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,