Lititz Record

              Published Every Friday Morning by
J. PRANK BUCH.
OFFICE—No. 9 S. Broad street, Lititz,
Lancaster County, Pa.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.—For one
year $1.00, if paid in adyance, and 91.25
if payment be delayed to the end of year.
For s ix months, 50 cents, and for three
months, 30 cents, strictly in advance.
JE&'A failure to notify a discontinuance
at the end of the term subscribed for,
v.'ill be considered a wish to continue
the paper.
^ S - A n y person sending us five new
cash subscribers for one year will be
entitled to the RECORD for one year, f or
his trouble.
LITITZ RECORD.
An Independent Family Newspaper, Devoted to Literature, Agriculture, Local and General Intelligence.
VOL. XX. LITITZ, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 19, 1897. NO. 24.
3S of Advertising' in the Record,
1 in 2 in 3 n. H c- 'A c. I col
fiO 90 1 25 2 25 4 on 7 50
75 1 Sfi 1 90 a 25 5 75 in 00 11 00 / 7 h 2 511 4 «5 7 50 1ft 50 •A 2 !5 S IK) 5 25 9 25 15 no1
ä 0(1 H •Jh 4 50 7 50 IS 25 00
SO 4 25 « 00 9 75 17 00 31 on
A ftl) « 21} « 50 15 (10 i!8 no 54 00
o 00 9 50 13 75 2« 00 50 00 96 CO
Yearly advertisements to be paid quar-terly.
Transient advertisements payable
in advance.
Advertisements, to insure immediate
insertion, must be handed in, at the very
latest, by Wednesday evening.
Job TiTork of all kinds neatly and
promptly executed at short notice.
All communications should be address-ed
to
RECORD OFFICE,
Lititz, Lane. Co., Pa.
B R O A D S T R E E T C L O T H I N G HOUSE.
flqetion I flqctiop I
On Sitirtij. Ftburi 20,'97,
Afternoon and Evening,
HALLACHER'S HALL,
W K R W I C K , P H„
In order to reduce my stock, I will sell at Auction the follow-ing
useful articles :
Ready-Made Suits,
For Men and Boys;
OVERCOATS, PANTALOONS,
OVERALLS, JUMPERS,
MONSIEUR SILVAIN'S SECEET.
Underwear, Wool Shirts, Cotton Shirts, Suspenders,
Collars, Cuffs, Ties, Half-Hose, Garters, Sweaters,
Gloves, Jewelry, and variety of other articles.
T E R 7 V Y S C A S H .
Auctions to commence at i and 6:30 P, M., on said day,
when attendance will be and terms made known by
W. H. BUCH,
C L O T H I E R ,
Broad Street, - Lititz, Penna.
J J A T S , CAPS OR GLOVES.
THREE
TIPS. K
TIP ONE—If you want a S T I F F or S O F T H A T see
ours at $1.00 to $3.00.
TIP TWO—If you want a PLUSH, W O O L or CLOTH
C A P ; s e e o u r s at 2 5 c t o $1.50.
TIP THREE—If you want a W A R M and SERVICEABLE
PAIR O F GLOVES, s e e ours at 25c to $1.00.
Cut Prices on All Winter Goods.
H. L. BOÄS,
I ' 4 4 N o r t b QÙ C C Q S t r e e t , - . LANCASTER, P a .
N E W T . W I N G E R T , M A N A G E R.
A UCTION S A L E ! AUCTION S A L E !
CHAS. S . GILL,
N o r t b Q ù e ? o S t r e e t, L A N C A S T E R , P A.
Special Sale this week of Rogers' Silver Plated Knives,
Forks and Spoons, Casters, Butter Dishes, Cake Baskets, Ice
Pitchers, Water Sets, Tea Sets, Chocolate Sets, Berry Dishes.
Everything in Cut Glass
A l s o Sterling Silver Spoons and Forks, Fancy Pieces such as
Berry Spoons, Pie Knives, Gravy and Soup Ladles, Butter
Knives, Jelly Spoons, B o n - B o n Dishes, &c.
Jewelry both Gold and Plate—Rings, Earrings, Brooch Pins,
Scarf Pins, Ladies' and Gents' Chains, Pocket Knives, Pocket
Books, Umbrellas, Canes, &c. Also Brass Tables, Lamps,
Jardinieres, Brie a-Brac, China and Silver Novelties, Ladies'
and Gents' Gold and Silver Watches and Diamonds.
f i g = > E v e r y t h i n g must be sold as we are g o i n g out of the
Jewelry Business and leaving Lancaster.
MONSIEUR SILVAIN, who
I y I was a bachelor, occupied
A room in Rue Vivienne, on the
second floor, and below him was his
neighbor, Mme. Everard, the widow of
a Colonel. The lady's rooms were
generally silent, but one day M. Sil-vain,
as he mounted the stairs, heard
the voice of a fine soprano singing
' LJ Normandie." The gentleman
rang at the door of the stage. His
curiosity was awakened. Mme. Ever-ard
received him.
"I fancy that the unusual has not
escaped your notice," said the lady.
" The singer is the daughter of an old
friend of mine." Then there was an
introduction, and M. Silvain paid his
respects to a beautiful young woman,
Madame said, " She ia a very adven-turous
and independent young lady,
M. Silvain. When her father died
three years ago, leaving her to face the
world alone, she adopted music aa her
profession, and, not being appreciated
in her native place, Rouen, came up to
Paris—"
" And she will be famous some day,"
remarked M. Silvain, " and maybe
she will find a surer road to happiness
through marriage."
" I f you consider marriage equiva-lent
to happiness, M. Silvain, pardon
me for asking how it is you are still a
bachelor."
" Mademoiselle, I must plead that it
13 not my fault, but my misfortune.
Constantly occupied in my—ahem !—
official duties, I have had no leisure to
think of matrimony, but I hope—"
" Your official duties ?" the widow
interrupted quickly. Then you have
a post under Government, M. Silvain?"
" I—hm—have occupied my present
position for a number of years, Mad-ame.
Do not let my presence preyent
you from finishing that charming song,
Mademoiselle."
" I see that you admire my young
friend," said Madame, when the two
were chatting aside.
" She is adorable! such a union of
grace, beauty, and sweetness I have
never seen."
" You must be a very acute observer
to discover her angelic qualities after
being only five minutes in her com-pany.
But perhaps you have heard
something of her history—though I
don't know who can have told you."
He shook his head with a smile
"Renee is the daughter of Raymond
Duvilliers of Rouen."
I have heard.of him, Madame."
You have heard nothing to his
credit, I fear," she remarked, shaking
her head significantly. " He began
life with every advantage, but after
squandering hia fortune, he retrieved
hia fortune by a rich marriage, though,
of course, he soon ran through half his
wife's money. Alter her father's
death, Renee found among his papers
a memorandum concerning a certain
Mathieu, an ex-dancing master of
Paris, whom the Captain had—swin-dled.
Duvilliers had managed to keep
on the safe side of the code. Well,"
she continued, " you may think how
shocked hia daughter was by the dis
coyery. She never rested till by
means of advertisements in Parisian
papers, she had discovered her father's
victim and made restitution. She at
once refunded the greater part of the
money, and undertook to pay the rest
in annual installments out of the pit-tance
she had left herself, which she
proposed to increase by teaching."
M. Silvain coughed, and changed
his position abruptly. " And this
person—Mathieu—how could he ac-cept
the reparation, knowing that she
had reduced herself to poverty in order
to—"
" He did not know it. The money
was refunded through her lawyer
liaitre Delauney of Rouen, in her
fathers's name. Delaunay was her
agent in the matter—solely against his
will, as it deprived his son of a fortune,
for Renee was engaged to be married
to Maurice Delaunay, whom she had
known from childhood, but when she
insisted on beggaring herself, the no-tary
and his wife peremptorily broke
off the match "
Her companion shut his snufl box
with an indignant snap. " You must
have a poor opinion of my sex, Mad-ame,
if you think that beauty and
goodness such as hers—"
" Eh, my good Sir, you are sadly
behind the limes! But, hush," she
broke i n ," Renee is coming back."
" It is strange," said Renee, slowly;
your face seems familiar to me. I
can't think of whom it is ycu remind
me."
M. Silvain presently took his leave.
When the little gentleman had bowed
himself out, Mme. Everard turned to
her companion and demanded abrupt-ly
: " Well, what do you think of my
neighbor ?"
" I think he is ' charming, charm-ing,'
" she replied, with a droll imita-tion
of his manner; " but he is a living
anachronism. He ought to have been
a functionary of the vieille cour, in
stead of a clerk under the republic.
" In fact, Renee, you Lave made
conquest. He can't be much over
fifty. He is rich, good natured, and
good mannered ; occupying, it appears
a responsible post under the Govern
ment—let me tell you, Rsnee, that
such a match is not to be despised by
a girl in your position."
" Perhaps not," she acquiesced mild
l y ; •' but as I happen to be already
engaged to Maurice Delauney—"
" Did you not tell me that the en
gagement had been broken off by his
people three years ago ?"
" Yes but not by himself. He
would have married me in defiance of
them, but I told him that I would not
be his wife till—till I had fulfilled my
task and cleared my father's name of
the stain of dishonor."
"And you think he will wait for
you?" her friend questioned, with a
cynically compassionate smile.
She answered softly, " I am sure of
his fidelity. ' Work, wait, and trust,'
that is my motto."
As she crossed the Pont Neuf next
day Renee paused for a moment to
drop a contribution into the leathern
wallet of an old, wooden-legged fiddler,
familiarly known to Parisians by the
soubriquet of Pere Joyeux. For more
years than any one cared to count he
had haunted the same sheltered corner
near tha end of the bridge.
Coins of any sort were not very
plentiful with Renee.
" My little lady, you have given me
a silver piece; did you know ?''
" Yes, I have no coppers. Is it not
a good one ?" she asked.
" Quite good, and a new one. too!
I shall keep it for luck, he replied,
and he broke into the tune o f " Monsi-eur
et Madame Denis."
Renee found herself humming the
refrain of the foolish old song as she
went her way. Her heart thrilled
with the longing to see Maurice again ;
to hear once more the dear, familiar
voice which to her was the sweetest
music the world could give.
" Renee!"
She paused with a start at the
speaker. It was Maurice himself.
"Ranee, don't you know me?" he
questioned,
" Oh, Maurice, is it really you ?"
was all she could find to say. " I had
no idea you were in Paris."
" Nor has any one else," he replied.
" And how has the world been using
you sweetheart, since we parted a
year ago ? he went on.
"Fairly well, though, to tell the
truth, I find the road to success steeper
than I expected."
" Why will you net give me the
right to help you, Renee "
" I have put my hand to the plow,
and I must not look back," she re-joined
with a serious smile.
" Is it no hardship that you should
be wearing out your youth in toil and
poverty to atone for your father's
fault?"
Then the sound of a church clock
striking the hour made Renee start.
" Twelve o'clock! You have be-guiled
me into forgetting all my pu-pils,"
she exclaimed. "I must go
now."
"I intend to spend New Year's
Day with you," said Maurice. " Till
then, good-bye, sweet love. I leave
my heart in your keeping."
" As mine is in yours," she whis-pered
as they parted.
It was the last day of the old year.
For the first time on record M. Silvain
so far departed from his usual habits
as not to leave home until afternoon.
" And he was dressed like a Prince,
Madame! a brand-new overcoat with
a fur collar, and a hat you could see
yourself in. I was to give his compli-ments
and say that he would have the
honor of waiting upon yoa at 4 o'clock,
when he hoped to find Mile. Renee
also at home," said Marthe, Mme.
Everard's maid.
Meanwhile, her fellow-lodger, walk-ing
with his mo3t juvenile step, crossed
the river, along the Boulevard to the
Palais Royal, where he entered a
florist's sbop and purchased at a fancy
price, a superb bouquet of hot-house
roses.
After a stroll through the brilliantly
lighted arcades of the Palais, he turned
toward home, which he reached shortly
before 4 o'clock.
" The ladies are in the aalon," Mar-the
told him; " there ia a visitor with
them, a friend of Mademoiselle, who
has just arrived."
'• Yery good," he answered absently.
The old bachelor's cheeks were
flushed, and his heart beat fast as he
approached the door of the sitting
room. It was partly open, and he
paused, furtively adjusting his collar
and cravat, he heard a sound of
laughter within — Renee's musical
voice mingling with the deeper tones
of a man.
On the hearth, oppoaite to him,
stood Renee, flushed and radiant, look-ing
up into the handsome bronzec
face of a tall dark-eyed young fellow
of three or four and twenty, who hac
imprisoned both her hands in his own
while his other arm, from which ahe
was laughingly endeavoring to disen-gage
herself, encircled her waist.
" Let me go, Sir ; don't you see that
Mme. Everard looks quite scanda-lized
?" she exclaimed, glancing at
Mme. Everard, whose face expressed
the most unqualified disapproval.
It is at you, then, not at me!" he
declared. " Madame is naturally
astonished that you should object to be
respectfully saluted by your fiance—
so !'' aod suiting the action to the
word, he bent and kissed her.
M. Silvain started as if he had been
struck, and hastily drawing back, be>
fore any one had perceived hia pres'
ence, turned from the door.
Make my compliments to the
ladies, and say that as they have a
visitor I will not intrude this evening,"
he said, and walked away.
Safely locked in his own room, he
stood for a moment looking vaguely
round, like one waking from a dream,
then becoming conscious of the roses in
his hand, he flung them from him
with a passionate ejaculation, and sit-ting
down at the table, let his head
fall on his folded arms and cried like
a child.
Then there came a gentle knock at
his door, and he opened it.
I am come to scold you, M. Sil-vain,"
said Renee, with her sweet
smile. " Marthe tells us that you re-fused
to come in because we had a
visitor. Surely you did not think you
would be intruding? M. Delaunay
wishes to be introduced to you. I
ought to tell you," she added shyly,
that we—that we are engaged,
though our engagement has not the
sanction of his family, and—you are
not ill, M. Silvain ?"
He shook his head, smiling con-strainedly.
" No, not ill, only a little
low spirited."
" I am very sorry," she said, gently.
" We have all our troubles—you
have yours also, my child, have you
not ? but you are young, and in youth*
though sorrow may endure for a
night, joy cometh with the morning.'"
" My ' morning' seems still far off,"
she answered, with a smile and a sigh.
"Thanks for your sympathy, my
aweet friend. Good-night."
" Until to morrow," she cried.
He watched her out of sight, then
stood for a moment on the landing,
looking down, deep in thought. When
he raised his face it had recovered its
usual serenity, and wore a look of re-solution
which gave it a new dignity.
" Yes," he muttered, " I wiil do it;
she shall be happy. And as for me—
well, I shall be no worse oil than I
was formerly. Allons!"
Daylight was waning when at last
Renee and Maurice turned their faces
homeward. Half way across the Pont
Neuf, Renee paused with a regretful
exclamation.
" I quite forgot Pere Joyeux!"
" Who is he ? her companion de-manded.
" An old pensioner of mine; a crip-pled
fiddler who always plays on the
bridge. There he ia, oa the other side.
Let us crosa over."
" Never mind now, Renee ; it is get-ting
dark, and beginning to snow again.
Give him something to-morrow."
" But this is New Year's Day, and
it seems unkind to neglect him when I
am so happy. Look, he has seen me
he is looking so wiatfully! Stay
here, I shall not be a moment."
The road was slippery with fresh-fallen
snow, and when half way acrosa
the girl's foot slipped. She made a
vain effort to recover herself, and fell
just in the track of the heavy vehicle,
which came thundering along, drawn
by two powerful horses. The driyer,
on his high perch, did not perceive
what had happened till the bystanders
uttered a warning shout, which waa
echoed by a cry of alarm from Mau-rice,
as he hurried to her assistance.
Pere Joyeux, who had been watch-ing
her movements, flung his violin
aside, and before Maurice could reach
the spot, he had snatched her literally
from under the horses' hoofs.
" What an escape!" Maurice gasped.
"Are you hurt, Renee?"
" No, no; but where is Pere Joyeux
who has saved my life?" she asked,
anxiously looking round. Then Renee
saw the figure of her old friend
stretched insensible upon the asphalt
The next moment a policeman ap-proached,
and after a few brief in-quiries,
which Maurice answered, per-emptorily
dispersed the lookers-on,
and hailed a passing carriage, giving
the order: " To the Hotel Dieu."
" Ia he seriously hurt t" asked Renee
when she went to the hospital.
" He is dying," was the grave reply.
" You are surprised at the change in
hia appearance ?" the surgeon re-marked
in an undertone; he had been
wearing a false beard, and without it
he looks quite a different man. It
possible that he—"
"Is she there?" the patient asked
faintly.
" I am M. Silvain to you," he said
when they were alone; "but your
father knew me aa Silvain Mathieu."
" What! it was you whom my father
wronged ?" she faltered.
" Dear child, you have repaired the
wrong and left me your debtor," he
gently replied. " You know what was
formerly my profession ? I was a dan©
ing master; I met with an accident and
became a cripple. I had little money.
I lost it in a speculation. I had the
natural instincts of the vagabond,
became the atreet musician. I am the
Pere Joyeux. Do not look distressed.
It was a life just suited to me.
could be a gentleman at times—aa M.
Silvain. I had not as many friends as
Silvain as I had as le Pere Joyeux
I loyed you as a daughter when you
first put money in my hand. But
there is more than that."
Renee kissed the hurt man.
He continued: "The false beard
and the wooden leg made all the
difference to some—but not to you
Yea, kiss me again," and with the
ghost of his former gallant manner he
raised Renee'a hand to his lips. Renee
was sobbing.
" Hush," he interrupted gently ;
" what better fortune can I have than
to save your life and secure your hap-piness
? Renee, you will find a parcel
in my desk, directed to yourself. I
restore your gift, dear—as I meant to
have done—if I had lived. There ia
no obstacle now between you—and—
your lover. God bless you both.
How dark itggrows—and cold ! Do
not be sorry for me, dear—I am quite
content," he continued, with a tranquil
smile.
"Quite content," he repeated; and
with the smile on his lips he died.
On the afternoon of their wedding
day, before starting on their journey
into Normandy, Renee and Maurice
croased the Pont Neuf once more, to
pay a last visit to Pere Joyeux'a old
haunts.
I am glad no one has taken his
place," Renee said softly, after a mo-ment
; " it would seem almost like dese-cration.
I fancy I can still hear the
sound of his violin !"
Maurice looked down at her tenderly.
" Yes," she concluded, with a happy
smile: "' Sorrow endured for a night,
but joy has come with the morning!' "
He Put lip a Gravestone.
Did you hear the story of the man
who lost his wife and put up a tomb-stone
to her memory, and had carved
thereon in large lettera:
THE LIGHT
OF MY LIFE
HAS GONE OUT.
Well (aa uaual), about three months
after she had defuncted, be took it into
his head to marry another girl, and
went to see a minister about uniting
them in galling and terrifically ex-pensive
bonds of matrimony. The
parson expressed himself aa being quite
willing to perform the operation, but
remarked that the inscription he had
placed on hia first wife's tombatone
might prove somewhat embarraaaing.
"Ah, yes, I remember that," re-marked
the ex-morcer. " Let me see.
I said : ' The light of my life has gone
out,' didn't I? Well, I'll soon fix
that. There's lots of room underneath,
and I'll just have the monument man
put there:
BUT
I HAVE STRUCK
ANOTHER MATCH."
—If we could trace Dyspepsia to its
source, it would lead back to our
kitchens. In fact, the secret of good
health is good cooking. If well cook-ed,
foods are partially digested; if
poorly cooked, they are leas digestible
than in their raw state. If you are a
victim of faulty cooking; that is, if
you suffer from Dyspepsia, the rational
sure must be looked for in an artifici-ally
digested food, and a food which
will at the same time aid the digestion
of other foods. Such a preparation
virtually rests the tired digestive
organs, thereby restoring them to their
natural strength.
The Digestive Cordial, ia prepared
by the Shakers of Mount Lebanon, is
just such a preparation, and a single
10 cent bottle will convince you of its
value. If your druggist doesn't keep
it, he will be glad to get it through
his wholesale house.
Laxol is the beat medicine for chil-dren.
Doctora recommend it in place
of Castor Oil.
$ 3 l OH M c S i B given FREE
iP^jf-UUiUU PRIZES EACH i¥SONTH
A s f o l l o w s §
4 First Prizes, each of $ 1 0 0 Cash -
a w : " I ' S i a r - l ; » ®
Cash and Prizes given each month
- « 400JO ,000.00
000.00
13,400.00
12
Tota! gran during 12 nisi, 1897,14y0gj0 WRAPPERS
HOW TO 0BTAIW THEM.
Competitors t o s a v e a s many SUNLIGHT
SOAP Wrappers a s t h e y c a n c o l l e c t . Cut
off the top portion of each
wrapper, that portion rnntnin.
>ng t h e h e a d i n g "SUNLIGHT
SOAP." These (called"Con.
pons") a r e t o be s e n t , p o s t a ge
f u l l y paid, e n c l o s ed with a
s h e e t o f p a p e r s t a t i n s Compet-i
t o r ' s f u l l name and address
a n d the number of Coupons
s e n t in, t o I / e v e r B r o s . , J,t,"
N e w Y o r k , "
HOLES.
1. Every month during 1897 in each of tho i districts
prizes will be awarded as follows:
S E N D THIS TOP PORTION
T h a i Competitor who sends in tha
Xial'gest Niunlbel* of coilpons from
the district in which he or she resides
Bill receive S 1 0 0 C'asl!
mpetitors wh
N j i£ rer^llros.i J.td.i i
»JBWAjgT":
- ^ VfO^Aií'
Tha 5 Competit
t i a
ho send in the
Mo. of
District NAME OF DISTRICT.
N e w York City, Brooklyn. LOOK
and a t a t e n Islands» N e w J e r s e y.
N e w Y o r b S t a t e Coutside of N.T. City, 11 ' " Long and Staten Islands).
A Word or Two
to sufferers from catarrh will not be
amiss if a cure can be offered. Ely's
Cream Balm has become a favorite in
all sections of the United States.
Your cold in the head will be quickly
relieved by it, and the severeat attack
of catarrh will yield to, and be per-fectly
cured by a thorough treatment.
Catarrh ia not a blood disease, but an
inflammation of the paasagea of the
noae and throat, due to climatic
changes.
P e n n s y l v a n i a , D e l a w a r e , IVIary-
3 land, W e s t Virginia and D i s -
t r i c t o f Columbia.
I T h e N e w England S t a t e s.
•The Bicycles are the celebrated P i e r c e S p e c i a l,
1897 Pattern, m'f'd by Geo. N.Pierce & Co.; ol Buf-falo,
Boston and New York. Fitted with Hartford
Tires, First Class Nickle Lamn, New Departure
Bell. Standard Cyclometer, and Iinnt Lace Saddle.
N e s t l a r g e s t Numbers of cou-pons
from the district in which they
reside will EacSa receive at winner's
option a lady's or gentleman'3 P i e r ce
S p e c i a l bicycle, price ¡8100. CO.
„ .. _ The 1 0 Competitors who send in tha
n e x t l a r g e s t N u m b e r s of coupons from the dis-trict.
m which they reside will E a c h receive at winner's
option a lady's or gentleman's Gold Watch, price $25.
„ 3 - . The Competitions will C l o s e the l a s t D a y of
E a c h M o n t h during 1897, Coupons received toolate
tor one month's competition will be put into the next.
3 . Competitors who obtain wrappers from unsold
soap m dealer's stock will be disqualified. Employees
of Lever Brothers, Ltd., and their families, are de-barred
from competing.
4 . A printed iist of Winners in Compet itor's district
will be forwarded to Competitors in about 21 days after
each competition closes.
5 . Lever Brothers, Ltd., will endeavor to award the
prizes fairly to the best of their ability and judgment,
but it is understood that all who compete agree to ac-cept
the award of Lever Brothers, Ltd., as final.
I.EVE IT B E O S . , t i t ! . . N e w York.
BY EHE WAY.
Interesting Notes and Comments on
Persons. P l a c e s and Things.
THERE will be introduced in the
Legislature shortly, probably before
this appears in print, a bill looking to
the abolishment of the social curse, the
treating habit. It is said by those
who have the bill in charge that it
will be drawn up so carefully that not
an avenue of escape will be left to any-one
infringing its conditions, yet it is
doubtful, if put to the test, whether
such a bill would not be declared un-constitutional.
The title of the bill is
aa follows : " An act to prohibit any
person or persons from paying for or
promising to pay for any spirituous,
vinous, malt or brewed liquor, or any
admixture thereof that was, or is to be
supplied, furnished or delivered to or
for the use of any other person or
persons, and to prohibit saloon, hotel
or restaurant keepers, bar tenders or
any other venders or dispensers of
spirituous, vinous, malt or brewed
liquor from furnishing liquor or any
admixture thereof to any person or
persons when paid for by a person
other than the one to whom and for
whose personal use such liquor was
supplied, furnished or delivered."
IN THE first section of the bill it is
further provided that it will be unlaw-ful
for any person to oiler to pay for
any food of whatever kind, with which
such liquor is or may be supplied or
given away, that has been, or is to be,
or was, or is intended to be supplied,
furnished or delivered to or for the use
of any other person or persons what-ever.
This is intended to prevent any
one from evading the law by getting
liquor under the guise of paying for
the food only. The penalty for the
violation of the law is very severe, and
reads as follows : " Any person violat-ing
any of the provisions of this act
shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and
upon conviction thereof shall be sen-tenced
to pay a fine of not more than
¡¡100 or less than §25, or to undergo
an imprisonment in the work house of
the county in which said offense may
be committed, of not mora than six
months or less than one month, or
Doth, at the discretion of the court."
* * &
MUCH has been said ADD perhaps
more written on the evils of the treat-ing
h a b i t ; and if this bill will be the
means of putting a stop to the pernici-ous
custom, the author of it will have
done more to solve the liquor question
than all the temperance lectures and
sermons that have or ever will be de-livered.
It is one of the greatest evils
that ever menaced a republic, and
while moral suasion failed, it remains
for the law to interfere and compel
men to refrain from tempting other
men to excessive drinking under the
guise of good fellowship. There is
more drunkenness due to that same
good fellowship than to any other
cause. Men seek the tempting allure-ments
of the barroom not so much for
the sake of drinking as for a friendly
chat, with no intention of indulging to
excess, but the danger line is soon
crossed by the pernicious American
habit of treating in turn, a3 i3 the
custom, and a fear of appearing un-sociable
before friends by not following
suit. The social glass is the glass that
stings. Young men think it looks
" big " to stand before a bar and order
up the drinks for their friends, and
pay for them with .a reckless abandon
that ia indicative of a want of common
sense and a desire to show the world
they are sowing their wild oats. You
will notice that they don't feel quite as
" big," though, when they begin to
harvest the oats.
T H E R E is at least some admiration
about the man who if honest in his in
tentions, and if he sees fit to take a
drink, does so without any unnecessary
show and yet not seeking to hide what
may be termed an evil. There is, per-haps,
as much virtue in good liquors,
if rightly used, as in many of the
patent medicines that people dose
themselves with indiscriminately. The
danger lies in the improper use of
liquors, and to nothing is this due so
much as the treating habit. If this
can be broken up, and we hope that it
caD, it will b§ the greatest blow to in-temperance
and drunkenness that has
ever been ¿truck. Treating is not
only a pernicious habit, but it is a
most absurd one. As well might a
person take a friend into a barber shop
and treat hira to a shave, or to a
bakery and treat him to a pie, or to a
butcher shop and treat him to a pound
of meat. But a person would take
such an offer as an insult. Yet how
much more sensible would this be than
to take-him to a saloon and treat him
to what he really does not want, but
undergoes the ordeal to uphold the
damnable social habit of treating.
W H I L E the white ribbon brigade
mean well in their crusade against in«
toxicants, they seem to go about the
matter in an entirely erroneous way.
Fighting the saloon will not accomplish
their purposa no more than fighting a
burning building in the middle will
quench it. The great trouble seems to
lie in rejecting any method that would
result in only partial success. They
scarn anything short of complete an-nihilation
of the saloon. Even this
proposed bill I don't believe will re-ceive
their earnest support from the
yery fact that it does not aim at the
extermination of the aaloon. The
Salvation Army has done more good
than all the churches put together
simply because it takes up where the
church lets off, it affiliates with the
common people, sympathizes with
them, takes them by the hand and
makes them feel the earnestness of its
cause. They do not shun the poor on
account of their poverty, or their
clothes, or expect them to reform in a
day, or a week, or a month, but by
kindness of heart and humiliation win
them over gradually but surely. By
throwing mud at the saloon the temper-ance
people can accomplish nothing.
As soon as they give up the idea of
wiping out the saloon entirely and con-centrate
their efforts on reforming
present conditions through right edu-cation,
their work will bear fruit.
Reducing the evil to a minimum will
go a long ways toward solving the
problem.
5|5 t' $
THAT the proposed bill should hi-come
a law there is no question, and
to which every right-thinking person
will subscribe. PHIL,
Over the State.
A freight traia cut of bolh legs of
Amos Hershberger, four:een years old,
of Palmyra.
A fast express struck and killed
Phi!op Scrnnel, a Ponisy crossing
watchman, at Williamsport.
I n blasting stumps at Arnot Pat'
riikDwyre, an Erie Railroad sectioH
foreman, was blown to pieces.
Harold Barley, 13 years old, was
acquitted in Philadelphia of a charge
of attempting to poison his mother.
While p'ayiag with the baby Harry
Allison, a Mercer county farmer, com-mitted
suicide by shooting himself.
Mechanics in the Reading Railway
shops at Reading are likely to organize
as a body and join the Railway Y. M.
C, A.
Three prisoners charged with drunk-enness
escaped from the Lebanon
police station by prying off the bars at
the window of the eel!.
During the public sale at Henry S.
Zook's farm house in Cfernarvon,
Berks County, 300 bidders had to be
provided with dinner.
Daring a row at Boiling Springs,
Cumberland county, Robert Donnelly
was probably fatally Ehot by James
Smith who Had to the mountains.
The property of Henry N. Kittle, of
Lebanon, who ran away recently, after
committing heavy forgeries, was sold
by the sheriff to John A. Rittle, a
brother, for $1400,