notches on the under side of the stock. His scalping-knife has seven notches, where this merciless scalp-hunter enumerated his red victims prior to collecting the scalp bounty at Harris' Ferry. The Covenhoven rifle was latterly owned by the old deer-hunter Miller Day, of English Centre, Lycoming County, but is now in Philadelphia, while the knife is at the James V. Brown Library, Williamsport, together with his Ketland pistol. As symbols of a bolder and broader day the firearms of backwoods Pennsylvania will always exercise a peculiar charm, typifying as they do the period of trackless forests, Indians, panthers, wolves, unbridled romance. Also, that strangely picturesque period of the Civil War, when the sharp-shooting Pennsylvania mountain boys (and older ones) went forth to snip; for did not Jake Karstetter, of Sugar Valley, Clinton County, enlist as 37 when he was 57 and compass the death of seven Confederate general officers? Notched on the walnut stock of his favorite weapon, the work of Henry Barner, a wayside Sugar Valley gunsmith, were seven sets of minute carvings in the form of collar insignias in all the grades from a Lieutenant General to a Lieutenant Colonel. And when they led him haltered through the streets of Richmond they labelled him "a wild Yankee from the North," because of his unshorn hair and beard, which he swore he would not cut until he had "set Jeff Davis cold." It is a pity that the science of ancient arms is not more popular in inland Pennsylvania, and that more of the curious specimens of arms have not been retained, but were allowed to be shipped away to collectors elsewhere before their local value was recognized. It is with a hope that it may stimulate other collectors at home to assemble ancient weapons before it is too late that this catalogue has been published. It is as a fragment, and not as a complete collection, but it puts before the reader the picture of an arms loving race, in the glorious ante-mollycoddle age, which was the golden age of Pennsylvania manhood. But in truth there has been very little, if any, decline, when one thinks of the valor of the boys of the 28th, the 79th and other outfits where Pennsylvanians were most in evidence in the World War. Many of these had old Civil War grandfathers, who could tell of Fredericksburg or Petersburg, of how earlier they barked squirrels on tall hardwood trees, or shot into the flocks of wild pigeons "which darkened the sun" in their great flights. And to welcome in the "apostolic succession" of arms new lovers among our boys, even the least of them, this collection stands catalogued, thanks to Mr. Piper's perseverance. It is an invitation and appeal to carry on all that is boldest, bravest and best of that fearless company that bore their spears along the dark warpaths of obscurity, and stacked them on the campgrounds of eternal night. HENRY W. SHOEMAKER. "Restless Oaks," McElhattan, Pa., July 30, 1927. [Illustration]