beckoned to him. He came
ap, saying, with an affected smile:
“I thought you wanted to promenade
with me?”
“So I did. Too late? Is this the
second dance? Too bad! Well, I am
_ fired, and glad to go home.”
He led her to the dressing room,
and went to summon the carriage.
Returning, a lady caught his arm.
“Oh, Mr. Stabrook, will you not help
m8? Brother Frank is sick in the
@ressing room, and here are mamma
and I, who cannot find the coachman.”
“Anything in my power, Miss Lester.
f can find your carriage without any
difficulty, I think. Pray wait in the
dressing room until I return.”
‘The young lady was literally torn
from his elbow by the crowd. He
forced his way out into the dizzy night
again, to find Miss Lester's coachman
quite aware that “Brother Frank” was
wery ill, or, in other words, seriously
intoxicated. The young fellow was
simply a brute, and was kept in decent
society only by the power of his
father’s money.
Having seen these ladies to their
carriage, he hastened back to Miss
Muriel.
“Miss Day bid me say that she had
accepted Mr. Macclesfield’s attend-
ance, Mr. Stabrook,” said the young
lady in attendance.
* Too angry to speak, he rushed back
upon the sidewalk, just in time to see
Mariel lean from her carriage window
to bid Macclesfield good-night, and to
hear the wheel grind the curb in turn-
“A month ago she would not have
f@lone that,” he said
‘When he was cooler he said she was
fot sc much to blame, but he viewed
with extreme distaste the whole busy,
gay, flirting world in which he stood.
It boded him harm, he felt in his in-
most soul.
He saw Muriel’'s carriage on the
firive the next morning. Her rose-leaf
face showed no signs of last night's
dissipation, smiling under its gold-
fipped plume. She did not see him,
but just as she turned the corner, Mac-
clesfield, on horseback, rode up to the
side of her phaeton.
+ Very miserable he called on her that
~ evening. She reached out her little
with great sweetness. For an
dour, though the room was full of
: itors, she seemed his own again.
«4+ But she was at the opera with Mac-
. lesfield the next night. True, there
. was no engagement between himself
and Muriel Day, but Stabrook felt this
2a complete dismissal. So far through
‘the season he had been her unques-
fioned escort to the ball and rout.
Now she had not even consulted his
wish. All the sweet, silent converse
that they had held received its death
blow.
He felt this yet more deeply when
ghey met again. She was kind, but
cold. Every unconscious word and
Sook proclaimed a change in her, and
Btabrook, loving her sincerely, turned
from her and gnashed his teeth.
That miserable winter went by. The
flush, the sensation, the fascination of
New York’s gayest season palled and
passed, leaving changed lives and
many miserable hearts.
“You are ill,” said Stabrook’s physi-
cian. “Go into the country for a week
of this fine weather.”
He went to Snowdon, to the old river-
mide hotel there, where he had been so
happy one summer.
- Fate willed it that, in a fortnight,
‘Muriel Day came there with a train of
der new admirers. She must have
Deen a little shocked at the sight of
#Stabrook’s pale face, for he had greatly
changed. She showed & marked un-
easiness in his presence. I think that
. sven then she was far from indiffer-
ent regarding him.
But Macclesfield held her with the
power of a man possessed of various
fascinations. He bad chosen her, he
smeant to have her—and she believed
#hat she loved him, as he meant her to
v
do. The others looked on longingly.
Would he win? So great had become
her popularity that twenty would have
thrown up fame and fortune for her
hand.
Stabrook's physician had prescribed
horseback exercise. By the request
of his hostess he was teaching her
little daughter Helen to ride,
The tractability and sweetness of the
child was a solace to him, and as he
guided her pony through the fragrant
birch woods, some of the dull pain of
his heart passed away.
One morning an addition was pro
posed. Macclesfield and Muriel Day,
proposed to accompany them, and Sta-
brook quietly consented. Why should
he refuse or avoid her company? All
the world knew that she was engaged
to Macclesfield. It was not thought
that he should have any feeling in
the matter,
The four horses pranced lightly
along. The child laughed merrily with
excitement, but Muriel Day was rather
quiet. Perhaps in all her life she had
never leoked more fair and lovable.
Macclesfield rode beside her, and his
proud eyes seemed to say so.
A mile from the hotel they came sud-
denly upon a steep bank of the river,
pink with May anemones.
“They are your favfrite flowers, are
they not, Muriel?” asked Macclesfield,
dismounting, with a smile at her cry of
delight. She watched him go down the
bank, and dropped her rein.
“Oh, let me come, too!” she cried.
“I meant to pick them myself.”
Stabrook sprang to the ground. For
one little instant he held her in his
arms as he lifted her from the saddle.
Then she was away down the green
bank. But that instant was enough to
arouse once more, at its sharpest, all
the mad regret.
He stood watching her as she culled
the blossoms, herself a brighter flower
than they. Suddenly her little foot
tangled in the long habit, she lost her
balance, dropped her flowers, flung up
her hands, and plunged headlong into
the deep, placid stream.
“Great heavens!” cried Macclesfield;
“and I cannot swim!”
He turned to Stabrook and clutched
his arm.
“Save her!”
Stabrook stood like -a statue, watch-
ing the spot where the bright head
had disappeared.
“Save her for you?’ he said, slowly.
But he pulled off his coat, hurried
down the bank, and plunged into the
water.
He disappeared, came up with her,
white and senseless, on his shoulder,
With a great effort he managed to get
ber within Macclesfield’s reach. Al-
most with a sob the strong man
clutched ber to his breast.
Laying her upon the bank, he
stretched to Stabrook a helping hand.
But Stabrook did not take it. Whether
the cold strong tide was too much for
his strength, or whether he voluntarily
embraced death, I do not know; but,
to the horror of his rival, he sank for-
ever below the glassy tide.
Love was but another name for death
to him. Whose the fault was I cannot
say, but his escape from life's pangs
was surely his gain.—New York Week-
1ye
“Rubbing It In.”
When Mrs. Morse, after a lapse of
thirty years, met her old schoolmate,
Mrs. Grabam, in the guise of a summer
visitor to Aldersfield, she made up her
mind to one thing: Lydia Graham's
measure of worldly prosperity had
been large, but not for one moment
would Mary Ann Morse allow her to
feel “set up.”
It was with the intention of reduec-
ing any possible pride that might be
lurking behind Lydia Graham’s placid
countenance that Mrs. Morse held her
off at arm's length when the first af-
fectionate greeting had been ex-
changed.
“How fat you've grown, Lyddy!”
said Mary Ann Morse, holding her lite
tle figure erect as a small, stiff tree.
Mre Graham smiled contentedly, and
Mrs, Morse saw that her thrust had
done no harm.
“And yet—and yet you've wrinkled
in spite of it,”” said this determined old
friend, and then she gave Lydia
Graham's flushed cheek a consoling
kiss,—Youth's Companion,
An All-Incinsive Charity.
The two churches of Coldville were
not on the best terms with each other.
The clergymen were friendly, but a
spirit of-rivalry animated most of the
members, and the two societies seldom
united for any purpose, religious, char-
itable or social.
divs. Harmon, a recent acquisition to
the town, joined the North Church,
where she speedily proved herself val-
uable in many ways.
“She’s got what I call a wonderful
lot of grace,” sald one of the other
members to her husband. “Why, if
vou’ll believe me, William, she seems
to love everybody. ‘Tisn’t only her
friends in the church and the neigh-
bors; she actually speaks as if she felt
real pleasant toward the members of
the South Church. I couldn't get her
to say one single thing against any of
them!”’—Youth's Companion,
Could Not Trust Him,
After a wordy argument in which
neither scored, two Irishmen decided to
fight it out. It was agreed, says the
Washington Post, that when either
said “I've enough” the fight shouid
cease,
After they had been at it about ten
minutes one of them fell and immedi-
ately yelled, “Enough! I've enough!”
But his opponent kept on pounding
him until a man who was watching
them said:
“Why don't you let him up? He
says he's got enough.”
“I know he says so,” said the victor,
between punches, “but he's such a liar
you can't believe a word he says!”
+ THOSE AUTOMOBILES.
Prom end to end of a savage land,
ou any you life in the palm of your
and ;"’
’ ms
But, from side to side of a civilized street,
You must sprint with your soul in
soles of your feet. .
~Life,
WOULD SOON FIND IT.
Howell—*“Are you looking for trou-
ble?”
Powell—“Yes; I am on my way to
the railroad station to meet my wife's
mother.”
AN INDICATION.
“Do you think Biggins will make a
golf player?”
“He has one of the traits,” remarked
the business man.
“A disinclination to stick to work In
the afternoons.”—Washington Star,
HIS QUALIFICATIONS.
“Why are you going to appoint Blank
to that difficult diplomatic post?”
“Because I heard him talking to a
statistics fiend the other day,” said the
politician, “and he never contradicted
him once.”’—Detroit Free Press.
PERFECTLY PERMISSIBLE,
“Yes,” admitted the young man mod.
estly, “I have killed several men, but
always under legitimate circum-
stances.”
“Self-defense, eh?’
“Well, not exactly. It was in football
games.”
WHAT HE WANTED.
Patient—*“Doctor, let me know the
worst at once.”
Doctor — “Oh! there’s no danger,
You'll get well.”
Patient—*I know that. But what's
your hill going to be?’ — Cleveland
Leader.
NOT INTERESTED NOW.
“Do you take any interest in rare
and beautiful books?”
“No,” answered Mr. Cumrox, “I
used to. But now if you subscribe to
an expensive publication people think
you did it to keep something out of
print.”—Washington Star.
AS A PICTURE IS.
“Yes,” said Mr. Goodley, “she made
quite an impression upon me; reminds
me of an old-fashioned picture—-"
“Ah!” interrupted Miss Chellus,
¢you noticed it, then?”
“Noticed what?”
“That she’s painted.” — Philadelphia
Press.
COMPLETELY DISCOURAGED.
“There is no use trying to please peo-
ple,” said Mr. Dustin Stax.
“What is the trouble?”
“If you don’t contribute to campaign
funds they say youre parsimonious,
and if you do they say you're corrupt.”
Washington Star.
FATAL.
“How did your wife come to die?”
“She was taken suddenly sick.”
“Yes?”
“And the neighbors sent for me and
for the doctor.”
“Well?”
“Well, the doctor got there first.”—
Houston Post.
FOOLS SOMETIMES WISE.
“I have always noticed,” remarked
the man who comments on things,
“that wise men are generally the quiet-
est.”
“True,” replied Senator Badger, “al-
though there are times when a fool
knows enough to be silent.”—Milwau-
kee Sentinel.
“" A MATTER OF LOCALITY.
Curious Person—"Does it cost much
to run one of these things?”
Owner of Automobile— Well, on one
or two occasions it has cost me as
high as §25 a minute. It depends on
the town, you happen to be running
in.’—Chicago Tribune,
IMPROBABLE, AT LEAST.
Hewitt—*I want to tell you about an
adventure I had, last night.”
Jewett—*Is this a true story?”
Hewitt—‘‘Sure.”
| Jewett—‘“Then go ahead.”
Hewitt—“I stopped to pay a bill,
and—"
Jewett—*“I thought you said it was a
true story.”—From Judge.
SAFE BET.
Mrs. Jawback—*Get right away from
here, you nasty tramp, or I'll call my
husband.”
Oliver Mudd—“G'wan!
ain’t at home.”
Mrs. Jawback—“How do you know?”
Oliver Mudd—*"Husbands of women
like you never are at home, "cept for
meals.”—Cleveland Leader,
Yer husban’
UP-TO-DATE HONESTY,
“And now, my son,” said the bank
president, ‘‘on this, the threshold of
your business life, I desire to impress
lone thought upon you. Honesty, ever
‘and always, is the policy that is best.”
“Yes, father,” said the young man.
“And, by the way,” appended the grag-
beard, “I would urge you to read up a
little corporation law. It will amaze
you to find how many things you can
do in a business way and still be hon-
est.
his listener's feelings.
RICH MAN'S HOBBY IS HORSES.
New Yorker's Enthusiasm Far Above
the Ordinary.
F. Ambrose Clark, stepson of Bishop
Potter and an enthusiastic patron of
steeplechasing and hunting, for sev.
eral seasons has aroused the interest
of New York racegoers as much by
the disregard he seems to have for his
neck and bones as for the fair amount
of success he has had in riding In
open steeplechases. The field-stand
idea of Mr. Clark was epitomized at
Belmont Park, where the amateur
jockey got a bad fall just before the
field stand from his horse The Bow-
ery, when a spectator, probably from
the Bowery, remarked, “Just t'ink of
him doin’ dat and him wort fifteen
million bones.”
The fall brought to the surface ex-
act measurement of Mr. Clark’s en-
thusiasm, for when he found his
horse was lame after he caught and
remounted him, and he could not go
on in the race, the “gentleman jock”
walked off to the jockeys’ quarters,
tenderly rubbing his shoulder. A
friend asked if he had been hurt in the
fall, and Mr. Clark responded that he
was not sure, but his shoulder felt
queer. The friend suggested exami-
nation to see how serious the injury
might be, and Mr. Clark indorsed the
plan at once by exclaiming, “That's it,
send for a vet.” Another suggestion
that a surgeon might be better failed,
however, and it was a horse doctor
who conducted the examination, which
assured the cross-country rider that
his bones were intact.
A fall at Morris Park a week ago
put Mr. Clark out of the running with
a broken collarbone, but he has been
as constant as ever in his attendance
at the steeplechase races there, with
undiminished enthusiasm.
WHY HE DIDN'T KNOW PATIENT
Had Forgotten How Sickness
Changes the Appearance.
“Is it possible you don’t remember
me?” said the healthy, happy-looking
young matron as she stepped up to Dr.
Henry Russell, who was alighting from
his carriage in front of a patient's
door. There was a shade of annoy-
ance on the woman's face as she
spoke, mingled with a look of grati-
tude: “And to think,” she continued
half reproachfully, “you were the one
who operated on me for appendicitis.
made me take that horrid ether and
called every day to ask the other doc-
tor how I was getting along—and still,
vou don't know me when you see me
on the street. This is the third time
[ have met you and you never even
condescenaed to bow.”
The doctor apologized and said:
“Really, I have the best reason in the
world for not knowing you. To be
sure I performed the operation, but
that was the only time I saw you. Do
you realize that a patient in bed,
wasted by illness, looks very different
from the recovered patient on the
street? I knew that your eyes and
hair are dark, but that’s absolutely the
only description I could give of you.
1 did not know whether you were a
tall or a short woman. I did not
know whether you were naturally a
plump or a slight woman. Neither did
I know whether you were a vivacious
or a phlegmatic sort of person. You
must remember that a doctor who has
seen you only once or twice in illness
has never seen the real you, but only
a shadow of yourself.”—New York
Press.
She
The Only Explanation.
One well known New York woman
has discovered, like some others of
her sex, that it does not pay to be too
curious. One of the old family re-
tainers is a Scotchman named Wil-
liam, who does not believe in glossing
over the truth for the sake of sparing
The woman in
question, * although possessed of con-
siderable charm of manner, is not a
beauty and knows it. Her husband,
recently deceased, was a remarkably
handsome man, and his wife was one
of his sincerest admirers. One day
when she was looking at her hus-
band's picture on the mantel in the
sitting room William was fussing
around the grate and in a moment of
impulse she asked:
“William, what do you think made
such a handsome man as Col. S. marry
such a plain woman as me?”
William looked from the portrait to
the speaker, meditated a second, and
answered:
“Must have been God's will, ma'am.”
Mother Love.
He was deformed and ill, I know;
From birth, poor lad, he had been so;
1 always dressed him, but one day
A gentle friend led me away.
A little while, she whispered, “Now,
Let us go in, dear, and see how—
How nice he looks.” I looked at him
In broidered white—my eyes grew dim.
To weep for him, they said, was wrong;
That he would never have been strong.
But always ailing, frail and weak;
I listened, patient, crushed, and meek.
And answered not until the word,
‘“*A burden,” I distinctly heard;
At that my throbbing mother breast,
Where once those wee, pale lips had
pressed.
Revolted—I cried out, ‘No, no;
Say. if you will, "tis better so,
A thousand times and more, but I,
His mother, dares that charge deny.”
My other children standing near
Are beautiful, beloved, and dear;
But him, by sacred, strange enthrall,
I loved the best, the best of all.
—Kathleen Kavanagh in New Orleans
Picayune,
Didn't Work.
Mr. Cleverly—I have a great joke on
my wife. I've just bought her a hat
for $5, and had it sent home with a
$15 price mark on it. She'll never
know the difference!
Mrs. Cleverly (later)—Harold, dear,
[ guess I would better buy my own
hats after this. I could have done a
good deal better for $15. You've been
awfully cheated. Why, I saw this
very same hat in the window with a
$5 mark-on-it.—Detroit Free Press.
SPORTING BREVITIES,
An automobile speedway is planned
fn Nassau County, near Garden City,
LI
An important merger of agencies for
three foreign automobiles was ans
nounced,
Automob!' ts want cylinder dis.
placement made the basis of speed
competition,
Yale and the New York A. C. played
a tle game of hockey, the score being
five goals each,
John T. Brush has been re-elected
president of the New York National
League Baseball Club.
C. EB. White defeated Albert Seidean-
berg in the class B amateur billiard
tournament in New York,
The Brooklyn Baseball Club traded
James Sheckard, outfielder, to Chicago
In exchange for four players,
Harry Pulliam was re-elected Presi.
dent of the National Baseball League
by a vote of six clubs to two.
De Witt Clinton High School de-
athletic meet by 75 to 32 points.
Nine colleges have accepted the invi-
tation of New York University to at-
tend a football conference in New York
City.
At the meeting of the Fencers' Club
of New York City a piece of plate was
presented to the retiring tutor, Vau-
thier.
More than a score of turf outlaws
were expelled by the Board of Review
for “ringing” trotters in the harness
racing campaign of 1905,
Members of the self-appointed Inter.
collegiate Rules Committee want offi.
cial sanction as representatives from
the universities to which they belong.
It has been decided by the directors
of the Saratoga Racing Association to
maintain the Great Republic Stake,
which for mext year will have $10,000
added, and for 1207 will be a guaran-
teed stake of $20,000.
NEWSY GLEANINGS,
A Chicago clergyman performed a
marriage service in nine seconds.
The MNBlson statue in Trafalgar
Square, London, Eng., is decaying.
Cape Town authorities are extend-
Ing the conveyance of mails by camels.
Work has begun on the railroad
which will carry passengers to the top
of Mont Blanc.
Three hundred hairdressers’ shops in
Madrid, Spain, were closed owing to a
strike of the assistants,
A Long Island City lawyer who de-
frauded a client has been sent to Sing
Sing Prison for seven years.
At Kingfisher, O. T., Judge Irwin on
the same day granted a divorce to a
white, a negro and an Indian.
Two highwaymen, mounted on bi-
eycles, have been sandbagging citizens
with much success in San Francisco
suburbs.
“Friends of the Elephant” is the title
of a society just formed in Paris to
combat the gradual extinction of the
animal by hunters.
For shaving a customer with a razor
that had not been disinfected a barber
at Eisenach, Germany, has been sent
to prison for a month.
Seven young Chinese sent by their
government to learn the making of
guns. rifles and ammunition arrived
in London the other day.
California’s Japanese and Korean
Exclusion League has about made up
its mind that the bill it sent to Wash-
ington, D. C., will be killed in com-
mittee.
The Britich Commissioner of Ugan-
da. Africa, reports that the natives are
adopting clothing, have taken to the
use of soaps and scents, and are even
using bicycles.
The British naval officers who helped
entertain the French fleet recently at
Portsmouth expected to receive crosses
from the French Government, but they
received only souvenir paper knives.
FROZEN PEACH PUDDING.
Take pint of cream twelve yolks of
eggs. half pound of sugar, and a lit-
tle grated lemon. Beat this mixture
in kettle standing in hot water. When
starts to get thick take out of water
and beat on in the same kettle. When
cold add one pint of puree of fresh
peaches and one pint whipped cream.
Mix easy and fill in moulds with
cover. Pack the moulds in ice with
ice cream salt well, and freeze four
hours. Dip mould in hot water and
turn pudding out quickly in deep dish
filled with whipped cream. Mix with
powdered sugar. You can also decor-
ate nudding.
CELERY SALAD WITH NUTS.
Use equal parts of celery and Eng-
lish walnuts, and serve on lettuce
leaves. When ready to serve pour
over the following dressing: Yolk of
two eggs, beaten lightly, one-half tea-
spoonful each of mustard and salt,
beaten constantly, four tablespoonfuls
melted butter, six tablespoonfuls
vinegar. Cook in a double kettle until
it thickens. When removed from the
fire add the well beaten whites. Be-
fore serving add cup of whipped
cream.
Pennsylvania Railroad.
In effect May 29, 1904.
Main Line.
Leave Cresson—Eastward.
Sea Shore Express, week days.......... 62am
Harrisburg Express, oz Sun.) . 926am
Main Line Express, ily... 110lam
Philadelphia Accom. S 1253 pm
Day Express... 287 pm
Mail Express, d. 591pm
Fastern Express. S8llpm
sSundays......... . .1367pm
Leave Cresson—Westward,
Sheridan Accom., week days. 810am
Pacific Express, daily 32am
Way Passenger, dally 16pm
Fifisbury £% Tes. 867pm
Chicago Special . 44pm
Pittsburg Acco! . 4583pm
Sheridan Accom., week days. Y07pm
Main Line, daily......cerevoneen . 76pm
Cambria & Clearfield Division.
In effect May 29, 1904.
Leave Patton—Southward.
Train No. 703 at 6:50 a. m. arriving at Cresson
at 7:50 a. m.
Train No 709 at 3:38 p. m. arriving at Oreason
at 4:25 p* m.
Leave Patton—Northward.
Train No, 704 at 10:47 a. m. arriving at Me
Jafley ot 148 a. m. and at Glen Campbell at
1 om
Trin No' 708 at 6:07 p. m.
feated Morris High School in a dual
—
NEWYOR
ENTRAL
& HUDSON RIVER R. R.
(Pennsylvania Division.)
Beech Creek District.
Condensed Time Table.
oy Read do
Xp Man June 10, 1004 Fp
No3" No No 30 No
pm P m am k
920 100ar tton lv 1810
MW 1D estover 86
1% Arcadia
880 100ar Maha fey Iv 100
12288 1v Kerrmoor r
121 Gazzam
g 1213ar errmoor v1
1207 Yew Millport T84
45 1201 Olanta 740
87 11 54 Mitchells 746
01123 Clearfield 5
6385 1087 Woodland 845
024 10 3 Wallaceton [1]
615 10 Morrisdale Mines 907
4 10%5!1v Munson ar 915
b os Iv Philipsburg ard ss
625 1045ar * lv 860
600 1020 ar Munson ive IR
556 1015 Winburne #3
582 9 2 Peale 043 ¢
513 § @illintown 1001
504 in Snow Shoe 10 08
406 833 th Greek 10
853 881 Mill Hall 11
345 813 Lock Haven 1X
826 760 Oak Grove 1183
818 740 Jersey Shore 1146
240 ¥7101v Williamsport arl220
pm am Pm pm
pm am Phil'a & Reading RR m
225 650 ar Willinmsport 1v £12 20+11
18 36°11 80 lv Philadelphia ar 730 6
m pm PM am
00 lv N Y via Tamaqua ar 940
30 §780lv NY via Phila ar 1040 ba
Am pm pm a
11 00
*Dally. tWeek days. {7 p m Sunday.
+m Suaday rp :
Connections—At Williamsport with Phila
delphia and Reading Railway; at Jersey Sho!
with the Fall Brook District; at Mill Hal
with Central Railroad of Pennsylvania; a
Philipsburg with Pennsylvania railroad an
NY and P CR R; at Clearficld with the B;
falo, Rochester and Pittsburg railway; at
haffey and Patton with €ambria and Clearfiel
division of the Pennsyvania railroad; at
haffey with the Pennsylvania and No
western railway.
(300. H, Daniels, W. H. Northrup,
Gen. Pass. Agt., Gen, Agent,
New York, Williamsport,
J. P. Bradfield, uen’] Supt., New York.
Pittsburg, Johnstown, Hbens-
burg & Eastern
R.R.
Condensed Time Table in effect June §, Mil
ILeaving Ramey.
SEs
Esl sansys
pm p
452
508
808
587 &
543
38
em pm pm PM
1205 !
1214
1218 123% 6
1230 103 $
184
188 v
pm pm Pp
200
314
1230 283
1242 245
$60
- 800
Connections—At Phili pebnIp(aion Stal
with Beech Creek rallroad trains for and
Bellefonte, Locx Haven, Willlamsport,
ing, Philadelpuia and New York, Lawrenese
ville, Corning, Watkins, Geneva and Lyo
Clearfield, Mahaffey and Patton; Curwensvii
Dubois, Punxsutawney, ilidgway, Bradfo!
Buffalo and Rochester-
Connections at Osceola Mills with Houtm
dale and Ramey with P R R train leaving
Tyrone at 7:20 p. m.
For full information apply to
J. O. REED, Superintendent.
Philadelphia &
Reading Railway,
Engines Burn Hard OCoal—No Smokes
IN EFFECT MAY 15, 1004.
Trains Leave Williamsport From Depot, Fool
of Pine Street.
For New York via Philadelphia 7:80, 10 a. ng,
1220, 600, 1130 p. m. Sunday 10:0 a. m)
a . 1.
For New York via Faston 10 a. m., 12.20
noon, Sundays 10 a. m.
For Philadelphia, Reading, Tamaqua, ox
banoy City, Ashland and all points in S¢ha
kill coal region 7:30, 10 a. m., 12:29, ¢ and 1
Pp. m. Bundays 10a. m,, 11:30 p. m.
Trains for Willlamsport:
Leave New York via Easton 4, 0:10a. nay
1:20 p. m. Sundays 4:25a. m. and 1 p. m.
Leave New York via Philadelphia 12:15, 4:
8:00, a. m., 2:00 and 7:00 L m. Sundays 12:18
m., 4:25a m, 12:00and 9 p. m.
Leave Philadelphia, Reading Terminal,
& m-, 8:36 and 10:20 a. m., and 4:35 p. m., an
11:30 p. m, Sundays 4, 9:00 a. m,, 4:06 p.
and | :80 P: m. i
rough coaches and parlor cars to and fro
Priladelph is and New York: -
ckets can be procured in Williamsport
the City ticket office and at the depot, Hoot
Pine Street.
Baggage checked from hotels and residences
direct to destination.
EDSON J. WEEKS,
A. T. DICE,
General Superintendent.
Reading Terminal, Philadel phis, dd
'arlor Cars on all express trains.
all
Huntingdon & Broad Top Mt.
Railroad.
In effect Sept. 7, 1903.
Bouthward.
Train No. 1 (Express) leaves Huntingd
every day except Sunday) for Mt. Dallas =
:35 a. m., arriving at Mt. Dallas at 10:20 a. ma,
Train No. 3,(Mail) leaves Huntingdon (everg®
day except Sunday) for Mt. Dallas at 5:55 p.m.
arriving at Mt. Dallas at 7:30 p. m.
Tratn No. 7, (Sundays only) leaves Hunt
don for Mt. Dallas at 8:35 a.m., arriving at
Dallas at 10:05 a. m.
Aa-All trains make connections at Mt, Dab
las for Bedford, Pa., and Cumberland, Md.
Northward.
Train No. 4 (Mail) leaves Mt. Dallas (every
day except Sunday) for Huntingdon at 8:
a. In, arriving at Huntingdon at 11:10 a, m.
Train No. 2 (Fast Line) leaves Mt. Dallas
{oxery day except Sunday) for Huntingdon a$
:40 p. m,, arriving at Huntingdon at 5:15p. m
Traip No. 8, (Sundays only) leaves Mt. Dal
las for Huntingdon at 4:00 p. m., arriving as
5:30 p. m,
All trains make close connections with
R. R. both east and west at Huntingdon.
CARL M. GAGE,
General Manager
According to Dorothy.
Dorothy is a swe>t little maid of
two and a half. Her father never car-
ries a cane, and when a caller came
in with one, cne day, she Was ob-
served standing before it rapt in con-
templation.
“Well, Dorothy,”
“what’s that?”
Dorothy looked up with a puzzled
said her mother,
expression. “Umbwella wivout any
clothes on,” faid she.—Lippincott's
Magazine
.
General Passenger Agent. ony
rr
hdon
t rei
as the
other ¢
ting, as
the wo
less abl
egg fro
man w
" ARid si:
in the
steppes
sands
shops
element
tion of
the hou
The 3
ble suj
hours’ «
adwmitte
the trad
luxury
laid” cs
in the
Irish mw
things |
from tI
pantom
ter hoy
the egg
Why
of pack
tieth c
main u
culture,
and cou
mildly,
Every
food w
now mo
to resis
decay—
corked
frozen «
alone, 1
must gi
for if i
ive ves
as stale
THE 1]
The s
pact co
indicate
titude ¢
seen th
sieve-lil
ated wl
ing is ¢
the life
hatched
“By 1
Mr. Ed
Reading
evapora
is laid t
oration
under v
ing mu
than in
in cool.
evapora
and no
istic na
egg rel
great Ie
used to
not be
ble to b
In ea
the rail
enormo!
practice
general
a simpl
the far
lightly
still hof
tered e;
cooking
lowest |
In the
buy eg
old in
and pro
qualitie
milky 1
white f
glowing
vantage
tural bc
and po
county,
at any
I know
Nobod
of “but
consum:
holder |
British
knows f
sense ¢
fresh Ww
but will
Ten y
Board 1
up a scl
ing pou
the Wes
ing my
mercial
tente” |
holder «
prosper:
I dul
within :
ing offic
“Eggs
markets
"buy the
in mak
which a
Well,
ter. 1
gested |