MEfillD TRIBUNE.! KSTAIII.TS3! 121) 18S8. PUBLISHED EVEIIV MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, BY TIIK TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Limited | OFFICE; MAIN STREET AMOVE CENTRE, LONG DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUBSCRIPTION KATE* FREELAND.- rhc TRIBUNE is delivered by carriers to subscribers iu Freelandattho rate | of cents per month, payable every two 1 mouths or $l5O a year, payable in advance [ The TRIBUNE may bo ordered direct form tho J 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 §1.5) a year, paynhlo in advance; pro rata terms for shorter periods. The data when the subscription expire!) is on the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must be made at tiie expiration, other wise tho subscription will lie discontinued. I Entered at tho Postoffico at Freeland. Pa., 1 as Second-Class Matter. Make all money orders, cheeks, etc., pay able \ to the Tribune Printing Company, Limited. ! One the paradoxes of life hisur- , fcnee is that the richest men, who need j It least, carry the largest amount of it More young men are studying tlieol- j ogy and medicine in Illinois than in j any other State. although New York i leads in the number ol' law students. ! Truxtun Beale, in the Forum, says that the "absurd and vulgar turo by millionaires impoverishes so ciety and has no economical justifica tion." On 1 lie capture of a smooth footpad in Chicago the other day it developed thai Tic controlled a number of circuits and bad numbers of men robbing for him on commission. This trust busi ness is appalling! During the year that ended on June 30, 1000, 448.572 immigrants arrived in the United States, a gain of forty three per cent, over the preceding year. European labor very quickly finds out when times are good in America. The Philadelphia Inquirer observes; "The truth is that a vast majority of the people of the United States believe in and advocate arbitration for the set tlement of all disputes, but that thus far no one lias hit upon a practicable method of bringing it about." Consul Huglies writes from Coburg, Germany, that in opposition to the de termined vegetarians who condemn all animal food, there is n growing num ber of physiologists who insist that abstention from meat, if continued for ages and generations, is responsible for the feebleness and low intellect of cer tain races. A French engineer named Verller proposes to bore a tunnel under the Mediterranean. According to his sur veys, the length of the tunnel from Vaqueros Bay, in Spain, to Tangiers, in Morocco, would be only twenty-five miles, as the depth of the sea in that vicinity is only 1300 Pet. His esti mate of its cost is $23,729,000. M. Arsene Alexandre, a Parisian crit ic, Jnds the American locomotive sug gestive of the American man because it is "a combination of elegance, prac ticability, convenience and power." It also resembles liiin in its capacity for getting there, a fact which is causing great concern at present to British railway managers. Columbia University lias followed the example of Yale and offered free tuition to five Filipinos. It is to be hoped that enough colleges may do this to give a fair opportunity for a considerable proportion of the bright est of the Filipino youth to bo Ameri canized. and at the same time to testi fy to the people of the islands our good will, remarks the New York Tribune. Judge Itobinson, of Raleigh, N. C., apparently thinks that, clergymen have hi their own hands the power to keep order during divine service. There have been some hints of unseemly do ings in one of the churches there, and his honor in charging the grand jury said: "Be careful how you indict men for disturbing religious worship. If the preacher is the sort of fellow he ought to be people will be paying too close attention to Idm to disturb any body." The mortuary statistics for the Dis trict of Columbia during the past 12 months show a startling rrcord of tu berculosis of the lungs. The mortality from all causes was 5.953. and of these 713 were victims of consumption—an average mortality from this one disease of 13-6Q for each week in the year Kansas City. Kan., is out for a Unit ed States mint. FROM WHEN r WAS A CHILD. I TVhpn I was a child the moon to me Through the nursery curtains seemed to b® A thing of marvel and wio-heiv. The slim white crescent iluathigh In the lucid green of the western skv Was a fairy boat, and the ev nlng" star, A light ou the land where the fairies are. —A. !•:. F., Iu Atlantic. A -A. {GOOD FOR EflL. \ 4 ► | VTVVVVVVVVVTVV | Mrs. Jarvis was a business woman, j Mr. Jarvis had been a mere simper ing, good humored nonentity in his day, giving up all his affairs to his wife's management and when he shuf fled off this mortal coil was not great ly missed. And Mrs. Jarvis consoled herself by opening a suit manu | factory. j Here she sat upon this glorious Au -1 gust afternoon in her own little pri- J vate office, a pen behind her ear and , a pencil between her lips, adding up | a long column of figures—a tall, j portly, finelooking dame, in rich black | silk, with costly jewels sparkling upon j her fingers and that comfortable look j upon the face which accumulating 1 wealth is sure to bestow. ! "Sixteen and six are twenty-two," j said Mrs. Jarvis, resting her pencil ;at the foot of the line. "Two—and j two to carry—eh? Who is there?" ! An apologetic little knock had come ; to the office door —it was Mr. Mad | stone, Mrs. Jarvis' cashier and fore man in general. I "It's me, ma'am, said Mr. Madstone, . whose close-shorn hair stuck up all over his head, like the bristles of a blacking brush. "That Mrs. Pennant is here with her bundles." Mrs Jarvis glanced first at her ledger and then at the calendar that hung on the wall over the desk. "Six hours behind time," said she, austerely. "The order went out at 9 o'clock this morning, minus the 12 suits she was finishing. Tell her to j leave her work and come here for no more. Of course, 1 shall not pay her, I and she may think herself fortunate that she is not compelled to pay the usual fine." 1 "I wish you'd sec her yourself!" 1 blurted out Madstone, scratching his I bristly head. "She looks pale and j sick, and —" "Pshaw!" interrupted Mrs. Jarvis, I rising from her seat, with a rustling of black silk skirts. "You haven't tho | resolution of a chipmunk. Madstone, ( and never had! You'd let all those j girls and women run over you, if it I wasn't for rae." I And she swept through the narrow j door of the office out into the long 1 bare workroom, where tho click of 20 | sewing machines buzzed on the sultry j air and several haggard women waited at the counter. "Oh," said she, stopping short be fore the nearest one, "Mrs. Pennant, you are six hours behind. The order ; has gone." | "I am very Eorry, ma'am," hesitated j the pale woman, "but my daughter , was ill —my little Jessie—and I had | no one to care for her but myself. 1 | sat up all night to finish the suits— | I did, indeed—and—" 1 "All these details make no differ ! ence to me," Interrupted Mrs. Jarvis, i with a sharp, crispy voice. "Business ! is business, and the very soul of it is I punctuality. You may leave your I suits, but don't expect any more work I from here." The poor woman's wan face worked. ! "Mrs. Jarvis," faltered she, "you are a woman, and a mother, like myself. If your child was ill—" j "We won't descend to comparisons, ! if you please," said Mrs. Jarvis, icily. ; "Good-day. I am much occupied at present." I "You surely don't mean, Mrs. Jarvis, | that you are not going to pay me for : what I have done?" cried the woman, j "Why should I?" said Mrs. Jarvis. I "Your work has arrived too late to go |in its regular order. Y'ou have vio lated the rules and regulations of this , establishment, and as a necessary consequence, have forfeited your 1 pay. Hopkins," to the clerk, "take ' these suits into the packing-room." | Mrs. Pennant's lip quivered, her eyes, which had been fu'.l of entreaty, now flashed indignantly. | "Mrs. Jarvis," said she, "I know ! very well that 1 am at your mercy, : but, all the same, this sort of thing looks to me like swindling." ! "I cannot help it —rules are rules," | said the business woman, cold as | adamant. ! "My child lies ill at homo. I had j counted on this hard-earned money to I buy the medicine and necessaries that I she must have. Mrs. Jarvis, for heaven's sake, do not withhold it from me!" "General rules will bear hard upon 1 individual cases," said Mrs. Jarvis, glancing furtively at her watch. "I cannot depart from them, however." Mrs. Pennant lifted her thin hand 3 in an unconsciously tragic attitude. "Woman!" she uttered, "may tho curse of Heaven light upon you for your cruelty to the widow and father less! May He give back into your own bosom, heaped up and running over, the measure you hold so pitilessly to me." And turning away, she left the suit manufactury. amid the breathless si lence of the assembled working women. Mrs. Jarvis smiled and shrugged her shoulders. i "All this is mere rant," said she. "Madstone, bring that last inventory ' into my office." But the next day, when on roach ' ing tho building, as usual, the 20 sewing machine girls found that it had been burned to the ground during the night, they instinctively thought of the widow's curse. It was the janitor's fault. He had gone into the stockroom with a lighted candle, and, started by the springing of a cat, had let it fall too near a basket of waste paper, and an instantaneous conflagration had been the result. And, what was worse, the insurance had run out 011 the evening of the previous day, and Mrs. Jarvis was a ruined woman! Yet she was not easily discouraged. She tried agair, and rallied her forces with true muscular energy, but it was all m vain. There is a tide of fortune in the affairs of everyone—and hers was on the ebb. Ten years afterward a poor, shabby old woman, bent and bowed and dressed in a rusty black, was shown into the silk-hung reception-room of the wife of one of our New York's wealthiest merchant princes. Mrs. Tressilian came in, wondering. She was a fair, pretty young creature of about 20. Mr. Tressilian's second wife and idolized darling. "You sent in no name," said she, as she beckoned the old woman to a seat near the ruby-shining grate. "And I Ido not think 1 know your face. What j is your business with me?" 1 "I am very poor, madam," pleaded ! the old woman. "I sent in no name because I am an utter stranger to you. My only claim is my wretched ness and poverty. 1 have heard that you are good and generous—that of your allowance you give to those who j are less favored by Providence." ! Mrs. Tressilian, deeply touched by | the haggard pallor of the bent old I woman and the tremulous faintuess of ! her tones, had taken out her purse and was unclasping it, when a light touch fell on her arm. "Stop a moment, my daughter," said a soft, low voice, and, turning, Mrs. Treesilian saw at her side a lady with hair white and lustrous as silver and a superb diamond cross glistening in the lace at her breast, while her black I velvet dress trailed noiselessly over : the crimson pile of the Axmlnster car ; pet. "I believe I know this person. If I am not milstaken it is Mrs. Jarvis.' "My name is Jarvis," said the old woman, looking rather surprised. "Yes," said the other, quietly. "I see you have forgotten me. I am the Mrs. Pennant who, years ago, was turned from your employment because, tied ! down to a sick child, she could not be quite punctual to your orders. This," laying her hand on Mrs. Tressilian's shoulder, "is the very child—my little I Jessie—who lay so ill at that time. ! God has prospered us since then. But I you—" "I am a beggar!" burst out poor Mrs. Jarvis, shrinking back from the other's stern, questioning eye. "Heav en help me! 1 have nowhere to lay my head!" "And you come here to beg of 11s, forgetful of how pitiless you once were | to me!" uttered Mrs. Pennant, sternly. | "Oh, forgive me! Be merciful and forgive mo!" faltered Mrs. Jarvis. kneeling at the other's feet. I "I vowed that day, within myself, ) that I would be avenged," said Mrs Pennant slowly. ! "Mamma," pleaded the young wife, I "look at her! Sick, old and poor. God has taken the bolt of vengeance into i His own hand. All that remains to us j is to he mericful." I "My love, you are right," said Mrs. I Pennant. "Rise, my poor woman. You | shall be fc:l, sheltered and aided with money. For the present go to the j housekeeper's room." I And Mrs. Jarvis crept away, with a ! choking sob in her throat. ! The great circle cf fate had accom plished its revolution, and the widow was indeed avenged—avenged all the j more completely in that she had ! learned the lesson of forgiveness.— i New York News. Race notweeii Men unci MHclilnea. The difference in capacity between | a skilled workman and a machine is in some cases simply enormous. A j good matchmaker, without the aid 1 of machinery, is al>le to make about j 8000 matches in a day of eight work ing hours. In the same time a ma chine will make about 17,000,000 matches, or about 200,000 boxes. Dur ing the time which is required by one man to make three matches the machine is able to make 0375, or about 100 boxes. ' During a working day of 10 hours ' even the most expert caudle maker could not draw more than 1000 can ! dies of inferior quality, while modern I machines can make al#out 7000 dur -1 ing the same time. | The average capacity of a brick j machine is about 3000 a day, equal I to the capacity of 10 men during the same length of time. 1 Without the assistance of modern means of transportation a trip around the earth would take about 480 days, while with the assistance of j steam railroads and steamboats it can he made in 70 days. Thus mod ern means of t r ansportation have j practically reduced the size of the earth to travelers to about one-twelfth I its former size. When the gallant Welsh captain, ) David Gam, was sent forwarl by 1 Henry V to reconnoitre the French ! army before the battle of Agincourt, | he found that the enemy outnumbered | the English by about five to one. His report to the king is historic; "There are enough to be killed, en ough to be taken prisoners, and en ough to run away." This quaint fore cast of the result of the battle at once j spread through the camp, and doubt ! less every yeoman-archer or tne valiant company felt an inch taller. We know that it was almost literally | justified by the event. Poor Gam's ; dry humor was equalled by his cour j age. He was killed while in the act | of saving the lifo of his prince.— j Argonaut. 1 LESS MOURNING WORN. A MARKED CHANCE IN THE CUS TOM HERE Iff RECENT YEARS. Tlio T.avitli Use or frcjio Aliaixlonrd — A!ore Freedom of Clioire in tlie Widow's tire Mouruinu; (ittrb of the Men— Alade About Servants* There have been many chances in the styles of mourning in the last 15 years. In America, mourning is certainly growing lighter. It is less worn, and les3 of it is worn. America never did accept the ironclad French rules of mourning observances. In France, everything from the length of the veil to the number of buttons on the gloves is fixed. The exact length of time for each observance is laid down and a veil is shortened, a handkerchief border narrowed, or the engraving cn a visiting card changed by schedule. Individuality doesn't cut any figure, and a departure from precedent is a scandal. The English things are different. The English go into black upon the slightest provocation, but they wear it a very short time and exercise a certain degree of individual taste in Much matters. They may mourn their dead friends and relatives as sincerely as the French do, but they wear their rule with a difference. Per has the inconsiderate fashion in which members of the English royal family have always insisted upon dying during the season has hardened English society to popping into black and out of it with apparent im perturbability. American customs in mourning have followed the English lead, and the in dividual here has always, to a great degree, consulted his own inclination in the matter of mourning clothes and elfquette. Still some general rules have obtained, and it i 3 undoubtedly true that those general rules have been steadily modified and that they tend toward greater freedom of action and less ostentation in mourn ing attire. The lavish use of crepe which was the great feature of mourning iu earlier days has been completely put aside. Crepe, in small quantities, is still used for trimming gowns for first mourning: and the famous dress makers, whose word is law iu matters of taste, contended that a widow's first mourning should always have a touch of crepe, but in mourning for any relative save a husband crepe is not essential, and even a widow rarely wears a crepe veil today. The old fashioned crepe veil, against which physicians for so long raved in vain, has been put aside in favor of the light weight veil of nun's veiling, and even that veil is never worn over the face, as was formerly the custom. The widow's ruche of white in the bonnet is also discardel, which is rather a pity, from an aesthetic vewpoint. Many materials, never until recently considered suit able for mourning, are now admitted, and lustreless black silk is worn in first mourning, though nun's veiling, cashmere, Henrietta cloth and such materials are more popular. Uncut velvet, too, has come to the front, superseding crcpe in many instances as a tlemming for even the deepest mourning. Occasionally whole gowns of crepe are still seen, and New York's most fashionable dressmakers included two gowns fashioned entirely of crepe at sl2 a yard. These gowns were in sisted upon by the customer and the dressmaker stoutly protested against thom, declaring that, though expen sive, they were not the mode. Another wealthy mourner ordered last winter from one of the leading fur houses of the city a large cloak of heavy crepe, reaching to the floor and lined throughout with dark fur. The furrier tore his hair and invoked the gods in protest, but such a cloak the custo mer would have and such a cloak was made for her, the price was SSOO. Such mourning fads are the excep tion, and the desire of the average woman who is obliged to wear mourn ing is to have it as simple and incon spicuous a3 is consistent with good material and cut. If the wearing of mourning is desirable at all a woman should at least be altruist enough, even in her grief, to select becoming black. A good deal of criticism has been expended upon the woman who shows an interest in the selection of her mourning outfit, but self-respect and a certain consideration for the living ought to have a place even in a great sorrow. It is a question, too, whether the lightening of mourning and the dispensing with the show of grief which moralists have been at tributing to the increasing callous ness of our social life isn't, after all, a symptom of altruism as promising as college sentements and domestic science clubs. A rational idea seems to be developing that discourages the forcing of private grief upon public notice, and demands the subordina tion of selfish impulses toward open mourning to the cheerfulness and happiness of the living. The wearing of mourning black by children was never so prevalent in America as in Europe, and has been practiced less an less, until now one rarely sees a child In black. The bonnet and veil worn by young women in mourning for parents are also ob solete. A widow today, if she wishes to follow conventioqal rules in her mourning, will wear dead black for a year. After that she will lighten her black with white or gray for a year, and at the end of that time she can, with perfect propriety, go into colors. Lavender and violet as halt mourn ing are not in use. possibly because of their popularity outside of mourn ing, and there is much less of the gradual shading from black Into colors than formerly. Now one wears black with possibly the touch of white or gray until the period of mourning i 3 ended. Then one plunges into colors with a rush. The widow of olden time who did not wear heavy black tor four yeai-3, and then slid discreetly and almost imperceptibly into colors, was guilty of an inex cusable offence against, good tie's and decorum. Mourning for parents or children conventionally lasts a year, though the period is now in many instances shortened to six months, and for more distant relations six months is considered sufficient to show one's re spect and affection for the deceased. A woman in mourning can today ap pear with perfect propriety in public places where, 10 years ago, her pres ence would have been a sin against decorum, and she can entertain in formally as frequently as she chooses. As for men, mourning apparel for them grows loss and less customary and even a widower seldom affects funeral black. There has been a grow ing tendency among men to assume the black band on the coat sleeve, as a badge of mourning, but this Eng lish custom, though not as some American writers have asserted, con fined to the servants in England, has little to recommend it. American servants are seldom put into mourning for a death in their master's family, though the custom is common across the water. When the practice is adopted it is usually, from a strictly conventional point of view, misused and Americans go ing in for pretentious mourning would do well to remember that only those servants rightfully entitled to wear cockades have a conventional right to wear a crape band on the upper part of the left sleeve, and that according to the inflexible law 3 of livery, in comparison with which the laws of the Modes and the Persians were as wax, only members of the army, navy and diplomatic corps have a right to put cocades upon their servants. Black edged visiting cards and note paper are dropped into disuse along with crape aiAl closed window blinds and seclusion from all society, and the public attitude toward grief, while less historic than it was 50 years ago, is unquestionably more sane. —New York Sun. RECLAIMING ARID LANDS. I.ikrlv to the Next Grout Internal lin lirovetneot of the United State*. A discussion respecting the re claiming of arid lands of the United States was taken up by the Commer cial club at its banquet Saturday night, says the Chicago Record. Prob ably 110 greater physical and eco nomic problem is before the people of the United States at this time, and there probably is no other prob lem which will bring about such far reaching and beneficial results when solved. A fair estimate that has been made of the land that may be made available for cultivation by impound ing waters for irrigation purposes places its area at 10.000,000 acres. It is now practically worthless. With irrigation it is claimed this land would be worth from 5'00,000,000 to per haps ten times that amount, and if not sold it could be rented for from $1 to $5 a year per acre. The necessity for dealing promptly with the prob lem is accentuated by the fact that all over the arid region irrigating companies are now at work obtaining control of vast tracts of land and of the impounding basins by means of which they may be supplied with water privileges and land are being acquired by these companies that will be used as the basis for making ex torttonate demands on the govern ment, should some plan for general improvement bo decided on. Some idea of the importance of the matter may be gathered from the fact that the Republican national platform strongly pronounces in favor of a system of arid land reclamation that will leave the distribution of water on such lands in the hands and under the control of the people of the states and territories where the lands are situated. One of the important features of the reclamation of arid lands by means of impounding reservoirs is the fact that it would be immensely helped to Uie project of improving the great rivers of the west into commercial waterways. A system has been de vised by a number of engineers well posted in the subject which shows that impounding reservoirs built along the Mississippi river would save many acres of land from alternating floods anil droughts and would make possible a channel 20 feet in depth from Lake Michigan, if desired, to the Gulf of Mexico. Undoubtedly the next general internal Improvement of the United States will be a plan' for the reclamation of arid lands, which will work harmoniously with the improve ment of the groat rivers. •• Munic Until Cliarma." The unmusical ear came into pain ful prominence at a recent gay gath ering. The program included a choice assortment of elocutionary ef forts and musical accomplishments, that were supposed to be of the high est order. Among the numbers was a duet between the professor and one of his pupils. Each had the exclus ive use of a piano, and the way they thundered and crashed would have made Paderewski. could he have heard them, rush to the nearest bar ber shop and shave off bis person ality. When the concert was over, and the audience was filing out, a de mure young lady, referring to this par ticular number, remarked to her es cort : "Oh, dear, I can't see why people can't do their tuning up at home !" —Detroit Free Press. JUST AS HE L.EFT THEM. Bis 1 ova arc lying on tlic floor, .List as ho lot 1 them there ; The painted thii. s for keeping store. The little brot.oii elicit : The jumping pig, tin' whistling ball, The duck, the gun. the boat. The funny looking Chln-.ie doll, And bucking billy goat. They lie nbnut. poor, battered things. The rabbit anil the fox. The euekoo with the broken wings. The Jack, sprung from his box. Here lie his nunc, his tangled string. His bow and silver cup-- Because I'm tired of following Around to pick them up. —Chicago Tiiues-llerald HUMOROUS. O'Reilly —Do yez believe in Fate? O'Hoolihan —Do Oi believe in fate! Sure, how ilse could Oi walk? Flatte—ls your boardinghouse up to date? Rooms—You bet. A fel low can't get behind a single week. Wig—Before they married she had him clean out of his mind. Wag—■ And now he has her clean out of his mind. Customer —Give me one of tlioso / nickel pencils. Clerk —Here it is, sir. Hold on! this nickel is iead. Customer—So is the pencil. Ta! ta! Siliicus—l hate to hear a woman continually talking about herself. Cynicus—Now, I rather like it. When she's talking about herself she can't talk about other people. Hoax—Why is the merchant who doesn't advertise like a man in a rowboat? Joax—Because he goes backward, I suppose. Hoax —No; be cause he has to got along without sales. "If that poet comes in tell him I've gone to Kalamazoo," said the editor. "What's up?" asked the assistant editor. "Oh! it's the compositor again," said the editor, wearily; "he made the poet say that a miss is as good as a male." Aslcer —What is your understanding of the Golden Rule? Docs it mean; "Do unto others as you would 'like' to he done by?" Bizness—No; my interpretation is: "Do unto other as you would 'be likely' to be done by." "What is your age?" aslccd the law yer. "Must 1 answer that?" inquired the feminine witness. "You must," said the judge. "Truthfully?" "Yes, truthfully." "O, well if I must I must," sho said resignedly. "My ago is—a secret." "I can't have lost all my good looks,"' said Miss Northside to her best friend. Miss Shadyside, "for I can still obtain a seat in a crowded street car." "Oh, well," replied Miss Shady side, "you know the men will give seats to old age as well as to youth ful beauty." 1 CHILDREN IN HOLLAND. Little Laiti mill Lnssiei in n Scileveulli tteti Kindergarten. Wandering through the crooked streets of the little fishing village of Scheveningen, from which the famous Dutch watering place takes its name, I hear many shouts of laughter issu ing from a garden inclosed by high, walls. The gate was open and I peeped in. My curiosity was rewarded by one of the sweetest sights I have ever witnessed. About 20 little Dutch maids and lads, there ages varying from three to six years, were enjoy ing a game of ordinary American tag, while a little attendant of about 12 years stood by, busily knitting while she watched them. A hell sounded. They all fell in lino behind the little knitter and walked demurely, two by two, in a serpentine line around the garden and disappeared in a long hall, at the door of which each child took off its little wooden shoes and hold them in one hand behind its hack, says a writer in the Washington Star. In the meantime the principal came out and invited me by signs to enter. In the hall I noticed the little sabots laid orderly, side by side. There were three halls in this kindergarten. In each were 50 children, between the ages of three and six years—the girls in gowns to their ankles, held out in balloon fashion with haircloth petti coats, little white shawls pinned over the shoulders and caps covering their straight yellow locks. At this free kindergarten the chil dren of the fisher folk, many of them fatherless, derive all care and atten tion. They are taught by the same methods used in Germany. All seemed bright and happy. In one room they were singing quaint little nursery rhymes about boats. So one little fellow made me understand by walking across the floor, rolling like a sailor, and then going through tho motions of rowing a boat and pulling in nets. lie, with great glee, made me understand that ite would be a fisher man when lie was "so big," stretching up his arms smoking an imaginary ' * pipe. This amused the child- n r much and made them shout and laugh so loud that the teacher was obliged to send them to their scats aud end our fun. Itelitrioiia Manilla m sin Itilaaln. There are two lype3 of tramps In Russia, and they may be classified as tho authorized and tit" unauthorized. The first are the so-called religious mendicants, who aro protected by the church and tolerated 'by the police; the second are the common vaga bonds. Their national name among themselves is "Goriouns"—mourners or victims of grief. If you ask them why they do not work—and tho great majority are perfectly able to do so— they reply in the l'oriornost voice mor tal over heard, "Master, I am a Gori oun. a victim' of sorrow." They seem to have accepted the philosophy that a certain number of human beings aro foreordained to . life of misery and Badness, and they pose as members of tills clasß. A I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers