SLEEP. Behold I lay in prison like St. Paul, Chained to two guards that both wore grim aud stout. All day they sat by me and held mo thrall— The one was named Regret, the othol* Doubt. And through the twilight of that hopeless close There came an angel shining suddenly That took ino by the hand, and as I rose Tho chains grow soft and slipped away from Tho doors gave back aud swung without a sound. Like petals of some magl<j£ower unfurled. 1 followed, treading o'er eninranted ground. Into another uu!!Pa kindlier world. Tho master of that black and bolted keep Thou knowest is Life; the angel's namo is Sleep. —Archibald Lampman in Harper's. THE VEILED GHOST. In the fall of last year I received a telegram from the wife of my friend, Henry Todd, requesting my immediate presence at his house, which was in the country. I knew my friend to be some what -whimsical, and at first imagined that some fresh freak was imminent. On my arrival at the beautiful little villago of C I was greeted by Henry and his wife with the most cheerful cordiality. When Mrs. Todd had gone, Henry said in a solemn whisper, which filled mo with conjecture: "I have something to say to you when I got an opportunity; and as it concerns Mary, we must not speak of it before anybody. Hero she is! Tom, this is my sister! Mary, this is my dearest and oldest friend, Thomas Winslow, Els quire I" I could see that Henry was very fond of his boautiful sister; but this would have interested me less perhaps through out tho evening had I not detected in his manner a solicitude respecting her for which it was impossible to perceive a cause. Mrs. Todd mado no attempt to help me out of my bewilderment, but with infinite tact supported a conversation on fifty topics, without once touching upon the telegram. At hist tho ladies retired. Henry seated himself opposite me, and leaning forward, just as far as tho feat was safe, said very solemnly: "Tom, I've had a communication from my mother I I have seen her too." His mother had been dead for twenty years. "Well, Henry," eaiil 1 ill a careless \ fashion, "what sort of communication have yon got?" "I'll show you," and he arose and handed me a document, saying, "I re ceived that from her own hand." A wild wind shall blow, , And tlio beautiful snow Shall cover my Mary and me— And happy we'll sleep Far down In the deep. My sinless sweet Mary and me. It was with a kind of awe that I read these lines. As ho took the paper from me 1 mere ly said: "Tell nie the wholo affair. 1 suppose i|- you take that communication, as you call it, to refer to your sister?" "I do," he snid emphatically, "but I'll tell you what happened. "It has been my custom to sit late in this room if the nights were line. The inoon shone right in on me ono night lately—the third, I tliiuk, after Mary's nrrival—and I could see myself reflected in the glass of that chalk drawing hung above you there. That drawing is a portrait of my mother. "It was after midnight. Suddenly ] found myself regarding my own reflec tion, when behind my chair—in the glass—l saw something shape itself. 1 did not stir, but looked and distinctly saw a figure drapod in white leaning over me, and the face was the face of my mother! I saw the figuro pass by that door from this room. "On the third night afterward I had gone to bed, but could not sleep. 1 dressed and came down here to select a A- book. I carried a tui>er. "When I entered, standing within thoso curtains, close to the window and fronting me, wus the form I had seen before, drapod from head to foot in white, the face visiblo —my mother's face —and extending toward me a sheet of paper which wus unfolded. I took it from her hand, as slio approached and passed me, leaving the room. I sat down and read the verses which seem to have impressed even yourself. Now what do you think of it all?" "Is your sister informed?" 1 naked, evading a direct reply. "By no means." "That's right." The night was wearing on, but it was lieautifnl without, nnd 1 proposed a stroll. The ladies had retired, so that wo were free. Not a soul in the house was astir, nnd out wo went. Suddenly turning toward my moody friend; I again rushed into the subject, reckless of any feeling of his own. VShow mo that paper again," 1 de manded. "I have left it," said ho, and was about to roturn to the house, when I inter im ruptod him. "Never mind. 1 remember the lines, nnd am determined to sift the mutter on the spot. It seems to me that if there is anything supernatural about it, it is a supernatural blunder. "I deny that the spirit of your mother has apiH'ared to you. Two things are at any rate deducible from these communi cations. Either its effect was not intel ligently calculated or it was malignant ly devised." I drew myself up about this stage of my headlong gallop over my friend, just to have a look at him and to adjust my self. "Let us return," said he, suddenly linking his arm in mine. "Perhaps you are right, Tom. But you are driving 1110 to suppose that there is something wrong with myself." Our conversation had drifted from the subject altogether when we approached the house. . "There is some one on the lookout for M us," I exclaimed, us I looked toward the window of the library. "Oh, God!" I heard Henry groan, al- most in tho instant, and I saw that his face was ashen as the face of the dead, while he stood gazing toward the win dow. There, sufficiently revealed in the raining moonlight, wus the figure of a woman, arrayed as for a bridal; but it lingered only for a moment, and then deliberately moved away. It paralyzed me. For an instant 1 felt inclined to read in it an easy mockery of my own egotism. Not for long, however; a feeling akin to anger soon steadied me, and 1 said to Henry: "This is all un infernal piece of hum bug, my boy, and I must and will bo at the bottom of it." We proceeded to the house and into it, and into the library, where all was silent as we had quitted it. I lit the gas. Henry's first act was to survey his mother's portrait. Then he made search for the mysterious paper "It is gone," said he, in awed tones. I proposed that we should adjourn till morning, so that we could have daylight upon the subject. Immediately after breakfast Henry made for the library, and I followed him. Just then we heard the piano struck by expert fingers in an adjoining room, and a rich, low voice sing the notes of an air which I had never heard before. I felt that I could not listen to it and stand, so strangely did the melody float and linger, and flutter and die away. Meantime Henry was wandering about tho room. "What can have come over that poem, I wonder?" I heard him say as he lifted an ink bottle, a book, a decanter, and looked under them all in turn. "Wait a moment for me," 1 said to him as I slipped out of the room and joined the musician. It was his sister, of coarse, and 1 joined her just as slxo concluded the in fernal or suiiernal melody, and know ing not what better to do I requested her to favor me by repeating it. "Do you like it?" she quickly asked. "It is a wonderful tiling," J returned. "May I ask whose aro the verses and who is tho composer?" "Tho verses aro my mother's and tho music is my own." I was stupefied. "Do you possess a written copy of them?" "No; but I conld not forget them. 1 feel so soi-ry sometimes, for I liavo lost tho mannscript in her own handwrit ing." "Excuse me for asking, Miss Todd; but have you a copy of those verses in your own handwriting?" "I have not, Mr. Winslow. I sing them from memory." "This is very extraordinary. 1 cer tainly read those verses in manuscript last evening." "Indeed!" she exclaimed, looking at me curiously. "Most likely you heard me sing them late, and that may have cheated you into the idea. I played and sung them last night." My first proceeding when I reached my bedroom that night was to drink a glass of brandy, my next to untie a packet of fine starch powder, with which I had armed myself some hours before. A little later, when not a sound was heard in the house, you might have seen mo slip off my slippers, take up the pow dor, cautiously invade the hall and sow the entire area of it with powder. When I entered tho library I shut out tho moonlight, which was playing the mischief witli my fancy, and lit the gas. I thou seated myself in the chair which faced the hanging portrait of Henry's mother, and I conld see my own reflec tion plainly In its glass front. Presently I detected a scries of slight sounds in tho distance, as of some ono astir. While my heated imagination was busily forging fetters for my judg ment the library door opened slowly and the moving image of tho portrait, draped in wliito veil, mado straight for tho curtained window, leaving in its wako at every step the white impress of an unmistakable reulity. 1 saw at onco, of course, that It was Miss Todd who stood before me, but had a planet been at stake I could not have movod or spoken. She opened the window shutter very deliberately and tho moonlight streamed into the room, transforming everything and imparting to her features and her figure an indistinct and shadowy beauty, which was altogether spiritual aud un vestured of decay. I saw her take from a fold of her thick veil a paper, which she read over in the full light. I could see her eyes—that they wore a look as if they saw nothing nearer than the land of darkness. Her face was like the faco of one who had been dead. I was trembling like a leaf when tho figure moved straight toward me, and holding forth the paper said, in n strange, far off pleasantness of voico: "Is it not very beautiful? You may take a copy from it if you like, but do not lose it again." I started to my feet, and to my as tonishment I did not Btartlo the beauti ful sleeper, who had strode away as stately as she had come, leaving in my hand tho simple manuscript, which I held fast, as if it might take wing. Wlion I went down stairs before breakfast I found Henry making a puz aled scrutiny of mysterious footprints, tho unaccountable tiling being that up on the steps there were shown the foot prints of a man and a woman, and with in the library the evidence of feminine invasion only. Tho light I wtxs enabled to throw upon the matter brought a smile to the countenance of my friend that broaden ed presently into a laugh.—B. P. in New York News. One Wrong Man Died. A foreign contemporary revives a char acteristic anecdote of Rossini. On the death of Meyerbeer, his nephew, Jacques Beer, composed a funeral march in his honor. In a moment of weakness he asked Rossini what he thought of it. "Not bad," replied the maestro, "but it would be bettor if you had died and Meyerbeer had written the march." IN THE DEAD kJAND. They tell the tale unsmiling. Old men, their hours beguiling L,. As they can; L)J Each annual November t They sadden who remember fe"- Inkermuuu. t Yet of that fiold one story • Shines through the gloom and glory fj Of the fight; Over the cannons' roaring >f.\ There sings a lark song soaring . Out of sight. Aloof, where men lay bleeding. In fatal pain whose pleading Made no crv, Shot pierced and saber smitten, A young and gallant Briton Crept to die. At sunset there they found him With tho red snow around him. And his hand Laid on tho Book whoso healing All hearts to heaven appealing Understand. And 'neath his frozen fingers Those words whoso hope out lingers Human strife Glowed liko a star's reflection— "l am the Resurrection And tho Life." Comrades to burial bore him, But not death's rending tore Idm From his prize. For to his hand caressing Still clung tho leaf whoso blessing Closed his eyes. 0 Christian song supernal. Words sweetest love eternal Escr said! Peace at your call comes flying. And they who clasp you dying Are not deud. —Theron Brown in Youth's Companion. Great Expectations. Mother—My daughter, you should de cide in favor of one of your admirers or you may lose both. Daughter—Pa, I can't make up my mind which to accept, Henry or George. "Then I am to understand that you love them both?" "Yes, I love them both most devot edly." "Which of them has tho largest in come?" "Henry has seventy-five dollars a month and George lias fifty dollars." "Then I don't see why you hesitate. Accept Henry, of course, and tell George to go about his business." "Yes, but George has great pros pects." " Humbug I Prospects don't count. Everybody has got great prospects, and twenty-fivo dollars a month is very handsome interest on such a capital as 'great prospects.' Next time George calls tell him that you can never be more than asister to him, and get rid of him." —Texas Siftings. Why Hulled Water Freezes Easily. Water which is hot of course cannot freeze until it has parted with its heat; but water that has been boiled will, other things being equal, freezo sooner than water which has not been boiled. A slight disturbance of water disposes it to freezo more rapidly, and this is the cause which accelerates the freezing of boiled water. Tho water that lias been boiled has lost the air naturally con tained in it, which on exposure to the atmosphere it begins again to attract and absorb. During this process of ab sorption a motion is necessarily pro duced among its particles, slight cer tainly and imperceptible, yet probably sufficient to accelerate its congelation. In unboiled water this disturbance does not exist; indeed water when kept per fectly still can bo reduced several de grees below tho freezing point without its becoming ice.—Brooklyn Eagle. Mothers' Ways. Mrs. Spoots (looking out of tho win dow) —Goodness I Here comes that hor rid Mrs. Waggles and all her children. What shull I do? Aunt Totsie—l know! Johnny, as soon as they get seated you say you don't feel well, do you hear? Johnny (two minutes later)—l feel aw ful sick. Aunt Totsie—Oh, let me see your throat. Mercy on us I I hope you aren't going to have diphtheria. Mrs. Waggles—l hope not! Come, children! We only dropped in for a uxor ment. —Philadelphia Times. In an Album. 1 turn tho pages idly And shadow faces eeo That time and distance widely Now separate from mo. Bnt one, with beauty rarest, I see as through a mist Of years: her face tho fairest— The girl I uever kissed. For all these winsome creatures My heart beat wild and warm- Maude, with her classic features; Blanche, with her perfect form. And May, for one whole season, I ranked upon her list. Then sought, with love's unreason. The girl I never kissed. Louise, this stately goddess. Queen of tho ballroom's whirl. And Bess in kilt and bodico, A darling summer girl. Past scores, by eusy stages. To turn I can't resist. To whero upon this page Is The girl I never kissed. Blie'd all their winning graces. Their wit and beauty raro; The charm of all their faces Crowned with her golden hair. Ahl how I was enriintured To fruitlessly persist. Because I never captured The girl I never kissed! —F. 11. C'urtiss in Truth. An Important Point. In a law case, in which a question ot Identity was being discussed, the cross e: ambling advocate said to the witness "And you would not be nble to tell hi from Adam?" "You have not yet asked the witn Mr. X.," interrupt ed the judge, speak in a studiously deliberate manner, "who. er he is acquainted with the personal ap pearunce of the personage whose name yo have just mentioned. There must be o: der in your questions."—Green Bag. And She Knows She Is "Out of Sight." Biff—b-u-r-r A whiff and a whir, An odor of heliotrope daintily raro Is flashed on tho tremulous billows of air; Tho noise of a wheel for a moment's brief space, A dream of a delicate feminine face. Tie gone in an instant—that vision so bright— The bicycle girl is out of sight. —Washington Star. She Took Pride in Him. I It was a good many minutes after mid night when Mr. Snaggs reached home, and after a good deal of experimenting with the keyhole and the latchkey finally let himself in. lie went up stairs as stealthily as he could, hut of course they creaked, and when he reached the second floor his wife I was wide awake. "What time is it?" she asked. ! "A little while after 12 by my watch, my dear, hut I think it's fast." | "Something like its owner," Mrs. Snaggs I commented in a frigid voice, j Mr. Snaggs made no reply. "Where were you tonight?" she de I manded. I "My dear," responded Snaggs in in jured tones, "you don't mistrust your own husband, I hope?" "Not at all. I merely had some curios ity to know what fresh excuse you had concocted, that's all."—New York Re corder. Her Little Joke. "Why did you toss young Chapley over boa rd?" "Oh, I was tired of him; I wanted to renew my youth, don't you know."—Life. Struck Down. A farmer told this story the other day at Newtown, L. I.: "Crops liad turned out pretty badly, and the prospect for sprouting was worse. No rain had fallen for many days. I was about discouraged. "My boys were flying a kite. " 'Dad,' they said, 'send up a message.' "I took a piece of paper—half of a sheet of note paper—and wrote on it: 'Will it rain? Henry K. Smith.' Then tho hoys sent up tho message, as you did many a time when you were hoys. "Well, that message went scooting away up. Before long a whole flock, or what ever you call it, of sparrows came along. They spied the kite and the message away up there and kicked up a great rumpus They darted at tho paper, drove their lit tie bills through it time and time again and pecked furiously at it. Then they stood off at some distance, as if inspecting their work, and then they flew off and took up position in a big old tree. "The boys shortly afterward, when the air became close and the big black clouds began to bank themselves up all about, pulled down the kite. "But a small piece of the paper re mained. AH of tho name hut the yon the end of Henry, the E and tho S on the Smith had been pecked away. That spelled •yes ' "But the strangest thing was yet to hap pen. That night there was a thunder storm, but strange to say not a drop of rain fell. "Next morning wo found that the tree in which the sparrows had taken refuge had been struck during the night, and that every blamed one of those sparrows had been killed. "What for? "'Twan't the first time a fellow was struck down for lying, was it?"— Ne w Evening Sun. Motherly Pride Justified "Mildred, is it true that Frances Billi- j wink has been seeking to attract the at- j tention of Harold Spangler?" The regal, dark eyed girl bowed her stately head. "She has, mother." "Does she not know he is your affianced husband?" "I—l think so. Everybody knows it." "And—pardon me, my child—does he seem to waver in his allegiance to you?" "No, mother." A look of relief, mingled with an unmis takable expression of gratified maternal pride, flashed ucross the gentle face of the mother. "I am glad to hear it, Mildred," she said tenderly. "I could hardly think it possi ble, I confess, that a girl of her merely superficial attainments and florid style of beauty could attract the fancy or snare the affections of a discerning, self poised young man like Harold Spangler. And you are sure she has utterly failed?" "I know what I am talking about, moth er," rejoined the proud girl, her lips cur ling in magnificent scorn. "When Fan Billiwink tried to cut me out she bit off more than she could chew."—Chicago Tribune. Out of the Pun. Sea Captain—Yes, I want a boy, but I think you look like a runaway. Now ain't ye? Didn't you run away from home? Boy— Ye-ye-y-e-s, but I couldn't help it They was goin to send me to a dentist to have six teeth filled. "They was, was they? Well, I'd 'a' run off too. I don't believe in fillin teeth." "N-o, sir; I don't either." "Of course not. You come on board with me, and if anything's wrong with your teeth th' carpenter can take 'em out with a monkey wrench." Boy went home.—Good News. Maud Muller. Maud Muller worked at raking hay. And got more freckles day by day. Until her face looked like n side Of leather from a horse's hide. She didn't care till boarders came From Boston town, and then her shame Was really pitiful to see. At least it so appeared to me. llcr reddest blushes wouldn't show. The freckles were too thick, you know. —Detroit Tribune. Always tho Case. As you rub both your elbow and shin. You are tempted to swear some no doubt, For just when you think you uro in Is the time when you find you are out. —New York Evening Sua. One Greut Advantage. I've got a good New England taste For ev'ry kind of pies. But huckleberry's best, because You cannot see the Hies. —Exchange. COTTAGE HOTEL, Cor. of Main and Washington Streets, PEEELAND, MATT SIEGER. Prop. Having leased the above hotel and furnished it in the best style, I am prepared to eater to the wants of the traveling public. t*r GOOD STABLING ATTACHED. For Information and free Handbook write to MUNN St CO.. Sibl lIUUADWA Y, NEW YORK. Oldest bureau for securing patents in America. Every patent taken out by us Is brought beforo tho public by a notice given free of charge In tho J tmtifit JVmmnm Largest circulation of nr.y seiontlflc pnpor in tho world. Splendidly illustrated. No intelligent man should be without it. Weekly, S.'i.OO a year; $1.50 six months. Address MUNN A CO, PUDLlSiiLlts, 361 lfroudway. New York. patent! A 48-page book free. Address W. T. FITZ GERALD, Att'y-ut-Law. Cor. Bth and FSts., Washington, D. C. Pimples, iJPt Boils; Black- Jyjl Heads, Wo must all havo now,Wh blood, which Is rapidly inado by that remarkable prepar ation, Dr. LUTDSET'C IMPBOVED BLOOD CEABOuSG. For the speedy cure of Scrofula, Wasting, Mercurial Disease, Eruptions, Erysipelas, vital decay, and overy indication of inpover iahed blood. Dr. Lindsoy'n Blood Goarchor Is the o&i romody that can always bo relied upon. Druggists sell it. * ' THE SELLERS MEDICINE CO; m ■ a ■?'l r T^ B . u . > V :s F , P . A : . R U PT U R EISSS la. Ease at once. No operation or busincs ii 5 y —Thousands of cures. Dr. Mayer Is at Hotel Penn, Reading, Da., second Saturday of each month. Send tor circulars. Advice free. 18 but skin deep. There are thousands ofladiss who have regular features and would bo ac corded tho palm of beauty were it not for a poor To all such we recommend DR. HEBRA'B VIOLA CRfcAM as possessing these qualities that quickly change the most sallow and florid complexion to one of natural health and unblemished beauty. It cures Oily Skin, Freckles, Black Heads, Blotches, Sunburn, Tun, Pimples, and all imperfections of tho skin. It is not a cosmetic bu ta cu re, yet is bet ter for tho toilet tnbla than powder. Bold by Druggists, or sent post paid upon receipt of 60c. G. C. BITTNER A CO., Toledo, O. HORSEMEN ALL KNOW THAT Wise's Harness Store Is still here and doing busi ness on the same old principle of good goods and low prices. HORSE GOODS. Blankets, Buffalo Robes, liar - ness, and in fact every thing needed by Horsemen. Good workmanship and low prices is my motto. GEO. WISE, Jeddo, and No. 35 Centre St. j I I CURE THAT ii Cold ii I, AND STOP THAT |l ii Cough, i; I'n.H. Downs' Elixir !! WILL DO IT. || j | Price, 25c., 50c., and SI.OO per bottle.| | j | Warranted. Sold everywhere. | | j , HINBY, JOHN3ON k LORD, Propi., Burlington, Vt. j | !###•### Sold at Schilcher's Drug Store. MIIUITIHIIHI iraiMf— What is Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher's prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years' use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays fcverisbncss. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd, cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves teething troubles, cures constipation and flatulency. Castoria nssimilatcs the food, regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Cas toria is the Children's Panacea—the Mother's Friend. Castoria. Castoria. " Castoria is an excellent medicine for chil- • Castoria is so well adapted to children that dren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its j recommend it as superior to any prescription good effect upon their children." known to me." DR. Q. C. OSGOOD, H. A. ARCHER, M. D. # Lowell, Mass. 11l So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. " Castoria is the best remedy for children of " Our physicians in the children's depart which I ara acquainted. I hope the day is not ment have spoken highly of their experi far distant when mothers will consider the real ence in their outside practice with Castoria, interest of their children, and use Castoria in- and although we only have among our stead of the various quack nostrums which are medical supplies what is known as regular destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium, products, yet wo are free to confess that the morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful merits of Castoria has won us to look with agents down their throats, thereby sending favor upon it." them to premature graves." UNITED HOSPITAL AND DISPENSARY, DR. J. F. KINCHELOE, Boston, Mass. Conway, Ark. ALLEN C. SMITH, Pres., Tlxo Centaur Company, TT Murray Street, New York City* [GRAND BLEARING SALE! ! FOUR WEEKS ONLY, j | To Make Room for Fall Goods. ; L "We will close car entire stock •< | cf ties o-u/t at cost. << GEO. CHESTNUT. 93 CENTRE ST., FREELAND. " WHAT TO WEAR! WHERE TO GET IT! L wo important questions tliat trouble young men, old men, big boys and little boys. We will answer your queries most satisfactorily. We have ready-made clothing to suit men and boys—all styles and all sizes, and everything is just from the manufacturer—as new as new can bo. Our stock of gents' furnishing goods— including collars, cuffs and a handsome line of neck wear—is certainly worth examining. Then we have BOOTS, SHOES, HATS, GAPS, ETC., in such great varieties that no man need leave our es tablishment without a perfect fit. We can rig a man out from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet in such fine style that his friends will be astonished, and the man will also be astonished at the low cost of anything and everything he will buy of JOHN SMITH, BIRKBECK F S ND . "THE NEW YORK." ARE THE VERY LOWEST. Mrs. E. Grimes, Milliner and Dressmaker, CENTRE STREET, BELOW FRONT. JOB PRINTING OF ALL KINDS DONE AT THE TRIBUNE OFFICE.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers