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,