FRFELfiND TRIBUNE.! ESTABLISHED BSB. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, ! 11Y THE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, LimiteU OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. ' Lowe; DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUBSCRIPTION RATES FREELAND.— riicTnißUNßlsdelhreredby | curriers to subscribers In Froolandatthe rate ( of l-M cents per month, payable every two i months, or slooa year, payable in advance : The TRIBUNE may bo ordered direct form th carriers or from the office. Complaints of j Irretful&r or tardv delivery service will re- j ceive prompt attention. BY MAIL - The TBIBUKB is sent to out-of* town subscribers for sl.s:a year, payable in advance; pro rata terms for shorter periods. The ilato when tho suhpeription expires is on theVldress lalicl of each paper. Prompt re newals must he made at the expiration, other wise the subscription will be discontinued. Entered at the I'ostoffice at Freeland. Pa., as becond-Class Matter, Make all money orders, ohecks. etc. t pnybli . to the Tribune Tr.n'ing Company, Limited. It is reported that relic hunters an ' buying up native spears and Polos ai ! such a rate in the island of Miudauac i that tlie entire section will soon he ex hausted. Is this another proof that - trade makes for peace? = I The authorities at Harvard are talk- j lug of cutting off the veter'nary school from the university. They show ( commendable foresight. In a few years , a veterinary school will seem a less I essential appendage to a university , than a school for teaching the art of i repairing automobile tires. Harvard ! cannot afford to bother with the few I race horses that will represent all the , I use the twentieth century will have for the equine tribe, thinks the New York Journal. A Dawson correspondent of the To ronto Globe notes that for ten consecu tive days in January last'the average minimum temperature in that far-off corner of British North America was sixty degrees below zero. The very at mosphere seemed solidilied by file in tense cold, and liquids.exposed in bot tles to the outer air froze hard as tnough they were water. When it is considered that in the 'Alaska gold mining districts there are from -10,000 to 50,000 persons from more southerly climes who annually endure this fear ful cold without murmuring or seri ous discomfort, the mastery of man over the elements is brought clearly in evidence. g 1 It is altogether probable tliat the number of tramps in the country has been overestimated. The tramp is a perambulating person whose business it is to go about, and who for that rea son gets himself frequently counted, and thus appears to bo more numerous than he actually is. There is no doubt, however, that in all parts of the coun try there are more tramps than there should bo. In Massachusetts, where the subject of vagrancy lias been a matter of State investigation, there were 207,051 cases in 1899. The tax laid upon private charity, of course, cannot be ascertained but tho draft iqion the public purse was .$33,080. In towns where tramps were made to work in payment for help afforded them tho burden of support was very light. There is nothing so abhorrent to the soul of a confirmed vagrant as labor. 110 seems to loathe the bread he is made to earn. Ancient Record. In Cliinm, in the Temple of Confucius at Pekin are a number of stone tablets covered with inscriptions, which were discov ered by the Chinese in the eighth cen tury before Christ, and which, undoubtedly, belong to a much earlier period, which have been carefully pre served since the time when they were found. It is believed that the destruo tion of the magnificent library of the Han-Lin College, or national acad emy, which stood just north of the British legation in Pekin, and which was destroyed by fire by the Boxers during the recent siege, has been a loss to the world comparable only to the burning of the Alexandrian library. A BympatliY A veteran lawyer tells this story of a young man who was on trial for murder in the first degree. Ho was charged with killing his father and mother, and the proof was conclusive against him. The jury returned with v verdict of guilty. The prisoner was .ulled before the court to ha sentenc ed, and as is the custom, tho judge asked: "If you have any reason why sen tence should not be passed upon you, you may give it now." "I haven't any, judge," said tho pris oner, "excepting that I think you ought to have pity on a poor orphan." There is n blacksmith in Gardiner, Me., who has not lost a day's work from sickness since lie began his ap prenticeship, nearly a third of a cen tury ago. THt BLEST. Who are tho blest? Tbe.v who have kept their sympathies awake. Ana si-uttered joy for more than cus tom's sake— Steadfast and tender in the hour of need. Gentle in thought, benevolent in deed, Whose looks have power to make dissen sion cense, Whose smiles are pleasant, and whose words are peace. 5 THE CLOCK J J AND A HERO # > 5 By Charles Donald Mackay. J Tom Dean was ticket agent and tele graph operator for the Union Pacific at Wellsville, a settlement of not more than a few dozen scattered houses, the most pretentious of which was the "Ho tel and Lunch Room." About a hundred yards down the track from this popu lar resort at "train time," stood a low, one-roomed building, the station- Tom's St Helena, To an energetic, ambitious young man, socially inclined, Wellsville was well nigh intolerable; but Tom had hopes and made the best of it. He had removed his belongings from the hotel to Mrs. Jordan's cosy little cottage, where he made himself at homo. Ho found Miss Jordan a charming com panion and "years ahead of the ville in every way." Nevertheless, the un eventful days would drag, and the nights— well, after the 5.50 "accom modation" pulled out until 11.10, when the west bound "express" dashed past, one might as well have been stationed in the middle of the Great Sahara —at least, so Tom said many times. One raw, gusty December night just before the holidays, Tom with much pleasure piled the three cases billed through to Omaha on the truck and ran them down the track, ready to be hauled aboard the baggage car of the coming train. He was not over fond of work, hut this meant the stopping of the express, the latest newspapers, and good reading for several days. To signal the express was an event. Taking a last look at the lights, he entered the station and slammed the door alter him, as if to bar out the loneliness of the dripping outside world. The last light in the hotel had gone out long before, the wind howled in the wires, the red light blinked and flickered. "Well, of all the forsaken—" The door opened suddenly, and two men stepped into the room, followed by a third. "Hands up—quick!" the foremost cried. In less than two minutes Tom was bound, gagged, and lying helpless be hind the partition in the baggage end of the room. "He's safe. Where's Jim?" asked the man who had spoken before. "Down to th' sidin'," came the an swer. "Set the white light." The door closed quickly after them. Out of Tom's bewilderment and con fusion came the question, what did it mean? Robbery? There was nothing worth the risk at the station, and the men had gone. "Set the white light." That meant the express would not stop. "Down to th' sidin'." The blind sid ing, an eighth of a mile beyond the station by the sand hill! It ended in the gravel bank. The terrible truth flashed across his mind. He turned cold —great heads of moisture stood out upon his forehead; "26," with its living freight, was to be switched on to the siding at full speed! As the horror of it rushed upon him, Tom strained at tho cords that bound him hand and foot with a strength ,he never dreamed he possessed. It was useless—the work -had been done well. 110 looked quickly at the clock —10.41— in 29 minutes more the train would be due. As he turned the knots of the gag pressed into the back of his head. Bearing heavily upon them, unmindful of the pain, he moved his head, forc ing his chin downward. They gave— they moved! Again he tried, and again until at last the handkerchief slipped Ito his neck. "Help! Help! Townsend! Bill! :Help!" he cried. But his voice was : lost in the mocking howl of the wind I and he realized that the effort was strength wasted and time lost. Again he looked at the clock—only 26 minutes remained. How fast the seconds flew! 25 — The sharp click, click, click from tho other side of the partition caught his ear—a telegraphic message. " '26' 20 minutes late." "Thank God, a delay!" Forty-four minutes now—a gain of 20. The train, due at 11.10, would not arrive until 11.30. Townsend relieved him at 12. "Too late! Too late!" rushed through his mind as he glared at the clock. Then the light of hope fairly blazed in his eyes. The summer before, when he had long, weary night watches, twice he overslept because his alarm had failed him, so, to insure his "call," he had run a wire from the station clock to a bell in his room at the hotel. Bj an ingenious connection, when the hands marked 11.45 the ringing of the bell brought him violently out of the land of dreams. When Tom was pro moted to the shorter watch, and went to live at Mrs. Jordan's, Bill Town send, who succeeded him, fell heir to his room and "the devil's own," as Tom called the bell. The clock was an imitation of the old-fashioned, big faccd, caseless timepieces, with weights and chaiim, and a long, heavy pendu lum. "Twenty minutes late," he muttered. Tho hour hand was less than two Inches from tho connection, but how slowly It crept! If he could only move that hand! His knees were free. Ha drew them up toward his chin, shot out his legs and came to a sitting po sition; then, by a series of short jumps and humps, he reached the wall, braced his back against it, and with great difficulty worked himself to his feet. The pendulum swung close to his ear, hut how could he reach the hand? Was he to fail now? His eyes quickly searched the room. A few feet to the right was the win dow, heavily barred, the torn shade partly down. His glance rested on the stick that weighted the latter—just what he needed. New hope gave him now strength. Inch by inch he edged himself along the wall to the shade, caught the stick between his teeth and sank quickly to the floor. He had suc ceeded—the stick was torn loose from its flimsy fastenings. Back again, up and along the wall he worked, until he stood nearly under the clock. He turned sidewise, raised his head until (he stick pointed at tho hand, made a terrific effort to reach it, failed, lost his balance and fell heavily to the tioor. The bodily pain was nothing to him, but he groaned in anguish at the loss of time. He looked up—the clock had stopped! The hands marked 11. He could reach the pendulum. It must be start ed. There was still a chance of more delay. Again the struggle to regain his feet, harder now because of his grow ing weakness. Nearer and nearer he crept to the motionless rod—a nod of his head would start it — "My God," he suddenly cried, "why didn't I think of it before? Is there still time?" and seizing the heavy brass disk at tho end of the pendulum in his teeth, he raised his head and detached it. The rod, freed of its heavy weight, swung rapidly back and forward, im pelling the hands onward at a greatly increased rate of speed. His eyes were following the minute hand. He could see it move; and the hour hand? Yes, it was creeping along. Tom's strength was going fast; he sank to his knees and rolled over on the floor, hut his eyes were fixed on that hand. How long would it take to reach 11.45? Clos er and closer it crept—now it touched the iron connection and moved slowly past it. The alarm had been sounded, but til "re were IB minutes moro be fore Bill would arrive. He strained his ears to catch tne slightest sound— the noise of the storm was all that he could hear. Click, click, click came from the in strument—a message from Maysville. "26" had just passed. Maysville was 12 minutes up the road—it must now he 11.18, Tom tried to calculate the time since the hands started on their wild race, but his mind was a chaos of mad thoughts. What if Bill did not arrive in season? He rolled over on his face and waited for the worst. Tho door burst open. "Hello, where are you?" It was Bill's voice. "Stop '26' —hold-up at Dyke's siding —get men—" But Bill was gone. The red light flashed up the track, and "26" with a noisy grinding of wheels and many jolts, came to a stop. A posse was hastily formed, but when the siding was reached nothing was found but the open switch that meant death and destruction. The passengers and crew tried to make Tom believe that he was a hero, but he only pointed to the clock and said: "ft was the 'devil's own.'" I'ei'iinn Imiipiitntloii. The Persian's imagination is one of his strongest characteristics, and it has found full l>!ay In his religion. When he split with his Turkish brother over who should he successor to Mohammed, he did it with the fa natical enthusiasm with which he does everything—except tell the truth. The offspring of Fatima were henceforth the sacred embodiments to him, and when the Turks and Arabs with almost equal fervor disposed of the imams by various methods of murder held to be polite in those days, the schism was complete. The gulf between Shiltei and Sunnite was fixed for ail time. It has never narrowed. To this day, in periods of stress between the sects, the Persian accounts it a greater vir tue to have killed one Sunni than a whole company of Christians, and his conduct at all times, whether in war or business, shows at what value he holds the Christian. The cultivation of this religious ten sion, century after century, has wrought upon the Persian tempera ment like <>. corrosive acid. To the original formulae he has tacked on horrors and deprivation, hunger and laceration, enough to make an ordi nary savage turn pale. I have seen gentlemen of Indian tribes, shaken by spiritual grief, cry like infants over tho atonement service at the burning of the White Dog, and listened to some touching ululations at ceremon ials in the uplands of Mexico. Even the colored camp-meeting has its tear ful side; but the Persians' doings in memory of what happened to the imams make these seem like children's troubles. —Harper's Weekly. A Monmnpnt to Dead HorsPß. As Morioka. Rikuebu, Is the centre of tho horse-breeding country, the people there are going to erect a mon ument called the "horse-soul monu ment"—of course tho promoters are convinced, like the pious Buddhists they are, that the soul of this animal is immortal —in memory of the horses which wore killed in the 1894-1895 i war. Mr. Oglwara, expert of the war ; office, is making a design for the monument. —Tokyo (Japan) Times. Originnl Ylloomer Advocate. Mrs. Mary E. Lewis, the last of the original "bloomer" advocates, who never abandoned the costume until her death, has just died in Indiana. Mrs. Lewis was one of the staff of "The Lily," tho first woman suffrage organ in this cci ntry, of which Mrs. Bloomer was editor. l>re*HO* on Nothing it Year. There is said to be an American woman in Paris who dresses superbly on nothing a year, because she has a fine figure and is a good advertise ment for the fashionable dressmaker, who clothes her. His creations are so enhanced by the wearer's charms, that she is besieged by inquiries for the name of her couturier, who thus has secured a greatly increased clientele in the fashionable circle. Kng!iHh Women's Ornaments. Gun metal links, set at intervals with threaded crystals, have taken the place of "barbaric" muff chains, which are laid aside during the prescribed period of English mourning. Jet combs in tho hair are taking the place of tortoise shell. Black silk bows for the hair, worn high in front, are the only ornaments suitable for the coiff ure. Satin and tulle are being used In stead of velvet neckbands, velvet not being a strictly mourning fabric. A narrow band is worn tightly clasping the throat and upon it in front are fixed pendant ornaments of pearls or diamonds. Pearls are accounted mourning gems. Silver will be used later, but gold will not be employed for many moons. (•own of Gray Cloth. A very striking frock is of a fine gray cloth with a rough surface. The skirt is cut severely tight to tho knees, after which a shaped flounce shows insertions of black chantilly lace edged j with chenille. Two of these inser- ' tions run up each side of the skirt. A ' tucked gray chiffon blouse, piped with the chenille, is worn under a bolero entirely composed of appliqued lace, with a trelliswork of chonille and 1 mousseline do soie—a most effective combination and an extremely becom ing one. The sleeves of this bolero come just below the elbow, and unJfer these are seen the gray chiffon and black lace ones belonging to the blouse. A wide, pointed, swathed band of black panne completes this very fascinating costume. Another pretty blouse to be worn with this gown is made entirely of ecru lace over white chiffon and shows long, tight sleeves reaching right over the hands. Tiny, fancy Parisian buttons decorate the front of this blouse, hold ing together some little straps of turquoise velvet, the blouse pouching well over the waistband in front, as fashion decrees our bodices shall still do. New Witftli Fabric*. The display of early wash goods is exceedingly interesting in the matters of coloring, design, and in fabric or weave. The tendency at present is toward sheer rather than thick ma terials, but very thin organdie i 3 de cidedly less popular than it was a year ago. Batiste also has lost somewhat of its favor. Swiss In numberless va rieties, dimity, and thin mercerized muslins have superseded all other weaves in the lighter-weight summer goods, while ginghams, in linen, cotton, and Madras, cotton covert cloth, and plain and fancy linens are the fa vorites in heavier materials. Tho new Swiss and dimity designs all show a striving after the realistic In the choice of floral decoration, very large designs being chosen, and colored as nearly as possible like the original blossom. On the other hand, embroidered figures on Swiss are often of the same color and shade as the material itself. The especial characterises of the wash goods now showing are the in troduction of the satin stripe or dot, the general adoption of a colored ground with white pattern over it, and the universal employment of mercer ized effects. Tho latter treatment is applied to cotton, linen, silk, and silk and linen weaves of every variety, and to thick and thin materials. Mer cerized cottons, somewhat sheer, are being combined with Valenciennes lace, while the cotton cloths of a firm er variety are embroidered or com bined with the machine embroideries. —Harper's Bazar. Tlie High Chignon. There are divided opinions unon the new method, which is, of course, only a revival of dressing tho hair low in the nape of the neck. Women whose faces have lost the fresh bloom of earliest youth are ill-advised to adopt It without a very earnest consideration of their profile in the looking-glass, when, should they be critical, they will probably decide that the chignon is trying and not nearly so "smart" as the coiffure built high. There is a droop about the effect that is quite dowdy unless a special concentration is made upor the tresses on the brow and the crown of the head, tending to raise them, and provide the height and dignity that most countenances re quire. But undoubtedly the fresh of face and soft and round of counte nance need not hesitate, and should their hair be short, what prettier, newer method is there of dressing it than en queue? For the longhaired there are coils; for the short all that is needful is that the hair be turned under and secured either with a rib bon band or with a jewelled comb. Many women will always cling to the high coiffure, and just now it is so becoming with the hair slightly puffed and less waved, arranged from the centre with a twist forming a curl falling carelessly on the forehead. The hair looped up to the crown of the head, having two or three twists interlaced with tulle, finishing in a fanlike bow toward one side, is very attractive and becoming to most faces. A wreath of small roses arranged around the crown and interlaced with coils of the hair is another effective evening coiffure.—New York Commer cial Advertiser. If You Wish to l ook Young. The face is. without doubt, an index to the heart, therefore if you wish to look always young and charming, be as happy as you can. Dress as well as your means will allow, dress be comingly and dress modestly; give every attention to your underclothing. Always wear nice petticoats, so that when you raise your skirts your ap pearance may be dainty. Wear good fitting corsets; they should be re moved as often as necessary. Never wear soiled corsets and It seldom, if ever, pays to clean them; better pur chase another pair, or, better still, have three pairs constantly on hand, to be worn on alternate days, and a| of them will be found to wear better, to keep clean longer, and to be mors healthful. Never lace a corset tog tightly, as this will push the flesh where It should not be and cause the wearei's hands, face or nose to be come red and swollen. For a slight woman, corsets of medium length In front with short hips and low in the bust should be worn; for a plump wo man a corset nearly the same length all the way round is preferable. Let the corset, whether worn by a stout woman or a slight one, nearly meet at the waist, but open wider at the top and bottom edge; this will keep the figure in trim. A stout woman should clasp her corsets from the top downward, whereas a slender woman should fasten her corset from the lower edge upwards. Wear your hair neatly and becoming ly dressed; if you have very little hair you should, in justice to your self, wear artificial. If the front hair is Very thin an artificial fringe may be necessary, but select one that is not heavy or it will not look natural; if the back hair needs to be added to, select a switch that matches your own in color and in texture, and do not have it too heavy or too long. It is the duty of every woman to make herself as attractive as possi ble. and every one should look her best at all times, not alone from a motive of self-respect, but because her friends like to think of her as pretty or dainty. As one advances in years, to have pretty and fashionable clothes it is not necessary to dress like a young girl; the one great thing in dress is to have it well made and well hung and becoming. American Queen. Embroidered Swisses are marvels of beauty. Arabian lace collars are gems for linen suits. Fresh roses last well in the hair a whole evening. Velour crystal Is appearing in many pieces of new neckwear. Tucked skirts, made straight, are nearly certain to be clumsy. With a violet silk waist, a set of amethyst buttons is a treasure. A stunning cloth dress has a blouse and flounce of panne applique. White and yellow, with a touch of biaclc, is almost sure to be lovely. Materials are in every case cut away from under laco insertions. In the s'pring a woman's thoughts lightly turn to thoughts of such colors as gray and violet. One new blouse coat boasts little roar appendages that look like a swal low's tail in flight. Some boleros disappear up into noth ing at the front, while others refuse to cover Beauty's back. Flounces are either plain, circular affairs, or they are tucked or plaited to a part of their depth. Triple collars, the outer one en ap plique, give a fetching finish to the blouse for the linen suit. Plain goods, wash or otherwise, re joice in borders, which come In handy for edging plaitings, as well as panels. All-over tucking makes a pretty dress. Cut in narrow gores it is most effective if set together with inser tion. A floral hat may take the shape of the frame underneath, or it may look like a lot of blossoms caught up by a whirlwind. Under, or lingerie, sleeves come ready to wear. They look curious enough, being sufficiently long to reach the elbow. Those motal tags, which started out mildly enough, have grown to four inches or more in diameter, and in this size are used to flnish off the ends of broad ribbon. Apple I'uddiner* An easily made pudding that has served an old housekeeper on many emergency occasions is prepared by making a mixture of one cupful of flour, one cupful of sugar, one cupful of milk, a half cupful of butter and three eggs, and adding to it three chopped apples and three-quarters of a cupful of chopped raisins. This should be baked in a moderate oven about half an hour. Serve with hard sauce. Aspiirnuiis Soup. Boil the stalks of two bunches of asparagus until they are tender, sav ing the tips for a salad. Drain and rub them through a sieve. To the wa ter in which the asparagus was boiled add one quart of milk and the aspara gus. Cook two tablespoonfuls of butter and one tablespoonful of flour forthree minutes, without browning. Add the soup slowly and rub until smooth. Have ready in the soup tureen one half cupful of cream and the beaten yolk of one egg, and pour the boiling soup over them, stirring until thor oughly mixed. A Dessert for Children. Stewed dates, served with or without cream, make a delicious dessert and are always hailed with delight by the chil dren. Wash a pound of new dates thoroughly and remove the stones. Put them into a stewpan, cover them with two cupfuls of cold water and let them boil 10 minutes. Add to them the juice of one lemon and half a cupful of sugar and boil five minutes longer. Strain the fruit from the syrup and boil the latter alone for 10 minutes. Put the dates into a pudding dish and turn the syrup over them. One-half cupful of finely chopped almonds, Eng lish walnuts or pecan nuts may be added to the syrup. Cuban Coffee. No bard and fast rules can be given for preparing the delightful drink known as Cuban coffee. but the following porportions will probably prove satisfactory for a teacupful of pulverized coffee in a flannel bag, suspend over a porcelain dish and pour a little cold water ovef at intervals until the mass is saturat ed. The first drippings are poured again over the bag and more water added until the dripped liquid is thick and black. Use in all about two cup fuls of water, allowing the process of pouring the drippings over the bag to be repeated at intervals all day. To serve, fill a cup nearly full with scald ed milk and add a teaspoonful of the black coffee extract. How to Cook Vegetable*. Vegetables such as onions, cabbage, cauliflower and turnips may be made more delicate and wholesome by al lowing their odora to escape with the Bteam while they are boiling. There will also be less odor observable about the house if this is done than if the flavors are allowed to concentrate in tightly closed vessels. While doubt less a certain amount of nutriments are lost by this means, the vegetables by being rendered more palatable be come more digestible. The same is true of boiled meats, and the lid of the kettle should be left partly off while they arc cooking; oth erwise there will lie a strong, unpala table flavor. All green vegetables should be boiled in an uncovered ves sel. Some housekeepers claim that a dish of steaming vinegar on the range will prevent cooking odors from per meating the house. llouMeliold Hint*. Mirrors, if at all well framed and well placed, are usually a good addi tion. Pots and pans that have been burned should be set to boil with cold water and a lump of soda. Flannels and other all-wool textures should be both washed and rinsed in waters of even temperature. After washing fine lace pull it into shape and dry it on a sheet of glass; it will be ready for use without iron ing. When the smoke bells are suspended over the gas burners to shield the ceiling, it is better to have them come as low as possible, but not closer than 12 or IS inches to the flame. *' Do not put pans and kettles partly filled with water on the stove to soak, as it only makes them more difficult to clean. Fill them with cold water and soak away from the heat Moulds in which blancmanges are to be put should be wet to insure their easy turning out; on the other hand, in those to be used for jelly no water should go, as it will crack the jelly. Parsley can be kept for winter use in soups and sauces by plunging fresh bunches of it intofslightly salted boil ing water and boiling for three min utes. At the end of that time it should he removed and dried quickly near the fire. A room is dusted only when the dust Is taken out of the room, and that is done only when it has been carried out of the room. This is done by us ing a soft cloth to dust with and by wiping the surface of each article slow ly and with care not to throw the par ticles of dust up in the air, whence they will settle again instantly some where else.