VOL. XIV.

OCEAN CITY, N. J., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1894.

NO. 39.

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.

Physicians, Druggists, Etc.

DR. J. S. WAGGONER, RESIDENT Physician and Druggist, NO. 721 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.

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 home-like comforts.

PURE SPRING WATER. OPEN ALL NIGHT.

BAKERY, 601 South 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.

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.)

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.

LAW OFFICES SCHUYLER C. WOODRULL, 310 Market St., Camden, N. J. JONATHAN HAND, JR., Attorney-at-Law, SOLICITOR AND MASTER IN CHANCERY. Notary Public, CAPE MAY COURT HOUSE, N. J. Office opposite Public Buildings.

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.

GEO. BOURGEOIS & SON, Carpenters and Builders, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Buildings erected by contract or day.

D. GALLAGHER,

DEALER IN

FINE FURNITURE,

43 South Second Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA.

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

L. S. SMITH, CONTRACTOR IN

Grading, Graveling and Curbing.

PAINTING BY CONTRACT OR DAY. Eighth St. and Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J.

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.

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.

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.

HARRY HEADLEY, OCEAN CITY HOUSE,

717 Asbury Avenue.

PLASTERING, BRICKLAYING. Ornamental Work of Every Description. All kinds of contracting work and masonry promptly attended to.

The Old, Old Man.

A mile or so from the Westbury Half Way House there is a little cluster of red buildings to the north of the highroad. Here, nestled between a modern shoot-

ing box and an ancient farmstead, is a small chapel, and within the chapel a memorial plate to Parr: "The old, old, very old man, born in the year of our

Lord 1483. He lived in the reign of ten kings and queens of England, died the

13th and was buried in Westminster abbey on the 15th of November, 1635."

The inscription on brass, in a neat

oak frame, of course proves nothing, though it may well date from the mid-

dle of the seventeenth century. Its most attractive feature is the neatly engrav-

ed head of Parr, which is little at vari-

ance with that given in Taylor's pamphlet. It is hard to think this serene

faced person, in the conical skullcap,

the trim white collar and many buttoned coat, was a farm laborer all his life. His peaked beard is of the kind

Vandyke loved to paint, and his mus-

tache runs down into it. The nose is

long and straight, and his eyebrows are

handsomely arched.

Whether this portrait be a true or an ideal one, it is famously suggestive of a man who "hath not been troubled in

mind for either the building or throwing

down of abbeys and religious houses,"

who did never "murmur at the manner

of prayers, let them be Latin or Eng-

lish," and who "held it safest to be of the religion of the king and queen that were (sic) in being." It is to be hoped indeed he was such a man, else he could not have lived through a more tiresome century and a half of English life.--Macmillan's Magazine.

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.

Her Descendant. Bobbie--What are descendants, father? Father--Why, the people who came after you. (Presently) Who is that young man in the passage? Bobbie--That's one of sister's descendants come to take her for a drive!--London Million.

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

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 domestic 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.

THE MAJOR ESCAPED.

If ever there was a foreordained old bachelor, that man was Major Teller. He was a dapper, thin little man, something under 5 feet in height, with a glossly black wig, closely trimmed side whiskers, and costume so daintily neat that he reminded you of a shining black cat. It was high noon on a sparkling windy March day when Major Teller came home to the antique down town boarding house where he had vegetated for the last 20 years and went to his room to brush his wig for the midday meal. Opening the door, he stumbled over an obstacle in the way. "Oh, I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said the major, turning very red and recovering his footing with difficulty. It was Miss Patience Pettigrew, on her hands and knees, cleaning off the oilcloth at the door! Now, the major was afraid of Miss Patience--afraid of her as the plump lamb fears the gaunt wolf or the unoffending robin the dire serpent. Miss Patience was tall and lean and sallow, but she curled her hair, and wore an artificial rose over her left ear, and sang little whistling tunes to a little spindle legged piano, and firmly believed that if she only waited a little longer she should get married to somebody. "It's of no consequence, major," said Miss Patience, recovering her piece of soap, which had skirmished out to the middle of the carpet. "Thank you." "I do wonder, major," said Miss Patience, with a premonitory giggle, "why you never got married." The major retired precipitately behind the coal scuttle and made no reply. "You'd be so much more comfortable, you know," added Miss Patience. "Dear me, that was a very narrow escape," thought our hero, emerging from his sanctuary. "Some day she'll be too much for me. I'll look for a new place tomorrow." "Dear me, major, you have no appetite," said Miss Patience sweetly at the dinner table. "No, ma'am," said the major. "Don't you know, major, people will say you are in love if you don't eat more?" "I won't go back to that house if I can help it," thought Major Teller, brushing the cold dew away from his forehead with a crimson handkerchief. "Her intentions are serious; I know they are."

And the major in his innermost mind reviewed the catechism and hymns he had learned as a child, trying to think if there was not some invocation particularly suited to an elderly gentleman in great peril and perplexity.

"It's 20 years since I've been in the inside of a church," thought the penitent old offender. "I wish I had gone a little more regularly. I wonder if it's too late in life to reform." For the major, poor old gentleman, had a vague idea that "religion" would be a sort of safeguard against the wiles of his fair enemy. As Major Teller was frantically revolving these things in his mind he came to a sudden and involuntary standstill. There was a crowd gathered in the street--a fallen omnibus horse, or an arrested pickpocket, or some other nucleus. Now, of all things, Major Teller most dreaded a crowd, and he looked around nervously for some means of escape. An old fashioned church, with open doors and some sort of service going on inside, caught the major's eye. He made an instantaneous dart for its huge gothic portals, shielded by inner doors of green baize. The church was very warm, and the light, softened by purple and golden and crimson glass, was dim, and the clergyman's voice rather monotonous, and Major Teller was unconsciously becoming rather drowsy, when a plump old lady came in, and the sexton beckoned him from his seat. But the sermon was over, and people were streaming down the aisle, and the major felt that he did not care to prolong the thing, and that he had done a very laudable act in coming to church, and--Even while these ideas were passing indistinctly through his brain he was borne toward the altar in an upward eddy of the crowd and felt a gaunt arm thrust through his.

"Protect me, major!" whispered Miss Patience Pettigrew. "I'm so 'feared in a crowd always." The major strove to withdraw his arm, but Miss Pettigrew would not let him. They were standing directly in front of the altar arm in arm. The minister, old and nearsighted and a little deaf, advanced, probably concluding that his services were required. Major Teller's blood ran cold. He tried to protest, but his tongue seemed paralyzed. Miss Pettigrew had captured him as a lamb for the slaughter, and where was the use of further struggle? A few words--an appallingly brief ceremony--and Major Teller was married to Miss Patience! "Take the market basket, my dear," said the gaunt bride, "and stay--you'd better carry the umbrella too. We'll go right home. Old folks like you and me don't care for wedding tours, do we?" The major looked piteously at his better half and made no answer. She, however, waited for none, but drew him along with a quiet determination that argued ill for the future. "Give me the key to the room, my dear," said Miss Pettigrew Teller. "I'd better keep it in future." The major handed over the key without a word of remonstrance, and his elderly wife opened the door. "We'll slick up things a little," said Mrs. Teller, bundling the major's beloved papers together and pitching his box of cigars out of the window. "But, Miss Patience"--"What!" "My dear wife, I mean!" "Ah, yes. What were you about to remark?" "My cigars--I"--"Oh, well, I don't like smoke--never did! I wish you'd take all these coats and things out of the wardrove. I want it for dresses." "But where shall I keep them, Miss Pa"--"What did you say?" "Mrs. Teller, I would remark"--"Oh, under the bed or somewhere! You must have plenty of money. By the way, suppose you give me the money to keep now, my dear. I'll manage it a great deal more economically than you will be likely to." "But"--"Give me the money, I say." Major Teller meekly put his hand into his pocket and submissively handed over the purse. The major crept silently away, thinking how, the last time he crossed that threshold, he was a free man, and now: "I'm married!" mused Major Teller. "I couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault, but here I am, no money, no cigars, no freedom--worse than any galley slave. Sixty years old next month and married to Patience Pettigrew!" He walked disconsolately down the street, both hands in his empty pockets and his hat tipped recklessly down over his eyes. He stopped at the street corner, uncertain which way to go. But as he gazed the bright, steely glimmer of the river caught his eye. "All right," muttered Sempronius moodily. "I'll go and drown myself. It's a short way out of a long lane of difficulty. Anything but going back to --Patience Pettigrew." "Want a boat, sir?" demanded a sturdy man. "Yes," said the major; "I want Charon's boat to row me over the Styx." "Don't know him, sir," said the puzzled boatman, "but mine's a sound and light and"--"The major waited to hear no more, but gave a blind downward jump. Down, down with that peculiar sensation of falling so familiar to us all--down--down--until--

"Beg pardon, sir, but the church is goin to be shut up, and everybody's gone. Hope you've had a good nap, sir?"

The sexton spoke satirically, but in his tone Major Teller recognized hope and freedom. He started wildly to his

feet.

Major Teller satisfied the sexton with a donation whose liberality astonished even that personage and went at once to a hotel to engage rooms. "I'll send for my things," he thought. "I won't go back to that house. I'm not married, and I don't mean to be married!" Discretion is the better part of valor --and Miss Patience Pettigrew remains Miss Patience Pettigrew still. But Major Teller goes to church very regularly now!--Exchange. Bronzing Metals. A beautiful soft bronze color is imparted to metals by rubbing with a mixture of bloodstone and graphite, the application being made with a brush. Antique green effects are secured by dipping the metal into a solution of 10 parts by weight of salt, 10 parts cream of tartar, 10 parts acetate of copper and 30 parts carbonate of soda, in 200 parts of vinegar. The satin finish is produced by green vitriol of copperas and subsequent treatment with wax. Old green is obtained by several coats of acid and a final coat of wax.--New York Sun.

Near at Hand. Staylate Kawler (arguing woman's rights)--I tell you, Miss Blantley, the day is surely coming--Miss Blantley (glancing significantly at the clock)--You are right, Mr. Kawler. It can't be more than an hour or two a way, I'm positive.--Buffalo Courier.

THE TELEPHONE. Does the Use of the Instrument Save Time, or Does It Waste It?

There is a general doubt whether the telephone has really ever saved any net amount of men's time. Perhaps today one may save himself half a day's journey by the use of the telephone, and perhaps tomorrow some one wastes half an hour of his time by calling him needlessly over the instrument, and next

day somebody wastes another half hour, and so on until the saved half day is put over on to the other side of the account. There is a class of people who are in a special way the victims of the telephone. They haven't one at their elbow nor a cheaply paid employee to answer calls for them. They are within calling distance, and no one hesitates to call them over that distance. Imagine yourself one of these people. You are actively at work in your room, developing a line of thought that has just come to you and may not come again. Some one comes in and says, "You're wanted at the telephone--Bos-ton, 6199." You throw down your pen. Shall you answer the call? You don't want to, but after reflection that perhaps it may be something important to somebody you get up and go a long way, and after some five minutes' waiting for some one to get out of the telephone closet you are admitted. "Hello, Tremont--hello, Tremont--hello, Tremont!" Total silence of Tremont. You ring again. "What number please?" snappishly from Tremont. "Boston, 6199"--another long silence, which never has any explanation. But after another call or two you get this answer,

"6199's busy."

So you hang up the instrument and go outside and wait five minutes. And then you resume your plaintive petitions to Tremont to listen to you, and perhaps after ten minutes more you get number 6199, and you find out then that Perkinson just thought he'd ask you what kind of a flower it is that goes to seed in November and has a kind of a button on top. He doesn't remember what kind of leaves it has and never thought of noticing what kind of a place it grows in, but he knew that of course you'd know the moment you heard of it. Then you tell him that you don't know, and discuss the weather and his family's health with him, and give him a sad, sad goodby, and go back to your room, and see by your watch that you have lost exactly half an hour. Then you try to get to work again and can't make it go to save your life. It is quite useless. You put on your hat and overcoat and go down town to paw over the books on the counters of the book stores and try to get cheered up. Ah, the telephone is a great invention for saving time!--New York Mail and Express. ______________ Common Sense and Food. The doctors, in truth, have accumulated a great stock of knowledge as to food. They know what ought to be eaten and drunk. They know what ought to be refused, and they know, within the limits fixed by climate and labor, what are the beneficial quantities to be consumed, but they have entirely failed to make their knowledge permeate the world. The educated have only glimmering ideas as to what their children should eat. Half of them, till a few years ago, had a sort of horror of sugar, one of the most nourishing of all substances--and the uneducated have positively no ideas on the subject. They just eat and give their children what they can get. It may be said that this is inevitable, because the majority in all countries are too poor to do anything else, but is that true? We are not pretending to be experts, but if we understand what professionals say much of the best food produced in the world is also the cheapest. Oatmeal,

for example, is very much better than wheat bread and infinitely better than rye bread, and it is cheaper than either.

Hardly anything in the world is as nourishing as lentils, which might be sold much cheaper than bread, and eaten, too, with dripping, an invaluable combination. Millet, on which the big races of India grow so tall and strong, mmight, if there were a demand for it in Europe, be far cheaper than wheat, and so might "corn flour," on which Kentuckians, the strongest race in America, are bred, though that requires mixtures with a less nitrogenous diet.--London Spectator.

The Spider's Appetite. A gentleman scientifically inclined recently captured a spider, and by a careful estimate, made by means of actually weighing it and then confining it

in a cage, he found that it ate four times its weight for breakfast, nearly nine times its weight for dinner, 12 times its weight for supper, and at 8 p. m., when he was released, ran off in search of food. At this rate a man weigh-

ing 160 pounds would require the whole of a fat steer for breakfast, the [?] repeated, with the addition of a half dozen well fatted sheep, for dinner, and two bullocks, eight sheep and four hogs for supper, and then, as a lunch before, going to his club banquet, he would indulge in about four barrels of fresh fish.--Family Magazine.

A Vivid Imagination.

A Springfield man [?] a [?] pain in his back. He [?] his wife he apply a [?] and half where the [?] be found. [?] of the [?] applied, sleep [?], but in the [?] was [?] instead of a [?] object of [?].--Good Housekeeping.