y 'urn. *.ti. ■n. - " hear me tell r-Hr The Christmas *—tale ho loves so well— A tale raj mother told to me Beginning "Once upon a time." It Is a tale of skies that rang With angel rhapsodies sublime: Of that great host, screno and white, The shepherds saw one winter night— And the glorious stars that sang An anthem once upon a time. This story of the hallowed years Tells of the sacrifice sublime Of One who prayed alone and wept While His wearied followers slept— And how His biood and Mary's tears Commingled once upon a time. And now my durling at my side And echoes of the distant chime Bring that sweet story back to me, Of Bethlehem and Calvary, And of the gentle Christ that died, For sinners once upon a time The mighty deeds that men have told In pouderous tomes of fluent rhyme Like misty shadows fade away; But this sweet story bides for aye; And like the stars that sang of old, Wo sing of "Once upon a tima" —Eugene Field, in Chicago Saturday Evening Herald. e:llilll!lli> thinjf very about it," said excited Mrs. passive hus band. "For Augusta to give it out that she was going so far to visit some one she had never seen, and start off in spite of our remonstrances upon the appointed day, and then suddenly to reappear and admit she hadn't been where she said she was going, but yet to keep her whereabouts for those two days a secret from us—l tell you, it's very queer! And such a cold as she has brought back with her! Well, it will be a mercy if it doesn't end in pneumonia and carry her off. But, then, Augusta's head was always full of the queerest crotchets/' she ended, breathlessly, "and you never could tell what slio was going to do next." That Augusta Van Allien was eccen tric to a degree was the unanimous pinion of her nearest relatives. But to many a poor soul she seemed a verita ble angel of mercy—if a small, middle aged angel can be imagined, in widow's eap and spectacles! In reality, the lit tle woman had a passion for doing "nice things" for others, and being blessed with a liberal portion of this world's goods she was able to follow her generous inclinations, and was never so happy as when planning to give some one a pleasant surprise. Her plan for this particular holiday scuson had been to make a "Merry Christmas" for the family of a poor and distant cousin. She bad never seen this cousin, nor any of her family, but she had somehow managed to learn the names and ages of her eight children and she had solidly packed a huge box with comfortable jackets and shawls, and hoods of various sizes, and many other nice and appropriate things, and had so crammed the chinks with books and dolls and paint boxes and tin toys and trumpets, that the porters who put it 011 board the train vowed it must bo loaded down with lead. When Mrs. Van Allien's sister TTail heard that she was going to travel two hundred miles in midwinter and take Henrietta Marlow by surprise, instead of spending her Christmas comfortably and soberly at homo with them, she had solemnly declared to her husband that she thought Augusta must be crazy, to which ho had made the saga cious reply that for a crazy woman his sistor-in-law certainly seemed able to manage her own affairs remarkably well. Early on the morning of the day before Christmas, Mrs. Van Allien, with her unwieldy box of gifts, had started on her journey in a gentle snowstorm; and all went well, though the storm steadily increased in violence, just before noon, when the engine ran into an enormous drift and there stuck fast. Soon all the women and children on the train had been gathered together in the oar where Mrs. Van Allien was sitting, and for awhile she amused her self by studying them with kindly eyes. Hut by and by, when they began to give a louder expression to their disap pointment at the delay, she came to tho rescue, and with her cheery temper and the contents of her liberally-stocked lunch basket, she succeeded in quieting the complaints and raising the spirits of most of the despondent snowbound mothers and their uneasy children. At first they had all expected that the engine would be able to push its way through the drift and go on in tho course of a few hours; but it soon be came apparent that there was no pos sibility of getting through that night. It even began to be hinted that it would bo impossible to proceed on tho following day, unless the storm abated. And there were rumors, too, that tho fuel was running low, and that there were ntvprovisions on board. At this the murmurs of the blockaded (travelers grew loud again, for it WM hot a pleasant prospect to be obliged tc spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day cold and hungry in a snow-drift in a deserted part of the country. The afternoon wore slowly on. There was no communication with the out side world, for the storm had beaten down the telegraph wires, and the for aging party which had started out some hours before had not returned. Mrs. Van Allien, all this time, went flitting from group to group, dropping crumbs of comfort on every side, and endeavoring to replace complaints with at least a semblance of content. Hut the weary children were fretting because they "wouldn't be anywhere for Christmas, and wouldn't have any Christmas till Christmas was all over." Then a new and charming possibility opened itself to Mrs. Van A1 lien's busy brain; and presently she was seen in earnest consultation with the conduc tor and the porter, and after that they all three vanished into another car. The proceedings after this were so delightfully mysterious to all of the children, and they were so taken up with wondering what was going on, that they quite forgot to fret One end of the car had been hastily curtained off with shawls, but one child, peep ing was sure he had seen the branch of a great groen tree. All of the mothers had now been taken into Mrs. Van Allien's confi dence, and several of the older girls had been called upon to help, behind the shawls. The excitement among the children momentarily increased, and just as the darkness of Christmas Eve was enfold ing the wearied and supperless passen gers in the dimly-lighted train, down came the screening shawls, and a bril liantly-lighted Christinas tree burst on their bewildered gaze. Then such a shout went up as filled tired little Mrs. Van Allien with keen delight. O Cousin Henrietta Marlow and your eight children! You little dreain how the unexpected gifts so carefully pre pared for you are being scattered now! Your coats and shawls will serve to keep these little suow-bound children warm through the long-eoming night; and your toys and bright picture books •will while away the otherwise tedious hours of their long cold Christmas day. There had been a general invitation 3 MRS. VAN ALLIEN HAD FOUND SOMETUINQ FOR EAtU. given to everyone upon tho train, and no one, young or old, was forgotten. Mrs. Van Allien had found something in her seemingly inexhaustible treas ure box that was appropriate for each. Even the conductor was presented with a handsome pocketknife; and tho brakeman who had so gallantly plunged through tho deepest drifts to cut dowu tho Christinas tree had anew warm muffler wound about his neck, by her own hands. If they had been Mrs. Van A1 lien's chosen guests in her own homo, the evening could not have passed more merrily. And for the time no one gave his or licr personal discomfort or ilis appointment even a passing thought. When the lights 011 the tree bad at last burned out, and the sleepy chil dren were about to be tuckea into their impruvised beds, Mrs. Van Allien sat resting upon her now empty Christmas chest, with licr eyes fixed dreamily upon the dismantled tree. Turning at last, she beckoned the conductor to her side. "Something has been worrying me," she said, in her rapid way. "The foraging party has not returned, and I cannot rid myself of the dreadful idea that those poor men may be lost and wandering about, half frozen, in the "More likely they have found com fortable quarters in some farmhouse for the night, and early in the morning they will turn up, bringing supplies for our breakfast," was tho reassuring answer. "Perhaps so," she assented, doubt fully. "Hut still, there is the other chance, and I feel that something ought to be done. Maybe it's only a woman's foolish fancy, but won't you do me this favor? Get that obliging brakeman to help carry out 'this tree, which has served its purpose here, and somewhere —at a safe d stance from the train—set it on fire. There's just a chance it may prove a beacon light; and anyway, I'd feel so much better to see it done." Not any of the men would have de nied this little woman anything that she might ask, no matter how absurd the request might appear to them. So the dismantled tree was carried out, and dragged far up on the top of the drift, and there they touched it off and left it, blazing* wildly up towards the black and stormy sky. It was late in the afternoon before the foraging party had reached the little settlement, several miles a\vay, and after getting well warmed and rested they had started out on their re turn, carrying plentiful supplies for their fasting comrades 011 the snow bound train. But in the early twi light they had missed their way, and after hours of aimless wandering through the pathless snow, chilled and overcome with drowsiness, they had thrown themselves down to sleep, even though they knew that to sleep then might mean to perish. They never dreamed that they had almost reached their goal, round which they had been circling for so long. Suddenly, through his half-closed eyes, one of their number saw a light Hash out in tjio distance, and, half dreaming, he fancied it a star. At that moment he was a child again in his father's house, and it was Christ mas Eve. Ills mother bent over the bedside and tucked the blanket close around her boy, and OI how warm it seemed' Her good-night kiss was pressed upon his brow, and as she left the room she drew the curtain back so he could see the sky, whence one bright star shone down upon him through the silent night. "Ilis star in the east," perhaps, and as he remem bered the sweet old story the star grew brighter still and seemed to beckon him, like a Heavenly guide. Then the dream faded away and con sciousness came struggling back through the bewildering numbness which nearly mastered him, but still the star gleamed on. A star, a light, a beacon fire, a refuge close at hand! With difficulty he aroused his sleeping comrades,, and they raised their shout for help. The wind caught up the sound and carried it across the great white sheet of snow to ears that were strained with listening. Then came shrill answering cries of encouragement, and brave men came plunging onward through the rlrifts in haste to find and aid in bring ing in the wearied and half-frozen lit tle band. Happy tears were glistening in Mrs. Van Allien's eyes that night as she lay , on her improvised bed of cushions un- j 3er the great-coat of the kind con ductor, for she knew that there was not a soul on board that train, but had sailed a blessing down upon her and her wonderful Christmas tree. With the first rays of the Christmas sun, for the storm had ceased in tho night, and tho morning sky spread its clear dome of blue above the sparkling whiteness of the snow, help came, with snow-plows and gangs of willing men. It was unlooked-for luck, and the passengers eagerly congratulated one another, for there were few among lliem who would not be able now to reach their homes in the course of Christmas day. Ilut during the wake ful, wee small hours of the night, little Mrs. Van Allien had suddenly changed her plans. It was of no use to go on to Henrietta Marlow's now, she thought, for her Christmas box was empty. And so she luid decided to bid her fellow travelers farewell ut' the first stopping place from which she could take a train that would carry her back to town. There were tender good-bys ex changed when the parting caine, with many grateful woras, and children's kisses and warm embraces. Mrs. Van Allien stood smiling and waving back to them from the little wayside station, while the train slowly rolled on anil carried them one and all out of her sight and life. "What nice people they all were," she said to herself, "and such good, happy children, bless them. Well, the more I see of the world, the better opinion I have of the people in it I didn't get to Henrietta Marlow's after all, but I declare I never had a lovelier Christmas in all ray life. But how sur prised Caroline and John will be to see me back so soon," she mused, "and when they know but they sha'n't know a word about it, they'd only call it 'another of Augusta's vagaries,' and they'd have too many disagreeable things to say. I know they think I'm very queer, but they are just as queer themselves and dreadfully curious. Now I'll just give them something to wonder over and puzzle themselves about this time, and I won't tell them one single word." So Mrs. Van Allien suddenly reap peared and seemed in the best of spirits in spite of her heavy cold. But she kept to her resolution, and though I her sister and brother-in-law were I amazed to see her back so soon, and she \ was obliged to admit that she had "not : spent Christinas with Henrietta Mar low after all," she told them nothing more. In spite of all their endeavors to find out, she kept the reasons for her change of plan, as well as her whereabouts on Christmas clay, com pletely shrouded in mystery. She often chuckled in secret over Caroline's j baffled curiosity, and thoroughly en j joyed her petulant declaration that "Augusta was certainly growing queerer every day." Henrietta Mariow received tho sur prise of her life on New Year's morn | ing, when a great box was set down before her door. It was filled with sin gularly appropriate and welcome gifts —the duplicates of those with which Mrs. Van Allien had adorned her im promptu Christmas tree. A delightfully chatty letter accom panied it, which contained the follow ing sentence: "It was at one time my Intention to have taken you by surprise on Christmas day, my dear and un known cousin, but Providence having mysteriously disarranged my plans, I have now decided to defer my visit un til the spring."—Judith Spencer, in N. Y. Observer. THE OLD RURAL CHRISTMAS. Thing* Were Different In the Old Day* Vet Children Were Very Merry. llow many of the young people know that some forty years ago nine-tenths of the children in America had to enjoy Christmas with only such sums as they had saved up for months, often a penny at a time? Yet so it was. Not one father in ten thought of giving a boy "Christmas money;" the big family din ner and such fun as cost nothing was enough. Indeed, save for candy and firecrack ers, there was little to spend money for. "Robinson Crusoe" and "Parley's Tales" were almost the only story books, though the people had some old standbys on their shelves, and the "Old English Reader" was, like other poor, always with them. There were "Moral Lessons," a few, and tracts enough; but no gorgeously lettered volumes of child ish song, no fairy stories shining in covers of blue, green and gold. The story that artists for tho earliest juvenile books had to label their pic tures "This is a horse," "This is a cow," etc., is no doubt an exaggera tion, but the toys really needed It Many a little girl made a dolLby dress ing up a crook-necked squash. "Rag babies" were the rule. A doll such as any child of parents above the grade of paupers may now have for Christmas would then have excited the amaze ment of the neighborhood, and a doll that would open and shut its eyes well, language is lacking to set forth the furor such a wonderful creation would have excited. It is an actual fact that the purchase of such n doll by order from Cincinnati r—at a cost of two dollars—was made matter of church discussion in one town as late as 1848. "Tho neighbors" finally decided It was all right, as the man's little girl was an invalid and needed amusement. She certainly got it, if company was any amusement, for every child for miles around was crazy to see that doll. As for paying ton dollars for a doll, the people would have asked the court to name a guardian for the man who did it, as one unlit to manage his own affairs. Pen dollars would buy an acre of good timbered land in half of the country. Wood carving was an envied accom plishment in those days. The "hired hand" who had some skill with a jackknife had a crowd of children after him on all possible occasions; the father who could carve a human-look ing figure out of walnut baric was a hero to his family.—N. Y. Mail and Ex press. YOUR WIFE AT CHRISTMAS. She finds all business matters new. To lior finance Is strancre; A hundred-dollar bill or two She calls a little change. Tach day the dinner is on time, No word sho answers back; She shows thut she can act subllmo To get a sealskin sacque. Although her taste you'd not deny, You must admit It mars The season's Joy to have her buy You neckties and cigars. Sho makes you drink of sorrow's cup To gain the kid's applause; # For now she likes to rig you up To look like Santa Claus. Though ready for the yearly strike. It hits you rather funny; She wants to know first what you'd like; Then ask* you for the money. —James J. O'Connell, In Judge. CHRISTMAS CRINKLES. >ome Pertinent Remark* on Seusouuble Que* Hons. It requires no outlay of money to wish people a tnerry Christmas. Don't give yourself to more than one girl as a Christmas present. Dou't spend in gifts the money you owe your wash-woman. Presents are not numerous in the homes where the parents carefully teach their four-year-olds that Santa Claus is a mythical personage. Price-marks on Christmas gifts are not to be regarded as emblems of ver acity. The woman who can circulate most through the stores the first three weeks of December can approximate more closely the value of the presents her friends receive.—William Henry Sivitcr, in Puck. Tliolr Christmas Gift*. "I thought it better to get you some thing useful," said Mr. Dossill to his j wife, "so I have brought you a couple of good brooms for your Christmas present" "That was very thoughtful of you, my d<sar," replied Mrs. Dossill. "I share your ideas, and have bought you a good strong coal scuttle for you to carry up fuel from the cellar in." Judge. —lt is the girl who says she doesn't believe in accepting presents from youug men who is most likely to be popular this mouth. —Washington Star. 1 Ills Invariable Rule. ••Dear Miss Mildred," wrote the young editor, "I find it impossible to tell you by word of mouth what I have been long-in# for months to say. My palsied tongue refuses to do the bid din# of my will when 1 am in your presence. I am under tire necessity, therefore, of a writing- to j r ou to tell you ! how inexpressibly dear to me you have become and to ask if you will consent to be my wife. In replying- please be brief, omit the discussion of unimpor j tant topics, and write only on one side i of the sheet."—Chicago Tribune. Ilia Reason. The Sixth Michigan cavalry, of the jrenowned Custer brigade, was com manded by a gallant colonel, formerly ft member of the Michigan bar. In the early morning of the last day at Gettysburg, while,his regiment,with others, was in line awaiting orders, ,the men grew noisy in their conversa tion and laughter. Turning nervously to them, the colonel roared out: "Keep silence there!" Then he added, in an apolo getic tone: "Not that I care, but it will sound better." * Vet lie Gave It the Shake. Uncle Allen had dropped into a cob bler's shop for repairs. As he rose up after putting on the mended shoe he prilled the chair up with him. "That lump of wax," said the shoe maker, "seems to have formed a strong attachment for you." "I don't reciprocate," replied Uncle Allen, "but I confess I'm a good deal stuck on this chair." —Chicago Tribune. VARIABLE AS TIIE WINDS. Mr. Younghusband (singing, with great expression)—l love thee! I love thee! with a 1-o-v-e that cannot die! with a 1-o-v-e that— Mrs. Younghusband (interrupting)— Henry, I want a hod of coal right away! Mr. Younghusband (with still great er expression)—Oh! go to the dickens' —Truth. Comparison. " Ah!" said the man, with bated breath, Who llvod with his third scolding wife, "You talk about tho 'Jaws of death,' TUoy're nothing to the Jaws of life." —Judge. Not Left in Doubt. Neighbor—l hear your father intends to put- up a new house. Who is his builder? Hoy—What's that? "Why, tho—er—one who bosses tho job!" "Oh! Why, ma, of course."—Good News. What 110 Wantoil. "I tell j f ou, Parker, money is scarce." "Don't get scared. I'm not ffoing to dun you for that ton dollars you owe me." "Oh, I wasn't thinking- of that. I was fixing to ask you to lend me an other ten."—lirooklyn Life. lloth Right. Tommy (taking a big bite of apple pie) —Mamma, cook and 1 have been argu ln\ She says the middle part of the pie is the tilling and I say it's all fill ing. Which one is right? Mother (smiling)— Well, my boy, I should say you were both right.—Har per's Young People. A Sure Indication. Grocer—Those new people on the hill must have come by their money very recently. Customer—What makes you thiuk so? Grocer—Why, they pay their bills Just as promptly as if they were living on a salary.—Detroit Tribune. What 11c Had Hoped. "Promises, like pie crust, were made to be broken," said the Summer Girl, when she broke the engagement. "Yos," said he, gloomily; "but in this ease I had hoped the promise would be like some of the pastry at our board ing-house. " —Puck. Labor. Regie—l heard papa say the other day that labor is sweet and noble. Mamma—So it Is, Regie. Regie—Then, mamma, why does papa hire a man to out the grass while he sits 011 the piazza and only looks on? Harper's Young People. Ilia Affection*. First Boy—Which do you like best, your father or your mother? Second Boy—Well, I like my father best, mostly, but I like my mother best at mealtime.—Good News. A Mathematical Proposition. ''What arc you cyphering?" said the fair typewriter to the bookkeeper. "I cypher you," was the replj'. lie got her. —Rochester Democrat and Chronicle. _______ A Really Pleasant Topic. Dicker—Don't talk shop; let's speak of something pleasant. Ticker—What did your mother-in-law die of?— Brooklyn Life. Poor na a Church Mouse. Jess—Jack told me last night that my face was my fortune. Bess— How very unkind of him.— Brooklyn Life. Accomplishment*. "I can dross myself I" bragged Willie. "And I," said Bobble, proudly, "lean wipe my own uoael'—Brooklyn Life. MISERY AND COMPANY. | A Dog an<l a Cat Who Are Wonderfully- Attached to Each Other. ' Misery loves Company. Misery is a | brindle cat, and Company is a big* Nevv i foundland dog. I They were raised and lived very hap j pily for some years in a shanty high U P on rocks Q * |lis "WHY DON'T YOU KEEP STEP?" Harlem; but times have changed with them now, and they are in a fair way to become tramps in the wide world of unclaimed cats and dogs. Some days ago the people of the shanty were forced to move away, and a blacksmith's shop was built upon the rocks; then a wagon load of large steam drills was hoisted up and piled alongside of it; and in a few months a row of tall modern houses will stand in the little shanty's place. When the owners moved away, they left Misery and Company all alone to take care of themselves as best tliey could; and their trial would have be gun before now if it were not for the children in the neighborhood, who have so far kept them supplied with bones and pieces of meat and bread— for Company is one of those great big good-natured dogs that would not harm a mouse, and he has made many friends among the little boys and girls near by, whom he is always ready to play tag with, or even to ride around I on his back. During school hours Misery and Com pauy pass their time very quietly to gether, wondering what has become of their owners, and wandering about over the rocks in search of them. At night they crawl under the shanty, and Misery curls herself up close against Company and goes to sleep, as a kitten does with her mother. Company is always first to wake up in the morning, but he is care ful not to disturb Misery until she begins to stretch herself and is ready to rise; then she walks around him, rubbing herself against him and pur ring, as if to say: "Come, let's take a walk;" and they start oIF together, side by side, to take a ramble before breakfast. As Company's legs are very long, Misery finds it hard work to keep step, and it is very funny, as they are trot ting along together, to see Company looking down sideways at Misery with a great deal of admiration, but still in a reproachful sort of way, as if he were saying: "Why don't you keep step?" Although Company neverminds how ever roughly the children may play with him, he is very jealous and un easy if any one of them tries to catch Misery; he will then give a gruff kind of a bark, which the girls and boys all understand very clearly to means "That's my cat, and you must be very careful of her."—J. R. Smith, in St Nicholas. CLEVER SPIDERS. How They Reached Land After Having Ileen Set Adrift. A naturalist took a large spider from his web under the basement of a mill, put him on a chip of wood and set him afloat on the quiet waters of the pond, lie walked all about the sides of lii.% bark,surveying the situation very care fully ,and when the fact that he was real ly afloat and about a yard from shore seemed to bo fully comprehended, he looked out for the nearest land. This point fairly settled upon lie im ! mediately began to cast a web for it. Re threw it as far as possible in the air and with the wind. It soon reached the shore and made fast to the spire" I Df grass. Then licturned himself about j and, in true sailor fashion, began to I haul in hand-oVer-liand on his cable. Carefully he drew upon it, until his | bark began to move toward shore. As ! It moved the faster, he the faster drew upon it to keep his hawser taut and ' from touching the water. Very soon he reached the shore, and, quickly leaping to terra ftrma, sped his way homeward. Thinking that lie might he a special ■ expert and an exception in that line of boatmanship to the rest of his com- I panions, the naturalist tried several spiders. They all came to shore in like I manner. What Farmer Fetors Heard. "Fine sermon, wasn't it?" asked one of Farmer Peters' boarders, referring to a scholarly discourse with which the McadowVille meeting house congrega tion had been favored that morning by a city clergyman. "Mobbe," returned Farmer Peters. "Why," persisted the boarder, "that ! man knows more about the Bible, hn j has made a deeper study of Biblical history and geography, 'than almost any other minister in this country." "Has ho, now?" inquired Farmer Peters, mildly. "Well, then, I reckon the trouble must'vo been with me. You seo I'd cal'lated I sli'd hear somcthin' about the way to Heaven, an' 1 only learned the way from Jerusalem to Jericho." Ita Proper fan. Mamma—Here you are, outing noth ing but meat, and 110 bread. What do think bread was put in the world for, anyhow? llobbio— I hope you won't think mc impertinent, mamma, but I think it was put in tlic world to be saved up to make bread pudding of.—Harper's Young People. RICH FRUITS AT THE ROOTS. J ((fit as sure an the rivera run to the sea no the tide of trade rune to the counters of the ; merchant who advertises. Look at this: FURNITURE and CARPETS SLAUGHTERED. j From the 15 th last until January Isi 1 i will sell you , Our Gse Ingrain, all wool filled Carpet, for 55c. I Our 50c Ingrain for 42Jc. i Our 40c Ingrain for 33c. j Our 35c Ingrain for 20c. i Our #1.25 Brussells for $1.05. Our $1.15 Brussells for 074 c. Our SI.OO Brussells for 85c. Our 85c Brussells for 75c. Our 75c Brussells for Gsc. Our 95c Brussells for 55c. A $75.00 combination bedroom suit, SOO. A 50.00 walnut bedroom suit, $40.00. A 40.00 antique oak suit, $32.00. A 35.00 antique oak suit, 20.00. A 30.00 antique oak suit, 25.00. A 25 00 antique oak suit, 22.00. A 21.50 antique oak suit, 18.50. A 05.00 parlor suit, rug, 55.00. A 45.00 parlor suit, black hair. $35.00. A 45.00 parlor suit, crushed plush. $35. A 50.00 parlor suit, wool plush, $40.00. Side boards, centre tables t extension tables and thousands of other useful articles in the furniture line. For the balance of this month we will give you TEN PER CENT. OFF ON ALL BLANKETS. and 50 per cent, off on all coats left from last year. This means A SIO.OO ladies' coat for $5.00. Can you afford to miss all thisf Toilet chamber sets, worth $4. for $2.50. G'hcupt r than any cwr offered in the coun ty. NOTIONS and HOLIDAY GOODS tee are aiming to have just what you want far cheaper than you dreamed of —consider- ing quality. We hare a large stock of shoes to select from; the Oneigsburg shoes for chil dren; every pair guaranteed; call and see them. GROCERIES ~ and PROVISIONS. 20 LBS. GRANULATED SUGAR, $1.00: Shoulders. 11c; Cheese, 10c; Butter. 300 Lard. 131,0; Salt herring. 5c lb; Salt bad dock.DO lb; 3lb bologna, 25c; 3 lbs mix ed cakes, 25c; 5 Bis rice. 25c; 5 lbs bar ley. 25c; 8 lbs ffinger cakes, 25c; 4 lbs soda biscuits, 25c; Mint lozensrers, 10c lb; Mixed candy. 10c lb; Stick candy, 10c lb; 5 cans sardines, 25c; 2 cans sal 111- oil. 25c; 3 qts beans, 25c; 3 qts peas, 25c; f '' ,s drfcoru 25c; 5 lbs currants, 25c; 3 lbs raisins, blue. 25c; 5 lbs raisins, 25c; Bonny Hour, $1.85. Yours truly, J. C. BERNER. LEIIIGII VALLEY RAILROAD. tm-—Anthracite coal used exelu f sively, insuring cleanliness and 1 com tort. ARRANGEMENT OF PASSENGER TRAINS. NOV. 19, 1803. LEAVE FREELAND. ft 05, 8 40, 0 33. 10 41 ft m, 1 20, 2 27, 3 45, 4 55. 6 58, 7 12, 847 |> m, fur Drifton, Joddo. Luml bcr Yard, Stockton and lluzlcton. ft 05, 8 40 a m, 1 20, 3 45 i> m, for Maucli Chunk, Allentown, Bethlehem, l'hila., Huston and New fork. 0 40 a in, 4 55 p m for Bethlehem, Huston and Phila. 7 20, 10 50 a m, 1233,4 34 p m, (via Highland ranch) tor White Haven, Glen summit, YVilkes t'arre. Pit tat on and L. and 11. Junction. SUNDAY TRAINS. 11 40 a m and 8 45 p in for Drifton, Jeddo, I.inn er Yard and Hazloton. 345 n in for Deluno, Mahanoy City, Shenan doah, New York and Philadelphia. ARRIVE AT FREELAND. 5 50, 7 18, 7 20, 0 10, 10 50 a m, 12 88, 2 13, 4 34, 658 and 837 pin, from lia/leton, Stockton, Lumber Yard, Jeddo and Drifton. v ln.V, a in, 13, 4 34, ft 58 p m from Delano, Mahanoy City and Shenandoah (via New Boston Branch). 2 13, ft 58 and 8 37 n m from New York, Easton, Philadelphia, Bethlehem, Allentown and Mauch Chunk. 0 10 and 10 56 a tn, 2 18, 6 58 and 8 37 p m from Huston, l'liila., Bethlehem and Maucli Chunk. w, 10 41 a in. 2 27, ft 58 p in from White Haven, Glen Summit, Wilkes-Burre, I'ittstonund L. and B. Junction (via Highland Branch). SUNDAY TRAINS. 11 31 n miand 331p m, from Hazicton, Lum ber 1 tird, Joddo and Drifton. II 81 a in from Delano, Ilazieton, Philadelphia and Hast on. 3 31 p HI from Delano and Mahanoy region, for further information inquire of Ticket Agents. GHAS. S. LEG, Gcn'l Agent, It. H. WILBUR. Gen. Supt. East. Plv.!" lU '* U * A. W. NONNEMACHER, Ass'tG. P. A., South Bethlehem, Pa. R J H E DELAWARE, SUSQUEHANNA AND A SCHUYLKILL RAILROAD. Titne tablo ill effect September 3,1803. Trains leave Drifton for Jeddo, Eokley, Hazlo Brook, Stockton, lleaver Meadow Road, ltoan and Hazicton Junction at 0 00,6 10 am, 12 10, 4 Oil p in, daily except Sunday, and 7 03 a in, 2 38 p m,Sunday. Trains leave Drifton for Hurwood, Cranberry, Tomhickeii and Dcringer at ft 00 a m, 12 10 p m daily except Sunday; and 703 a m, 2 38 p nT Sunday. Truing leave Drifton fnr Oneida Junction, Hurwood Hottd, Humboldt lioud, Oncidu mid sheppton at tl 10 am, 1310, 4 Oil pm, daily except Sunday, and . OB a m, 3 38 p m, Sunday. I rains leave Ha/.leton Junction for Hurwood, Cranberry, Tomhlcken and Dcringer at 0 37 a m, 1 ID p m, daily except Sunday; and 8 47 a m, 4 18 ]> m, Sunday. Trains leave Ha/.leton Junction for Oneida Junction, Hurwood Bond, Humboldt ltoad, Oneida and Sheppton at ft 47,0 10 a in, 12 40, 480 p m, daily except Sunday; and 7 40 a m, 308 p m,Sunday. Trellis leave Dcringer for Tomhlcken, Cran berry, Hurwood, lla/.leton Junction, Roan, Beaver Meadow ltoad. Stockton, Hazlc Brook, Kckley, Jeddo and Drifton at 2 40, 007 p m, daily except Sunday; and 0 37 a in, 607 p m, Sunday. Trains leave Sheppton for Oneida, Humboldt Road, Hurwood Road, Oneida Junction, Ha/.ic ton Junction ir-d Roan at 7 52, 10 lft am, 115 rsr p in, daily except Sunday; and 8 14 a m, 3 45 p m, Sunday. Trains leave Sheppton for Heaver Meadow ltoad, Stockton, Hazlo Brook, Eokley, Jeddo ind I irifton at 10 lft a m, 525 p n, daily, excent Sunday; and 8 14 a m, 3 45 t> m, Sunday. 1 I rains leave Ha/.leton Junction for Beaver Vleadow Bond, Stockton, Hazle Brook, Eokley, Jeddo and Drifton at 10 38 a in, 3 11, 5 47, 0 38 p u, daily, except Sunday; and 10 08a m, 538 p m, Sunday. All trains connect at Hazicton Junction with L'leetrie cars for Hazicton, .Icuiicsville, Auden rtecMind other points on Lehigh Traction CO'B, Trains leaving Drifton at ft 10 am, Ha/.leton Junction at 0 10 a lit, and sheppton at 7 52 a in, 115 p in, connect at < Jncidu.l unction with L. V. R. R. trains east and west. Train leaving Drifton at ft 00 a m. makes con nection at Dcringer with P. R. It. train for Wilkes-ltarre, Sunbury, llarrislairg, etc. E. B. COX E, DA NJEL COX E, President, Superintendent*.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers