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.