FIIEELAND T 111 BUNE. PUBLISHED EVEKY MONDAY AND THURSDAY. TIIOS. A. IUJCKLEV, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. OFFICE: MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. SUBSCRIPTION RATES. One Year 8 1 Six Months Four Months Two Months ' Subscribers are requested to watch the date following the name on the labels of their papers. By referring to this they can tell at a glance how they stand on the books in this oflicc. For instance: G rover Cleveland 28Junc04 means that Grover is paid up to June 38, IWU. By keeping the figures in advance of the pres ent date subscribers will save both themselves and the publisher much trouble and unnoj- 1 ance. f Subscribers who allow themselves to tan in arrears will be called upon or notified twice, ; and. If payment does not follow within one f mouth thereafter, collection will be made In the manner provided by law. FREELAND, PA., AUGUST 17. , ■ t COUNTY CONVENTION. Official Call Issued by the Democratic j County Committee. j Under authority of a resolution adopt cd at a meeting of the Democratic coun- I ty committee of Luzerne county, held at Wilkes-Barre, Saturday, June 10, 1803, ' the regular annual Democratic county convention is hereby called to meet in the city of Wilkes-Barre, on Tuesday, August 22, 1893, at 10 o'clock in the fore noon, to nominate candidates for the offices of: First, one candidate for coun ty treasurer; second, one candidate for register of wills; third, one candidate for county controller; fourth, two candi dates for county commissioners; fifth, two candidates for county auditors, and it>r the transaction of such other busi ness as may properly come before it. The delegate elections in the several districts will be held on Saturday, Au gust 19, 1893, between the hours of 4 and 7 o'clock p. m. at the usual polling polling places. Blank forms of credentials will be for warded to the judge of election of each district, and credentials must in all cases be made up on such forms. In accordance with the rules of the party, the chairman and secretary of the county committee will sit at Ex change hotel, Wilkes-Barre, from 7 to 10 o'clock on the evening,of Monday, August 21, and from 8 to 9 o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, to receive credentials, issue delegates' tickets and make up the roll for temporary organi zation. All delegates arc requested to report promptly upon their arrival. T. C. Mullally, Jno. S. McGroarty, Secretary. Chairman. It is said there is a tribe in Africa where speakers in public debate are required to stand on one leg and are not allowed to speak longer than they can stand in that position. With all our boasted civilization we discover every now and then points in which savages surpass us. Take the single taxers out of the People's partv, and the. e would le little loft of it hut gabbling old gran nies and monopoly agents. Take tl.e single taxers out of the Democratic party, and nothing of its moving force would remain hut spoilsmen. — .Vatt Francisco Star. Women passed around little musliu hags at the Maryland Prohibition state convention, requesting that the delegates woultl deposit in them one cent for each birthday they had pass ed. As there was only one woman delegate, there was not much resent ment at the suggestion. The soundness of a beam or log can be accurately determined by the sense of hearing alone. The ear; should be applied to one end of the beam, while the other is struck with a hammer. If the sound is clear, j distinct and sharp, the beam is sound in every part; if dull or muffled, decay has set in somewhat iu the interior. Judge Barbour, of the Hartford police court, having dismissed a representative of the Courant from the court room on the ground that his "course as court reporter had I been contemptuous," the C'oitrant vouches for his ability and accuracy, and says that tho newspaper, in its news capacity being merely a mirror of life, Judge Harbour should not take reflections of himself UB roflec tions on himself. The first grand parade of the un employed of New York city will be 1 held on Labor Day, September 2, and the originators of the display expect to have fully 100,000 workingmen without work in line that day. This will be the first demonstration of its kind in any large cily. Various trades have at times parades of their unemployed, but the coming one is to : be the only general parade yet seen. It is in order to have explanations as to the cause of so many men being idle. The McKinley law is still in full blast and the great protective tariff is untouched. Why, then, should workingmen be idle, if all we have heard ahout protection is true ? Its no use to indulge in baby talk about tho silver scare. That does pot explain the matter. Sw®im© in. With The =~|SmiiLiL If'y /<\ [Copyright, 1893, J by the Author. 1 '. , ' : [ for Dives, revcl- 'P in " in P ur P le /•/i l\ ii v''l n* fi ne linen i 11 If J J andf ur 1 "iI Ai&rH every clay, with U6p everything about him calculated to make life pleasant, to sit in his arm-chair and talk in a grandiloquent way about the cowardice of the suicide. If Dives had been in my shoes on a certain night in the merry month of May, some few years ago, and felt the pangs of hunger as 1 felt them, I fancy somehow he would be strongly inclined to modify his opinions. Hungry? I was hungry! And when at two o'clock in the morning, having tramped it from Cambridge, I flung my self down on the grass just outside the grand stand on Newmarket Heath, I felt so utterly done up, faint and ex hausted, that I would have gladly wel comed death in any shape or form at that moment. Well born, and my early days passed *n the lap of luxury, there I lay like a .log, hungry (I had neither had bite nor >up for twenty-four horn's) with no money to buy food, and without a friend or relative in the world to lend me a helping hand; and yet Dives and his friends would have called mo a ioward had I put an end to my wretch ed existence. It was lucky that I had not the means to do so—not even a pocket knife—that memorable May night, otherwise the trainers when they came I on to the Heath with their horses in the early xporning would have as suredly found something that they would not have cared about looking at twice. Bodily exhaustion, as a rule, pro duces sleep, but very often, if it is too pronounced, it has a precisely opposite effect. So it proved in my case. Faint and weary, as I was, the repose I so much needed flatly declined to come to my rescue. So I lay awake, thinking, thinking— always thinking; now of the past, now of the future- for I was still young, and, downtrodden as I was, still capa ble of building castles in the air. It was one of these palatial edifices I found myself building now, odd though it may seem. One of the trainers at the headquar ters of the turf had taken me up and given me a position of trust in his es tablishment. One of our horses had won the Cesarewitch and Cambridge shire, and I, beside "standing in" with the stable when they backed him, had won a small fortune by supporting him at long odds, for the double event, on my own account. The whole thing seemed so real that 1 felt for the mo ment quite buoyant and happy, and should in all probability have shortly gone off into a tranquil doze, when all of a sudden the sound of human voice in the distance and the unmistakable tramp of horses' feet fell upon my ear. It would not be daylight for at least an hour yet. Who could they be? Now, I was well-versed in turf mat ters —in faet, to speak the truth, it was in a great measure my partiality for the sport of kings that had brought me to the position I found myself in; con sequently on bringing my mind to bear on the subject, I very quickly solved the riddle—or thought I had, at all events. Yes, I had, I felt sure. The only possible excuse for a trainer bringing his horses on to the Heath at this hour of the morning was to bring off a trial, and what was more a very important one. The tune of year, too, just ten days before the Derby, was all in favor of my theory. Yes, it was a Derby trial 1 that was coming off, I felt convinced, and what was more I meant to witness it- How I chuckled to mj-self as I crawled along the grass like a snake until I reached the rear of the stand, well out ; of sight, when I ventured to peep out. There, standing exactly opposite the ! racecourse itself, were fivo horsemen, j One I recognized immediately dark as t it was as a well-known trainer who had j a prominent Derby favorite under his I charge; the other four, three of whom were mounted on thoroughbreds, hooded and clothed, were evidently I jockeys. The morning was still, and 1 could hear every word the trainer uttered. "You know what to do now, don't you?" said he, addressing a jockey who was astride a chestnut with two white hind legs. "Frank will make the paeo as hot as he can with the old horse, and if you can hold him all the way on the young 'un, heat him at the finish, < or even run him close, the Derby's all ; over but shouting. So now cut away, my lads, down to the starting post. I'll I stop here, exactly opposite the judge's | box, and Bob Joyce will start you." Not another word was said. The trainer took up his position, the others cantered away down the course, and last, but not least, I crawled on all fours from my hiding place, and crept along under cover of the darkness until 1 I had taken the trainer in flank. He was in front of the judge's box; I was just beside it | That was the only difference between ; us. A faint yellow light just appeared ou the horizon, denoting that daylight would soon be with us, when a slight noise in the distance caused his cob to prick his ears and the trainer to turn his head sharp to the left, and peer into the darkness. "They're off I" I heard him exclaim, as the sound of horses galloping could I now be plainly heard. ' On thi£ nearer and nearer. , Crack, went a whip. Some one was calling on his horse for an effort. The next instant the three horses flashed past us; the chestnut with the white hind legs first. The trainer gave his thigh a triumph lint smack, as he exclaimed: "By the Lord Ilarry, hut he's a stone better than I thought he was." Now was my time for action, and I seized it. "I congratulate you, Mr. Snaffle," was all 1 said. Short speech as it was, it was quite enough to nearly make the trainer tumble off his horse with astonish ment, x "W-w-whero did you come from— and what business have you here?" he stammered, grasping his hunting whip at the same time in rather an ominous manner. "Never mind, sir, where I came from," replied I, coolly, "but I don't in the least mind telling you my business on the Heath this morning. I came here expressly to see the butterfly Colt put through the mile for the Derby, and I congratulate you, now I have witnessed it, on having such a good horse in your stable. Good morn ing, Mr. Snaflie." "Here, not so fast!" exclaimed the trainer. "I'm not going to let you gc like this. Come, you don't look quite so well to do in the world as you might; what will you take to come to mj house straight away and remain there until, say, four o'clock this afternoon? After that I'll give you leave to go away and tell all about the trial to everyone you meet Will you take five hundred?" "Down on the nail, and the promise of another monkey if the Butterfly colt wins the Derby and I'm oh," was my reply. "Done!" said the trainer, holding out his hand for me to shake. "Don't say a word to the others," he whispered, "but come along 1 with me at once." I was in no hurry to leave the worthy man,as the reader may guess; on the con? trary, no leech was ever more anxious to cling to a human body than I was to him, had he known. I accordingly hung on to the trainer's stirrup and trotted by his side as he went off to join the horses, who had now pulled up and were waiting for him. Silence was the order of the day, but there was a very satisfied look on everybody's face that spoke more elo quently than words, as the order for "march" being given the small troop of cavalry, Mr. Snaffle and myself taking up the rear, moved off towards the "top o' the town," where the trainers' stables were situated. That worthy did not want to lose sight of me, it was very evident; for no sooner had he jumped off his hack and handed it to a lad, than seizing me by the arm he said: "Now, my man, come into the house and let you and I have a talk." The jockeys, who by this time had dismounted, seemed rather astonished as they glanced somewhat, cemtemptu "l CONGRATULATE YOU, MR. SNAFFLE." ously at my general get-up and appear ance, which I need scarcely say had been allowed to run to seed terribly of late, but whatever their thoughts were they took care not to express them. You see they know how to hold their tongues at Newmarket. My story is done. Suffice it to say that whilst I was in his house, on pa role as it were, the trainer "did" me uncommonly well—the breakfast I ate that morning was a caution—and kept his word to the letter as to monetary arrangements. After all, said and done, the sum I was paid for holding- my tongue was not a penny too much, for the large commission that was worked that very morning all over London could never have been executed at the good price it was, had I chosen to open my mouth. However, as long as I was satisfied that, was all that was necessary. The Butterfly colt won the Derby, and as I had backed him on my own account for a cool hundred, beside the "monkey" to nothing I was put on by the stable, I felt remarkably comfort able when settling day arrived. I invested my earnings in a share in an S. P. book in a manufacturing town in I the Midlands, and a very profitable con i cern it is; so profitable, indeed, that 1 1 rarely if ever back one now. If I do, it is one in my old friend Snaffle's stable, 1 you may depend. A Patient Man. "You're a scientific man, ain't you?" ne said. "Yes." "Do you think, honestly, that it's ; possible for a man to prolong his life?" I | "Assuredly." ; " Well, Cap., take me under trainin' right now. I'll sign a contract for a Hundred years with the privilege of re newal at the end of that time." "Why, man, I can't undertake any thing like that. What do you want to live so long for, anyhow? Any sensible man would get enough of this life in I eighty or niuety years." "Maybe he would; but it's a matter of curiosity to me." "What do you mean?" "Well, you see, the government owes me money. Ain't any doubt about its owin' the claim at all. An' somehow er other I've got a fool idea that I'd like to be on hand to see It paid."—Wash- I ingtonStar. DAISY-FROST AND ASTER-SNOW. Jn childhood's fair and gladsome clime • Thro' realms of Innocence we go, Whose ev'ry mead is gemmed with rime Of daisy-frost and aster-snow I No .dream have we of colder drifts As, tow'rd the magic gleam and glow Of hope, we move through od'rous rifts Of daisy-frost and aster-snowf Ah, happy, happy childhood days, Whose fragrant zephyrs geqtly blow; Whose leas are blanched where'er we gaze With daisy-frost and aster-snow 1 There song birds thrill the radiant hours; There sparkling draughts of gladness flow; There we look forth from jeweled towers 'Pon daisy-frost and aster-snow I Alas, that life should ever bring The hours when roaring tempests blow: When joys, affrighted, cease to sing 'Mid daisy-frost and aster-snow! But soon, so soon we hear the sigh Of swelling winds! How quickly grow The dark-plumed clouds that gloom our skj O'er daisy-frost and aster-snow! Our shaken towers dissolve to dust. And ashen heaps around us show How frail are joys in wnich we trust, Like daisy-frost and aster-snow I Ere ngo has come with chaplots hoar, We've laid so many sweet faiths low, And learned how transient is the storo Of daisy-frost and aster-snow I But there's a land of lasting cheer, Where faith's fruition we shall know, And reap the harvests cherished hero 'Neath daisy-frost and aster-snow! —Virginia S. Haller, in N. Y. Observer GOTse* [Copyright, IW3, by the A u thoa ] vu/iflwWA Mi I ,lEN ho had Ay\mh \llll i I co^oc^ the fair Wjj WMwJlij. | implements of If\ v /J' JillI ill his trade, Tho %MM ili arjsfz II I w! I portant tool of I I ft J I ' \' $ slim, and put It in a separate pocket. Three months ago the law decided that a miscalculation in the prosecution of one of his contracts had been atoned for, and set him at liberty. He carao to the city where nobody knew him. And yet it was the city where he had lived and loved years ago. Now, on his return to it, his new piece of business was to be prosecuted in the house of his one-time employer—who had treated him so badly, and whom, in some of his various moods, he accused of making him what he now was. Was there revenge In this present act against the old man? No. The old man had simply proved his greater strcngtli that time he paid for Tlie Tiger's wife's divorce, after he had trumped up a wholly false accusation of dishonesty against her husband —an<X then married her himself. It was bitter cold in the streets, and the snow was falling. And there was the house! It was too soon, yet, though. He would go round the corner—to that pile of debris opposite the old brew ery that was utilized as a church a Hand of Hope, or something like it—and gain shelter until the proper time. "Oh!" cried a voice. He had gone along, his head bent to the storm, and under a gas lamp he had run against a young woman. She dropped a package. He picked it up, and found that it was a music book. She thanked hira and went on; his black-garbed form was soon swallowed up in the dimness. She was young, and the night was not always kind to such as she. He reached the old brewery in time to see her go in. The pile of boards} the shelter he had thought of, was -just across the way. nc went there and waited. Suddenly a strain of organ music swung in to him. The girl organist was playing before service began. Surely he had heard that tune before. He had once played the organ, and that had been one of his tunes. Now she was at another tune—Handel's "Largo." That had been little Annie's favorite. Just such a night as this he would come in from the old man's books, and after a bit of supper he would go into the parlor and play for little Annie while ner beautiful restless mother would look at fashion books and sigh because she had not the means to get the pretty things she wanted. He threw his hand to his head. What did this mean?—the girl played the third of his old tunes! He had had them bound together; they ran in this order: "Traumerei," the "Largo," "Warum." The girl was playing them from the book she had dropped and he had picked up for her. Ho knew who she was! Then the desire for the revenge he believed he had not thought of sprang up within him. The old man! the old man! The box under the bedl To the devil with that! 'There was greater wealth than that to take. From its pocket he took the long, thin steel, and clutched it in his hand. His child to shrink from him —his little Annie; who used to love him sol Annie! An -1 nie! Hark! That music should speed ! him on his mission—the music he hod t taught her! lie plunged through the snow to the brewery and peeped in at the door. There she was, in her black frock, seat ed before the organ. He had not seen her for twenty years. She had been a wee child when he last saw her; but he knew the facfe, so like her mother's. Yes; that music should be the old man's i requiem! He turned his eyes out into the snowy ! night. Was it smoke he smelled? Was the brewery on tire, and she in danger? No; but the gray cloud came charging through the snowy air, so freighted with its bolls of silence. Fire! Once he would have done what he could to help. Annie! and that look I in her eyes!—her musicl She thought of i him as a wretch, a convict Even though she should never know, he must do something for her. lie sprung away; he tore along the deserted way. lie found the house, a little tongue of beautiful flame licking the outside darkness. The door was locked. lie pressed his shoulder against the timber, once, twice, and it yielded. He was in the hall, thick with smoke; he had gained the room where the fire was—burst open that door as well. Then he remembered and under stood. The knife was in his hand still. The old man was in the room frantic ally looking for the key of the lock. The old man turned and saw him and recognized him, and lifting a heavy chair sent it crashing through a win dow. The air rushed in and nourished the flame. Through the broken win dow came a low, dull tone of music— Annie playing in the old brewery, the congregation singing. The Tiger shook. Annie would never own him, would turn from him in hor ror. Hut he must do something for her. What? The old man was shrieking his name —trying to climb out the high window to escape from him. The Tiger had dragged the box from under tho bod and pitched it through the window. He knew what he should do for Annio —the greatest thing a man could do, though she should never know it. The old man was clinging to the win dow, frantically calling Tho Tiger's name, and eying that knife in his hand. The Tiger went toward him. "Who made me what I arn?" he said. The knife dropped from his fingers, and he seized the old man, who fought him, calling his name—calling "murder!" The Tiger's coat was wrapped round the old man's whitened head; ho was fighting his way through the crack ling timber of the hall. The stairs were gone; with his struggling burden he took an awful leap, going through a fiery, seething hell. There was a sharp pain in his eyes—a sudden darkness in the golden fire—and he was groping along, flame stinging him, smoke smothering him! Hut ho found tho doorway; he was out in tho snow—tho old man was saved I There were voices out there —the old man's voice, calling his name, calling "murder!" as he reached his box—and then all the world fell away. When the world next came back to The Tiger he knew that they had carried him into the old brewery. He was inexpressibly weary, and felt like sleeping peacefully; and peace had so long been a stranger to him. "Brother," said a voice in his ear; "it was nobly doncl The man you saved THE TIGER "WENT TOWARD^ has told the story. Hut you are terribly Injured, and we fear " "nushl" said a soft voice. The Tiger tried to raise his hand, but he found that another hand held it "Fatherl" said the soft voice who had said: "Hush!" —"Fatherl" She broke down, and it was a little while before she could proceed—and what confusion was in The Tiger's brain! "Father," then said the soft voice, "I have never forgotten you. I have always loved you. I play your music— the music you used to play for me. Do you remember? And you will never leave me now. 1 will stay with you till you— Ah! we are all alone, you and I, for I am wearing black for—mother." She leaned over and kissed his scarred lips—the first kiss he had felt in twenty years. lie was very weary; he knew he must shortly sleep; he could not keep awake. He slowlj' and painfully drew the hand that clasped his up to his face and placed it across his eyes that could not see. A tear rolled down his blistered cheek, but it was not his. "Father!" He was too sleepy. "For Annie," he managed to whisper. "I thought of Annie, and the music!" He really cou?d not keep the sleep off any longer. "Father," she said; "Father!" Slzo In Files. To convince householders that th small flies on their window-panes nevei grow to bo large ones—in fact, never gyow at all—is a task of no little diffi culty sometimes. The difference of size in flies is always the distinction of sex or species, but never of age. With the exception of the gradual unfolding of its crumpled wings, no change comes over the aspect of the fly from the mo ment of its birth from the chrysalis to that of its death. A big fly is no more a little fly grown up than a horse is an I old pony, or a goose a fully-developed I duck. All the growth of the fly is ac ! complished in the maggot state; then a | short period of somnolence as a smooth, I brown chrysalis intervenes, from which | finally the young fly springs, like ; Minerva from the head of Jove, full ! sized as well as fully armed.—N. Y. ; World. Disqualified. To be a great historian one must be endowed with what is known as the "historic imagination," but he must | also bo on his guard against abusing it. • "John," said the- teacher, "in your I essay upon Georgo Washington you i say that he was not fond of fishing. What is your authority for that asser tion?" | "Why," answered Johnny, "we have j always been told that he could not tell ' a lieu"—Chicago News. KELLMER PII T APiiac;®! The Finest Specialties in the Photographic Art. For Finish We Can't Be Beat; Wf T I T (iI T A I) A vnir/ljl BUTTER WORK THAN CAN BK lIAH ' ' ' hh ' AU A 1 lAIN J lj 111 ANYWHERE ELSE IN TIIK;RRUION. 13 West Broad Street, Hazleton. LEHIGH VALLEY DIVISION. " Anthracite coal used exclu- I si vely, insuring cleanliness and ARRANGEMENT OF PASSENGER TRAINS. MAY 14, 1803. LEAVE FREELAND. 6 05, 8 47, ft 40. 10 41 u m, 12 25, 1112, 2 27, 3 45, •I 55, 0 58, 7 12, 8 47 p m, lor Drlftnn, Jeddo. Liiui er Yard, Stockton and linzlcton. 0 05 a m, 1 3 15, 4 55 | in, lor Munch Chunk, Mlcntown, Bethlehem, l'hila., Huston and New York. 0 Hi a m for Bethlehem, Eaaton and Phila. 7 20, 10 56 a in, 12 10, 4:14 p in, (via Highland ranch) tor White Haven, Glen summit, Wilkcs arrc, Pittston and L. and 11. Junction. SUNDAY TRAINS. II 40 a m and 3 45 p in for Dril'ton, Jeddo, Lum er Yard and Ha/.leton. 345 i m for Delano, Mnhanoy City, Shcnun oali, New York a'nd Philadelphia. ARRIVE AT FREELAND. 660. 7 Oil, 7 20, 0 18, 10 56 a m, 12 10, I 15, 213, 4 34, 058 and 837 p m, from lla/.leton, Stockton, Lumber Yard, Jeddo and Driltou. 1 20, It 18. 10 50 a ill, 2 13, 4 34, 658 p in from Delano, Mahunoy City and Shenandoah (via New Boston Branch). I 15, i .">8 and 8 37 p m from Now York, Kaston, Philadelphia, Bethlehem, Allcntown ami Muuch Chunk. 18 und 10 50 a in, 1 15, 0 58 and 837 p in from Huston, Phila., Bethlehem and Munch Chunk. 0 18, 10 41 a ni,2 27,0 58pm Ironi White Haven, (Hen Summit, Wilkes-Barre, Pittstouund L. ami IS. Junction (via Highland Branch). SUNDAY TRAINS. II 31 a in and 331 pm, from Hazleton, Lum ber Yard, Jeddo and Dril'ton. II 31 a m from Delano, Hazleton, Philadelphia und Euston. 3 31 p in from Delano and Mnliunoy rep ion. For further information inquire of Ticket Agents. C. G. HANCOCK, Gen. Puss. Agt. i'liiludclphiu, Pa. A. W. NONNEMACHEK, Ars'tG. P. A. South Bethlehem, Pa. The Delaware, Susquehanna and Schuylkill R. R, Co. PASSENGER TRAIN TIME TABLE. Taking Effect, May 20, 1803. Eastward. STATIONS. Westward, p.m. p.m. a.m. a.m. a.m. p.m. 5 :K) 1 (12 742 Sheppton 718 1011 329 A ( 5 35 1 08 7 48 L ) 7 12 10 05 L) 1227 52 Oneida A \ 966 323 545 1 23 803 Humboldt Road 701 040 312 547 125 805 Harwood Road 050 0378 10 2j 5 ® 130 si" "-'-'"-Tct. Saliiur. 0 02 B. Meadow Road 6 28 Oil Stockton Jet. 010 021 Eckley Junction 010 0 :W Drilton 0 00 Dr. H. E. Nyer's DENTAL PARLORS. H. W. MONROE, Manager. CAMPBELL'S BUILDING, CENTRE STREET. Teeth filled and artifieial teeth inserted. Painless extraction. Reasonable price* and all work guaranteed. HERE'S A BARGAIN. One of the best located properties on Centre street, Five Points, is offered at a sacrific. Any person de siring to make a paying in vestment should investigate this. A line, well-built two-story building, £3x44 feet, conluhiing a dwelling and back kitchen, also a storeroom. 23x18 feet. A good stable, 14x18 feet, is on rear of bit. The owner lias good rea sons for wishing to dispose of (lie property, and the purchaser will be given easy terms. For further infor mation Al'l-LY AT THE TRJIIL'N'K OFFICE. A DIG STOCK OF WAGON UMBRELLAS, FLY NETS, LAP SHEETS, EAR NETS, Etc., I Oil haiul at WISE'S. > .A.ll Kinds ; of From $6.00 Up. :! GEO. WISE. 5 No. 35 Centre Street, Freeland. l | Also Jeddo, Pa. SPECIAL SALE in Straw Hats. All Straw Hats at Half Price. 100 Hats for 50 Cents, Etc. Special Drive in Dress Goods. Double Width, One Yard Wide, for 0 1-2 Cents a Yard. Thousands of Other Such Bargains. Call and See the Balance. .J a C. 35EHXEK. CITIZENS' BANK OF FREELAND. CAPITAL, - $50,000. OFFIOERB. Joseph Birkbeck, President. 11. C. Koons, Vice President. 11. It. I>nvis, Pushier. John Smith, Secretary. DIRECTORS.—Joseph Birkbeck, Thos. Hirk ooek, John Wngiier, A. ltndewlek, 11. C. Koons, Chus. Duslieck, John Smith, John M. Powell, .-!d, John Burton. Three per cent, interest puid on saviiiK depi isits. Open dally from ou.m.to 4p. ra. Wednesday evenings from 0 to 8. W. L. DOUGLAS $3 SHOE noTUP. Do you wear them 7 When next In need try a pair. Best in the world. ♦ MOOJf \2.50 43.50 If you want a fine DRESS SHOE, made In the latest styles, don't pay $6 to SB, try my $3, $3.50, $4.00 or $5 Shoe, They fit equal to custom made and look and wear as well. If you wish to economize In your footwear, do so by purchasing W. L. Douglas Shoes. Name and ; prlco stamped on the bottom, look for It when you buy. W. L. DOUGLAS. Brockton, Mm*. Sold by i John Smith, Birkbeck Brick.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers