FREEUIM TRIBUNE. ESTAIILISI11JI 18S8. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY. WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, lIY THE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited OFFICE; MAIN* STUEET ABOVE CENTKE. Lorn; DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUBSCRIPTION KATE* FREELANI).— rheTionUNE is delivered by carriers to subscribers in Freelnnd at the rate of IJUj cents per month, payable every two pionths, r slsoa year, payable in advance- The Tin HUNE may bo ordered direct form the carriers or from the • flice. Complaints of Irregular or tardv delivery service will rc ceivt prompt attention. BY MAIL —The TltiiiUNE is sent to out-of town subscribers for $1.50 a year, payable in advance; pro rata terms for shorter periods. The date when the subscription expires is on the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must bo made at the expiration, other wise the subscription will be discontinued. Entered at the Postofflco at Freeland. Pa., as beeoud-Class Matter. Make all money orders, checks, etc. ,p iyhls to the Tribune Printing Company, Limited. Tesln's latest discovery scorns to be nothing more nor less than the fact that electricity can be kept on Ice. Good news from Galveston. The biggest cargo ever shipped from that port has started for England. Its value is nearly $1,500,000. Galveston's future Is assured. Chicago is to have a symbolical weathor-vane on a tower 300 feet high. It will be a female figure sixteen feet tall, representing "Progress Lighting the Way for Commerce." Thi Medical Record says: It is bet ter to confess ignorance than to as sume false knowledge. Iu spite of the careful study that has been given to the subject of gout, it must be ad mitted that we are yet uninformed as to its exact nature. Ever.- now and then some millionaire) arises to assure the world that money cannot buy happiness. This seems to bo one of the great sad truths of life which can only be learned by expe rience, and everybody insists on doing liis best to make a personal test of the matter. ( Material for rebuilding the South 1 African railroads damaged during the , Boer war is to he supplied by the TJni- I fed States. The njinounceinent has ' ■caused grea* dissatisfaction in Eng- 1 lisli commercial circles. It is sorrow fully admitted that the American man- j ufaeturer is gradually beating the j Britisher on his own ground, and ! complaint is made that Englishmen | are to have no part in the business that ' is to follow a war fought and wou by them. The Prussian <Soteinment is mak- j ing systematic inquiries with a view j to increasing knowledge upon the sub- I ject of cancer. Every registered phy- j 6iclan has received a paper asking I questions relative to experience in j cancer cases. An attempt is being j made to find out if cancer is heredit- j ary, if it is contagious, and whether | it is connected with any particular i habit, such as over-indulgence in alco- 1 liol, tobacco, etc., and whether it is i >iore prevalent in one district than in J another. Is the query, "What shall wo do with our girls?" to become a serious economic problem in the United States? It is declared that the excess of wom en over men in Now York City is 25,000. 'There lias long been, from a matri monial point of view, great numbers of superfluous women in Now Eng land. But the surplus of women in the East, it has always been pointed out, is offset by a surplus of men in the West. Now, however, comes word ! from Colorado that men are declin- j ing there. Recent statistics show that women outnumber the men. The extension of the free delivery of mails to populous rural districts in which the service promised to be dis tinctly advantageous and feasable has been the most notable recent achieve- | ment of the Postofllce Department. Over 2000 routes have been established j and nearly 1,500,000 families are served with a daily meal at taeir doors. Free delivery makes practicable the aboli tion of many small postoffices, with resultant saving, and at the same time leads to a larger use of the mails for the quick dispatch of parcels as well u* uf letters and newspapers. South Carolina negroes have started a new industrv by the hand-picking of phosphate rock. During the summer they anchor boats on the Coosaw river, which is from 17 to 25 feet deep, and dive for the'fertilizing rock, sometimes bringing up a fragment weighing too pounds. The phosphate from the river bed is the most valuable known. A burglar stole S6OO frotn a resident of St. Paul, Minn. The next day he re turned that sum and s2£o to boot. jT An Awkward Blunder. t 7 * 5 A BY SOPHIE SWETT. P "Miss Mildred Brewster requests the pleasure of your presence at a small i musieale at her house Wednesday evening. June sth." The girl to whom the note was nd | dressed read it with flushing cheeks j and a cry of delight. She started to her feet, dropping Miss | Floy Parmenter's wedding-dress in ; a billowy heap on the floor, and ran to the door of the fitting room of the ' dressmaking establishment. But her mother was busy trying a ! dress on Mrs. Commodore Skreene and : could not be hurried, and the girl | turned back, impatient to announce the | news. She whirled about in a little dance | before the cheval-glass in the privacy I of the inner room. Catching up Miss ! Parmeliter's wedding-dress, she held : the shimmering folds b fore her. i "How shall 1 look in an evening : gown?" she wondered, ecstatically. "Oh, I suppose I am too silly, but I have been so hungry for good times j of my own kind! They are my own j kind, those girls of Mildred Brewster'** set, though 1 didn't suppose they'd ever acknowledge it. They never took the least notice of me when I went—so frightfully shwbby!—to the high school with them. And Mildred Brewster ! seemed especially proud—although she was kind to get us tin* naval people for patrons. A musieale, too! 1 won | der how she knew I should like that. ! It may he that her brother Stanley : has heard me singing in the garden j when he has been canoeing on the j river. "O mother, dearest!" and she turned to her mother, who had finally got ; through with Mrs. Commodore Skreene ; and now stood in tin? doorway. "An ! invitation for me from Mildred Brews ter to a musieale! When I opened the envelope I thought, of course, she had only written about the chiffon lor her pink waist." | "I don't know why she shouldn't in i vlte you," said the little worn woman, her seamy cheeks growing red with pleasure. | "They are very aristocratic—"very proud of their old family. They live i In a colonial house a hundred years old, j with family portraits and old silver i and things; and you mul I mother,dear, | are nobodies. 1 trim Mildred's pretty ! gowns and she sends us her father's ! checks. Those are the only relations that are to be expected between her and me." "She hasn't seemed to think so," said her mother, quietly, but with a thrill in her voice. Mentally she vowed* that, whether money were plenty or scarce, Betty should go to the musieale in a lovely gown. For she knew all about the hunger for good times and girls, although never a word had been said. Mother eyes are sharp. Meanwhile the postman had left a missive in Miss Mildred Brewster's handwriting at one of the old colonial houses, "with family portraits and old silver things." It was addressed to Miss Frances Penliallow, and that young lady, who was Mildred's dearest friend, said she knew without opening it that it was an invitation to Mildred's musieale. She opened it, nevertheless, and drew her brow into a frown as she read: "Dear Miss Martin: Will you be so kind as to take the very greatest pains in matching the pink chiffon to my wait? I am sure I can trust your exquisite taste, but I should feel it to be such a calamity if that delicate shade of pink silk were to be spoiled by a deeper shade of trimming. "Hastily, "Mildred Brewster." "Just like Mildred! She lias 'mixed: those children up!'" exclaimed Miss Penliallow. "This note was meant for Betty Martin, the dressmaker'js daugh ter. And she has probably got my in vitation! I'll drive round there and carry this note, so that Mildred's waist may be sure to be all right. She has more faith in those people than she has in Madame Foutenelle. I think I'll get mamma to try them. I remember that the girl looked poor and forlorn when she went tot school, but she Is really effective now, she wears such good gowns. And there is something quaint about her, with her high fore liofd and her little peaked chin and her corn-flower-blue eyes. If she could manage to make me look as she does-" Frances critically surveyed the image of the descendant of the Penhallows in the long mirror, and deliberately "made up a face" at it. It is true that the figure was stocky and the nose thick, and those discouraging points struck the owner of the figure more forcibly than did the honest clearness of the gray eyes, or the sympathetic sweetness of tin* mouth. It was Betty herself who opened the door of the reception-room, and her "quaint" face lighted up at the sight of the visitor. A friend of Mildred Brewster's bore with her a "charmed I atmosphere." | Frances, smiling a little in response to the shy radiance of the girl's face, said: "I remember you at the high school, and 1 think you have such lovely taste!" She felt that Betty's attitude demanded something more kindly than an immediate plunge into business. "I have seen all the pretty things that you have made for Miss Brewster." j "Miss Brewster has been so very kind to me!" said Betty, "lib a thrill in her voice. "She has sent me an in vitation to a musicalo at her house!" She displayed the card with childish simplicity. "I think some one must have told her that I love music," she added, with a doubtful, questioning glance at her visitor's face. For a shadow had fallen upon the honest-eyed face, as Frances under stood, in a flash, that it would be diffi cult to explain the mistake. Difficult! It was impossible, she said to herself, as she caught a quiver of the chin that was cleft at its peaked tii> by a childish dimple. There was a suspicion of mistiness about the corn flower-blue eyes. She did not suspect the blunder. Ilow should she? "I—l want to ask you about your dis engaged time," faltered Frances. "I have been trying to bring my mother here for a long time." Betty became businesslike at once and brought her mother, who, 011 con sulting a thick engagement-book, found that she should have a few days to spare in the course of the month. "Of course, I might have given the message about the pink waist," re flected Frances, as she flecked a fly off her fat pony's back, "but I was afraid she would suspect how things were. She was so pleased! To keep her from knowing that it was a mistake seemed the one Important thing. The pony was forced to go tit a pace which shook his fat sides and caused him to turn a questioning and re proachful eye upon his young mistress, whose views of life generally coincided very satisfactorily with his own. Out on Pnrndice road, just where the air begins to be sweet with the locust trees, Frances met Mildred setting out with her brother Stanley and his friend, Lester Wyraan. Mildred sent the young men 011 ahead, in obedience to nn imperative private gesture from Frances, and then heard the story of the dreadful blunder. "It was stupid of me," said Mildred, with a pucker of her serene brow. "But 1 don't see how she could have thought I meant to Invite her! How awkward for you to have to explain!" "Awkward! I simply didn't explain. She was so pleased about the invita tion! She thought you must have heard how fond she was of music. And I don't think that good times have ever come much in her way. I didn't say a word about your pink chiffon. I thought you would rather leave it to Providence Chan to run the risk of hurting her." "Why of course, anything would be better than to hurt her," said Mildred, slowly. "So far as the pink waist goes, I could write to her about it now. She is perfectly presentable, but I wish it could have happened some other time, if I had got to make such a blunder. I dhl want Lester Wyman, who is a diplomat's son and accustomed to the nicest people everywhere, to meet the very cream of Old Harbor society!" "She's the very creamiest tiling in the town, so far as looks go. and he need never know that a dressmaking sign hangs out over her door! Give the girl a good time, and don't take it so hard," said Frances, sagely, as she touchortthe fat pony with the whip. " *lley, Betty Martin, tiptoe fine!*" The little hard-worked mother gave her girl a playful push toward the long mirror, and the mirror reflected the prettiest gowm that its experience had known. It was of pale blue silk mus lin over pale Wue silk, and to its girl ish simplicity was added the indefiiv able quality known as "style." The* slip of a girl, luer blue eyes wide with lialf-incredulotw delight, looked like a princess—or rather as a princess ought to look and is no more likely to look than any on-® else. But as Betty turned away from the mirror—away, also from her mother's eyes—the delight faded suddenly, as a candle is blown out by the wind, and the sensitive little peaked chin quiv ered with a harm-ting reccollection of the expression on Frances Pen hallow's face ami the forced tone of her congrat ulations. There had been a mistake made, somehow! It was not likely that Miss Brewster had meant to in- vite her. Site said that to herself at one rao nient, and tried to think the next that ! she had grown morbid and fanciful | by much brooding over Frances Pea- ! hallow's look of surprise—a look o-f ' surprise, that was all. She had not j known of the invitation. Petty had < not breathed a hint of her suspicion j to her mother, whose delight had been | even greater than her own. "I would go, for her sake, over red- ! hot plow-shares!" Betty said to her- j self, giving a little kick to her beautl- | ful. shimmering, light blue train. That train was gracefully carried ' on the night of the musicale, and so j was the small, ash-colored head—only a trifle too high. And "a red and a | restless spark" burned on Betty's ! cheek. But when she found, among j all the throng of young people, no stare of surprise, or anything but the friendliest courtesy, she gradually put away even the suspicion that their minds had been prepared, and was gay with the rest. Her neart grew warm toward Mil- i dred Brewster and Frances Penliallow, j who, without singling her out in any i .embarrassing way, constantly took i pains that she should not feel herself a stranger. It grew so warm that when Mildred showed hor chagrin that ! Madame D'AJmati, the charming slng- er of English ballads, had failed to ap pear, she threw her shyness to the winds and said, with evidently a sim ple eagerness to be of service: "Oh, I can sing ballads—if you think anyone wo(ild care to hear ine! I have not a large voice, but it has-been trained. I have an uncle who is a musician." "If—if you will be so good," faltered .Mildred, polite, but as she afterward confessed to Frances Penhallow, feel ing "an awful dread." But the "awful dread" was quite un necessary. Betty had not, as she said, a large voice, but it had the thrilling, pathetic quality, the "wild, weird sweetness" found seldom except in an Irish voice, and most effective of all in simple ballads. Betty made a success. Before she went home, in a carriage from the livery-stable that was only a few doors from the dressmaking establish ment, she had promised to sing at an other inusicale in another of the old colonial houses. "Now we shall know what to do for her!" said Mildred, joyfully, to Fran ces, whom she had kept for a private conclave. "Every one will take her up! She can give parlor concerts, and she can get pupils by the score! We can get her to give up the dressmak ing." But when the plans were matured and laid before Betty Martin, slrj was grateful, but obdurate. "I couldn't teach, it isn't in rue!" she explained. "Mother tried it before she married, and had a dreadful struggle. And father was .a lawyer, when he ought to have stayed 011 the farm. We think, mother and I, that when we are born our work is born with us. We're like the old milkwoman— you've seen her—who took her husband's route when he died. She says it's the work she was born for, whether it's proper work for a woman or not. She says she is like the kings and queens —a. milkwoman by the grace of God. That's the way mother and I are dress makers. I want her to put 'Dress maker, Dei Gratia,' 011 the sign. If I had the voice for a great career, I don't know, it might be different. But as it is, I like to earn my living by the commonplace work that I know I can always do thoroughly well. "There is another little reason—" Betty hesitated and drew a quick breath—"which I'm afraid you will think fantastic and foolish. My little singing gift seems sacred because it was my father's only solace from pain in his long illness; it was our one cheer in the dark days. I can't bear to take it to market!" "It's a little disappointing," said Mil dred to Frances, when they were alone, "but I am not sure that she isn't right. There are so many struggling artists of every kind, and never enough good dressmakers! My pink waist is a dream! Betty Martin, dressmaker, by the grace of God! I really believe she is."—Youth's Companion. QUAINT AND CURIOUS. Elephants have only eight teeth—two below and two above on eacli side. All an elephant's baby teeth fall out when the animal is about fourteen years old, and a new set grows. Cinders from the forest fires 011 Cape Cod were carried by the wind as far as Boston, a distance of almost 50 miles, falling in the streets and in the waters of the harbor in considerable showers. A pet Maltese cat belonging to an English woman has been successfully provided with spectacles to counteract failing eyesight. A picture of a mouse was used by the oculist to test the cat's eyes. In bread-making on an expensive scale less than a third of the time is now taken. One thousand pounds of dough for biscuits is rolled, cut and prepared for baking in three hours and 54 minbtes, as against r>4 hours by liaicd. At a gathering of old folk in the town of Claremont. Mass., the other day the chairman called upon all present who were over 70 years of age to arise, and 72 responded. lie then asked all those who were over SO to stand up, and there were 12 who had passed that limit. A similar call for all over the age of 00 brought four members of the gathering to their feet. | Perhaps the busiest time of the year ! in old Colonial days was November, called "killing time." When the chos | en day arrived, oxen, cows and swine | which had been fattened for the wln j stock were slaughtered early in , the morning, that the meat might bo ; hard and cold before being put in the pickle. Sausages, rolllches and head ; cheese were made, lard tried out and j tallow saved. The Hebrew child in the ago of the ! captivity in Egypt wore only caps. ' The Spartan hoy wore a little coat, as lie dragged his rude wagon at play, and ! other Grecian lads wore simple slips, I much like their elders. Then, during ! the long intervals that elapsed, cus j toms changed, and in the middle ages far more care was devoted to the clothing of the little girls and boys. ; There was a constant approach from that time on to the garb of the grown folks, until with the adoption of the ro ■ coco style, the boy was as elaborately i dressed as his father, in wig and silks | and satins. Quoth tile Tra:: p. "Why don't you go out and hunt fof work like other men?" I "I never was a good sportsman, ! mum." —St. Louis l'ost-Dispatch. A Dally Caller. All tho pood wives in the neighborhood say Dear little Dimplokins rings every day. Smiling, he greets them with, "How do you do? I'm pretty well, and my mama's well, too." Laughing and whistling, he's off with a • bound; So they have named him their "merry go-round." —Clara I). Co well, in October St. Nicho las. The Career of Henry At il<on. The life of Henry Wilson, who rose from the position of cobbler to vice president of the United States, should be an encouragement to every poor boy in America. No one has ever climbed to greatness through more dis couraging circumstances than he. Born at Farmington, N. 11., Febru ary 1(5, 1812, the son of a poor day laborer, his real name was Jeremiah Colbath. For some reason when lie was 21 years old he had his name changed by act of legislature to Henry Wilson. When he was 10 years of age, the future vice-president had to go to work as a farm laborer. lie was for tunate enough to liavo access to books, and he did a great deal of reading. When 21 years old, he walked to Na tick, Mass., learned the trade of shoe making, and by means of it supported himself while he took a course of study in Concord academy. After establish ing a good business as a manufacturer of shoes he entered public life. Soon he became favorably known as a po litical speaker. For ten years he was sent to the legislature and in 1805 was elected to the United States senate, where lie remained until 1873, when he was elected to the vice-presidency with General Grant as president. He died at Washington, November 22, 1875, be fore the end of his term. Although Wilson had exceptional opportunities for becoming wealthy dishonestly, he died a poor man. Charles Sumner said that so poor was Wilson that when elected vice president he borrowed .SIOO from Sum ner to pay the expenses incidental to the Inauguration.—Trenton (N. J.) American. Rninrt Horss in Fire Departments. "If there is any animal that knows more than a horse," remarked a mem ber of the lire department the other day to a writer for the Washington Post, "I'd like to see it. I mean one that knows more than a smart horse, for there are fool horses as well as fool people and once in awhile we get one of these fool horses in the tire de partment. But 1 will say that our horses as a rule are pretty smart and knowing. "1 remember one we had in tills com pany some years ago that actually could count. George was his name, If I could remember rightly, and George was one of those horses that never did any more work than he was obliged to. Not that he couldn't, but just because, like some people you run across, he was opposed to looking for work. Well, every company in the fire department hns a certain district to cover on tirst alarms. That is every company responds to certain boxes on the first alarm and doesn't go to others except on special or general alarms. Well, sir, we didn't have George many months before that horse came to know our district just as well as any one of the men. lie knew the boxes we went out to on the tirst alarm, and It Is a fact that that horse got so that he'd wait and eonnt the tirst round before he'd budge out of his stall. If the box was not in our district George would walk leisurely to his place, but if it was one we were due at on the first alarm he would rush down to his place. In those days we had to hitch up on every alarm that came in, whether it was in our district or not. and stand hitched for 15 minu.es. George knew this, of course, and that was vrhy he'd always take his time going to his place when the box wasn't in our district. And it's a fact that if he was eating when an outside box came in he'd just keep on eating un til tlie foreman yelled out to bring him down to his place. "Of course, now and then George would miscount the box and rush down to his place on a box not in our district. But when he did make a mis take like that, which was precious sel dom, that horse would get so mad and feel so bad about it that he wouldn't get over it for a day or so." The Adventure* of a Cry Cat. Did you ever hear of a cat playing scarecrow And a stuffed pussy, too, at that Not very long ago a lady who loves her garden very much was great ly troubled because of the flocks of hungry sparrows which came in fam ilies and companies, and picked up all the little grass and flower seeds as fast as they were sown. Tlicy were bold, saucy, little fellows, not easily frightened away; and the lady was in despair. "Why not have a cat" some kind friend suggested. But no; a eat would kill the little birds. Then a bright idea came to the lady's mind; and, to her family's amusement, a sleek-looking, gray flannel pussy mounted guard over the precious seeds. How thesparrows twittered and com plained! But not one of them dared brave that flerv-loc> J ug sentinel! All day long puss sat In the middle of the garden. But late In the after noon she mysteriously disappeared; and the watchful birds were quick to discover her absence, so that the lady was obliged to start out on a search for the missing guard. Not very fax from home there sat Miss Fussy on a neighboring perch, looking as dignified as ever. She was Seized upon with great satisfaction, when a door epened, and out came Mrs. Neighbor with a very merry smile on her face. "I must tell you how completely I have been deceived," she exclaimed. "You know how very much afraid of cats I am? Well, my dear friend, I have been standing at my window for some time, clapping my bands and crying 'Shoo!' 'Seat!' to that very life like animal, and feeling much disgust ed that I could not frighten it away!" Both ladies had a hearty laugh over the funny circumstance, but it was yet to be explained bow puss managed to get away from the garden. It was not long, however, before another fancy story came to tho garden lady's cars. Another neighbor, out for a stroll with her baby and two pet dogs, was startled to see one of the dogs dash past, carrying by the neck a large gray cat, shaking it violently as he ran. Mrs. Mother dropped her baby, and started in pursuit, crying: "You* shall not kill that cat! You shall not!" Can you imagine her surprise when she found that she had rescued a puss made of gray flannel and stufful with cotton? She could not guess Its rightful home. So she left it on the step where the dog had dropped it, whence it came once more into the hands of its ojvner, and at last accounts was sitting in quiet dignity under the watchful eyes of the disappointed sparrows. Wonlr* of the Fair. Two of the more peculiar features of the Paris Exposition are thus described by a Writer in St. Nicholas: The wreck of a ship is so armnged that it extends from before our feet Into the ocean depths which are separ ated from us by sheets of glass. This wreck is one which was raised from the harbor of Cherbourg and recon structed here. Fish swam contentedly in and out among the cordage and broken spars; crabs patiently crawl up the sides of the sunken hull and ex plore the mysteries of port-holes. But these inhabitants of the ocean do not constitute the chief attractions. Far in dim, shadowed recesses may be seen, disporting themselves, those water sirens of sea-fairies whose undulating dances below the waves, legend tells us, cause the disturbances of the surface so menacing to mariners. Gliding, twisting, and bending, they rise and fall while a weird music tills the air, as of rippling waves swelling to surg ing tempests and resounding through deep-sea caverns. In another compart ment, the tranquil fish are startled by the swift appearance of two pearl divers or tisliers for coral and sponges, who, holding heir breath, or letting it slowly escape in silver bubbles which rise upward, tread the sea-bot tom in search of treasures. There are times when we long for nature pure and simple, and then it is that the Exposition visitor hastens joy fully toward the Swiss village. Out from the hurry and bustle, the glitter and confusion of brilliant Paris and the dazzling splendors of the Exposition, in a moment's time we may step into the peace and quiet of a pastoral vil lage set in the hollow of an Alpine valley. Mountains tower above us. Part way up their sides stretch grassy pasture-slopes. On a high, distant rocky ledge clusters a group of rude homes of a band of mountaineers, with a tiny chapel in the midst. From an other lofty height a mountain stream leaps over the crags, and after paus ing a bit to lend its aid to the water wheel of a mill below, gurgles and prattles over the stones beyond, and finally goes whispering between grassy banks bordered with wild flowers till it reaches a placid lake on whose fur ther bank protected by an overhanging crag, stands the chapel oi' William Tell. The houses and shops, with their pro jecting eaves, carved balconies and doorways, and curiously shingled roofs, are wonderfully executed copies of real ones. In another part of the village is a group of mountain huts, brought from Switzerland and reconstructed, timber by timber, some with thickly thatched roofs, others covered with overlapping stone slabs, while there are still others whose shingled roofs weighted down by timbers and stones suggest to us something of the violence of the mountain storms. Not a detail of the village has been neglected nor of the natural scenery. All along the side of the brook grow tlie flowers and plants of Switzerland —the blue and white Alpine violets, the mountain pink, clothing in bright dress rough patches of rock, the edel weiss, low purple asters, and masses of the Alpine rose. The wild poppy brightens the landscape withitsorange and gold, and in sheltered spots below the dripping waterfall ferns peep forth. An opening in the side of the moun tain invites us to explore within. Ad vancing through a rocky passage, we seem to come out upon some upper height, with a view of the majestic Alps spread before us. Sunlit valley, wooded mountain-side, distant, spark ling lake, and towering, snow-clad peaks are there. It is only a panorama, but so well and artistically painted that we come away with the sense of having been for a brief half-hour really among the mountains. The most agreeable people in tho world are those who never havo any opinions of their own.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers