FREfUID TRIBUNE. I:NTAUI.IKIII;I> ists. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, BY THE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Liinitel OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE < INTKE. LONG DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUIISCKI I'TION KATES FREELANI).— I'HETUIBT'NE is delivered by carriers to subscribers in Freeland at the rate of 1-Mi cents per month, payable every two months, or $1 50a year, payable in advance* The THIDUNE may be ordered direct form the carriers or from the office. Complaints of irregular or tardy delivery service will re ceive prompt attention. BY MAIL —The TRIBUNE is sent to out-of town subscribers for $1.51 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 be made at the expiration, other wise the subscription will be discontinued. Entered at the Postoffloe at Freeland. Pa., as Second-Class Matter. Make all money orders, checks. etc. t pny able to the Tribune I'rinting Company, Limited. The world will applaud Lord Rob erts's manly appeal to the English stay-at-liomes not to degrade the re turning soldier by a debauch of wel come. Not the least interesting feature ot the election was the vote in the four States of Wyoming, Colorado, Utah and Idaho, in which women voted on terms of perfect equality with uien. Rotterdam from its favorable situa tion lias gradually pulled ahead of Amsterdam and is now the most pros perous harbor in Holland. It lias cap tured most of tlio German trade and does an immense business with the United States. Five thousand persons in Glasgow, Scotland, have combined to start a telephone exchange in that city. It is believed that it will pay running ex penses, at an annual outlay of $27.25 for each subscriber. Now the charge of a private corporation is SSO. An eminent London surgeon, Dr. Treves, has expressed the opinion that genius is only "an untaliulated nerv ous disease." The London Spectator makes a protest against this opinion and insists that to repudiate genius is to repudiate one of the highest at tributes of life. The Railroad and Engineering Re view notes the fact that the profes sion of railroading is four times as dangerous as that of the soldier in time of war. During the year ending June 30, 1000, more than 51,000 rail road employes out of a total of 227,000 were killed or injured at their calling, while during the same period only 1010 out of an army of (53,000 In the Philippines suffered in the same man ner. That the United States is far ahead of ctller countries as regards popular art education is one of the most pro nounced deductions to be drawn from the exhibition at the Paris Exposition. The drawing and color work of Chi cago public school students is away and beyond anything shown by the public schools of Great Britain, France or Germany. Nor does the work of our leading art schools up to a certain point compare unfavorably with that of European schools. The very gen erally excellent ideas and methods now finding place in domestic educa tional methods is sure to bear great fruit iu the next generation or two. A feature of the postal system in the United Kingdom, which has not yet been made a part of the United States Is t'io telegraph. This is a branch of the service that has made great strides, being about on a par as regards tho rapidity of its growth with the postal tard branch. The number of messages Increased from 39,14G,283 In .1880 to <0,415,123 in 1900, an increase of about 530 per cent, in the decade and a half. )t is only about thirty years since the transfer of the telegraphs to the pos tal system, but in that period the num ber of messages has increased over ninefold, the messages sent in 1870-71 numbering only 9,850,177 Washing'.on Never Had Any Riot. T.et it be remembered that Washing ton is the one capital which knows not the inob and has formed no acquaint ance with the riot. Call the roll of the nations' capitals, and there is evoked the cinemtograph of troops and police charging the sans culottes, of artille-y lending its bass to the shrill tenor of the Marseillaise, of governments over thrown to placate the Commune, of barricades springing up at every corner, and anarchy reigning rampant. Wash ington points with pride to its solitary riot. It remembers the awkward quar ter of an hour when the redoubtable Coxcv walked across the grass of the Capitol and was promptly arrested by a single policeman, and with his arrest the "Army of the Commonweal" resolved itself into its original unwashed ele ments. Thus perished in ridicule Wash ington's one "riot."—Atlantic Monthly. ' CITY STREETS^ND COUNTRY ROADS. The preen road, the clean road; it is so ! broad and high; It stretches from the happy sea to touch the happy sky. J Oh! I laughed once to forsake it, but I'm longing now to lake it— The green road, the clean road, that is so broad and high. I The gray street, the gay street; how eol ; eninly it shines! j The sun imprints his pleasures, but there's I pain between the lines, i Oh, 1 smiled at first to sec it, but I'm ! r eager now to lice it— , The gray street, the gay street, how sol emnly it shines! The pure love, the sure love, comes over me like rain; The tinsel of my heartless love is turn ing poor and plain. Its my life I have been giving just to make a decent living. It s my all I have been losing just to get a little gain. The nest song, the best song, is crying swift and sweet; The tune's within my bosom, but the time's not in my feet. Ah! they only sing for pity, do the voices in the city. Did you ever hear a homely song sound happy in the street? The gray street, the gay street, for me it holds no rest, Not even when the summer sun is sailing down the West; And I cannot find my pleasure in a road mv sight can measure, From the little room I dwell in with a memory for my guest. The green road, the clean road, it is so broad and high, It stretches from the happy sea to touch the happy sky. Oh, to rise and part with sadness! oh, to move and meet with gladness, I On the green road, the clean road, that | is so broad and high, j —J. J. Bell, in Chambers's Journal. O3333OOOOOOOCOOwOQC3wOOOQOp 8 THE MINISTER'S WIFE I By Mary c. OOOOOOODOOCCOCOOOOOOCOOOOO THE arrival of the new min ister in Locust Hollow, as the pretty village was called, was regarded a3 quite an event by the congregation. A new | minister is always an object of interest | to his people for a month or two, then the interest flags, and finally he is ac cepted as a matter of course, and— generally to his delight—is no longer ' fussed over. But this particular divine seemed j likely to keep speculation going for a longer period than the customary nine ! days, and, being a somewhat humor ous fellow, he thoroughly enjoyed it. For the Reverend Jerome Grant was unmarried —warranted by the gossips to have no lady love—young, handsome and possessed of a private income, which made salary a secondary consid eration. Perhaps that was as well, for the Locust Hollow flock were not any too prompt about paying ministers' salaries, and, if one might judge by such things as yearly reduction of the ! same, were willing, as one young fel low said on a certain occasion, that the particular clergyman who had the | leading of that particular people, 1 should be allowed to "live entirely by ' the grace of God." | Now, in Locust Hollow, there were a number of very plump and pretty girls, with a few slim, graceful damsels; but I the plump ones outnumbered the slim, as always is the case in country vil | lages, with fresh air, healthy diet, reg | ular hours, and no heavier dissipations : than a picnic or two yearly, in some ' giove in the village, with swings I among the trees, c light lunch spread on a cloth laid over the grass, and per chance a dance on the green, performed by the merry young people, with less grace than zest, is it wonderful that cheeks remain round and eyes brilliant i in such places as Locust Hollow? ! Among the very plumpest of the vil lage maidens was Gussic Elliston; and Miss Gussie's blue eyes and radiant red-and-white complexion seemed to have found favor in the eyes of Mr. Grant, for he speedily placed himself on familiar footing at the long, low farm-house, where he met with very warm greetings from the farmer and his wife, and dimpling smiles and shy blushes from their daughter. Among the very slimmest and palest of those who listened to the young minister Sunday after Sunday was Louise Vennevale, the daughter of a helpless widow, who lived a little out of the village, and who had therefore escaped the knowledge of Jerome for some time. Perhaps Louise's cheeks would have had more color in them and her eyes less of that wistful tenderness, did not the burden of her own and her invalid mother's support fall on bet slight young shoulders. But day after day—on cold, dark days, when winds swept weirdly by the little cottage—on warm, wooing days, when her pulses throbbed with longing* to he out among the violets —she sat quietly at the little window, her brown head bent over the sowing in her hands, the garments to be worn by more fortunate ones than herself, ] which she with deft fingers fashioned. Jerome had noticed the girl's sweet, patient face, and wondered why he only saw it on Sunday—wondered how it was he had never seen it in the many homes that had been open for him to enter at, a welcome guest. But Gussie's blue eyes had been enough like violets to make him speed ily forget the wistful brown ones, and It was not until he had been installed at Locust Hollow foi three months, and had begun to think that Gussie El liston would make a very sweet min ister's wife, that accident brought him to the door of the cottage which the Widow Vennevale and her daughter occupied. It was warm; the young man was too, and tired, from a long ramble; he was thirsty, as well; and so, after hes itating a few moments, he knocked lightly on the open door, intending to ask for a glass of water. His knock had not been beard, evi dently, for nobody replied to It; and while he waited, a low, murmuring voice reached him from a room within, just hidden from him by a tiny box ol a hall. "I did my best, mother," girlish tones answered, wearily; "and I thought it very nice. I often wonder how people can say such harsh and cruel words to me, when I try so hard to please them. Mother—my poor mother —it is very hard to be poor; to be a woman, and poor—there's nothing harder in this whole wide world!" The sweet voice had taken more than weariness on its music. It became pas sionate and bitter, and ended in a burst of sobs. The young man was profoundly touched, hut he lifted his hand once more and knocked mare loudly. This time he was heard, and a light but languid step crossed toward the door. In a moment Louise Vennevale, with undried tears on her long lashes, was looking at him with wondering eyes, brown as hazelnuts. He held out his shapely hand. "You are one of my people, are you not?" he questioned, with a smile. "I have not called before, but you will pardon that, and bid me enter now, will you not?" "Certainly." And she led him into the tiny room, where Mrs. Vennevale lay on a sofa, frail and helpless. "Mamma," she said, quietly, "this is Mr. Grant. He has come to see you." And, greatly to the young man's dis appointment,' after placing a chair fox him beside the sofa, she glided out. j He remained almost an hour con versing with the invalid. He heard the pitiful story—too sadly frequent fox men to mind it much to-day, in theix busy, selfish lives; the struggles to purchase a little home for wife and child by the stalwart young farmer,! who had only his strong hands and honest heart to rely on; then the long, lingering illness of the woman, during which the first mortgage had fallen on the farm; then the sudden death, by sunstroke, of the man, and the helpless widow's efforts to educate her only child, before allowing the girl to take; up the weary burden that now had been borne for font years with gentlest and tenderest patience. "it breaks my heart to see her work at her sewing from morning till night, and often half the night," Mrs. Venne vale said, in conclusion, her eyes dim with tears. "And sometimes she has 1 to take sitch insolence, too. That is very hard to bear. To-day Miss Gus sie Elliston came for a dress she had left for Louise to make, and she found so much fault, and said such cruelly unkind things, that my heart ached for my daughter. Did you notice that Louise had been weeping when you came in?" "I noticed that she looked very pale and weary," he answered, wondering if he had mistaken the character of Miss Gussie so completely, when he thought she would be so sweet a minister's wife, so truly a helpmeet to one who had chosen that most arduous ot all positions—to be the spiritual adviser i of a village full of people. It was with a pang at his heart that he began to think the blue eyes and fair face of the girl who had smiled so Ehyly at his coming might but be a mask for a cold and selfish heart. "There is a picnic in the birch grove on Monday," - Mrs. Vennevale went on, ! "and it was for that Miss Gussie want ed this particular dress. My poor child cannot go, or, rather, she will not, for j she never leaves me, urge her as I may. She was just saying how hard it is to ho a woman and poor when you j came, Mr. Grant. Yes. he had heard her say the words, j but did not say so. Instead, he stood 1 up and took the weak hand of the woman. "1 do not think I will join the merry makers on Monday, either," he said, pleasantly. "My dear madam, you and I have been strangers too long. Let I me come here on Monday and become better acquainted with you. So, when Gussie Elliston, arrayed in the pretty, dainty muslin, which was really very well made and well fitting, ! and set off her blue eyes and fair com- | plexion to advantage—was watching | for one face vainly in the grove of birch, that masculine face was turned : toward a window in the little cottage of the Vennevalcs, as which a girl sat 1 sewing, with her bent brown head and I eyes alight. Gussie met him next after the morn ing service on the following Sunday, ' when they encountered each other at i the door of the church. She cliided him playfully for his ab sence from the picnic, but he only | si iiled, and. after a few pleasant words, \ passed on and joined Miss Louise Ven nevale. with whom ho walked through ►the whole village, leaving her at the cottage gate. It was only three months later that a pretty gutliic dwelling shot up rap idiy beside the church, not at all mind ful, apparently, of the deluge of con jceture and remark it brought to Lo cust Hollow. And when it was completed, Jerome Grant took his bride and her mother to it. one golden day in late autumn, and Louise Vennevale, the snubbed and slighted dressmaker, was that bride. Strange to say, Gussie was one of the first to call, as she whispered to her intimates, "out of pure curiosity." Of course, as the minister's wife, Louise had to be civil to her, laying aside the past—Saturday Night. The Object of the AHHociation. In Elberfield a friendly society has been started among the old and worn out soldiers and pensioners, entitled the Distelbeck Club. The first para graph of its printed rules Is as follows: "Object of the association: The bur- | lal of its members." We don't seem as if we cared to read any more.—Durnen Journal. |P| IBeww* Botes \fQ WEht A Military Touch 011 Clowns. A military touch 011 gowns anil sep arate waists for youthful wearers is just now the correct finish. This is brought out very prettily by using a band of red velvet for the standing col lar and trimming it with rows of very narrow gold braid, put on in tiny coils or straight lines. The collar may be all of red if the color of the waist will permit it. This is illustrated on a waist of cream-white creped satin whore the collar is of red satin, nearly covered with lines of fine gold braid 1 and matching cuffs and pointed girdle. The Migration of the Cuff* "Rings on her fingers and" buckles, if not "bells, on her toes," 'fflU satisfy the fair one if she be not pro vided with the latest novelty in dress — a pair of cuffs on the elbow of her 3leeves. Cuffs are supposed to belong to the terminal of the sleeve; one looks for a plain band at the wrist, or for cuffs of different shape. The shoulder 1 , epaulettes or "sleeve caps," are often | cuffs in effect, only applied at the armsize instead of at the wrist. In its migration from wrist to shoulder the cuff has now paused mid way on the sleeve, at, or just above, 1 the elbow joint. It is only used where the sleeve has a bruffaut undersleeve, or middle third, simulating this full ness. The elbow cuff is placed above ' the undersleeve, marking the point where the upper arm sleeve descends as a sheath over that covering the forearm. I Two cuffs are commonly used at each elbow. One is set slightly inside and the other rises above it. Both are high on the outside of the arm, and curve down to an inch-wide strip at the in side of the curve of the elbow. Both cuffs are of cloth, and are invariably piped with velvet of the same shade, or one slightly darker than that of the cloth cuff. Sometimes the lower edge of the undersleeve is gathered beneath a similar cuff of "cloth, piped with vel vet at the wrist. A Woman's Lonely Ride. Miss Sarah M. Burks is probably the only woman mail-carrier in the West, and her route is one of the most deso- J lato conceivable. From St. John's to Jimtown, A. T., she travels twice a week, covering a distance cf 208 miles, as the towns are fifty-two miles apart. The intervening country is practically a wilderness, the settlers being few and far between. It would be difficult to imagine a more uninviting region than that tra | versed by Miss Burks. What tiny j streams are found there are poisoned I with alkali. Navajo Indians and occa i sionally an Apache are somewhat plentiful, but white men seldom go there, and then only to get the gold, silver and copper. Nothing in the way of vegetation can grow there. It is simply a region of rich minerals depos- I ited in titanic volcanic action ages ago. I Along the western border of this des olate, uncanny wilderness Miss Burks rides twice a week. Generally she is . alone, and if she has a companion he is likely to be a miner, a commercial I traveler, or, mayhap, a lawyer, who has rented a house from Miss Burke's ! father, and she is to collect payment | and seo to the care of the horse. She is always armed with shooting irons, | and when a child she was the crack shot of the mining camp at Harqua Hala. —Kansas City Journal. The Self-Conscious Woman, j It is no libel on the sex to say that ; all women are instinctively fond of dress. It is a fact that is*self-evident to everybody, even to the women them selves. It is nearly as true, if not equally, that all women are clothes-conscious. A man may he dressed either in his ! best or his worst, and he is, apparently, j quite unaware of it. But a woman I never forgets any detail of the gar- I ments which environ her. She is all j the time on the watch lest some ele | ment of her clothing he out of kilter j or in a position or condition where it : cannot assert itself to the uttermost : or hide away most covertly, either as 1 the object may be display or conceal l ment. 1 Possessed of the idea that the plac j quet of her gown is gaping, or that the I fastening of her belt is not as it should j be, you see her hand coming around to ! investigate; then she has to feel of her ! back hair to make sure that it is in I presentable condition; next her hat has | to be straightened, or she is impressed | that her rear collar button is misbehav ing. And so if you walk in front or behind a woman, you will notice—if you are of the noticing kind —that she has her hands full and her mind occu pied by her clothing. It is really a wonder that wom?n have any thought for other matters. That they do think of other things while apparently thinking of nothing but the clothes they stand in may be accepted as proof of their superiority over the biped, man. No man could be as clothes-conscious as the women are and attend to business. Columbus (O.) Dispatch. I Care of the Voire. The culture and training of the voice is one of the best means of promoting the general health. Thi3 is due mainly to the formation of correct habits of breathing. One cannot sing or speak well without understanding the action of the lungs. These have been likened, in their importance and use to the vocal cords, to the bellows of the organ. The lungs are never emptied ' of air in breathing. In ordinary breathing very little of tho air which fills them is displaced. In forced ex piration, such as accompanies singing, I the old, "residual air," as it Is called, is forced out, and replaced by fresh air. This in turn stimulates the circulation, and thus the whole processes of the body are helped and vitalized. The greatest injury is done to the delicate mechanism of the larnyx by frequent colds. The vocal cords are thickened and inflamed, and sometimes injured beyond repair by these repeat ed inflammations, many of which occur in childhood. One should not be over whimsical about draughts, but it is true that they are Injurious to the vocal corrls. The latter are also very suscep tible to the evil influences of irritating conditions. Air laden with impurities, such as smoke or dust, passing through the narrow passage formed by the vo cal cords leaves its deleterious impress upon them.—Dr. Grace Peckham Mur ray, in Harper's Bazar. WftEN Am Mrs. Dewey is to have precedence over Mrs. Miles in processions through the White ttouse. A number of clever women in Balti more, desiring to earn money, have started mushroom farms in their cel lars. The Ameer of Afghanistan has had a woman for a medical adviser, and this woman, Miss Lillian Hamilton, is about to publish a story of Afghan life. In various parts of Ireland are branches of co-operative creameries where capable women, as manager esses, are paid as high as twenty shil lings a week. Mrs. Lucretia Hale, who died recent ly at the age of eighty years, was the originator of the movement in Boston for vacation schools. Mrs. Hale is also the author of many books for children. The Countess Tolstoi, despite the care of a largo family, for she is the mother of thirteen children, and the entire management of an estate, finds time to assist her husband in his liter ary labors. Shreveport, La., has a woman as clerk of the police court Mrs. Dur ringer receives the same salary as the men who have held the place, and as she has held it many years, it may be assumed that she deserves it. Miss Balfour, the sister of Arthur J. Balfour, government leader in the House of Commons, is noted for her devotion to her brothers' interests, and she manages most of his affairs, so as to leave him entirely free for his polit ical work. Miss Ella Groendyke, of Indiana, has been sent to Sierra Leone, where the massacres of missionaries occurred a year ago. Miss Groendyke had spent four years in Africa. She will under take to reconstruct the mission build ings which were destroyed at the time of the siege. The Misses Edith and Ethel Long, of Lafayette, Ind., twelve years of age, are twins, and expert rifle shots. They shoot together at difficult targets, and seldom miss. The remarkable skill of the twins has attracted much atten tion, but none of the many offers to ap pear in public has ever been consid ered, as they are strict amateurs. Mme. Ceraski of the Moscow Ouserv atory, has at various times contributed data to the science of astronomy. Two years since she first discovered a vari able star of the Algol type—that is, having its light diminished at regular intervals by a dark companion revolv ing around it—and still more recently a second Algol variable has been dis covered by her. ' E Flounces of various widths adorn cloth frocks. Bright green veils are no longer worn by well-dressed women. Severely plain velvet costumes will be used for street as well as carriage frocks. The ever useful and becoming top coating is a popular material for tailor- ' made suits. Boleros are now made of narrow rib- I bon and lace insertion, to be worn over silk waists. Frosted gaur.e in new material called givrine is used for evening gowns, \ which are also made of embroidered 1 tulle. The new ftir muff is long, flat, en tirely without stiffening, and has two rows of tails, one at the top and one across the lower edge. Reversible satins are used extensive ly on winter hats, and for linings, facings, draperies, choux, tea-gowns, accordion-plaited petticoats, founda tions for lace and velvet opera wraps, etc. The latest French jewelry is in hand beaten gold. Classical designs decorate the surface bordered with beaten gold, and the novelty in long chains is seen ! in hand-chased gold without any jewels. The most novel bolera has a Watteau pleat in the back. This style is not to bo commended to the stout woman. The belted bolero, set into a band at the waist, also is fashionable and is decidedly smart In appearance. Natty French jackets of covert cloth are made from loose fronts, without dart seams, double breasted, and fin ished with three graduated circular shoulder capes, the roll of the lining showing like a silk or satin piping at the extreme edge of each cape. ! A very clever combination of colors j employed by a daring modiste is blue, ] yellow and silver. The frock is of pale ' blue satin, with embroideries of silver 1 opening over panels of lemon-colored chiffon. On the bodice there is a fetch ing little silver bolero lined with the yellow chiffon.. TO THE PV.BLIC. My apre is fourteen months or so; I've taught myself to walk. But I am not concerned to know Ifow I shall learn to talk; In fact, how any babe who lives Both day and night among 11 is idiotic relatives Can learn the English tongue. And therefore I would make it clear (Nor deem the act amiss) — What chance have we when all we hear Is language such as this: "Ze pccious sing!" "01' wootsy woots!" "His muzzer's tunnin' pet!" "Ze itty, pitty, witty toots!" "Now what does danma det?" They tell me that a drink's a "dink;" My lingers "fingies" are; That think is "sink,? or also "link;" And that a ear's a "tar." With "tumpty tump" and "bow wow And" "di'ddly, diddlv, dec." And other phrases that, 1 vow, Are useless, quite, to me. t3o when from mother, aunt and all I've gained a moment's grace. With none to clutch me lest I fall, Or stare n;e in the face, Fve printed out this statement rude (The letters learned with pain From cans of patent baby food), And hone 'tis not in vain. —Edwin L. Sabin, in the Woman's Ilonnr Companion. , HUMOR OF THE DAY. Hoax—Bjones has invented a flying machine. Joax—l always thought he was sort of flighty. "How did the count betray himself?" "He forgot where he was and polished all the plate with a napkin." He —I make it a rule never to argue with a woman. She—All right. Let's get married.—Chicago Times-Herald. "What has Simpkins left Wall street for?'V "He is ambitious to earn enough money to buy a seat in the Stock Ex change."—Life. lie led her to the nltar, 'Twas merely tit for tat; He ltd her to the altar. She led him after that. —Philadeli liia Press. "Did you know there are minute parasites in all of man's blood ves sels?" "Say, they must feel as if they had lived in vein." —Cleveland Plain Dealer. "Do you know, baron, that my futuro son-in-law has unexpectedly inherited a fortune?" "Indeed? Lucky fellow! Then he doesn't need to marry at all!" —Heitere Welt. With Cupid and his love-tipped dart The times are cut of joint; The arrow now tor maiden's heart Must have u diamond point. —Brooklyn Life. Judge—Prisoner at the bar, have you anything further to state in your de fense? Prisoner —No, your honor. I only ask you to deal me as you would with yourself if you were in my place. —Green Bag. "Lobsters," remarked the proprietor of the restaurant, "are scarce and high priced this year." "They may be high priced," sighed the honest police cap tain, "but they're not scarce. My de partment is full of them.''—Chicago Tribune. "Have you seen my umbrella?" asked one gentleman of another. "What sort of an umbrella was it?" "It had a hooked end." "I have not seen it," was the reply; "but I had a nice one once, and it had an end exactly like yours. It was hooked!" "I suffer dreadfully from insomnia, doctor," said the patient. "Indeed," re plied the physician; "we'll soon correct that." And he did, for this particular physician was able to procure for his patient a situation as night watchman. —Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph. A T.ryvml of the Violin. An ancient legend tells us that one day as Orpheus, son of Apollo and the muse Calliope, was walking by the sea, trilling in soft cadence a song taught him by the celebrated teacher Linos, he was attracted by the sound of sweet music, which seemed but the echo of his own glorious voice. lie walked along, singing, and the sound approached, as if to meet him, till fin ally it sang at his very feet. Glancing down, he saw the shell of a turtle, which had been cast high and dry upon the beach and left there by tbe receding waves. The little thing had died and dried up so that only the sinews, shriveled to strings, and the shell remained. The dried up sinews were tightly stretched across the hollow shell, and the wind, as it listed, touched the strings, causing them to vibrate over the shell sound ing board and give forth the sweet,, sad tones. Enchanted, ho bore his treasure home and from it fashioned the viol shell, with which he over after accom panied his voice, and the nymph, Eury dice, enchanted by its magic, became bis bride. The "King r Thieves. Three suspected Individuals, relates the Paris Figaro, were recently ar rested on the Boulevard * by the police and conducted to the commissariat of the Salute Avnye quarter. One of them, Alfred Deso bry. owing to his sobriquet of "the king of thieves," was specially inter rogated by the commissalre himself, M. Simnnd The Interrogation con cluded, the magistrate went to dinner. But no sooner had he arrived at home than he noticed that his watch and pockctbook had disappeared. Ho re turned quickly to Ills office, thinking he had left them on the table, but lie sought in vain. Just as he was aban doning his search an Inspector in formed him that Desobry wished to see him to make a most important communication. That indivdunl on being introduced, said, smilingly: "Monsieur, permit me to restore to you your watch and pockctbook. I took them in order to justify in your eyes my title of 'king of thieves/ I am at the bottom, as you see, more honest than you had supposed."—Loudou Teh esnt*b.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers