CHURCH MUSIC. Then swelled the organ; up through the choir and nave The music trembled with a thrill Of bliss at its own grandeur; wave on wave Its iiood of mellow thunder rose, until The hushed air shivered with the throb it gave. Then, poising for a moment, it stood still And sank and rose again, to burst in spray That wandered into silence far away. —Lowell. WHY CONVBCT 73 BROKE JAIL. tt MAN stood up at the eross /\ bar grating that admitted light aud air into a small prl son cell. He was watching the fast fading light, and waiting a coming hour, and as he stood there, gulping the clear evening air into his cramped lungs,his emotions grew so strong in him that to keep himself from crying out from sheer excitement he grasped the bars of the grating with such force that the knuckle bones of his bands seemed on the point of breaking through his skin. The man was Convict 73. lie was described In the prison register as "Samuel Henscott, fifty-three years, transferred from rentonville, under sentence of eight years I), s. (three years expired) for stealing money in trusted to him as cashier of Statenford Bunk. The cell in which Convict 73 was con fined was the worst, from an official point of view, in the prison. No other cell in the place afforded such facilities for escape, and for this reason the com partment was seldom used. But It happened that at this time the accom modations of the prison were taxed to the utmost, and, it being necessnry that the cell should be occupied by" some prisoner, 73 wtls turned into it. "Resigned," was bow the chaplain had described 73 after their first inter view, and it really appeared to the other officers that Samuel Henscott was satisfied with the justice of his penalty. He was not resigned; never was man less so, hut he had played the part, waiting for whnt he was waiting ns he stood panting with excitement at the cross-bar grating, longing for revenge on the man he knew had committed the crime for which Samuel Henscott had become Convict 73. ## The work before him was not ted ious, for he was prepared for this hour, occupying his secret moments in loos ening the cement which formed the lower stone of the casement in which the ends of two bars of the grating were imbedded. This stone removed, the grating lost its fixity and the two perpendicular bars were soon forced out of the upper sockets, which left the two horizontal bars sufficiently wide apart for Henscott to squeeze himself, feet foremost, between them. He dropped a couple of l'eet to the wide gutter, just succeeding in main taining his balance, and crept along round the corner to the buttress he had noticed from the exercise yard. 1 lie passed over the outer wall, en countering no one, and along a road for about 200 yards, wlien he turned and went he hardly knew where. When he found himself In a large, well-kept garden, and before him ho saw the dim outline of a house and some trees behind it, looking like a gi gantic skull with one bright yellow eye —a yellow window blind through which n strong light flooded onto the dewy lawn beneath his feet. That was the window, he thought, behind that blind—in that strong light sat the man he had broken jail to meet. It was a long French window, and it stood ajar, and the soft night breeze stirred the blind slightly. Ilenscott cautiously crept to the win dow, crouched down and pushed the blind a little aside so that he could see Into the room between the blind Ind the framework of the window. He saw a man sitting at a table reading, and he started to his feet. "Riverley," he whispered, panting. Noiselessly he pulled open the win- Bow, and for a moment he stood with his foot on the threshold, striving to control his intense excitement. Then he dashed the blind aside and hounded Into the room. "I have come, Riverley," said 73, In n low voice, trembling with suppressed passion; "I have come to reckon with yon, ns I see by your face you under stand." "Where have you come from?" Riv erley said faintly. "But you need not answer, for I can guess. You have escaped from prison, you're being hunted and want me to assist you. I cannot, I dare not." "You know better than that, Jack Riverley. You know that If I wore starving—starving, and you stood by me with the most tempting foods, I would not beg a crumb from you! No —no! I have escaped, and I am prob ably pursued; but it is not assistance I'm seeking here, hut re\lenge—and you know it, you know it. You cannot play the Innocent as you played the friend, Riverley. But if you wish to hear the story of your perfidy and crime from me—from me, you shall. You played my friend—you won your way by the charm of your manners Into my full esteem and confidence; you did it with an object. You played my friend until you had the chance for which you had been waiting. You knew when there would he two thou sand pounds in the bank safe, and that I always carried the keys about me. You drew me, trading on my love for billiards, to accept the chal lenge of Mr. Makeshall to play him on the night when you were certain that the money would be In the safe, and while we played you took the keys from my coat pocket, and went to the bank and stole they money. "And you abandoned me. Yon al lowed me to be arrested, tried and con demned, without stirring a finger to save me, and it was not until I had been Imprisoned that I guessed how and by whom I had been tricked, be fooled and ruined. "You courted Marls, taught her how to love you, and then poisoned her life by shaming me; that was part of your vile scheme. You used her to win your way to my esteem, and you knew that in my love for her I should love whom she loved, and who loved her. And where is she? God knows! Where can a homeless, friendless felon's daughter drift to in four long years If she has not died, then she is worse than dead, and you—you have slain her body and soul. "You have ruined the man who trust ed and befriended you, and have killed the girl who loved and believed in you! What mercy do you hope from me? What less than your vile life could I demand?" "1 did betray you," Riverley gasped. "I did betray you. I had to have the money to save myself from ruin. I never thought—never—that It would fall on you, and to the very last I be lieved you would get off. And when I found you were condemned I had not courage to confess, because—he cause of Marie. Listen—listen to that!" lie held up an arm, and looked im ploringly at Henscott, who, struck by his words, and thinking some one might be approaching the house, bated his breath and listened. A low, strange coolug sound struck on his ears, and glancing round the room he saw it proceeded from a low cot which stood In the shade of a corner of the room. "I married her—your Marie," said Riverley, speaking excitedly and very rapidly. "She never doubted your Innocence or suspected my guilt, and she was almost happy. I did not triek her into loving me; she was my love. I married her, and there's our child." Henscott said nothing for a minute. He stood and stared stupidly at River ley. Then; "And Marie ?" he said in a whisper. "She Is dead." Not a muscle of Ilenscott's face tight ened or relaxed. After pausing a mo ment, ns If weighing the meaning of the word, ho stole over to the corner, and knelt down on one knee. Ho drew hack the cot curtains with a trembling hand, and looked down at the little pink face, into the blue eyes which looked up at him. "We call her Marie," said Riverley, faintly. "Marie!" repeated Ilenscott, almost inaudibly. Henscott's head sank lower and lower over the cot, until his hair touched the infant's face. "Marie, Marie, Marie!" he whimp ered. lie stooped over lower, and kissed the warm, velvet cheek of the child, who flung herself over on her side, be cause his heard was harsh. lie watched her for a few seconds more, then rose. "Her child—liis child!" ho muttered. "Better that I than he " He stooped down and rearranged the curtains tenderly. lie moved slowly toward the window. "Walt here," ho said, gently, and he went put. Riverley waited. He waited till dny hrenk, till dusk ngaln, and through the night. And then he understood. Riverley rtiul little Marie were still waiting when, more than three years later, Henscott came hack to them after his release from the prison to which he had returned.—New York News. A llonlicy and an Opera Glnae. The pet monkey of a German profes sor, having made his escape, climbed Into a tree and defied all attempts to catch him. Well knowing the imita tive habits of the animal his master hit on a curious plan to regain ids pet. He looked at the monkey through an opera glass, pointing the small end at him for some time, and then he retired to a short distance, leaving the opera glass on the ground. The Imitative monkey descended from the tree, and, taking the opera glass, gazed after a similar manner, at his master, who seemed to the deluded ape to be half a mile dis tant. The monkey,still looking through the same end of the opera glass, sup posed his mnster was several hundred yards distant, when the lntter, reach ing out, secured the chain and led the victim of an optical illusion hack to his cage. Photographers' Wrrpb. The ability to take pictures with a camera in an amateurish way has filled the land with peripatetic semi professional photographers. They live In tents or shacks on next to nothing at all, and actually manage to lay up a little money. Sometimes they maiiry and take their-brides along. Possibly tliey have done much to lower the wages of professionals. I am told that 3100 a month is a fair and reasonable compensation In this city for the serv ices of a skilled photographer of the highest grade. I never knew one In a small city or town that was not ns poor as a church mouse.—Victor Smith, in New York Press. Printing In Turkey. All printing establishments in Tur key, according to a new law jusl passed, may have only ono door, and that opening on the street. Windows must be covered with close-meshed wire netting, so that no papers can be handed through. A statement must he made a year in advance of the amount of Ink required, which will be supplied by the State. A specimen of every thing printed Is to be kept and musi be shown at any time to a police in spector on pain of a fine. and ® © © © /\elVenture. A NARROW ESCAPE. £ £ £~> PEAKING of beurs re minds me of an experience I lied on Cat Island, a small chunk of land In Arkansas, and on the St. Francis River, in 1878," said an old resident of Ar kansas, "and it was one of the most thrilling experiences I ever had in the woods. I was farming on Cat Island that year. It is a dense, wild, section, the underbrush made up of bamboo and other matted and tangling vines Was almost impenetrable, and alto gether it was simply impossible for a man to get through the woods without cutting his way through, and lie had to crawl nearly all the time at that. In 1878 bears were almost as thick as wild cane in that section. They made 0 savage attack on my corn crop, and 1 had resorted to all sorts of expedients to get rid of them, but without any sort of success. Every night they would invade my cornfield, get an arm ful of corn, as much as a bear could carry in his arms, which is no small nmount, and would take it on to the den. When they first began the attack I spent many nights in the persimmon trees at the back fence line of the place Watching for them. I had a small scaffold built in every persimmon tree along tli? fence line, but I believe a bear can smell a human being ten miles if the wind happens to be favorable. During the nights I watched from the persimmon tree the wind was blowing back toward the woods, and not a bear entered the cornfield. But this is not the point I had in mind. One drizzling afternoon I went out into the woods several miles back of tho place hunt ing for one of my mules, and Just took my gun along to be on the safe side of an emergency, for in addition to the great number of bears that season catamounts and panthers were plenti ful. "I was alone, with tho exception of a couple of green, untrained hound pups, who wouldn't leave my heels under any circumstances until the little experience lam about to relate. After winding around for some time I came upon a rather large, hollow tree, the base of which aroused the suspicion in my mind that it was the abode of some kind of an animal. Tho hound pups strengthened tills belief by whin ing and scampering around through the undergrowth in a half frightened sort of way. The opening at the base of the tree was about as large around as a whiskey barrel. I concluded that I would catch a glimpse of daylight Jt the top, for the tree had the evidence of being hollow all the way up. I leaned my shotgun against tho tree and shoved my head through the opening In the side of tho tree. My head and face were literally covered by a shower of wood dust. There was a heavy, deep roar in the body of the tree, and as quick as a Hash a big, black, ponder ous something dropped to tho ground, and in an instant I found myself face to face with a henr. lie shot his head out through the hole, showed me his teeth—teeth which seemed to me to be *s sharp as daggers, and they were aot short, either. I found my hound pups at home. They didn't return with me, and if they had I couldn't have told just how they got back. I left a lino breech-loading shotgun lean ing against the tree, and it's there yet, *o far as I am aware. The bear ac tually blew ills brenth in my face, and I became panic stricken, and to save my life I can't tell whether I went over or under the cane in getting out of the woods."—New Orleans Times-Demo crat. HIS LAST MESSAGE. When Mrs. Johnson, the prisoner's friend, was dying, her thoughts were still of tho cause to which she had de voted her life. She talked about it to the Bishop of Rochester, who was with her, declaring that the inspiration of her life hnd been her unwavering faith In an accessible spot in every soul, no matter how sunk in sin that soul might be. "Don't you believe that it is there?" ■he asked. The bishop hesitated. "Perhaps," he answered, gravely, " it is more truly a matter of hope than of faith." "Then," she replied. Instantly, "you couldn't do the work." Several years ago one of our prison chaplains told the story of the man who taught him the faith that Mrs. Johnson declared necessary. lie was a man who had been convict ed of robbing a bank and sent to prison for a long term. After ho had been there a while another man was accused of complicity. The second man had a wealthy father; if the son could be con victed, the father would indemnify the bank for its loss. One day two unscrupulous lawyers went to the prison to see the convict. They sat on the edge of his bed and talked to him for a long time. They both could and would procure a par don for him, they declared, if he would only testify that the second man was guilty. As soon as they wore gone the pris oner sent for the chaplain. The poor fellow was weak and ill, and terribly excited. "Don't let me see those men again!" be cried. "They offer me pardon, and God knows I'd like to be free; but I can't do it. Arnold wasn't with us. He wanted to go, but I said, 'Arnold, you have a father and mother. Don't go!' and ho didn't. Do you understand? He wasn't with us!" The chaplain quieted him and prom ised that lie should not be troubled again, and nftor a while went away. A few nights later there came an urgent call; the convict was dying of hemorrhage, j When the chaplain reached him he was beyond speech, but he made a sign for paper. The warden handed him his pass-book and pencil. With a supreme effort the weak hand wrote four words—the bun den of all his thonght: "Arnold is not guilty." lie died a fow hours later; but be neath the common convict, paying the just penalty of Ills crime, had been re vealed, dimmed and blurred, it is true, hut not destroyed, tho spirit of a hero. CAUGHT IN nis COON TEAT. Silas Remey, who lives on Chapline River, iu Mercer County, Is a famous trapper. Monday Sllaß and his little son spent all the aftornpon setting traps along the river cliffs and set their last one just at nightfall. This was one of Silas's own inven tion and most effective la catching coons. On the river hank was a log that every coon that passed would visit, and here Silas set bis trap. An augur hole was bored In tho log, a crawfish was dropped to, and four long steel nails, as .sharp pointed as needles, were drlvon in at an angle so that Mr. Coon could thrust in his han< for tho crawfish easily enough, but not withdraw it, because the points of the noils are like barbs that thrust into his paw, and tho harder ho pulls the deeper the barbs stick Into the flesh. So when Silas had set his trap, as it was now almost dark, he thrust in his finger to feel the points. They seemed to be sot about right—ln fact, were set so nicely that when ho tried to withdraw his finger he was in Mr. Coon's plight exactly. One of the barbs entered his linger and almost before he knew it all had him tight. The more he struggled the deeper his barbs sank into his flesh. This was anything but a laughing matter to Si las. His old knife wns too dull to make any headway in cutting the nails, so after thinking the matter over ho started his little hoy home with n lighted lantern to get the pincers to pull out the nails. The loy made his way up the cliff, lost his way, fell over rocks and logs and extinguished the lantern. Unable to get his bearing, the lad slept under a ledgo of rock and came near freezing. Meanwhile Silas sat astride the log in a pouring rain and thought Sunday-school words. But a real danger began to threaten him. Tile river began rising rapidly. It crept up until it reached the lower end of the log. As daylight approached ft began to rock slightly and Silas knew an end was floating. Higher and higher rose the water, and Silas knew that if he washed into the current with the log death wns certain. In his desperation he pulled Ills dull barlow and literally sawed his finger off above the middle joint and the log floated away. In live minutes afterward another trapper came along and found him. He was so chilled that lie was unable to walk home alone.—Louisville Evening Post HOW SCOTT MET DEATH. In tho United States, the free hunt ers approach tho mountains by three main routes. It was coming down the Platte that poor Scott's canoe was overturned, his powder lost and his rifles rendered useless. Game had re treated to tho mountains with spring's advance. Berries were not ripe by the time trappers wero descending with their winter's hunt. Scott and his famishing men could not find edible roots. Each day Scott weakened. Thcro wns no food. Finnll Scott hnd strength to go no farther. His men had found tracks of some other hunt ing party far to the fore. They thought that in any case he could not live. What ought they to do? Hang back and starve with him, or hasten forward while they hnd strength, to the party whose tracks they had espied? On pretense of seeking roots, they deserted tho helpless man. The next spring, when these same hunters went up the Platte, they found the skeleton of poor Scott sixty milo3 from tho place where they had left him. The terror that spurred the emaciated man to drag himself all this weary distance can barely be conceived; but such were the fearful odds taken by every free trapper who went up the Platte, across tho parched plains, or to the headwaters of the Missouri.— Outing. BEAR ATTACKS A SLEEPER. At Hamilton City, Mich., T. Calvwell, night operator for the Pere Marquette, had n hand-to-hand fight with a bear and carries many marks of tho strug gle. He was asleep at his desk about 2 o'clock a. m„ and was awakened by the bear, which entered through an open door. Before he could escape ids face, chest and arms were nearly town to pieces. After a fight lasting five minutes Calvwell got free aud jumped through the window, carrying the sash with him and cutting himself in many places. Calvwell routed out some sec tion men, and a shotgun was obtained. Bruin was found asleep in the office of which he hnd dispossessed Calvwell, and the pnrty opened fire on him, killing him with one discharge. Hi* w(light was over 500 pounds. A LIFE-SAVING NAIL. August Nelson escaped death at the Diamond Mine, Leadville, Col., in a marvelous manner. He, with two other men, wns going down the shaft 800 feet in a bucket, when he disappeared. The bucket continued down to the low er level, the men expecting every mo ment to be crushed by Nelson's body. But ho did not fall. Investigation showed a large nail in the shnft had caught ills rubber coat and pulled him out of tile bucket, and he hung sus pended for ten minutes. He kept per fectly still, for If he had moved ho would have fallen 800 feet and been killed and probably killed his compan | ion.—Chicago Tribune. Bhe Funny *fide of Life. THE MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE. Hia lordship needs to settle up. Nor hesitates to own He's looking for an heiress Who needs to settle down. ■ —Puck. TROUBLE SURE TO MEET "SOU. "Oh, cheer up!" said the sympathiz ing friend. "If you go around looking for It, trouble is always sure to meet you more than half way." ABOVE ALL HIS FELLOWS. "Is Jinks successful as a chauffeur?" "Well, I should say so. Why, he's been arrested eight times in the last two woeks."—Chicago Post. WHERE THE OBLIGATION. LAV. The Patient —"Of course, doctor, if my appendix has got to come out, that settles it," The Doctor—"No. You settle it."— New York Herald. A SCIENTIST. "Why d'ye plant them 'ero cabbages zig-zag, Jim?" "I dooes that ter put th' snails orf the track."—Ally Sloper. HE HAS TO BE. "They tell me your son Is a close student." "He has to be. I don't allow him but a dollnr a month spendln' money." —Cleveland Plain Dealer. WILLING TO OBLIGE. "Can you tell me the nearest way to reach Buffalo street?" "C-c-c-certainly. It's j-J-Just up th th-tliis s-s-s-s—say, I can, I can go with you and show you quicker than I can say it."—Cleveland Plain Dealer. A MAGNIFICENT WORK. "A magnificent work, his latest story, you say?" "Magnificent!' Why, it's the finest story that has been published this cen tury." "Indeed? What's the general idea?" "Oh, half-morocco, gold or uncut edges, cloth edition, finished in four colors, with illuminated pages to every chapter!"— Baltimore News. DIFFERENT. "If your father called me that," said the ambitious young man, flushing with indignation, "he did me an in justice. I take some interest in poli tics, of course, but I am not a lobbyist in any sense of the word." "You don't quite understand me, JJr. Peduncle," said Miss" Flyppe. "He didn't call you a lobbyist. lie said you were a lobster."—Chicago Tribune. A SUBTLE DISTINCTION. A "I understand she proposed to him." "No-o, not exactly; but she dictated his proposal to her."—New York Jour nal. CONVICTED. "Were you ever engaged in a train robbery?" asked the prosecuting attor ney. looking at him severely. "I was never indicted for train rob bery," answered the witness, evasively. "That is not the question." said the lawyer. "I will ask you again. Were yon ever a train robber?" "Judge," said the witness, turning imploringly to the dignitary on the bench, "must I answer that question?" "You must," replied the judge, "and remember, you nre under oath." Tho witness turned pale and his knees trembled beneath him. "I suppose it's got to come out. I sold books and bananas on the cars for a whole year when I was a boy," faltered the miserable man.—New York perald. It is likely thnt in opklomies of ty phoid fever—especially among soldiers in eainp—inoculation will hereafter he practised. Summing up the results of the experiments made during the South African war, Dr. A. E. WrighT" says that in the aggregate the propor tion of deaths to cases among the inoc ulated is approximately kaif that among the uninoculatod. An interesting discovery in the shape of an ancient flint mine has just heen made in the neighborhood ol' High Wycombe, England, in connection with a railroad cutting. The mine was dis covered in excavating a hill. A speci men of a primitive pick was found, made of the antler of a stag, with its points worn perfectly smooth. Many of the partially disintegrated masses still bear tho marks made by these picks in the hands of their prehistoric miners. Professor Ramsay, of London, re cently showed an experimental proot of the aurora borealis. Between the " poles of a powerful elcetro-mnguet, he hung an exhausted glass globe with a metallic ring at tho top. An alternating current discharged -.through the ring In the globe produced an an nular glow, and when a current was sent through the coils of the electro magnet the glow was deflected down ward in streamers resembling these of the aurora. The spectrum of the natural aurora shows the presence of krypton, and in Professor Ramsay's experiment krypton was produced in tlie discharge through the rarefied air within the globe. A form of guy anchor for holding in position poles carrying electric wires is designed like a screw, so that it can ho placed in position without digging, filling or tamping; thus 110 disturbance of tlie ground is effected, and a trc-"v mendous load can he placed on the ' anchor without displacing it. Actual tests with a five-inch (disk diameter)- anehor showed that a pull of SOOth pounds was necessary to draw it from its position in a three-foot hole in sandy soil: which pull is 15000 pounds greater than tlie breaking strain of tho size of guy usually attached to this size of anchor. A twelve-inch anchor withstood a pull of 30,000 pounds when bored into five feet of clay. A patent was recently granted to Alonzo Ramsdeii, a conductor of an elevator in the City Hall of Chicago, for a metal which lie claims will not rust under any conditions. He was at one time a metal-worker and Is ac quainted with the properties of vari ous metals, and he says he has made an alloy, the composition of which lie means to keep a secret, which li.rsi. many of the qualities of Iron and almost as cheap, but which has a rust repelling feature which will make it very valuable for the construction of pipes of various kinds and building purposes. lie says his claims have been vindicated by experiments and that conclusive tests have heen made by n number of disinterested foundry men of that city, and in every ease the sample of metal was found to resist the action of dampness effectually. During the recent turbulent times in the anthracite regions certain indivi duals turned to tlie lingo piles of liitno refuse, called culm, which litter the coal fields. The finely divided coal recovered from these heaps which had been exposed to the elements for a great many years, and the eoal taken from river beds where it had been sub merged for perhaps a decade, found a ready sale, especially to manufacturings concerns. When tlie purchasers under-'1 took to burn it under their boilers it was found practically valueless. The scientific explanation why tills eoal was really, after all, not coal, is illus trated by a recent communication to the Paris Academie des Sciences by M. Moissan. Coal is amorphous car bon, and the French savant found that while the temperature of the combustion or amorphous carbon is lie between throe and five hundred de grees Centigrade, yet oxidation takes place slowly at much lower tempera tures, either in dry or moist air. Now combustion, or burning, is only rapid oxidation, and it is plainly obvious why tho tine coal which had been exposed in piles or under water for a long time had so materially deteriorated. Of course, the oxygen of the air and water had gradually combined with it, slowly, but surely, burned it up with out either heat or fire. Italy's Now Brigand. t Varsalona, the Sicilian brigand Whose notoriety has overshadowed that of Musolino, is still at large, not withstanding the unremitting efforts of the Government for his capture. Two torpedo boats are cruising off tlio Sicilian coast to prevent his escape to the Italian mainland. A prize of £IOOO is offered for his arrest; the Provinces of Palermo and Trapani, where he is supposed to he, are con tinually patrolled. Ills father and one of his brothers, notorious miscreants, died in prison; another brother was implicated in a case of burglary, and a third was killed in a street brawl. To avenge his brother's death Varsa lona committed Ills first murder in 1593. Since then twelve other victims have fallen under his unerring aim. , The man is rich, and the source of his wealth is blackmail. He regularly col lects landowners' contributions, which vary according to the Importance of their estates, and when the money is not forthcoming the cattle and crops of the defaulter are sure to suffer, nud tlie defaulter himself runs great per sonal risks.—London Express,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers