GRUB STREET, LONDON, 1739. O dingy street, where gonitis lit. Half clad, her torch, whero Johnson's wit Plowed through the pretense of his time, Whero Goldsmith built the lofty rhyme. And Savage died and Smollett writ. Whero Garrick, horn to charm the pit. First made the royal buskins fit. And trod the tragic stage sublime; O dingy street! A dreary street, no longer flit Starved authors in and out of it; They drudge no more iu gloom and grime. In dens of death, in caves of crime. To kinder fates they now submit. O dingy street! —J. N. Matthews in Albany Journal. A METHODICAL MAN. Love worketh wonders, as hath been said by various wise men before the present writer manipulated the sentence on his typewriting machine. It is remarkable that the T. P. (mean ing the tender passion) should have turned the methodical man's methodic alness to his undoing, as nearly hap pened in the case of Mr. George Peters. Love should have nothing to do with a man during business hours. There ought to be a placard to this effect hanging up in all well regulated business houses: Clerks In love are requested by the : : management not to tbiuk of the adored : : object between the hours of 0 a. m. and II ; |P. ui. By Order. : Now George Peters was a very me thodical person for so young a man. When a letter got into Petera' hands it went through a certain routine, and the answer departed from him to the copy ing book, and from the copying book to the envelope, and the envelope, letter and all, with iuclosures marked, went into the letter box with a regularity that nothing but the office clock could emu late, and even that, the clerks said, was not as regular as Peters, for they claimed it was always fast in the morning and mighty slow in pointing to <i o'clock. It is little wonder, then, that Peters stood so high in the confidence of old man Bentham. Bentham was Bentham Bros. & Co. There were no brothers and no company—that was merely the firm name—it was all Bentham. Per haps there once were brothers and per haps there was once a company, bu: that is all ancient history anyhow, and has nothing to do with this strictly mod ern story. And it did not interfere with the fact that old Bentham's name was u lovely thing to have at the bottom of a large check. The clerks never speculated on the probable effect of love on Peters because it never occurred to them that such a thing as Peters falling in love was with in the bounds of possibility. Love, they argued, was not an article that can be docketed and ticketed and referred back for further information and entered in the daybook and posted on the debit or credit side of a ledger, 'so what on earth conld Peters do with it if he had it? Manifestly nothing. If they had known as much about human nature as you or 1 they would have surmised that when Peters did fall it was time to stand from under. And who should Peters fall in love with but the very woman of all others whom he ought never have given a thought to—iu other words, pretty little Miss Sadie Bentham, if you please. It made Peters himself cold whon he thought of it, for he knew he had just as much chance of getting the moon or the laureateship as the consent of old man Bentham. The clerks always said that it was Miss Sadie who fell iu love with Peters, principally, I suppose, be cause she should have known better, and I think myself there is something to be said for that view of the matter. Anyhow she came to her father's place of busiuess very often and apparently very unnecessarily, but the old man was always pleased to see her, no matter how busy he happened to be. At first she rarely looked at Peters, but when she did flash one of those quick glances of hers at him poor Peters thought he had the fever and ague. He understood the J symptoms later on. I don't know how things came to a climax; neither do the clerks, for that matter, although they pretend to. Be sides, they are divided in their opinions, so I think their collective surmises amount to but very little. Johnson claims that it was done over the tele phone, while Farnam says she came to the office one day when her father was not there and proposed to Peters on the spot. One thing the clerks are unani mous about, and that is 'that Peters left to himself would never have had the courage. Still too much attention must not be paid to what the clerkH say. What can they know about it? They are in another room. Peters knew that he had 110 right to think about that girl during business hours. He was paid to think about the old man and his affairs, which were not nearly so interesting. But Peters was conscientious, and. he tried to do his duty. Nevertheless the chances aro that unconsciously little Miss Sadie occu pied some small portion of his mind that should have been given up to the concerns of Bentham Bros. & Co., and her presence where she had not the slightest business to be threw the rest of his mental machinery out of gear. It is very generally admitted now that the sprightly Miss Sadie managed the whole affair. No one who knew Peters would ever have given him the credit of proposing an elopement—"accuse him of it," as Johnson puts it. She claimed that while she could manage her father all right enough up to a certain point, yet in this particular matter she pre ferred to negotiate with him after mar riage rather than before. She had a great deal of the old mail's shrewdness —had Sadie. He used to say he would not like to have her as an opponent on a wheat deal. Then the clerks say—but liang the clerks! What do they know about It? As Farnam truly remarked, casting, a gloom over the rest as he spoke, "You may say what you like about Peters, but you can't get over the unwholesome fact j that none of us has got her." The gallingness of this undoubted truth was that each of the clerks thought himself a better looking mail than Pe ters. Well, to come to the awful point where Peter's methodicalness nearly upset the apple cart. The elopement was all settled, Peters quaking most of the time, and he was to write her a letter giving an account of how arrangements were progressing. It will hardly be credited —and yet it is possible enough when you think what a machine a methodical man gets to be that Peters wrote this epistle to his girl on his desk and put it in the pile of let ters that were to be copied into the old man's letter box! The office boy picked up the heap at exactly the usual hour, took them to the copying press, wet the thin leaves and squeezed them in; the love letter next to the one beginning: "DEAR SIR —Yours of the 23d received and the contents noted." Peters got the corner curled letters, still damp, and put them all in their right envelopes and Sadie got hers in due time, but did not know enough about business correspondence to know that her first love letter was written in copying ink and had been through the press. Next day when old man Bentham was looking over the leaves of the previous day's letters he suddenly began to chuc kle to himself. Old Bentham had a very comfortable, good natured, well to do chuckle that was a pleasure to hear Even Peters almost smiled as he heard it. "Peters!" "Yes, sir." "Have you all the letters, Peters, that these letters are the answers to?" "Certainly, sir." "There is one I want to see, Peters." "What is the name, please?" "Petty. I did not know that we dealt in this line of goods, Peters." "H. W. Petty, sir?" "I didn't know the initials. Here's the letter." Peters was stricken. He was appalled —dumb—blind. The words "Darling Petty" danced before liis eyes. He felt his hair beginning to raise. The book did not fall from his hand simply be cause he held it mechanically—method ically. Old Bentham roared, then closed the door so that the clerks would not hear his mirth. "That's one 011 you, Peters. It's too good to keep. I must tell that down at the club." "I wouldn't if I were you, sir," said Peters, slowly recovering his senses as he saw the old man had 110 suspicion how the land lay. "No, I suppose it wouldn't be quite the square thing. But of all men in the world, Peters—you! Why do you elope? Why not marry her respectably at the church or at home? You'll regret going off like that all your life." "Miss she—that is—prefers it that way." "Oh, romantic, is she? I wouldn't do it, Peters." "There are other reasons." "Father or mother against, as usual, 1 suppose. Well, you refer tlieni to nie, Peters. I'll speak a good word for you. But what am I to do while you are away?" "I—thought perhaps—perhajis—John son would take my place." "All right, I can put up with Johnson for a week, maybe, but think of 1110 and get back as ROOU as she'll let you." If old Mr. Bentham did not mention it at the club he did at home. "You remember Peters, Sadie. No, no! that was Johnson. Peters is in my room, you know. No, the redheaded man is Farnam. He's in the other room. Peters has the desk in the corner. Staidest fellow on the street. Ever so much older than I am—in manner of course. The last man in the city you would sus pect of being in love. Well, he wrote" —and so Mr. Bentham told the story. Sadie kissed him somewhat hysteric ally when he promised to suy a good word for Peters, and said he was very kindliearted. "Besides, papa, you ought to have a partner in the business. There is 110 com pany, you know." "Bless you, my child, what has Peters wedding to do with the company? He is taking the partner, not me. I can't take Peters into partnership merely be cause he chooses to get married." "Oh, I thought that was customary,'" said Sadie. There was no elopement after all. The clerks say that it was the conscien tious Peters that persuaded Sadie out ol it. But as the old man found he had to give way it came to the same thing. "Sadie," the old man said, "I think I'll change the name of the firm. I'll retire and it will bo after this, 'Bentham, Husband & Co.' "—Luke Sharp in Buf falo News. All Odd Way of Saving the Hair. Among the Sakkaras the women twist their hair into flat braids, which are lit erally covered with cowry shells or beads, and the ends arc then gathered above the head, forming a sort of bon net. The whole is drenched liberally with palm oil and sprinkled with red powder. At night the women go to sleep with their necks resting in a concavity that has been dug out of a small log, thus keeping their head wear from touch ing anything and thereby being disar ranged. Sometimes this uncomfortable pillow is hollowed out, the top of it be ing a lid, which when lifted off discloses a receptacle in which are kept the hair pins and other objects of the toilet.- New York Sun. Had Treated The in. A collection of cholera germs was ex hibited with microscopes at a meeting of male and female doctors in the Academy of Medicine one night. They had been prepared by Dr. E. K. Dunham and colored with aniline dyes in ordei that they might be observed to the best advantage. Some of the women pre tended to be a little nervous about going near them, and one roguish looking young woman remarked: "You are sure that those are not live germs, doctor? I do not want to catch the cholera." "The germs are dead," said the doctor, gravely. "I dyed them myself."—New York Tillies. The Hame Boy. if yonr boy amounts to a continental you will notice that when lie comes home evenings now his lips are stained a yel lowish brown and his lingers are the color of a fresh Egyptian mummy. You know what it means. You have had the same outlandish color on your own hands, no matter how white and soft they may be now. Boys are boys the world over, and the boy of today man ages to get out among the thickets in | the creek bottoms, much as the boy has | done for years and years. In the creek bottoms butternut trees grow large : trunks, broad, sweeping branches, sticky, I queer fruit and ample shade. By some I strong but wise provision of muture but ! ternut trees* always grow along the | creek banks, and stones are plentiful in | the streams. They are plentiful also be neath the butternut trees, for many •generations of boys carrying big flat stones to points where they would do the most good have brought Mohammed and the mountain close together. When your hopeful comes home with his fingers brown and his faco looking like a yellow fever patient's he has only been down to the creek bottoms. He has been climbing the crooked trunks and out upon the strong limbs of the butternut trees. He has stolen the de veloping milky fruit not yet ripe, but delectable, nevertheless, as the lips of a bride. He has gathered his store be neath the tree, and with a flat stone to hammer on and a carefully selected stone to hammer with he has sat and robbed the nut of its kernel and its ; stain. It is not very satisfactory to the j appetite. It is a good deal on the green ; apple order of feasting. The stains hang on the boy's hands for weeks. But what's the difference? Boys have eaten green butternuts since there were boys, just as ostriches eat glass or billygoats chew circus posters off the dead walls. Nobody can account for it any more than we can tell why a pig runs about with a wisp of hay in his mouth before a storm, or why a dog turns around be fore he lies down. It is enough that it is so.—Bradford Era. In the GruMp of a ISoa. "I have boon in some pretty close places," said David Mann, a member of the Munchausen club, that was reciting some thrilling adventures in the corridors of the Laclede. "When a boy of sixteen I left home between two nights and went on a cruise to India. Returning we had aboard the agent for a menagerie and quite a collection of beasts and rep tiles that he was bringing home for the great moral show. One night a boa con strictor, measuring eighteen feet, slipped his cable and went up the mainmast without anybody suspecting his escape. I was ordered aloft for some purpose, and in the darkness ran right onto the moustrons reptile. As my hand touched the great folds I came near falling out of the rigging. I did not know what it was, but I instinctively felt that it was something terrible. His snakeship did not leave me long in doubt, however, for lie took a turn around me, lifted me from my feet and held me aloft as a sportive elephant might a small boy. "My head was within two feet of the monster's month, and I felt as if every bone in my lxidy was snapping. Yell? The Confederate yell was a whisper to the ones I gavo. His snakeship began to descend with me, evidently intending to make a meal of lue on deck. The mate flashed a light on me, and when he saw the situation was so frightened that he rushed olf and locked himself in the room. Tlio boatswain was made of sterner stuff, however, and ho couie to my assistance with the carpenter's broadax and nearly cut his snakeship in twain at the first blow. lie dropped me and I got a fall that nearly finished me. The boa dropped to the deck and wont writhing up and down, lashing things right and left, while the crew pumped musket halls into him, despite the tear ful protests of the agent, who insisted that he was worth $2,000 laid down in New York."—St. Louis Globe-Democrat. The Care of tlie Finger Nulls. Hangnails, which, when not owing to negligent habits, are usually duo to dry ness of the skin, will disappear by de grees under careful treatment. The skin should not be allowed to intrude on the nail. When this occurs it must be delicately loosed with the fine blade of a penknife or a dull needle point and carefully trimmed, not cutting to the quick, however. All the horny growth about the corners must also be clipped away; ointment must be rubbed 011 the flesh around the base of the nail and when needful should be left on over night. This allays soreness, supplies nourishment to the skin and promotes a new and more healthy growth. White spots occasionally make their appearance on the nails. When these occur in large numbers they may be due to constitutional disturbances on which local treatmet will have no effect. Lo cally they are usually due to a slight blow or bruise, probably received un consciously, the effect of which will pass away in a short time.—Chicago News. Queen Elizabeth's llingN. Queen Elizabeth had an immoderate love for jewelry, and the description given of lier dresses covered with gems of the greatest rarity and beauty reads like a romance. For linger rings she had remarkable fonduess. Paul Ilentz ner, in his "Journey Into England"— 151)8—relates that a Bohemian baron, having letters to present to her at the palace at Greenwich, the queen, after pulling off her glove, "gavo him her ' right hand to kiss, sparkling with rings ami jewels—a mark of particular favor." —Detroit Free Press. An Island at Auction. Caldy island, off the Welsh coast, was put up for auction recently, but was bought in, as the bidding did not exceed £13,500. It has an area of 530 acres, and is opposite the fashionable watering place of Tonby. There aro a school and a church 011 the island, but it has no taxes, no minister, no doctor and no law yer. 'rli Electric Fire Engine. I AJI electrical application, which is only waiting until electricity can be as extensively distributed as water to be gonerally adopted, is the electric fire en j gine. It IB even now being used to a 1 limited degree. In an experiment at ! tho late Crystal palace electrical exhibi tion the motor was worked on a circuit at a pressure of 105 volts. With this pressure, when running at about 450 revolutions per minute, the pump pro pelled a jet of water from a 1-iuch noz , zle to a height of 10* feet, the water pressure being sevei pounds per I square inch. With two delivery hose pipes on at | once, having nozzles respectively one inch and seven-eighths incii, the motor ran at 550 revolutions per minute and i the pressure was forty-live pounds to the square inch, the two jets rising to a height of about eight feet. The com j bination of an electric motor and a [ pump has manifest advantages over the Bteam fire engine, provided a supply of current is available. In the case of the latter it is always necessary to keep up steam, so that time j will not be lost when an alarm is sound ! Ed, and the fact that the motor is in stantly ready for service as soon as a current is turnod on makes it obviously better adapted to many conditions. It is beyond question that the day will soon come when the distribution of elec tricity will be so general that the pump operated by an electric motor will be tho most important piece of fire fighting apparatus.—Pittsburg Dispatch. Russian Fatalism. One day a Russian village official was riding witli me in search of some strayed horses. The black soil was like dust, and ho sighed heavily as his mare sank in the light stuff. "Ah," he said, "what laud is this? It is like a woman broken with sorrow. How can she find food for her child?" "Has it been so all summer?" I asked. "Not so, indeed. There was frost in spring, and men said -Frost and fair weather.' But then came the dryness, and though mass was said in the fields, it went to nothing. And then we dug up the drunkards" "The what?" "Tho drunkards, your honor. Often it is, that when the drunkards are pulled out of their graves and flung into pools of water, that rain will como; we know not why. But not only rain came, bnt hail and fierce storm and fire, and with ered the little that was grown. Then after that, dryness again and now," he shrugged his shoulders, "the famine." "Must there bo famine?" I asked. "Surely," ho said with a smile; "the grain we have is soon eaten, and then what?" "Will no provision be made for the future?" "Who should make provision? Now wo can buy much and eat much; after ward—well, the little father will not see us die!" So depending on the czar and public charity, they rest contont in making no provision for the future.—Temple Bar. The Difference. "Whoa there, I say; whoa, you brute!" Tho man jerked his horse savagely, pulling him right and left for tho simple reason that when ho had left the poor animal a moment it had moved toward a spot of grass, which it began to nibble, when it was reined up by its angry master. At the same moment another man who had stopped his team opposite was lifting a dozen jolly boys and girls from his truck and dropping them gently on the grass. "Thank you, mister," they chorused as, smiling, he drove away. Out of the goodness of his heart he had treated them to a ride. His neigh bor vented his bad temper on his horse. The conditions of the men were paral lels, but their souls were as far apart as the poles. Smiles and scowls indicate the moral temperature.—Detroit Free Press. An Error in the Lord's Prayer. A party of gentlemen were the other evening discussing literary subjects when one asked another to point out the grammatical blunder in the Lord's Prayer. Half a dozen tried; some thought it lay in the words, "which art in heaven;" others placed it elsewhere, but not one detected it in tho expression, "For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory." To be perfectly correct the word "is" should be "are," but people havo used it in the present form so long that they never think of regarding it as a blunder. There are teachers who say such an expression is right, because it sounds right, but reverse it and say, "The kingdom, the power and the glory is thine," and the fault is soon perceived. —St. Louis Globo-Demncrat. A Summer Without Nights. To the summer visitor in Sweden there is nothing more striking than the almost total absence of night. At Stockholm, j tiie Swedish capital, tho sun goes down a few minutes before 10 o'clock and rises again four hours later during a greater part of the month of June. But the four hours the sun lies hidden in the frozen | north are not hours of darkness—the re '■ fraction of his rays as lie passes around [ the north pole makes midnight as light I as a cloudy midday, and enables one to | read the finest print without artificial light at any time during the "night."— St. Louis Republic. A Good Koason. J First Boy—Wliy do they call all goats billygoats and nannygoats? Why don't they call 'em Georgia goats an Johnny j goats and Jimmy goats, an so on? j Second Boy—Why, goats looks BO | mnch alike you can't tell 'em apart, so j wot's the use of bavin diff'rent names? —Good News. Good lu Theory, but— Mrs. Newage—Why don't girls learn J their father's business and be independ- I ent? j One Girl—Please, ma'am, my father j is a telegraph lineman.— New . York 1 Weekly. GEMS IN VERSE. The Touchstone. I toM mine enemy the truih. His brow At lii*Ht grew stern, nnti from hi? angry eye I'bo lightnings flashed. I tut soon he spake: "•Tis now 1 see 1 judged you falsely. Wrong was I! Forgive me for the past, and let us forth To roam thro' peaceful meads, all strife at end!" So arm In arm we went—no longer wroth— The truth had made mine enemy a friend! 1 told my friend the truth. He bravely smiled. And with a gracious courtesy averred, "Your candor pleases me!"—yet 'neath his mild And glad exterior a something stirred. Which plainer said than words: "We are es tranged Forevermore. Your lance hath wounded me Host all redress!" Love had to hatred changed; The truth had mude my friend an enemy! —Eleanor C. Donnelly. My Psalm. I mourn no more my vanished years. Beneath a tender rain— An April rain of smiles and tears— My heart is young again. The west winds blow, and singing low I hear the glad streams run. The windows of my soul I throw Wido open to the sun. No longer forward nor behind I look in hope or fear. But, grateful, take the good I find— The best of uow and here. I plow no more a desert land To harvest weed and tare. The mauna dropping from God's hand Rebukes my painful care. I break my pilgrim stuff; I lay Aside the toiling oar; The angel sought so far away I welcome at my door. The airs of spring may never play Among the ripening corn. Nor froshness of the flowers of May Blow through the autumn morn. Yot shall the blue oyod gentian look Through fringed lids to heaven. And the pule aster in the brook Shall seo Its linage given. The woods shall wear their robes of praise, Tho south wind softly sigh. And sweot, calm days in golden haze Melt down the amber sky. Not less shall manly deed and word Rebuke an ago of wrong; The graven flowers that wreathe the sword Make not the blade less strong. But smiting hands shall learn to heal- To build us to destroy— Nor less my heart for others feel That 1 the more enjoy. All as God wills, who wisely heeds To give or to withhold. And knoweth more of all my needs Than all my prayers have toldl Enough that blessings undeserved flare marked my erring track; That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved His chastening turned me back; That more and more a Providence Of love is understood, Making tho springs of time and sense Sweet with eternal good; That death seems but a covered way Which opens into light. Wherein no blinded child can stray Beyond tho Father's sight; That care and trial seem at last. Through Memory's sunset air. Like mountain ranges overpast In purple distance fair; That all the Jarring notes of life Seem blending in a psalm. And all the angles of its strife Slow rounding into calm. And so tho shadows fall apart. And so tho west winds play, And all the windows of my heart 1 open to tho day. —Whittier. Hamlet on the Wardrobe. All tho world's a wardrobe. And all the girls and women merely wearers. Thoy have their fashions and their phantasies. And one sho in her time wearß many garments Throughout hor seven stages. First tho baby, Befrilled and broidered, in hor nurse's arms; And then the trim hosed schoolgirl with hor flounces, And small-boy scorning face, tripping, skirt waggling, Coquettishly to school. And then tho flirt. Ogling like Circe, with a business uiilladu Kept on hor low cut corset. Then u bride. Full of strango finery, vestured like an angel. Veiled vaporously, yet vigilant of glance, Seeking tho woman's heaven—admiration- Even at the altar's steps. And then tho ma tron, In fair, rich velvet, with suave, satin lined. With eyes Hevere and skirts of youthful cut. Full of dress saws and modish instances. To teach her girls their part. The sixth ago shifts Into tho gray yot gorgeous grandmamma. With gold pincenez on nose and fan at side. Her youthful tastes still strong, and worldly wise In sumptuary law, her quavering voice Prosing of fashion and Le Follet pipes. Of robes and bargains rare. Last scene of all. That ends the sex's mode-swayed history. Is second childishness and sheer oblivion Of youth, taste, passion—all save love of dress. The liappiest Time. Whenever life's song is out of rhyme. And fate and my plans won't thrive, Then I love to muse on that glorious time— The time when I wasn't alive. Those dear old days! How they haunt mo yot With dreamsof content and bliss. When there wasn't a hurt I could possibly get Nor a Joy I could lose nor miss- When 1 let the years and the ages flee In the most unaccounted way. And never looked in tho glass to seo If my hair were growing gray. They may prate of the wondrous things that are Which existence alone can give. But I know that my happiest days by far Were the days when I didn't live. Nor would 1 compare tho pleasure shown In the present frivolous scene With tho endless raptures that were not known. The bliss that has never been. What wonder that still I love to speak Of this kingdom grand and free. That vanished away at the first wild shriek Of the infant known as tnel I don't care a Jot how fortune flows To the men on each side of me. For the fellows I envy the most are those Who have not begun to be. —Madeline S. Bridges, Tears. Not in tho time of pleasure Hope doth set hor bow. But in tho sky of sorrow. Over the vale of woe. Through gloom and shadow look we On beyond the years. The BOUI would have no rainbow Had tho eyes no tears. —Century. Do Your llest. Let each man think himself an net of God, His mind a thought, his life a breath of God, And let each try, by great thoughts and good deeds. To show the most of heaven he hath in him. The Joys of meeting pay tho pangs of absence. Else who coul/l bear it? -Howe, for Infants and Children. •'Castoria is so well adapted to children that Castoria cores Colic, Constipation, I recommend it as superior to any prescription |L < ? 1 l f r Stomach, Diarrhcea. Eructation, known to me." 11. A. ARCHER, M. D., 08 BLOEP ' AND V™"*oteo dl 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 u work your * Castoria,* and shall always continue to of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the do so as it has invariably produced beneficial intelligent families who do uot keep Castoria results," withiu easy reach " EDWIN F. PARDBH. M. D., CARLOS City. "Tho Winthrop," 12& th Street and 7th Ave., Lute Pastor Bloomingdale Reformed Church. New York City. THB CENTAUR COMPANY, 77 MURRAY STREET, NEW YORZI NINETEEN - YEARS^XPERIENCE Xir Xeatlier. Our stock is 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 BOUGHT CHEAP—WE SELL CHEAP. A lot of goods turned quick at close margin is good enough for us. Now is the time to buy A No. 1 Goods —None Eetter 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 offer 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 FIND US AT THE TOP IN THE CLOTHIM LINE® With more fresh styles, low priced attractions and ser viceable goods than ever. The big chance and the best chance to buy your fall clothing is now oifered. 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 figures. 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,RKBECK F B R R E , E C L K AND . H. M. BRISLIN, UOE'RTAKER EMBALMER. 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." HORSE : GOODS. Blankets, Buffalo Robes, Har ness, and in fact every thing needed by Horsemen. Good workmanship and low prices is my motto. GEO. WISE, Jeildo, and No. 35* Centre St. Advertise in tlie Tribune. GO TO Fisher Bros. Live^Slable FOB FIRST-CLASS TURNOUTS At Short Notice, for Weddings, Parties and Funerals. Front Street, two square* below Freelaud Opera House. BEADING RAILROAD SYSTEM. ftrtx , LEHIGH VALLEY DIVISION. I * ARRANGEMENT OF 11\ PASSENGER TRAINS. FL MAY L/, 1R92. LEAVE FREELAND. | 8.15, 8.4), 9.40, 10.35 A. M m 12.25, 1.50, 2.4,1 3.50 5.1"', (1.115, 7.U0, 3.47 I*. ,M., for Drlfton, Jcddo! r.uinlii'i- 5 urd, Mocklnu und llu/.letun (1.1.5. '.1.4(1 A. M„ 1.50, 3.511 4'. ,M for Munch ( liiink. Alii■!] 1 own. itctliichcin, I'hlln., Huston Ntov York 1 " 110 comi,ct ' ,m l'or ilelphiu' N '' '" r I!o "iU.lioin, Eaaton and Fhlla ; 7.211, 10.58 A. M„ 12.10, 4.3 ft P. M. (via Highland ' Wilklwtt IUI no'l'i 0 Hu V°"' Glou Summit, . r\\i r N nl L - ai,d B - JuneUoiu i 0.15 A. M. lor Pluck Hidgo and Tomhlcken. SUNDAY TRAINS. 'i " ? nd 'Ml* M - for Drlfton, Jeddo, Lumber \ urd and Hazleton. ] 8.4;> P. M. for Delano. Muhnnny City, Shcn i aadotth. New York and Philadelphia. ARRIVE AT FREELAND. 5.50. 6.52, 7.20, 0.15, 10.50 A. M., 12.10,1.15,2.83. ! 4.80, 0.50 and 8.87 P. M. from Hn/Jetnn, Htook j ton, Lumber Yard, .leddo and Drilton. <.20,0.15, 10.50 A. M., 12.10. 2.88, 4.89, 0.50 P. M. j from Delano, Mulmnoy City and Shenandoah i (via New Huston Brunch). 1.16 ami 5 .37 I*. M. from New York, Boston, | Philadelphia, Bethlehem, Allontown and I Maueh Chunk. IMS ami 10.50 A. M. from Fasten, Philadel phia, Bethlehem and Maueh Chunk. I 9.15, 10.85 A. M., 2.48, 0.8.5 P. M. from White Haven, (Hen Summit, Wilkes-Burro, IMttstou und L. and B. Junction (via Highlund Branch). SUNDAY TRAINS. 11.31 A. M. and 8.31 P. M. from Hazleton. Lumber l ard, .leddo and Dnfton. 11.81 A. M. from Delano, Hu/deton, Philadel phia aml Boston. 8.81 P. M. from Potlsville and Delano. , further information imiuire of Ticket I. A. SWFJGAIID, Qon. Mgr. O. 0. HANCOCK, Gen. PUBS. Agt. Philadelphia, Pa. A. W. NONNEMACHEIt, Ass't G. P. A., ! South Bethlehem. Pa,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers