"FORTY YEARS OLD." Call me not old, It cannot be I foci no touch of time upon my heart; It seems but yesterday I stood besido my mother's knee, A little child care freo. You say the murks of years are on my faco und In my hair; Hut as I look within upon my soul, 1 sco no silver crown, no faded eyes, no wrinkles there, Hut all is fresh and fair. It Is the same sweet joy to live to-day as yes terday; And what to-morrow has In storo for me, To suffer, live, or dio, I leave to ono who said to luy On Iliui our cure alwuy. Time cannot hurt my soul unless I will It so; I have the right to everlasting life. When age and death have spoiled this house of elay,l go Beyond the winter's snow. There springtime stays alway, and all are young. And when I meet my dear friends there. We'll clasp glad hands, and shout that parting, age, and pain are gone; We're young—let time pass on. —Mrs. A. J. Borkstrosscr, In N. W. Christian Advocate. u 9 j jpy [Cop, right. 1804, by tho Author., too"*'" flakes, blaclc V and ragged like fringed smuts burning chimney against the gray sky, white as feathers from a swan's breast when they crossed the dark branches anl trunks of the forest trees; the first snow of winter that was, and while it made the birds creep into the close places of the hedges, and the old folks think about their rheumatics as they drew near to tho fire, it only made the young folks and children laugh mer rily as they sought the opeu lanes to watch the downpour, while they thought of the fun the morrow would bring them if the storm kept like that all night. But Jack Hridgcs did not seem to relish this aspect of nature, although he was young enough to have done so, as he sat shivering inside his great coat tin the front seat of the dog-cart which was taking him from the station to his native village, but then he had been abroad for the past three years, and was at present bringing back sad news of death and that always is is enough to make a man shivery and miserable looking. After he had seen his own people ho had to face tho parents of his chum, Torn Naylor, and break to them the news of their son's death and burial in a strange land; he had also to face the sweetheart of his chum, Annie Holmes, and tell her what might per haps break her heart, that is if the money he was bringing to her from her dead lover failed to console her for the loss of the man himself. Therefore uncertain about his reception, he sat now beside the driver gnawing the end of his long tawny mustache, with the lappits of his furry coat drawn over his cars, while he watched the coming down of those flakes so long strangers to. him. lie was once more in old England, and coming to his own place a wealthy man, which he had left three years before along with his friend and school mate, and only five pounds between them over and above their passage money. They had gone to Australia and taken to gold digging, and after two and a half years of colonial hard lines and vicissitudes they had at last found fortune in a lucky claim. But with the strange irony of fate, the hole which had enriched them had proved the death and grave of poor Tom, leaving Jack as his legatee to carry home the riches they had worked so hard for and do justice to his memory. They had both made their wills when the claim showed signs of yielding a return, and after his friend's death Jack had acted like the honest fellow he was and divided their joint fortune equally, twenty thousand pounds for himself, and twenty thousand in two parts, one half to go to the sweet heart who was left disconsolate, and the rest to the father and mother who would see their son no more this side of the grave. Honest Jack Bridges had a hard taslc before him on this early winter after noon, for he had to recount how he left his dead friend far away from civ ilization, with the trouble they had to get there together, and the terrible hardships he had endured in the get ting away from that desolate and fatal claim, and doubtless he was thinking upon this us he regarded the bleak sky, with fixed stern, gray eyes, while he kept chewing at the ends of his mus tache. At last the dog-cart drove up to his boyhood's home, and his fond parents were blest with the sight of their long absent son, now a tall, handsome, sun tanned man, albeit the sufferings he bad endured had left their traces, for he had a bad cough, and crouched to gether as he got as near to the blazing fire as ho could. His face looked pinched and careworn, but he was a rich man now, and could make himself and his parents comfortable all their lives, therefore they trusted that he would soon lose that nervousness, and be again the jovial Jack of yore. lie had a duty to perform, so as soon as he had answered a few of his friends' numerous questions, he went off while supper was getting ready, to sec the parents and sweetheart of poor Tom. He told his story simply and manfully, and then left them to digest their sor row and examine the bank drafts which he had placed in their hands. Ten thousand pounds to poor people, even with the news of a deuth, are ijdxed tidings of good and evil. The parents wept for the son they had lost, and perhaps did not think much about the legacy which he had left, at least not for tlie first night. With the sweetheart, pretty Annie Holmes, it was different. Three years of absence from a girl who had not been very sure of her own mind which of the two friends she really lilced best, although as Tom had asked her first, and she had accepted him, is a severe test of endurance. Poor Tom was in his grave, and gone from her life for ever, while handsome Jack had come homo, handsomer and as tender and love-struck as ever; indeed, as he looked at her while he told his story, she was almost frightened at the intensity and hunger of his glances, and went to bed with her heart beat ing tuinultuously. Ten thousand pounds, and Jack back again, the owner of twenty thou sand, poor Tom, in that far off, lonely grave, the dingoes may wrangle and fight over your bones, but the girl you left behind you has, at the best, only a grateful kind of sadness over your memory, which is tempered by the pleasure of your gift, and the joy that the presence of your friend has awoke within her. Jack Bridges had always been a great favorite in tho village, for he was one of those obliging light-heart ed fellows as ready with his company at a feast as with his sympathy in times of trouble, and they all liked to see his handsome face, and hear his frank, merry laugh. Now that he had come back a rich man, he had more friends than ever, even although he was not quite so merry as he had been, but the people excused that and put it down to the troubles lie had gone through. With Annie he had a new manner which seemed better than the old one. lief ore his departure he had been care less and free, so that she never could be sure that he liked licr more than a friend, but now there was no mistake about his intentions, ho was in deadly earnest, and showed by every action that he wanted her as a wife, so after a little pause for the sake of decorum she consented to join her money to his, and then during the month which followed, she was happier than ever she had# been in her life before, for this was the one she must have loved all the time although she hud not known it. Jack, during these courting months having nothing else to do, passed the time between her house and the post office, lie wrote ami posted a great number of letters arid saved the vil lage postman the trouble of delivering what came to him or for the cottage where his promised wife lived, and, seeing him always at hand when the mails came in, the old post office keeper delivered them regularly up to him, with a little village chaff at which he laughed heartily, for he was once again getting back his former health and spirits. One day, however, he got u letter ad dressed to Annie which he did not give to her. Instead of doing so he sent "PHOVB TO ME THAT ANNIE LOVES YOU." her a little note by hand saying that he had to go to London, but that he would he back the following evening, and then, catching the first, train up, he sought out a little hotel off the Strand, where he asked for and had an interview with a broken down looking, sunburnt and bearded stranger by the name of Nay lor. It was a reproachful conversation on t lie part of Tom Nay lor, during which he made same ugly charges of at tempted murder and cowardly deser tion against his former friend. A re morseful, passionate, beseeching one on the side of the honest Jack bridges during which he told of his successful love suit, and how it would break the heart of prett3* Annie Holmes, if this ghost came back to claim her, the finale of which interview was that Tom said: "Prove to me that Annie loves 3*oll and I promise you that I shunt inter fere between you." To which Jack replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Disguise yousclf and coino down with me Tom, and you can judge for yourself." Next afternoon two men traveled to gether and arrived at the village about nightfall, and while one of them went boldly into Annie's cottage, the other hung about outside amongst the shrubbery and looked in at the meet ing of the lovers. "It's a fine night for spring, Annie. Will 3*ou come outside," said Jack, tenderly, and nothing loth the maiden went with him to the porch. "Tell rae, Annie, do 3 f ou ever think about poor Tom now?" "Yes, of course, Jack. I shall al ways think of him as our best friend." "Hut if he had come back instead of me?" "Ah, Jack, I didn't know 1113' own mind then." "but now, Annie?" "Jack, I always liked poor Tom, but I love you!" There was a slight rustling amongst the shrubbery, while the front gate was softly opened and as softly shut again. The lovers were alone. It is always safe to learn, even from our enemies—seldom safe to in struct, even our friends.— Col ton. REYNARD'S ESCAPE. How a Sly Old Fox Fooled mi i: 11 tiro I"*.•? of UOUIKIM. A clever old fox lived iu the edge of a wood near a town. And lie woul In't have been an old fox if he ha in't j-een clever, for not far away was the h mso of the master of the fox hounds, who often did his best to catch the sly eld fellow who poached upon his poultry. Many a narrow escape Reynard lo membercd, and he became very bold, lie began to think that no puck of dogs were sagacious enough to run him down, and so he was often careless. Sometimes he would even break cover when he was well hidden, so that he might have the fun of running away from the whole pack in full cry. Hut one morning he came so near to being / RKYNARD GAVE TUB HOUNDS A FARE* WELL SMILE. caught that he made up his mind newer to take unnecessary risks again. lie had been visiting a farmyard that was quite away from his burrow, and when he came home again he found that the bilrrow hod been filled up with earth. At first Reynard thought that it was done by the badger who had lived in the hole before Reynard drove him out; but soon he saw the marks of a spade, and knew that a man had been there. While he was examining the burrow, suddenly he heard the cry of the hounds, and he knew that the hunt was out and was after him. lie dropped the fat hen he was carrying and trotted away from the dogs, mean ing to slip out along a little ravine he knew of. Hut no sooner had he reached the edge of the wood than he heard a man shout. Then he knew he would have to run for it. Away he shot, his long brush sweep ing the ground. The hounds came straight after him, and he had to in crease his speed. Hut, tired from his long journey, he found the hounds gaining upon him and saw that ho would not be able to reach the little ravine in which he hud so often puz zled the keenest hounds. Still at full speed he looked right and left, and saw a thick row of bushes Oil one side. Turning sharply he ran toward them, for lie knew there was a railway cutting behind them, and hoped to cross it in time to reach the further bank before the dogs, ( nee hidden from the huntsmen he knew ef twenty tricks by which to throw off tin dogs and get away to safe cover. 1 'nfortunatcly us he leaped through the row of bushes his hind legs caught between two springy shoots that held him like a trap. Nearer came the do; -:.; harder poor Reynard struggled; but try as he would he could not pull his legs through between the stems, lie was about to give up the struggle when he heard the rattlety-bang of a freight train coming along the track. This scared the fox more than ever, for he thought that it might keep him from crossing the track oven if he should free himself. He struggled desperately, and, at last, by a quick push of his fore legs, threw Ids body back from between the sticks. He was at liberty—but just then the hounds were upon him! Reynard made one long leap half way down the bank, and at that mo ment the train came opposite him so he couldn't cross the track. Hut Reynard then showed what a bright old fox he was, for, giving another-jump, with the foremost hounds at his very heels, he caught the rear end of a platform ear —the last car of the moving train. Then, feeling quite safe, Reynard turned his head and gave the bullied hounds a farewell smile. Reynard, after this close shave, made up his mind to find a home not quite so near the fox-hounds. lie remained on the train until he was well out of reach, and he never went back to his old quarters. This was unfortunate for the poor little rabbit whose bur row Reynard stole when he took a new home. The huntsmen often wondered how the fox got away, but the dogs never told.—Henjamin Webster, in St. Nich olas. SNAKE AND BLUE JAY. Alter a Long Struggle the Itlrd Kills the Itepttle. I witnessed a novel sight a short time ago, viz., the killing and eating of a snake by a blue jay. lam living in an oak grove here where Mr. Jay makes his home the year round. I sat watching one of them feeding a short time ago, in the grass, when 1 notice I he got excited from some object. \\ itli his feathers ruffled on his neck and head, and tail erect, he charged from the lower branch of an oak and made a vicious thump at something in the grass. Again and again he whacked at his snakeship, jumping from one side to the other as lightly as an ex pert "light weight." Then he picked the snake up in his bill, and with neel: stretched tried to carry him to n tree, but the snake was too much alive, and had to be dropped. Twice did this oc cur, when he finally got him to an oak limb, cut him in two, dropped one half and carried the other half to another tree and ate him. The snake was about ten inches long and three-eighths inch round. 1 was not more than tliirtv feet from the scene of battle and the whole thing was done in five minutes Burns, in Scientific American. Tlina Ih Money. Col. iSympson, who was always ask ing people to advance him money, died not long ago in a Texas town at the age of eighty-six. Two gentlemen, one of whom had advanced him money very frequently, were talking about the de ceased, when one of them took occa sion to say: "With him the ruling passion was strong in death." "Ilow so?" "Well, you see lie even died at an advanced ago."—Alex Sweet, in Texas Siftings. lleur<l Through the Speaking Tube. Cook—So yer goin' to be marrhed, Mary McGinty! An' to a man thot was t'ree years kapin' company wid yer sis ter! Will, 01 doan't begridge ye. Chambermaid—Shmall difference of ye do, Miss Fagin; an'it's the foine, illi gant fellow Oi've got, an' he says he'd sooner marry me than me sister any day. Cook—An' did ye stan' still an' let him pass dispradgin' rcmarruks about yer family? Faix, Oi'd hov broke the mug av him!— Judg e a Peculiar Term. "Why do you use such peculiar terms?" asked a lawyer's wife of her husband, who had returned home worn out by his day's labors. "I don't see how you could have been working all day like a horse." "Well, my dear," he replied, "I'vo been drawing a conveyance all day. Isn't that working like a horse?"— Green Bag. A Deep-Laid Scheme. "No," sobbed the pretty girl, "Harold and I never speak now. And it is all through the machinations of that de ceitful Sallie Slimmins." "Why, what did she do?" "She persuaded us to join the samo church choir."—Washington Evening Star. And Nobody Moved. Wool—llicks never lets an opportun ity for fun go by. Van Pelt—What has he been doing now. Wool—ln a crowded street car to day he gravely arose and said: "Hero, let the oldest lady in the ear take my seat."—N. Y. World. She Didn't Scare. Marshall—What the mischief is the matter with you, Raymond; been held up by some highwaymen or have you been in a railway disaster? Raymond—Well, I can't say I have done either. Last night I just hid un der the bed to scare my wife.—Life. The Floating: Vote. Wife—Now, dear, what do you think will really be woman's place in poli ties? Husband—As they are so seldom at home I suppose they will be classed as the floating vote. —Cleveland Plain Dealer. (iood Nuggchtlon. Mother (to runaway Tommy) ls there any place I can put you and be sure of finding you there five minutes after? Tommy (meekly)— You might try the cupi x >ard.—Arkansuw Traveler. PREPARED FOR AN EMERGENCY. t J s "■ r J Widow—Arrah, an' is it ycrself, Po liceman Murphy, I dunno? Policeman —It is that same, by this token. I've got orders to go down an' arrest two mimbers of the shlaughter house gang!— Life. Too Much. Dcneath the hammock whore she nwung I lay on robos of fur. And whon by chance it cumo unhung, I wus much struck with hor. The Up* and Down* of Lifcw Full to o'orflowtng is my cup; I'm surely under fortune's frowu. The bank that held my funds went up; My stocks havo all gone down. —N. Y. World. An Fnsolvcd Mystery. She—l would like to know why you married me, anyhow? He—That's what I've been trying for six years to find out.—Texas Siftings. An Improvement. Slydig—Hullo, Flyjig; how are you? ITyjig—l'm not myself at all. Slydig—Really? Let me congratu late you. —N. Y. World. Marital Amenities. 11 is Wife—Do you wear that fright of o hat on the streets? Himself—No —on my head.—Chicago Record. Very Familiar. "Ileg your pardon, sir, but you seem to be staring at me in a strange fash ion. Do you see anything about me that is familiar to you?" "Yes. sir: my umbrella."—LTntran sigeant Illustre. Appropriate Uniform. Wife (in a fashionable store) —I won der why all these salesladies are dressed in black? Husband —I suppose because business is dead.—Judge. | ,Ilist the Thing. Jorkins —Do you consider journalism proper work for u lady? Perkins —Certainly. All women havo a fondness for press work.—Truth. A Nat ural Question. Clara —Mr. Castleton tried to put his around my waist last night. Maude —Couldn't lie get it around?— Detroit Free Press. Significant. "Will this dog bite?" "We call him 'Mosquito.' "—Puck. FIRST YANKEE BONNET. Made by M; 33 Bot3oy Motcalf, of Provide nca, R. I. At First. ITerWork Was Assailed from the I'ulpit and l>y the Press—Preachers Supposed It to lie an Inven tion of Satan. Until some years after the revolu tionary war all the straw bonnets sold in this country were imported from England. Even those patriotic daugh ters of the revolution who refused to drink the taxed tea went on buying and wearing the imported bonnets until a young American girl made one for herself, and thus set the fashion of independence for others. It was in 1708 that little Betsey Metcalf, of Providence, R. 1., saw an English Dunstable straw bonnet in the window FIRST AMERICAN RTUAW RON"NET. of a milliner's shop in that city. Mini Rctsey wished to buy it, but as that was out of the question she determined to make one like it. In her old age she used to relate the many difficulties she encountered in this first attempt at bonnet-making in this country. llow the straw was too ripe, and consequent ly so brittle it would break until her patience was nearly exhausted. .With a few directions from the milliner Miss Metcalf finally succeeded in sewing the braid together and getting it into the desired form with the aid of flour starch to stiffen it und a hot flutiron to press it into shape. A fac-simile of this first American straw bonnet—a drawing of which accompanies this article—is still shown with pride in Providence. Miss Betsey was much sought after when her success in bonnet-making was made known, and straw-braiding became the fad of the day; and a use ful fad it was, too, for it soon developed into an industry by which many earned their living. When we recall the Puritanical no tions of the day, it does not seem strange that this straw work was as sailed from the pulpit and by the press. Many ministers preached long sermons in which they warned their fair hear ers to flee from the power of Satan as manifested in this new fashion of bon net making. It was an invention of the evil one to foster pride in their hearts, and thus draw them away from the right path. Some pointed out the danger of famine, as it had now been discovered that, in order to braid it easily, the straw should bo cut before the grain was fully ripe. After straw braiding had continued many years a learned essay was written "On the Manufacture of Straw Bonnets," and after proving that straw bonnets were the root of all evil, ended with some "moral, political, miscellaneous and concluding remarks." But the straw braiding kept right onl At first Miss Metcalf had a monopoly of the business, orders coming to her from within a radius of fifty miles, and help had to be employed to supply the demand. Her friends thought it im modest to allow a young woman's name to go before congress, so the process was not patented, and straw braiding became general. The bonnet-malcors would take them along with butter, eggs and other farm products to the village store, where they would he exchanged for dry goods and groceries. Soon, however, large establishments became necessary for carrying on the trafllo, though much of the work was still done at home. An agent went out at certain intervals to deliver straw to the workers and to collect the bonnets and huts made, which were sold by this establishment to all parts of the country. It was natural that at first this in dustry should flourish in the stato where it had birth; but soon Massachu setts became a formidable rival, and to day more than half the American straw goods are manufactured in the latter state. The bonnets arc now sewed by machines run by steam, the machines being of American invention. Miss Metcalf married Mr. William Baker, and removed with him to Mas sachusetts, where she lived to a very old age. She lived to see the large re sults that came from her first email efforts in straw work. She was visited by many distinguished people, who were glad to meet the first maker of American straw bonnets.—Once aWeek How to Pollnh Steel Buckles. Buckles are to be found upon every part of a woman's toilet, and, of the many chic varieties, those made of steel take the lead. Old-fashioned specimens j that look as if they might date back ! several generations are greatly prized, j "How can I furbish them up?" is the query of the fair owner. I.Viling oil acts as a cleansing agent. The buckle to be renovated Is dropped in oil that has been heated. It is left there for an hour, when the polishing process be gins. The best polisher you will find is the ever useful chamois, or, if you prefer them, the inside of an old kid glove or a soft piece of leather will do the work nicely. TENDKII new pens are afiprtf/.lngly served in cases. These are made of mashed potatoes stiffened with a little flour and baked in fluted cake tins, the center filled with a bit of bread. This is then removed and the peas poured in. for infants and Children. THIRTY years* observation of Coatoria with the patronage of millions of persons, permit na to speak of it without guessing. It is unquestionably the best remedy for Infants and Children the world Las ever known. It is harmless. Children like it. It gives them health. It will save their lives. In it Brothers have something whioh is absolutely safe and practically perfect as a chilcl s mrdieino. j Castoria destroys "Worms. ; Castorta allay >, Focorishnesa. ' Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd. V ! Castoria cm es Diarrhcoa and Wind Colio. w Castoria relieves Teething Troubles. \ Castoria cures Constipation and Flatulency. C'lstor v, the effects of carbonic acid gas or poisonons air. Castoria does not cont.'iiji lutirphino, opium, or other narcotic property. Castoria assimilates tho food, regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Castoria is put up in one-size bottles jrnly. It is not sold in bulk. Hon't ft^ow ftfl y °ne to sell you anything else on the |ilea or promise that it is jnnt as good " and ''will answer every purpose." Soo that you got C-A-S-T-O-R-I-A. The fao-simile jSlp // is on every signature of Cwrapper. I Cht'dren Cry for Pitcher's Castoria. ELKHART iFG. GO. /fc-WV v- "i 'A '-living them tho dealer's proflt. We jiro tho . wlntWil tilde I I Largest manufaotarersin Amer* 6'iC 11 v ■ I L. l -l "t: p:ii'i. l \ V♦ • j':iy freight h()tli^wiivs riot Hiitisiiuj \f\~ „ i.-k ot d.un:o:e in \ i; * " i M i/\ j "' WHOLEBALE PRICES. - '[ i/ JIIL-' /•* 1 / Spring: Wagons, SSI to SSO. Guarantee NO. 781, Surrey. '■ Surrey,., SSS to SIOO ... Ho. i. ' i] "• Too Rugfeif o, pas $26 „ ~ Id for *ls. Phcetons v S6o Fa m Wagons, Wagon t,s, / \.f ; \\f '• r Wa u° n '. 4 °®jj v y, ry Wnon ? m V tßoac / Ifa-iiL $23.50 *"* f ' \ our w $to$BO No. 727, ltoad Wagon. j- Kiv-fi:,. r • * IHDINi; ADDLES mid FLY NETS. Elkhart Bicycle, 28ln.whecl, • v emit. rr vnnh with order. Send 4e. In pneumatic tires, we Id less v \ .ti .mp.. to p:.;.' UII US-pHgo cutulaguo. steel tubiup, drop for Kings. iress W. 3. PRATT, Sec'y, ELKHART, IND. We Impart a thorough knowledge of the COMMERCIAL STUDIES at the cost of loss time and money than other schools. THOUSANDS owe their success in life (so thev sav) to the training they received here. We made RKEAD-WINNERSof them. We want von t(. know us; u rite and W" will tell VOU all about this 1,1 \' KS( Ih H)l-. N. Ik We assist L'l'ud uateu to positions. PALMS BUSINESS COLLEGE, 170S-1710 C'lieatiiut St., PIIILA. l Caveats, and Trade-Marks obtained, and all I 'at- ? gent business conducted tor MODERATE FEES. > SOUR OFFICE IS OPPOSITE U. S. PATENT OFFICE* J and we can secure patent in less time than those J g remote from Washington. £ J Send model, drawing or photo., with descrip-* Stion. We advise, if patentable or not, free ofi g charge. Our fee not due till patent is secured. c t A PAMPHLET, "How to Obtain Patents,"' with * of same in the U. S. arid foreign countries J; gsent free. Address, <• :C. A.SNOW&COJ OPP. PATENT OFFICE. WASHINGTON, D. C. ComplexiGn Preserved OH. HE BRA' 3 i SLA eiEAi fm : Removes Freckles, Pimples, Liver - Moles, Blackheads, v> Sunburn an>l Tan, and re* \ i stores tho skin to its origi- -. 1 . rial freshiless, producing ft / , ' . V clear mul healthy com-u/w"' i plcxion. Superior to all fn -o ' preparations and peri . ;v harmless. At all ; druggists, or mailed foriCets. Send for Circular, VIOLA StCIN 50."..' 1. "nlr lf®pwMe u a skin i>urirln Soap, u.. '"1 for tho tnllut, nn.l v.ilhotit o i rival for tho uurs.v,. . • !*' ■ >iro aud doUcitolj medi cated. At druF<l.ii . Pr.co 25 Cents. G. C. BIT*. KKRI & CO., TOLEDO, O. i I CAIV I OBTAIN A PATENT? For a Ri'r'v v atu i! ", n bonost. opinion, write to .ill \ IS ow < <■*.* who have had nearly art y vonrs' experience in the patent business, Conmiunlca- ! lionsstrictly confidential. A Handbook of In formation concerning Patents and bow to ob -01 u,cclmn .takon.through Munii & Co. receive special notlcelnthe Scientific American, and nTi* 1 B J2? brought widely bciorcthe putuic with out cost to tho Inventor. This splondld paper, issued weekly, elegant lyillu- (rated, has by far tho 12J2i e . 8t SJSpolttt"" l * uf "V untitle work in tho nLi i ll L ' nr • cotiics sent free. Building Edition, monthly, ifl.soa year. Single f'Tics. •., e. r com,,ins beau tiful plates, in colors, and photographs of new I nouses, with plans, enabling builders to shew tho 1 latest designs and secure contracts. Address MUNN & Co., NEW YOKK, ittii BUOAL/WAY. Fortunes Ivlade and Saved; by following the advice of the ll\in Street Thriljj .1 W/'.v,! , (established 1879) in speculating or investing in Railway Stocks and Bonds. Subscription, £.7 per year. Sample copies free. Addi ess K. Martin Black, editor. No. 4b Exeliange Place, N, V. Wheeler & Wilson asrerxxr iiigh ARMSSO. SEWING MACHINE. SKWS / EITHER CHAIN J S * OK LOCK STITCII. The lightest running, most dumblo and most popular in tho %oorld*£ * Send for catalogue. Agcnta wanted. ■*-' Beat goods. Boat terms. Address Wlieeler & Wilson Mfg. Co., Philadelphia, TO THE OPPONENTS OF THE KNIGHTS OF LABOR. You judge our organization without com plete understanding of our principles or our position on current questions. There is ONLY (INK. authorized organ of the (ieneral Order of the Knights of Labor and that is the Journal of the Knights of Labor. The best reform weekly paper in America. SimSCIIIISK FOB IT. KKAI) IT. THEN CRITICISE US. Pr ice, £ 1 a year. f 814 North Broad street, Philadelphia, Pa.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers