FRIELAID TRIBUNE. i;STAUI,ISHi;i> 18S8. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, lIY TIIE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, IMcl OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE, LONG DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUItSCKI I'TION HATEI FREELAND.— The TRIBUNE Is delivered by •carriers to subscribers in Froolandattho rate of 1-Hi cents per mouth, payable every two months, or $l5O a year, payable in advance- The TRIBUNE may be ordered direct form tho carriers or from tho offloe. Complaints of irregular or tardv delivery servifco will re ceive prompt attention. BY MAIL —The TRIBUNE is sent to out-of town subscribers for $1.51 a year, payable in advauce; prorata terms for shorter perb-ds. The *latJ when the subscriptioQ expires is on the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must be made at tho expiration, other wise tho subscription will bo discontinued. Entered at tho Postofflce at Freeland. Pa., as Second-Class Matter. Make aV money orders, cheeks, etc. ,payable lo the. Tribune I'rinling Company, Limited. SCRAMBLE FOR DIAMONDS, Gems Thrown Away by an Absent- Minded Dealer, Q "Have you got any of those dia monds?" Is the question of tho hour in Birmingham. Some 800 precious stones have been shared out by lucky prospectors in Vittoria street, and the search still continues, says the London Express. It happened in this wise: In a fit of abstraction John Davis, member of a firm of diamond mer chants, while walking down Vittori* street an a recent morning, pulled an old envelope out of his pocket and commenced to tear it up. When he reached tho last section the terrible* fact dawned upon him that it was the envelope in which were some 1,600 small diamonds, valued at £IOO, and that he had been Bowing these broad cast over a public thoroughfare. Tho news spread with lightning-like rapid ity. Shopkeepers locked up and came to the more lucrative occupation of picking up diamonds, while for a milo around an errand hoy at his ordinary work was a phenomenon. Such a scraping of tho street with knives and sticks had never been seen. As It happened, most of tho lost stones went down the cellar gratings of a jeweler's shop. Ingenious youths fished for them with a piece of soap attached to a stick and reeled In three prizes at a time. Others sat in the gutter sort/ ing an anxiously guarded handful of dirt. Still the crowd grew. At ono period over 1.500 lads were to be seen hard at wortc. From noon to seven o'clock the street was nearly blocked. When night fell candles, lamps and lanterns were brought to aid the inde fatigable hunters for treasure trove, ajid the scene presented could only have been done justice by Hogarth. About half the diamonds have found their way hack to their rightful owner. Some were sold to a shopkeeper and the rest, like the graves of a house hold, are scattered far and wide. Dia mond pins will shortly be fashionable In Birmingham. PRAIRIE DOGS. They Iluve Had Their Day on the Plains of the Far West. Passengers on tho "Q" system who have ridden the better part of a day through western Nebraska and east ern Colorado will remember the prairie 3og. He is numerous in that section of the country. He lives in villages and the villages are as close together as the villages of certain parts of Eur ope, says the Des Moines News. But the prairie clog has had his clay. The agricultural department says ho must go. Mr. Wilson has decided that the dogs kill tho grass and ruin good graz ing land. "Tama Jim" has little of the love of picturesqueness in his make up. He is eminently practical and his philanthropy is of the type which seeks to *wake two blades of grass grow Instead of one. Therefore he proposes to relegate the prairie clog to the pic ture books and to the stuffed specimens of the museum along with the buffalo. Mr. Wilson's chemists have discovered a mixture that will make whole vil lages fight for the first bite, but which at the last biteth like a serpent and etingeth like an adder. Under its in fluence the hole that knows the prairie dog will know it no more forever. The frisky, nervous, harking little beast will join the innumerable caravan ol prairie dogs who have gone before. There will he more grass when the prairie dog is gone, and therefore more cattle. There will he less break ing of the legs of cowboys' ponies and the rattlesnake will live alone in the hole until t'ae summons come to him also. j* Vanished I)renin. Mrs. Bramble—"Don't you remera. ber, Will, bow you used to rhapso dize over tho thought of just you and I living together in a dear little cot tage somewhere, far from the madding* throng? You used to say that would be paradise, but you don't seem sine* we ure married to hold the same opin ion." Mr. Bramble—"No, I gave up th idea tho week you were without o girl. You see, if we lived that waj you would have to do the cooking fo) us light along."—Chicago Times. 1 he I* rench torpedo boat Audncieux, which has gone to l.'Orient for her trials, is the smallest ironclad iri the world She carries an armor belt over her machinery an inch or so in iI.-io.k oo.ss. proof probably against anything amallrr than a six pound projectile. A HAPPY LIFE. How happy is* he born and taught, That serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are, Whose soul is still prepared for death. Not tied into the world with care Or public fame, or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise, Or vice; who never understood How deepest wounds are given by praise; Nor rules of state, but rules of good; mmmmmmmmMmmmmrnrnrnrnm jf Jake Murphy's Revenge| BLACK Jake Murphy was the bigger, hut it did not take longer than five minutes to • m determine who was the bet- I tor .man. Even Mike Hudok, the big Polander, saw it. lie was viewing the fray from an upturned beer keg in front of Yankee Bote's saloon. "Jim lick 'urn, heap quick," he ejac ulated, and his words were prophetic. In less than ten minutes Black Jake was thoroughly and scientifically "licked," and he knew It. lie would I have fallen on his face again as he 1 staggered up after the last knock -1 down blow, if some one had not given | him an arm to lean on. Through the i blood that blinded him he saw the I crowd in a red haze. But his reeling ! sight looked for but one object, and his whole brain and r.oul were filled ; with a fierce and devllsh hatred for I the man who stood near with bruised ' face and bared arms—his conqueror. | Slocuiu's Patch had no sympathy for Black Jake Murpliy. As a rule, the Patch displayed no excessive fns- I tidioushess as to the component parts of its select society. It had even got ; beyond objecting to the Polander and Hungarian. But with Jake Murphy i and his father it refused to associate , on any terms more friendly than those j involved in imbibing Yankee Pete's 1 whisky at their expense. It could not be asserted that either father or son : were at all discomposed by this par tial ostracism. It rather seemed to suit their sullen and morore disposi tions. They did not seek the allure ments of Slocum Patch society, ex cept on the rather rare occasions when together they sat down for a drinking bout at Yankee Pete's. Then all who chose could drink at their expense, and then for the few hours their money lasted none were more popular. Yankee Pete did a laud otlice business, and could well afford the broken | chairs and windows which usually or ! uamented his groggery uext morning. I Black Jake said no word as lie i turned from the fray a beaten man, | and staggered off toward his home. : It was a rough cabin of battened hem lock boards. The two men had built It themselves on a strip of company land up on the hillside above the I Patch. They lived there alone, and from one year's end to another no one j else crossed its threshold. Around it, in summer, the soft breeze murmured ! among the scraggy hemlocks and oaks, i The wild violet and honeysuckle gave • out their fragrance. From its door the great Wyoming Valley stretched away ,as in a panorama. Pitville's many j spires rose not four miles away, and on i n still Sunday morning tho distant I chime of its bells was borne to the ear. Half a mile distant rose the mas | s've timbers that marked the opening ; of the new Woodford shaft, the big j gest and deepest in all that region; i where 11100 feet below the sinkers had I just struck the red ash vein and were finishing tlieir contract The old mau smoking liis pipe on • his doorstep made no comment as his | son washed tho blood from his face at the little spring near the door. At last ! he said: I "Who've yer been liekin' now?" "No one," growled his sou; "curse him, he licked me." The old man gave a grunt "Who was it?" he asked. "Jim Carroll." "Sarve yer right. I told yer to quit foolin' round his gal. Easy nuft ter . see she thought more o' liis little finger j than o' yer whole carcass." I "God strike me dead if I don't have I his life." j It was a bitter threat that Black •Take made, and the deadly hate that ! filled his heart made it no idle one. I It was midnight, but down In the j shaft midnight and midday were the I same. Looking up, a Mint speck of I white could be seen in the day time, | but no trace of light penetrated that lawful depth. Three men stood there, J waiting for their turn to go up. The rmoky lamps stuck In their olNkin | caps threw a dull and flickering light I over their faces and figures, wrapped i lo the chin in waterproofs. They stood ! In water almost to the knee, and the j fcaseless splnsli and palter of the fall- I nig drops told where it came from. Thirty feet above them, on a plat- I form protected by heavy timbers, a /owerful pump made the confined air | Jbrob with t) • heavy plunk plunk of i Is stroke. The pump runner sat. there 1 motionless, smoking. It was old Mur | phy, Black Jake's father. Jake him j self stood below, and one of the two with him was Jim Carroll. There was a fierce and evil look In I Black Jake's eyes as they stood silent ! ly waiting for the bucket to descend. | That look had never left him since the day Jim Carroll had "licked" him for I being too attentive to his sweetheart | Black Jake was not tho man to for give or forget, and the bitterness of j defeat was mad? still more bitter by i disappointed love. lie was a rough Who hath his life from rumors freed, Whose conscience is his strong retreat; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make oppressors great; Who GocLdoth late and early pray, More of His grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day "With a well-chosen book or friend; This man is freed from servile hands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands; And having nothing, yet hath all. —Sir Henry Wotton. ' and sullen man, but years ago he had set Ids heart upon that girl, before Jim Carroll ever knew her. But she was young and he not over-confident, lie had waited too long, for Jim Car roll stopped in, and now they were married. Black Jake set hir. teeth and breathed hard when he heard it. He said nothing, but his old father watch ing him knew that Carroll's life was in danger. Considered from an ab stract point of view, the old man had no particular objection to li's son put ting Carroll out of the way, but some strange and deep-hidden bond held these two men together. Had such a possibility ever arisen, old Murphy would readily have laid down his own life to save that of his son. He watched him then lest he should do that which might necessitate his de parture from this world at the hands of the sheriff. His wntclilr;g brought him great uneasiness. Black Jake had changed. lie did not seek an oppor tunity to revenge his defeat, in open fight. Itatlier he avoided Carroll, and when they were together, cud, work ing in the same shaft they could not keep apart, he was quiet, and fair spoken. This was not Black Jake's nature and the old man feared for what was to come. Sitting at liis post, looking down at Hie three men below him, old Murphy, in the flickering light of tho miners' lamps, caught a glimpse of his son's face and a terror fell on him. Some thing told him in those set and sullen features and eyes that seemed to burn with inward lire that the time had come. With a rattle and rush the heavy iron bucket plunged down through the darkness and touched the water ere it stopped, slowly turn'ng with the twist of the rope that, like a thin lino of black, disappeared in the blackness above. Jake Murphy gripped it and sprang inside. Only two men could go up in "Come Jim," lie cried, "got In," and looked at Carroll. Old Murphy's tongue was loosened. "Hold on, Jim," he called out. "I want yer to help me fix this valve afore yer go up." Jim turned irresolute. In that mo ment the other man jumped in the bucket. "All right!" he cried, "Let her go!" Carroll saw that the bucket was filled. He must wait, and grasping the lever he gave the signal t<> the engin eer on top. Then* was a moment's pause ,nnd then, with a strong unci sudden rush, the bucket and its occu pants vanished in the darkness. On top it was a calm, still summer night. Above the heads of the two men as they stepped out of the swing ing bucket lose the framework of mas sive timbers that supported the huge sheave wheels. Twenty yards away stood the engine-house, the steam still curling from the exhaust pipes. As tliey left the bucket Black Jake bid his companion a surly "good night'* and started off as though for home. But once out of sight lie turned and swiftly and silently crept back, lie passed the mouth of the shaft, and disap peared iu the shadow of the engine house. "Within the engine house Tom Allis, the engineer, stood at his post. Be fore him was the huge conical drum sixteen feet in diameter, round which the snake-like cable was colled in grooves. On each side of him wort those mighty engines whose gigantic power could, when the time came, snatch the carriage and loaded car up those twelve hundred feet of depth in fifty seconds. With one haul on the throttle he waitud for the signal to lower. It came. The bell clunked, the throttle shot open, the steam rushed into the great cylinders, and down dropped the bucket like a stone dropped down a well. With steady eye Allis marked the cable as it reeled swiftly off the drum. He never no lired the slowly-revolving dial that told of the bucket's descent. For his practiced eye a bar of white paint daubed on the cable was a better guide. In another instant that white mark was off the drum, when the throttle was closed, the reversing bar shot back with n crash, again the steam rushed into the cylinders, and the engine, with a few short pants, stopped. The bucket swung at the same depth within half an inch that it had when Jack Blake climbed on the board. It was Tom Ailis's boast that If he knew a man's exact height he could drop that bucket ou his head without doing more than smooth out his hair. lie knew there was one more man to come up. The pump runner's shift would not expire for four hours yet, and nil the sinkers hut one were up. With his hand on the throttle lover he waited for the signal to liolst. A minute passed and two, but he stood like a graven statue. Clank! chink! clank! The bell struck three times. It was the signal to hoist with core, as human weight filled the bucket. Slowly he drew the throt tle open, and the gigantic engines, waking from their brief rest, once more sent the drum flying round. Coil after coil of writhing cable was wound about it. One hand on the throttle and the other on the reversing lever, Tom Allis wntclicd the spinning drum and the white marks on it that told him when to stop. As he stood there he felt the reversing lever shako and tremble, as if some one had touched it. He had nc/time to think of this, for in another second the bucket was within one hundred feet of the surface. He clbsed the throttle and pushed tin; reversing lever. A wild cry burst from his lips. AA he pushed it, the bar shot back with a rattling crash, but the reversing gear never moved. The engines would not reverse. In that awful moment his presence of mind never left him. He seized the brake bnr and threw all his weight upon It. The band of steel that circled the drum gripped tight. But what could that do to stop the mas sive engines running at high speed? He jammed it back and rushed from the engine house. As he did so, the bucket shot up from the shaft. Two men were in it. A cry burst from them as the bucket, without pause or stop, leaped up amid the heavy timbers and sped swiftly on toward the great sheave wheels. Another wild cry, and then an awful crash as the bucket dashed against the wheels. A human form whirled in the air, struck against the timbers, and plunged out of sight down the yawning blackness of the shaft. An other form was clinging to the timbers far aloft. "Wlia Is that?" called the engineer. "Jim Carroll," answered the man clinging to the timbers. "Who was it that fell down the shaft?" "Old Murphy." Another awful cry broke the stillness of the night. Down from the shadow of the engine house Black Jake Mur phy came running. "Who?" he cried, and no words can tell the fearful agony In his voice, "Who went down the shaft?" "Your father, Jake," said the en gineer. With one bound Jake was at the shaft's mouth. "Father," he cried, "father!" But the black pit gave no answer to his frantic call. With a wild cry he turned. Throwing ids hands aloft he shook his clinched list at Carroll, still clinging to the timbers, and with a fearful imprecation on his lips fell backward into the awful depth. *..* The investigation that followed showed that a connecting pin in the reversing gear had fallen out or been removed. It was beneath the floor on which the engineer stood, and any one could reach it unseen. It was also shown by Jim Carroll's testimony that old Murphy, the pump runner, who should not have left his post un til relieved, had insisted on coming up to the surface with him.—Waverley Magazine. Observations. Learning is a handy thing, but nev er yet was woman loved solely because she was erudite. A shallow lover Ignores all save one woman. The wise one, never! He might need a friend at Court some day. Punctuality is one of the pillars of llie temple of success. Good luck is cousin-Gorman to pluck, and twin to endeavor. There never was a man who con quered adversity without becoming a stronger and better fellow. You may despise yourself, but never say so, unless you wish to have oth ers follow suit. Debutantes, dollars, dinners and dancing begin the social tournament. Mamma's Mammon, The Man, and Marriage ends it. A bad reputation is a misfortune, no reputation is calamity. The being who has never done a foolish thing, has never done many wise ones.—Philadelphia liecord. FIRS Can He Grown In the North. A correspondent inquires how far north the tig will mature in the open air. There seems no reason why the fruit will not mature to an indefinite distance northwardly. It is rather a question of the protection of the trees from injury in the winter, than of rip ening the frjit. The wood is usually killed to the ground north of the Poto mac, but the branches are easily pro looted by bending down and covering with earth, as is often done with rasp berries, roses and other things. It is very easily done. In the vicinity of Philadelphia trees bear profusely this way, and are among the most satis factory of fruits in an amateur's gar den. They bear several crops a year and can generally he had from the trees at any time during the season.— Meeluin's Monthly. Problems of the ARCH. The lecturer on occult science clasped her hands and leaned forward on the stand in front of her. "I have endeavored." she said, "to make tills subject as plain as its Inher ently mysterious nature will permit Before I take my seat, however, 1 will wait a moment to answer any ques tions you may like to ask tor the pur pose of clearing up whatever points may still seem obscure to you." "I wish you could tell me, ma'am," asked a hollow-voiced, cadaverous man, rising up in a distant corner of the hall, "why women kiss each oth er."—Chicago Tribune. Quail Raisins For Fanners. A Missouri farmer has gone into the business of raising quail. Me says tlie birds are more easily handled tho.7 chickens und far tune profltabie. 1 TALES OF PLUCK I AND ADVENTURE, I j ] YBV<yyiXSXs)®<?^ A White Chief of Cannibals. \ TST STAMPS CHERRY, who \/\ / left his hom* in Chicago Y \ .in the summer of lSOii, now Is ou his way to his home in America, having experienced in the heart of Africa adventures more thrilling, in many respects, than those I of Livingstone or Stanley. | For four years Mr. Cherry has been I living among the Congo natives. He has been their companion, friend, lead er and instructor. Unaccompanied bj any men of hit own color be lias pene trated to pints where no other white man has ever dared to go. Starting in Matadi on the west coasi of Africa, in August, 1800, Mr. Cherry went up the Congo River as far as Stanley Pool by caravan. In Brass ville, in the h'rench Congo, lie was lie'd up by the authorities for having fire arms without permission. His weap ons and cartridges, which practically constituted Ills outfit, were confiscated by the French Government officials. Bereft of motive and occupation lit j went into the service of the French Government. J Leaving the service of tlio French Government, after having bis arms re ' stored to him, Mr. Cherry went from | Bangui with natives in a canoe to the mouth of tlie M'bomu Itiver, past rap ids, over them, and more often than not into them, until he came to the j territory of Bangasson, one of tin greatest of the N'snccraw chiefs in the whole Congo basin. The day of M\ Cherry's arrival Bangasson had been indulging in a raid upon a neighboring tribe, with the result that no fewer than 3000 men, women and children | had been captured and brought to Ban j gasson as slaves. In addition to these [ slaves Bangasson's warriors brought back with them hundreds of human heads, trophies of their prowess. The heads of the slain were boiled, and the brains were eaten. Afterward tin; skulls were piled in heaps, stuck 011 tree brandies and otherwise put in places where they could lie seen and adored, for, Mr. Cherry says, no fetish Is more in favor among the natives limn the human skull. Bangasson, by tlie way, lias 1800 wives and is n stanch ally of the French Government. After a period of good hunting Mr. Cherry crossed the country to the re gion of tlio Darbauda. There he lived with the natives as a native, sleeping on a mat with two blankets, and be ing received among them as the great white chief, "Demba Creecy," whose fame had gone before him. Dressed in monkey skins, speaking the tongue of tlio people with whom he lived, this young American taught them the ele ments of astronomy, geography and told them of the great white nations who lived without their sphere. 111 return they taught him the secret arts whereby they make and mold curious ly engraved spears, hatchets and other implements, to say nothing of the cloth Weaving and domestic arts. Darbandn served as the base for the explorer's expeditions. Thence he made constant trips up the Kotto Riv er. Three times lie lost almost every thing he had through cauoes capsiz ing in the rapids. During these times Mr. Cherry was in almost every respect chief of tl-.e tribe witli whom he stayed. Other tribes sent for him to assist them to settle weighty matters, to adjust dis putes, to organize their forces against the invasion of an unfriendly tribe. Among those natives with whom Mr. Cherry has been living cannibalism is rampant. "After a tribal engagement," he tells the Associated Press, "tlio cap tured men, women and children are cut up as quick as that," snapping his fingers, "and every hit of them is eat en. Human flesh, to these people? is a delicacy. They want It, and when they get the opportunity to get it they can not resist." Regarding the rivers he explored, Mr. Cherry said: "They drain the finest country in the world, where everything can lit raised. Rice, coffee, vanilla and rub ber grow in wild luxuriance. In nc place in the world could you find such elephants. It's just like hunting rab bits. "Among the characteristics of tin pew tribes their funeral rites are, per haps, the most curious. Instead of weeping or dancing after a death, the mourners proceed to turn somersaults and keep it up until their strength is. exhausted." The Nerve of a Hunter. The recent death of ,T. H. Benham. of California, Illustrates the wonder ful nerve of strong men under tli most adverse conditions, Benliam and three companions had gone into the mountains for a few days' hunting. They had climbed mountains and crossed canyons .tad finally made their camp on Eel River. On Mondav after noon, wliil. high up a mountain, Ben ham's hounds started a tine buck. The hunter braced himself against a hush and was about to fire at tlie deer when the bush gave way and allowed him to slide down the incline about 120 yards. In falling Benham's rifle was discharged, the hall passing Into his abdomen and coming out at his right shoulder. Wounded though lie was he managed to crawl back up the incline, where he shouted for help. No one heard liis cries, and he then discharged ids rifle till the magazine wns empty. One of his companions came to ills assistance. Tlie wounded man requested liis friend to send for his wife, realizing all the time that his wound was fatal. The friend went * back to camp and secured tluee mules, S with which lie returned to the scene S of tlie tragedy. a Without help of any sort Benham § rode one of the mules back to camp, i) a distance of half a mile. Another of § the party then started for the nearest : town for medical help and to telephone |j for Mrs. Benliam. The messenger trav eled in an hour and twenty minutes a trail which it had taken the hunters 0 seven hours to travel when they were " on their way to their camp. A pliysl '• cian aud Sirs. Beuham reached tlio "j camp at 3 o'clock iu the morning, but nothing could be done for the dying e man. At 10 o'clock flat morning the 10 party started for home, eighteen miles away. Tlie wounded man was car n ried on a litter the entire distance, the e members of the party taking turns at 1- carrying It. i' Thev arrived at home at 10 o'clock at night,- tlie wounded man retaining e consciousness throughout tlie long journey. 1-Ie knew that his death was h a question of only a few hours, hut he y never lost his courage. He died at s 5 o'clock next morning.—Chicago Chronicle, d Bravo Laden Young. y Nearly thirty years ago a stalwart j young fellow reported at the United , States Military Academy with an ap |(, poiutment as a cadet in his pocket. h Tlie applicant came within an ace of failing to pass his mental examination. 1, Physically he was a young Samson. , The examiners came pretty near ~ throwing him out on general principles „ after they had discovered that he liked s ' lo rt cuts in spelling, aud, believing n the "E" to he useless, invariably ( , I spelled Europe, "Urope." He was nc , I cepted finally, however, proved to lie !ls smart as a whiplash and gave his . classmates work to keep up witli him. I( | Almost immediately after graduation ~ j the cadet, whose name was Lucien ... Young, distinguished himself by jump a ing from the ship's rail into tlie Med i- iterraneau and rescuing a sailor who had fallen into tlie waiter from one of t ' yards and had been stunned by n tlie fall. It was not long after this ~ "lit Young was assigned to tlie new ( , irou steamship Huron. Tlie vessel , was bound south one night In Xovera n her, 1877, and when off Nag's head 011 , tl,e coast of North Carolina, struck 11 '' lo rocks, and iu less than an hour the , ! disaster was complete. There was a s j tremendous sea running. There ap , j peared to lie hut one chance to save (] I any of the crew. The boats were use less in that pounding, grinding sen. A volunteer was asked for to attempt to . carry a life line to the shore. Young ! volunteered to make tlie attempt, „ though lie was told by his captain that the chance of life was not one in a t thousand. A seaman named Williams e volunteered to accompany tlie young :1 officer. The two took what is known £ as a lialso, nttaclied li ropo, and, unfit s ing tlielr way out upon a spar, dropped . into tlie Icy water. A wave heat tliem 1 hack against tlie spar, and Young was ■ B j severely bruised by tlio contact. lie , stuck (o his task, however, and with s Williams succeeded in escaping death . I among the storm-beaten rocks and !• ~ I gaining a foothold upon the sands be -1 | yond. The result of their heroism was 1 the snving of a portion of the Huron's crow, though the vessel went to pieces , so quickly that tlie rescue of all was . impossible.—Chicago Times-Herald. Wrestled With a Mountain Lion. Three Touto Basin cowboys proved themselves victors in a wrestling eon ' test with tlie largest mountain lion ever killed in tlie vicinity of Globe, 1 Arizona. The men, George Hubbard, t Ilardy Sehell and A. (I. Harer, were riding the range near Salome Creek, Sehell had the only firearm in the party, a rifle, and had only one eart j ride for it. The cowboys routed the lion out of some rocks and rode after it, to rope it if possible. Sehell tried a ' 200 yard shot and knocked the lion ' over, apparently dead, with a bullet through its neck. The three rode up ' and dismounted, to find the lion had only been stunned by the shot. As they approached he came to his feet and jumped at Sehell, who knocked ■ him aside with a blow from the butt of tlie rifle. The enormous cat then 1 jumped upon Hubbard, crunching the man's left arm and lacerating his body ; witli its claws. But Hubbard, who is possessed of exceptional strength, ' caught the beast by tlie throat and a front foot. Sehell at tlie same time seized the hind feet, while Harer ran in anil cut the lion's throat with a small knife. Though the lion undoubt edly had been weakened by the bullet j wound, the men considered themselves fortunate to have escaped with their lives. The lion skin measures nine feet ten inches from tip to tip. Johnny's Good right Wlttl n Wolf. John Word, arolored hoy, aged fif teen, slew a wolf which was in the net of killing a pet poodle, the proper ty of tlie hoy's mother. The Words are tenants on land lie low Waco, Texas, close to the river. Jane Word, the mother, was washing clothes nt a spring and tlio poodle was asleep ten feet from the woman under a bush, when the big lobo appeared suddenly and seized the little dog. The colored woman attacked the wolf, but wns driven back by tlie savage lirute. John heard the cries of his mother and seizing a hatchet ran to the scene of tlie trouble. A struggle followed, during which the boy was bitten aud the wolf slain, the hatchet iu the hands of the boy proving too much for the fangs of the wolf. John Word was paid $3 for tlie wolf skin by the owner of the land as an acknowledgment of the services he rendered in ridding tlie place of a pest. When tlie fight was over it was found that the poodle had been fntnlly bitteu r by tk-8 wolf.—Dallas Morning Post
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers