FREELAND TRIBUNE. Estatlishoi 13E3. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY BY THE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited. OFFICE: MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: One Year sl. Six Months 75 Four Mouths 50 Two Mouths .25 The date which the subscription is paid to is 1 ou the address label of oaoh paper, the change : of Which to a subsequent date becomes u | receipt for remittance. Keep the ilgures in advance of the present date, lteport prompt- : ly to this office whenever pit per Is not received, j Arrearages must be paid when subscription j is discontinued. Make all money orders, check s, etc., payable to j the Tribune I'ri'itiny Company, Limited. I'REELAND, PA..NOVEM HEB 24, ISUS. "Incidentally," remarked the man j with a basket on his arm as he came j Into the presence of the editor, "I 1 might mention the fact that if you want the finest and fattest turkey for I your Thanksgiving dinner, my store is the place to get it, but that is not what j iam here for. I came in to bring you an j item of interest. You may not know, ! notwithstanding an editor knows more i than anybody else on earth, that the j first proclamation of Thanksgiving | Day that is to be found in printed form j is the one issued by Francis Bernard, j Captain-General and Governor-in- Chief in an over his Majesty's province j of the Massachusetts Bay in New Eng land, and Vice-Admiral of the same, in | 1767." The editor admitted that it had not ! occurred to him previously. "I'm glad I'm giving you something new," continued the turkey man, "and now let me read it to you, so you may compare it with the modern style. It is headed 'A Proclamation for a Public Thanksgiving:' " 'As the business of the year Is now j drawing toward a conclusion, we are reminded, according to the laudable usage of the Province, to join together in a grateful acknowledgment of the manifold mercies of the Divine Provi dence conferred upon Us in the passing Yea;: Wherefore, I have thought fit to appoint, and I do, with the advice of his Majesty's Council, appoint Thurs day, the Third Day of December next, to be a day of public Thanksgiving, that we may thereupon with one Heart and Voice return our most Humble Thanks to Almighty God for the graci ous Dispensations of His Providence since the last religious Anniversary of this kind, and especially for —that He has been pleased to preserve and main tain our most gracious Sovereign, King George, in Health and Wealth, in Peace and Honor, and to extend the Blessings of his Government to the re motest part of his Dominions; that He hath been pleased to bless and preserve our gracious Queen Charlotte, their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Princess Dowager of Wales, and all the Royal family, and by the frequent encrease of the Royal Issue to assure us the Continuation of the Blessings which we derive from the Illustrious House; that He hath been pleased to prosper the whole British Empire by the Preservation of Peace, the En crease of Trade, and the opening of new Sources of National Wealth; and now particularly that He hath been pleased to favor the people of this Province with healthy and kindly Sea sons, and to Bless the Labour of their Hands with a Sufficiency of the Pro duce of the Earth and of the Sea. " 'And I do exhort all Ministers of the Gospel with their several Congre gations, within this Province, that they assemble on the said Day in a Solemn manner to return their most humble thanks to Almighty God for these and all other of His Mercies vouchsafed un to us, and to beseech Him notwith standing our Unworthiness, to continue His gracious Providence over us. And I command and enjoin all Magistrates and Civil Officers to see that the said ; Day be observed as a Day set apart for i religious worship, and that no servile Labour be performed thereon. " 'Given at the Council Chamber in Boston the Fourth Day of November, 1767, in the Eighth Year of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord George the Third, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, &c. FRA BERNARD. " By His Excellency's Command. '"A. OLIVER, Sec'ry. " 'God Save The King.' "Remember what I told you about the place for Thanksgiving turkeys." said the turkey man, laying the paper on the desk and walking out. SIOO Reward, SIOO. The readers of this paper will be pleased to learn that there is at least one nreaded disease tiiat science lias been nido to care in aii its stages nnd that is catarrh. Hall's catarTh cure is the only positive care now known to the medical fraternity. Catarrh being a constitu tional disease requires a constitutional treatment. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally, acting directly ujion the blood nnd mucous surfaces of the system, thereby destroying the foundation i the disease, and giving the patient strength by building up the constitution end assisting nature in doing its worn. The proprietors have so much faith in its curative jiowers, that they offer one hundred dollars for any case that it fans to cure. Bend for list of testimonials Address, F. J. CHENEY A CO., Toledo, O. IT"Bold by druggists, 700. Hall's Family I'ills arc the best. It was growing dark when Miss Mat j tie, with her basket on her arm, came ; into the corner market to buy her 1 Thanksgiving dinner. The basket was absurdly small, but Miss Mattie was little herself, and when she set it on the high counter and stood blinking in the bright light, the calf's head at her elbow seemed to bo grinning at them both. "Well, Miss Mattie," called out the market man, in his hearty fashion, "I see your mind is not set on a turkey this time, but just wait till I start this basket off for Cap'n Lawson's and I'll show you the right thing—a plump lit tle duck I clapped into the safe this morning, thinking to myself that's the very moral of a treat for Miss Mattie." Miss Mattie looked embarrassed and rubbed her forefinger uneasily over a small coin that lay in the palm of her hand under her glove. It was a silver five-cent piece, and she had taken it with much hesitation from a little store of pieces, most of them given her when she was a child. For herself she could have got along very well with bread and tea, but somehow it seemed a dis honor to all her happy past not to have something special on Thanksgiving; and so she had a feeling of real pity for it, lying there warm and snug in her palm, and so soon to go tumbling into the heap of clashing, jingling coins tossed about by the butcher's greasy fingers, or perhaps into the pocket of that horrible apron with" blood-stains on it. Miss Mattie shud dered, but quickly iecovered herself to say, cheerfully: "Oh, thank you, Mr. Simmons; but don't you think ducks are a sight of trouble, what with the stuffing and the roasting and needing to be looked after and basted regular? I made up my mind to something simple, and I don't know anything that's easier got or more relishing than lamb chops. Two lamb chops is about what I thought of, Mr. Simmons. You know there's only me." Mr. Simmons had not seen the five cent piece, but he understood just as well as if he had, and began to cut the chops at once, talking all the time to relievo his own embarrassment and as suring Miss Mattie that "if folks only knew it, there was nothing like lamb chops to encourage your appetite and strengthen you up all over." "But you'll have to take three chops," looking curiously at the money Miss Mattie laid in his big hand, "or I'll have to make chauge, and change is scarcer than hen's teeth to-night. You might have company unexpected, you know, and an extry chop would come in handy." Miss Mattie laughed so genially that the market man ventured to slip a sweetbread and a bunch of yellow cel ery into the basket on the sly. He would have loved to put in the duck, but that would have looked as if ho suspected her reason for not buying it, and, bless you, he knew better than that. Some people have feelings, though their faces are red and their hands coarse and greasy. Miss Mattie went very happily down the street. She had lighted her lamp before she went out, and a cheerful little ray smiled encouragingly at her as she came to the gate. All the other windows in the weather-beaten old house were black and empty and look ed to the lonesome little woman as if all sorts of hobgoblins might he peep ing out at her from the gloom behind them, for Miss Mattie's neighbors had gone away on a Thanksgiving visit and taken the whole family. At least they said "the whole family," but at the ! very moment Miss Mattie came to the gate a member of the family was hud- j died up in a corner of the doorway, cold, hungry and much perplexed to understand what had become of all his friends and why, in spite of his pitiful plea, no one came to open the door for him. He heard Miss Mattie and ran hopefully to meet her, limping as he came, for he had a stiff leg. "Why, Tommy Barnes," said Miss ; Mattie, stooping to pat his rough yel low head, "you don't mean to say your folks have gone off to Thanksgiving : and left you behind. Well, if I ever! How dreadful—thoughtless— and you a cripple besides!" Tommy kept on crying, but he had his eye on the door while Miss Mattie was fitting her key, and the moment it opened he darted in. "That's right, Tommy," said Mi3s Mattie; "just make yourself at home. You and I'll have our Thankgiving to gether. That extra chop will be want ed after all, and I'm going to make riz biscuits." She put away her bonnet and shawl and hung the basket on a nail In the back room without even looking at the contents, though Tommy Barnes watched her keenly with a shrewd sus picion of something good, and a faint hope which nothing In his past experi ence justified that he might come in for a share of it. Miss Mattie was ac customed to being alone, and she scarcely thought of Tommy, as she trotted about, setting the spong for her biscuits in a pint bowl, putting a little cup of broth on the stove to warm for her supper, making her tea, toasting her bread, and at last sitting down by the table in the little green chair with a patchwork cushion. Up to this point Tommy had sat quietly by the fire, having learned by many severe lessons that little folks should be seen and not heard, but when Miss Mattie poured out the savory brolh the delicious odor wag too touch t'er his fortitude, ana with one bound he sprung into her lap. I "Bless me," said Miss Mattie, "if I hadn't clean forgot you, and you half starved, I dare say. There, get down. I never could abide cats around my victuals." She put Tommy gently on the floor, crumbled some bread into the bowl of broth, cooled it carefully and set it down for him to eat. i "It's pretty rich for me anyway she said, as she made out her supper with toast and tea. It was perhaps well for Tommy that he took an early promenade next morning around the back yards of the neighborhood, and secured several val uable tid-bits, for Miss Mattie had very little to offer him. She baked her de lightful little puffs of biscuits, and en joyed them immensely, finding them lighter and more digestible without butter. She read a Thanksgiving psalm and went about tryiug to sing in a little chirrupy voice like a brown sparrow. She brought in the small basket and flushed over the unexpected treasuretrove, but took it kindly as a bit of neighborly goodwill. The sweetbread, white and plump and all ready for cooking, reminded her of old Mrs. Morrison, just beginning to sit up and watch the people go by the window. What a toothsome dainty this would be for her, and what a de light that she should be able to take it to her as she went to church, yes, and some of the celery, too, for a rel ish. The chops wore transferred to a plate on the shelf, the sweetbread wrapped in a fine old napkin and laid back in the basket with the best half of the celery, and the biscuits Miss Mattie had saved for dinner. "The cold bread will go just as well with the chops," she reflected, and pre pared for church with a glow of hap piness such as she had not known in a long time. It helped to a real feeling of thank fulness, especially thought of old Mrs. Morrison, and how pleased she had been with the unexpected gift. She laughed a little to herself as she returned to her own door after service, remembering how when Sally Morri son had commiserated her on being alone Thanksgiving Day, she had as sured her she had company invited— Tommy Barnes, from the next door, who was spending a couple of days with her, the rest ef the family being away. "I hope 't wa'n't a sinful untruth," TDCKKI> IN THE YE I. LOW SLEIGH* she said, smiling at Tommy, who lay peacefully sleeping on the braided rug, "but if old Miss Morrison had set in a' known how to get away, and she is to have me stay to dinner, I shouldn't such a talker." With a long, clean apron over her best frock, Miss Mattie began cheerful ly to make her small preparations for the Thanksgiving feast. She had meditated leaving one chop for break fast. but her walk and happiness had made her hungry and she decided to cook them all. But where did she put these chops— she was getting so forgetful—she could have sworn she put them on the shelf —could she have left them In the basket after all? Her perplexed eyes fell from the shelf to the floor, and there, just peeping from the wood-box was the plate, and two small, very small, bits , of bone, gnawed quite clean and white. Ungrateful Tommy Barnes, lying there in peaceful slumber, with those precious chops rounding out your yel -1 low sides, if justice had befallen you J then and there you might not have : lived to steal again. But into the midst of Miss Mattie righteous wrath came the reflection that Tommy must | have been hungry, and the fault after all was partly her own for putting temptation in his way, "though how anything could have been further out j of is way than that shelf, I don't real ly see," she added, dolefully. At that minute Tommy Barnes waked from his naji, transformed him -1 self in a camel, yawned in a fright fully tigerish fashion, and proceeded to sharpen his claws on the rug, the sacred rug into which had been [ braided some precious old garments dear to Miss Mattie's heart. It was a straw too much to have insult added to injury, and springing from her chair, she cuffed Tommy in such vigorous fashion that three or four hearty blows found their mark before the astonished sinner could withdraw his claws and bound out at the back door, lt'ft ajar in the search for the chops. At that instant a resounding knock on the front door sent Miss Mattie's heart to her throat with a sudden leap, as it Justice were already coming to take her in hand for unrea sonable cruelty. When Miss Mattie was peacefully pattering about, unconscious of the cruel trick fate and Tommy Barnes had played her, Mr 3. Deacon Giles was surveying her husband with a disturb j ed and tearful face. "You dou't mean to tell me," she repeated, "that the minister's folks ain't comin' at all, and you and me has got to eat this big dinner alone? Here, I stayed home from church to tend to it. Oh, you needn't to look as if you thought it was a judgment. Josiah I wouldn't be such a hipper crit as to pretend to be thinkin' of spiritooal things when I was wonder in if Sarah Ellen would remember to baste the turkey. Seems to me they might let us know sooner." "But I told ye, mother, it was a telegram come just before church. You can't regerlate telegrams like the weekly newspaper, or stop folks from dyin' unexpicted." "Then, why didn't you rush round and get somebody else? Mercy sakes! Twon't seem like Thanksgiving at all " "Didn't seem to be anybody to ask but old Mis' Morrison and Marthy Ellison. I drove round by the Morri son's, but the old lady was Just having something relishing Miss Mattie had fetched in. They said they invited her to dinner, but she had comp'ny; one of them Barneses next door." "Fiddlesticks!" said the deacon's wife, in a very disrespectful tone, "you just drive straight back and bring Marthy Ellison up here to dinner. Tell her I don't take any excuse, and, if she can't come otherwise, she can bring her comp'ny along, though the way them shif'less Harnesses impose on her is a mortal shame." Good Deacon Giles had learn docility in many years of experience, and the double knock at Miss Mattie's door fol lowed as quickly as could be reason ably expected. Miss Mattie attempted neither excuse nor hesitation, but ac cepted her good providence with ra diant delight. "Mother said to fetch your comp'ny along," said the deacon, glancing doubtfully about the small room. "We heard you had one of the Barneses. I kinder hope 'tain't the cross-eyed one that stole my pears." "Oh," said Miss Mattie, laughing in to the little mirror, as she tied her bon net, "he's had his dinner and he's gone out." She didn't say that he had eaten hers also, but at Mrs. Giles' hospitable table, under the genial influence of generous fare and pleasant old-time reminiscences, she told the story of Tommy Barnes and the lamb chops in away that made the deacon lose his breath with laughter. And when she was tucked into the yellow sleigh for the ride home, Mrs. Giles stopped at the door to say: "I put some bits of bones and things in a basket under the seat for Tommy. Takes a sight of stuff to reely fill up a cat fur 'uough to give his moral princi ples a fair showin'." Tommy was on the step waiting to welcome Miss Mattie, which shows his forgiving disposition, and, though he got as much as was good for him out of the basket under the seat, Miss Mattie very wisely concluded that the mince pie, roast chicken and cranberry sauce could hardly have been meant for his delight, so she locked them in the cupboard, saying decidedly: "This time, Tommy Barnes, I'll give your moral principles a fair showing." Far From Their Own. There is no sadder day in all the year than this holiday to the homeless. The stranger in a strange city, the widow left desolate, the orphan bereft, the old man forsaken—to these the Thanksgiving bells calling to church seem more like funeral notes ringing a requiem over past remembered joys. Send a cordial note a few days ahead to Johnnie's teacher, whom you happen to know is tar from her own people, or to one of the dear old ladies in the "Home for the Aged," or the new clerk who looks as though life was far from being a bed of roses, or the widow and her daughter who do the best they may to keep the wolf from their third story door, and bid them "come in." They will enjoy it —oh, so much—and you— you will hear deep in your heart, "In asmuch as ye have done It unto one of tne least of these my brethren, ya have done it unto me." This Ib flly I>iy. Tlmnkftfi;ivlnff In Klondike, Chilkoot Charlie —What'll we do fer a Thanksgivin' dinner, Jack? We've only got a thousand dollars. Juneau Jack —We can't git no turkey fer that, but I'll tell yer what we'll do, I'll go down to the store an' git a dozen cranberries, an' we kin Imagine the rest, November Toy. The salvia is brilliant Along the garden wall, The cruller's as resilient As any tennis-ball. And now with step elastic * My giglet I unfold In attitude fantastic On pleasure's cloth-of-gold. With fancy I'm aboard ship And watch the gobbler gray With chestnuts stuff his lordship To gild Thanksgiving day. —B. K. Munkittrick. fl Mm Fft The night before Thanksgiving I found mamma sitting alone by the window in the dark, and when I put my cheek against hers it was all wet, and I said out quick: "Oh, pretty mhmma, what is the mat ter?" and cried, too. "I was thinking abbut your uncle Jefferson," she answered, then she dried her eyes and mine. "He will be only one who will not be here at our Thanksgiving dinner." "But why don't he ever come?" I said. "Three years ago he had a misun derstanding with your father," said mamma. "That means a quarrel," I said. "What did he quarrel about?" "The pronunciation of a word." said mamma. "The way a word ought to be spoken?" I asked. "Yes," said mamma. I thought that such a queer thing to quarrel about, but I did not say any thing, for, of course, big folks know best. "It was on Thanksgiving Day three years ago," said mamma, "and he has never been in the bouse since." "Ho must be very cross and bad," I said. "No, indeed, Hilda," said mamma. "He is a splendid doctor, and very kind to the poor. He is ready to go and see them any time, day or night. I have often known him to take the ragged little children who were sent for him home in his gig." Then she said again: "They will all be here but he." "Shall I go and ask liim to come?" I said after a while. "I know where he lives." "No, Hilda, he would not listen to you," said mamma. "If I was a ragged little girl would he come?" I asked. "He might," said mamma. Then she sat very quiet and looked out of the window for a long time, and I knew i she was thinking about Uncle Jeffer son. Next day every one came —grandma, ; grandfather and all my aunts, uncles | and cousins, big and little. [ The table in the dining-room was i bright and glittering with pretty glass, silver and flowers. Every one seemed happy, but I knew just by her face that mamma was stlil thinking. "They are all here but Uncle Jefferson." So I went up to her and said: "Maybe Uncle Jefferson will come af | ter all, mamma," but she shook her | head and the tears came into her eyes, j "Would he come if I were a ragged little girl and asked him?" I asked. "He might," said mamma. "He is always so very good to poor little chil dren." "Then I will go and bring him," I said to myself, and ran away. Dinner would not be ready for an hour, so I had plenty of time. I left all my cous j ins playing and talking together, j I was afraid some one would call me back,but I got away without being seen , and went into mamma's room and into [ a closet, where I knew an old coat of papa's hung. I knew no one would mind, so I got the big scissors and cut off some of the sleeves, and then I put it on; but it was so long that I could not walk, so I cut off the skirt, too. There was nothing left but the waist and I tore big holes in it to make it ragged. I climbed up on a chair after I was dressed and peeped into the glass. I looked just like a poor, poor little beg gar girl. It almost made me cry. j "I hope lam ragged enough to suit Uncle Jefferson," I said, and I ran down stairs and out of the door. No one heard me. When I reached Uncle Jefferson's of fice his gig was standing at the door. bo I waited close by until he came out of the house. I was afraid that after all he would not listen, but the moment he saw me he stopped and looked at me all over through his glasses, j "Dear, dear," he said, "my poor child, what do you want?" [ "I want you to come and see mam- I ma," I said. He answered right away, "Certainly; lump in and tell the boy where to drive." j When the black boy lifted me into the gig he laughed and said: I "Well, little rag-bag, where shall I take you?" Just that moment I forgot our num ber, so I pointed. Uncle Jefferson sat down on the other side of me, and away we went. Well, before I knew it, the boy drove down the wrong street, but there was a gate in our back garden in this street, and I told him to stop there. | It was very dark in the garden, but I went straight up to the dining-room | door, Uncle Jefferson following close behind. As I ran up the steps I threw I away the old coat and handkerchief, 1 for I knew mamma wanted me to look nice. | When I pushed open the door and j called out, "Here is Uncle Jefferson," every one stopped talking and turned around. Well, I don't know what happened after that, but anyhow in a few mo ments they were all shaking hands, and mamma was crying, but this time she looked so happy. When at last they all sat down, I next to mamma on one side and Uncle Jefferson on the other, she said: "You dear little fairy, how did you manage to make him come?" Then I told her about the old coat, and she told everybody else, and they laughed, Uncle JeHerson louder than all the others. Mamma said it was the very hqp plest Thanksgiving Day she had ever | known, and all my cousins said it was the very best Thanksgiving dinner ■a] CASTOBIfI in For Infants and Children. f ASTORIA The Kind You Have Alwa V s Bough* slmilating theFoodatulßegula- _ . M ting the Stomachs arid Bowels of "Rogrg tjlQ M yVtJ* Promotes Digestion, Cheerfu- Jf /|jj' ness and Rest.Con tains neither o / jf.lr Opium, Morphine nor Mineral. 01 /ft /\ IT HOT NARCOTIC. / U U* Zk*vr rV Old LrSAJ fVLL PITCHER 1 /V J\uvpku% Set el' 1 g 1 jilx.Scnrut * I 1 A JRoafullr Sallt - I Af ■ _ Ss£L.. i (\ ilv** The fHnnSttd - 1 11 JIJ| ■ IIU Clarifud Sugar . I lA V P ; | j |/ j „ J Apcrfectßemedy forConstipa- 8 U ftl It 111 U tion. Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, ■ I liK Worms .Convulsions, Feveris- II ■ II ness andLOSSOF SLEEP. 1\ J* 7 013 HP. UP Tac Simile Signature of K lAlwavs Bought. ■HMliß.llHlltl.Liß.Hl—j || J u M ipp; T ftM EXACT COPV OF WRAPPER. 31 Jfl SIB I BAA T. CAMPBELL, denier in Bry G o oils, Groeex'tefcv sitees*' Also PURE WINES $ LIQUORS FOR FAMILY AND MEDICINAL PURPOSES. Centre and Main streets, Froeland. QePIERRO - BROS. -CAFE.- Corner of Centre and Front Street*, Freeland, Pa. Finest Whiskies in Stock. Gibson, Dougherty, Kaufer Club, Roaenbiuth's Velvet, of which we h ve EXCLUSIVE SALE IN TOWN. Mumm'g Extra Dry Champagne, Hennossy llrandy, Blackberry, Gins, Wines, Clarets, CordiaU, Etc. Imported and Domestic Cigars. OYSTERS IN EVERY STYLE, Ham and Schweitzer Cheese Sandwiches, Sardines, Etc. MEALS AT - ALL - HOURS. Ballentine and Hazleton beer on tap. Baths. Hot or Cold, 2f> Cents. P7F7 MCNULTY, FUNERAL DIRECTOR AND EMBALMER. Embalming of female corpses performed exclusively by Mrs. P. F. MoNulty. Prepared to Attend Calls Day cr Night. South Centre street, Freeland. JM Best Cough Syrup. Tastes Good. Use W Cr in time. Bold by druggists. Nn i| EBzzßnsßßHa^a ever eaten. Well, after that day Uncle Jefferson and I were the best of friends, and he always called me his Thanksgiving fairy. Help Those Who Have Not. Thanksgiving day and its happy re unions will, we hope, stimulate those that have to express their thanks by helping those that have not. Actions speak louder than words. The Farmer's Thanksgiving. Mrs. Oatcake—What did you thank the Lord for to-day, Silas? Silas Oatcake—Fer t.h' wheat failure in Europe. One Explanation. Freddie—"Say, pa, why is a Thanks giving dinner called a spread?" Cobwigger—"lt's a spread, my boy, because it's so comfortable." Dry Goods, Groceries and Provisions. SBROTH77U*'H'aTS' 0 0 A celebrated brand of XX Hour always in stock. Roll Butter and Eggs a Specialty. AMANDUS OSWALD, N. W. Cor. Centre and Front StsFreeland. VIENNA: BAKERY. J. B. LAUBACH, Prop. Contre Street, Froeland. CHOICE BREAD OF AIL KINDS, CAKES, AND PASTRY, DAILY. FANCY AND NOVELTY CAKES BAKED TO ORDER. Confectionery § Ice Cream supplied to hojltf. parties or picnics, with all necessary adjuncts, at shortest notice and fairest prices. Delivery and supply wagons to all parts of town and svrroundings every day. I ( aveats, and Tro de-Marks obtained, and all Fat-£ i # ent business conducted for MODERATE Fees. * £OUR orricc is OPPOSITE U. S. PATENT Orrice £ j J and we can secure patent in less time than those £ | a remote from Washington. J € Send model, drawing or photo,, with descrlp- # ( st!on. We advise, if patentable or not, free off t } charge. Our fee not due till patent is secured. 1 I £ A PAMPHLET, "How to Obtain Patents," with# 5 cost of same in the U. S. and foreign countries £ I Agent free. Address, £ jC.A.SNOW&CO. OFFICE, WASHI WOTOW, D. C. J FRANCIS BRENNAN, RESTAURANT 151 Centre street, Froeland. FINEST LIQUOR, BEER, PORTER CIGARS AND SOFT DRINKS. ' State Normal School. The EAST STUOUDSBURG NORMAL i offers'superior educational advantages. ITS LOCATION is In the Famous Remit j region of tho stato. ITS licit,IUNOS are [new and modern. IlitcssKi.s CARPET In all students' rooms. No SCHOOL provides such honto com forts. GOOD HOARDING, a recognized foature. CO LI. KG U PREPARATORY. MUSIC, ELO CUTIONARY and SEWING and DRESS MAKING DEPARTMENTS. WINTER TERM OPENS JAN. J, IH9O. Send postal for Illustrated catalogue, GEO, i'. LLTIILK, A. M., Principal. KPIRIIST TIHSTG- I ° r ,w'.lf ,y doficidptloti executed nt short I notice by the lribuue Company.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers