VOL. 44.
The Huntingdon Journal
Wire i;t new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street
TUE iIIINTINGDON JOURNAL is published every
eriday by J. A. Nam, at 112,00 per annum 174 ADVANCE,
or 52.0 it not paid for in six months from date of sub
.cription, and S 3 if not paid within the year.
No pap., duicoutiuued , unless at the option of the pub
lisher, until all arrearages are paid.
No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless
absolutely paid for in advance.
Tntudientadvertiatments will be inserted at TWELVE
AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first iwertion, BEVAN
AND A-11hLT CENTS for the second and Fivx CENTS per line
fur all iitb,Nitent insertions.
Regular ~uarterly and yearly business advertisements
will be inserted at the following rates :
19m i l Yr I l3m 16m
3m 16m
. . .
\
lln is 3 50 ; 4 501 5 501 8 00 %coil 9 001 2
18 00187 $ 36
2" i 5 00. , 4 0.1110 00112 00 %col l lB 0036 001 50 63
3xi7 00 10 0014 00118 3, , ,c,0134 00 50 00; 6SO
4 " , s 0.,' It 00' 1 i IS On \2O 00
00 1 col 36 00160 001 RO S I
100
All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of
limited or individual interest, all party announcements,
and notices of Marriages and Deaths, exceeding live lines,
will he charged tea CENTS per line.
Legal and other notices will be charged to the party
Laving them inserted.
Advertising Agents must find their commission outside
of these figures.
All advertising accounts are due and collectable
when fit , a , leertisement is once inserted.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors,
lone with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks.
Cards, Pamphlets, kc., of every variety and style, printed
st the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing
line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at
the lowest rates.
Professional Cards•
WILLIAM W. DORRIS, Attorney-et-Law, 402
I Penn
street, Huntingdon, Pa. [inar.l6,7y.
TA CALDWELL, Attomey-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd stre , q
If . Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & WU.
liamsou. [&p12,'71
DR. A.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services
to the community. Office, No. 673 Washington street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. ijau4;7l
1111. HYSKILL has nermanently located in Akaandria
to practice his profession. [jan.4
IC. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. O ffi ce in Leister's
. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E.
J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2S, '76.
G 0). B. ORLADV, Attorney-at , Law, 405 Penn Street,
Huntingdon, Pa. Ln0v17;75
GROBB, Dentist, office in S. t. Brown's new building,
. No. bzO, Penn Street, Unntingdon, Pa. [api2.'7l
lIC. 31 XDDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
. Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l
JSYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon,
• Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd
Street. [jan4,'7l
JW. MATTERS, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim
. Agent, II untingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the
Government for hack-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid
pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of
fice on Penn Street. Lian4,'7l
T L o NE ASHMAN, Attorney-at Law.
Office : No. 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa.
July 18, 1879.
L - S. OEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [febs,ll
Q E. LEM INO, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa.,
O. office in _Vonitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and saran' attention given to all legal business.
[augs,74-6mos
WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 321
Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. AU kinds of legal
business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,"7S.
New Advertisement.
BEAUTIFY YOUR
i -- i 0 INT U. S
The underi , igned is prepared to do all kinds of
RUSE AND SIGN PAINTING,
Calcimining, Glazing,
Paper Hanging,
and any and all work belonging to the business.
Having had several years' experience, he guaran
tees satisfaction to those who may employ him.
PRICES MODERATE.
Orders may be left at the JOURNAL Book Store.
JOHN L. ROHLAND.
March 14th, 1879-tf.
CHEAP ! CHEAP !! CHEAP ! !
PAPERS. N.-/ FLUIDS. %./ALBUMS.
Buy your Paper, Buy your Stationery
Buy your Blank Books,
AT THEJOCILVAL BOOR & STATIONERY STOKE.
Fine Stationery, School Stationery,
Books for Children, Games for Children,
Elegant Fluids, Pocket Book, Pass Books,
And an Endless 'Variety or Nice Things,
AT THEJOURNAL BOOK ef STATIONERY STORE
$ TO $6OOO A YEAR, or $5 to $2O a day
ii your
locality.7n N o risk. Wom l
doaawe; a:m.aiy make more
thnth:.fle above .
can fail to make money fast. Any one
can do the work. Yon can make from
60 eta. to $2 an hour by devoting your
evenings and spare time to the business. It costa nothing
to try the bueinels. Nothing like it for money making
ever offered before. Business pleasant and strictly hon
orable. Reader if you want to know all about the best
paying business before the public, send us your address
and we will send you full particulars and private terms
free; samples worth $5 also free; you can then make up
your mind for yourself. Address GEORGE STINSON It
CO., Portland, Maine. June 6,1679-Iy ,
STAMPING 1
Having just received a fine assortment. of Stamps
from the east, I am now prepared to do Stamping
for
BRAIDING AND EMBROIDERING.
I also do Pinking at the shortest notice.
MRS. MATTIE G. GRAY,
No. 415 Mifflin Street.
May 3,1875.
DR. J. J. DAHLEN,
GERMAN PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Office at the Washington House, corner of Seventh
and Penn streets,
HUNTINGDON, PA
April 4, 1579.
DR. C. H. 130 Y ER.
SURGEON DENTIST,
Office in the Franklin House,
HUNTINGDON, PA,
Apr.4-y.
M'DIVITT,
SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER,
CHURCH ST., bet. Third and Fourth,
0ct.17;79,
COME TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE
FOR YOUR
JOB PRINTING.
If you wea sale bills,
If you want bill heads,
If you want letter heads,
If you want visiting cards,
If you want business cards,
If you want blanks of any kind,
If yeu want envelopesneatly printed,
If you want anything printed in a workman
ike manner, and at very reasonable rates, leave
yourerders at the above named office.
A WEEK in your own town, and no capital
sopporis o ked.
wered ithout expense:
an
ose wi if e e t he
e;t
ng to bu s in e ss
rtunity ou a
should tervV•
try nothing else until you see for yourself
what you can do at the business we offer. No
room to explain here. You can devote all
your time or only your spare time to the business, and
make great pay for every hour that you work. 'Women
make as tench as men. Send for special private fenny
and particulars which we mail free. 11•3 Outfit free. P ,, n't
c..niplain of hard times while you have such a chance.
Address ff. lIALLETT & CO., Portland, Maine.
June 6, 1879-Iy.
06,000 AGENTS.
WANTED TO SELL 10 NEW PA-
Ovne Agent made ss2.so vnxrßH
in two da n ys E .
another, t 32 in one d'ay. TRY IT. Will
gireAgenAgent'?/ of Town Or County.
Scud ti eta. for 200 pages.
EPHRAIM BROWN, Lowell, Mass
wept. 5, IS7lli3owulyr.
I
ISE C' 1 111 IiriVIIMITEII..S! 'go.
i____lh _e ' l ,O (0 Ell g ‘--,,,
19m lyr
ELEeTntit LTO:EF - Z
1 - IEnTtS FA7O7:
31anulitetnred bv zo; eni;rdv entire smisrletion Dealers
rind Consuinors prfunninee this 11,:nr wiitti. is w;inted. Mauuractured by
MACKEREL
LARGE : . XTRA FANCY SHORE, EXTRA FAT SHORE,
FAT FAM I LY, DEEP SEA AND MESS,
in Barrels, Half and Qn,rter B.trre!s, Kitts ;rid 514. cans. We recommend the
above brands as being %,:ty white and :it, and we are oloiident of their pleasing in
ONONDAGO GROUND PLASTER
By the car load or ton. We have s; - !enr,:il the Agency rir the sale of ONONDAGO
PLASTER and are prepared to fill orders prowl); ly at nit- prices.
VZ - Orders from lice Thole Soliriird.
SALT! ,(7',1 , ALl ! 6 - 7 ra.'is SALT 1
LIVERPOOL, t; ROUND ALUM, COMMON, Fi D DAIRY
SAIAT, by the Carload, Sack or Tht• I.
THE OLIVER
Is universally acknov, - io.cl
working plow in the world.
Having just received two carloatls 1 -, ::red to fiii tohrs promptly by railroad
and c,trtl.
, rt in, c 7 :: .: .' i 72 y C
itßp PETS
7,--sii c i P, : 1 1 -, i .. L. - J f.d ‘
C Liz. Z 1: ex; rrfp .....,. "IA ....5.i...........•
BODY BRUSSELS, TAPESTRY BRUSSELS, 3-PLY, (Extra Super,)
SUPER, COTTON CHAIN, COTTAGE RAG,
and HEMP CARPET we have; ever In;LI. Call and examine.
FLOOR AND TABLE OIL CLOTH IN GREAT VARIETY.
FOR MEN, BOVS AND CHILD lE\. at pricos that (.I.!fy competition
ka-ColDa,
NOTIONS BOOTS, SHOES,
fra " 7-11 75 57.7 2 —• 67-7 1 7.7 11 4,-?, ‘1777 2
GRfutpk,,JilaZikTair.g.-XAE ; 41 6 i.t.dq.14:41 4:3 * . Et c.,
In fact everything you want fir the FAUN', SIMI', or FAMILY can be had at
HENRY & CO., 732 AND 734 PENN STREET.
-NEW GOODS !-
Respectfully informs the public that he has just opened a large stock -of
in the room lately occupied by Geo. W. Johnston & Co., corner of 9th
and Washington streets, in West Huntingdon, consisting in part of
3FI. 'ISEr 41r- C3O MI. ..,e7=)""
NOTIONS, BOOTS AND SHOES, HATS AND CAPS,
GROCERIES, QUEENSWARE, GLASSWARE, WOOD
AND WILLOW APE CARPETS, OIL CLOTHS,
and every other article usually found in first-class country stores:
STAINIPING
Country Produce taken in exchange for goods at highest market price.
By strict attention to businei4s and an effort to please, he confidently
expect a share of public patronlz,f , -. [apr23-tf.
THE FINEU ONE fa
the room lately 0e.:,ni) . ..0d I,Y Graffius Miller, on the south west corner of the Dia
mon , t, Penn street ; has just (+cued a large assortment of
DRY GOODS, NOTIONS, THEME GS, LACES ,
_HATS AND CAPS, BOOTS AND SHOES, QUEENS\VARE, Etc His stock
of O.ROCERIES embrie,s everything in that line, and every article sold will be just
as represented. His terms are
STRICTLY CASH, OR ITS EQUIVALENT IN COUNTRY PRODUCE.
HUNTINGDON, PA
He will do his beg to please you. Go and see him, examine Lis goods, hear his
prices, and you will be convinced that ROLLER'S is the place for bargains.
april23
BEAUTIFUL GLASSWARE,
By the piece or in seits, ; r great A . ,.rlety, has been adied to the elegant stock
Stap:e FILII,y ruci2ries at
F. H. LANE'S
CASH & E* - CHANGE STORE.
handsome netts of GLASS as low • . The place to buy QI.TEE':'SWARE by the piece or in
setts, is at F. 11. LANE'S STOE I 4I. it andount. TEA SETTS con,isting of tfi pieces of White Stone
Chinn, can be bought. fur t, at F. 11. LANE'S low
A la.rgf: c'noice Mackerel, consissing of Deep Sea, Extra Shore, Nov Fat, aria all the best va
rieties and numbers known in the market. Also Large Rue and Lake
11 erring, Cod Fish and shad in season.
F. H. Lane does not boy or sell short weight inif.kages of Fish. You do riot want to buy salt at Fish
price!, CANNED GOODS. including C:,lifornia, Clio7ne Fruits, Evaporated and other Dried Fruits.
(;Freon fruits. Foreign and Domestic. All kinds of eboile TEAS, from 15 to 20 cents per quarter,
Good tigir from 8 cents per pound to the best M! I. Suonlr in bricks or granulated at 13 coats per
pound. SALT MEAT, FLOUR. NOTIONS. CONFECTIONs, wotip ;old WILLOW-WARE, and
in short, about, ev e r F thing found (17-,...ry and Pravi,ion Store. can be `ought at
F. II L ANE'S Casts and Exchango the chun.h. AV,;iioct,n street, Hunting
don, Pa. .Ik,OTTO:-000D QUALITY—FULL QUANTITY—SMALL PROFITS.
- e
•
• •
• •
re
•
unti
.4, „it
4_
_
T
fie - 17 ,
%-‘ LPL,
ou Buy
YoUR FLOUR?
YOUR C Tr. nCER Gl' 0 17. L
El_ 1 A Cc - P
-1) c---1 0
We have just received A CARLOAD OF CHOICE MACKEREL
which we offer at very low prices:
gde-IVE All::: . 1 -.. GENTS FOIL TIIE CELEI3RATED-tA
p,- •
pi th
• S
4 -
is
N
Lave tho largest and most e)mplete line of
CLOPTI I NG
- -0" %wa ft
r-
„„„
t-i I.
"GUS 3 LETTERMAN
SEASONABLE GOODS,
17." Si
Zs 1Z
rg-iT
12.1.9
z v l e i t c
Choi co zima Seasonable Gccaz,
Which he is selling, away down hi price. his stock embraces
MACKEREL.
SPECIAL NOTICE.
New Advertisements
MACKEREL
every particular
Cl-19_1 ED PLOW 1
~~
`-~-L
to be the most. ET ,, noinienl, be-t ma..l, and best
l's - otwithstandin, the great. advarce in Material we offer
them at the o!d prices.
THE LOWEST FREES 1
-AMAY GOODS 1.-
HUNTINGDON, PA,, FRIDAY, MAY 28, 1880.
arcuTUStiSt
In the Twilight.
1;Y W. E. CAMERON.
As we grow old, our yesterdays
Seem very dim and distant;
We grope, as those in darken'd ways,
Through all that is existent ;
Yet far-off days shine bright and clear
With suns that long have faded,
And faces dead seem strangely near
To those that life has shaded.
As we grow old our tears are few
F, r friends most lately taken,
But fall—as falls the summer dew
From roses lightly shaken—
When some chance word or idle strain,
The chords of memory Pweeping,
Unlock the flood-gates of our pain
For those who taught us weeping.
As we grow old our smiles are. rare
To those who greet us daily,
Or, if some living faces wear
The looks that beamed so gaily
From eyes long closed—and we should smile
In answer to their wooing—
'Tie but the past that shines the while,
Our power to smile renewing.
As we grow old our dreams at night
Are never of the morrow •
They come with vanished p leasure bright,
Or dark with olden sorrow;
And when we wake the names we say
Are not of any mortals,
But of those in some long dead day
Passed through life's sunset's portals.
Ee ,storg-Etiter.
THE TEST OF LOVE.
The sharp ring of an axe sounded reg
ularly, from the barn yard. It was weilded
by a boy of thirteen, perhaps, but small
for that age. His jacket was buttoned
closely round him, his cap pressed down
upon his curly hair; and his cheek glowed
with the frosty air and the exercise.
Ile had been cutting wood an hour;
meanwhile, in the house had arrived a little,
girl brought there by the overseer of the
poor. She stood timidly at one side of the
great fire, the blaze warming her chilled
limbs. She hugged an old cloak tightly
about her, and replied in a low voice to
the kind questions asked her by the farm
er's wife, Mrs. Wyllis.
"Sit down on that stool," said the lady,
"and put your feet up to the fire, while I
bring you a box! of bread and milk Don't
be bashful."
The child sat down and directed her
large, black eyes to the fire, and in them
was the sad, wistful expressicn of an un
loved childhood ; but mingled with that
look was a self controlled, self reliant look
which was unusual in so small a face. The
face itself was dark and thin and very
plain ; there appeared in it nothing to
to warrant a hope of beauty in after years,
though the eyes would undoubtedly always
be beautiful.
She took her milk in an eager way,
though very daintily, and Mrs. Wyllie
watched her with a kindly glance.
"What is your name?" she asked. "I
have forgotten, if Mr. Hinckly told me."
"Marjory St. James," was the reply.
"St. James. A nice sounding name.
Do you remember your mother or father ?"
"I remember my father."
"Is he living ?"
"I expect so."
This answer was given in a reserved
tone that would bare shown to a pene
trating per Eon she did not like to be ques
tioned about him, but Mrs, Wyllis was not
very observing.
"Have you seen him lately ?''
"I should think it was two years."
Then what makes you think he is liv
ing? Do you hear from him 7"
"Was he a good man ?"
The child clasped her hands and ex
claimed, passionately :
"I don't believe anybody thinks he's a
good man, but, oh, I love him 1"
"If he was a good man I should think
he would take care of you," said Mrs.
Wyllis, very kindly, but also very obtusely.
"Seems to me," said a voice by the door
behind Mrs. Wyllis, "if I was you, mother,
I wouldn't ask her anything more about
her fath e r."
Marjory cast a look of thankfulness to
ward the speaker, who had come in un
noticed, and who was the boy who had
been chopping wood.
"You needn't interrupt me, Fred," said
his mother. "Of course, I want to know
all I can about her parents. Did you ever
go to school, Marjory ?"
"No. But when I was at home, when
I was very small, I used to have a teacher
live there."
"Very small 1" exclaimed Fred "If
you were smaller than you are now, you
must have been a wonder."
"Be quiet, Fred," said the mother se
verely ; "she's as large as you are now,"
which was very true.
Fred utterer an incredulous "Wm,"
and was silent.
"How old are you ?''
"Thirteen."
"And how long hare you been at the
poor house ?"
"Ever since I was nine," was the an
swer.
"You know how to wash dishcbi, and
sweep, and such things?"
"tea."
"Well, I think you'll be a very good
little girl ; and I'll take you up stairs to
the room you'll sleep in ; then you may
come down and help me."
And Mrs. Wyllis led her off.
Fred sat by the fire, his cap thrown off,
his chin on his hand. He remained
thoughtful a few minutes, then lifting his
head, he said :
"What did she say her name was,
mother ?"
"Quite a romantic name—Marjory St.
James."
"Who do you suppose she is. anyway ?"
Marjory, softly coming along the other
room, whose door was half open, hoard her
name, and involuntarily paused.
"I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Wyllie
replied. "I shall try to sen her to school
this winter; you must be kind to her,
Fred, and treat her well."
"Treat her well ! Of course I shall. I
declare, she's got about the homeliest phiz
I ever saw."
'Hush 1" said his mother, looking with
ill concealed pride at the handsome face of
her boy. "You shouldn't talk so."
The boy took up his cap and went back
to his chopping, while the girl in the other
room stood still for a moment with a flushed
face and strangely bright eyes, then she
came quietly into the kitchen and began
washing dishes.
Fred had every inclination to be kind
and on intimate terms with the newcomer.
Kind he was, but it did not seem possible
to be very intimate with the poor house
gir• Fred &eider] in his own mind that
she was the proudest piece he ever saw,
and . he was very much provoked with him
self that he could not help liking her, for
she certainly appeared to care very little
for him.
It was true, at rare intervals, she seemed
suddenly to thaw, and enter delightedly
into his plans, to chat and laugh with him
in a way that charmed him, but when he
next came eagerly to her, be was almost
sure to find her a cold, reserved little thing.
But one day, after she had been at the
farm about two months, there happened an
incident which effectively broke down the
reserve the child had striven to maintain.
It was a warm, thawy day in January.
Fred had been out in the meadow half a
mile below the house all the morning,
when Mrs. Wyllis directed Marjory to run
down and call him, and bring him back
directly.
Marjory bounded through the woods
that separated the house from the meadow ;
then on the borders of the low land, paused
and looked about for Fred. She could
not see him, but she saw the prints of his
boots in the soft, watery snow, where he
had bounded from hillozit to hillock across
the meadow, and into the cedar swamp be
yond.
It seemed to her that she had walked
days in the swamp, though it was no more
than three hours, when suddenly she
thought she heard a faint halloo, sounding
half smothered by these heavy hanging
trees
She rushed forward in the direction of
the sound, her clothes catchincr ° and tear
ing among the underbrush, her feet !plash
ing water upon her face. She shouted as
she panted on :
"I'm coming. Which way ?"
"Out here ! Come quick !"
It was Fred's voice silo heard, and there
was the sound of strttgle and pain in it
that somehow gave a tightened gasp to the
girl's breath.
After a few minutes she broke through
a tingle of horse-briars on the banks of a
little pond, in whose dark, stag nant waters
she saw the boy for whom sh e had been
sent, his head thrown back, his hands
holding fast to a floating log of half de
cayed wood, that barely kept him afloat
iklarjory stood for a moment recovering
her breath, and trying to decide upon what
to do. Fred looked in silence at her, an
instinct telling him that she would do the
best thing.:.• , :he clasped her hands, and
cried:
"I will get a long pole and reach it to
you." and turned to find it, when Fred
said, desponding:
"You are not strong enough."
But the frail looking arms were muscu
lar, and seemed now endowed with super
human_ strength. With much painful
msnenvering on the part of both, Fred had
grasped the pole and was dragged to the
shore.
Overcome by exhaustion, the boy sank
down at her feet, and tears escaped his
eyes as she took his head upon her arm ;
and he felt an almost uncontrollable desire
to kiss her; but he refrained, feeling
rather doubtful as to how she would take
it.
Sooner than be would have liked, she
started up to go home. They plunged on
briskly for half an hour. The boy's wet
clothing steaming with the exercise; when
suddenly, with a very blank face he ex
claimed :
"Marjory, I don't know whore we are !
I am lost !"
In the gray wintry dawn they came
out upon a highway five miles from home
and plodden onward until a farmer took
them up in his cart and carried them home
to the distracted parents.
Fred wds sick a month after that, and,
with the fond tyranny of affection, insisted
urn Marjory waiting upon him every
minute, until bis mother was half jealous
of the little girl.
In the days of his convalescence, when
he could sit by the kitchen fire, while
Marjory knit or sewed, he first discovered
what a voice of music his nurse had. The
boy, weakened by illness, would lean back
in his chair, and while the wild melody of
her songs filled the air, tears of exquisite
delight would fill his sunken eyes and roll
down his cheeks.
It was upon one of these times, when
Marjory was sinning fragments of an Ave
Maria she had picked up in some unknown
way, that the door behind them opened
softly, and the minister stood, with won
dering face, listening with such intensity
and surprise that he did not stir for a mo
ment after the strain ceased. He was an
amateur in music, and the rcult of that
moment was the arrangement that Mar
jory should receive singing lessons from
the lame German choir leader.
From that moment a new life opened
for the girl, the vague longings of her
heart took form in the enthusiastic striv
inn to grasp the best of her divine art.
As the weeks passed Fred grew almost
angry that all her devotion seemed offered
to her own love. She had no time for
him or anything save her music. So the
years began to glide, and the two children
grew from the fancies of childhood to the
deeper desires of a wilder life.
*
A prima donna was entrancing the fash
ionable world. The gayest, the most bril
liant of audiences was listening to the ex
quisite "Sonnatnbula" of Miss St. James.
As the last strain parted her lips in that
living melody which thrilled the hearts of
her hearers, the eyes of the singer saw
bending eagerly forward the tawny, leonine
head, the bright face, the memory of which
had never fir a moment left her.
The curtain fell between her and the
deep glance of those blue eyes, but she
heard not the tempest of plaudits.
But holding her furs fast about her, she
paused only one moment at the carriage
steps, a swift leap of her heart telling that
a figure under a distant light was that
friend of her childhood, but he apparently
dared not approach. She entered the car
riage, and strove to talk interestedly with
a lady who accompanied her.
The sudden peeling forth of the fire
bells sounded in upon the even roll of their
carriage, and several engines dashed past
them.
"The driver will know better than to
go by the fire, I hope," the lady had just
said, when the carriage whirled into a
cross street, and came full upon the burn
ing building, from whose roof long tongues
of flame were springing
In the mood which then possessed her,
this sight was fascinating to Marjory.
"If the horses are not afraid," she said
to the driver, "stop for a moment where
we can see. A fire always bewitches while
it terrifies me." _
The driver obeyed her, and Marjory
lowered the wirdow and leaned forward
into the blaze ofbrillianee. She could see
distinctly the features of the firemen as
they plied the engines or daringly pene
traced within the realm of fire.
All at 0.,e0 there rose the cry that a
child vtas within the building, up above
where no one could reach him. Even the
intrepid firemen hesitated and held back.
Marjory had become intensely interested.
Her lips parted with her quick breaths,
her face glowing.
As she looked, a lithe, slender figure
sprang up the window that rested against
the chamber window. In that first glance
at that face and fiarm enshrined in that
fiery glory Marjory recognized Fred Wyl
lis. She felt her breath stopping upon her
lips; there was now only a pallid white
heated upon her face
Marjory could not have spoken had death
been the penalty of silence.
An unbroken stillness fell upon the
crowd. They waited until the man re
appeared at the ladder with the child in
his arms. He descended the ladder ap
parently with great difficulty. As he
stepped upon the ground the child was
snapped from his arms by the father, and
the girl watching in the carriage saw the
brave figure reel and fall, and the crowd
bustle around him.
"Take me to him," said Marjory
The people gave way before this woman,
who seemed to come with authority, and
the whisper ran among them
"It is Marjory James !"..
_ _
They had carried Fred Wyllis a little
apart, and he was lying on a lounge, one
of the many pieces of furniture scattered
about.
Before him there appeared the face he
had just seen queening it so royally.—
Tremulous soft hands took his begrimed
ones.
He murmurs "Marjory," as in dreams
he had done so•many times, but now it was
Marjory herself who answered him. She
whispered his name in just such a tone as
he had longed to hear.
"Only live," she said over his lips, her
breath, for the first time since childhood,
touching them in a caress. "Live, when
I tell you I love you, even as you would
have me."
The intense earnestness of her tone
called a blush to her face. He looked at
her with all the fire of the gaze she re
membered so well.
"Oh, I will live," he cried, pressing that
dear face to his heart; but even as he
spoke, that heart throbbed its last, )isld
ing to the strain which had been too much
for mortal to bear.
A few moments later, in a cold, still
voice, Marjory requested that the body
might be borne to her house, and she fol
lowed it in her carriage.
nTisttilaq.
Science and /Esthetic Phenomena.
We frequently hear protests made
'against the cold, meeftii'.:-.ode of deal
ing with aesthetic phenonac.. 0 toyed by
scientific men. The dissection Newtoa
of the light to which the world owes all its
visible beauty and splendor seemed to
Goethe a desecration. We find, even in
our own day, the endeavor of Helmholtz
to arrive at the principles of harmony and
discord in music resented as an intrusion
of the scientific intellect into a region which
ought to be sacred to the human heart.—
But all this opposition and antagonism has
for its essential cause the incompleteness
of those with whom it originates. The
feelings and aims with which Newton and
Goethe respectfully approached nature were
radically different, but they had an equal
warrant in the constitution of man. As
regards our tastes and tendencies, our
pleasures and pains, physical and mental,
our action and passion, our sorrows, sym
pathies and joys. we are the heirs of all
ages that preceded; and of the human na•
Lure thus handed down poetry is an ele•
ment just as much as science. The emo
tions of man are older than his under
standing, and the poet who brightens,
purifies and exalts these emotions may claim
a position in the world at least as high and
as well assured as that of the man of science.
They minister to different, but to equally
permanent needs of human nature ; and
the incompleteness of which I complain
consists in the endeavor on the part of
either to exclude the other. There is no
fear that the man of science can ever de
stroy the glory of the lilies of the field ;
there is no hope that the poet can ever
successfully contend against our right to
examine, in accordance with scientific meth
od, the agent to which the lily owes its
glory. There is no necessary encroach
ment of the one field upon the other.—
Nature embraces them both, and man when
he is complete, will exhibit as large a tol
eration.
The Latest Tennessee Monstrosity.
Five miles southwest of Kenton, Teon ,
on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad, is the
greatest monstrosity of the age—a human
being who resembles a frog. tie is a son
of E. Newell, is twenty-six inches high,
weighs forty eight pond., and was born
in Obin county, Tenn., March 12, 1875
His body and arms are regularly Lirnied
and well developed, his lingers are short,
and the manner in which they set on his
hands give them the appearance ofa frog's
foot ; his legs are small and are set at right
angles with the regular line of walk; his
feet are small and badly deformed; his
face is eight or nine inches long and makes
an angle of sixty two degrees with the base
of the skull (facial angle ;) his head is al
most conical; his eyes are small and with
out expression ; his upper jaw projects far
over his lower one; his lower jaw is small
and has a superabundance of flesh attached.
which renders him quite froggy. Ile can't
talk. If you throw a nickle on the floor
he will light on it like a chicken on a june
bug. He can't walk, but what is wanting
in walking is made up in jumping. I saw
him jump eight feet after a dime If a tub
of water is placed near him he will jump
into it like a duck. In rainy weather he
goes to the door and leaps out, and re
mains out doors until the rain is over.—
Obion county has given birth to the fol
lowing : The female dwarf's, the mud ne
gro, the sleeping beauty, and the frog
child. She is justly entitled to the ap
pellatien, "Mother of Monstrosities."—
Troy Xeirs.
--- - --+---
IN view of the fact that Watt's hymns
have been translated into the Choctaw
language, and have become favorites of the
braves, an admirer of the noble red man,
says it is very affecting to think of a noble
red man setting upon a fence and singing,
"How doth the little busy bee," while he
watches his wife carrying home a couple
of bushels of potatoes upon each shoulder,
and wondering if be couldn't swap that
scpuw for a jug of robust rum.
IF it wasn't for the law, a man could
make a fortune in half the time.
SUBSCRIBE lur LllO JOURNAL.
A City of Wild Pigeons.
TWENTY sQi An E MILES OF THE BIRDS
NESTI NO IS FOREST COUNTY, PA.
(Corrc.vendeneo of the N. Y. Sun.)
The great pigeon nesting of Forest
c• - einty, Pa., covers twenty square miles.
It is in Jenks and Howe townships, near
the source of streams that empty into the
Allegheny river. It is sixteen miles west
of Kane, and a hundred miles south of
Buffalo in a direct tine. The country is
almost an unbroken wilderness. No more
than ten persons live within the boundaries
of the nesting. There are roads, but they
are as rough as Tammany politicians and
surpass them in bruising power. They
were made by wood choppers and bark
peelers. Hoots and stones mount skyward,
and ruts and mud holes sink deep toward
the bottomless pit. The country is neith
er rocky nor mountainous. It is a hilly
slope, shaded with beeches and hemlocks,
and a few cherry, birch and maple trees.
The beeches bear a crop of nuts irregularly
and never two years in succession. The
nut is triple sided and triangular, and
grows within a prickly burr, much small
er than a chestnut burr. Each burr con
tains two nuts. The first frost cracks the
burrs, and the nuts drop to the ground.
Under a cover of snow they retain their
sweetness until spring.
These nuts attract the pigeons. The
condition of the crop is studied by small
scouting parties in the fall, and in some
manner is told to the main army, who ad
vance with the approach of spring. This
year the advance guard approached in the
latter part of February. They roosted at
the head or Minister and Porky Creeks,
tributaries of the Tionesta. A light snow
soon fell after their arrival, but did Lot
prevent them from securing an ample sup
ply of nuts. They swept downward in
groups of thousands and whipped the snow
from the ground with their wings. The
continuous flapping sounded like the roar
of a cataract
Myriads of birds poured into the roost
daily for the next fortnight. They came
in sheets that stretched from horizon to
horizon, and at times obscured the light of
th,! sun. At night over five square miles
of trees were loaded with roosting birds.
The noise was defenit - q.,!. At times huge
branches, broken by the weight el birds,
crashed to the ground, throwing the vast
camp into dire confusiou. The unfortu
nate pigeons flowed to and fro in the
darkness, uttering plaintive cries, which
were answered by their more fortunate
companions in the trees. A heavy fall of
snow or a gale after dark breaks many
ever-weighted limbs and spreads dismay
among the fleck. The fallen birds skulk
to cover and await the break of day, filling
the darkness with their cries of terror.
Farmers and others visited the roosts after
nightfall, and by the light of a blazing
fire, clubbed hundreds of birds from the
lower branches of trees with long poles
While sojourning at the roost the birds
mate. The Tom pigeon coos inmntly,
swelling his chest a la Conkling and ruf
fling the feathers of his neck. The mat
Ling lasts three or four days A thousand
millions of birds or more are courting.
The forest resounds with love making.
Frequently two toms court the same hen,
and a battle royal ensues. Eyes flash fire,
beaks are crossed like rapiers, and the com
batants use their wings as Irishmen use
shillelahs at a county fair. The hens stand
by, coy and modest, and give themselves
to the victor without reserve. Once mated,
the pair is a model of constancy. The
torn is all attention and the hen all affec
tion. Ile brings her the choices delica
cies and she rewards him with kisses Woe
betide the feathered roue who tries to
loosen the domestic bond. Respectable
married pigeons make cowman cause
against him, and club him from the camp
in disgrace. The pair, however, are not
mated for life. A nesting breaks the con
tract, and ever afterward they treat each
other like strangers. No tow was ever
known to fight for the same hen. If a
hen loses her mate she remains a widow
until the next year.
Nesting begins soon afier mating. The
birds never nest at a roost. This year the
first corps nested a fortnight after their
arrival. The nests are mostly made in
leafless hard wood trees, about twenty
miles from the roost. The tom gathers
the twigs and the hen interlaces them.
No artistic skill is displaye-l. The twigs
are woven without regularity, and the
structure resembles an eagle's nest on a
small scale. The interior is thached with
moss gathered from the bark of hemlock
trees. The tom finds the moss end the hen
does the thatching. It takes three days
to build a nest. When everything is ready
for house keeping the hen lays an egg,
and rarely more than one. During incu
bation the torn alternates in household
duty. There are from ten to thirty nests
in a tree Each family strictly attends to
its own business. The tom seeds his wile
and no other. The golden rule, however,
is not recognized. If a hen loses her hus
band she receives no sympathy. No one
offers to assist her in raisin.- '
her squab,
and while she is in search of food to keep
it alive it may perish from exposure under 1
the eyes of scores of unconcerned fathers
and mothers. _
The egg hatches within thirteen days,
and the nest is never deserted until the
squab is grown. The parents take turns
in procuring food. The tom usuaily shel
ters the squab from 8 A. M. to 3 r. M.,
and the hen does the same during the iii•
terveDing time. At night the tom roosts
near her. In cold weather the squab 3 are
fed three times a day. If the days are
warm they are allowed one or two lunches
in addition to their regular meals In For
est county the old birds were flying from
thirty to forty miles in search of food.
When nuts are scarce they journey over a
hundred miles. They fly at the rate of
about ninety-five miles an hour. With
distended crops they wing their way back
to their nests The action of' their wings
churns the food into a curd resembling
boiled rice. This curd gives rise to the
phrase "pigeon milk," two expressive
words frequently used without an idea of
their meaning. On the return to the nest
the squab puts its head into the parent
bird's mouth, and draws the milk direct
from the crop. For twelve days they are
fed on this substance. They are then as
fat as butter and as listless as toads at
noonday.
On the thirteenth day they receive their
last weal from the bills of the old birds.
Their throats are packed with beech nuts,
and they are left to their own resources.
The tows and hens arise from the tops of
the trees like a great cloud, and are quick,
ly lost to sight The squabs lie blinking
in their nests for hours. On finding them
selves deserted, they toddle to the rims of
their baskets and balance themselves. Al
ter a preliminary flutter of the wings they
strike out for a limb, reach it, lose their
equilibrium, and tumble to the ground.
They then wonder about like drunken
men for three or four days ere they know
enough to seek food or water. Fully a
week elapses before they are in good flying
condition. When they become lean they
readily take the wing, and skirmish for
themselves Their wing feathers grow
much faster than the feathers in their tails,
and when flying this gives them a ludi
crous appearance. They resemble boys in
monkey jackets. A lack of tail feathers
sends them rudderless through the air.
They are forced to fly in a straight line,
swerving gently between the trees. On
alighting they frequently pitch heels over
head, and appear dumbfounded. At first
they form small flocks, but as they grow
stronger of wing these flocks come together,
and the downy brigade pitches fir a good
feeding ground. Either instinct or some
kind-hearted old bird points the way, for
veteran pigeon hunters say that a flock of
squabs invariably finds the best feed.
The parent birds, nest anew within a
few miles of the old place. If the beech
nuts hold out they nest three times before
summer. After the third nesting the
myriad disbands and is scattered over the
country. In autumn they are found in
the woods from Maine to Texas and from
Washington Territory to Georgia. A very
few mate and nest in odd places in the
summer. All, however, re-unite in a grand
army about the beginning of a new year.
This flock nested in Forest county in 1878,
1871 and 1807. Last year they nested in
the Indian Territory, where there was a
superabundance of acorns. A great crop
of beech nuts is usually followed by a large
crop of acorns. The two crops seldom
grow in the same year. These facts are
derived from professional pigeon hunters,
who also assert that three immense flocks
of birds are now nesting in the United
States—one in Missouri, a second in Mich
igan and u third in Forest county.
To Keep the Hands White.
"The band is essentially the instrument
of touch." wrote Balzac in his "Physiolo
gic du Marriage." "The hand having
alone executed all that man has conceived
until it now is, in a certain way, action
itself. The entire amount of our capacity
passes through it; the hand transmits life
and leaves traces of magnetic power. Noth
ing, not one of our features can be com
pared to it for the richness of its express
sion. In a word, it presents an inexplica
ble phenomenon, which might be termed
the incarnation of thought." These lines
should suffice to make the marvelous power
of a beautiful hand well understood, as
also the fact of the necessity of neglect
ing nothing that might preserve or increase
this power, which nothing can replace. The
whiteness and finencei of its skin forms the
principal beauty of the hand. Put fifty
grammes of bitter almonds into boiling
water, so as to be better able to take off
their skins easily ; let them dry, and then
pound them in a mortar. Pound separately
thirty grammes of cherry buds, an equal
amount of orris root and starch. Nix these
powders with the blanched almonds; and
the yolks of four eggs to this and mix it
again, wetting this paste with two bun
dred grammes or alcohol and twenty drops
of essence of roses, or any other essence.
Warm this mixture over a slow fire, stir
ring it all the time, for fear it should stick
to the vessel. You then put this paste in
a jar, keeping it in a dry place, in order
that it may become sufficiently dry to be
reduced to powder. You can use this
powder to wash your bands, but it is better
to employ it dry and to rub the bands with
it night and morning which will give the
skin all the whiteness and softness that it
is possible for it to acquire. It can also
be used to make wrinkles disppear.
Use Salt.
In many a disordered stomach, a tea
spoonful of salt is a certain cure. In the
violent internal aching termed eolie r add a
teaspoonful of salt to a pint of cold water,
drink it and go to bed ; it is one of the
speediest and best remedies known. The
same will revive a person who seems almost
dead from receiving a fall, etc. In an apo
plectic fit, no time should be lost in pour
ing down salt water, if sufficient sensibil
ity remains to allow of swallowing it; if
not, the head must be sponged with cold
water until the senses return, when salt
will completely restore the patient from
his lethargy. In a fit, the feet should be
placed in warm water with mustard, and
the legs briskly rubbed, all bandages re
moved from the neck, and a cool apart
ment procured if possible. In many eases
of bleeding at the lungs, when other rem
edies fail, Dr. Rush found that two tea
spoonfuls of salt completely stayed the
blood. In the case of a bite from a mad
dog, wash the part with strong brine for
an hour; then bind on some salt with a
rag. In toothache, warm salt water held
to the part and renewed two or three times
will relieve in ni , ,st cases. It' the teeth be
covered with tartar, wash twice a day with
salt. In swelled neck, wash the part with
brine, and drink twice a day, also, until
cured. Salt will expel worms, if used in
food in a moderate degree, and aid diges
tion. but salt meat is injurious it . used
much
improving Noses.
A lady of my acquaintance was given
by nature a nose that was flat—a sort of
pun, with white nostrils. Meeting her a
t'ew days ago I did net at hist recognize
her. She was immensely improved, I asked
the cause. "Can't you see ?" she asked.
I scrutinized her face. "Yes;" I exclaim
ed ; "it's your nose, and it has grown out.
Well, I never ! What did it ?" Her nose
stood out to a proper length, and was as
shapely as could have been desired. "I've
got an extensor in it," she said ; but you
mustn't tell." "What's an extensor ?" "A
metal lining, or firm, which I wear in my
nose to give it a good shape. I'll show it
to you when we get home. She did show
it to me. It was simply two forms of silver,
colored red on the inner surface, to be
pressed up into the nostrils. They effee•
tually lifted the end of the nose ont from
the face, and were not uncomfortable or
discoverable. These articles are declared
to be an article of common manufacture
by fashionable dentists.
A FELLOW who hid under a sofa at an
informal Boston missionary meeting, says
that the thirty five ladies spoke twice of
the down-trodden heathen and more than
a hundred times of anew kind of hair dye.
IN giving geography lessons down East.
a teacher asked a boy what State be lived
in, and was amused at the reply, drawled
through the boy's nose, "A state of sin and
misery."
by :i;rcet organ
NO, 22.