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