VOL. XIV.

OCEAN CITY, N. J., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1894.

NO. 31.

Ocean City Sentinel.

PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT OCEAN CITY, N. J.,

BY R. C. ROBINSON, Editor and Proprietor.

$1.00 per year, strictly in advance. $1.50 at end of year.

Restaurants. MARSHALL'S DINING ROOMS

FOR LADIES AND GENTS.

No. 1321 Market Street,

Three Doors East of City Hall, PHILADELPHIA.

STRICTLY TEMPERANCE. MEALS TO ORDER FROM 6 A. M. TO 8 P. M. Good Roast Dinners, with three Vegetables, for 25 cents. Turkey or Chicken Dinners, 35 cents. Ladies' Room up-stairs with homelike comforts. PURE SPRING WATER. OPEN ALL NIGHT. BAKERY, 601 S. Twenty-second Street. Ice Cream, Ices, Frozen Fruits and Jellies. Weddings and Evening Entertainments a Specialty. Everything to furnish the table and set free of charge. NOTHING SOLD OR DELIVERED ON SUNDAY.

H. M. Sciple. J. M. Gillespie. H. P. Sayford. H. M. SCIPLE & CO., DEALERS IN Boilers and Engines, Every Size for Every Duty, DUPLEX STEAM PUMPS, Third and Arch Sts., PHILADELPHIA, PA.

WALLACE S. RISLEY, REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENT, 413 MARKET ST., CAMDEN. Properties for sale and to rent. Money to loan on Mortgage. PETER MURDOCH, DEALER IN COAL and WOOD, Ocean City, N. J. Orders left at 806 Asbury avenue will receive prompt attention. D. S. SAMPSON, DEALER IN Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, PUMPS, SINKS, &C., Cor. Fourth Street and West Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Tin roofer and sheet-iron worker. All kinds of Stove Casting furnished at short notice. Gasoline Stoves a specialty. All work guaranteed as represented.

D. GALLAGHER, DEALER IN FINE FURNITURE, 43 South Second Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. L. S. SMITH, CONTRACTOR IN Grading, Graveling and Curbing. PAINTING BY CONTRACT OR DAY. Eighth St. and Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Bakers, Grocers, Etc.

JACOB SCHUFF, (Successor to A. E. Mahan,)

THE PIONEER BAKERY,

No. 706 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Fresh Bread, Pies and Cakes daily. Wedding Cakes a specialty. Orders delivered free of charge. Nothing delivered on Sunday.

Physicians, Druggists, Etc.

DR. J. S. WAGGONER, RESIDENT Physician and Druggist, NO. 731 ASBURY AVENUE, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Pure Drugs, Fine Stationery, Confectionery, Etc., constantly on hand. DR. WALTER L. YERKES, DENTIST, Tuckahoe, N. J. Will be in Ocean City at 656 Asbury avenue every Tuesday. DR. CHAS. E. EDWARDS, DENTIST, Room 12, Haseltine Building, Take Elevator. 1416 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.

Attorneys-at-Law. MORGAN HAND, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW Solicitor, Master and Examiner in Chancery, Supreme Court Commissioner, Notary Public, CAPE MAY C. H., N. J. (Opposite Public Buildings.) LAW OFFICES SCHUYLER C. WOODRULL, 310 Market St., Camden, N. J.

Y. CORSON, DEALER IN FLOUR AND FEED, No. 721 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Contractors and Builders. S. B. SAMPSON, Contractor and Builder, No. 305 Fourth St., Ocean City, N. J. Jobbing promptly attended to. Plans, specifications and working drawings furnished.

JOSEPH F. HAND, ARCHITECT, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER, Ocean City, N. J. Plans, Specifications and Working Drawings furnished. Estimates given on Application. Satisfaction guaranteed.

Nicholas Corson, CARPENTER AND BUILDER, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Plans and Specifications furnished. Buildings put up by contract or day.

G. P. MOORE, ARCHITECT, BUILDER, AND PRACTICAL SLATER, Ocean City, N. J. Best Roofing Slate constantly on hand. Samuel Schurch, PRACTICAL BUILDER, MAY BE FOUND AT Bellevue Cafe, On beach bet. Seventh and Eighth Sts. GEO. A. BOURGEOIS & SON, Carpenters and Builders, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Buildings erected by contract or day.

Plumbers, Steam Fitters, Etc. J. T. BRYAN, Practical Plumber and Gas Fitter No. 1007 Ridge Ave.,

Philadelphia.

Circulating Boilers, Sinks, Bath Tubs, Water Closets, Lead and Iron Pipes, Pumps, Etc., furnished at short notice. Country or City Resi-

dences fitted up in the best manner. Sanitary Plumbing and drainage a specialty. Orders by mail promptly attended to.

Plasterers and Brick-Layers. W. STONEHILL. G. O. ADAMS. STONEHILL & ADAMS, Plastering, Range Setting, Brick Laying, &c. All work in mason line promptly attended to. OCEAN CITY, N. J.

ISRAEL G. ADAMS & CO.,

Real Estate AND Insurance

AGENTS,

Rooms 2, 4 & 6, Real Estate & Law Building,

ATLANTIC CITY, N. J.

Commissioners of Deeds for Penn-

sylvania.

Money to loan on First Mortgage. Lots for sale at South Atlantic City.

McCLURE, HERITAGE & CO., Successors to Finnerty, McClure & Co., DRUGGISTS AND CHEMISTS 112 Market Street, Philadelphia.

Dealers in Pure Drugs, Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Oils, etc.

AN UNLUCKY DEPUTATION. The Villagers Followed the Lead of the Mayor with Ludicrous Consequences.

On one occasion, while on a journey through Italy, the pope halted at a small village, the inhabitants of which resolved to send some of their principal men as a deputation to his holiness. The mayor, who was to head the deputation, pro-

posed to present him with some of the chief produce of the country, consisting of pineapples, figs and cream. It was accordingly arranged that each member should carry some figs and cream in silver basins, the pineapples, however, being dispensed with.

Before setting out the mayor thus addressed his followers: "As you do not

know very well how to conduct your-

selves before exalted personages, you must watch me closely and do as I do."

The procession was formed, with the mayor stalking majestically in front, furnished, like his followers, with a basin of figs in his left hand and another of cream in his right. There was a step down into the room, but the mayor failed to notice it. He stumbled, and the shock sent his face and beard into the cream basin. Trying to recover himself, he only made matters worse, for he fell upon his knees, with his hands and basin under him, and his creamed face raised imploringly to the holy father.

The members of the deputation, thinking that this was the proper ceremony to observe in the presence of such a distinguished personage, dipped their beards in the cream, threw away their vessels and bent down on their knees, at the same time casting a half inquiring and confident look at their leader, as if they meant to say: "You see we are all right. We have carefully followed your example."

The pope was at first astonished, but soon burst into a fit of the most boisterous laughter, while the attendants, thinking that the deputation had come to mock their master, began pelting them with the saturated figs.

The mayor hobbled out of the room, closely followed by his brethren, one of whom whispered to him:

"How lucky it is for us that we did not bring the pineapples! How nicely our heads would have been battered by them!"--London Million.

SUNSET IN THE WOODS.

Here as I lie 'neath shady trees, In [?] sweet and green, The sun's last rays are creeping through And lighting up the shadow scene.

The [?] in the wood sing songs That cheer the sad and gloomy mind. The wood [?] through the trees, And leaves them whispering far behind.

A placid stream runs [?] by, And at [?] The grand old oaks stand close and sway While gazing in its bosom[?] clear.

Through all the wood the glowing lights And [?] of the setting sun And touching leaf and sprig and trunk As o'er the quiet stream they run. A willow leaf comes fluttering down Into its gently flowing tide, A cricket's chirping in the grass Is softly echoing far and wide.

The golden tints on forest leaves Have slowly faded with the day. The shadows in the evening light Grow long and blend and die away. --Charles N. Myers in Detroit Free Press.

ROBERT FISHER, REAL ESTATE AND Insurance Broker, CONVEYANCER, COMMISSIONER OF DEEDS, AND NOTARY PUBLIC.

Agent for the Aetna Life Insurance Company, of Hartford, Connecticut, and some of the oldest and best Fire Insurance Companies of America.

What's the matter with Ocean City? She's booming, that's all. New water supply system; new electric street railroad; electric lights; new hotels; new cottages; new tenants and new guests; everything is on the jump, and Fisher is rushing the business. Call and see him, and put your money in Ocean City before things get up to the top

notch.

Fisher is one of the few pioneers of Ocean City and among its first Real Estate purchasers and Cottagers, intimately associated with all its history and identified with every step of its progress and the operation of its Real Estate, has extraordinary opportunities for the transaction of all kinds of Real Estate and Insurance business.

FOR RENT--Having very extensive and influential connections, he has superior advantages in bringing those who have properties to rent and those who require them together, and at present has some of the finest cottages and other houses on his books at liberal prices. FOR SALE--Long experience and personal dealing in Real Estate has made him expert in values of both improved and unimproved property. Occasionally even in such a prosperous town as ours some one wants to change or get out. Then we help them by helping some one else to a bargain. From Ocean front to Bay, and all between, you can be suited with fine corners or central building lots. A few cottages, new and well built, now offered at cost. Write for information of the Lot Club. Headquarters for every househunter and investor, Fisher's Real Estate Office, the most prominent corner in Ocean City. Insurances placed on most advantageous terms in best companies. For any information on any subject connected with any business enterprise write freely to

Robert Fisher, Ocean City, N. J.

TREATMENT BY INHALATION! 1529 Arch St., Philad'a, Pa. For Consumption, Asthama, Bronchitis, Dyspepsia, Catarrh, Hay Fever, Headache, Debility, Rheumatism, Neuralgia, And all Chronic and Nervous Disorders. It has been in use for nearly a quarter of a century. Thousands of patients have been treated, and more than 1000 physicians have used it and recommended it. It is agreeable. There is no nauseous taste, nor aftertaste, nor sickening smell.

We give below a few of the great number of testimonials which we are constantly receiving from those who have tried it, published with the express permission in writing of the patients.

"Please accept my sincere gratitude for the restored life of happiness and health and vigor and usefulness that the Compound Oxygen has certainly given me.

"While I was always considered to be a healthy child, I was known to be dyspeptic from babyhood. It was inherited. For two years I was confined almost constantly to the lounge. For more than four years I did not know a moment free from pain. All this time dyspepsia continued its ravages, except when temporarily relieved, and aggravated other serious disorders.

My friends and physicians thought I would not recover. To-day I am entirely cured of dyspepsia, can enjoy articles of food that I never dared use before in all my life. For the past year I have been up and going in ease and health, with sufficient vigor to take some part in domes- tic work of the most laborious nature. As my strength continues to improve, since leaving off Oxygen, I feel that I can conscientiously recommend the treatment, not only to cure (provided the doctors' directions are observed), but to be lasting in its beneficial effects. "MISS JAMIE MAGRUDER, "Oak Hill, Florida."

"The Oxygen Treatment you sent me for C. O. Harris, a year ago, one of my missionaries from West Africa, whose life was in jeopardy on account of lung trouble and a severe cough, he now testifies has greatly benefited him. He has entirely recovered his health, married a wife, returned to his work in Africa, and taken his wife with him. Bishop WILLIAM TAYLOR, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y.

"Compound Oxygen..Its Mode of Action and Results" is the title of a book of 200 pages published by Drs. Starkey & Palen, which gives to all inquirers full information as to this remarkable curative agent, and a record of surprising cures in a wide range of cases--many of them after being abandoned to die by other physicians. Will be mailed free to any address on application. Drs. STARKEY & PALEN, 1529 Arch St., Philadelphia. 120 Sutter St., San Francisco, Cal. Please mention this paper.

A Good Way.

"Will you oblige me with your autograph?" asked a bore[?] of a busy public man.

"Certainly," replied the public man. "Just make out a check for $10 payable to my order. I will indorse it cheerfully, and in due time, you may be sure, it will come back to you safely through your bank."--Somerville Journal.

"JACOB AND ME." "Me" was Rupert, and it was early in the summer that he begged to have his hair cut.

"It's so hot and tickly and tangly and boversome, and I'm old enough to look like a boy," he said, which was true. His mother put her arms around him--they were sitting in the big wicker chair by the parlor window--and held him as if she would never let him go.

"I want my baby as he is," she said, which was also true. There was a little silence. It was a low, little room, full of quiet and half darkness. There were some well filled bookshelves, well chosen pictures, just enough pretty and more or less worn rugs and cushions and a bowl of garden roses on a low table. The child leaned his head against his mother's shoulder, the despised hair a bright tangle against her dark gown and gazed adoringly into her face, but she was looking out of the window across the meadow, where the black trees and the slender spire of St. Michael and All Angels were clearly defined against the cool twilight sky.

There was a churchyard around St.t Michael's, but it was in the shadow. The twilight deepened. A cowbell tinkled

in the distance, and a young man and two girls with pretty shirt waists and

tennis racquets were chattering laughingly by.

"That's the boy that plays the organ at St. Michael's," said Rupert. "I go in sometimes to hear him do it. He likes it. When he isn't playing, he is talking to those three nice girls in the little house down the road. They each have a scrapbook, and the little boy has a scrapbook, and they put everything in"--

He stopped suddenly, his gaze fol-

lowed his mother's across the meadow,

and he slipped one soft arm around her neck, while she took possession of the little brown hand and kissed it gently. An old woman came slowly down the road--an old woman, with straight, white hair, blue calico gown and red handkerchief twisted around her neck. She was driving a flock of clamoring ducks and geese, and Rupert's interest was at once awakened. "Buy me one, mamma, one of the big white ones. It would be such good company, and I'll never say another

word about the hair." It was an odd

fancy and odder bargain, but it ended

in Mrs. Cardell's most promising gander, very much surprised and named Jacob, being shut up in Mrs. Ware's

chicken house for the night.

He did prove "good company." With a string around his leg for safety, he followed Rupert hither and yon. Together they planted a garden and dug it up from time to time to see "how it grew;" together they hunted for frogs in the meadow, and together they waded in the brook below the hill; together they sat on the steps when it was time for "mamma" to come home, holding a long and rather one sided conversa-

tion.

In September a plan began to grow in Rupert's little head, and he told Jacob all about it. Mamma had begun to teach in town now and was away all day. Julia, the maid, could be very good when she chose, but the day Rupert came tumbling into the kitchen, his feet very muddy, dragging after him poor bewildered Jacob by the length of his string, trying to explain all in a moment, she said:

"Did I ever see the like of such a

bothersome child, and the pesky beast" --and picked them up unceremoniously by the left wing and the right arm and put them down on the doorstep. Rupert cried a little, and Jacob went to sleep on one leg, and presently Julia repented, spread a nice slice of graham bread with apple sauce and presented it as a peace offering, explaining that she had just scrubbed the kitchen and was ill tempered into the bargain "along of reasons you can't comprehend. And twll me about the plan, darlin." Rupert sniffed, ate some of the bread and fed the rest to Jacob, talking all the

time.

"Mamma’s birthday and St. Michael and All Angels' day come just the same --next Saturday--and papa used to buy a goose and apple sauce and a cake with candles. Twenty-eighty it was last

year. This year makes 29, and the big

punch bowl full of Michaelmas daisies

--papa used to go way into the country when we were in the flat in town, but here the meadow is full of them. Jacob and me found them--and candles in the silver candlesticks and dinner

cards. Could you paint dinner cards, Julia? The boy that plays the organ could do them, I think," but Julia was thinking of something else, her forehead wrinkled up, her pale blue eyes gazing into indefinite distance.

Rupert wondered suddenly why Julia "didn't go on and finish being pretty." Her hair was soft and wavy and brown, and though she twisted it tightly twice a day it generally rippled loosely above a broad white forehead. Her eyes were very light, but shaded by long dark lashes, and her cheeks were the color of wild roses. Her mouth was very wide; her waist was very big; she herself was very long, and her fingers were bent quite crooked with rheumatism. Rupert tried to straighten them out as she went on talking: "It's a cake you're wantin, and apple sauce and daisies--them's easy got--and candles. There's plenty left from Christmas, but a goose'd be a big item on the bill, an it as small as it has to be, an a bit of steak here, an a handful of mutton for a stew there, an a lilliputian roast of a Sunday. There's Jacob now."

Rupert stood up suddenly and gathered Jacob into his arms. He was growing very heavy.

"We're going to find the boy that plays the organ," he said with dignity. He found him on the piazza of the little house down the road, deep in scrapbooks and newspaper clippings, with two of the girls, while the other girl was making lemonade and putting in a word now and then. They were all enthusiastically discussing theatricals for the benefit of a local charity, but looked up and smiled as "Jacob and me" came up the path. "I want to talk to the boy that plays the organ," he said. They all laughed, which was very embarrassing and made Rupert's little face very red in its tangle of golden hair. He put down Jacob and hauled in on the string until Jacob lost his equilibrium entirely, and then he let it out again. They persuaded him to have some of the lemonade, which he liked immensely, but "the boy" took him unceremoniously up on his knee and asked how old he was, which is a blow to would be dignity. Rupert said "Five," wriggled away and sat on the steps and told his story. General interest was aroused. "Let's all help, and you make the "I will," said the boy.

"I'm very much obliged," said Rupert, gathering up Jacob, "and you all come. You look so pretty it will be like a party. Julia won't mind." They all accepted. Friday afternoon Rupert gathered daisies in the meadow, and Rupert help-ed--at least he looked out for stray frogs and was "good company." They took them home and rested and had their supper of bread and milk on the back porch--Mrs. Ware was away until evening on Fridays--and then disappeared down the road to the village. By and by Rupert went back to the meadow and gathered the rest of the daisies alone. The sky behind St. Michael's spire was rose color and gold, and a most slender silver moon shone over the tops of the trees. When he had carried the daisies across the meadow, the sunset had faded to a silver gray, the moon had gone, one big star was reflected in the brook, below the hill, and it was growing very cold. Rupert sat down by the stone wall, and two tears rolled down his cheeks. The windows of the little church glowed with soft light. The sexton was preparing for Friday evensong. Suddenly the world seemed very big and wide, and the child lay face down in the grass and cried and cried. There the boy found him, and picking him up carried him and the daisies home and told Julia to put him to bed, while he himself put the daisies to sleep in a tub in the cellarway. Then he had to race across the meadow to be in time to play. The next morning he brought over the dinner cards--even Rupert was satisfied with them--and staid a long while in the kitchen sticking the 29 pink candles on the birthday cake and talking quietly and sensibly all the time. The market man came in like a flash and threw a goose on the table. It was marked "Paid." Julia was bewildered. "The boy" disclaimed all knowledge of it and went home. He came over again in time to set the table. He knew just how to settle the daisies in the big punch bowl and put things just right, with daisies and a dinner card at each plate, and all the time the goose smelled very good. Rupert was afraid it would "give them away just too soon," but it was a perfect surprise--the pretty table, the three pretty girls, "the boy," the daisies, the goose, the apple sauce, the birthday cake, the candles and Rupert beaming away from the other end of the ta-

ble.

"Who planned it all?" said Mrs. Ware when they were in the little parlor later on, with a gay little fire on the hearth and Michaelmas daisies showing bravely from every point of vantage. "The boy" was playing softly on the piano, the girls were in a pretty group on the hearth rug, wondering why they had never appreciated Mrs. Ware before, and she and Rupert were in the big wicker chair in the broad firelight. "Jacob and me planned it all," Rupert answered. "'The boy' did most of it, and the girls were kind, and they look so pretty, and the winter was coming, and Julia doesn't age[?] us in the kitchen, and soon the frogs will be gone --the goose was Jacob! I couldn't eat any myself." There was an odd little silence after this until "the boy" began to play Chopin's impromptu in A flat. The next day Rupert had his hair cut quite close, "like a boy." Mrs. Ware gathered it up as it fell, took it home and laid it tenderly in a little drawer. She was smiling, and yet there were tears in her eyes. She was thinking of "Jacob and me."--Churchman.

Georgia's Petrifying Spring.

There is a spring in Brooks county, Ga., which in a very short time converts wood and several other substances into hard rock. The peculiar qualities of this Georgia fountain have been known since early in the century, when an old "ba'r hunter" accidentally lost his knife in the basin which has been hollowed out of the granite strata by the ceaseless bubbling of the water. A month later the old trapper again repaired to the spring and was agreeably surprised to find his favorite knife. The water had had no effect upon the bright steel, not even to the extent of leaving a speck of rust, but with the wood of the knife's handle it was far different. The petrifying particles with which the water is so highly impregnated had entered every pore and sap tube in the wood, and what was but a few weeks before a hickory handle of "home make" was now two thin slabs of solid stone, woodlike in appearance, but as hard and unyielding as a chip from a granite bowlder. To this day the place is known as "old Moore's petrifying spring."--St. Louis Republic.

A Big Dress Order. "Women play odd tricks on one another sometimes," said a smart American woman the other day, "but the queerest I ever heard of was perpetrated by one social leader in a western city upon another. They were rivals and hated each other accordingly, though outwardly they preserved the semblance of pleasant relations. Every chance that either got to give a dig at the other was eagerly seized. "But the final and most effective stroke, after which no calls were exchanged, was delivered by Mrs. L----. She sent out cards for a grand entertainment and then took pains to find out what Mrs. F----, her competitor, was going to wear. A gorgeous pink brocaded satin was the material of Mrs. F----'s gown, it was ascertained. "Accordingly, Mrs. L----, whose husband was in the dry goods business, obtained several hundred yards of the same identical stuff and draped the walls of all the rooms on the lower floor of her house with it. You may imagine the feelings of Mrs. F---- on arriving in her superb new frock, which she expected to make a sensation. Naturally she ordered her carriage and drove away in tears."--London Tit-Bits.

Woman's Progress. They have a woman letter carrier in Connecticut, a woman street car driver in Georgia, a woman recruiting sergeant

in England and a woman board of trade in Santa Fe. Who says that the good cause is not progressing?--Boston Herald.

Too Personal as Appeal. An amusing story is told of a West Walnut street young woman who, having read strange tales of slumming in London, determined to visit Philadelphia's own very tough slum district and see what life there was like. As a sort of preliminary she supplied herself with a number of tracts, having a vague idea that the benighted residents there were in need of spiritual instruction. Boarding a Seventh street car, she got off at Bainbridge, and to the first man she saw, who was leaning idly against a lamppost, she very politely handed one of the tracts. He took it good naturedly and after glancing at it returned it with the smiling remark that he was a married man. Greatly mystified by this expression, she looked at the tract and saw that it was entitled "Abide With Me." She took the next car home, vowing vengeance against tracts and slum-ming.--Philadelphia Record. Did Mr. Kelly Do Right? Did Mr. Kelly do the right thing, or did he do the wrong thing, yet the only thing possible under the circumstances? According to his story he was dining in a restaurant with a woman when the latter complained of the too manifest admiration of two elderly men who sat at a table near. Kelly was about to remonstrate when, so he says, they got up and on pretense of looking at a picture which hung over the table, one of them addressed a remark to his companion. Mr. Kelly smote the intruder between the eyes, breaking his glasses, and was arrested. It is a repetition of Guy de Maupassant's story of "The Coward" over again, except that Mr. Kelly was courageous. But what was he to do? A cat may look at a king, says the proverb. Yet if the way of looking was objectionable, what was Mr. Kelly to do?--New York Evening Sun.

Bicycle Riding. The question whether bicycle riding injures a woman's health is now being discussed. A boy once defined salt as

"the stuff that makes potatoes taste bad when you don't put it on." So, in the same way, bicycle riding is something that is injurious to a woman's health when she doesn't practice it.--Biycling World.