fREELMD IRIBUNE. ESTABLISHED 1888. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, BY TIIE TRIEUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE* LONG DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUBSCRIPTION RATES FREELAND.-The TRIBUNE is delivered by carriers to subscribers in Freeland at the rate of 12H cents por month, payable every two months, or sl.oOa year, payable in advance The TRIBUNE may bo ordered direct form the carriers or from the office. Complaints of Irregular or tardy delivery service will re ceive prompt attention. BY MAIL —Tho TRIBUNE is rent to out-of town subscribers for §1.50 a year, payable in advance; pro rata torms for shorter periods. Tho date when tho subscription expires is on the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must be made at tho expiration, other wise the subscription will be discontinued. Entered at the Postofflce at Freeland. Pa* as Second-Class Matter. Make all money orders , checks, cti. ,pny hie to the Tribune I'rinting Company, Limited. A NOVEL"PROJECT. TO PRESENT A LOVING CUP TO CERVERA. A Sidney, New York, Man Who Proposei to Honor tho Gallant Spanish Ad mlrul with u Token of Esteem front Americans. A movement which will result in ar event unprecedented in history —thi presentation of a testimonial of regard and esteem from the people of a coun try which the recipient came to devas tate with armed ships and men—has been instituted by Arthur Bird, of Sid ney, and there is every reason to be lieve that it will be carried to a suc cessful end. Admiral Pascual Cervera, commandei of the Spanish fleet which met disastei off Santiago, won the high regard ol the entire nation by his chivalrous treatment of Lieut. Hobson and his meD of the Merrimac, who were captured in Santiago harbor after the attempt to close the channel by the sinking of the Merrimac. The admiral dispatched □ messenger to the commander of the United States fleet blockiding tho har bor and informing him of the men's safety and saying they would be well treated. His act was one of considera tion and thoughtfulness, as by it he re lieved the American public of great anxiety, and it i 3 without a parallel in the annals of warfare. Arthur Bird, a newspaper man ol Sidney, conceived the idea of present ing Admiral Cervera a testimonial which would show the appreciation oJ the American people for his generous act. His suggestion met with populai favor and was indorsed by Secretarj of tho Navy Long, Rear Admiral Stan ton, Lieutenant Commander Hobson and others prominent in the nation's affairs. The token will tako tho form of a loving cup. An organization has been perfected for the purpose of bring ing the matter to the attention of the public and enlisting support in it 3 bo half. Arthur Bird, the father of the move jiff 4MI& 'Jit ARTHUR BIRD, ment, was born in Port au Prince, Hav ti, in 1853. He studied at Cornell Uni versity and under the Hayes adminis tration served as vice consul general at Port au Prince. Ho established the Sidney Record in 1882. At that time the village had a population of less than 500, but now it is an industrial center with a population of 2,500. Mr. Bird has proved a great benefactor to Sidney by championing every effort to make it an enterprising and prosper ous village. Mr. Bird has published a book which has met with popular suc cess. The I.nveßt Abont Tlatt. Here is the latest Patti anecdote, says an exchange: Last winter she was staying for a few days in an iso lated English village at the extreme end of Yorkshire. To kill the mono tony of the place tho prima donna went one night to a concert given in aid of a certain village institution. Not half of the performers turned out. Appreciating the difficulty, Mme. Patti (Incognito, of course) offered to oblige the audience with a song or two. Then she sang in her own glorious way, three of her sweetest ballads. At the close tho chairman approached, and in solemn tones, thanked her. "Well, miss," he said, "you've done uncom mon well; and, although 'Arry 'Ock, the Juggler, who thinks nowt of takin' 'old of 'ot pokers and a-swallorln' needles, couldn't turn up, yet you've pleased us very considerable, mias!" THE SONG OF LIFE. One must eing of the sunshine; - '~~ One must sing of the mountains; One must sing of the rain; # One must sing of the sea; One must sing us the songs of joy; ~ One must sing us the song of love; And one sing woe's refrain; - And one in hate's shrill key; Yet in the end all the songs will blend Yet all will rise to the blending skies In one harmonious strain. In ono grand harmony. One must sing of the future; Love and hate and compassion. With hopes and fearings rife; Sorrow and right and wrong, ' * 1 One must sing of the misty past— Past and future and war and peace— Its dreaming and its strife— Kise in an anthem strong, iYet they will meet in a chord full sweet— And all will grow, as they ebb and flow- The marvelous song of life. To life's unceasing song. —Josh Wink, in Baltimore American# BY SHELDON C- STODDARD. PET WE EX the men of Plnerift 1 umbei' camp and those of Camp Seven, farther up the river, there at all times was a strong rivalry. "Velvet Joe," the biggest and possibly the roughest Pinerift man, averred 1t existed "on gin'ral principles." Did Camp Seven perform some par ticularly hazardous feat in jam-hrenlt lng, Pinerift took 110 peace until It had equaled and, if possible by any known means, excelled the Camp Seven achievement. Had Pinerift the champion team for hauling, Camp Seven bestirred itself diligently until it had matched the champion. The feeling extended even to the cooks and the chore-boys. Honors had for a long time been about evenly divided between the two camps, but at last Camp Seven had won a victory, to its great and osten tatious delight. Tom Patengill, the son of Camp Seven's foreman, a strapping young fellow of eighteen, had on two distinct occasions per formed feats of jam-breaking which even the older men of either camp had found it impossible to excel. Cer tainly none of the Pinerift young fel lows had equaled the exploits of young Patengill, and Camp Seven claimed the championship with noisy acclaim. Heretofore the Pinerift men had fully held their own, and this, their iirst uumlstakablo defeat, rankled. "If old Turner only had a son now, 'stead of that gal-boy of his that's afraid of the water!" growled Velvet Joe to his mates in great disgust. "But shucks!" "That's so, Joe, all right enough," assented Pete Adams, a grizzled driver. "Dicky Turner would he afraid of wettin' his fete, let aloue riding a lot of rollin' logs." Turner, the foreman, himself felt the loss of prestige that the camp had received, and several times Dick Turner caught his father's eyes fixed upon him lialf-reproachfully. Dick was a quiet young follow, with square shoulders and a broad, deep chest that showed plenty of power to endure. On the whole, he had perhaps more than ordinary courage, but he had an uncontrollable aversion to—perhaps it would not he too harsh to suy fear of —the swift, swirling waters of the river. Tho feeling had been horn with him, and try as ho might, he could not overcome it. "Well, now, if the critter ain't skeerod of the water!" Velvet Joe had said, in a tone of mingled pity and disgust when the truth was first borne in upon him. And lie expressed the sentiment of the cnuip. Young Turner, tho only young fellow in their camp with sufiicient strength and quickness to attempt to pick up Tom Patenglll's gauntlet, whs "skcercd of the water." Unable to understand In the least this "queerness," as the men termed It, they had come to feel contempt for the quiet young fellow. Half hidden hitherto, out of respect to the sturdy foreman, the feeling now began to show outright. Dick Turner under stood, and it cut him to the quick, but he gave no sign. There were tilings which he could do, if he could not drive logs on the river, and one thing he could do es pecially well. lie had a wonderful gift for handling and training horses. This talent he had doubtless Inherited from his father. About a year before the foreman had bought a noted stallion, which for size, strength and beauty was fam ous far and near. The splendid ani mal also had the well-earned reputa tion of being in disposition the ugliest brute that ever pawed the turf. He was said to have killed one trainer, and to have been under sentence of death therefor when Turner bought him. But the dauntless lunmbcrman believed he could train the horse into submission. But nftcr several futile attempts and two or three narrow escapes from death, he had acknowledged himself defentcd, and had condemned the stallion to be shot. It seemed a pity. At least, so Dick Turner thought. Never had so gallant an animal been seen in that part of the country. And the boy's heart, like that of a certain Illustrious liorsc tamer of old, swelled with the desire to conquer and subdue the handsome, terrible creature. Reluctantly, and only after the young fellow had demonstrated some thing of his skill and power, did his father consent and give the horse into his care. No one knew Dick's methods, no one understood, not even the father, his mystic power, for most of the boy's work was done alone, but cer tain It is that a few weeks after the lumbermen were astonished to sec that "Ugly Mack" acknowledged a master —Just one in all the world. For a few days the Incident was discussed more or less in the camp, and then practically dismissed. Such a feat was out of the rlvermen's line of work. "Nothing but breakin' a horse, anyway," Velvet Joe said, and most of the men considered it an achievement not even worth mention ing in comparison with tho deeds of Tom Patengill, the young jam-breaker. Tho winter of 18S4-5 was one long to he remembered by the men of the two lumber camps. In the latter part of the winter one of the great blizzards peculiar to the Northwest had swept suddenly down over the woods, de positing over the whole region a tre lucndoifs burden of snow. Tills had been quickly followed by thawing •weather nd heavy and persistent rains. Unparalleled floods followed. To ward the end of the third day the river had risen to a point never reached before within tho memory of any of the men, and was still rising. Traditions of the region, perhaps hardly lialf-believed hitherto, were more than verified. Work was impos sible, and one after another all the men of Camp Seven strolled down un easily to rinerift camp to see If the two great bridges that spanned the river a short distance below it would be able to withstand the unprecedent ed flood. The bridges, one a wagon bridge and the other, a few rods be low, the railroad bridge, had been well built, and as yet stood firm. But the water was now perilously high. Soon all the men were down by the rivorhank to watch the flood—all ex cept Dick Turner. That queer horror of the water had caught like on Iron hand at his chest and throat, and from tho door of the main slianty of tho camp lie silently watched the bridges. Suddenly a great shout went up from the men. A monster pine, un dermined and uprooted at last from the place that had nourished it for nearly a century, was rushing swiftly down toward the bridges. It missed the abutment, but a portion of the great clump of roots tossed up by the heaving water caught the wood work. There was a single sharp crack, and the tree shot on, leaving a gap In the bridge fully twenty feet wide. And then the rushing giant of de struction struck one of tho abutments of the railroad bridge below. The shock was too much for the over taxed structure, which had stood so well. Even as the pier gave way the central span came down, to be swept off like broken egg-shells on the flood. The men stood in silent amazement at the sight. Only a few seconds had been required to complete the double wreck. Suddenly some one shouted: "Tlie train! Number 17 Is due in five minutes'." It was true, and on the farther side was no living soul to give warning. The excited men rushed out upon tlie broken wagon bridge, only to start back from the yawning rent, below which the muddy waters roared. There they stood, helplessly watching the sharp curve in tlie railroad track, round which in so short a time the train would come sweeping to destruc tion. A shout arose behind them, and there came like the wind a horse, black as niglit, bearing on Ids back a rider with white face but steady, un faltering eyes. All knew Turner's Dick nnd the terrible stallion. Tlie men shrank back; and then, wltli a mighty thunder of hoofs, the ugly, halw-wlld creature dashed upon tlie bridge. Angry at sight of tlie men, with ears laid back and with wicked-looking eyes, lie yet obeyed the voice and band of his dauntless rider, who now gave a quick, peculiar call and leaned forward in his scat. There was a breathless rush as the fiery creature made instant response. Straight at ilie fearful gap they (lashed. There was n quick uplifting on the bits, another sharp call, and then the astounded lumbermen snw tho great black bulk rise in the air and shoot out over tlie flood. And the liorse bad landed fairly upon the broken planks of the farther side! A sliout went up, a shout that horror checked, for the treacherous plank gave way, and down upon breast and knees came the gallant liorse. down and slipping backward toward the swift water. But the liorse had a determined spirit. Again came the sharp com mand, and as if on springs of steel tlie stallion once more struggled forward, only to go down again upon the treach erous planking. A broken. Jagged joist had cauglit him in the neck, anil the men could see tlie deep, tliree-cor nered cut, from which a small red stream was trickling. Still unsubdued, the stallion plunged again, and tills time reached the firm, unbroken floor. Then with a hound he left the bridge, and splashing girtli deep across the overflowed strip be- low tlie rond, hp scrambled up tlip In cline to the track, and a moment later disappeared, still at a gallop, around the curve. Benson, the engineer, was scanning the track closely as the train swung down the grade toward the curve that hid Sinking River bridge, when ho was startled to see through the gather ing mist a horseman galloping up the track straight toward the train, and gesticulating wildly. In an instant the whistle bellowed out its hoarse call for brakes. And then the watching lumbermen snw Number 17 swing round the curve with engine reversed and brakes set, still sliding forward on the wet and slippery rails, but stopping at last twenty-five feet from the ruined bridge. The fireman and presently a number of men jumped down from the train and ran forward. They looked at the twisted, broken rails that reached out over the tumult of waters below, and the broken wagon bridge above, with Its crowd of watching lumbermen. The fireman, remembering the warn ing horseman, turned and explained, and a group of men instantly started back up the track. Directly they found him whom tlicy sought, a young fellow standing by the road bed in his shirt sleeves, un mindful of the rain into which the heavy mist had thickened. lie was bandaging with narrow strips that ho had cut from his coat an all but fatal wound in the neck of the big stallion, whose proud head drooped by his shoulder. It was a number of days later, and the men of Tlnerlft lumber earnp were at dinner, when Dlclc Turner once more went up the path that led past the main shanty. He walked slowly and with a limp, for his leg had been badly bruised during the scramble on the bridge. Over his arm was the bridle of the black horse, which also walked with an unsteady, shuffling gait—a gait that would, however, soon regain Its former ease and vigor. The young fellow cast a half-ap prehensive look at the camp as he went by, and wondered if he were to undergo more of the old treatment He turned off at the little path that led to the rude shed in which Ugly Mack was used to being Isolated, but stopped presently In quick surprise. A clean, new stable stood in the place of the shed, and above its door were the words, "Ugly Mack." With a quick thrill of appreciation, young Turner led the horse into the handsome stall and fed him sparingly from a generous supply of corn thrown up iu one corner of the building. Coming out presently, he was sur prised to find nil the Pinerift men awuitlug him. He tried to thank them, but Velvet Joe cut him short. "We're glud If you like the hut, young feller," he said, "and if It'll do you any good to know It, I'll tell you now that there ain't u mnn on this Job but what'll give his last dime—yes, and the last coat off his back If neces sary—to buy corn for that ugly critter in yonder. And as for you, young chap," the voice of the big fellow softened, "why—well, this crowd Is goin' to give a kind of a salute and a cheer for the bravest chap that every struck Sinking Elver." And byway of "salute" the big lumbermen caught the young fellow up, and on brawny arms and shoul ders carried him in triumph back to camp. Big Joe swung his hat, and the men sent out a cheer that echoed far up and down the river. Camp Seven caught It, and at once divined Its meaning. The rough, bearded crew—rivalry for the time being lost in the liner feeling of ad miration for a brave deed well per formed—sent back an answering cheer. —Youth's Companion. Veneered Diamonds. Every one is aware that when real diamonds are cut a quantity of Hue dust is given off which is apparently valueless. But lapidaries collect the sweepings from the table and sell them to the makers of artificial gems at S2O per pound, who purify them with acid that destroys everything but tlie pure diamond dust. This is mixed with another acid and placed under enormous pressure, which re sults In sheets of diamond dust as thin as paper being given off. The faces of the sham stone are then covered with transparent cement and a layer of diamond paper laid upon them. When dry the false jewels, veneered with the real dust, are so similar to the genuine stones that they are often set in pure gold, but no one but an expert can detect the difference and then only with the aid of a powerful magnifying glass. This is, of course, the most expensive artificial gem made, inasmuch as one that lias been properly veneered can not be purchased for less than $2.50. A Kemurknblo Traveler. A remarkable traveler has just ar rived at Cork, a Eussian Cossack, who Is Journeying around the world on foot. He left his home on the slopes of the Caucasian Mountains in 1802, and set out on a tramping expedition with the determination of seeing the people und the countries of the world, having been filled with this desire from reading books of travel. During tlie nine years he has been in Central Asia, Siberia. Manchuria, Korea, Japan, India, Persia, Turkey and the Southern countries of Europe. He was in Paris during tlie recent exhibi tion there, and subsequently came over to London. He lias yet to visit Americn, Australia and Africa. In the course of his wanderings he has experienced many strange adventures. He has gone days without food, and was obliged > make some of ills sea journeys as a stowaway. He lias acquired on his journey a fair knowl edge of rix languages.—London Chronicle. . The Llglit-Wglglit Vacation. Over the hills and far away Would I could hie this summer day .With baggage 011 this lightsbme plan—■ A Jap umbrella and a fan. Some paper books—l should not read— A few small coins—l would not need' Ail work forgotten—off I'd stray, Over the hills and far away. —Chicago Ilecord-Hcrald. Ttio XIo and tlio She. "Miss Slimsby's neck looks like ivory, doesn't it?" "Yes, but it's really nothing but bone."—Brooklyn Life A Sail Travesty. .Taggles—"Do you think he's hon est?" Waggles—"Why, man, he's so honest that everybody calls him a crank!"— Tuck. No Difference. Mrs. Peterby—"My dressmaker's bill was twice as large this year as last." Mrs. Poplin—"l don't see bow your husband can afford it?" "lie can't. But tlien he couldn't last year."—Life. Tils Sympathy Aroused. She met him at the door, all breath less with excitement. "John," she cried, "baby's cut a tooth." "Poor little fellow," he returned, com mlseratingly; "is it a bad cut?"— Ch icago Post. Tlio Kind He Wanted. "Young man," said the fortune teller, going into a trance, "I can see you, in the near future, with an airship—" "Make it an heirship to a million, can't you?" eagerly exclaimed Ardup, slipping another half dollar into her hand.—Chicago Tribune. A Miraculous Survivor. Hohbs—"Tubbs is the most remark able man I know." Dohbs—"ln what way?" Hobhs—"Ho weighs about ISO pounds, and according to his own account he nevet eats anything and hasn't had a good night's sleep for thirty years."—Chicago Record- Her ald. A Contrast, to Avoid. "I don't want to see Lydia when she comes back from that summer school." "Why not?" "Oh, she will he bursting with knowledge while the rest of us have beeu sitting around here in the heat forgetting what little we know."—De troit Free Press. Itcady For the Ilufiii. They had been drifting about in the open boat seven days, and all were near unto death, when the linlf-fain islied sailor in the how leaped up and cried "A snil! A sail!" "What, a bargain sale?" shrieked the half-dead woman passenger, as she began fumbling for her purse.— Baltimore World. .Tufit What lie Meant. "So you resolved to say just what you mean! to Miss Winnem," re marked Miss Cayenne. "Yes," answered Willie Wishing ton; "I came out bodily and asked her if she would be mine." "Oh, that isn't what you meant. The real question is, "Can you be hers?"' —Washington Star. Devious. Wheeler—"l took that short (?> trip you recommended. It was thirty miles." Sprockett—"Well ?" Wheeler—"Well, you said it was only fifteen miles as the crow files." Sprockett—"Ah! Maybe ilie crows were full of corn the day you went." —Philadelphia Press. A Profit In Sight. "Yes," said the man who prides himself on being exceedingly astute, "I lent liim an umbrella." "I'm surprised at you! When his unreliability about umbrellas Is one of bis chief characteristics!" "Yes. But I lent it with the under standing that he is to bring me hack the one he gets in its place." A Pessimistic Opinion. "They say that in order to lie hap py," said the young woman who reads a great deal, "a man ought to be a fool or a philosopher." "Yes," answered Miss Cayenne. "If R man is a fool he can't get a woman to accept him. And if he is as wise as philosophers are credited with being he won't propose."—Washington Star. llusy. "Young Mr. Dawdles has become very Industrious since lie decided to go into business. His olliee hours are from 8 a. m. to C p. m. "Yes," answered Miss Cayenne; "I understand that lie has had to raise his office boy's wages for staying all that time to tell people that Mr. Dawdle had just gone out, but would be iu at 11 o'clock next morning."— Washington Star. Happy Thought. Aunt Hannah—"What makes you look so sad to-night, Frederick':" Frederick—"Only think of it, Auntie! I came away from Carries io-nlght without asking if she loved me." Aunt Hannah—"But she has told you she loves you, time and time again." Frederick—"Oh, yes, and she to!d me EO to-night the first>of the even ing; but I always ask her when I come away. There's one Ming I can do. I'll write her a long before 1 go to bed."—Boston Transcript- TO A TORTOISE. Paludal, glum, with misdirected legs, You hide your history as you do your eggs, And offer us an osseous nut to crack Much harder than the shell upon your back. No evolutionist has ever guessed Why your cold shoulder is within your chest— Why you were discontcd with a plan The vertebrates accept, from fish to man. For what environment did you provide Bv pushing your internal frame outside? How came your ribs in this abnormal place? Inside your rubber neck you hide your face And answer not. To science you're a sphinx— A structural epitome of missing links; And when decapitated, still you swell And kick and claw and scramble just as well. But I'll not plague thee. Kven here I find A touch of fellowship that makes me kind. Sometimes a poet who lias lost his head Will keep on scratching when he should be dead. —Chauncey Hickox, in New Lippincott. . p f It takes only one generation to un make n gentleman.—Life. "Pa, what is a pre-glacial man?" "Why, man before he had to pay ice bills, of course."—Detroit Free Press. "But the gown doesn't fit," insisted the patron. "That," replied the mo diste calmly, "is because you are not made right."—Chicago Tost. Wigg— I "Scientists claim that all veg etation has gender." Wagg—"Of course. Even a bed has gender. Didn't you ever hear of a boycott?" Intended—"Well, Tommy, lias your mother told you of my good fortune?" Tommy—"No. She only said she was going to marry you!"— Punch. Those who have lots of money Are often in trouble about it; And those who haven't a cent Are often in trouble without it. —Chicago News. Mrs. Goodsnle—"To what do you at tribute your appetite for strong dr!nk? Is it hereditary?" Wragson Tatters— "No, lady; it's thirst."—Philadelphia Press. "Young man," exclaimed her father, with emotion, "do you think you can keep her in golf balls at the rate she has been accustomed to losing them?" —Puck. The bookkeeper who had worked twelve hours a day for thirty years paused to look at the captivity of a canary. "How pathetic!" he ex claimed.—Life. "I'm thinking of doing a little specu lating," said the lamb. "What's the best thing to put your money in?" "A safe deposit vault," replied the old bird.—Philadelphia Press. "It seems strange to hear you speak so bitterly of him. You used to sny you admired him for the cuomies he has made." "Yes, but I'm one of them, now."—Philadelphia Press. With all the wealth at his command, Alas! he had no familv tree. He^ bought a dog, then lulled it and Thus swiped the canine's pedigree. —Philadelphia Record. Mrs. Black —"Am Lucy Jackson's husband able to go to wuek yit?" Mrs. Johnson—"De docktah say he am, but he say he am only jes' well enough to iuj'y loaflu'." Brooklyn Life. Van Croke—"But, my dear fellow, you can't afford to marry a girl like Ruth Rlchling." Van Broke—"On the contrary, old man, I can't afford to marry any other girl." Towa and Country. "I am suffering from brain-fag, doctah," said Snphclde. "Fish is good fob that, isn't it?" "Very good," re plied the doctor. "Suppose you begin with a medium-sized whale every morning with breakfast." "Is Mickey in condition?" "He's as fine as silk. Ah, Mickey's a great boy. He's got something up his sleeve that'll asstonish all thim other duffers." "What is It, Mister Doolan?" "It's his or-r-nn."—Cleveland Plaia-Dealer. Visitor—"So you weigh 700 pounds? Doesn't It annoy you to have people comment on your size?" Fat Man— "Oil, no! If I wasn't worried to death with fool questions maybe I'd weigh 1000 pounds." Chicago Record Her ald. "He speaks of making headway In the 'teeth of the gale,' " remarked the editor. "False!" said the yachting cor respondent, who knew there had not been even a ripple. "Ah, then I will put It the 'false teeth of the gale.' " Philadelphia Record. It Is sad to see this mercenary spirit so flagrantly manifested in pol ities," said the earnest citizen. "Yes," answered Senator Sorghum. "I have fought against it all I could, hut 'it's no use. I cau't get people to vote my way without payln' 'em."—Washing ton Star. "I'm ready," shouted the speaker to meet calmly any emergency that may arise." At this moment the plat form collapsed, and the speaker exhib ited perturbation. "How about that one? they asked him later. •That one did not arise." he replied mournfully.—Tit-Bits. 40,000 city Kuipioye,. The list of New York City employes duimg the first six months of 31)01 was printed In the New York City Record on Wednesday last. Four hundred and nine pages are taken up with the closely printed lists. The total number of municipal employes Is about 40,000, and of these nearly one-half are In the Police. Fire and Education Departments. The list of teachers and other employes of the schools takes up 131 pages of the list.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers