a f iiiiii till Ittw , i ."''. . , , -1 1 - - - ' B. F. SCIIWEIEIt, THE COSSTITTITIOS THE UHIOS A5D THE EBF0B0EME3T OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXIII. MIFFLINTOAVN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA., WEDNESDAY,' FEBRUARY 5, 1879. NO. 6. TWILIGHT. Child, go and pray for see ! the niUt ia tier Through cloudy rifts the golden ligbia appear; The hilla' faint outline trembles In the mist: Scarcely ia heard a diatant cUariot list ! The world a at rest ; the tree beside the war Gives to the evening wind the dost of day. Twilight unlocks the hidir g place of stars ; The gleam aud ((low behind night's shadow bare. The f riuge of carat ne narrows in the went The moonlit water lies In ahin ng rest , Farrow and footpath melt aud disappear : The anxious traveler doubts the far and near. It is the hour when angels stop far and near. To bless our babes amid our careless mirth ; The little ones with eyes upraised in prayer, With tiny, folded bauds aud white feet bare. Ask at this, this twilight hour a blessing dear. Of liim who loves liis little ones to hear. Then, while they sleep a cloud of golden dreams Born in the calm 01 day's declining beams. Waiting in shadow till the hour of night ; Fly to each conch and scatter viaioua bright. As joyous bees seek honey-lsdea flowers. Dreams hover near in si umbel's qu:et hours. O era lied sleep! O prayers of childhood blest! O baby-voice, speaking a leving breast. Thy happy pray, r the darkness maketh light. Turneth to song the solemn sounds of night. As 'neath bis wing the birdie hides his head. Thou ahclttrest bv the prayer thy cradle-bed. Foster Brothers. The major laid down his book. 'These Iri.-li writers," he said, '-have much to say ofthe relations between fo ster brother. It is a feature of domes tic life almost unknown in this coun try, but I saw a curious instance of it once. Did I ever toM you the story of "The O'More?" "Xo, no!" We all drew our hairs closer to him. and lie began, nothing loth. "As a boy I lived, you ki ow, in a small towu in West Virginia. We had no slaves and little money among us; but were bitterly pro-slavery, and were more arrogant in our jetty notions of aristocracy than the great slave-owners of the eastern part of the State. When 1 was about 14, I met one day at the gate of the front yard a ragged, red headed lad of my own age. " 'Is it a b'y to carry coal, or dig, or droive the carriage, ye'd be w.intin' the day, zur?" he asked, with a laugh and a bow. "Now 1 was uot often called Mr, or addressed hat in hand, and of course 1 was conciliated at once. My father wanted a boy, aud I urged him to take this one. He was pleased w ith his ho nest, ugly face. What is your name?" he aked. "Michael, zur." "I took Michael out to show him the eoalbins, pump, and hi? room over the stable. A I turned to leave him I said, Have yo'i only one name' His face grew red as his hair. 'I'm the O'More zur. "What?" 1 burst into a laughter, but Michael stood grave aud anxious. "I'm poor, zur, and I worked my way acrast from the old country. But my grandfather w as the head of the fa mily : he's dead, an' so's my father. I'm the O'More." "I suppose jour grandfather, like yourself, lived in a mud hnt and ate po tatoes the year around ?' "Xo, zur ; he had a big house, and took tay with the queenevery weck,"r lied my protege, with perfect calmness. "I'm the first of the name as ever went out to sarvice." "And what brought you to it. Why did you leave Ireland?" 'I followed my foster-brother, zur." The answer puzzled me, and I asked no further questions, aud soon forgot Mike and his family in the anxiwty of prepsring for a Christmas party which ir mother was to give me, and which was to be of unusual brilliancy aud pretension. That evening she said to me, I have been to call on the family who hive bought the Scroope property. Their name is Liveridge, There is but one son, a boy of fifteen, and 1 invited him for Christmas Eve," Master Leveridge was the first to ar rive on the momentous evening. His step-mother came with hint. She was a high-featured sharp-eyed woman, with the peculiar accent of the educa ted classes of Dublin. 'A child's party is a new thing to Arthur," she said. "We keep our boy and girls in the nursery longer than you do; but it will do him good' When I married Mr. liveridge. I fount! the boy bad no companions but the children of hi foster-mother, a low crearnre living in a hovel on the estate. I was glad lor his sake when we came to this country and the connection was broken oil'. That kind of people are, as a rule, irreclaimably vicious. 'I. do not find them so," said my gentle mother. "Many of my truest friends are among the very poor." Arthur Leveridge in the meantime was talking with my sister, when a wild whoop rung through the room, and Mike rushed into it. a H-ultle of coal in his hind. "Faith. Master Arthy, is it yerself ? folloyed ye to Baltimore, an they towld rae it w as here I'd find ye I" hol ding Arthur's gloved hands, kissing ana jobbing over them, while the coal's ttere scattered over the floor. Arthur was a delicate, girlish-looking lad. He pulled his hand back in a rage of shame, and pushed the boy sa vagely away. How dare you come here-' he cried. Ills mother swept across the room to bis side. Mike cowed humbly when lie aw her. "Begone." she said, "you Insolent wretch? Followed us here, indeed! Judge Horrex. turning to my father, "this boy must be discharged from your service; he must leave the town". "Gently, gently, madam," said my father. We do not deal in that fashion in this country. Mike is neither a va grant nor a thief, but he has no busi ness here. Leave the room, air; take your coals and your affection where they are wanted." There was a flash in my father's eye which showed on which aide his sym pathies lay. The story of the foster brothers becam the town gossip for a week. Everybody paid- court to the Leverldges, but pitied poor Mike. Af ter a month I found that Mike was out every night scouring the streets with Arthur. Young Leveridge was ready fot all sorts of mischief, from ringing door-bells to breaking windows ; but be was terribly at raid ol being found out. Public justice was sharp and swift in town. 1 had some features, too, pecu liar to pro-slavery districts. The board of Magistrates were the seven oldest and wealthiest laud-holders. They ap pointed their own successors on reti ring; they punished offenders by fines, or by putting them on the chain-gang, a body of men who worked on the street, chained by one foot to a great iron ball. "One night as I was coining home from a school concert, I saw a heap ol wood at the foot or. the statue of Cal houn on the square. Xow this was on ly an ordinary figure, coarse enough, no doubt, but it was our only statue, and the town was proud of it accor dingly. Coming closer, I saw the fi gures of two boys, one ou the top of the heap of wood, busily tying a rope around Calhoun's waist, the other be low, begsng him apparently to desist. Ab, Master Arthy, it's hung ye'Il be, and no less?" I heard a frightened whiser from Mike. ."Get away, there ! Stand back !" "Arthur leaped town and gave the rope a vigorous pull. Down came the figure, and, from the sound, I knew that some part of it had been fract'ired. The boys stood motionless. "I didn't think It would break!" gas ped Arthur. There was a sound of approaching footsteps. "Run, run!" Mike cried, dragging Arthur down the square. "It's the constable !" But they were too late. When Shock, the one policeman, saw the injury done to this glory of art, his teeth actually shattered. He started after the retrea ting boys, and after a though chase, caught Arthur, and Mike at once sur rendered also. "A month in the chain-gang'll not pay you off for this you young vipers !" 'Michael turned on hiiu turiously: "Let Master Arthy go! It was I did it. He wor persuadin me to stop," weren't you. Master Arthy?" Arthur hesitated looking like a bea ten hound. "I did try to stop him," he said in a feeble voice. "1 hurried up, Mike's keen Irish w it read my purpose in my face. He shook off Shock hold, leaped at me, took me by the shoulder, aud said, in a fiere whisper: "It you tell, I'll kill you. But you can take your "batin" if you choose. Shock hauled them both away. The nest morning they were brought up be fore the magistrates. Mike told his story, and Arthur sustained him in it. Arthur was discharged, w ith compli ments on his kindness to the joor wretch. That afternoon, as soon as I was clear of school. I hunted up the chain-gang. There was Mike at the end. breaking stone, the chain rattling with every turn. He had taken off his jacket and covered the ball with It. His eyes were swollen with crying, but when he saw me he burst into a miserable chuckle. "That Is what the O'More has come to!" he said. When I met Leveridge I told him he was a sneak, a hound, etc. Then I went to the magistrates with my story. But, to my amazement, they pooh-poohed me away. It was my first Insight into the eight of caste. Eight years after this the war broke out. Mike enlisted iu the Southren army. Arthur became paymaster in a Not kern regiment. Yen would not find that young men where any fight ing was called for! When the army was in the Shenandoah valley, Lever idge, it apjiears, received a secret offer of a high position on the Confederate side, provided be would betray our corps to the enemy. The scoundrel consented. By some chance Mike dis covered the transaction. Leveridge left the camp and rode down to the river-side to meet the messenger from the Confederate army, to whom he was to give the maps, statement of the con dition, numbers, etc., of the Union troops. He had the pajers on his per son. It was late in the afternoon when the Confederate messenger approached and gave him the signal agreed upon. Leveridge banded him the packet, when, to his astonishment, the man tore it iu half and dung it into the river. "It's thrue. then! It's an informer ye'd be ! I heard talk of it in the colo nel's tint while I was kapin guard, an' I'd not be'.ave it !" "You ruffian? Am I never to have done with you?" Mike was a powerful Irishman, and every nerve was tense with passioti. He caught Arthur by the collar and 11 terallv shook him. "You shall not do it! The man that sucked the breast of my mother shall never turn informer! I've saved you many a time, but I never saved you from anything loik this." He turned him toward the Union picket-line, then hurled hlmfrom him. "There go! and fur God's sake, be a man, Master Arthy !" Leveridge panted out an oath. "It was your own side I was going to help, yon hound !" "What's sides to me? An informer! O holy Tirgin !" The man stalked away down to the river bank. The boat lay hidden in which he had crossed. He got into it and paddled over. The major stopped abruptly in his narrative. "Well, go on, go on," we said. "What became of him?" The picket guard saw him as he reached the oien space where the m on shone clearlT. There w as a sharp ring of a bullet. The poor fellow sprang convulalvely forward, reeled and fell, and the water closed over him forever. And Leveridge?" "He is living by his wit in California a mean, and consequently, a misera ble man." - V There Is no peace to the wicked. A Rascal Killed. A trial for murder was concluded re cently in Paris, which has created a great social excitement. A good-looking man of thirty, named Koche, was charged witb stabbing one Golbery with a knife In the bowels, on the 5th of last October, aud inflicting wounds whk'h caused almost Immediate death. The story seemed as if one w as reading few pages from Einile Zola's abomin ably clever romance, "L'Assommoir." Koche, the accused, seemed to be an honest. Industrious poor Mlow, who served creditably as a cavalry soldier in the war of 1870. After his discharge from the army he returned to his na tive village in the Department of Gers, where, having inherited a small sum of money, he met a girl of the locality who had been iu Paris for some years, and had learned a good tradeat Pleyel's piano manufactory, lit proposed for Louise Debat and married her. They came to Paris and set up a wiue-shop, and the man being industrious he ad ded to his earnings by getting the ap pointment of overseer or guardian in the tapestry department of the late Ex hibition. In his daily absence a man named Golbery began to visit at his house. Finally Golbery was introduced to Koche as an old frieud of his wife's, and the men w ere a good deal together. This constant visitor had been more than a mere friend of M.idame Koche. He had seduced her, and w as father of a child of hers before the marriage. He seems to have used his influence like a brute over the w retched woman, who had returned to virtue, and really loved her attached husband. Through men aces of disclosing her past conduct he forced her again to become his mistress. Filially, in her agony,- she confessed all to her husband, and he forgave her. He brought Golbery before the Police Magistrate, and a sort of reconciliation appeared to have taken place by the former lover promising not again to see the wife. However, after a while he began to wander about the street where the Roches lived, and to haunt their windows and doorways. On the 5th of October Roche had returned in the evening from the Exhibition, aud, seatd at dinner, observed Golbery grinning at him from through the win dow. He seized a knife from the table, ran out, and stabbed his rival and er secutor. It was proved, however, that the act was committed when no one was iu the street, that Koche returned stealthily to his house, and denied the act w lieu interrogated by a neighbor who too', iu the dying man, and beard from him the name and address of the person who wounded him. Atthetrisl, however, if he did not show much con trition, he exhibited much feeling and fondness for his wife, aud the daring dragoon who was wounded at the battle of Gravelotle wept like a child. The French jury acquitted him; the French Judge approved the verdict; aud Koche went home, a sort d herot with his wite. Touched Her Heart. One morning a woman living on Xa poleou street was se;n on t ie walk in front of the gate, heaving the snow right and left, and she had only got fairly settled to work when a boy loung ed up and remarked : "I'll clear off the walk for ten cents." "I guess I'm able to do it" he re plied. "But see how it looks" he continued, "Here you are, a perfect lady in looks and action, highly educated, and yet you grovel hi the dust, as it were, to save the pitiful sum of ten cents," "You grovel along and mind your own business," she curtly replied, still digging away. "It's worth ten cents," he said, as he leaned against the fence, "but I'm a fellow with some sentiment iu my bos som. Xow we'll say five cents, or just enough to cover wear and tear o' my bones. Give me the shovel and you go In, get on your seal skin sacq-.ie and best jewelry' and while I work you stand out here and boss around, and talk as If yon owned the biggest half of Xorth America, while I hail nothing and was in debt for that." She looked at him sharply, saw that he was in earnest, and w hen she passed over the shovel she put two nickels into his hand. He looked after her as she went iu, and then sadly mused. The Bank of France. There are sixteen di rectors of the Bank of France. Xobody can be a di rector unless heownstweiity-live shares of the bank. Xow, as each share is worth fix), each director must have $25,000 invested in the bank; the great majority of the directors have two or three times this amount of money iu bank shares, Rothschilds, Holtinguers and Says are among the largest share holders, and as they bought their shares w hen they were worth $400 each, their dividends on the money invested are an enormous per centum. Only the 200 largest shareholders are allowed to be present and vote at the annual meeting of shareholders, it being assumed that the interest of all the shareholders would be securer In their hands than if every ow uer of a share had a voice in the bank's management. These 200 shareholders consist of eighty-nine ier sonswhoown a hundred shares, and eighty shareholders w ho own about six ty shares. The Medicine of Bnnshlne. The world wants more sunshine in its disposition, in its business, in its charities, Its theology. For ten thou sands of the aches and pains and irri tations of men and women we coimneud sunshine. It soothes better than mor phine. The Good Samaritan poured ou into the fallen traveler's gash more of this than of oil. Florence Xigbtinzale used It ou tJie Crimean battle-fields. Take in into all the alleys, on boards all the ships, by all the sick-beds. Xot a pailful, not a capful, but a soulful. It is good for spleen ,f or liver complain, for neuralgia, lor the rhenmatism, for failing fortunes, for melancholy. The Dead Sea. . A question ot great Interest is, why the Dead Sea, iu receiving the constant flow of water from the Jordan, does not rise aud cover its whole valley, even up to the toot of the Hermon? The usual answer is, that the evapora tion is equal to the influx. To me it is hardly creditable that a surface of less than sixteen miles square, l' kept at the boiling degree, could convert all the water flowing iu from the Jordan and other rivers into vaor. The Dead Sea is very deep at some iiolnts nearly 1,300 feet and it Is strongly suspected that there are fissures, that have not been fathomed, that may even connect with the sea south or west. But if this were so. It is said that the water must stand at the level of connecting seas. The anwer is that the water of the Dead Sei, surrounded as it is by vast beds of salt aud oilier soluble matter, is nearly one-fifth heavier than the salt water of other seas; and, as it flows al ways toward these seas, and never re ceives from them nor mixes with their water iu its ow n Wd, the elevation of each must lie conversely, as are their sjwciue gravities. One difficulty in the way of accounting for the preservation of the level of the Dead Sea, at the mouth of the Jordan, is that the influx of water is greatest when evaration, in winter, Is least. Though a ri.se of the Iead Sea occurs lu w inter, it does not seem sufficient to account for the increase of water. If there Is an outlet, and It rises at any point up to the level of the surfai-c of the sea, the rise of the sea would lie limited, as are the waters of any river above ius falN. This limi tation is as reasonable as if the waters of the Dead Sea came to the surface again alter passing adjacent mount ains, provided there was, though there is nor, laud as low as the sea. The Dead Sea came into existence, as Is believed, by volcanic action, by an eruption of lire from the bowels of the earth. Sodom and Gomorrah were des troyed, it is said In the Scripture, "by a rain of fire and brimstone from the Lord out of heaven." The fiery vaKr of brimstone, salt and other substances, so abundant still even at the surface, were first shot up in the heavens, and then fell ujKin the devoted cities. As I visited Ponieil aud Ilei-ciilaneum and their excavations, I had no hesitation in receiving the prevailing theory of their destruction. Herculaiieum was submerged by a flow of hot lava rolling down the side of Vesuvius, while Pom peii was covered by a rain of red-hot pumice-stone. God rained it on the wicked city from heaven ; but it first shot up high from the seething caul dron of Vesuvius, and as soon as the wind carried it outside of the fiery force I luit sent it upward, it began to cool, condense and fall, aud Pompeii was soon buried out of sight, iu a grave of Are. It is not necessary, in order to lielieve that fire and brimstone were rained from heaven, to believe that God made these elements of destruction out of nothing, away up in the heaven above, for this wculd not even be true if the destruction had been by electrici ty or a shower of fiery meteors. It was not a miracle, in the sense that Jesus turned water into wine at Cana, but an extraordinary providenth.l control of the workings of X at lire, aud a secial coincidence, by which physical laws were used for the punishment of the wicked at the time when the cup of their iniquities was full. Such rjiccial pi evidences are equally wonderful, whether in suspension or control and direction of the laws of Xature. A Great Mark. At the last session of Congress au ap propriation of $50,000 was made for the improvement of that very serious ob struction to the navigation of the lower Ohio the Grand Chain. This is a belt of rocks souiew here in the neigh borhood of one hundred miles in lengtW The formation Is of limestone interspersed with flint aud, on the surface, extremely hard. After penetrating down a dis tance of two or thrte feet, however, it is seamed and perforated In every direc tion. Resting on, or forming a part of this immense chain of stone are a series of ledges, iu so:ue instances appearing altovethe surface of the w ater at a very low tide. The "boulders" ii the word describes them, have long been the ter ror of river men ; and many a valuable steamer, barge and flathoat has been wrecked ujiou them when the water w as "up." i he chain being, as it is, only some twenty miles above the con junction of the Ohio and Mississippi, it. at certain seasons of the year, blockades the entire river against anything but boats of the lightest draught. The War Department, in pursuance of the act of Congress, commenced excavatiug ou the chain some lime last August. Cap tain Philip Goatay, the engineer iu charge.and Captain Hiram Hill, Sujier intedant of the Hill WreckingCoiupany, aredoingthe w ork.The formation cf the rocks of the "Chain" his already been described, and it is thought best to dis pense with the tedious aud old time methods of ojierating with drill and gunpowder. The explosive agent used Is known as Hercules powder essen tially dynamite a preparation of nitro glycerine. Its power is simply terrific A half pound cartridge, placed on the top of a rock, with the water above it as "tamping,"will fracture it, so that fragments sometimes weighing many tons can be easily removed with the as sistance of the powerful machinery in use. The "diver" goes to the bed of the river and slowly feels about the obstruction, or rock for it is as dark as Erebus down there and tying a small line at the place where he desires to make his blast (so that he cau find it a gain), returns to the boat, takes the catridge or, more proierly, "torpedo and groping his way back by the aid of the line, puts it where It will "do the mst good" on the top of the rock signals, and is pulled back to the boat again. The torpedo. It should be stated here, is connected with a powerful vol taic battery on the boat by means of wires; the battery Is put in motion and bang" ahuge column of water is shot into the air, the rock is split In twainand the work ls-not done, because the di ver is compelled to return and attach chains to the fragments, by which tbev are elevated to the deck by a cmne, and thence transfered to a barge alongside. The work is necessarily slow and tedi ous from the repeated trips the diver is compelled to make and from the fact he must handle each fragment of the rock separatly and do it alone. Since the commencement of the work in August tome 275 cubic yards have been remo ved. "Jackson rock,' one tf the most serious obstructions, has been blown to pieces, and work is now going on upon the "Arkansas rock" or ledge A portion of a sunken coal barge still remains in the neighborhood of the "Jackson rock" ami it is feared a bar is forming clos by. The object of blowing out the "A r kansas Rock" is to take advantage ot the current and construct a channel at tint particular poinnt. The plan is to build a dike, or wing, about a mile in length here, and thereby create more current to drive away any sand forma tions that may take place alter the rock has been excavated. In addition to the dam spoken of, which will "run iu" near the "Arkansas rock," another similar dike will be built below. It is hojied by the engineers who made the survey that the dykes aud improve ments will do for the "Great Chain" what the improvements on the Rock Is land Kapids on theMississlppi have ac complished for that difficult place for pilots, render it safe and easy. He didn't Like the Soup. The free lunches of Xew York are among the good things prepared by the publicans of that city that are not to be despised ; nor are they, e-jecially by the class known as the "bummer." The free lunches at which soup is first served seem to take the strongest hold on the popular apjietite, as, to use one of the lamented Dickens' expressions, h Is "more filling for the price" the price lieing six cents for a glass of ale, or ten cents for something stronger. There is in Beekman street a saloon fa mous for Its soup, which, as a general thing, is kept on the table all day; but at times it runs out. The proprietor is a kind-hearted man, and never refuses a plate of the delicious broth to any, even though he be not able to buy a drink, unless he becomes too frequent a customer at the same place. An old fellow, w ho is fast becoming a tramp, has of late been lu the habit of calling iu for his soup, aud has never yet sjcut a cent in the house, but the caterer al ways gives him a plate. Recently the old fellow- w as late for lunch, and, as is sometimes the case, the soup was out. He asked the harkeeer for some, when the painful piece of information wa im parted to him. The caterer, who had just gone out a short time before, had left his large tureen on the table, emp ty of soup, but iijmii the top of w hich floated a few scraps of bread and vege tables. The tramp saw the steam rising from the tureen, and, thinking that the barkcecr wanted to defraud him out of his "square meal." he slyly slipped round to the lunch table, and. dishing out a plate of the soppy mess, he sea soned it well, and then, breaking up a few crackers in it, he hurriedly gulped down a few mouthfuls. The act was noticed by some of the bystanders, and from his apearaiice after the dose of suds they thought he wis going to have a fit. His face turned different colors with which a chameleon changes. His eyes stood out from their sockets, and he gasped as if in mental agony ; but this thing could uot last long nature finally revolted at the soapsuds, and the hero of a thousand free lunches was re lieved. He did not ask leave to quit the saloon, but walked out without even saying so much as "Thank you," or "Good-day ;" but before he passed through the door, he was heard tomut ter: "1 don't like such jokes, and I siia patronize this place no more." luheritsnee of Disease. The predisjiositlon to certain disea ses, like gout or insanity, often devel oped after maturity, is transmissable; and also the liability to die about a certain age. The famous Turgots, for more than a century rarely exceeded fifty years of age; and insanity often appears after the meridian of life in several successive generations of a family. The remarkable faithfulness of reproduction in the majority of ca ses is a fact somewhat parallel to the growth and maintenance of an organ ism, wherein, with the constant suc cession of cells each of brief existence, substantial identity is kept up. There seems to lie but little marked difference in babes, yet from the same food one w HI become a man of muscle and ener gy, another of nerve aud brain, a third a portly man of ease-loving habits. All the original peculiarities of each tiny human nucleus pick out from a com mon nourishment elements like them selves, rejecting the rest. One Drop of Ink. "I don't see why you won't let me play with Will Hunt," pouted Walter Kirk. "I know he does not always mind his mother, and smokes cigars, and once in a while swears just a little ; but I have been brought up better than that. He won't hurt me, and I should think you would trust me. Perhaps I can do him some good." "Walter," said his mother, "take this glass of pure, cold water, and put just one drop of ink into it." "Oh, mother, w ho would have thought one drop would blacken a glass so!" "Yes, it has changed the color of the whole, has It not? It is a shame to do that. Just put one drop of clear water in, and restore Its purity," said Mrs. Kirk. "Why, mother, you are laughing at me. One drop, or a dozen, or fifty, won't do that." "Xo, my son ; and, therefore, I can not allow one drop of Will Hunt's evil nature to mingle with your careful training, many drops of which will make no impression on him. Dying with His Boot On. ! A few days ago a drummer from the i Kat was taking a nip in a saloon near the Central depot, Chicago, and he put the proprietor up to a new dodge. It was to place on the hot stovfl what seemed to be an oumre ball and cartridge, but the cartridge or shell was of course empty. Very few loungers would cae to re main lu the room and wait for the ex jiected explosion, and once out doors they would give room to cash custom ers. The saloonlst procured three or four of the ''bombshells" aud the trick was a success from the start. When he had roped in three or four friends to aid him, they could clear the room of loafers in one minute by the watch. and the fat on their ribs grew lu thick ness. Recently an ungainly-looking chap, who seemed to have been frost-bitten by contract, and whose old overcoat was too ragged to even tangle the cold. dropped into the place lu a quiet way and at once rled to surround the coal stove. The saloooist asked him if lie didn't want a hot drink, and he replied : "Oh, I guess uot I'll thaw out by the lire after an hour or two. Pretty soon a hint was given him that he could buy a ten cent cigar for five cents, and that reminded him that he hail a clay pipe and seme tobacco lu his pocket. The saloonist thereupon determined to scare him out, and w hile fixing the fire he placed one of the de ceivers ou the stove and leaped away. w Ith the exclamation that some fieud had conspired to assassinate him. The stranger roe up, realized the peril, and called out : "How long 'fore the darned thing will shoot off?" "You haven't a minute to live if you don't get out doors !" wa the wild answer, as the saloonist made a dive for a rear room. "Pete Adams." began the stranger. as he shook off his old overcoat, "vou hain't got a tarns! thing to live for, and you might aa well go under now, when coffins are cheap. Brace up, old boy, and die with your boots ou whoop!" Picking up a stool, he knocked the hot water can off the stove at the first blow, and he was whaling away at the beer tables when the saloonist. rushed in aud screamed out: "Fly ! Fly, or you're a dead man !" "Welcome! King of terrors!" whoop ed Peter, as he tossed a table clear over the bar-keeper's head. Three or four men came in to help secure him, but before they had suc ceeded iu jamming him down behind the coal-lox they had bumps and bruis es enough to last them for a month. "I'm the clothes-pin that never flies from nothing nor robodv!" remarked Peter, as they finally let him up and sought to get $20 damages. He hadn't a red cent, and when he had jumped through a back window ami cantered down the alley, his faded and ragged overcoat alone remained to tell that he had been there. lis was a fighter. Speaking of duels, recalls a famous one. There was formerly In the French service in Algeria a general of Arab or igin, Yusuf by name. One day all Al geria was moved to laughter by a sati rical sketch of Gen. Yusuf in the local paper, under the title of "Monsieur Joujou." The writer was, it Is said, M. Arthur de Fronvielle, the editor of the paper took the responsibility. Moreover one fine morning, the journalist heard a terrible knocking at his door. "Come in!" It was Gen. Yusuf who showed his Arab visage at the threshold. He was followed by an ordinance officer, M. de Fronvielle was slill in bed. "Are you Monsieurde Fronvielle?" asked the General. "Was it you that called me 'Monsieur Joujou?' We must fight!" "At your command. General. I will have a couple of my friends " "X'o!no! no! none of that nonsense!" thundered Yusuf. "We will fight im mediately. Uuc'erstand ? I want to kill you !" "Ah ! in that cose penult me to rise. And where shall we fight, if you please General?" "Right here." "In ray beiroom?" 'In your bedroom." "All right. And this g 'nil. in in will serve as a witness ?" "Yes." "Very well. I'm ready for you now." Yusuf drew his saber, and at a sign his ordanance officer did the same. The bedroom was very small. Xtldng cheerful about this strange duel. "Take your choice, monsieur," said the General, holding out both swvrds. Fouvielle took the officer's saber. Yusuf threw off his tunic, rolled up his sleeves, and held his saber In his bare arm, which was carded with the mus cles of an athlete. His white teeth shoue from his swarthy face. P.wsibly Fronville recalled at that momenta lit tle affair In which Yusuf bad been for merly the hero. The general was in love with the Princess Kasoubah, the daughter of the Bey of Tunis. One day he subbed in the chamber of his mis tress, a Tunisian slave who threatened to expose them, and cutting out the slave's tongue, he threw It at Kasou bah's feet, with the remark : "He won't talk any more !" The reminiscence, if it occurred to Fronvielle, was sufficiently tragic to caue him to reflect, especially as at that moment Ynsuf, his eyes protrud ing from his head, uttering yells like a lackal, and bounding like a tiger, sav age, frightful, was making ready to transfix his adversary, with his very first stroke. This stroke the newspaper man fended, but it cut him terribly in the right arm. Ynsnf stuck the point of his saber In the floor and said ; "You can't use your arm; to con tinue the combat would be murder. We will finish this affair when you are car ed." , M. de Fronelelle saluted. The second duy after the light the general presented himself at the wound man's lodging. And regularly every morning there after. "I hope you m III forgive me for get ting well so slowly general," sal I Fron vielle; "a little pacienee and 1 am with you." "I am very patient" answered Yusuf. When the wound-d mtn was able to go out at last. Gen. Yusuf was the first to meet him. But It was to offer him his arm, and ask him to lean on it. All bis anger had slowly changed to es teem. Dus-s. That dogs have many huun:i emo tions is no longer disputed. Xot only do they show the ordinary brutal feel ings of fear, anger and delight, when their appetites are affected in any way, but they show huuun feelings of pleasure for approval, fear of reprcef, gratitude, jealousy, and aff.-ctionate memory. Many of the dog's habits, accordinz to Djrwin, are relic of his wild state. Probably many hav wtn dered why a dog turns round two or three times, and scratches the ground with his fore paws before he lies dowu. Darwin explains it as a relic or remem brance of their wild ancestors that trampled down the grass and scooped out a bollow in the grassy plains and in the woods. The lowering of the head and sometimes the crouching which dogs exhibit when they approach each other from a distance iu a hostile pirlt is, be thinks, another "relic of barbarism," for many wild fish-eating animals crough and crawl toward their prey. S. when watching their prey they will frequently keep one of their forelegs doubled up, ready to take a long c.utlous step, and hence, now from hab't, civilized dogs do it merely when their attention is aroused. He says he has seen a dog at the foot of a high wall, listening attentively to a sound on the opposite side, witb one leg doubled up, wnere there could have been no purpose of approaching cau tiously. Dogs and other fish-earing animal draw back their ears when they are aroused to the fighting point, iu or der that the ears may not be seized by their antagonist9, but Mr. Darwin does not think that a dog puts bis tall be tween bis legs when he is pursued or Is to be struck, btc.utse he is afraid his pursuer will grab it, but in order to withdraw his whole him'q'iarters out of reach of the blow or bite he is about to suffer. Gratiolet, a French physiog nomist, explains the wagging of a dog's tail when he is pleased by saying, that his j .yful emotions run along the whole length of the stiff spinal column, and when they come to the flexible tail they bend it and shake it. So when the dog feel affectionate, they lower their ears to exclude sounds, in crd t that their whole attention my be fixed upon the caresses of their master. Xot only were dogs formerly used to procure food by hunting other animnls but they were used by the Romans and Greeks in war; so that the phrase, "dogs of war" is liter.il as well as fig urative. .t"ar employed them in his army, and so did some of the wild tribes the Romans fought. When Mar ius, the Kinac Ganeral, had defeated the Citnbri, the dogs and the women de fended the ba?Ziure so savaiielv. that he was forced to o ht another battle in or- uckcrs, acting like pneumatic noidera. dertog-t possession of it. The dogs make escape impossible; and, as the thus employed were very savage, and lon8 rm9 hring the of j :ct nearer, not only pursued the fugitives of de-. the other shorter arms add their multi feated armies, but were sei.t alter de.J flied di.ks, forming "a pertect mitrail serters. The citadel of Corinth, when j Iue of inverted air pumps, which take besieged, was defended at night by a j horrid hold, and the pressure of the band of fll'tv doss. The garrison felt i lr U so great that nothing but closing so stcure. that one niirht they all went i to sleep, leaving the d gs on duty. The enemy a!f:ice,l the canine senti nels. LiVe Xapoleon's Old Guard at Waterloo, they fought until there was only one tuivivcr. liuding hiui eh alone, this an i mil retreated and a'arin eil the garrison, who came out and drove off the enemy. The Senate voted him a silver collar, with the in.-crlption on it, "The savior and deliverer of Corinth." and a monument was erected to the dog's on the spot where they fell with the names of all of them sculp tured upon the stones. Iu tho-e times war dogs were armed with spiked collars, and sometimes with coats of mail. Hounds were used lu ar mi'js until a comparatively recent peri od. The Earl of Esex, (j ieen Elizi beth's favorite, had SOO of them dur ing his campaign In Ireland. They were frequently employed on the Scottish border to catch thieves, marauders, murderers and cattle-stealers; and Robert Bruce had a fine one which his enemy, L r. of Lome, stole troin hira, and used to track and betray his former master. Kruce escaped by the well known advice of crossing a stream and breaking the scent. Eaatera Bazaars. As regards Eastern bazaars, the reali ty rarely comes up to the exjiectatioii They are quite eclipsed. I think, by a modern European street of well-furnished stores. Yet I can well under stand how. In a past age. they may have acquired their reputation, and they are by no means contemptible displays at present. The principle one I have er. tered Is, perhai, half a mile long, with side issues at right angles, say at an equal aggregate lenifth. It is of brick or stone, arched overhead, w ith win dows in the arches sufficient to admit the light. .In the center Is a passage way, eight or ten feet in width, aud on either side continuous ranges cf shops or stores, as we should term them. The goods are all open aud displayed, but back of them are magazines or stores, for further supplies. Theavenue was thronged when 1 was in, one to three thousand people, I should Judge, being present; and as Turkish trade is carried on with an immense amount of chaffering, t ie scene was very lively. Small shops, hardly larger than six by eight or ten feet, for the sale of goods, or the use of mechanics, are also scat tered through the city. But the prin cipal traffic seems carried on iu the ba zaar those dealing in similar articles constituting one bazaar. Crcelejrs Trouble With Ills Shirts. One Winter Mrs. Greeley went to tl4 West Indies for her health and the fol lowing Spring she sent for her husband to come after her and bring her honi to Xew York. Xow, If there was one thing the old man hated It was the sea. The very smell of salt water made him s:ck, Bat, nevertheless, he obeyed his wite'e call, as he was accustomed U obey her every whim. Ia due timo they got back to Gotham and that mor ning Mr. Sinclair received word that Greeley was not feeling well owing to his voyage, and had decided to stay at home for the day. In the evening Sinclair was going to Washington on business, and so, valise in hand, he called at Mr. Greeley's house an hour or two before the train was to start. He found the old man in bed, and actually very ill, having suffered terribly all the way out and all the way back from sen sickness. He was alone, the other mem bers of the family being ill or away from home, and so Siuclalr determined to pass the night with him, giving up for that time his trip to the capital. "Sinclair," be said, in that querulot whine of his, "I'm as naked as the day I was born. My trunks haven't arilve I yet, and I haven't got a nightgown." "But why not wear thl ?" pointing to the garment be had taken off before getting into bed. "Oh, I expect to get out to morrow, and I want that to wear then. How the blazes would It look after I'd slept in It?" Well, in due time his baggage arrived and Sinclair made a bolt for the article needen. After some rummaging ha found it, and assisted the old man to put it on. It was soon fastened at the neck, and the nurse took op one of the wrists and tried to button it. There, however, he stuck fast. The ends wouldn't meet by fully two inches. He tuged and twisted to his utmost, but it was no go. Still, as the patient said nothing, he supposed it ought to fasten, and redoubled his efforts for that purpose. For about twenty mi nutes be labored without success. Then he said, "'This is a failure. It won't fasten." "Xo," said Greeley, with exaspera ting calmness, "I knew it wouldn't. The fact is, I never could button the In fernal thing myself. But you seemed to enjoy it, and so I didn't disturb you." He lay back on the pillows for a few moments, as if thinking deeply, and then, sitting bolt upright, he brought his fist down upon the quilt and ex claimed, savagely, "If ever Mornionisra works as far East as this, I'll have one wife to tako care ot my shirts." The Octopus. Though all the octopods, large or small, can swim freely at will, such is not their habit; they prefer to lie con cealed, or partially so, on the side or in the clefts of rocks. There the octo pod's is protected from the attacks of other animals, while it c in extend its long feelers in search of prey, of which fish, mulluki, aud crustaceans are ths principal olj cts. Its movements, when an object of food is perceived, am marvebusly rapid, swifter than the flight of an arrow from the bow of an experienced hunter. The long flexible arms grasp the victim; its hundreds of he trottle-valve can produce relaxa- lion." This trottle-valve is ihe neck, as we have before described. Those lengthy appendages, the limbs, are ra ther in the way when the auiuial Is swimming, and act as drag-aiuhrs is left pendent; but the octopus usually draws them close alongside, whence they extend in a horizontal position, ac ting the part of a tail to a kite. It pro pels itself by drawing in and expelling water through Its locomotive tube. The octopus swims backward, and it has been remarked that it changes ita color to a darker hue when it skirts out for a swim. This change of hue, apparently at will, is one of the most peculiar cha racteristics of the octopus. It may be considered the chamleon of the set. Its ordinary color when in repose is a mottled brown ; but if irritated It as sumes a redisti hue, approaching to pur ple. Xiture seems to have been almost superfluously careful in furnishing this animal with protecting elements; for this coloring matter, which resides be tween the inner and outer skin, enables it even to a-sume the color of the ground or rocks over which it travels, so that one can hardly cay what color it is before it may have ch-inged to something quite different. When ex hausted after a battle or a struggle to get out of a trap, it turns pale like a hu man being. Oihers besides Victor Hu go have had a chance to test the strength of these devil fishes. Major Xewsome, U. E., when stationed on the east coast of Africn In lS.V-57, under took to bathe in a pool of water left ty the retiring waves. He says: "As 1 swam from one end to the other, I was horrified at feeling something around my ankle, and made for the side as I could. 1 thought at first It was only sea weed; but as 1 landed and trod with my foot on the rock, my disgust was heightened at feeling a fl.-sny aud slip pery substance under me. I was, I confess, alarmed: and so appearently was the beast on which I trod, for he detached .himself and made for the water. Smc fello'V bathers came to my assistance, and he was eventually landed. As the grasp of an ordinary sized octopus holding to a rock is not less than thirty pounds, while the float ing power cf man is between five and six pounds, I believe if I had not kept in mid channel it would have been a life-and-death struggle between myself and the beast on my ankle. In the open water I was the best man ; but near the bottom cr sides, which he could havo reached with his arms, but which I ennlil rot have reached with mine, he j would certainly have drowned me."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers