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*.