Lititz Record

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P u b l i s h e d E v e r y F r i d a y M o r n i n g by
J. FRANK BITCH.
OFFICE—On Broad street, LItits,
Lancaster County, Pa.
TEHMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.—For o n e y e ar
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la delayed to t h e end of year.
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t b e RECORD for o n e year, for his trouble-
Ail Independent Family Newspaper, Devoted to Literature, Agriculture;Local and Cteneral. Intelligence.
Y0L. XIII. LITITZ PA., FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 18, 1889. NO 7..
Bates of Advertising in the Record.
1 in 2 in 3 In. y* a 14 c. 1 coi
SO 90 1 ?f. 2 Î5 4 no 750
75 1 Sö 1 HO S 25 5 75 10 0<l
1 m 1 7a 2 5(1 4 25 7 50 12 50
1 •¿5 2 IÎ> B IK) 5 «5 9 95 15 0»
a «1 s 25 4 m 7 5(1 1S 25 2306
2 fil) 4 25 li (II) » 75 17 (Kl 31 Oï
3 50 6 25 9 50 15 00 28 00 54 3r
5 m 9 50 IS 75 26 00 50 00 «63
Yearly advertisements to be paid quarterly
Transient advertisements payable i a a d«
vance. 5
Advertisements,?® Insure immediate insei
tion, must be handed in, a t t h e very latest, hi
Wednesday evening.
Job Work of all kjnds neatly and promptly
executed at short noiiee.
All osmmunioations should be addressed to
RECORD OFFICE.
Lints, Lane. Co.. FEB.
Wo S I B u c h , the T a l lo
a n d G e n t s ' O u t f i t t e r.
C L O T H I N G - .
I offer everything in the way of Fall
and Winter Clothing and make a specialty of
SUITS TO ORDER,
having an endless variety ot piece goods to
select from. In the
Ready-made Department
you will find an elegant variety of Men's,
Youths' and Children's Clothing, made up
in good style, warranted as represented or
no sale. Prices will be found as low as
anywhere.
H A ^ S A N D C A P S .
We have the latest and nobbiest styles
in Fine Stiff and Soft Hats for men and
boys. Caps for wear a specialty. No old
styles.
The most comfortable and neatest
Shirt is the Tailor Made Flannel Shirt.
I have them in all colors, in various patterns,
at prices far below last year's prices and in
such pretty designs that they will sell.
White Shirts, laundried and unlaundried,
the latter from 35 cents up. Who'd think
of making a shirt when they can be bought
at these prices ?
'*.. Nothing adds so much to th<e appearance of a man
/ a neat Collar and Necktie. I lhave the correct styles
J . iasonable fall and winter shapes of fashionable
Scarf"s and Ties, in large variety to select from. These
cr0(K]s were made especially for me from silks of my
qWI1 CJ-ioice. In COLLARS and CUFFS I c a n s u p p l y y ou
in. linen, celluloid or paper, just as you prefer. In
styles it inust be funny if I cannot suit you.
'Sr m-
Would be pleased to nav« yOU call and see before going
elsewhere to purchase.
H . B U C H ,
R E C , F TTT
J R D " B L L L U M U '
S J E Ò O J ^ J J ^ L I T I T Z .
Do not neglect the graves of your dead.
THE M M f f l i MARBLE TURD
is again iully replenished with an ex-cellent
assortment of Tombstones
and Monuments for the Fall trnde.
Now is the most desirable season to
put up such work, and parties «n n e ed
of anything in our line, should ca\l a t
once and secure special bargains.
Prices greatly r e d i i A j e d.
S. P. * I LLER, Manager.
J ^ K B . M . S . HUJEBKNBR.
A F U L L L I N K OF
FANCY GOODS,
of every description.
LADIES a n d CHILDREN'S UNDERWEAR,
Woolen Stockings, Legsins, Mittens,
Knit Sacques a n d Caps,
SEASONABLE GLOVES
Ruehtcg, Silk Handkerchiefs, Cuffs, Collars,
Laces, &c.
CORSETS. CORSETS.
MADAM FOT WAIST, highly recommended
by physicians. Zephyrs, Saxony, Columbia
wool, Ac.
Agent for Dr. Scott's Celebrated ELECTRIC
COKSKTS, H A I R a n d TOOTH BRUSHES, IIAIH.
CURLERS, INSOLES, &C., AC.
STAMPING NEATLY AND PROMPTLY DONE.
M A I N S T . , L I T I T Z .
F a l l a n d W i q t e r , 1889.
Mrs. A. I . Shelly,
—AT THE—
•*Broai Street Millinery Stored
takes pleasure in announcing that she has
received a full line of Goods for Fall and
Winter Wear, in all t h e latest fashions.
Hats, Bonnets, Flowers, Feathers,
Fancy Goods, Notions, &c.
Call a n d see a n d obtain prices, which you
will find as low as anywhere.
STAMPING A SPECIALTY.
MRS. A. L. SHELLY,
nSOtf Broad Street, Lititz
THE RECORD OFFICE DOES EVERY
k i n d of printing, from a card to a large
poster, i n t h e neatest manner. Try us,
I
Oli A GATE POST.
A Large Lot of
Heating Stoves,
which I will positively close out
B E L O W C O S T
t o reduce m y big stock.
O I L O L O T H ,
2 yards wide, a t from 45 to 90 cents a yard;
Stovepipe and Stove Boards, Agate Ware,
Tubs and Buckets, Knives and Forks.
Roofing and Spouting, Plumbing, Steam
and Gas Fitting, Wood a n d I r o n Pumps.
Stoves p n t up a n d delivered iree of charge
All work guaranteed. Can eonapete l a price
with the lowest.
Come and see my stoek. No trouble to
show Goods.
J . A . M I K S C H,
MAIN STREET, L I R I T Z . P A
P e filò Lititz l i k i n g ani
CONFECTIONERY,
MAIN STREET, - - LITITZ, PA.
Fresh Bread, Cakes, Buns, Rolls, &c.,
daily. ;
Ice Cream, Fruits & Confectionery
furnished for picnics, parties, &c., at short
notice and at lowest rates.
I. F. BOMBERGER, Prop'r. 17my A
CHAPTER I.
Ambrose Nettleson has what he
thinks is a valuable manuscript. He
thinks so, doubtless, because it records
a part of his life. One night recently,
while I was at his home, he brought
out the manuscript and read it to me.
Although I did not ask- permission,
yet I do not feel that I violate his con-fidence
by giving, as nearly as I can
remember, the contents of the paper
which he treasured with' such affec-tion
: . -
The prospect was not cheerful. I
was riding a horse across a country
whose loneliness was as deep as a sigh
\vhich bespeaks the long absence of
some one. Night was coming on and
a storm was gathering its force. A
frightened owl flitted past me, scream-ing
in my face. The time of year was
when nature hesitates whether to con-tinue
autumn or begin winter. My
horse almost shook me off When he
stopped and shiyered. The owl
screamed in my face again. Dead
leaves, for a moment would whirl be-fore
me, and the fall, scattered and
torn as though they had, by an angry
hand, been swept from their long,
damp rest, only to be mocked. "What
a dreary, dreary place it is!" I mused.
"I feel- as though something terrible
is going to happen. The air, just be-fore
the great agitation which must
come, seems quivering in its desire to
bear the sound of murder, murder!
As I live, younder is light. It is
possible that I shall receive shelter ?"
Urging my horse forward, I soon
reached a small house, near the sum-mit
of a desolate peak, overlooking
the Arkansaw riyer. I dismounted
near the door—there was no fence
around the house. My horse looked
appealingly at me and without asking
permission from any one within, I led
the animal to a stable close at hand
and took off saddle and bridle. As I
was returning, the itorm burst upon
the river. When I approached the
door, I heard a wail. I knocked and
I heard the wail coming slowly toward,
me. The door was opened by a girl
scarcely more than twelve years old.
Her face was the picture of despair.
She said nothing, but pointed to a bed,
upon which lay an old man, gasping
for breath. Approaching him, I saw
that he had but a few minutes to live.
The girl knelt beside the old man.
He tried to put his hand upon her
head. Failing, he looked at me and
I assisted him. He tried to speak,
could not. The girl sobbed frantic-ally.
The rain poured down and the
storm shook the house.
" He will never get well !" she cried.
" My grandpa will die."
Yes, her grandpa would die. His
life had already passed away. The
hand lying on her head was growing
cold. She looked at hitn and shrieked.
What a night we spent in that
house. The storm howled and the rain
fell until nearly daylight. The girl,
who I saw was intelligent, with an
impressive face, said that her name
was Munette Loggemon, and that
since her earliest recollection she had
lived with the old man who had spent
most most of his time, since she had
begun to talk, in teaching her.
" I have no relatives," she said in
answer to a question.
" Any friends ?"
"No friends."
" You have neighbors ?"
" None. The nearest house is nearly
eight miles away."
I know not what to do. Surely the
situation was serious. Early at morn-ing,
we buried the old man in the
yard. As best I could, I made a
coffin of a trough which I found in
the stable. After the burial, I went
out and found enough corn for my
horse. I left Munette at the grave,
on which she had, sobbing bitterly,
thrown herself.
" Where are you going, little girl ?"
I asked when I returned, still finding
her on the grave.
" How can I go anywhere ?" she
asked. " I have no iriends, I iold
you."
" You cannot remain here."
" I cannot go away."
" I will not leave you here." You
must go with me. My mother has no
little girl. She will receive you."
Still lying on the grave, and with'
out looking up, she replied:
" I will go and work for my board."
'•You will not have to work. When
I tell my mother of the circumstances
under which I found you, she will
take you in her arms. Come, get
your clothes. It is time we were leav-ing
here. See, the sun is shining
beautifully. It is a new day for you."
Without replying, she arose and
turned toward me. Her face, even
aside from her grief, was so sad, and
her eyes wore a look of such tender
appeal that even though had she rela-tives
I would have thought it my
duty to take her home with me. She
went into the house and soon returned
with a small bundle.
" I haven't much to take," she said,
" Grandpa and I were very poor, and
you see, having inherited his poverty,
l am poorer than ever."
I was not surprised to hear her
make such a remark, lor I had dis-covered
that she never associated
with children and was consequently
wise of her age.
" You shall have some nice dresses
after a while," I replied.
" Pretty red ones ?"
The child was asserting itself.
" Yes, and blue ones."
She wept anew as we mounted the
horse—she seated behind me. As
long as we were in sight of the house
she said nothing, but when we had de-scended
into the thick woods, she said:
" I won't cry any more, if I can
help it."
" Your grandfather must have been
good to you ?"
" Yes, but he made me read many
books that were very dull—great law
books. I don't like them. His eyes
for many yeais have been so bad that
I had to do all his reading for him.
He wrote & book full of curious things
and murders, but one day when he
found me reading it, he took it away
from me and burned it up. It must
have been bad and he must have been
sorry that he wrote it. What is your
name ?"
I told her, and expressed my sur-prise
that she had not sooner asked
me.
It was your place to tell me with-out
my asking," she said. When I
told you my name, you should have
told me yours. Don't you see ?"
I acknowledged the justice of her
rebuke.
The day passed off rather pleasant-ly,
with the exception of the influence
of the night before, which naturally
enough she could not dispel and which
I could not keep from arising occasion-ally.
We sat on a log and ate dinner,
and Munette's remarks gave me addi-tional
insight into her close habit of
observation. When evening came, we
stopped at a farm house, where the
sad story of the little girl awoke such
sympathy that the kind-hearted house-wife
begged me to allow the child to
remain with her.
" It is a question that she must de-cide,"
I rejoined. " What do you say,
Munette?"
" I am surprised that you should
ask me such a question," she replied,
approaching tbe chair where I sat and
taking my hand. " Would it not be
ungrateful in me to desert you so soon,
or to ever desert you ?"
" She's got more sense than an old
woman right now," said the host, ad-dressing
his wife. " Our twenty-eight
year old daughter that married last
month ain't a patchin' to this girl."
" W'y, Jesperson," said his wife, in
mild censure, " Margaret ain't twenty-eight
years old."
" She's mighty high it."
" An' besides that," continued the
woman, " she never had a chance."
'' Didn't go to school three months
outen nearly every year, eh ?'' What
show does a gal want, I'd like to
know ? This little creetur, I warrant
you never has been to school."
"Oh, yes sir. My whole life has
been a school. The old house where
I used to live contained many books.
If you want them you may go there
and get them. I shall never go after
them. I could never read them
again."
"Well blast my buttons if I don't
mcsy up that way. I ain't much ox a
scholar, but I recken I can worry
through with a lot of them."
CHAPTER II.
My mother welcomed Munetta, and
when I related the sad story of how I
found her, the sympathetic woman
took the child iff her arms and kissed
her. A few days afterwards when I
returned home after a short absence,
she flashed upon me in a gay red
dress. She was more of a child than
I had ever seen—more so than I had
thought it possible for her to become.
My mother was delighted to see her
innocent pranks, and I, for the first
time, kissed the child.
" You have kissed me at last," she
said. " It is because 1 look better in
this dress ?"
" It is because you look more like a
child. Before, you reminded me so
much of a woman."
" Do not women like to be kissed?"
" I laughed and my mother, shak-ing
her head—I can see her gray hairs
now—said: " Ah, Ambrose, our
young girl has a very old head."
We sent Munette to school. The
teacher, a man who had the reputa-tion
of being profound, met me one
day and said:
"Look here, Munette is the most
remarkable child I ever saw. She
has read so many books and makes
use of such wise observations that I am
constantly surprised. To tell you the
truth, I cannot advance her. Not
that I am not intellectually able—
ahem—but er—because I do not think
that at her age it would be safe.
Therefore I would advise you to take
her irom school. I know the effect
that too much learning has on youth.
I know how narrowly I escaped."
When I spoke to Munette, she said,
" that school is a very dull place. It
is a constant hum of arithmetic. I
don't like to cipher, as the children
call it. Fractions make my head
ache and miscellaneous examples
make me sick. Let me study at home."
I took her from school. She was
a devoted student, but was never so
absorbed that she was oblivious to the
little attentions which a woman of
my mother's age prizes so highly.
Munette grew rapidly and I was
pleased to see that she was daily be-coming
more graceful.
CHAPTER III.
The war came on. How natural it
is, in writing a story, to say "the war
came on; but this is not a story,and
nothing can be more natural than
truth—although it is said to be strang-er
than fiction. Therefore, when I
say that the war came on, I intend
that the declaration should have its
full meaning. I left home full of
pride. I was a captain. My mother,
prayed ; but Munette did not seem to
be affected. "Goodbye," she said.
" War is one of the incidents of civil-ization,
as well as a feature of barbar-ity.
I know that you will do your
duty, and that you will not forget the
little girl whom you once saw sob-bing
under the hand of a dying man.
When you return, I shall be old
enough to kiss you."
I looked at her in astonishment.
Merriment sparkled in her eyes.
"You don't like to kiss children,it
seems."
" Munette, you are strange. I once
said that I did not kiss yon because
you looked like a woman."
" Oh, yes, that is true. I thought
that you did not want to kiss me be-cause
I was so small. There now,
captain, don't swell up like a toad."
I turned away. She called me,
when I was about a hundred yards
away and said : " When you pass the
big gate, look on the right hand post,"
I did so and found the words, " I
love you." Under this I wrote, " and
I love you."
I did not receive but one letter from
Munette, and that might just as well
have been written by a professor of
geology, for its four pages were de-voted
to a description of a lot of peb-bles
she had found in a cave.
I returned home ragged and ill.
Munette was delighted to see me.
She was so peculiar, though, that I
could not tell whether or not she still
loved me. It seemed that she did not,
for whenever I attempted to remind
her of it, she changed the subject.
Like all true lovers, I felt that with-out
her my life would be a blank. I
spoke to my mother concerning my
trouble.
" She is a very strange girl, but I
always found her frank except when I
asked her if she loved you, and she
replied that the hawks had carried off
three of the dominicker hen's chick-ens."
One day in passing the big gate, I
wrote on tbe post the following :
" Will you marry me ?"
Two days afterward I visited the
place and found the word " yes."
Without further communication,
except to appoint the time by " post,"
we were married.
I did not find her disposition to be
peculiar, only in the intensity of her
love for me. " Why did you treat me
so ?" I one day asked her.
" The dominicker has a great deal
of trouble with his chickens," she
replied. Shortly afterwards, when
she thought that I was not looking,
she threw back her head and laughed.
Finger Nail Fancies.
A white mark on the nail bespeaks
misfortune.
Broad nails indicate a gentle, timid
and bashful nature.
People with narrow nails are am-bitious
and quarrelsome.
Small nails indicate li ttleness of
mind, obstinacy and conceit.
Choleric, martial men, delighting
in war, have red spotted nails.
Nails growing into the flesh at s the
points or sides indicate luxurious
tastes. '
ST. ELMO HOTEL, .Nos. 317 a n d 319
A.rch street, Philadelphia.—Bates re-duced
to $2 per day. The traveling
public will still find at this hotel tne
same liberal provision for their come-fort.
It is located in the immediate
centre of business, and places of amus-mentand
the different railroad depots,
as well as all parts of the city, are
easily accessible by street cars con-stantly
passing the doors. It oflers
special inducements to those visiting
the city for business or pleasure. Your
patronage is respectfully solicted.
JOSEPH M. FEGER,
oc71y- Propr
What Not to Bay.
In this world of frills and frivols
there are some things that had better
be left unbought, and here are a few:
Either green or red gloves; do not
permit yourself to be tempted by any
smooth-tongued salesman into believ-ing
that anybody wears them—they
don't!
Bustles: they were always bad
form, and now they are recognized as
not only being out of the line of
beauty, but in extremely bad style.
Very short skirts for the house:
they are awkward, and belittle you
from a mental as well as a physical
standpoint. Keep a pretty tea-gown
with a bit of train.
Yellow storm-coats: Choose instead
very dark blue ones.
Umbrellas with handles that look
as if the silver of the family had been
put into the pot and boiled down for
this purpose: They are worse than a
green postage-stamp as far as giving
the looker-on a cachet as to your good
taste.
Colored letter paper: It died in the
same year with hoopskirts.
Rhinestone jewely: It should never
be worn in the daytime, and people
will think you are trying to pass it off
for diamonds if you try to wear it at
night.
Ear-rings: A beautiful ear looks
better without them, and an ugly one
should not have attention drawn to
it by them.
Each and every one of these is as
much to be abhorred as the oft-quoted
scarlet woman, but this season, if
the scarlet woman isn't very preva-lent,
it will be because the dye has
given out and she cannot paint her
frock red. ,
She talks about healthful tones, and
you know, as a man, that red was
never offensive to anybody except a
bull, and in view of this, you will
have to bear it; and you will, like the
noWe-hearted American citizen that
you are, bear it, and even squeeze it—
if the woman is fetching enough.
Sand for a Balky Horse.
" What are we stopping for?" said
the lady. " Balky horse on the track,"
answered the gentleman. " He won't
move for whipping or petting or whis-pers
in the ear or—anything." " Did
I eyer tell you," she asked, " about
my experience with a balky horse ?
No! Well, it was out on the Color-ado
Plains. The most elegant young
eligible of our set had invited me to
take a ride behind his high-spirited
fine-blooded horse. I got myself up to
do justice to the occasion. All went
delightfully till when we were on the
open plain outside Denver, that val-uable
animal concluded to pause in
his rapid motion and meditate. My
escort shook the reins, clucked persua-sively,
remonstrated encouragingly,
gave a touch with the whip, at which
the horse reared and kicked viciously,
but still we were stationary out on
that lonely sandy level. My elegant
escort grew red in the face with
mortification and clinched his teeth so
as not to let slip any regrettable words.
'If you will allow me to get out I could
start him,' he said. ' Oh, by no means,
I rejoined. 'I could never hold him.
Let me get out and try putting
sand in his mouth. I've been told
that worked like a charm.' And so
it did. I clamered out of the buggy,
grabbed a good fi8t full of sand, open-ed
the jaws of the horse and threw it
in. The astonished horse tore off like
a flash, and as I stood alone, five
miles from home in that solitary place
and watched the maddened horse, the
powerless driver and the black buggy
grow a mere dot in the distance, I de
cided the experiment had been a per-fect
success as far as starting the horse
was concerned."
Wit and Humor.
The man who is right is seldom left.
Some strong holes—Safe deposit
vaults.
Viitue is its own reward, and no
questions asked.
A man must be pretty sick of work
when he throws up his job.
In poultry circles the old hen gener-ally
proves her good standing by her
setting.
One of the interesting experiments
in popular chemistry is when a youth
feeds his first flame with ice cream.
Men who invariably live on tick—
Watchmakers.
Berry pickers get what they can
and can what they get.
The good die young. This is par-ticularly
true of the chickens.
What proverb best pleases a hatter ?
—Two heads are better than one.
What is that which you cannot see
although it is always before you?—
Your future.
The grave digger is always finding
himself in a hole in the pursuit of his
occupation.
Employer to clerk—Don't know the
man's address ? Well, write to him
and find out.
The bad small boy, when his mother
calls, is like the echo. He answers,
but he doesn't come.
Yes, Julius, the health lift is a good
thing, but don't look for it in the
vicinity of a mule's heels.
Love is blind, which probably ac-counts
for the spectacles some young
lovers make of themselves.
One of the most dangerous and de-moralizing
of all drinks is the bever
age that is known as " same."
It is better to lock the stable after
the horse is stolen than not to lock at
all. It may save the cow.
If you happen to see a small boy
chasing a bumble bee you will know
when he yells that he has caught it.
Mrs. Jones—Don't trouble to see
me to the door, Mrs. Smith. No
trouble—quite a pleasure, I assure
you!
Dobbs—Did the old gentleman
leave much when he died ? Bobbs—
He left the earth. What more could
I expect?
The man who is in the habit of try-ing
to get to the bottom of things
should beware of falling overboard in
mid ocean.
A countryman, on being charged
by a rampagious bull, held his wife
firmly in front, saying—Stand steady,
Maria ; he can't toss both of us !
Seedy looking individual, approach-ing
busy merchant—Will you be kind
enough, sir, to give a poor fellow a
lift? Merchant—Certainly! James,
show the gentleman to the elevator.
OWEN V. BRICKEB, E s q . , attorney
at-law, is in town every Saturday and
Monday morningand can be consulted
on all legal business. Lancaster office
48 North Duke street.
Dish Washing.
The great trouble of life in domestic
matters has always been dish-washing.
Nobody likes to wash dishes. Many
pleasant camping parties have broken
up simply because some one had to
wash the dishes. If it were not for
dish washing this life would be a hap-py
one. Hardly anybody objects to
cooking, but even the most slovenly
servant girl djslikes to wash dishes.
Mrs. Cochran,of Shelby ville, 111, has
invented a dish-washing machine. If
this machine is a success one of
the great evils of domestic life is
done away with. If the machine is not
a success it may be suggested that dur-ing
the summer people should do with-out
dishes altogether. That is to say,
they should have their meals served
on those cheap little wooden dishes,
such as grocers use to put butter on.
The forests of America are inex-haustible,
and machinery turns those
little dishes out by the million.
They could be made of different
sizes and forms and could all be made
very cheaply, so that a simple dinner
could be set out on a set of dishes that
would cost only a cent or two. Then,
after the dinner was over these dishes
could be used for kindling wood for
the next fire. The grease on them
would help conflagration, and taking
it all in all, it would be a very great
boon to the camper out and to the
over-worked seryant girl. However,
we may wait to see whether Mrs. Coch-ran's
dish-washing machine will do all
that is claimed for it. If it does not
do that, we shall have to get Mr.
Edison to invent a dish-washing ma-chine,
or we shall have to turn to the
wooden platter in order to avoid dish-washing.
A Cure for Insomnia.
There is a young woman in Brook-lyn
who is robust, perfectly healthy
and full of spirit, but for several
months has been troubled with insom-nia.
Try with all her power, with her
mind fixed on it, she has been unable
to sleep, at least to any extent; She
consulted all the old women in the
neighborhood, taken the advice of
each one, and followed it carefully
and with patience, but could not find
relief. She has taken all the soporif-ics
of the native pharmacopoeia with-out
stint; eaten crackers in bed; count
ed thousands upon thousands; fixed
her mind upon some subject intently,
and kept it there, but with no avail
She would not report to drugs, but
tried walking to tire herself until she
got a reputation of a pedestrian, and
her cheeks were as red, her form as
perfect and her muscle as well develop-ed
as that of an active member of the
New York Athletic Club.
Recently there came to work in the
family a Swedish woman, who, hearing
of the young woman's trouble, told her
of apractice of the people in her coun
try who are similarly afflicted. It
was to take a napkin, dip it in ice cold
water, wring it slightly and lay it
across her eyes. The plan was follow-ed,
and it worked like a charm. The
first night the girl slept four houia
without awaking, something she had
not done before for several months
At the end of that the napkin had be
come dry. By wetting it again she at
once went to sleep, and it required
considerable force to rouse her in the
morning.
Fortune for Them.
Jacob Heigler left his home in
Bird-in-Hand, Lancaster county, over
60years ago and went to California.
For forty years nothing was heard
of him. In 1869 he came east and
called at the house of Miss Jane
Bierly and introduced himself as
Uncle Jake, He then went west
again. In all this time of 60 years
the Lancaster Heigler's became Heid-ler.
Old man Heigler died in South
California worth $900,000. He had
never been married and left no heirs
in California where all his estate is
located.
The nearest living kinspeople of
Jacob Heigler, the dead California
bachelor, are Levi Heidler, of Colum-bia,
Mrs. Nancy Johnson, of Marietta
and Wm Heidler, of Centrajia, 111.
All of these people are well advanced
in years. Mrs. Johnson is perhaps the
only living relative who has any
distinct recollection of old Jacob
Heigler's visit to his former home in
1869. The other kinspeople, le?s
than 20 in number, all reside in Lan-caster
County, with the exeption of
Mrs. Wilmot, of Washington.
Among the heirs, if the claim of evi-dence
and relationship is sustained,
are H. H. Heise, B. F. Heise and
Salinda Heise, of Columbia; Leyi
Heidler of Columbia, and Mrs. John-son
of near Bird-in-Hand. Harry
H. Heidler of Columbia, and Wm.
Heidler of Chestnut Hill, are also
among the list of giand nephews of
the old California». There are three
of the Heidler family who will be
benefited by the fortune. A family
named Hoover residing in Lancaster
city is mentioned as being among the
the heirs. There are a number of
persons named Heise and Heidler re-siding
in York county, Pa., although
it is claimed that they are not relatives
of the Heigler whose money is now the
point of issue.
State Items.
The pipe mill of the Reading Iron
Company, which shut down at the time
of the late assignment, has started up
with a full force of hands.
Peter Lannigan, a resident of
Bridgeport, who was struck by the
Pottsville Express while walking on
the tracks Saturday night, died the
following day.
The Grand Commandery of Amer-ica
of the Order of Knights of Malta
held a session in Wilkesbarre last
night. Over one hundred delegates
were in attendance.
Mary Tarpey, of Easton, was struck
by a Lehigh Valley passenger train,
at Glendon, Sunday night, and her
right leg was cut off above the ankle.
She was taken to St. Luke's Hospital.
Frank Dillman, son of John Dill-man,
wno was hanged at Easton sever-al
years ago for murdering his wife,
been arrested for feloniously as-saulting
Mary Jane Anthony. He
is 16 years old and she is 18.
The Chronic Borrower.
A woman who is always " just out"
of the small wares of the kitchen is a
nuisance to the community. She
will run in on you at any and all hours,
and want to borrow just a little sugar,
or spice, till she can send to the gro-cer's.
She really did not know she was
anywhere near out, till she was about
cooking, and then she found she had
not a dust of sugar in the house,
and not a soul around anywhere to
send for it. And she will tell you
that she does so hate to trouble you ;
for if there is anything on earth she
dislikes to do it is to borrow—and she
never does it when she can help it;
but now her piecrust is all on the
plaets, and she was obliged to, because
she could not spare time to run to the
grocer's. And shb will sit down in
your kitchen half an hour, and talk
about everybody in town ; and, mean-while,
she will take an account of every
thing her eyes fall on, and collect
capital for endless gossip as to your
habits and methods.
When the borrower returns what
she borrows it is always in a little
smaller measure, if, indeed, she returns
it at all. And you may congratulate
yourself if you get half what belongs
to you. A regular borrower will bor-row
everything, from a piece of salt-fish
for breakfast down to your boy if
you have one.
The book borrower is even a greater
nuisance than the woman who borrows
household supplies. She never hesi-tates
to ask for the choicest and cost-liest
books in your house. And she
seems to think she confers a favor on
you by so asking. And it you are
foolish enough to lend, the possibility
is that you have to go after the books
in question, and will find on doing so
that she has lent them to some friend
of hers, who wanted to read them,
and she will tell you that she knew
you would be willing—for you are so
good natured. Never have a borrow-er
for a neighbor—if you can help it.