Pike County Democrat, Volume 28, Number 45, Petersburg, Pike County, 18 March 1898 — Page 3

Slit fifct <£ountg Jrmomt M. MeC. STOOPS, Editor »nd Proprietor. PETERSBURG. • - INDIANA \ Widdles Gets Revenue. \ _ * Exordia an Impromptu Devil from the / ► Kitchen Range. ► WIDDLES, baptized William Dean Leslie, sat on the end of the (kitchen table furthest from Martha and •whimpered. Martha, -with her black fare set in glum determination, re„garded Widdles not, bi|t pounded the dron down on the blue and white shirt waist that was stretched on the padded ‘board before her. With a thump and a .•gentle hiss of steam from the damp •shirt the iron wiggled from collar to waistband and back again. The smell -of linen not quite scorched filled the kitchen. “Please. Martha,” whined Widdles, •**1 think you might.” “Bump, bump, bump," went Martha's Iron on the blue shirt waist. Her face grew even sterner. “Just one; one little bit of a doughnut, Martha,” he pleaded. “I won't ask for another, honest. Just one.” Martha straightened the shirt waist ■on the board with an angry twist. She turned her head toward Widdles, and when he saw how angry she was he was almost, but not quite, frightened. “You chile,” she said, “I wish to goodness gracious sakes alive you'd stay out of this kitchen and go on into the house with white folks, where you belong.” (That the kitchen was under the same roof with the rest of the Leslie house •did not shake Martha's loyalty to the traditions of the plantation, where it w-as always out Of the kitchen into the Louse.) “I ain't got no time to traffic with you for doughnuts nor no such kind of appurtenances. Go on outer here.”

vuaaies swung ms ieei, loosed nun, And wisely kept his peace. “1 don’ know what’s took your ma. 8he think I can do three days’ wash in one day, and cook for you all, too, and then sends the chillen down here to fuss round and keep getting in my way and hollering. ‘Martha, give me a doughnut.- Please Martha! Just one.’ It’s ‘Martha, give me this and that and run here and,there an’ fix my collar and tie my shoes’ till I’m plumb tired, and I ain’t goin’ to stand it. ’Peed 1 ain’t. Miss Jane ci|.n keep her chillen out of here, or else -I go, that’s all. ’Deed I ain’t going to stand it. I’m going to tell her so.” She went to the door which opened on i the kitchen stairs. “You, Miss Jane.” she called. Middles noted with tremendous satisfaction that Martha kept her voice so low that his mother in the sewing room at the other side of the house could not possibly hear her. “You. Miss Jane, make this.here chile get out of mv kitchen. Take him out of here or I'll break his worthless back with a fire shovel. I got too much to do here. You cot a nurse for your chillen; why ain’t she take :are of them, like she’s paid to do?" With a theatrical scowl at Middles ahe closed the door and returned to the •ironing board. “Te^ny pushed me off the front steps yesterday,” said M’iddles, still whimpering. Teeny was the nurse. The iron lumped less vigorously. “It almost broke my arm.” continued «the small boy. “My arm’s awful sore. Teeny’s awful mean sometimes.” Martha looked at him in shrewd snspi--ijpn. He returned her look with one of Wide-eyed, grieved innocence and rubbed his elbow tenderly.

“Why ain't you said nothing' about four arm before?" she demanded. “It's just begun to hurt again,” he sahl. lie rubbed the elbow more asliduousiy. his face puckered with uj>>arent pain. Martha carried her iron to the stove, took the big brass key of the pantry door from her apron pocket and started across the room. A ghost of a smile Jilted over the corners of Widdles* mouth, lie ceased to rub his eibow. There «as a glitter of gleeful triumph ;n his eye. He made no sound, but the woman wheeled on him as though he had laughed out loud. He grimaced spasmodically in the effort to recover his look of inquiry and pain, but it was too late. Markka'darted at him with outstretched, clutching hands. "You,” she howled, “you. you limb of Satan.” Widdles dropped from the tabic aid wiggled under it. Now he was on the opposite side of tin* ironing board from Martha. She ran around the chair on i which one end of the board rested. He dodged under the b >ard and caught the edge of the pan of boiled starch on the ; table. :t . • “You leave me ’lone.” he chuckled, j *or Fit throw this starch ou the door." Martha stood with hex big fists resting on the white ironing board and .glared at him. “You is the devil's own child. Ton tint none of Miss Jane’s- chillen,” «*he sniffed with rage. “ *My p<ire sore j arm,’ ” she whined in wrathful satire j -on his pleading tone “ ‘Martha, please ! to give me a doughnut and make tor pore arm well. Teeny done tbuse me .-shameful'and.you the only true friend I got left,’ Go on, child. Deceitful, j -falsifier, devil!’ Widdles calmly held the starch pan poised over the floor. "Will you leave me alone," he demanded. “Oh, go on: child,” she answered ^scornfully. “1 ain’t bothering my head with you. I got too much to do." She bent«over the ironing again. “1 got better things to fill my time than trafficking with devil-children. ’Deed is L It’s

a wonder to me the Old Nick don’t const right on out of the range and git you.” Widdles placed the atarchpan on tho table and walked thoughtfully to the range. He contemplated the red-hot spaces between the flatirons thought* fully. “Come out, dieMl!” he said, calmly, and looked over his shoulder at Martha. If she heard him she gave no sign. “Come out, devil!” He raised his voice this time. * Martha slowly turned her head and regarded him with mingled* rage and suspicion. “Devil,” he said, “if you are in the stove, come out!” “You, boy!” she cried, angrily, “come away from that stove.” Widdflss waved his hand in a commanding gesture. “You leave me alone,” he said. “I’m not talking to you. Devil in the stove, I say, come out!” ■ “Boy! You! Mars Willy!” Martha was thoroughly scared now. She was jabbering in her fright. “Don’t, please, sir, don’t talk that way. Y'ou don’t know what you’re doing. Stop ix! I say. Slop it!” Widdles grew pale a little, but he” planted his feet further apart and thrust his-hands deep'into his tiny trousers pockets. “Come, devil,” he said. Martha threw open the door that led on the stairway. “Miss June!” she screamed, as loud “as her lungs would let ^er. This was no sham calling now. “Miss Jane! Oh, Miss Jane! Come on down here. Come on! The devil have got Mars Willy 1 Murder! Help!” In the corner of his trousers pocket Widdles gasped an object smooth and hard. As he reflected,.divided between persistence in his conjuring and flight before his mother’s wrath, he drew it out. It was a brass pistol cartridge which he had stolen from his father's bureau drawer a week before, A fiendish griu overspread his face. Martha’s cries ceased for the moment; she was listening.* Upstairs he heard the tramping of running feet. “Devil, devil, devil!” he screamed in his highest treble, “come out!” Amid an uproar of renewed calls for his mother from Martha he set the cart- ! ridge on the stove, fiat end down, and scuttled out the back door, lie had 1 scarcely reached the middle of the yard j when Martha’s shouts were interrupted j by a tremendous report.

“Pang! it went, and in another instant the kitchen windows were clouded inside with smoke. Then came shrieks and screams and prayers for mercy and the crash of tipped-over tabies and falling' c!othc„s racks. “O Lord,” he heard Martha.*hout. intoning as though she were praying. “O Lord, save this poor nigger now. Just ’cause white folks ask for devil | to come, don’t. Lord, let him take me, too. i ain’t in it! ’Peed, Lord, it weren’t my doings. O I ord! Lord!” In a moment the kitchen door burst i open and she tumbled down the steps : and lay in a heap at the bottom, moani ing. Smoke drifted out of the door bei hind her. The side of her dress was ' splashed with starch, and one of Will

HE RUBBED HIS ELBOW TENDERLY. dies* stockings was around her throat; she was knotting it closer by pulling at it convulsively. Her red turban hung by one corner to the knot of hair at the back of her head. The whites of her eyes were as big as saucers. He heard his mother floundering about in the kitchen, and as the smoke inside j gathered near the ceiling he could see that she was picking her way through a tangle like the picture of an Indian jungle in his geography. He began to j laugh. Martha, on the ground outside, i sat bolt upright at the sound and stared i at him. "How you come here, boy?" she said, in a strange, unnatural voice, “do on; j don’t come back here. Leave a poor old ! nigger woman be. She ain’t done you j uo harm.*’ His mother came to the door and j looked down at Martha. "What in the world is the matter, Martha?" she askfd. Martha raised her arm and pointed i straight at Widdies. “Why, Widdies,” said his mother, “what is it?” ^Just then there was a clatte. at the side of the house and a policeman ran around the corner and almost into I Martha l»efore he could stop himself. Behind the policeman were a dozen men with rubber coats on. Some had axes in their hands. They also had hata with broad brims hanging down their backs: so Widdies knew that they were firemen. They all looked at Martha, sitting at the bottom of the steps. Tehn'they looked at Widdies. at whom her arm still pointed. Widdies pouted. “Why didn't she give me a doughnut ?"—X. Y. Sun. —At a stylish cotillion party in London. live pet* were presented to tha female dancers. They comprised Maltese and Angora cats in silk-lined baskets. terriers in neat wicker receptacles and canaries in gilded cages.

MARTYRDOM OF STEPHEN Rev. Dr. Talmage Presents a Series of Five Pictures. Stephen Looking Into Heaven—Stephen Looking at Christ—Stephen Stoned —Stephen In His Dying Prayer—Stephen Asleep. The following sermon by Rev. T. DeVVitt Talmage is selected for delivery to the great congregation throughout the land. The subject is the martyrdom of Stephen, being based on the text: Behold I see the heavens opened, etc.—Acts viL, »-ea Stephen had been preaching a rousing sermon, and the people could not stand it. They resolved to do as men sometimes would like to do in this day, if they dared, \vith some plain preacher of righteousness—kill him. The only way to silence this man was to knock the breath out of him. So they rushed Stephen out of the gates of the city, and with curse and whoop and bellow they brought him to the cliff, as was | the eustorn when they wanted to take j away life by stoning. Having brought him to the edge of the cliff, they pushed him off. After he had fallen they came and looked down, and seeing that ; he was not yet dead they began to drop stones upon him, stone after stone. Amid this horrible rain of missiles, I Stephen clambers lip on his knees and ! folds his hands, while the blood drips from his temples to his cheeks, and from his cheeks to his garments, from his garments to the ground; and then, looking up, he makes two prayers— one for himself and one for his murderers. “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit;” that was for himself. “Lord, lay not | this sin to their charge;” that was for his assailants. Then, from pain and loss of blood, he swooned away and fell asleep. I want to show you to-day five pictures. Stephen gazing into Heaven looking at Christ. Stephen stoned. Stephen in his dying .prayer. Stephen asleep. First, look at Stephen getting into Heaven, before you take a leap you want to know where you are going to land. Before you climb a ladder you I want to know to what point the ladder ! reaches. Anu it was right that Stei phen, within a few moments of lleav- ! en, should be gazing into it. We j wculd all do well to be found in the

I aauiu puaimc. tucic id aiuu^u xu 1 Heaven to keep us gazing. A man of large wealth may have statuary iu the hall, and paintings in the sitting room, and works of art in all parts of the house, but he has the chief pictures in the art gallery, and there hour after hour you walk with catalogue and glass and ever-increasing admiration. Well, Heaven is the gallery where God had gathered-the chief treasures of His realm. The whole universe is His palace. In this lower room where we stop there are many adornments; tessellated floor of amethyst, and on the winding cloud-stairs are stretched out canvasses on which commingle azure, and pmrple, and saffron, and gold. But Heaven is the gallery in which the chief glories are gathered. There are the brightest robes. There are the richest crowns. There are t he highest exhilarations. John saj-s of it: "The kings of the earth shall bring their honor and glory into it.” And I see the procession forming, and iu the line come all empires, and the stars spring up into an arch for the hosts to march under. The hosts keep step to the sound of earthquake and the pitch of avalanche from the mountains, and the flag they bear is the3 flame of a consuming world, and all Heaven turns out with harps and trumpets and myriad-voiced acclamation of angelic dominion to welcome them in, and so the kings of the earth bring their honor and glory into it. Do you wonder that good people often stand, like Stephen, lookft**J into Heaven? We have many friends there.

l nere is not a man m tnts nouse today so isolated in life but there is some one in Heaven with whom he onee shook hands. As a man gets older, the number of his celestial acquaintances very rapidly multiplies. We have not had one glimpse of them since the night we kissed them good-by, and they went away; but still we stand gazing at Heaven. As when some of our friends go across the sea, we stand on the dock, or on the steam tug. and watch them, and after awhile the hull of the vessel disappears, and then there is only a patch of sail on the sky, and soon that is gone, and they are all out of sight, and yet we stand looking in the same direction; so when our friends go away from us into the future worlds we keep looking down through the Narrows) and gazing and gazing, as though we expected that they would come out and stand on some cloud, and give us one glimpse of their blissful and transfigured faces. While you long to join their companionship. and tl^e years and the day s go with such tedium that they break your heart, and the viper of pain and sorrow and bereavement keeps gnawing at your vitals, you stand still, like Stephen, gazing into Heaven. You wonder if they have changed since you saw them last You wonder if they would recognize your face now,, so changed has it been with trouble. Yon wonder if, among the myriads delights they have, they care as much for you as they used to when they gave you a helping hand and put their shoulder under your burdens. You wonder if they look any older ; and sometime in the eveningtide, when the house is aU fuiet. you. wonder if you should call them by their first name if they would not answer; and perhaps sometimes you make the experiment, and when no one bulJlod and,yourself are there you distinctly call their names and listen, and sit gazing into Heaven. Pass on now, and see Stephen looking upon Christ. My text says he saw the Son of Man at the right hand of God. Just how Christ looked in this world, just how He looks in Heaven, we can not say. A writer in the time of Christ mya, describing the Saviour's personal

appearance, that He t id blue eyes and light complexion, and a very graceful structure; but I sup x>se it was all guesswork. The pairters of the different ages hare tried to imagine the i features of Christ anc put them upon canvas; but we will have to wait until with our own eyes ve see Him and with our own eyes w< can hear Him. And yet there is a way of seeing and hearing Him now/. I have to tell you that unless you set and hear Christ on earth you will nev ;r see and hear Him in Heaven. Look! There He is. Behold the Lamb of Gt d. Can you not see Him? Then pray to God to take the scales off your eyes. Look that way—try to look that ray. His voice comes down to you i his day—comes down to the blindest, to the deafest soul, saying: “Look unto Me, all ye ends of the earth, and >e ye saved, for I am God, and there is none else.” Proclamation of un iversal emancipation for all slaves. Proclamation of universal amnesty for all rebels. Belshazzar gathered the Babylonish nobles to his table; George I. entertained the lords of England at a banquet; Napoleon III. welcomed the czar of Russia and the sultan of Turi key to his feast; the emperor of Germany was glad to have our minister, George Bancroft, sit down with him at his table; but tell me, ye who know most of the world’s history, what other | king ever asked the abandoned and the ! forlorn and the wretched and the out- | cast to come and sit beside him? Oh, wonderful invitation! You can take it to-day. and stand at the head of j the darkest alley in any city, aud say: “Come! Clothes for your rags, salve l for your sores, a throne for your eterI nal reigning.” A Christ that talks like that, and acts like that, and pardons like that—do you wonder that | Stephen stood looking at Him? I hope ] to spend eternity doiug the same thing. I ! I must see Him; I must look upon that j face, once clouded with my sin, but j now radiant with my pardon. I want to touch that hand that knocked off I my shackles. I want to hear that | voice which pronounced my deliverance. Behold Him, little children, for if you live to three-score years and ten, you will see none so fair. Behold Him. ye aged ones, for He only can shine through the dimness of your failing eyesight. Behold Him. earth. Bej hold Him. Heaven. What a moment ! when all the nations of the saved shall j j gather around Christ! All faces that j way. All thrones that way, gazing on Jesus.

Hus worth tf all the nat.ons knew. ^ Sure the whole earth would love Him. too. I pass on now. and look at Stephen stoned. The world has always wanted to get rid of good men. Their very life is an assault upon wickedness. Out with Stephen through the gates of the city, i >wn with him over the precipice. Let every man come up and drop a stone upon his head. But these ! men did not so much kill Stephen as j they killed themselves. Every stone rebounded upon them. While these murderers were transfixed by the scorn of all good men. Stephen lives in the | admiration of all Christendom. Ste- , phen stoned, but Stephen alive. So all ! good men must be pelted. All who j live godly in Christ Jesus must I suffer persecution. It is no . eulogy of a man to say that everybody likes him. Show me anyone who is doing all his duty to state or church and I will show you men who utterly abhor him. If all men speak well of you, it is because you are either a laggard or a dolt. If a steamer makes a rapid progress through the waves, the water will boil and foam all around it. Brave soldiers of Jesus Christ will hear ^he carbines click. When 1 see a man with voice, and money, and influence all on the right side, and some caricature him, and some sneer at him, and some denounce, him, and men who pretend to be actuated by right motives conspire to cripple him. to cast ! him out, to destroy him. Isay: "Stephen ■ stoned/’

When f[ see a man in some great] or religibus refprrn battling against j grog-shops, exposing wickedness in ' high places, by active means trying to [ purify the church and better the ; world's estate, and I find that some newspapers anathematize him, and ] men, even good men, oppose him and j denounce him. because, though he does i good; he does not do it in their way, I { say: “Stephen stoned." The world. I with infinite spite, took after John j Frederick Oberlin. and Paul, and j Stephen of the text. llut you notice, ] my friends, that while they assaulted j him they did not succeed really in kill- j ing him. You may assault a good man, j but you can not kill him. On the day of his death Stephen spoke before a few people in the «san- ' hedrim; now he addresses all Christen- j dom. Paul the Apostle stood on Mars ; Hill addressing a handful of philosophers who knew not so much about j science as a modern school-girl. To- ; day he talks to all the millions of j j Christendom about the wonders of jus- | tification and the glories of resurrec- i tion. John Wesley was howled down ] by the mob to whom he preached, and ] they threw bricks at him. and they denounced him. and they jostled him. and they spat upon him. and yet today. in all lands, he is admitted to be the great father of Methodism, booth's i bullet vacated the presidential chair; but from that spot of eoajulated blood on the floor in the box of Ford’s theater there sprang up the new life of a nation. Stephen stoned, but Stephen alive. Pass on now and see Stephen in his dying prayer. His first thought was 1 not how the stones hurt his head, nor | what would become of his body. His first thought was about his spirit. “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” The murderer standing on the trap-door, the black cap being drawn over his head before the execution, may grimace about the future, but you and 1 have no shame in confessing some anxiety about where we are going to come out. Yon are not all body. There is within yonasonL 1 see it gleam from your eyes, and 1 see it irradiating your countenance. Sometimes I am abashed before an audience, not

because I come under their physical eyesight, but because I realize the truth that I stand before so many immortal spirits. The probability is that your body will at last find a sepulcher in some of the cemeteries that surround your town or city. There Is no doubt but that your obsequies will be decent and respectful, and you wim be able to pillow your head under the maple, or the Norway spruce, or the cypress or the blossoming fir; but this spirit about which Stepheu prayed, what direction will that take? What guide will escort it? What gate will open to receive it? What cloud will be cleft for its pathway? After it has got beyond the light of our sun. will there be torches lighted for it the rest of the way? Will the soul have to travel through long deserts before it reaches the good, land? If we should! lose our pathway, will there be a castle at whose gate we may ask the way to the city? It has two wings, but it is in a cage now. It is locked fast to keep it; but let the door of this cage open the least,; and that son! is off. Eagle’s wing could not catch it. The lightnings are not swift enough to take up with it. When the soul leaves the body it takes fifty worlds at a bound. And have I no anxiety about it? Have you no anxiety about it? I do not eare what you do with my body when my soul is gone, or whether you believe in cremation or inhumation. I shall sleep just as well in a wrapping of sackcloth as in satin lined with eagle's down. But my soul, before this day passes, I will find out where it will land. Thank God for the intimation of my text that when we die Jesus takes us. That answers all questions for me. What though there were massive bars oetween here and the City of Light, Jesus could remove them. What though there were great Saharas of darkness, Jesus could illume them. What though I get weary 6f the way, Christ could lift me on His omnipotent shoulder. What though there were chasms to cross, HisJfand could transport me. Then lef Stephen’s prayer be my dying litany: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” It may be that in that hour we will be too feeble to say a long prayer. It may be in that hour we will not be able to say the "Lord's Prayer,” for it has seven petitions. Perhaps we may be too. feeble even to say the infant prayer our mothers taught us, which John Quincy Adams. 70 years of age, said every night when he put his head upon his pillow:

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. We may be too feeble to employ either of these familiar forms; but tihis prayer of Stephen is < *> short, is so concise, is so earnest, is so comprehensive, we surely will be able to say that: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,’’ Oh, if that prayer is answered, how sweet it will be to die! This world is clever enough to us. Perhaps it has treated us a great deal better than we deserve to be treated; but if on the dying pillow there should break the light of that better world* we shall have no more regret about leaving a small, dark, damp house for one large, beautiful and capacious. That dying minister in Philadelphia, some years ago, beautifully depicted it, when in the last moment he threw up his hands and-cried out: “I move into the light!' Pass on now and I will show you one more picture, and that is Stephen asleep. With a pathos and simplicity peculiar to the Seriptures, the text says1 of Stephen: “He fell asleep.” “Oh,” j’ou say, “what a place that was toi sleep! A hard roek under him, stones falling down upon him, the blood streaming, the mob howling. What a place it was to sleep!’! And yet my text takes that symbol of slumber to describe his departure, so sweet was it, sc contented was it. sp peaceful was it. Stephen had lived, a very laborious life. Ilis chief work had been to care for the poor. How many loaves of bread he distributed, how many bare feet he had sandaled, how many cots of sickness and distress he blessed with ministries of kihdness and love, I do not know, but from the way he lived, and the way he preached, and the way he died, I know , he was U laborious Christian. Hut

that is ail over now. lie has pressed the eup to the last fainting lip. lie has taken the last insult from his enemies. The last stone to whose crushing weight he is susceptible has been hurled. ^Stephen is deadl The diseiples come. 'They take him up. They wash away the blood from the wounds. They straighten out the bruised limbs.: They brush back the tangled hair from the brow, and then they pass around to look upon the calm countenance of him who had lived for the poor and died for the u ath. Stephen asleep! Stephen asleep! I saw such an one. lie fought ail his days against poverty and against abuse. They traduced hi* name. They rattled at the door knob while he was dying, with duns for debts he could not pay; yet the peace of God brooded over his pillow, and while the world faded, Heaven dawned, and the deepening twilight of earth's night was only the opening twilight of Heaven's morn. Not a sigh. Not a tear. Not a struggle! Hush! Sb» phen asleep! Asleep in Jesus, blessed, sleep. From which qpne ever wake to weep* A calm and undisturbed repose. Uninjured by the last of foes. Asleep In Jesus, far from thee Thy kindred and their graves may he; But there is still a blessed gleep. From which none ever wake to weep. You have seen enough for one morning. No one can successfully examine more than fire pictures in a day. Therefore we stop, having seen this cluster of divine Raphaels—Stephen gazing into Heaven; Stephen looking at Christ; Stephen stoned; Stephen in his dying prayer; Stephen asleep. JPorpoae In Life. We can not have a good soul without a great purpose in life and vice versa. There is no great purpose in this life without it is backed by a great heart.— Rev. A. R. Caudry, Disciple, Counci’ UlufEs, la.

THE RUSH ABOUT OVER. Sudajr Quiet Again Prevails at the Navy Varda and at the Government Arsenals— Whatever Contracts Occasioned the Unusual Scenes «t Activity Seem to Have Been Completed—The Work at Cramps* Shipyard. Phu.adei.phia, March 14.—There waa a general absence at League Island navy yard yesterday of the unusual activity which prevailed last Sunday, and the Sunday previous. A few workmen were busy about the yard and aboard the ships, but their work was of a finishing up character. The Miantonomah, Katahdin. Minneapolis and Columbia are now all but ready to sail within a day or two, if so ordered, and whatever additional repairs toay be necessary can be attended to en route. A few more men are needed for the Katahdin and Minneapolis and a detachment of marines, under Lieut. Puller, are expected shortly to complete the Columbia's complement. All.the war ships are coaled and have most of their stores aboard, and about all that remains to be done how is to I replenish their stock of ammunition. I This will be done at the government ! magazine, a short distance below the navy yard, and all the vessels will then be ready for sailing at a moment's notice. The Columbia is anchored in the river, and as soon as her marines arrive will steam to the magazine. The government tug Leyden is expected to-day or to-morrow and will tow a large barge load of coal to Key West. It is reported that the government is negotiating for the purchase of a number of large barges in this city to be used for carrying coal and ! supplies. The work of recruiting landsmen, ordinary seamen and machinists will continue until further orders. There has been a rush of applicants for the army and marine branches of the service all week, but the officers in charge are accepting only those who pass a most rigid examination. In consequence only a few are being chosen, and these are men who come up to every requirement. Comparative quiet also prevailed at the other establishments in this vicinity capable of executing government work; The officials. of the Midvale steel works are always reticent about work going on .there, but from other sources it was learned that extra forces of men have lately been working on projectiles.

No Sunda3r work is under way at the Frankford arsenal. Last week an order was received there to work ten hours a day, hut whatever contract wa)s involved has probably been completed, for the order was rescinded Saturday night. The average daily output of cartridges there is 33,000 ., rounds, but during the ten-hour day this could be increased by from 3,000 to 10,000. ' . It is the only arsenal in the United States where small ammunition is made. The number of employes has been gradually increased of late to from 600 to 700 workmen. At the Schuylkill arsenal nothing was going on. This arsenal merely makes clothing and tents for the regular army, and sometimes for the state militia, and it employs about 90 persons. There was work yesterday at Cramps’ shipyard, but it was on the new Klondike steamers Indiana and Pennsylvania. Nothing was being done on the battleship Alabama or the Japanese cruiser Kasagi. PROMISED A BIG CONTRACT. Unas oral Activity at the Carpenter Steel Works. Reading, Pa., March 14.—The promise of a contract for projectiles, amounting to over 81,000,000, to the Carpenter Steel works, kept the entire plant in unusual activity yesterday. Work was pushed all along the line on projectiles in the main plant; on the erection of the three new buildings begun yesterday, and in getting the Diamond Steel Co.'s works (which have been released) into running order. Masons, carpenters, machinists, steel melters and makers and a score of other classes of workmen were on duty, and in two weeks the company will have an increased plant ■ to double .the present capacity and will probably employ 750 men. More shipments will bo jnade to-morrOw by order of government, officials.

WORKING DAY AND NIGHT. - T Murry Order From the Government for Powder for Itis Guns. Wilmington, Del., March 14.—Tho powder works of the E. I. Dupont Do Memours Co. is now working day and night on a government order for hexagonal powder for the big guns. Until a day or two ago only the day force was at work, but it is said that orders from Washington necessitated thb employment of a night force. In addition some of the buildings are being enlarged and more machinery is being put in. There are 26 grinding mills on the place and these are now all running. The daily capacity of the works is said to be ten tons of hexagonal powder. Work is also said to be hurried at the company's plant in New Jersey. XeC Yet Settled. Washington, March 14.—Secretary Long last night made the statement that the matter of the purchase of the two Brazilian ships had not been settled. £ ’ * PREPARED TO MOVE. Soldiers at Western Posts Beady foe Marching Orders. Denver, Col., March 13.—Acting under special orders received from the official in the war department at Washington, the commanding officer at Fort Logan has distributed among the various companies stationed there tents in sufficient numbers to provide them shelter, should they be called to move. The officers have also issued to the soldiers the regulation equipments they will ■ wa4 if called upon to move.