Mapleton Item

              ip^iMPisiiWiiiPi^i mm
VOL. d.
MAPLETON DEPOT, PA., WEDNESDAY,  JANUARY 29, 1890.
NO. 43.
BUSINESS   CARDS.
j a. spanglek, m. d., .
—PHYSICIAN & SUBGEON,—
/_r*Office on Main Street, near Juniata
"House.  ________
*    W. SWOPE,
—JUSTICE OF THE PEACE.—
■ AU business entrusted with him will receive
proper attention.   Colleotlons made and im-
mediate returns given. Legal writing proinpt-
.ly executed.
/SC-Offico on Main street.
T   B. SIMPSON,
HUNTINGDON, PA.
FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE,
IN SOL-TO RELIABLE COMPANIES.
,*S_~Call a* office, or send for circulars.
•VST   H. _ J. S. WOODS,
ATTOENEyB_T-LAW,
Jfo. S87 Penn Street.   Opposite Flint National
Bank.
HmmNODOS, Pa.
T   P. WILSON,
—DEALKE   IN—
ANTHKAOKTE, BITUMINOUS, &
CANNELCOAL, & OONNELLS-
VELLE CEUSHED COKE.
•Ba-All orders promptly lilled at the lowest
prices possible. 	
CJ P. STUBBS,
* —CABPET WEAVER.—
and dealer in _U kinds of Carpet Chain and
Materials.
Prompt attention to business and satisfoc-
*,io"> guaranteed.   Charges reasonable.
•G M. G-reen.   H. E. Green.   W. D. F. Green.
O.M.Green&Sons,
DEALERS IN
All Kinds of Lumber,
and Manufacturers of
•Flooring, Moors, Sash,
FrasaBt-M, *Lath,
-Shingles, &c., &c.
Bill Stuff Gut to Order.
l^-All Bills Promptly Filled.,^
ADDBEBS,
G. M. GREEN & SONS,
.-CASSVILLE. PENN'A.
•a/jjjgK*
ANTHRACITE
o<C0ALItx>	
-x^y"""
Twill fill orders for Anthracite Coal, delivered off the
•car, until a change of price at the
mines, at the following prices:
Nut,          <Net Tons)       fi_.40
Stove,         I     " *§4._©
No. 4,          |     « f4.6«
.Leave your orders at the office.
Main Street Near Depot.
M. L. BEX.    .
"New Stage Route
 BETWEEN 1
Mapleton & Cassville.
 m^-^-m —
Tri-weekly—Monday, Wednesday,
and Friday. Leave Cassville, on each
of the above named days, at 7.30
o'clock, a. m., arriving at Mapleton
at 11 o'clock, a. m. lieturning, leave
Mapleton at any time to suit convenience of passengers. Fare, 50 cents-
Merchandise carried at reasonable
rates. W. A. HIGHT.
Cassville, Pa., July 3,1889.-tf.
Subscribe ford*
<x1the item.
(Senvllit j—»-A» noma UnUei-atand It.
Genteel it is to have soft hands,.
But not genteel to woik on lanhs;
Genteel it is to lie in bed,
But not genteel to earn your bread;
Genteel It is to cringe and bow,
But not genteel to sow or plow;
Genteel it is to play the beau,
Bnt not genteel to reap or mow;
Genteel it is to keep a gig,
-But not genteel to hoe or dig; *
Genteel it is in trade to fail,
But not genteel to swing a flail,
Genteel it is to play a fool,
But not genteel to keep a school;
Genteel it is to cheat your tailor,
But not genteel to be a sailor;
Genteel it is to fight a duel,
But not genteel to cut your fuel;
Genteel it is to eat rich cake,
But not genteel to cook or bake;
Genteel it is to have the blues,
But not genteel to wear thick shoes;
Genteel it is to roll in wealth,
But not genteel to have good health;
Genteel it is to "cut" a friend,
Bnt not genteel your clothes to mend;
Genteel it is to make a show,
But not genteel poor folks to know;
Genteel it is to go away,
But not genteel at home to stay;
Genteel it is to smirk and smile,
. But not genteel to shun all guile;
Genteel it is to be a knave,
But not genteel your cash to save;
Genteel it is to make a bet,
But not genteel to pay a debt;
Genteel it is to play at dice,
But not genteel to take advice;
Genteel it is to curse and swear,
But not genteel old clothes to wear;
Genteel it is to know a lord,
But not genteel to pay your board;
Genteel it is to skip and hop,
But not genteel to keep a shop.
. ,    m , aa,    .. '
TWO    LESI.ONS.
"What! Forty dollars more? Forty dollars only for trimmings! My
mother never spent so much on any
dress. And you have the dress.
1 hate to seem cross, my dear, hut
with so many business men failiug
every day, oue sees the wisdom of
economy.   Explain, my dear.
•-Well, papa," said Emma, "it is
Just this. Madame Farine says
that I need teu yards of a trimming at four dollars a yard. The
dress is half finished, and. really
money goes so. There were other
things to get. I'm ashamed to ask,
but I was obliged to do so."
"Very well my dear," said the
merchant, "there is tbe money, but
f -don't think you'll need any more
before Christmas. Times are not
good,you know,and—dear me! Forty dollars for trimming! Women
are getting worse than ever."
Emma Borne slipped the roll of
notes into her purse with a feeling
that it was dearly bought; bat fate
had placed so'many women in the
condition of beggars, aud it is so
customary to do as Emma did, that
she almost wondered at the little
pang whieh shot through her heart.
Besides, her father seemed to forget the matter soou, and she knew
that he was called rich—that actually forty dollars was but a small
sum to him. So, breakfast over,
aud Mr. Borne off for mysterious
regions known as "down town,"
she dressed herself becomingly and
started on her shopping expedil ion.
On the way thoughts of her new
dress ran through her mind. She
intended to wear it on an occasion
whioh to her seemed very important. Some one was to be present
whose opinion she valued-—some
one she herself admired very much.
Did he admire heif .
She had asked herself the question over and over again. She had
even pulled away the petals of a
marguerite one by one, counting
them as they fell with the words:
"He loves—lie loves me not." And
there were to be many handsome
girls present, and she was not vain.
Oh! she most look as well as possible.
Thus absorbed, she suddenly
found herself several blocks below
her destination. There was nothing for it bnt walk back, and the
way lay throngh streets filled with
miserable tenement houses. The
fashionable girl.harried aloug until all at once, she found a sort of
barricade across the street. The
middle object of this barrieade was
a sewiug machine, to which, on
one side, clung a woman; on the
other, a man. Tbe woman was
crying; the tears splashed down on
her hands. An attendant crowd
of residents contemplated this
scene with evident interest, and
Emma Borne became, perforce,oue
of their number.
Scarcely ever in her life before
had Emma Borne been in close
contact with actual misery. Poor,
to her, simply meant not rich. Now
she was amongst rags and dirt and
misery, forced to stand still for a
moment aud look at it. The first
emotion it excited was disgust.
But as she was about to seek a
passage through the squalid crowd,
words fell upon her ear that attracted her attention.
"Forty dollars I've paid you on
that machine, and now you'll not
give me time. I only ask time. I'm
an honest woman. I'll pay you.
Man, do yon know it's all there is
between us and actual starvation?
Let :ne have the thing back. It's
but ten dollars I owe you."
"You've owed tbat two months,"
replied the man. "Come, let go,
missus. I don't waut to hart yoa.
I've got to obey orders. -Money
or the machine,' was what the boss
said."
But the woman did not relinquish her hold. Still clutching the
machine, she turned her agonizing
eyes upon the bystanders.
"Forty dollars," she repeated,
"and the machine but fifty, aud
he's taking it. I never failed until Jim broke his leg, and his work
stopped, and his wages with it,
and I'd doctor bills and all."
""No, that she didn't," cried a
voice from tbe crowd. "I'm knowing to honesty-"
"And he'd better be off with his
cart," cried a mau who had stalked out of the entry of the house
near which the crowd had gathered, rolling up his sleeves.
"Look here, good people,"1 exclaimed the man who held the machine, "I dou't want to do this. 1
obey orders or lose my place, and
my bread and batter. She'd better go to the boss and talk to him
—not to me."
"I've been," said   the woman.
"He's made of stone. I told him
he'd starve us. He will. There,
] what is the use of fighting like a
drunken body in tbe street—a decent woman! They've more than
the worth of the thing now, God
knows; bat they've the power.
Take it." And she let go her hold
and covered her eyes with her
hands.
But, in the place of these rough,
red fingers, others, dainty and
small, and well gloved, came down
on the cover of .tiie machine.   Em
ma Borne had pressed forward, and
now spoke:
"Stop," said she. -'Will yon let
this woman keep her machine if I
pay you ten dollars?"
'-Them's the boss's orders, Miss"
replied the man, "and I'd be glad
to do it, too."
Then, while the crowd gathered
close, aad the woman who had told
the piteous tale sobbed with joy,
Emma drew the sum named from
her parse, received a receipt, whieh
she gave to the poor woman, and
experiencedjfor the first time the
delight which the performance of
an utterly unselfish act brings with
it.
Moreover, when the machine had
been borne up stairs, Emma, who
had exchanged a few words with
its owner, followed her to her miserable room, noted its poverty,
heard all the bitter tale. It was
a true one—the hot tears told
that.
"But I don't mind anything now,
.■"diss," sobbed the narrator. '-"Now
the machine is my very own. I
don't mind how hard I work. And
the only great tug is the landlord
—four dollars a month for rent."
"As much a month as a yard of
that trimming," thought Emma,
with a little pang."
She questioned the woman further, and found that her landlord
"lived down stairs." And before
she turned from the door she had
emptied her purse and had paid
three months' rent in advance.
"Tour husband will be well and
at work by that time," she said;
and there were no regrets for the
lost fringe as she took her way
homeward. Nay, she was not even stung to the soul when Madam
Farine remarked, with a glance
that said volumes:
"The back lace from your old
grenadine dress? Certanly, since it
is your taste."
The dress, however, was not
unbecoming, despite tbe refurbished lace, and Emma wore it to the
party. She was quite conscious
that every woman of her acquaintance knew what the dress was trimmed with, but her conscience whispered to her that she had done
right. Moreover, the light of tbe
better thought was on her face.
Somehow Arthur Maine found himself more than ever before attracted by it, and as she drove home
that night, Emma felt the mar-
querite which had said to her "he
loves" had been no false prophet.
She had learned two lessons in a
little while. One that the poor
might be clothed aud fed from the
trimmings of the rich; the other,
that extravagance in dress never
yet won any man's heart. She
never forgot either.—Oxford Kress.
RUSSIAN  HABITS.
The Bawlins county (Kan.) fanner refuses to sell his corn because
he can get only 8 cents a bushel
for it. He burns it in preference
because coal is worth 30 cents a
bushel. He also lives in a sod
house because lumber is worth $32
a thousand and the result is he
is getting neb.
In Lawrence, Kansas, the
churches have a system of interchangeable girls. When oue
church gives an entertainment
each of the other churches lends a
girl or so to help the festivities
along. This secures tbe floating
trade of a dozen or so young men
who are attached to no church but
who are attached to the girls.
papeb in.
Bussia has more than one million
men in her navy and standing
army. The question will arise in
the mind of those who are not acquainted with Bussian habits,
where does the Emperor secure
men to keep up this multitude, and
why do so many men go to this
army where their life is devoid of
all that is pleasant?
But then it is not a matter of
choice whether you will go to the
army, or whether yoa will stay at
home. It is not like soldier life ia
this country. Here if yoa did not I
wish to go and join the standing
army you would not be compelled
to. But in Bussia every able-bodied young man is impressed into
tbe service whether he wishes to
or not. Tbe laws of Bussia make
it compulsory. Imagine if you
can how oue mast feel when he arrives at this age when he mast
leave his quiet home, brothers, sis*
ters, parents, and all his friends
and go to this place of slavery and
stay for five long years. Leaving
home for five years can be better
imagined than described. When
the young man of the United
States leaves home for a short
time to attend school, how long
the time seems to him, until re can
be at home again. But in the
standing army he must stay until
the time limited has expired.
Then he may return to his friends
again. But he often finds his home
sadly changed after so long an absence.
Besides being cruelly treated
while in the army he is losing all
his advautages, either to secure an
education or to learn any kind of a
trade. It makes no difference how
bad one is needed at home by his
parents. If a young man should
be the only support of his parents,
let them be as poor as tbey can be,
he must leave them and go into the
service. This is one of the cruelest
features of the Bussian army.
If a man has been raised in Bus-
sia, and is of Bussian parentage,
he can escape much of jtbe cruel
treatment. But there are -many
Hebrews in the standing army and
if they do not understand tbe Bussian language they are compelled
to learn it, and if they are not
quick in acquiring it they are most
cruelly abused. They are often
whipped and sometimes they are
compelled-to do without food as
punishment for offenses. How
glad the young man of this country ought to be that he has such
mild laws to live under.
Philip aaeon.
The young mau who, while he
makes one dollar, spends a dollar
and one cent is on tbe sure road
either to bankruptcy or the penitentiary.
. .     a» % aaj     a .
A polite man is oue who listens
with interest to things he knows
all about, when thoy are told by a
person who knows nothing about
(hem.
■ ■ . .     #aj.<sa, , , ,
The best thing about a girl is
cheerfulness. No matter bow ruddy her cheeks may be, or how velvety her lips—if she wears a scowl
even her friends will consider her
ill-looking, while the young lady
who illuminates her countenance
with smiles will be regarded as
handsome, though her complexion
be coarse. As perfume is to the
nose, so is good nature to the lovely. .
„_S