Lititz Record

              Published Eyery Friday Morning by
J. FRANK BUCH.
OFFICE—On Broad street, Lititz,
Lancaster County, Fa*
IISRMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.—F o r o n e y e ar
fl.0o, if paid in advance, a n d 81.25 If payment
is delayed to t h e end of year.
For six months, 50 cents, and for three
months, 25 cents, strictly in advance.
JSS-A failure t o n o t i f y a discontinuance at
t h e end of the t e rm subscribed for, will be
considered a wish t o continue t h e paper.
W A n y person sending us five new cash
subscribers for one year will be entitled to
the RECORD for o n e year, for h i s trouble. VOL. XV LITITZ, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 22,1892. NO 37.
Bates of Advertising in the Record,
1 in 2 in 3 in. « c. « c.
(50 SO 1 25 ií ?5 4 00
75 I 1 m Ä ï>5 5 75
1 00 1 75 2 50 4 ?5 7 50
t 25 2 15 Ü 00 5 «5 9 25
a (HI S 25 4 50 7 50 13 ?5
a 50 4 25 fi no 9 75 17 00
•s 50 « aî S fifi 15 m 98 00
b 00 9 50 13 75 26 00 50 00
7 50
10 00
12 50
15 0" 23»
31 OH 54 3f
yen
Yearly advertisements to be paid q-aarterla
Transient advertisements payable in ad.
vance.
Advertisements, fe> i n s u r e immediate insei
tion, must be handed in, a t t h e very latest, bg
Wednesday evening.
Job Work of all k inds n e a t l y a n d promptly executed at short noiiee.
All communications should be addressed to
RECORD OFFICE.
U t i l e . Lane. Co.. Pa.
Spring has come
There is not one person who is not
thinking of purchasing a Spring Suit
or changing his garments ; but the main
question at issue is where to buy, or
where to go. This question can easily be
answered after having once patronized
me, because the prices you pay are far
below many others, while no goods are
misrepresented. Honest and fair
dealing and low prices is my way of
doing business.
In Custom Made Clothing
I believe I am able to show as fine a line
of suitings as has ever been in this town,
at prices that prove for themselves to
be the right thing.
4ln Ready Made Suits**
my line is far superior to any season
heretofore. All-wool Cheviot Suits for
Men at $11.00 and up; Boys' from
$4-25 up; Children's Suits from $1.75
up.
In Men's Furnishing Goods
my line is complete, while in Hats the
line is magnificent in both Stiff and
Slouch, in all styles.
"Record" Building, Broad Street,
L I T I T Z , P C N N A.
GLASE & LICHTENTHAELER,
SUCCESSORS TO H . A . H O F F & SON, -
4 0 5 P < 9 0 S t r e e t , - - - R € A D I N 6 , P A.
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
Carpets,rugs,Linoleums
OIL CLOTHS,
P e n i i l e and \ m Captains, Window Shades, &e. 16.
PRING HATS.
S P E I 1 T G - - K - A - T S .
H. L. BOAS,
LINE OF
SPRING STYLES
R E A D Y F OR
YOUR INSPECTION.
HELEN OF TROY:
144 NORTH QÜEIH STREET,
N E W T . W I N G E R T , M A N A G ER
LANCASTER PA
JJEADQUARTEHS FOR
S t o r e s , N c a t ç r S , |
K
Store,
AND RANGES,
—AT—
MAIN ST., LITITZ.
I have in stock six leading styles ol Ranges
among them the m<>st improved Double
Heater and Range combined a most excel-lent
thing. Also five kinds of Heating
stoves.
II FLOOR OIL CLOTH, n
Shown from a rack in the roll without
t a k i n g down and thrown before your eyes
in many patterns and sizes a t one time.
Never better prepared to show stock than
now. Please call a n d see, whether you want
to buy or not.
All kinds of Houseiurnishing Goods, Tin-ware,
a n d I still continue to put up STEAM
H E A T I N G WOKK, G A S F I T T I N G , ROOFING a n d
SPOUTING, &C.
W . M. W E I T Z E L . |
25sep91 1
ïWtChnoroep»in Cgo Cldo«u,&Cho,u Brlirso, nEc»hri»tiT«h arn«d£ tA,Csrthomspa,I,a fAlse cBerjtsu,l a ••dnvr*Q inns eCdo sntsaugmesp.t ioUns e1 ba ft lornrctes .t «Ygeoflu, wanidll as asaer eth reel ieexf -ia cfeeltllellnlt tewffjevckte ar*ft.e r& ttragk«ibn«gtu tehi,e s foir gsetn dtio esned. (1S.0o0ld. by
IT WAS April weather, with dashes
of glittering rain and glimpses of
sun and fragments of broken rain-bow
floating against the misty hills of
southern Missouri.
Late in t i e afternoon" the sun was
almost blinding as it fell on the rain-swept
grass, each leaf blade quivering
with jewels. The budding trees were
brilliant, and overhead the deep blue
skies were made more splendid by the
floating masses of silvery clouds.
" Lawks me, honey, how yer scart
yer ole aunty. An' whar ye dun bin
to, chile, gittin' yer skirts lis' soppin'
wet in dis yere rain ? I think Ise guine
tel Mis' Jane on yo'!''
Two figures were confronting each
other in the narrow foot-path, one a
broad-waisted, good-natured old
darkey, the other a slim young white
girl holding up a dark blue riding
habit above the dripping grass.
" See here, aunty !" she Jield up a
bunch t.f fragrant violets and starry
anemones. " The first of the season.
I got tired of riding old Tom and sent
him home by the road while I scram-bled
through the woods to get these
darlings."
Her own face was like an anemone
with its wildwood beauty. She made
a pretty pictuie standing there, the
bronze hair escaping from beneath the
close-fitting cap, the violet eyes lifted
shyly.
" Dey's berry sweet, Mis' Helen,
berry sweet, but I'se afeard, honey.dat
am not de gospel truf. It's dat young
law fellah yuse done met clahdestly.
Dis old niggab, honey, am got sharp
eyes, and I tink, Mis' Helen, it am by
bounden duty ta tell yer ma."
A deep flush suddenly crimsoned
the face of the fair young girl, which
condemned her. For a moment she
was silent and then her arms were
thrown impulsively around the old
woman's neck. Old Deborah had^been
her nurse when a baby and a champion
all her life. Surely she would not
desert her now.
" You won't tell mamma, will you?"
Who could resist those arms, tender
and clinging; those loving eyes, so
sweet and entreating, looking just now
like the April skies, darkly blue, with
the rain and sunshine mingling. Aunt
Deborah had yielded to them many a
time before. She was not proof against
them now.
" Lawks me, honey, ye know I
couldn't. Yer ma don't like dat law
fellah ; but old Deb hain't a-guine to
raise no objection ef he's de one yer
affections am sot on. Don't cry now,
honey; don't cry no mo'."
The tender-hearted old creature
wiped away a few tears from her own
eyes on her gingham apron, and then
they walked back together to the com-fortable
white farmhouse possessing
something of stateliness from its fine
situation on the crest of a hill, Deborah
not forgetting to scold on the way
about Helen's drabbled skirts and the
cough she was sure would follow.
" Don't worry, and Deb you know it
won't hurt me," cried Helen, smiling
gayly as she slipped through the back
hall and stairway up to her room.
She came down presently looking as
iresh and demure as a rosebud in a
pretty gown of some light-colored stuff
made in the empire style with a broad
sash that made her look like a grown-up
baby.
She entered the sitting room, and
picking up her embroidery worked in-dustriously
until nearly dusk, when
her stepmother left the room to prepare
tea. Then she laid the work aside,
and let the thoughts which had run
riot in her brain all the afternoon have
full sway.
He loved her, this brilliant young
lawyer from New York. Again she
recalled her quickly spoken words.
Again the hot blood surged into her
cheeks at the remembrance of his
kisses, passionate and tender.
He loved her. He had called her
his Anemone. He had sworn life was
not worth living without her.
How the love song throbbed in her
heart. But to-morrow! To-morrow
he was going away. A strange fear
mingled itself with her mad joy
That night she stood in the moon-light
intoxicated with love, for her
head was against his breast, his warm
breath upon her cheeks. He kissed
the tears from her violet eyes.
" My darling Anemone, remember
how I love you. Be not sad. In
little while you will be mine. I love
you, my beautiful Helen of Troy, as I
love my life."
The solemn sweetness of the night
was about them ; the pale moon and
the silver-tipped clouds seemed to
register his vows.
But it was only a hurried, stolen
meeting. A few moments later she
saw him riding toward town, and she
hastened to her room there to live
again in the silence those delirious mo-ments
of joy.
And life after that took on a strange,
new sweetness, because of his love.
The bees and the birds and the
blossoms all whispered it, and the
spring-tide came with a burst of glory
such as her young heart had never
dreamed of before.
»i» >f ^ »f*
I t was midsummer. The roads were
hot and dusty, the hillsides yellow with
waving grain. In the still, dark woods
the soft winds swept cool and refresh-ing.
But, under the shadow of a kingly
sycamore a girl was lying, deaf to all
the music and gentle wooing of the
summer. Long, long she had lain
there, silent, motionless, the only signs
of life a sob now or then that seemed
almost to rend the quivering form.
A broad-brimmed hat was thrown
upon the ground beside her. The
brown hair covered the face, taking in
the hues of the sun as the light fell
flickering thorough the leaves. One
dimpled hand was thrown out on the
grass crushing a letter in its relentless
grasp.
Patiently old Carlo sat beside her,
his brown eyes fixed wonderingly upon
her, his tail wagging sorrowfully now
and then as though in mute sympathy
with her grief, whatever it might be.
She had been still so long that he
began to think she had fallen asleep
and was about to stretch himself on the
grass, when suddenly she sat up and
looked around. Seeing Carlo so
patient and loving, she threw her head
against his faithful breast, and for the
first time the tears came hot and heavy
to her eyelids. Her pale face against
his shaggy neck looked like a rain
drenched anemone now, its delicate
features wet with tears.
" It's very hard, Carlo," she said, "I
can never be happy any more."
Again that terrible despair crept
over her. She shivered as though the
winds were of December instead of
summer.
Taking up the letter she had drop
ped she smoothed out the rumpled
paper and read it once more with blur-red
vision.
Every one of those cruel words seem
e i graven upon her aching heart. It
was from her cousin in New York, and
he spoke of Clarence Reed, the man
who had aroused all the slumbering
passion of her deep and tender nature.
" Mr. Reed who took all of your
village beauties by storm last winter,
is engaged to one of our New York
heiresses. It is rumored he will soon
be married. I have no liking for a
man of his calibre, a mere flirt. He
boasts openly of his conquests all over
the country, and especially of one he
made in Missouri—'a silly little girl,'
he told one of my friends, 'with a
pretty face, but—well, you know, a
simple little creature, with more beauty
than brains.' I can't tell, of course,
Helen, to which particular one he re-ferred,
but you can settle that among
yourselves."
No wonder thai he had never written
to her! And how she had trusted I
A sudden waye of anger swept over
her, driving away for a moment the
keen agony.
She took the letter and tore it into
a thousand fragments, scattering them
to the winds. Her violet eyes glowed
almost black beneath their dark
lashes.
" Come, Carlo," she said, rising, "we
will go now." Her anemone face had
lost its childlike trust and fairness. It
was cold and hard, and there was a
stern look around the curving, dimpled
mouth. This sudden blow had changed'
her from a tender, flower-like girl into
a cold and resolute woman.
That night when old Aunt Deborah
went to prepare her darling for bed, as
had been her wont always, she found a
silent, sorrowful woman she had nursed
and cherished and worshipped.
" Pears to me, honey," she said after
awhile when the girl was robed in her
white gown, looking like some pure
preistess, " pears to me, honey, some-thing
du ail yo'. Yo' ain't so peart-like—
an' ye jes make yer ole aunty
feel all gone-like when she looks at
yo'." .
" Oh, aunty, aunty, my heart is
broken—my heart is broken !" With
the uld girlish impulsiveness the girl
threw her arms around aunt Deborah's
neck and sobbed out her grief.
" Bress the chile—bress the chile,
what am de matter?" cried old Deborah
cradling the girl in her strong arms as
if she had been a baby. " Jes tell yer
ole aunty what dun ale yo'."
With many heart broken sobs the
girl poured out her grief into the ears
of this loving faithful old friend.
When she was through aunt De-borah
held h^r closer striving with all
her great self-sacrificing love to ease
the pain of the tender, stricken young
heart.
" Dis world am a heap ob trouble^-
dis world am a heap of trouble, honey
but I tell yo' de Lord Jesus kin help
yo, when de rest ob de world fail. Go
to him chile, go to him chile, and let
yer ole aunty, who jes lub de bery bref
ob yo', jes' whisper dis word ob conso-lation—
dere's jes' as good fish in de
sea as ebber were caught. De right
one am sure to be a-nibbling some day.
Say yer prayers, right now honey, to
de Lord Jesus, and jes' trust in him,
and as sartin as de wool grows on dis
ole niggah's head, it'll all come out
right."
In spite of her heart-break Helen
could not help smiling at aunt De-borah
s quaint reasoning. After all
was it not wisdom ?
" Jes' go 'long, chile, and go to sleep.
Yo'll git eben wid dat rascal one ob
dese days. De Lord will confound
him."
I t was the strongest denunciation
Helen had ever heard the good-natured
soul make.
" May de Lord bless yo' and make
yo' happy. And he's a-guine to honey,
he's a-guine to."
I t was aunt Deb's benediction as she
parted with her darling for the night.
Somehow the girl felt better for it,
simple as it was, and after Deborah
had gone away she knelt down in the
moonlight and poured out heart unto
one who is " altogether lovely," the
divine love sweeping all bitterness from
her soul.
Then she arose, and taking a letter
from her writing-desk answered it.
I t was an offer of marriage from one
of her old schoolmates and friends in
the neighborhood. He was not hand-some
and brilliant like Clarence Reed,
neither could she love him with the
mad worship she had giyen this first
lover. But be was good and kind,
and he had loved her from her child,
hood.
What more could she desire in this
world of blanks ? Her bruised young
heart longed to lean upon something.
* * >(; * *
Another summer had come and gone,
and strange things had happened to
the country-bred beauty. The lead
mines which her husband had been
working had suddenly developed and
yielded him a fortune.
They had traveled in Europe, and
bought a handsome home in the Cres-cent
city. Helen had a French maid,
one she had secured while in Paris,
but she still loved Aunt Deborah with
a warm affection, and wherever she
went the faithful old creature followed
her, though she did '"low sometimes it
made her ole bones ache to be travel-ing
'round de country like a young
hoss."
" An' lawks me," she used to say, "I
declare to goodness, Mis' Helen, ef dis
yere French gal ye brung ober knows
ernuff to go in when it rains."
The polish Helen had gained added
greatly to her beauty, and she was a
reigning queen in the high circle in
which she moved. Her violet eyes
and dazzling skin was in striking con-trast
with the dark beauty of the
Southern belles—so beautifully was
she that some reporter having aptly
doscribed her as a modernized Helen"
of Troy, the name clung to her among
her friends.
She was fairly happy and enjoyed
her position and wealth, though now
and then the great love which had been
the breath of her swept over her and
could not be overcome save with heart-ache
and tear. Aunt Deb was her on-ly
solace at such moments, but even
before this good old soul there were
times when her pride kept her silent.
At the opening ball of the Mardi
Gras at the French opera house she
was declared by many to be the most
beautiful woman, though scores ot
beauties from the noblest of the old
French families were there, arrayed in
a magnificence of costume which is sel-dom
equaled. Strangers turned around
to look at the dazzling fairness of her
throat which was whiter than the rare
pearls whicli encircled it, and they
turned again to see the gold of her
bronzed hair and the violet splendor
of her eyes which made them forget
the exquisite beauty of her pearl-em-broidered
gown and the perfumed
flowers of gold on her silken girdle.
She was very beautiful, was this
modern Helen of Troy, and wherever
•he moved an admiring circle followed
her.
She was seated in one of the stalls
upstairs looking at the dancers below
when the door of the box opened and
a young man entered.
She dropped the fan she held, and
her face grew rigid. No wonder she
was startled. The face and form she
had not beheld, saye in her dreams,
for two years.
But in a moment she was again the
self-possessed woman of society. She
held out her hand, calmly allowing
him to take it, never betraying by a
tremor the violent throbbing of her
heart.
Somehow a little later she found her-self
promenading alone with him, th s
man for whom her young heart had
suffered pain unutterable. As in a
dream she heard his words :
" My beautiful Helen of Troy, how
cruel you were to me ; all of my letters
unanswered, my love thrown away ?"
She placed her hand to her brow.
As in a flash the truth came to her
Her step-mother had intercepted the
letters. This was true. Aunt Deborah
had hinted it, but she had scorned the
accusation, though she knew her
mother's violent dislike to Clarence
Reed. But how could she doubt this
man now, his soul within his eyes?
" But the heiress," she murmured,
keeping her face turned from him.
" I was never engaged to her," he
answered quietly. " I t was a rumor
fabricated by one of my enemies who
strove to make me out a flirt."
His explanation was honorable and
manly. All doubt in his honor was
gone, but his explanation was followed
by one from her which caused the light
to fade from his face.
" Married!" he gasped, his fact
whiter than her own.
" Yes," she said calmly, though a
death knell seemed ringing in her ears,
"there is my husband," inclining her
head toward a man who stood among
a little group, looking strangely insig-nificant
beside this handsome, princely-looking
man at her side.
For a moment he stood still as though
transfixed with pain, and then, without
hesitation, he led her to her husband.
After being presented formally he bade
them a quiet adieu.
And no one seeing these three part-ing
so quietly would have dreamed of
the tragedy enacted in two of those
hearts.
" I am tired," she said wearily-turn-ing
to her husband, " let us go."
For a long- time afterward it was
noticed that this modern Helen of
Troy drooped, and there were deep
shadows under her violet eyes. It was
whispered by some that she was not
happy.
But she was a true woman, and she
was faithful to the vows she had
sworn.
They were less hard to keep when a
few years afterward news reached here
that Clarence Reed had died on ship-board—
on his way to China.
" De Lord giveth and de Lord
taketh away," Deborah said, pressing
the slim hand of her young mistress in
mute sympathy. " Some day he's
a-guine to straighten out his web—an'
den, honey—den, my blessed honey,
yo'll see dat tings alius happen fo' de
best, eben in dis topsey-turyey world,
whar satan dun seems to be on de top
of de heap. Praise de Lord, chile, dat
hefdun took temptation outen yer way,
praise de Lord!"
W h a t W e W a n t.
Men who push their own business.
Men who will rejoice to see their town
more rich and happy. Men who will
do something besides croak. Men who
will not tell a stranger that he is a fool
to come here. Men who will invest in
home property and home enterprises.
Men who love their town unselfishly,
as they love their country. Men who
believe in their own town, and who can
see its good points. Public benefactors
who will aid churches, libraries, &c.
Men who will patronize home enter-prises
and buy goods of home manu-facture.
Well balanced men with the
zeal and enthusiasm of boomers. Men
who are bound to keep in the swim,
and whose loye of progress extends to
their pocketbooks.
A Lawyer's Scruples.
The late Robert Toombs, of Georgia,
had a large practice at the bar, but he
always showed that he was more con-cerned
for the honor of his profession
than for its rewards.
On one occasion he said to a client
who had stated his case to him, " Yes,
you can recover in this suit, but you
ought not to do so. This is a case in
which law ai-d justice are on opposite
sides."
The client told him he would push
the case anyhow.
" Then," replied Mr. Toombs, " you
must hire some one else to assist you
in your rascality."
At another time a lawyer went to
him and asked what he should charge
a client in a case to which Mr. Toombs
had just listened in the court-house.
" W e l l , " said Toombs, " I should
charge $1000, but you ought to have
$5000, for you did a great many things
that I would not have done."
" S u m a n d S u b s t a n c e /'
A ton of gold is worth $600,000.
The first theatre was built at Athens
in the year 340 B. C.
Football has been played in England
for more than 500 years.
Every fifth boy in India is at school,
and only every fiftieth girl.
The introduction of si reel springs
for coaches dates from about 1750.
There are 20 Representatives in
Congress who are under 36 years of
age.
Food for the London Zoo's animals
cost $500 a week.
One ot the fancies of the hour is the
dating of letters at the bottom of the
page.
There are upwards of 80,000 in-habitants
on the slopes and skirts of
Vesuvius.
One pound of cork is sufficient to
support a man of ordinary size in the
Water.
A parade, participated in by 24,000
bicyclists, may be a sight at the
Chicago Exhibition.
The hardest known wood is cocus
wood ; it turns the edge of any a
however well tempered.
Goat Horns is the name of a weekly
paper just started in Memphis in the
interest of the fraternal societits.
A blacksmith's tools of the present
day are almost identical with those
used in the same trade oyer 300 years
ago.
At a religious service in the Zwingli
Reformed Church, Harrisburg, a whole
family consisting of father, mother and
eight children were united with the
church.
Although a theatrical manager for
four years, during which time 300 per^
formances have been given at his
Opera House in Monongahela City,
William Lewis has never seen a single
act played.
Remember the Departed Ones.
T h e M a n h e i m Marble and Granite
W o r k s , n e a r t h e r a i l r o a d d e p o t , a r e well
p r e p a r e d to e x e c u t e at s h o r t notice all
k i n d s of t o m b s t o n e s , m o n u m e n t s and
c e m e t e r y e n c l o s u r e s . The y a r d is well
s t o c k e d w i t h an e l e g a n t a s s o r t m e n t of
a l l k i n d s of m a t e r i a l ior this p u r p o s e,
t h u s e n a b l i n g t h e m a n a g e r to s u i t all
t a s t e s i n s t y l e s a n d p r i c e s . Please call if
i n n e e d of a n y t h i n g i n o u r l i n e.
20au-6m S. B. H A B N E R , Manager.
A Prisoner's Romance.
An application for the pardon of
John McAdoo, who was sent to San
Quentin prison for ten years for shoot-ing
his brother-in-law, has revealed a
sentimental story of great interest.
McAdoo, a Londonderry man, lived an
industrious life in Stockton, Cal., for
many years with his wife and child.
Twelve years ago he gave his brother-in
law, John Hamilton, the money to
purchase half a lot in the cemetery,
Hamilton bought the lot and had the
deed made out in his own name. Two
years later McAdoo's wife died, and
then the bereaved husband went to
Hamilton to ask in what side of the
lot he should bury his wife. Hamilton
spoke so insultingly about his dead
sister that McAdoo drew a pistol and
shot him in the leg. McAdoo was
tried for assault with intent to kill,
convicted and sent to prison for ten
years. From the first he refused to
tell the real cause of the quarrel.
McAdoo's little girl was sent to an
orphan asylum. After staying in San
Quentin for two years McAdoo
managed to escape and came to San
Francisco. He took his child from
the institution where she had been
placed and went back to Stockton un
der an assumed name. He had aged
so in his prison life that none of his
old friends recognized him.
In Stockton he labored for several
years to give his girl a good education
and saw her happily married. One
day last week he was recognized by a
prison official and taken back to San
Quentin. A great deal of sympathy
has been created for him and it is like-ly
that he will soon be released.
A Modest Hero.
There was an old negro floating in a
skiff on the headwaters of thé Licking.
He was fishing—fish mighty fine down
that way. He had a boy in the boat
with him who kept looking into the
water until he lost his balance and
disappeared in the water. Quicker
than I could tell you the old man
had his coat off" and dove for the boy,
He brought him up all right then
rowed for the bank. When they got
out, dripping, of course, a white man
who had seen the whole business, com-plimented
the old man on his heroic
act.
" He must be a son of yours," said
the white man.
" No ; no, sah ; no son mine."
" Nephew, then ?"
" No ; no, sah ; no nephew."
" Cousin ? "
" No ; no cousin."
" Then you deserve all the more
credit for saving his life."
" Well, I doan' know 'bout dat,
boss. You see he had all de bait in
his pocket.
—In 1782 a cow was tried for mur
der at Poitonf, France, and five years
later a pig, which had killed a child
in the streets of Menlan, was thrown
into prison, tried and finally strangled
in the market place.
OWEN P. BBICKER, Esq., attorney
at-law, is in town every Saturday and
Monday morning and can be consulted
in all legal business. Lancaster office
48 North Duke street.
Over the State.
The Myerstown Enterprise has been
sold by W. S. Uhrich to P. L. Zimmer-man,
The Red Men of Pennsylvania will
hold their Great Council at Reading,
May 19-22.
Worrying because her husband had
no employment, Mrs. Isaac Moser, of
Easton, hanged herself.
Lebanon has a new bank, the Farm-ers'
National, having been organized
with a capital of $50,000.
Injuries received jvhile wrestling
with a school companion have caused
the death of Willie F. Kershner, aged
15 years.
A misplaced switch at Slatington
wrecked a freight train on the Lehigh
Valley road. Fireman Sharp was in-jured.
After being detained in Russia by
famine for six year? Mrs. Doran Riger
rejoined her husband at Shamokin.
William Van Norman, a lad from
Phillipsburg, N. J., while in Bethle-hem,
put a pistol bullet through his
hand "to see how it felt to be shot."
I t is likely that the 20,000,000 bricks
needed to build the State Insane Hos-pital
at Wernersville will be manu-factured
from clay taken from the
building site.
Charged with obtaining money un-der
false pretense and misappropri-ation
of funds, Arthur J. Hoff, an
agent of 'the. Merchants' Protective
Society, is in jail at Reading.
At a town meeting in Reading it
was decided to organize a stock com-pany
to construct the four-mile boule-vard,
the farmers along the route
having given the necessary right of
way gratis.
Suit has been brought by Charles
Hutchinson, the coal operator of
Kingston, for $100,000 damages against
J . J . Albright, of Scranton, for failure
to rebuild a coal breaker that bad
burned down.
At the Petticoffer-Leavy wedding at
Womelsdorf the banquet tabk was
adorned with china, every piece of
which is 300 years old.
W. C. Erskine, a prominent lawyer,
of Pittsburg, was attacked by footpads,
robbed of $1000 in cash and his
valuables and badly beaten.
The debt created by the erection of
Santee Hall, at the Bethany Orphans'
Home, Womelsdorf, has been canceled
by the generosity of women societies.
Imagining that he and his family
were " bewitched," Jefferson Moyer
sold his farm at Hottlesville, Lehigh
County, and moved to Bethlehem to
escape the evil spirits.
A trip around the world on a bicycle
that required eleven months has just
been completed by George D. Mitchell,
son of ex-United States Senator John
I . Mitchell, of Tioga County.
Titus Dellicker and Franklin Dey-shpr,
of Boyerstown, were arrested,
charged with being implicated in the .
rail-riding of Professor Zaler. All
told, nine people have now been seized
for this offense.
Four uniformed Polish guards have
for 36 hours watched the " Tomb of
Christ" in the Polish Church at Read-ing.
Two Pottsville men who are yet at
large, beat Thomas Griffith, of Port
Carbon, so badly that he is likely to
die.
The Pennsylvania Railroad is look-ing
over a route for a road up the Le-high
Valley from Easton to Maunch
Chunk.
Three children of Wilson Peifer, of
Cross Kill Mills, Lebanon County,
have died of scarlet fever within two
weeks.
A rare Indian poison pot was found
by Jonas DeTurk on the Roudenbush
farm, Burwin township, Berks Coun-t
y -
A petition to the Board of Pardons
is being circulated in Clinton County
to save the neck of Murderer Cleary,
of Renovo.
The Columbia County Jail does not
contain a prisoner.
A drug in the medicine she was
taking for rheumatism killed Mrs.
Mury Teufel, of Altoona.
Mrs. Catharine Schlabach, of Easton,
after failing to bleed herself to death,
drank laudanum and died.
Capitalists of Sunbury are combining
to build a $125,000 bridge across the
Susquehanna River at that town.
Deafened by measels 20 years ago,
S. B. M. Sleeger, Grothe, of York, has
suddenly recovered his hearing.
The week just ended, notwithstand-ing
the McKinley law, was the dullest
eyer known in the iron trade in Pitts-burg.
Three horses hitched to a wagon-load
of hay ran away near AUentown
during a brisk wind storm, and the hay
was entirely blown away.
A deep gash across the abdomen and
a stab in the arm was the condition in
which Harry Frederick, of York,
emerged from a fight with a compan-ion.