IPlUafli Oreat [louel. V ji' '""i" THE J° INT WORK OF ( ffiT^Krjjjm' Ella Wheeler Wilcox, ' Maj. Alfred C. Calhoun, ljr^:^^SßgolT" rtf Alan Dale, Howe & Hummel, Pauline Hall, Inspector Byrnes, ggf' John L. Sullivan, . M,. j>' i/vf sp" Nell Nelson, Mary Eastlake, ' " ! P. T. Barnum. Bill Nye. X.—FISTS FLY. By JOHN L. SULLIVAN. Illustrated by H, BOTTHOF. [Copyright. All rights reserved.] Baldwin's theatre was thronged with the beauty, wealth and fashion of San Francisco. There was not a seat vacant, and even standing room was at a premium. Henry Hensliall, moody and discon tented, occupied a proscenium box alone. Ilia bride of a few days was at the hotel, forgotten by her husband. It was to be tho last appearance of his divinity, and although he had tried every possible and impossible way of meeting her, if only for a few minutes, he had failed. That night he had determined to speak to her at all hazards. Early in the evening he stationed him self at the stage entrance, and there patiently awaited her arrival. It wanted but fifteen minutes to 8 o'clock when she drove up in a modest hansom. She stepped lightly out, and glancing neither right nor loft bolted for the door. Her fame was so great that there was a crowd waiting on the sidewalk to catch a glimpse of her face, and no one paid any particular attention to the haggard young man in evening dress among them until ho suddenly pushed forward and attempted to lay a detaining hand on tho young lady's arm. She did not notice the movement be cause, quick as he was, there was another quicker, and before he could touch her a big, wall dressed man stepped quickly forward, and with no gentle hand dragged Henshall back into tho crowd, saying gruffly and fiercely: "Must not block the passageway. 'Gainst the rules, see?" "What the devil—l say, let me go, will you? I must see that lady. I know her. Do you hear? Who the devil are you, anyway?" gasped Henshall strug gling in the grasp of his captor. The latter smiled sneeringly and held the young man easily until the fair vio linist had passed through the stage door. Then he released him, remarking: "I know you know her, you blackguard, and I know she left orders that she wished to see 110 one, and least of all you. If we could only induce her to make a complaint against you I would take tho greatest delight in putting you behind the bars, you scoundrel. As you havo asked for my name I will give you my card. Hero it is," and he handed the artist a plain white piece of paste board stamped: I JIM BURNS, • j : Detective Police, Central Oflieo. To say that Henshall was surprised j would be putting it mildly. Ho was so indignant and astonished by tho big de tective's tirade that he could only listen in helpless amazement. He took the card mechanically and asked stupidly: "She said she didn't want to seo me? Why, she don't know me." Burns laughed sarcastically as he turned away, saying: "Remember, young fellow, I'll keep my eyes 011 you," and before Henshall could gather his wits sufficient to de mand an explanation Burns had disap peared. The young artist found himself in a ridiculous position, the center of a guy ing mob, when 110 did recover himself. "Get on to the Johnnie!" "Pipe do patent leathers!" "Ho would be a mash er, would ho?" and other such uncom plimentary allusions were showered on him, so 110 hastily went around to tho front of the house and pushed his way to his box, determined at the first op portunity of having an explanation "with Mr. Jim Burns, detective." Two minutes after ho had gone away from the stage entrance a red headed messenger boy shoved his way through the crowd that still lingered there. He rapped loudly at the door for ad mittance, while those around regarded him curiously, and many asked him, "What's up?" "Nutliin'," was his nonchalant reply. < After a delay of several minutes the stage door was cautiously o]>ened a few j Inches, and a portion of the good nat- ' ured Teutonic countenance of Herr Op per became visible. Seeing tho boy in uniform he admit- j ted him at once, asking: "Message? For whom?" Without any undue haste, and mak ing no reply, the lad unbuttoned his jacket, shoved his left hand carefully into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a book. Oj>ening this carefully he took out a message addressed to "Miss Louise Ne ville, Baldwin's thoatre, urgent," and handed it to the impatient manager. As he saw the address tho latter turned as if to hurry away, but tho im perturable messenger caught him by the coat tail, shoved his little black covered book in his face and said: "Sign, please. And say, give a fellow a ticket, will yer?" With a smothered execration the wor thy Opper signed for the message, and never heeding the boy's other request rushed oil with tho telegram to his star's dressing room. As ho approached it he heard the low, sweet strains of "Home, Sweet Home" played with a touch on tho violin which made it fairly seem to speak. The music ceased abruptly as he knocked for admission, and the door j was openetl'by Miss Neville, who gazed at her manager in a startled way. "Oh, Mr. Opper, is it time to go on? I had 110 idea that I was late." j "You are not late. The curtain will ; not go up for ten minutes yet, but this dispatch just arrived and I thought it j best to bring it to you at once." The girl's face turned deathly pale. "Let me have it," she gasped. He handed her the little yellow packet. She tore the envelope hurriedly, and it needed but a glance to master the con tents: "Come at once. Your father is dying. "Du. WATSON." | She did not totter and fall, but like a thoroughbred she held her queenly little head up high and said, quite calmly: "I am sorry to forfeit my engagement, Mr. Opper," alio said, "but I must leave you now at once. My father is dying. Read," and she held out the message to him. I "Hum, ah!" remarked Opper. Much as he admtred his fair attrac tion ho did not like to lose the night's money, even if he had already earned a big purse through her. j Still, in the presence of death he thought it best to throw up the sponge, hoping by agreeing amiably to arrange for her reappearance later on. In addition ho had conceived a sincere and fatherly interest in the lonely girl, and so he submitted to tho inevitable and said quite cheerfully: "Well, I sup pose you must go, my dear. But there is an awful big house. I don't know what we can do. You must go alone, I suppose. I could not get away to-night, and you would not wait until to-morrow. How long has your father been in I Chicago?" "I did not know he was there until I received this telegram, which is sent from there," she answered, as she began j to collect her few belongings. I "Well, wait a minute," cried Opper, f suddenly rushing out. He found Jim Burns around in the lobby of the theatre and quickly ex i plained matters to him. | "I am going to close the house and re turn the money to-night, but I want to get Miss Neville safely off first; and now, Jim, you must follow hor. I don't know why, but I mistrust the telegram. Will you go? Name your own terms." "I'll go," said Burns, "but I must ex plain to the chief." ! "There is no time. Leave that to me. He'll refuse me nothing. Get a cab and have it at tho sido door. First let the girl know you are following her. When she gets in the cab, you havo another one ready and follow. A train goes in twen ty minutes." "That duck you told me to watch is j inside. You'd better not say where the j girl is going," said Burns. | "I won't," and with a hearty shaking of hands the men parted. Five minutes later, heavily veiled, Louise Neville emerged from the stage door and entered the cab awaiting her. As she drove off Burns got into another cab, ordering the driver to follow the first. . Meantime Opper was going through the most difficult ordeal known to the theatrical manager, that of trying to account for the non-appearance of his star. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, glancing at tho vast audience apprehen sively, "Miss Neville cannot appear to night. Illness in her family. Her father dying. Message from Chicago to-night." Then he paused abruptly, remember ing that ho had given her destination away, and glanced at the box occupied by Henshall. Tho latter hail heard enough. He was leaving his box like a flash, so tho good hearted manager concluded his api ilogies with a rush, saying, "Sorry to disappoint you, ladies and gentlemen, and sorry to lose the door money, but it will be all returned at the box office, and I hope never to disappoint you again, and be lieve me your true and personal friend, Opper." Then he rushed off the stage, deter mined to foil Henshall at all hazards. "Ass! dolt!" were the pet names he called himself as he rushed out and i jumped into a hack, commanding the driver, "Union depot, triple fare." i As ho had surmised, Henshall was driving the same way and just as fast in [ another conveyance, j He did not know if his ideal woman had already started for Chicago or not, j but he was bound to go there and find her. j He rushed into the depot and bought a ticket, and was told that a train would | leave in two minutes. | He jumped aboard and rushed hastily ! through the cars. j At last his heart gave a great jump and then nearly stopped beating, j He saw hor in a forward car, her shapely head resting in a pathetic way on one little gloved hand. 1 Then indeed Henshall lost his reason, anil knew that the woman before luni was the woman he truly loved. I Forgetful alike of prudenco and com mon sense he walked rapidly toward him and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Pardon me, Miss Neville. If you knew how much I want to talk to you, j how much I have to say to you! I know you are in danger!" The last word he whispered, as there were others about. The girl could not see his faco dis tinctly. She feared all strangers, so she arose and said icily: "Please go away. I do not know you, sir.' She had no need to say any more. Burns had been just a little neglectful or else Henshall never would have got as near her as he had. But the big de tective determined to atone for his neglect. He applied fist, boot and his magnifi cent strength to the painter's anatomy, and rushed him through the car like a whirlwind, and out on the platform. Henshall was not a coward. Twice had he been baffled by this burly fellow, and now he determined to fight him. The scrap ensued then and there. The scrap ensued then 0/14 there. Henshall knew how to use his dukes, and ho did valiantly. Burns, although a powerful man, knew little of the Bcience of boxing, so his lighter antagonist pummeled him well with three c four straight from the shoulder before he got a chance tc close with him and overpower him. Just then Opper, hot and indignant, piled through the crowd pell moll, shouting: "Hold him! Hold tho scoundrel! Arrest him!" During the excitement the train rolled away and tho girl was gone alone, with no one of tho three men, all so anxiously desirous of aiding her, near her. Burns was savage. To several police men who qnickly gathered ho displayed his badge, and then, summoning a cab and accompanied by Opper, he took Henshall a prisoner to police headquar ters. There Opper told the chief that tho painter was a scoundrel who had been pursuing and annoying his star. The charge was so ridiculous that Hen shall laughed aloud. Then, in bitter tones, he turned to Opper and said: "You fool, if you had only come to me like a man I would have cleared up your unjust suspicions." He then explained the case in full, claiming only a chivalrous interest in the girl. He had no little trouble in proving the truth of his statement, but he finally did, with the assistance of Mrs. Smith, j Mutual explanations ensued, and he I and Burns shook hands and wore friends, I fighting for the same cause. | "I start for Chicago to-night," said I Henshall, careless of everything. "And I am with you," said Burns. By the midnight train Burns and Hen i shall were speeding toward Chicago, de | termined to aid Louise Neville to the ut -1 most of their power. XI.—LENA MAKES A DISCOVERY. By P. T. BAENUM. Illustrated by H, 0. COULTAUB. [Copyright. All rights reserved.] Thero comes a crisis in the lives of most people when sorrows crowd so thick J and fast that thero is a dreary satisfac tion in the thought that "things cannot be much worse." | So felt Edna Crawford, sitting with bowed head and shaken nerves, on the train that is bearing her onward to the bedside of her dying father. She bitter ly regrets ever having left him, and tor tures herself with wild pictures of the sufferings he may have endured at the unscrupulous hands of Dr. Watson. So felt Edna Crawford, sitting with bowed head. j For this man, so inextricably entan gled with the sorrow and disgrace that are connected with her past life, she feels a deep and relentless loathing. It was through his persecutions she was forcod to leave her father's side, and remem bering this, her young face wears an ex pression of such intense hatred that it attracts the attention of the lady occu pying the opposite chair. This lady had quietly entered the car by one door as Henry Henshall, power less in the grasp of Detective Burns, was ejected through the other. ; She was dressed in an elaborate light silk gown, totally inappropriate for trav eling, and over a dainty little theatre bonnet was pinned a heavy dark veil that completely covered hor face.. Beneath the veil was tho tear stained countenance of Lena Henshall, who had been aroused by the tragic expression of Edna Crawford's face into thinking thero was perhaps some one else as unhappy as herself. Two hours before, when Henry Hen shall left his young wife for the pursuit of his fascinating ideal, Lena had wan dered aimlessly up and down her little parlor, a prey to bitter meditations. Sick ! at heart from brooding over her hus j band's neglect and the thoughts of a lonely and loveless future, she called Mrs. Smith and announced her Inten tion of passing the evening at the thea tre. At the sight of the girl's tear stained face Mrs. Smith wisely held her tongue, but the cynical smile that played about her thin lips caused young Mrs. Hcnshall to feel for her trusted com panion a sudden hot dislike. When Mrs. Smith left to make some preparation for accompanying her Lena threw herself on the bed in a paroxysm of bitter weeping. Her thoughts turned longingly toward her father, to whom she had always gone for advice and sym pathy, and with these thoughts came the sudden determination to go to him without delay. She knew that Banker Hartman was then in Chicago on an im portant financial mission, and summon ing a bell boy she procured a time table and found that with haste she could catch the 8:30 Chicago express. She thrust a few articles into a valise, and leaving a brief message for Mrs. Smith to the effect "that she had de cided to go out alone and not to wait up for her," she stepped into a cab and was soon at the Union depot. She purchased her ticket, securing the only remaining section on the train, and before she had time to realize the importance of the step she had taken she was whirling away en route for Chicago. Lena was suddenly brought back to the consciousness of her position by the porter, who was collecting the compart ment tickets preparatory to making up the berths for the night. Edna, who in the haste of her depar ture had neglected to secure any sleep ing section, now found that everything had been previously engaged and that the only alternative to sitting up all night was an uninviting looking lounge at the end of the car. Mrs. Honshall, who had been attracted by the girl's de spairing face, stepped forward and of fered her the other berth in her own compartment. Edna accepted gratefully and warmly thanked her unknown companion for her courtesy. As she moved from the seat her foot touched a small, dark object lying on the floor close to her chair. It was a leather card case, stamped with initials "H. R. H." With a view to discovering the owner Edna opened it, and extracting one of the bits of pasteboard read aloud, "Mr. Henry Rowan Henshall, New York city." "Why, this must have been dropped by the gentleman who spoke to me just as the train was leaving San Francisco," she said. Lena had grown deadly pale. "The gentleman who spoke to you?" sho ques tioned faintly. "Yes," replied Edna hesitatingly, "a tall, blonde gentleman who has followed me on several previous occasions. This evening ho spoke to mo and I resented it. A stranger present at the time came to my assistance, and in the disturbance that followed this card case was proba bly lost." Lena Henshall remained silent. Crush* ed and humiliated by this proof of her husband's duplicity she had not the courage to further question her com panion. Ilor love for her husband was the first grand emotion of her life, and the dis covery she had just made filled her with a mad, wild jealousy. When sho finally retired for the night it was with the pleasing knowledge that in the berth above her, by her own invitation, Lay the girl who was the cause of her hus band's indifference and probably the possessor of her husband's love. How long she tossed about in her narrow berth, wakeful and miserable, Lena never knew. Just as merciful sleep was closing her weary eyelids there came a sudden jar, then a horrid crash, a shriek that rent the air, a blow upon her head that made a hideous glare of light, and then darkness absolute and blessed uncon sciousness. The papers of the following day were filled with the ghastly details of the awful railway accident near B . The names of the surviving passen gers, together with a list of tne killed and wounded, were published, but the name of Edna Crawford, alias Louise Neville, did not appear in any of these accounts, nor did tne strictest and most diligent inquiries throw any light on the complete and mysterious disappearance of this young woman. [TO BR CONTINUED.J Tlio Coyoto in a New Character. When El Paso Was a little village called Franklin it was the boast of old timers that hydrophobia was unknown in the southwest save when the fron tiersman was exposed to the bite of the skunk. Of recent years a new danger has been added to a life upon the plains from the attack of the coyote or wild dog of the plains. Under normal cir cumstances the coyote is a cowardly animal. But duo to some fact unknown to the writer of late years coyotes have been frequently known in the southwest to attack travelers in broad daylight or to sneak upon them when wrapped up in their blankets resting, unsuspicious of danger. Five deaths occurred last year from this cause, one of them near Albu querque. Lieutenant Britton Davis, of Chihuahua, Mexico, on Saturday in formed the writer of three fresh cases, one the son of a bishop. Of the other two the lieutenant had just been in formed by one of the victims in person, who had been bitten when asleep at the hacienda of Corralitos. They were two brothers, one having died of the effects of a bite in the head, the remaining one having arrived in person in El Paso seeking medical assistance. —El Paso (Tex.) Bulljon. Ho Used to Ito u Dentist. Michael Colin is a barber and he used to be in the dental profession. Some time ago a woman went into his place and had him extract a tooth. The woman was in the employ of the State Dental society, and Colin paid a fine of fifty dollars, imposed by Judge Fitz gerald, in the court of general sessions, for illegally practicing dentistry.—New York Letter. GEMS IN VERSE. So Runs the World Away. "Give mo but gold," * be IK ggar cried, "Ami the world HI nil hi torn and bloom AH it bus not done since I ho Eden days Were brought out of ctuics and pi.Ami I will drivogauiil hungt r from oil tho earth The poor into plenty shall have a new birth. The heavy hearts shall have cnuso for mirth. And in pleasure shall all abide." And ft message catno in legal lore, "He is dead and his wealth is thine." Ho signed the papers unci pot the gold. And in velvet sat ut his wine; Tho winds without howled shrill uud cold; In ruga and tatters a woman old Came begging, for hunger had made her bold, And he spurned her from his door. —Lou J. Beauchamp. Ambition. Tho German emperor and 1 Within tho self same year were horn. Beneath tho self same sky, Upon tho self same morn; A kaiser he, of high ostute. And I tho usuul chance of fate. His father was a prince, and mine- Why, just u farmer—that is all. Stars still are stars, although somo shine. And some roll hid in midnight's pall; But argue, cavil all you can. My siro was just as good a man. The German emperor and 1 Eat, driuk and sleep tho self sumo way; For bread is bread and pie Is pie, And kings can eat hut thrico a day. And sleep will to thoso Whoso mouths and ?!omaohsaro not foes. I rise at six and go to work, And ho at Ave, and does tho same. Wo With Lav o cares wo cannot shirk; Mine are for loved ones; his for fame. He may live best, 1 cannot tell; I'm sure I wish tho kaiser well. I have a wife, and so has he; And yet, If pictures no not err. As far as hurauu sight can sou Mine is by long mlds twice as fair. Say, would I trade those eyes, dark brown! Not for an empress and her crown. And so tho emperor and 1 On this ono ioint could ne'er agree; Moreover, wo will never try. His frati Huits him and mine suit* me. And though his sous ono day may rule. Mine stand A1 in the public school. So let the kaiser havo his sway. Bid kings and nations tumble down, I have my freedom aud my suy. And fear no ruler and his crown; For I, unknown to fame or war. Live where cuch man is emperor. —Fred Warner Shirley. The Good Old Times, tfhat easy times our fathers had; they lived a natural way. To earn a half a dollar then they hadthewholo long day. Some fourteen hoursdid they have this meagci sum to win, The whole long, blessed day to earn a half & dollar in. How light their lot compared with ours; wi have to spurt and spin. Wo who aro granted hut 6ix hours to earn twelve dollars in. Two hundred dollars in a year was all they had to earn, But wo must earn five thousand™ will those old days ne'er return? And they had twelve months to earn it, four toon hours to tho day; But wo havo to have vacations which steal half our time away; We've only B!X hours in tho day and eight mouths in tho year In which to earn live thousand—ah, too great tho strain, I fear! They had so long to earn so little, but our hard life is such That wo havo little time to work in order to earn much. How rich our fathers woro—in timo—how prod igal and rush! What vast amounts of time they gave for smull amounts in cash. And how wo sigh for thoso old days of moder ate events. When ono hod fourteen hours in which to earn his fifty cents; But now we work like galley slaves, and wreck and waste our powers For Bixty cents in sixty seconds—ah, what a lifo is oursl —B. W. Foss. The first hringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing ofllce. —Shnkespearo. Toduy and Tomorrow. If Fortune with a smiling faco When shall wo stoop to pick them up? Today, my love, today. But should she frown with face of care. And talk of coming sorrow. When shall we grieve—if grieve wo must? Tomorrow, love, tomorrow. If thoso who wronged us own their faults. And kindly pity, pray; Wheu shall we listen and forgive? Today, my love, today. But if stcru justice urgo rebuke, And warmth from memory borrow, \\ hen shall wo chido—lf chide wo durel Tomorrow, love, tomorrow. If thoso to whom wo owo a debt And hurmo#unlesß wo pay, When shall we struggle to he Just? Today, my love, today. But if our debtor fail our hope. And plead his ruiu thorough. When shall wo weigh his breach of faith Tomorrow, love, tomorrow. If Ix)VO, estranged, should ouco ugain His genial smile display. When shall wo kiss his proffered lips? Today, my love, today. But if ho would indulge regret Or dwell with bygone sorrow. When shall wo weep—lf weep we must! Tomorrow, love, tomorrow. For virtuous acts aud harmless Joys The minutes will not stay; We've always time to welcome them Today, my love, today. But care, resentment, angry words And unavailing sorrow Coine far too soon if they appear Tomorrow, love, tomorrow. —Charles Mackay Flow on, Swift Stream. Flow on, swift stream, amid the flowera Flow on and dance with joy, And tell mo of tho happy hours When I was yet a boy. I watched theo with tho loved ones thou Now all alone I come again To wander by tho river; And I am old and they aro gone. But it unchanged is gliding on As young and bright as ever. Unchanged it seems, yet who ran stay The water's ceaseless motion? Tho little waves of yesterday Today have reached the ocean; Unmarked, unmissed, they swiftly fly; Unmarked, umuissed, we, too, must die And loave the mighty river. Where youth and joy and love and strifo And all t lie various modes of life. Flow on unchanged forever. -W. E. 11. Lecky War. Were half ths power that tills the world with terror, Were half tho wealth hestow'd on camps and courts Given to redeem thft human mind from error. There werouo need of arsenals nor forts. The warrior's name would he a name abhorr'd. And every nation that should lift again Its baud against a brother, on its forehead Should wear forevurwore the curse of Cain. for Infants and Children. "Cautoria is so well adapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, I recommend it as superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, known to me." IT. A. ARCHER, M. D., Kmd Bivoa Bloe P' P rou ">t di -111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. Without injurious medication. "The use of 'Castoria' is so universal and " For several years I have recommended its merits so well known that it seems a work your 4 Castoria, 1 and shall always continue to of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the do so as it iius invariably produced beneficial intelligent families who do uot keep Castoria results." witblu New York City. Tue Winthrop, Street and 7th Ave., Late Pastor Bloomiugdale lteforiued Church. New York City. THE CENTAUR COMPANY, 77 MURRAY STREET, NEW YORE. NINETEEN - YEARS - EXPERIENCE 111 Ijeatlier. Our stock i,s bound to go. There is nothing like slim figures to put it in motion. We have laid in a very large stock of seasonable goods. WE NOUGHT CHEAP—WE SELL CHEAP. A lot or goods turned quick at. close margin is good enough for us'. Now is the time to buy A Mo. 1 Goods—None Better on Earth At Very Close to Manufacturing Prices. We do business to live. We live to do business, and the way to do it is to oiler the very best grade of goods at prices that will make them jump. An extra large line of ladies' and gents' underwear just arrived. Call and see us. Thanking you for past favors, we remain, yours truly, Geo. Chestnut, 93 Centre Street, Freeland. YOU WILL FiXD US AT THE TOP IN THE (JLOTHIM LINE* _ A ith more fresh styles, low priced attractions and ser viceable goods than ever. The big chance and the best clmnce to buy your fall clothing is now offered. Our enormous stock of seasonable styles is open and now ready. Such qualities and such prices have never before been offered in Freeland. A thoroughly first-class stock, combining quality and elegance with prices strictly fair. Come in at once and see the latest styles and most serviceable goods of the season in MEN S, BOYS' AND CHILDREN'S CLOTHING, HATS, CAPS AND FURNISHING GOODS. The newest ideas, the best goods made, the greatest variety and the fairest lig ires. Everybody is delighted with our display of goods and you will be. Special bar gains in overcoats. Remember, we stand at the top in style, quality and variety. JOHN SMITH, _ b ' bkbeck f b R&P. E. M.'GERITZ, 23 years in Germany and America, oppoJi< the Cent la I Hotel, C mire Street. FreekuJ. Tin Cheapest Repairing More in town. Watches, Clocks and Jewelry, New "Watches, Clocks and Jewelry 011 hand for the Iloli. clays; the lowest cash price in town. Jewelry repaired in short notice. All Watch Re pairing guaranteed for one year. Eight Day Clocks from $3.00 to $12.00; New Watches from s■l.oo up. E. M. GERITZ, Opposite Central Hotel, Centre St., Fr slantl j 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. " I wish I had one." HORSt: GOODS. Blankets, Buffalo Robes, Har 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. GO TO Fisher Bros. Stable FOR FIRST-CLASS TURNOUTS At Short Notice, for Weddings, Parties and Funerals. Front Street, two squares below Freelund Opera House. IlliliiC MUMS SYSTEM. W-R— 7 LEHIGH VALLEY |DIVISION. ITIIANGEMENT OF ! PASSENGER TRAINS. ' MAY 15, 1898. LEAVE FKEELAND. I . J'-H'l 10.35 A. M., 12.25, 1.50, 2.43, 3.50. P. M., for Drift-on, Jeddo. I.UIII her ARD, Stockton ami lla/leton. '•.15, 0.4(1 A. M., 1.50, 3.50 P. M., for Mnueh ( Imnk, Allentown, Bethlehem, Phila., Huston New York V " ' lus no colln uction for delphia" M ' for I}ethlehcln ' Easton and Philn -7.20, 10.561 A. M., 12.10, 4.39 P. M. (via Highland PitM 1 ' ,l tyon, Glen Summit, YIVAM V' in I ()L I>?V ( L - ,ind • function! M - l()l Wick Hidgo and Tomhicken. SUNDAY TRAINS. Drltt ° n ' jL "" 10 ' .1 1., P. M. lor nrliuio. Mahnnoy City, Shon rtiKlouh, New York unci Philiulclpliln. ARRIVE AT FREELAND* 5.150, IUB, ;.:M, O.I:,, 10.311 A. M„ 12.10, 1.15, 3.83. u..it 1 and P. M. t'rmn Haolctoo, stock ton, Dumber Yard, Jeddo and Drift on. 7.20, 9.15, 10.50 A. M., 12.10. 2.33, 0.50 P. M. trom Delano, Muhunoy City ami Shenandoah (via New Boston Brunch). 1.15 and *.37 I'. M. from New York, Huston, Philadelphia, Bethlehem, Allentown and Munch Chunk. 9.15 and 10.50 A. M. from Huston, Philadel phia, Bethlehem and Munch Chunk. 9.15, 10.35 A. M., 2.43, (151.5 p. M. from White Haven, (Hen Summit, Wilkes-Barre, Pitteton and IJ. and B. Junction (via Highland Branch). SUNDAY TRAINS. , l| : '. 1 A. M. and 3.31 P. M. from Huzleton. Lumber i ard, Jeddo and Dnfton. 11.31 A M. from Delano, Huzleton, Philadel phia and Huston. 3.31 P M. from Pottsvllle and Delano, vi'eiits " l! iulur "Rßioii inquire of Ticket 1. A. SWHKI Alii), Gen. Mgr. ( . G. II AN COCK, Gen. Pass. Agt. l'hiladelphift. Pa, A. W. NONNHMACT 1 EH, Ass'tG. P. A., South Bethlehem, Pa,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers