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N editor of one of Philadelphia's evening dailies had occasion to send his daughter to Pittsburg to visit relatives, and being unable to accompany her and describe the interesting features of a daylight ride over the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, had a descriptive itinerary set up in long primer type and printed on a sheet eighteen inches long and six inches wide for convenient use.

The idea was certainly novel as it was purely a personal matter. The following was the description given:

POINTS OF INTEREST AND BEAUTY ON THE B. & O.

POINT OF ROCKS.

You strike the main line of the B. & O. here, the line that used to carry travelers from Baltimore to the West without touching at Washington

THE CHESAPEAKE AND OHIO CANAL AT POINT OF ROCKS.

before the Metropolitan or Washington branch was built. You get your first good view of the mountains from here.

HARPER'S FERRY.

This is one of the most famous of places in America. It is the northern gateway of Virginia. It was here John Brown led his small handful of men from Pennsylvania, and started war in Virginia for the purpose of freeing the slaves. They captured the arsenal there, but Governor Wise, of Virginia, called out the State militia, and the government sent the Washington Grays from the capital. Your mother's brother, George, was a member of this troop. John Brown killed some of the Virginians and the soldiers killed some of his men. He was captured and hanged at Charlestown. This happened in 1859, a year before Lincoln's election, and it helped bring on the great war. It was during the war the Northern soldiers and people sang

"John Brown's body lies mould'ring in the grave,
His soul goes marching on."

OLD NATIONAL BRIDGE, CUMBERLAND.

The Potomac River here separates Virginia from Maryland, just as it goes down in Charles County, at Rock Point. Before the war old Virginia was even a greater state than it is now. It stretched far east of Harper's Ferry, almost to Hagerstown, always keeping on the south bank of the Potomac, while Maryland bordered the north bank. But when the war broke out the people of the northern and western parts of the state cut loose from the rest of Virginia and formed a new state called West Virginia, with the capital at Charleston, a town lying out in the mountains westward toward the Ohio River. This is not the town of Charlestown where John Brown was hanged, which lies a few miles southwest of Harper's Ferry, also in West Virginia.

At Harper's Ferry you will see two great heights, the faces of mountains on opposite sides of the Potomac River. One is called Maryland Heights and the other Loudon Heights, the latter being in Virginia.

CUMBERLAND.

This is the second largest city of Maryland. It is near the Pennsylvania state line, and in less than half an hour after you leave it you are traveling through the southern border of Pennsylvania, across the great Alleghany, Mountains, and you never leave the Keystone State in the rest of your journey to Pittsburg. I think the grandest view of all is obtained after you leave Cumberland. It is here you begin to cross the Alleghanies. You seem to be traveling over the tops

OHIO PYLE, PA.

of great billowy mountains, and the clouds are away off below you. It is one of the grandest views of all the grand views on the B. & O. Take in all this scene, Majorie, for it is one you will never forget. It is like soaring through the clouds. I can never forget the first time I traveled over this route. I shall ever regard it as one of the sublimest of views on the eastern part of the continent. The countless sugar-loaf tops of mountains, the vast stretch of their lofty grandeur, with the fleecy clouds hovering around and about them and filling the crimps and dimples of their peaks, present one of the most stupendous prospects of sublime beauty in the world, the charm of which will linger in the memory forever. Do not neglect this scenery, though you miss everything else.

URSINA.

This is in Somerset County, Pa., and near the place where I lived for a year as a boy. They were just building this branch of the railroad then.

OHIO PYLE FALLS.

On the Youghiogheny River. The people of Fayette County call it the "Yough" River.

CONNELLSVILLE.

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You are now across the Alleghany Mountains, in the largest city of Southwestern Pennsylvania. You reached their westward slope at Ursina. All the rest of the way to Pittsburg is a gentle down grade. At Connellsville you begin to see the coke ovens and iron mills, and you skirt along close to the Monongahela River and through a region where you said, "I don't want them to burn my coat. Your journey to Pittsburg is now through smoke and dust, the like of which you never heard outside of Dante's Inferno. Great clouds of grime and smoke will almost shut out the light of day, getting worse and worse as you near Pittsburg. Bells will be clanging and whistles will be shrieking, but not for you; they do it anyhow. Railroad tracks with enormous rows of freight cars of all kinds will stretch before your eyes on each side of your train, and the sound of great steam hammers, of ringing anvils and ponderous cranes, and the snorting of donkey engines, and the roar of great engines, the hoarse screams of locomotives and the continued whirr of many wheels will almost shut out all other sounds from your ears, and you can hardly hear yourself think. Do not be alarmed. They do that always there and the people are used to it. Finally you will pull into Pittsburg, and Aunt Ada will meet you there, and Uncle Tom, also.

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HE writing of advertisements has grown into a profession, but the older business of sign painting has not advanced so far. While some give considerable thought to the arrangement of the matter on their sign boards, others seem to think that anyone with a pot of paint can do all that is necessary to call attention to their wares of business, and we often see some funny combinations.

Originally signs were intended for those who could not read, and the design used was meant to attract and be remembered. The striped pole, adopted when part of the barber's trade was to bleed customers, and the wooden Indian of the tobacconist, are the most conspicuous of the survivors of this custom, although the latter is becoming rare, and "Tonsorial Artists" with "Hair Cutting Emporiums" have largely supplanted the old-style shop.

In Eastern Pennsylvania some of the old taverns still go by the names by which they were known in colonial times. In one county signs bearing the picture of the "Black Bull," the "Turk's Head," the "Green Tree" and the "King of Prussia" still swing, and every drover or cattle dealer who has gone to Philadelphia in the past century and a half knows of the 'Black Horse Tavern," a few miles out of the city.

Some signs we daily pass are amusing, although not meant to be. While Mr. Johnson's roughly painted board says:

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Going out to do white washing Done here," he did not put it up to amuse the passerby. On a prominent street is a shoeshining parlor" with the placard on the door: "Shoes shined outside inside," and in the same block a rival announces himself as "King of the Shiners." Two people in the same building display signs side by side; one is "Crabs and Clams on Ice"; the other is "Floral Wreaths for Funerals made to order." As many people cannot eat sea food without trouble, this combination is a suggestive one. A small factory in a side street makes "Boxes all sice," while "The Hat Box" is expressive and tells its story in a few words. On the window of a saloon is a picture of a foaming glass of beer, with the legend: "Wanted one thousand Men to unload Schooners" and, to

prevent any misunderstanding, in smaller letters: "The Biggest Schooner of Beer in Town for 5 cents.

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A confectioner says he sells "Hot Ice Cream Puffs"; near is the "Old Fashion Home Made Bakery," and a well-patronized lunch room is known as Another Place to Eat." The window of this place recently bore the invitation: "Come in and get a good meal, the more you eat the more money we make, and it is your duty to patronize us." A piece of current slang is to feel like 30 cents," but one lodging house wants only cheaper men if the sign "Lodging for 15-cent men" is to be taken literally. Another is a "Transient Boarding House."

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A tailor announces he is a "Creator of Men's Garments"; and a man in the same business says he is an Architect in Men's Apparel.' A prominent seaside resort displays a sign at the end of a board walk at the wharf: "This walk is exclusively for steamer's use. When we see that Mr. Clokey deals in men's clothing, that Mr. Needle is a tailor, as is Mr. Sheers, that Mr. Hackney keeps a livery stable, and Mr. Goldsmith is a jeweler, we are reminded that many names originated with the trade or occupation of the bearer. One would think the days of slavery had returned to see that Egyptian Chiefs are for sale in a cigar store, and the same idea is suggested by the boards put on vacant lots by the real estate men:

cities in its enterprising undertakers and graveyard promoters. Street car cards tell of a lovely, cosy, shady cemetery, while a certain energetic mortuary conductor on an adjoining card says he can furnish you a first-class, elite funeral for $75, which includes a fine silver-mounted black casket, shroud, hearse, four hacks, bunch of flowers on door and grave dug and body embalmed-lady embalmers. It almost makes one want to die at the price. The rivalry among the undertakers, as indicated by their great 20 x 10 foot painted bulletin

EDITOR'S NOTE-The above is very remindful of the fish story which is always appropriate when the subject of advertising, in any form, is being discussed:

Once upon a time a tavern keeper near the seashore, who dealt in fish, was told by one of his patrons he ought to display a sign to the public announcing that

fact.

Accordingly, he had an elaborate sign painted to hang over his door. On the sign was a beautifully colored fish and underneath it the words "Fresh Fish For Sale."

One day while he was standing in front of his place admiring his new sign, a drummer came along and, attracted by the sign, put down his grip and stood in silent contemplation.

"Well, John," said the tavern keeper," how do you like my sign?"

"Foolish," replied the drummer; "cut out the word Fresh,' or people will think you are an ass."

The tavern keeper agreed with him and had the sign corrected.

A day or two later drummer No. 2 came along and

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the tavern keeper, as before, happened to be in front of the tavern. Drummer No. 2 went through the same pantomime as drummer No. 1. With some misgivings the tavern keeper asked him what he thought of his sign.

The drummer shook his head: "Superfluous," said he. "The word 'Fish' should be cut out, as the picture of the fish itself, just above, tells the story.

Dismayed, the accommodating boniface painted out the objectionable word, and wondered that he had not thought of it himself. It gave him much concern, however, and not long afterward he was standing in front of his place thinking about his sign when one of his best patrons came along and noticed the change. With a feeling of pride the tavern keeper called attention to the corrected mistakes in the original sign, hoping to elicit the approval of his old friend. His friend shook his head and the proprietor asked him what was the matter now. "Why any fool would know you do not give your fish away. Cut off the words 'For Sale,' was the reply. Enraged, the disgusted proprietor got his axe and smashed the sign to smithereens.

Moral-It is easier to criticise than create.

FAST TRAVELING.

Apropos of the remarkably fast time now being made between New York and Chicago on regular schedules of 18 hours, the following contribution has found its way under this heading, without the slightest intention of being humorous. In fact, it is serious and truthful and goes to show that in the last 74 years railroads have been gaining in speed nearly one mile an hour each year. At the same ratio, to keep up the record, we ought in 1931 to be able to travel about 113 miles an hour and in 1979 about 161 an hour, as a regular thing.

Mr. Gales, editor of the "National Intelligencer," writes October 31, 1831, giving an account of his journey between Baltimore and Ellicott's Mills, on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad.

"We traveled in a large car drawn by one horse, carrying eight or ten persons.

"In the distance between Baltimore and Ellicott's Mills, the horse was changed once, going and coming. In going we did not accurately reckon the time, but in returning, the whole distance of 13 miles was performed in 59 minutes-the limit to the speed being the capacity of the horse in trotting, rather than the labor he was tasked to perform. The locomotive steam machine, in the train of which cars loaded with persons are occasionally drawn, as well as those loaded with the materials of commerce, is propelled at about the same rate, and might be propelled much more rapidly if it were desirable. But for our part we have no desire ever to be carried by any mode of conveyance more rapidly than at 13 miles the hour. A much greater speed we are satisfied would be attended with considerable liability to accidents and with no little injury to the road. Even at that speed the greatest care and circumspection are necessary, and we do not think we should feel entirely safe, under any circumstances, in traveling on a railroad by night at anything like that speed.

'As a great highway of commerce the canal is beyond comparison. The canal is far superior to the railroad in reference to economy, accommodation and general adaptation to the wants of the country.

"It will require great care to guard against accidents. For ourselves we met with no accident of any sort. One of the cows, which we overtook, cast a suspicious glance towards us as the car rapidly passed her, which filled us with a momentary alarm lest she should attempt to cross our path, but luckily, she took a direction from the road."

THE HILARIOUS UNDERTAKER.

One of the country's ptimists who really works at the trade after sixty-one years of life, including forty of hard work behind the pen and the footlights, is Rev. Robert J. Burdette, known everywhere as "Bob" Burdette, who made the "Burlington Hawkeye" famous years ago. One of the most especial of the sunshiny man's many especial friends is the solemn-eyed James Whitcomb Riley of Indianapolis. The two are as widely divergent, from the standpoint of types, as two men could be. And yet there is in each a wonderful appreciation for the other and a common ground of sympathy that is indestructible. Whenever the two can get together they do so. And once when Burdette had an open night in his lecture season, and was but a hundred miles or so from Indianapolis, he followed his usual custom under such circumstances and ran in to see his old friend.

They spent the evening and most of the night in each other's society. About 2 o'clock in the morning Burdette said:

"Well, Jim, I've got to be getting to bed, if I'm to lecture to-night."

"All right, Bob,' said Riley, reluctantly, "but before you go I want you to go with me a little bit around the Circle to see something I always look at before I go to bed, just to cheer me up."

"Very well, Jim," said Burdette cheerily, "let's go."

A short distance from the hotel they came to an undertaker's shop that stood flush with the pavement. The light was burning inside and the shirt-sleeved night man was sitting with his back to the window reading.

"Now," said Riley, in his quaintly, droll manner, "your eyesight's better'n mine, Bob, you just step up there an' see what that feller's reading."

Stepping close to the window Burdette peered at the paper awhile and said: "Its name is 'The Casket,' Jim."

"The Casket!'' exclaimed Riley, in wellfeigned horror. "Great heavens! That man's gettin' hilarious-he must be drunk. He's generally readin' 'The Shroud.' "'

TWO JAG STORIES.

"I don't usually tell stories of drunks," said the Temperance Advocate as he unbent after his stilted oration on the evils of intoxicants, "but despite the prejudice I have against the stuff and the usual demonstrations of its effect, I have enough of the saving sense of humor to recognize, and enough honesty to admit, that when in liquor men do and say some amazingly funny things that no sober man ever would have thought of:

"Once last winter in Harrisburg, Pa., I was riding to the theater where I was to deliver an address, when I noticed a man standing near me, holding to a strap. Even with the help of the leather he was hardly able to keep his perpendicular position.

"Near him stood a little, frail old lady with a basket on her arm. She was having even greater difficulty in keeping her feet, as the car went about curves or suddenly started and stopped.

"The intoxicated man noticed the old lady, and his heart went out to her. He was fully drunk enough to cry over the death of his great grandmother, and one could see the compassion shining in his dulled eyes.

"At length he said to a large, fat man who occupied a whole cross seat that was intended to accommodate two:

"Scuse me, shir, but zhis lady's shtan'in' up an' you've got room f'r 'r.'

"The fat man paid no attention.