LITTLE BOBBY'S FOURTH. I
T mast hov boa 'bout four o'clock when little
Bobby woko
*N flrod thom tarnal crackers off, until it
warn't no Joke
Er wakln everybody up 'a sboutla out In joy,
Till little Bobby's pa he said ho guessed he'd ,
fU that boy.
But lordyl yer might Jest ca well hov tried ter
stop er oloud,
•Cua that air little feller he wua wild, we all ;
allowed.
Bo his pa sea, "Well, Fourth July comes only
onct," sea he,
"Ln every yoar," 'n so ho guessed he'd let ther
youngster be.
orockyl but the nolso ho made er flrln off
them things,
*N all day long we set 'u heard them blngs and
bings and blngsl
'N little Bobby's ma wua scared, 'n she scd:
"Dear me BUZ!
He'll blow hisself up. Such a boy l'in sure
thar never wuzl"
But his pa sea, "You lot him be;" 'n so until
that night
Tho little feller kep it up—ther back yard wuz 1
a sight.
*K then we hed some pin wheels 'n some rockets
*n Qreek Are,
Miagara Falls'n candles, till that boy began
ter tire,
*Cuz he got sleepy. Then sez he, his big brown
eyes er blinks
"Say, pa, I wanter ask yer 'bout terday, 'n
what yer think;
Does they hov fireworks up in heaven liko wo
hed torday?
*Cuz If they do 1 guess I liko tor go thar right
away."
TOM MASSON.
THE MATCHMAKERS.
A STORY OP LOVE AND FIREWORKS BY
CHRISTINE ORIFFIN.
ICopFTlsht, 1803, by American Press Associa
tion.!
fIZZ, bing, bung!
Boom, boom,
boom! All
through the night
and all through
the day. Will It
ever stop? Per
haps it wouldn't
be so bad if one's
thoughts were
happy, but when
they are not it is
just awful.
Bab leans ont
of the library
window and lifts her flushed face to the
light breeze that aweeps by.
Things are going all wrong with her.
They have been going wrong ever since
Mr. Archibald Jones has seen fit to de
vote himself to her with a persistency
that has driven away all the other men.
To be sure she rather liked him at
first He has horses to take her driving
with and plenty of money and leisure
time to spond with her at the theater,
lawn tennis parties and all the other !
good things that come along through
the seasons, and at a dance especially no
acquits himself very creditably in spite
of his extreme thinness and extreme
height.
"If he only would talk about some
thing or somobody besides himself," Bah
sold once reflectively.
She was trying on a love of a new
bonnet at the time—touching its loops
of ribbon lightly and twisting her head
from one side to the other to get the ef
fect in her miror; so that very naturally
the sight of her own loveliness brought
to £er mind a pardonable wonder why
he did not occasionally vary his egotis
tical themes by a little wholesome praise
of herself.
Bab was a little amused at his com
In the beginning, but as she sees mure
of him, night after night, week after
week, and the chances of the final recital
of his remarkable existence grow more
and more remote, she begins to fiud it
very wearisome, and catches herself
more than once looking back with long
ing to the time when Mr. Archibald Jones
was not—the dear old life when she had
found so sweet a happiness in the words
and glances of another man, a man who
rarely in these later days comes to her
at aIL
Beyond a doubt it is some thought of
him that brings that pathetic light to
her eyes and that tender little smile to
her lips this July morning as she leans
against the window frame with careless,
dreamy abandonment, her fingers wan
dering restlessly through the soft, loose
looks of hair upon her temples.
Things happen just right sometimes,
even outside tho pages of a story book,
and It is certainly n very happy coinci
dence that at this moment a tall young
man Bhould come quietly around the
corner of the house, and looking up see
the girl and her smile.
Bab is all in a flutter as soon as she
tees him.
"Why, ilr. Brayton," she cries, with
an exolted, brokon little laugh, "where
did you come from? I—oh, I'm awfully
glad to see yon."
She flnshes prettily as he steps across
the grass plat that lies between them.
He takes tho pretty white hand extend
ed to him in his own sun tanned palm
and perhaps he holds it there a trifle
longer and Just a trifle tighter than
would be prescribed by the etiquette of
polite society.
"I don't believe you're half as glad
as 1 am to see you, MiBS Barbara,"
he says, and his voice Is a very good
voloe to listen to with its deep, mellow
tones. "I never have any luck with
you nowadays. No matter when I come
you are sure to be out or just going.
It is really a pity that you are so pop
ular."
Bab laughs. She looks a trifle self
oonsoious, as she smooths out the folds
of her morning gown.
"Oh, but I'm not," she declares; "truly,
I'm not Aren't you coming In? Do."
But he Bhakes his head.
"Thanks. Can't possibly. I must be
in town by 11, and it is quarter of
now. I was riding past on my wheel
and thought I'd just run in to ask if
you'd enjoy going to the top of the
Waverly tonight to seo tho fireworks.
I believe there ■ to be quite a display."
Bab flushes up to the soft unruly
waves of gold brown hair upon her fore
head. She looks down intently at the
handkerchief that sho is twisting anil un
twisting between the tips of her fingers.
Fato again. Mr. Archibald Jones has
already asked her tho same question and
for tho sako of escaping a tiresome tete
a-teto sho has declared hor intention of
staying at home and enjoying tho fow
illuminations that have been purchased
for the children.
"I'm so sorry," she says, not very
steadily because of some omotion thut
makes her heart throb furiously, "aw
fully sorry. It's too bad, but I have had
to refuso one invitation like yours al
ready, because I—we aro going to have a
fow rockets and things on the lawn and
tho children want me to stay with them.
Won't you—couldn't you come here,
Mr. Braytou? I can't promise you much
of a treat," she adds, laughing a little
nervously as sho thinks of the other one,
who is coming on his own invitation.
"I don't suppose it'll be very exciting,
but you don't know how glud I should
bo if you would come."
Then she lifts hor eyes and looks at
him. They are such lovely eyes, so blue
and tender and wistful. He BOCS the
wistfulness, to bo sure, but whether it is
meant for him or the other man who
has invited her, ho cannot telL Men are
so stupid about these things. Whon
there is any doubt of this kind to bo con
sidered they usually give the benefit of
it to the other man.
"Thanks," ho says again, but a little
chill of resorve has crept into his voice
now and frozen all tho genial warmth
out of it. "Ever so kind of you. Per
haps 1 wilL I won't promise. Then you
can't expect mo and bo disappointed if
I don't appear."
The words end in a decidodly curt
laugh, us he steps out into the path
again. An innocent looking torpedo
gleams whito against tho red gravel at
his feet. He stoops down, picks it up
and flings it against the stonework of
the steps. Perhaps its sharp report
serves as a vent for his turbulent
thoughts. Then he looks back at the
girl, and their eyes meet for an instant
—a single glance, incomprehensible to
both.
"Goodby, and allow mo to wish you a
very pleasant evening, Miss Barbara."
A pleasant eveningl Poor Bab. She
drops down in a littlo heap on the divun
as ho disuppoars, and buries hor face in
the depths of a big Bilk pillow. What
is the uso of trying to be happy any
; more? What is the use? He doesn't
; care for her—he nsver will care now.
That hateful J ones is like a grinning
skeleton, putting himself always be
i tween her and her one love. Oh, dear—
The thought ends in a long sigh.
1 "You come over to my house first,
Dolly."
"No, you come over here. That'll bo
nicest. We're goin to have eight rock
ets—maybe more—l dunno."
J "So're we."
I "An a whole lot of flies—red an blue
an green."
"So're we."
"Goody, goody, goodyl Ain't it fun?
I think Fourth o' July's uicer'n all the
days in the year 'cept Christmas, don't
you, Ducky?"
"Coarse I do."
' A series of happy little giggles and
the voices grow fainter as the children
; pass the window and go around the
house. Bab drags herself up aguin anil
I looks out through the bright sunshine,
her eyes full of longing. If sho could
only be a child again and crave no
greater happiness than the Fourth of
July celebration. If there were only no
such things as men and heartaches.
As the long day wears itself out and
twilight settles down she becomes more
and more restless. One question whirls
through her mind again and again and
routs all other thoughts. Will ho come?
That Mr. Archibald Jones will be prompt
in arriving she does not doubt. He is
always on hand with patient persistency,
and no coolness of manner or scornful
words could ever affect him to tho point
of keeping him away.
THEN HE LOOKS BACK AT THE GIRL.
Thore is really something delightful
to study in his imperturbable self es
teem, or, that is, ho might bo a marvel
to a disinterested outsider. To Bab he
is a bore. Nevertheless she greets him
with a winning smile as ho crosses tho
lawn and joins the family group. The
older boys aro busy arranging the rock
ets and planning for the most advan
tageous places for the colored fires, and
a small army of children are making
the air hideous with their excited
Bcrcams over the sputtering of firecrack
ers.
"Well, well," says Mr. Jones with an
appreciative Bmlle, "this iB downright
jolly. 1 really think, Miss Austin, you
were wise to stay at home. Can I sit
here on this rug \>eside you? No, no, 1
don't want a chair. This is ever so
much nicer."
Mr. Jones looks at her with approval.
It is not so dark yet but that he can see
how very becomingly she is dressed. It
seems to him that he has never ssen her
look so sweet and dainty before, and all
unconscious of the irony of Fate, he i
?lacidly congratulates himself on the
act that it is all intended for him.
J "Perfect night." he says, throwing his
head back to peer up through the trees, j
There is not a cloud in the sky, and al
ready in the far distance the stars are
beginning to glimmer faintly. "Do you j
remember, Miss Austin, how we went
to the lake a year ago and got caught in
a drenching rain? Awful, wasn't it?
That was the timo, 1 believe, when 1
was lucky enough to have an umbrella, !
and just on account of it succeeded in
cutting out another man. 1 really be
lieve you would have gone homo with
him if it hadn't been for that umbrella.
I am treasuring it yet—it saved the day
for mo."
He laughs with unquestionable pleas
ure at the recollection, but Bab bites her
lip and turns her face away. Sho has be-
TWO FIGURES UPON THE POROT.
come suddenly interested in the lighting
of the Chinese lanterns that have been |
strung between the trees. That awful
dayl It had been the beginning of all
her misery. Why did he speak of it
and bring to her its hood of bittersweet
momorios?
Mr. Archibald Jones is not at all con
scious of having said the wrong thing.
An entirely different train of thought has
already taken possession of him. He,
too, has become interested in the lighting
up process.
"l wonder now if I couldn't help those
boys? Will you excuse mo, Miss Austin,
! and—or—let mo go and offer my assist
ance? I'vo had such a lot of experience
with those things, don't you know."
Bab nods gratefully. "Do," she says;
"it would be ever BO kind of you, and
J while you are busy I'll just run to the
houso for my shawl. It is growing
chilly."
! Bab looks on for a minute, then goes
off across the grass, a little song on her
lips. It is not too late yet for his com
ing. She will be happy until there is no
more hope.
It is very dark by the house as she
stops out onto the piazza somo few min
j utes later. All the light seems concen
trated on the front lawn, where the fire- )
: works are being placed. Now and thon
a lot of sputtering agninst metal and a
chorus of boys' howls of delight indi
cate the explosion of a pack of crackers
under a tin pan.
Bab stands still at the railing for a
i moment to watch listlessly. She is in
no hurry to go down to join the group
under the trees agnin. Ho is so tiresome
j —that fellow, and Guy—ah, Guyl
Two shrill piping voices come up to
her from the grass just across the path.
Dolly and Ducky are sitting under tho
big maple tree curled up together on n
j shawl, having a little confidential.
I "Well, 1 guess 1 know better,"
Ducky's voice. "My sister Mame, sho
says a girl wouldn't let a feller tag
after her so if she didn't like him lots
She thinks your sister means to marry
him—so there, now, Dolly Austin."
"Humph, well sho needn't, then. Tho
; idea—the ve-ry ideal"
j Dolly is getting excited. She talks
very fast and not very low. Something
makes Bab shiver in her thin gown, but
she only draws her whito shawl closer
around her and stands very still. Right
there, leaning against the veranda in
the shade of tho vines, could sho but
have known it, so near that his out
stretched hand could touch hers if he
had tried, stands, also very silently, a
! tall young man. Ho has not meant to
play the part of an eavesdropper, but
! this childish chatter is amusing. It
may prove instructive.
! "I)o you s'pose I'd ever have that old
skinny Jones for a brother—him"— The
| emphasis is most emphatio. It makes
Qep smile, "an do/oo s'pose for a single
minute, Ducky Arnold, that Bab wants
me to have him? Well, I guess 1 know
a thing or two 'bont that. What'd she
want to cry for the othor night when
that old Jones asked her to go to the
lawn party and that awful nice Mr.
Guy Brayton came and asked the same
thing when it was too late?
"An what does she cry for most ev'ry
night? It's cuz he don't come eny more.
1 hear hor, but when 1 ask her what's
the matter she says, 'Oh, my head aches
—go to sleep—don't bother me.' Humph,
should think hor head would ache. An
wait'll I tell you somethin else—only
don't you dare to breatho it to a soul.
Land I she'd bo just wild if she knew 1
knew 'bout it. Woll, the othor mornin
foro she waked up 1 saw the end of a
picture stickin out from under her pil
low, and when I peeked at it whose do
you s'poso it was? Guess."
Bab brings her white teeth down rath
er sharply over her under lip. She kicks
the toe of her pretty slipper restlessly
against the edgo of the step. Tomorrow
She will give this small sistor a little
pieco of her mind, but tonight—well,
What is the use of making a scene to
night? Everything is said now that can
be said, and what is worse it is all true.
She actually comes quietly down a step
to catoh Ducky's answer.
I "Mister Jones?" Ducky's voice is faint
and a little doubtful, but her words win
a storm of scorn.
"Mister Jones—Jones—Baldy Jones?
Wliyee, Ducky Arnold—well I guess it
wasn't. Don't 1 tell you my sister Bab's
dead gone on that handsome other one.
Guy—what's his name? Course she is.
So'm I. But Td like to know where she
keeps that picture daytimes. 1 never
saw it before."
Their voices flutter off into a little
giggle as tlioy riso to run away undor
the trees. The fun is commencing. The
boys are sending up a Bhower of Roman
candles.
Bab gives an involuntary sigh.
"Oh, dear," she says; "oh, dear me."
And then such a strange thing hap
pons. Soinobody comes up the steps two
at a time. Somebody's hand is laid over
hers as it rosta on the railing. Some
body's dear voico speaks.
"Is it true?" ho asks a little huskily.
I "Is it true, Bab, darling? 1 conldn't help
I hearing. Do you caro for mo? 1 love
i you so. I have a right to know."
[ But Bab doesn't say anything after
i that ono half Btartled "ohl" What she
does is quite as expressive as words.
I When he slips liis arm around her she
1 lots it stay there and lifts her pretty
j face confidingly up against his own.
j Fizz, sizz, whizzl A long, fiery tailed
j rocket shoots into the air and a groat
mass of red light flares up through the
darkness, illuminating everything with
j its soft radiance.
Especially prominent for a moment
j are those two figures upon the poroh,
! and most especially prominent is the tall
j young man's right arm, where it is
thrown around the white shawl,
j Vet in the excitement of looking for
j the next display no one sees the little
tableau except one man, and as the
J lightifades out he turns in his leisurely
J walk up the path toward the house and
j goes back—this time straight to the
stroet and cityward.
A Gentle Reminder.
Young Mr. Tutter was calling on Miss
Pinkerly on the eve of the Fourth, and
naturally his eloquence turned in the
direction of firoworks. "It needs but
one touch of your gentle hand, Miss
Clara," he said, "to send me soaring to
the zenith like a gorgeous rocket."
"That's true, Mr. Tutter," replied Miss
Clara; "but you mustn't forget that,
like a rocket, yon get to be a stick in the
end."
OUT OF SIGHT.
First Bockot—How aro you fooling,
old man?
Second Rocket—'Way up.
TEXTS FOR THE FOURTH.
American patriotism must bo a house
hold virtue.—Henry Ward Beecher.
One flag, ono land, one heart, one hand.
One nation evermore.
—Oliver Wendell Holrnea.
Let us have peace.—D. S. Grant. May
20,1888.
Love of country Is the first principle
of true manhood.—James A. Garfield.
Our countryl In her intercourse with
foreign nations may she always be in
the right, but our country, right or I
wrong.—Stephen Decatur.
They love their land because It Is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon his
throne
And think It kindness to his majesty.
—Fitz-Greono Hallcck.
Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to !
be pmchased at the price of chains and ,
Slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God I 1
:now not what course others may take,
but as for me, give me liberty or give •
me death.—Patrick Henry, March 28. j
1775.
This nation has dissolved, but in tears
only. It stands, four square, more solid i
today than any pyramid in Egypt. This
people aro neither wasted nor daunted
nor disordered. The government is
made stronger.—Henry Ward Beecher.
God grants liberty only to those who
love it and aro always ready to guard
and defend it—Daniel Webster.
In the beauty of the lllica Christ was born ,
across the sea.
With a glory in hla bosom that transfigures
you and me.
As he died to mako men holy, let us illc to
make men free—
While God Is marching on.
—Julia Ward llowo.
As It Used to Re.
The following song was published some
years ago. It was written by the late
Royal Tyler, formerly chief judge of
i the supreme court of Vermont. He was
the author of "The Algerine Captive," a
novel which was popular over half a
century ago:
Squeak the fife anil beat the drum.
Independence Day is cornel
Let tho roasting pig be bled,
Quick, twist off the cockerel's head;
Quickly rub tho pewter platter.
Heap the nutcako fried in butter;
Sot tho cups and beaker glass,
Tho pumpkin and tho apple suuee.
Send the keg to shop for brandy.
Maple sugar we havo handy;
Independent, staggering Dick,
A noggin mix of swiggering thick;
Sal, put on your russet skirt—
Jotham, get your boughten shirt.
Today wo dance to tiddlo diddle,
Ilere comes Sambo with his fiddle.
Sambo, take a dram of whisky
And play up "Yankee Doodle" frisky;
Moll, come lenve your witched tricks
And let us have a reel of six.
Father and mother shall mako two,
Sal, Moll and 1 stand all a-row;
Sambo, play the danco with quality.
This is the day of blest equality.
Father and mother are but men,
And Sambo is a citizen.
Come, foot it Sal—Moll, figure in,
And mother, you dance up to him;
Now saw as fast as you can do.
And father you cross o'er to Sambo.
Thus wo dnnce, and thus we play.
On glorious Independence Day.
Timely Thoughts.
Fourth of July orations should not be
empty glorifications of America, but
rather expositions of American freodom,
said the late Rev. Howard Crosby,
which will equally resist tho tyranny of
the government and the tyranny of the
mob, which insists on law and order as
the only security of personal liberty, and
which will crush the anarchist as quick
ly as the despot. The great public should
have these fundamental doctrines ex
pounded to them on our great national
holiday, and the people should so
thoroughly understand them that any
attempt by man or church to inar the
symmetry of our liberties would be met
by au effectual and crushing indignar
tion. We do not sufficiently appreciate
our enormous advantages, and hence we
are careless regarding their conservar
tion. Were these advantages lost the
world would be set back many cen
turies. Let us therefore encourage true
American sontlmont as the antidote to
tho poison Introduced among us from
foreign sourceß, and let our Fourth of
July be consecrated to this elevation of
the American standard.
IIoi It Ih Again. J
All ulght wo beard the clanging
And tho cannon's loud report.
And at tho oarly hour of three
Our boys began their sport.
Our oyos are QUed with battle
We'ro deaf In elthor ear,
And thus by all wondrous Bigns
We know tho Fourth Is here. ifffij&fj
Special !
Special I
TO OUR PATRONS AND*
THE PUBLIC.
For the Next Two Weeks Only !
We are offering everything in the various lines of our
large stock at such low prices that they
will astonish you.
Please note the following quotations:
Good tea toweling. 4 cents per yard.
Best skirt lining, 4 cents per yards.
Best light calico, 4 cents per yard.
Good, heavy, yard-wide unbleached muslin, 10 yards for
50 cents.
Double-width fine cashmere, 10 cents per yard.
Fine 36-inch-wide Bedford cord and ehenron and Henrietta
dress goods that were 45 cents are now going at 25 cents.
In our line of Notions you can buy:
Ladies* ribbed undervests, 4 for 25 cents.
Men's seamless socks, 5 pairs for 25 cents.
Ladies' chemise, 25 cents each.
Lace curtains, from 75 cents per pair upward.
Shoe department:
Children's dongola spring heel shoes, 35 cents per pair.
Children's heavy pebble heel, or spring shoes, with sole
leather tip, 75 cents per pair, reduced from $1.25.
Youths' good lace shoos that were $1.25 are now going at
75 cents.
Ladies' common sense dongola shoes, SI.OO.
Men's good shoes, SI.OO.
Ladies' fine dongola shoes, with extension sole and patent
leather tip, at $1.25, reduced from $2.00.
Clothing:
Boys' outing cloth waists, 15 cents each.
Men's outing shirts, 20 cents each.
Boys' knee pants, 25 cents.
Men's good heavy pants, 75 cents.
Boys' knee pants suits, reduced from $2.00 to SI.OO.
Men's suits for $3.00 which were formerly sold at SO.OO.
;KF° ods WE DEFY COMPETITION.
Jos. NEUHIJIIGEH,
LEADER IN LOW PRICES,
P. 0. S. of A. Building, Ereeland, Pa.
Wt Aft
FOR
And Hardware of Every Description.
'REPAIRING DONE ON SHORT NOTICE.
I
We are prepared to do roofing and spouting in the most
] improved manner and at reasonable rates. We have the
choicest line of miners' goods in Freeland. Our mining oil,
selling at 20, 25 and 30 cents per gallon, cannot be surpasssed.
Samples sent to anyone on application.
Fishing Tackle and
Sporting Goods.
B\RKBECK'S,
CENTRE STREET, FREELAND, PA.