-i. ..i i . .. .. , , , . ., ,. i. .i( ..,',r."jj,. . ... . i . ..I . i . " 1
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDUM. Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. IY. MDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THUKSDAY, MAY 28, .1874. NO. 13.
Victoria Grey.
A giddy young girl was Victoria Oroy,
One proud, and determined to have ber own
way;
And r&ther than bend,
She would lose her beet friend
She was one upon w hom one could never da
peud.
That she thought horsfalf charming was plain
to be seen
By her confident manners and satisfied mien ;
Bho was one of that kind
That one often will find,
With a small, selfleh heart and diminntivo
mind.
Victoria Grey had a passion for dross,
Tho' taste and good Judgment she did not pos
sess ;
On the street she would flirt,
And sweep through tho dirt,
With thirty-six yards of light silk in her skirt.
She had many lovers, it may bo a score
She had promised to marry a dozen or more ;
All felt happy and gay
At tho confident way
They wcro treated and loved by Victoria Grey.
Augustus Van Quirk was her fortunate flame
(Victoria loved his euphonious name,)
A weak little fehow,
Whose whiskers were yellow,
With little white hands and a voice rather
mellow.
ITe took her to operas, dances and plays,
He courted and wooed her in various ways,
Ho whispered a store
Of affectionate lore
That blighted the hopes of the dozen or more.
Thoy were married at last, 'twas a famous
affair,
Made brilliant by presents of real plated ware
'Twas a transient display,
The talk of a day,
And this was tho end of Victoria Grey.
Tive yoars have paseod by, and Augustus Van
Quirk
Has never been guilty of going to work ;
Just over the way
Is a small sign to-day,
" BoAnmNa Mrs. Van Quirk," (net Victoria
Groy.)
THE QUARREL.
They hung, heavy plumes of purple,
over the little gateway iu that bright
afternoon the 1st of June. A chari
table breeze swept one scented bnnch
of bloom a bit aside, just out of the
reach of a little brown hand that had a
moment ago ruthlessly stripped off half
its blossoms.
Eut the owner of tho hand had al
ready turned about, with a toss of her
black curls and a flirt of her pink cali
co dress, that scared the butterflies,
and before the branch swung back she
wes hastening up the trim garden path,
and flinging back a sharp speech over
her shoulder at a tall, sunburned young
fellow who, with a vexed light in his
eyes, stood iu the gateway watching
her.
"Oh, it don't matter what I think !
Indeed, I don't think at all. You may
take whom you like to the next May
dance you won't take me "
It was such a pretty shoulder over
which these words were caBt, and there
was such a rosy flush of anger on the
round cheek half veiled in curls, that it
is no wonder John Armitage took two
or three steps in pursuit of tho speak
er ; but he stopped, drew himself up
with sudden pride, and said one re
proachful word.
"Nancy!"
The one addressed wavered a little in
her retreat, then resumed it with in
creased celerity.
"Will you stop and listen to me ?" the
young man queried, his rising indigna
tion somewhut modifying his tone of
appeal.
" No !" and the pink calico swept the
myrtles on either side of the walk fas
ter yet.
" Veiy well," was the angry response,
as he ho had pleaded turned toward
the gate. " But mark my words : you'll
De eoriy lor tins before these bushes
here " brushing tho low sprays sharp
ly aside " are out of bloom I Now
good-by."
Nancy, peeping from behind a cur
tain after his retreating figure, cried".
Perhaps the soliloquy will tell why.
"Well, it's all over between ns now.
any way. it a his fault, too. He d no
busiuess to tako any one olse to the
May-dance when I couldn't go. I
shouldn't wonder if he's gone down to
Sarah Anderson's now. They'll be en
gaged next thing, and she'll crow over
me finely. He'll try to make me jeal
ous " here Nancy had a spasm of cry
ing. ." See if I won't make him jealous
first !"
The way she would do it became ap
parent the next afternoon, when,
dressed in a jaunty blue suit that set off
well her creamy complexion, dark curls,
and tinted cheeks, she started for the
village. The dainty blue silk parasol
was lowered a little as she came to the
pretentious block of buildings opposite
the hotel, upon one of which hung the
sign, " Dr. Miles Gray. Office hours
from 8 to 10 a. sr., from 3 to 5 p. m."
But the face of the building was blank,
and the office curtains lowered ; so,
with an impatient exclamation under
her breath, Nancy went on to the post
office, where, getting no letter, she
turned discontentedly toward home.
The Fates forbade her. She had not
accomplished a quarter of the distance
before tho light roll of wheels made
her turn her head and start perceptibly.
In a moment more young Dr. Gray,
whose natty top-buggy was the envy of
all the men, and wnose fascinating
smile had won the hearts of all the
women, had drawn up his horse at her
Bide, and leaped to the ground, and had
asked, eagerly,
" Miss Evans, may I have the pleas
ure of driving you home ?"
The color brightened in Nancy's
cheeks, the light in her eyes, as she as
sented with a charming smile ; and in
a moment they were slowly bowling
along the road, and the blue ribbons
were blown against the doctor's broad
cloth. Dr. Gray was young, handsome, not
deficient in brains, with pocket money
enough, to prevent him from baing
tragically earnest iu his profession, and
very much in love with the coquettish
bit of womanhood by his side. As for
Nancy, she was a little, afraid of the
gray eyes that could be quizzical as
well as admiring, and of the smilo that
sometimes curled the corners of the
black mustache. But Nancy was minus
a lover just then, tho doctor was a
"catoh," and so she laughed and chat
tered as the bay horse trotted along.
The farm-house came in sight too
soon, and the doctor stopped midway
in a speech to inquire,
" Won't you take a longer ride 1 It's
such a beautiful afternoon 1"
Nancy demurred, as in duty bound.
" I don't know. I guess it must be
'most tea-time."
The doctor laughed, and held his
watch before her. It was precisely
four.
' Oh, well, then" began Nancy,
somewhat confused. " But aren't these
your office hours ?"
" Confound my office hours 1" com
mented the doctor to himself. Aloud
he said, "I'm sometimes obliged to
break through my hours. I'm going
now to see a a patient on the outskirts
of the town." So they drove on.
The " patient" could hardly havo
been in a critical state. The doctor,
leaning back in the carriage, let the
lines lie loosely on the horse's back as
they paced slowly through shady wood
roads smelling of pines, while the warm
breezo fluttered light curls across
Nancy's arch black eyes, and the blue
silk parasol had to bo held up to keep
the sun from her rose bud of a face.
The doctor had a lurking fear that
Nancy was rustio and ignorant, but
ah I she was so pretty 1
How far they rode in this lazy way,
wholly rapt in conversation, is not
known. How far they would have rid
den is uncertain, if Nancy had not sent
a mischievous glance straight into the
gray eyes, and inquired.
"Why, where does that patient of
yours Jive t
The doctor laughed frankly, coloring
nevertheless.
"isee you understand the 'ways
mat are oars ana tuo tncKs mat are
vain pretty well, Miss Nancy. And
now I don't dare to tell you what I was
going to before you spoke."
" What was it ?" queried Nancy, curi
ous and conscious.
"It was," said the doctor, bending
nis own lace closer to the curl-shaded
one at his side, " that I wish I had the
right to keep you with me alwavs.
Miss Nancy, will you look at me will
you let mo t
It was well that the doctor did not
guess why, amidst Nancy's bright
blushes, her lip quivered and her eyes
filled with tears. She had made up her
mind to accept the doctor, but in this
decisive moment the thought of John
Armitage sent a pang, cruel in inten'
sity, tnrougii ner heart. Then came
the memory of their yesterday's quar
rel, and Nancy faltered, with a Strug
gling smile,
"I I dou't know."
She did know when, in the late twi
light, she and the doctor walked tocreth-
er into the dusky sitting-room at home,
where her father was dozing and her
mother knitting, to ask their consent
and their blessing.
"Dear me!" said the good farmer,
rubbing ins eyes. Two seen pieces
of news in one day 8 cur us hereabouts,
I heerd ou'y an hoursence that Johnnie
Armitage is a-goiu' to Texas to kinder
farm on his own account. I sorter
thought, too, that he an' Nanoy fancied
each other, but here she's wantin' to
marry another man. It's cur'ns !"
Nancy had taken her hand from tVie
doctor's arm and had sat down in the
window. She heard, mistily, com
ments and congratulations : she an
swered questions, langh'ed at jokes.
She walked down to tho gate with the
doctor when ho left, and stood there
under the lilacs, his arm about her, re
plying to his tender talk ; but when he
was gone, leaving a farewell kiss on her
lips, she rushed up stairs and threw
herself on the bed in a perfect agonv of
sobbing tnat sue could hardly stiue in
the pillow.
The story of the next week is hack'
ueyed. Such happenings are too com
mon. Nancy came and went like the
ghost of herself, but the whole village
was gossiping over her engagement,
and her evidences of trouble were as
cribed to the " queerness of a girl just
engaged." Little tired Mrs. Armitage
ran over across lots one afternoon to
tell the Evanses that John was going
Monday, and she guessed he would
manage to get over and bid them good
by ; and cried because her pet son was
going away, and was cool and sharp to
Nancy, evidently suspecting that she
was the cause.
Perhaps light natures suffer most
overwhelmingly. Often in those beau
tiful June days Nancy, all alone in some
shadowy, grassy place, with sunbeams
shimmering above, would wonder in a
dim, childish way if she should not
"die when John went." Only one
hope was left : John was coming to 6uy
good-by. Oh, if she could only let
him know how it really was ! But'how
could she ? and she would look down
despairingly at the little gold circlet on
her finger.
Sunday afternoon John finally came.
Nancy, sitting in the parlor with the
doctor, caught a glimpse of the well-
known figure at the gate under the
lilacs again. For a moment the room
whirled around, and she was deathly
white ; then she rose mechanically, say
ing that she must bid Mr. Armitage
good-by, and went out to the doorway,
where John was greeting her parents,
and warding off the Newfoundland with
a laugh.
lea," ho was replying, as Nancy
came up, "they say there s a pretty
good chanco out there for a young fel
low with health and energy How do
you do, Miss Nancy ? and I've always
been enterprising ; so I mean to try it."
.Nancy stood pulling the rose vines in
pieces while for half an hour the others
talked crops, politics, and prospects.
She could not have spoken for her life,
though she longed to speak as a con
demned criminal longs to ask mercy.
Not once did John turn his obstinate
auburn head to look at or speak to her,
and at last he rose to go. He inter
rupted himself, while detailing particu
lars about grazing lands, to say " good
by," while he just touched her hand.
If he had looked at her, the miserable
pathetio look of appeal on her childish
face would have gone straight to his
heart ; but he did not dare to look, and
turning away abruptly, walked down
the garden path with the garrulous old
farmer hobbling by his side. Nancy
had just time to escape her mother's
eye by running up the stairs. She dtd
not faint ; but God forbid that girls
should often know such misery as she
snnered then 1 When she at last joined
the dootor, as in duty bound, tho stunned
look in her face was pitiful. She " was
not well," she said, in answer to his
alarmed queries.
It was Nancy who proposed that they
snouid go to church that evening. In
the comer of the hi eh old new. with
her veil hiding her face, she could at
least bo quiet, and ore hour more of
ellurt would have been insupportable,
Mrs. Armitage was alone iu her pew.
and cried silently all through tho ser
vice. Nancy's heart so went out to the
poor woman that, when they met in
the aisle, she pressed her hand lm
pulsively, saying in a quiok whisper,
"Mrs. Armitage, I'm sorry for you I"
" I don't want any of your sorrow I"
was the sharp response " It's fine to
talk ; but you and I know well enough
who's the cause of all. One word from
you would stop it now if you were
' sorry enough I '
Poor Nancy 1 The clock was on the
stroke of eleven that night when her
lover llnally took his leave, and she was
free to pace the moon-lit sitting room
lrom end to end with set lips and wide,
glittering eyes. She did not cry. She
felt as if she were going crazy, and in
her desperation she did not care if she
did. Hour after hour passed, and still
she paced there, till her rigid face
showed whitely in the first faint gray
of morning. "Oh, would he go?
could he go ? would nothing happen to
stop him ? Scarcely knowing what she
was doing, Nancy slipped through tho
door, and hatless, trailing her dainty
blue skirt through the dewy grass, ran
across lots to the Armitages .
It was all still and dark and dewv.
She heard the village clock strike three
as she paused on the outskirts of the
old-fashioned flower garden behind the
house, and shrunk behind a hedge of
blossomy macs, whese potent odor sick
ened her. Her mind was in a whirl.
She did not know why Bhe was there,
or wnat she snouid ao. ne was in
deadly fear lest some one should dis
cover her, yet she could not go away.
For half an hour she cronched there
shiveringly, never taking her eyes off
John s window, but starting every time
the curtain blew. Suddenly a step on
the garden path startled her so violent
ly that she scarcely could suppress a
scream. It was probably some of the
work-people oh, if they should boo
her 1 A hasty peep through the bushes
showed her that it was worse than that;
it was John himself, striding straight
toward the gap in the hedge, and wear
ing a most unpropitious face. Nancy.
iu blind terror of discovery, crawled on
her hands and knees close under the
lilacs. He had passed, he was almost
by, when a bird that Nancy had dis
turbed new out with loud chirpings.
One end of the loosened blue sash had
caught on a stiff bough, and the color
arrested his eye. Two strides brought
him to the spot, and he stood with fold
ed arms looking down at her a moment
before his amazement found vent in tho
exclamation,
"Nancy I"
He had never seen such utter aban
don and agony of shame as that with
which the poor little maiden hid her
face and cowered in the wet grass, with
the cry.
" Oh, what shall 1 do ? Don't speak
to me I Go away I " and burst into a
storm of tears.
For answer he gathered the little wet
figure in his arms, smoothed the tum
bled curls, tried to warm the icy hands,
and did not dare to question, while he
soothed her in his tenderest way.
xaKe me nome, said jancy, as
soon as she found strength to speak at
an.
" I shall do no such thing," was the
decided answer, as John's disengaged
hand lifted her face so that he could
see it, "till you tell me why you came,
Nancy, I couldn't help hoping a little
when I saw you here. Don't make me
give it up ! I thought my pride would
support me through any thing, but I'm
afraid it won't," he ended sadly.
"I'm so glad it won't," breathed
Nancy, in tones of heart-felt relief.
" But somebody '11 Bee us. Take me
home, John, and I'll tell you all about
it."
now different seemed the way home.
with John at her side. But Nancy was
in no hurry to " tell all about it." She
only said, nerviously, holding John's
hand in both hers,
" Tromise mo you won t go away 1"
"An, but I want another promise
first."
Nancy looked back at the plumv
hedge whose shelter they had left, and
said, with a half smile, " You see the
lilacs are'nt out of bloom yet, John ;
and I am sorry, as you said I'd be 1"
"And the doctor? asks the critical
reader. Ah, Nancy is no model cf
Christian maidenhood. She is only a
faulty young girl, erring and loving and
Buffering, playing her part in one of the
tragedies that are played every where
in the springs and autumns, in the
time of snow-drifts as well as in the
time of lilacs.
A Terrible Situation.
On the Southwest coast of England,
far out in the Atlantio ocean, are the
Soilly Islands, a group of rocks and
reefs, with habitable isles interspersed,
On one of the rocks farthest out in the
ocean is situated the Bishops Rock
lighthouse. It is a lonely plaoe for men
to abide, and the loneliness was more
fearful on the morning of April 14,
when the violence of a prevailing gale
made the keepers tremble for their
lives. Struck by enormous waves in
quick succession, the massive stone
building swayed to and iro so violently
that every article within fell from its
plaoe. One wave reached the lantern
with such force as to break a great lens
in several pieces, aud another caused
other damage to the lighting aparatus.
The keepers state that although the
water is 180 feet deep by the rock, sand
from the bottom was found heaped up
on the lighthouse gallery,
STARTING A NEWSPAPER.
What It Csf to Try the Experiment In
New Yorlt City.
There being several projects for the
establishment of new papers in New
York, a city journal gives us some idea
of the cost oi such an experiment :
" In order to be really successful.
four-cent morning journal should have
a circulation of u&.OUO, with an addition
al weekly circulation of 60,000. It
conld not hope to have a daily circula
tion equal to that of the &'un or that of
the Herald. JNor are present indica
tions such as to lead the organizers to
expect that they could rival the weekly
circulation of the old straw berry-seed'
ling Tribune. During its first ytar, such
a journal would hardly reach a Circula
tion of 20,000. Its value, inolnding the
worth of the Associated Press franchise
(about $100,000,) and presses and typo,
would be about ssuuu.uuu. in the da
of Raymond and Greoley the Times and
Tribune were estimated at that price.
Shares of the present Timet) and Tri
bune havo. however, sold for 811.000.
The last purchase on the World was of
one-fourth the whole establishment for
$100,000. With such circulations as we
have mentioned a paper should have
from sales and subscriptions a yearly in
come of $500,000. Its expenses would
bo about as follows : Printing paper at
10 cents a pound, $2oO,OOU ; presswork,
Bullock, etc., $30,000 ; composition and
stereotyping, siuu.uuu; publication saia
ries, $20,000; ink, etc., $10,000 ;
editors and reporters, $80,000 ;
telegrams, SoO.OOO ; correspondence,
$50,000 ; advertising, $10,000 ; gas, $5,-
000 ; rent, $12,000 ; interest, $42,000 ;
office sundries of all kinds, $25,000
making a sum total for a year of $684,-
000. The expenses would be more like'
ly to be above than below this est!
mate ; but at these hgures they are
greater than the income from sales, by
$184,000. This sum must bo made up
by receipts from advertising. The usual
price for transient advertising is 20
cents a lino. Railroads, steamship
companies and theatres pay low prices ;
so that after deducting agents commis
sions, the rate is reduced to an average
of about 12 cents a line. Au ordinary
newspaper column, say the length of
one in the l imes, contains, after deduc
ting for spaces, about 250 ratable lines,
the value of which at 12 cents each
would be $30. As even at our low esti
mate, it would be necessary to make np
a dehciencv of about six hundred dol
lars a day, it would be demanded of the
publishers that they should daily fill
about twenty columns, or about three
pages of tho paper, with advertising.
Whrni they had done that they might
begin to expect pronts. now easy a ia
to lose or to make money in metropoli
tan journalism is evident from the fact
that one column at the average rate of
advertising is worth nearly ton thou
sand dollars a year. It must bo remem
bered, too, that the rate of expense per
sheet decreases with an increaso of cir
culation. For instance, after the type
is set, the composition for sixty thou
sand papers costs no more thau if only
ten thousand were printed. The same
may bo said of editorial expenses, of
rent, of interest ; the additional expense
for an increase of circulation always be
ing for ink, paper and presswork. There
are journals that make a profit on circu
lation alone. Weekly editions of daily
journals are 'lsually inexpensive, and
advertisements in them are very prout
able. Profits from weekly advertising
would go to decrease the deficiency be
tween expenses and reoeipts spoken of
above. They can hardly be estimated.
Chinese Trust.
In all plaoos in China you may see a
string of coolies rushing through the
streets carrying loads of money. There
is not a policeman to be seen, except
occasionally at the gates or in time of
trouble. You may see a shroff with a
lot of dollars in a flat tray, examining
them intently as they pass, click, over
his thumb; sometimes a posse of idlers,
consisting of chair-bearers, coolies,
cooks and servants, all looking on.
There does not seem to bo even the sus
picion that anyone might attempt to
kick the tray over and bolt with what
he could get in the scramble. Why,
even in that nest of iniquity, Hong
Kong, you may see at that most com
fortable of bailding, the Oriental Bank,
a lot of Chinamen counting and exam
ining, perhaps, thousands of dollars
that are being paid to them, and some
of the greatest scoundrels unhanged
passing constantly : perhaps they think
the men in the streets would most like
ly be honest enough to catch them, but
it is rather doubtful if they dare.
Money and valuables are exposed in a
way that would never be dreamed of in
England ; and the similarity of dress,
the narrowness and crowded state of
the streets in China, all would aid in
the escape of a robber. Twelve Years
in China.
Wisconsin Railroads.
The Milwaukee" Wisconsin referring
to the railroad war in that State says
that telegrams from various sources in
dicate that there is not much bad feel
ing on either side. The legal fare,
three cents a mile, is tendered in some
cases, and the company refuses to ac
cept it. The conductors do not attempt
to eject the passengers, for that would
be very foolish, but carry them to their
destination for nothing. They tem
porarily ride as " dead heads." Their
names are taken by the conductors, and
the attorneys of the company will prob
ably commence suit against the indi
viduals who refuse to pay the fare de
manded. This, of course, will subject
the individuals to some annoyance and
expense, inasmuch as in this way the
State will have in no form to bear the
expense of the judicial proceedings, as
it would should the Railway Commis
sioners commence the suit.
rT,Min.n T Mat a OTTO fTV
the Sun, an old New Yorker day before
yesterday; he had use leu one party
,o join another. Savs I. " What made
you change ?" Says he, "It's perfect
ly natural 1 should ! do so. Says I,
"Whvsn?" fiava hn. " Dnn't a man
always, when gets tired of lying on one
side, turn over ou the other side ?"
Says I, " Good day sir. "
Appearances Against Him.
The history of English law contains
few more startling judicial tragedies
than that to which the statute against
murder owed so much humane amend
ment as to make thclflnding and posi
tive identification o' the slain person
essential to the conviction of the mnr
dererer ; and as the same remarkable
case had a peculiar moral and social
significance for the young lovers of all
times, who, in their passionate devo
tion to each other, are altogether too
apt to disregard the fortunes of every
body else in the world, it may be re
called appropriately for modern read
ing. Upon the death of Mr. George Per
kins, a widower of considerable prop
erty in London, it was found that his
will appointed a brother of his, living
near Epping Forest, the sole guardian
of his only daughter, and directed that
said guardian should inherit the whole
fortune devised in case his young ward
should die either unmarried or without
children. Implicit confider.ee in his
brother, who was a midale-aged bach
of limited means, had, of course, in
spired the dying man to make such a
will ; but a number of family relatives
pronounced the document an extra
ordinary piece of servile fatuity, and
darkly hinted that harm would ensue
from it. This feeling caused an alien
ation between the occupants of the
Epping Forest residence and the afore
said prophets, and mado the latter the
bitterest prosecutors of the dead man's
brother in the.strange and tragio suc
ceeding events, which have been de
scribed as follows :
Uncle and niece were both seen one
day walking together in the forest, but
the young lady suddenly disappeared,
and the uncle declared that he had
sought her as soon as he missed her,
and knew not whither Bhe had gone or
what had become of her.' This account
was considered improbable, and ap
pearances being clearly suspicious, ho
was arrested and taken before a magis
trate. Other circumstances, hourly
coming to light, rendered his position
serious. A young gentleman in the
neighborhood had been paying his ad
dresses to Miss Perkins. It was stated,
and generally believed, that he had
gone, a few days before she was miss
ed, on a journey to the North, and that
she had declared that she would marry
him on his return. The uncle had re
peatedly expressed his disapprobation
of tho match, and Miss Perkins had
loudly reproached him with his nnkind-
ness and abuse of his authority over
her as his ward. A woman named
Margaret Oaks was produced, who
swore that about 11 o'clock ou the day
on which Miss Perkins was missed she
Hua paooins tlnouU iko loicsb Ulld
heard the voice of a young lady earnest
ly expostulating with a gentleman. On
drawing nearer the spot whence the
sound camo, Margaret Oaks testified
that she heard the lady exclaim :
" Don't kill me, uncle, ion't kill me I"
The woman was greatly terrified, and
ran away from the spot. As she was
doing so she heard tho report of fire
arms. On this combination of circum
stantial and positive evidence, coupled
with the suspicion of interest, the uncle
was tried, convicted of murder, and
almost immediately afterward accord
ing to tho customs of those days was
hanged.
About ten days after the execution
of the sentence upon the uncle, the
niece reappeared, and, stranger still,
showed by the history she related, that
all the testimony given on the trial was
strictly true. Miss Perkins said that,
having resolved to elope with her lover,
they had given out that he had gone on
a journey to the North, whereas he had
merely waited near the skirts of tho
forest until Jthe time appointed for the
elopement, which was the very day on
on which she had disappeared, ner
lover had horses ready saddled for
them both, and two servants in at
tendance on horseback. While walk
ing with her uncle, he reproached her
with her resolution to marry a man of
whom he disapproved, and after -some
remonstrances, she passionately ex
claimed :
" I have set my heart upon him. If
I don't marry him it will be death to
me ; and don't kill me uncle, don't kill
me!"
Just as she proclaimed those words
she heard a gun fired, at which she
started, and she afterwards saw a man
come from among the trees with a
wood-pigeon in his hand, which he had
shot. On approuching the spot ap
pointed for a meeting with her lover,
she formed a pretence to induce her
uncle to go on before her. She then
fled to the aims of her lover, who had
been waiting for her. and thev both
mounted their horses and immediately
rode off. Instead, however, of
going to the North, they re
tired to Windsor, and about a
week afterwards went on on a tour of
pleasure to France. There they passed
some months bo happily that in those
days, when newspapers were scarce,
when there was no regular postal com
munication and no telegraphs, they
never heard of their uncle's sad fate
until their return to England.
Ascent or Sap in the Bark of Trees.
M. Faivre has recently performed a
series of experiments on the mulberry,
hazel nut, and cherry laurel, which he
considers goes far to prove the fact that
the substances which supply the food
of plants have an ascending motion in
the bark, i or the purpose, he made
perfect or imperfect annular incisions
through the bark, or detached pieces of
the bark, to which buds were attached,
or removed entire cylinders of bark
from the trunk. The result of the ex
periments was that the buds always
continued to develop when the com
munication remained uninterrupted
with the lower portion of the trunk ;
while when this communication was
completely destroyed, the buds invari
ably withered away. If the bud was
separated by a perfect annular incision,
it withered the more slowly the greater
its distance from the incision ; and in
these cases the starch disappeared en
tirely from the portions of the wood
above the incision between it and the
bud. When entire cylinders of bark
with buds on them were removed, the
buds continued to develop, and even
produced braoohes bearing leaves.
A BARON IN DISGUISE.
The Florida Hotel Keeper who was very
Badly Deceived.
The people of Jacksonville, Florida,
are having their fun over one of their
hotel keepers. The story is told as
follows : A rough-looking man entered
the hotel and wrote his name upon the
register. His face and hands were sun
burned, and his eyes looked bloodshot.
The watchman thought that he detect
ed a smell of whisky about his clothes.
A gray flannel shirt, torn coat, dirty
breeches, and scaly brogans were all
that the visitor wore. The watchman
gazed at him a few seconds, as if un
decided whether to kick him out or al
low him to remain.
" Could I have rooms placed at my
service?" inquired the hard-looking
customer.
Watchman hesitated. Ho eyed the
applicant very closely and smelled of
him. There was a taint of liquor in the
air. " Oh, you wants a room, do yon,
old fellow ?" the watchman said.
" Well, just step here a moment, and
keep your hands in your pockets while
I run up stairs and see if the landlord
will assign you one."
" There's a man down stairs wants a
room," the watchman said.
" Who is he ?" inquired the Deaoon.
" A drunken old Irishman," was the
reply.
" What does he look like ?" was the
interrogatorv.
"Look like?" repeated the watch
man. " He's the worst looking Irish
man that I ever saw, and he's drunk."
" Well, slap hjm in No. 40. I guess
that's good enough for him."
" I guess that it's better than he ever
had before," answered the watchman as
he closed the door.
Down stairs he dashed. The bag
gage was all safe. The Irishman stood
facing the register with his hands in his
pockets.
" This way, old fellow," the watch
man exclaimed, again mounting the
steps. The old Celt followed him. No.
40 was a cramped apartment in the top
of awing of the hotel immediately over
the kitchen. The carpet was dusty,
the noso of the wash pitcher was
broken, and the furniture generally was
not calculated to please a fastidious
taste.
" Is this my room ?" the Irishman
asked.
" Yes, this is your room," replied the
watchman.
"Well, then," said the Celt, "I
must tell you that this won't do. I
want a larger apartment, one that is
well furnished and with sooparier ac
commodations." " Oh, you do, eh ? I suppose you
would like the ladies' parlor. You can
consider yourself mighty lucky to get
this room. If I was the proprietor I
would hoist you into the hay mow."
The old Irishman stared at the watch
man in perfect surprise. It was some
seconds before he could catch his
breath. "I'm greatly obloiged to ye
for your impertinence," he said, ' but
if I cawn't find accommodations here I
must go where I can find them."
" That's right, old fellow, you better
go to the Grand National. That's the
place for such slouchy old roosters as
you."
And the indignant old Celt walked
down three flights of stairs followed by
the equally indignant watchman. As
the old man was about to pass out the
front doors he met a half dozen hard
fisted companions about to enter.
"Hold on, boys," he said, "This is
too aristocratic for oos." Tho National
is the place for such slouchy ould
roosthers as oos."
And they went to the other hotel.
Two large express wagons loaded with
trunks traveled in in their wake. The
whippoorwills laughed at them as they
passed under the water oaks shading
the public square, and tho stars shone
brightly as they disappeared under the
portico.
Whet the Bun arose the landlord
came down stairs with a fine appetite.
" Good morning, Kingsbury," he
said. " How's your drunken Irishman
this morning. Is he up yet ?"
"No sir," replied the watchman.
" No. 40 wasn't good enough for him.
He wanted the bridal chamber, and I
made him dust."
Here the Deacon stepped to the reg
ister, and began to read the list of ar
rivals. Suddanly his eyes dilated. A
flush overspread his countenance. Put
ting his forefinger upon the book he
shouted, " Here, here, Kingsbury.
What's this ? Look here."
The watchman looked at the finger.
It pointed to the name of
; Sib Geokoe Gobe, England. :
" Oh, good Lord," he exclaimed,
" that was the drunken Irishman 1"
Sir G eorge is a western hunter who
visited Florida with troops of retainers,
dogs, guns, etc., and scattered his
money briskly.
On Shares.
A good story, and all the better in
being true, is told of one of our
citizens, who let a piece of ground to a
man on shares. The man would hire
the lot, but the owner, doubtful of get
ting any money of the tenant, proposed
to let it upon the promise of receiving
half the products. Occasionally du
ring the summer he passed the spot,
and was pleased with the cultivation it
was receiving, and with its goodly
show of vegetables. Harvest time came
and passed, and he heard nothing from
his tenant, till, in response to a hint,
the latter sent to him one water melon
and three shriveled cucumbers. In
dignant at this shabby treatment, he
called upon the man, and asked him
what it meant. "Why, you. see,
'squire," replied the tenant, "the
pesky boys stole all of your half, but
the melon and cucumbers."
A man in Maine has discovered the
advantage of a large family. He has
twenty-two children, and recently,
when he made arrangements for mov
ing from one school district to another,
thus transferring his school tax, his
old neighbors offered to pay him some
thing to remain among them. His sew
neighbors, however, offered to remove
him free of expense, and eo prevailed.
Items of Interest.
Amateur entomologists have found
71 different species of butterflies in the
Sierras.
Swinging is said by the doctors to be
a good exercise for health, but many a
poor wretch has come to his death by
it.
It is stated that over 500,000 Circas
sians have emigrated to Turkey since
the conquest of their territory by Rus
sia was completed.
A large coal merchant in England,
who is a teetotaller, declines all orders
from brewers or distillers, for fuel to
be used in their business.
There are said to be about 1.500 miles
of narrow gauge railroad in the United
States and Canada, and over 1,200 miles
in process of construction.
A pugulistic Irishman, being bound
over to keep the peace on all British
subjects, remarked : " Tho saints help
the first foreigner I meet."
Worse than gunpowder. During the
last ten years, $20,000,000 of property
haf been destroyed, and 30,000 persons
killed or injured, by tho use of unsafo
oils.
Bobbs complains that his wife is an
inflationist. She blows him up every
day, and makes him circulate uutil he
actually f eols that he is beyond re
demption. A girl in Liverpool wants to know
who has got her young man. She hasn't
seen him since the evening she told
him there had been poetry in her family
for several generations.
It is estimated that it takes a domes
ticated fly a two-billionth part of a
second to wink, while an industrious
mosquito can do it in one tenth of that
time. Corrections solicited.
The instructions to the police force of
Alexandria are : " Don t arrest the
Mayor or any member of the Common
Council for intoxication, but assist them
homo and say nothing about it."
A Boston servant girl, who thought
she heard a burglar in the house,
jumped from a window across an alley
more than ten feet wide into a window
of another building, the other night,
and there was no burglar round, after
all.
A bill has been introduced in the
Canadian Parliament to make each news-
Eaper writer responsible to the law for
is articles, so that if an editor
could prove that he had not written a
E articular article he would not be lia
le to punishment for it.
Joseph Harrod, formerly of Portland,
Maine, but now of New York State,
claims that ho introduced the tomato in
this country, raising the first plant in
fmm Reeds given him by a iriend
who brought them from Cuba. He ex
pected nothing more than an ornamen
tal plant.
The Massachusetts Anglers' Associa
tion, having become convinced from
the result of their investigations that
smelt during tho spawning season are
not healthy food, since they then are
full of parasities, have procured the
passage of a law to prevent taking them
at that time.
San Francisco is shortly to witness
an exhibition on a grand scale of the
electrio light, which, it is said, will be
so intense as to be visible at a distance
of 200 milos. The machine for the pur
pose has been imported from Europe,
and will bo run by a steam engine of
four-horse-power.
A well-known and respectable Bos
ton man, who wanted to be funny, ran
up to a lady at the Parker House whom
he mistook for one of his friends, on
Sunday evening, and pulled her hand
kerchief out of her pocket. He was
arrested instantly and taken to the lock
up, but on explaining matters was re
leased. Three hundred barrels of wine, ready
for exportation, were recently confis
cated in Paris. The contents of the
barrels on examination were found to
be a small quantity of alcohol or wine,
which was even wanting in some of the
barrels, water, carmine, cochineal, tinc
ture of logwood, sulphate of alumina,
potass, aniline, fuchsine, &o.
Birth-Place of Columbus.
Tradition makes Cogoletto, a small
town a few miles from Genoa, the
birth-place of Columbus, and there i3
an inscription which marks the house
of his reputed birth. It may be true,
and it may be false for, in this land of
tradition and superstition, it Is as easy
to fabricate a tradition as an inscrip
tion, and credulity is ready to believe
that it is as old as Adam. The house of
his father was in the suburbs of Genoa,
as is shown by the deed. He, himself,
says he was born in Genoa, an expres
sion which may well mean the territory,
and not the city, of Genoa. There is,
therefore, some color for the tradition,
and it is not worth while to dig deeper
to find doubts. He was a Ligurian,
and nothing could be mor,e likely to
sharpen his curiosity, and suggest a
life of adventure, than to look out from
these rocky highlands, upon the Medi
terranean, washing the fields at its
base, and covered with the little, but
daring and enterprising corsairs of the
Levant, the Grecian Archipelago, and
the African coast.
How time sets things right I Brought
home in chains, robbed in his lifetime
of his honors and his profits, and the
name of another given to his discover
ies, time has written his name " with
iron and lead in the rock forever." His
jealous and triumphant enemies, as well
as his royal patrons and enterprising
followers in the path of discovery, are
remembered ; but when we call them up
from the land of shadows, there is al
ways in the midst of them, and before
them, the great Genoese with a glory
about him, in the light of which they
shine with a pale ray. So it will be
forever.
He went on, when every other would
have given up in despair. He gave a
New World to the kingdoms of Castile
and Aragon. But Castile and Aragon,
and all the progeny of their descendant
commonwealths, are dwindling and
fading away, and a race, nearer akin to
the old Ligurian " the world-seeking
Genoese" is, from year to year, de
voting the New World to the great com
monwealth of freedom and mutuality.