VOL. LIV. PROFESSIOX.IL CJIRDS. C. T. Alexander. C. iM. Bower. A LEX4NDKR BOW Eli. ATTORNEYS AT LAW BELLEFONTE, PA. Offlee In Garman's new building. JOHN B. LIXX, ATTORNEY AT LA W. BELLEFONTE, PA. •\# i \ u* v omce on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Northwest cornercf Diamond, D. G. Bui.ll. S. H. Yocum. D. H. Hastings. jjush, yoccm t Hastings; ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLKFONTK, PA. High Street. Opposite First National Bank. w M. C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Pract ces tn all the courts of Centre county. Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations lu German or Engt sh. w ILBUK F. REEDEIi, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Alt bus nes promptly attendel to. Collection of claims a speciality. J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart. JgEAVER A GEPHART. ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Offloe on Alleghany Street, North of High, w. A. MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on woodring's Block, Opposite Court Botue. JQ S. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, TA. Consultations In English or German. Office In Lyon'-. Building. Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office in the rooms formerly oecup ed by the late w. p. Wilson. TyjTLLIIEIM BANKING CO., AAI.\ STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. A. WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPB, Pres. HARI'ER, AUCTIONEER, t REBSRSBCEO, PA. Satisfaction Guaranteed. Let us iive as men who are sometime to grow ©id, an 1 o whom it will be the most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by former luxuriance of health only by the maladies which riot has produced. Good words do more than hard speech es: as the sunbeams without any noise will make the traveler castoff Ilia-cloak, which all the blustering wind could not do, but only make hitn ben ' it clos er to him : The damps of autumn sink into the leaves and prepare them for the neces sity of their fall; and thus insen-ibly are we, as years close around us, de tached from our tenacity of life by the gentle pressure of recorded sorrow. If you would relish food, labor for It before you take it; if enjoy clothing, pay for it before you wear it: if you would sleep soundly, take a clear con science to bed with you. Evil thoughts anfwofse enemies than lions and tigers, for we can keep out of their way; but bad thoughts win their way everywhere; keep your head and heart full of. good thoughts, that bad ones tnay find no room to enter. That policy that can etrikeonly while the iron is hot will be overcome by that perseverance which, like Cromwell's can make the iron hot by striking; and he that can only rule the storm must \ ield to him who can both raise and rule it. There is gold in the rocks which friuge the pass of the hpiugen, gold even in the stones which mends the roads, but tiiere is too little of it to be worth extracting. Alas! how like too m'any books and sermons. Not so the scriptures. They are much finer gold —their very dust is precious. in the decline of life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be that we bear easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded, we less regard others; or, that we look with slight regard upon afflictions, to which we know thai the band of death is about to put an end. The life that. is devoted to knowledge passes silently away, and is very little diversified by events. To talk in pub lie, to think in solitude, to read and to hear, to inquire, and to answer inquir ies, is the business of a scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terror, and is neither known nor yalaed but by men like himself. LIGHT THROUGH CLOU IS. Because I hold it sinful to despond. And will not let the bitumens of life Blind me with burinus; teais. but look beyond It* tumult au I its strife. Because I lift mv head abova the mint, Where the sun shies and the broad brae zee blow, By every ray and every raindrop kisnod, lliat (Tod's love doth l*etoW; Think you I find no bitter'ess at al 1 , No burden to be l rne like ('lit istian'n pack? Think you there aie no ready tears to fall, Because 1 keep theui back. Why should 1 hu.- 1 fc's ills wi h eo'd reserve To curse uose f and all who love me? Nay, A thousand times more S.OOI tkan 1 deserve God gives mu every day. And n each one < t these rebellious tears. Kept bravely back he makes a rainbow shine, Grateful 1 take his slightest gifts; no fears Nor any doubts are mine. Dark skie must clear, and wheu the clouds are past. One golden day redeems a we.iry year; Patitut 1 li-ten. sure that sweet at 1 st Wnl souud his voice of cheer. The Heart of Ice. The winter s day was drawing to a clic, and the bleak shades of a suowy night were setting in. In the silent seclusion of a deep and lonely glen, far from any other habitation, and souie length from the public road, stood a small cottage, known as the Glen Farmhouse, the property of Ralph Granite, who resided there with liis wife, s ml bad done so for thirty years. He was a cold, hard man—cold and hard as the name he bore. Mary Granite, bis wife, was the exact re verse, with a motherly face and a warm and tender henrt. On this bleak night of December, this night of storm, w iud and suow, Granite and bis wife were quietly seated in the large, homely kitchen. At last Mrs. Granite, dropping her knit ting iu her lap, broke the silence of the room. "I wonder where Alice is to-night, Ralph ?" "What do you care where she is, eh?" roughly exclaimed the farmer, looking up from his paper with a dark frown. "A night of storm never comes but I think of my poor girl! It was on such a night as this that she left our home, and to-night 1 have such a strange, feeling ac my heart." "Banish her from your thoughts as I have done—the disobedient girl.'' ,4 Oh, Ralph, Ralph, it is unfatherlv to talk thus! Remember that she is your ; daughter, my child—the only child God ever gave us." And tears came rushing to the poor moth er's eyes. "What claim has she on us now? A very dutiful daughter she proved, didn t she?" cried the father, bitterly. "When Alice disobeyed me by marrying that fop, George Convey, I tore her face and me mory out of my heart." "Alice was never a disobedient child— never, never!" wept the mother. "She loved a man who loved her truly. Sfte came to you and told you all; he, too, came, and asked your conseut, to marry Alice. What was your answer? You re fused, insulted him, and thrust hitu from your house." "As I'd do again," muttered the farmer, between his clenched teeth. "J hey were married in the village church." weut on Mrs. Granite, "and took the night train for the city two long years ago. From that time to this her fate and whertabouts have been a mystery, and she has never written to us." "Yes, she wrote," said Ralph Granite, his face growing still harder. "She seat two or three letters after she went awav, but I destroyed them the moment I received them." "And you never told tue." Oh, Ralph. Ralph, that was cruel!" "Not more so than her disobedience to her father's wishes. Come how. drop the subject." Once more silence reignAl in the farmer's cottage. Ten o'clock came and the storm continu ed with unabated fury. The farmer and his wife took up their candle, and securely fastening the door, took their way up to their chamber above the kitchen. Tliev"had scarcely entered the apartment when a pitiful cry was wabted to their ears from without. Mr. Granite raised the window and put his head out. "Whose there?" be asked, trying to penetrate the darkness. * A poor woman who has lost her way in the night and storm," said the sorrowful voice. "Where do you want to go ?" "I warn to reach the village, but I'm not able to walk any further. Won't you give me shelter. Pray do—only till morning!" spoke the wanderer out iu that awful storm. "Poor thing!" cried Granite's wife. "I'll go down and open the door." "No you won't." And the farmer stayed his wife; then said to the woman : "You follow the road a couple o' mile and you'll reach the village. We don't take m wanderers." lie .-hut down the window, and his wife fell into a chair weeping. "Ralph, Ratph!" she cried, through her tears, "your heart is ice 1 The poor woman will perish!" Tlie farmer made no answer, but retired to bed. Man without a heart, sleep on, for it is the last night of peaceful slumber that will ever visit your pillow. The morrow's dawn will bring to your house a horror which will blight, darken, and shadow your future on earth ; it will rend your icy heart as it was never rent before ! And the poor woman of the storm, where was she ? Out on the lonely road, where snow lay in drifts, and the wind tore by. On, on, her step faltered, she stopped, then fell. Fierce howled the wind, heavier fell the snow, and on the roadside* started up a face ; whit© as the snow that surrounded it, the face of the strange woman, rigid in death, in her shroud of snow. Morning dawned, with a blue sky, a genial sun, and a snow clad country. Ml LLHEIM. PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 1880. Farmer Granite ami liis wife were eating breakfast. The fanner's face wore a strange look, ami his wife was puzzled. i "Wife," stud lav, after finishing his breakfast, ami pushing baek his chair, "do you know what I'm going to do to-day ?" | "No." 11 "Well, then, I'm going to write to the I city and ask both Alice* ami tier husband to come out here." "Are you really in earnest ?" "Yes, wife. I've been a stern father long enough. I'm going to make up with A ice and her husband." Mrs. Granite's joy was unbounded. The heart of ice was melted at last. "I wonder what become of that poor wo man who came to our dr last night?" "Oh, she's in the village now, in all pro bability." A pain, heavy and sharp, seemed to catch his breath. Why did he start and seize the back of his chair to keep himself from falling? Four men were coining up the path— four neighbors carrying between them u plank, with something on it. They entered the tanner's kitchen aud laid the burden on the floor. The farmer HI d his wife were pule as the dead face before them. "A woman, .Mr. Granite," explained one Jof the men, "a woman as was found by us | four this morning, up yonder 011 the road. She's quite dead, sir. " "NN liy—why did you bring her here ?" gasped the farmer. "Cause I thought as how her face looked like—like—" A wild shriek came from Mrs. Gra nite, who dropped 011 her knees and tore the covering off ihe face of the dead wo man. 1 A cry of agony and horror came from • the farmer, as the dead face, with its open, ! glassy eyes, stared up at him. "Good Heaven!'' lie cried, covering his eyes, and staggering backwards. "It is Alice—our Alice—whom you re fused to shelter last night! Oh, Ralph, it j is the vengeance of Heaven !" A moau, and Mrs. Granite fell to the 1 floor in u swoon. "Our Alice?" moaned the striken father, kneeling at his dead daughter's aide, ami parting 1 lie frozen hair from the white tem ple- "Our Alice, whose brightness 1 have so longed for; and I—l killed her ! I was going to write for you to-day, Alice. It's j too late now!" His mind was giviug way under the aw-' ful siax-k. A letter was in the postoffice, and ha 1 | lain there for two weeks past. One day after Alico had been laid in t lie churchyard, Mrs. Granite received and read it. It was dated from the city, and from her daughter, telling that her husband had j failed in business and died, and that she was coining home -couiiug back to the place where she was born, for her heart was broken, ami prayed that her father might forgive her. The letter was received too late. It is summer, ami the little churchyard of the village is a blooming Eden. A double grave has been made; two cof fins have bem lowered into the earth, and the little slab contains three names —Ralph and Mary Granite, and Alice, their daughter. liusband, wife and daughter sleep to gether now, under the shade of the church yard willow. Kiithleeu Sons in the \Vr. Rev. Daniel S. Helton, a Baptist preacher of Roane county, Tenn., is 88 years old, and is as active as most men at 60. He recently walked three miles to give testimony at the county seat and re turned the same day. lie says: "1 can sight a rifle gun as well as I could sixty years ago, and only for a slight tremble of the hand would not miss one shot in a hundred" In reply to the question, "'On which side were your sympathies during late war 1 " he replied: "1 was always a Union man. 1 had • sixteen sons in the Union army and two in the rebel army, and my sympathies were with the Union fourteen majority." When asked if lie knew which of the hoys were right, he said, "I know which I think was right, cap'n. There war fifteen majority in that 'ar family including me. I helped the boys on the Union side." He has been twice mar ried, and is the fatluT of twenty-one chil dren. He served in the war of 1812, but draws no pension, it is said by the x --soldiers that he did good service during the war by aiding Union soldiers to communi eate with their families when they were in the rebel lines, and in many other ways. If he can't get a pension for services in either the war of 1812 or tliut of the rebel lion, he certainly ouaht to get a liberal one for his services between the two. The old man is in indigent circumstances. PwintH of Uw. A note on Sunday is void. A note by a minor is void. Ignorance of the law excuses no one. Notes bear interest only when so stated. An agreement without consideration is void. The law compels no one to do impossi biliites. The act of ©Heparin r finds al the others. A receipt for the money is not legally conclusive. Contracts made on Sunday cannot bo cn f< >reed. A contract made with a minor is void except for necessities. If a note is stolen it docs not release tko maker! lie must pay it. A note obtained by fraud, or even from one intoxicated, cannot bo collected. Each individual in partnership is respon sible for the whole amount of the debts of the firm. An endorser of a note is exempt from liability if not served with no;.re of his dishonor within twenty-four h i.rs of its non-payment. The ownership of personal property in law is not changed until the delivery, and the purchaser actually takes possession of such property, though in some Stales a bill of sale is prima facie evidence of owner ship if executed, even against creditors, un less the sale was fraudulently made,for the purpose of avoiding the payment of debts. A WIFE wanted her husband to sym pathize with her in a feminine quarrel; but he refused, saying, "I've lived iong enough to know than one woman is as good as another, if not better." "Arid I," retorted the wife, "have liv ed long enough to know that one man is a bad as another, if not worse!" California Driver I *. The California ranchmen have won derfu aptitude for driving, and one sees some pretty good examples among the hills. The road down the mouutain sides is entirely unguarded upon the outer edge, undthe de scent In most places is precepitous. A balky horse or a fractured wheel, or a slight carelessness in hand ing the reins, might easily send a carnage load of people to des truction—and an awful destruction, too. The path is wide enough for one pair of wheels, only, but, at intervals, in favorable places, it broadens so that teams may pass each other. To drive in such a manner as not to meet another traveler midway be tween these places is a special branch of the art. The huge lumber teams which carry wood from the mills in the mountains to the yards in the valleys, being unwieldy and very heavy, are -especially hard to manage. Yet the drivers always seem easy and non chalant. First, there is a large four-wheeled oaken truck, with a seat in front ten feet above the ground; behind it is another truck, somewhat shorter, but still enormous ly stout. These are fastened together and loaded with from ten to fifteen tons of fresh ly sawn lumber—lxiards and joists. This mass is drawn by six or eight mules or horses, guided by reins and a prodigiously long whip. The lirst wagon has a powerful brake, worked by a long iron lever by the driver upon his seat. The driver is a man of nerve and courage. His skill must be of the highest order. It will not do for him to take fright even if in imminent (lunger, und lie must know to a hair's breadth where lie can go, and where he can not. Towering up far above the road, overlooking the most stupendous depths, and guiding with a few i slender lines a tremendous force, he must needs to bean adept aud u tireless one. I Rut a beholder—ignorant of the danger that J constantly surrounds him—would say that his work was simple, and that he managed matters with ease. True, he seems so. With his broud-britned hat shading his sun burned face, his sinewy hands holding the reins with carelessness, his legs outstretch ed. with one foot feeling the all-important brake, he jogs onward with his monster charge without trouble or concern ; the lxils upon the horses' breasts jingle a little tune; j the great wheels crush the stones in the ■ path; the ]<> Ad creaks like a ship's hull in a sudden gust; wild birds sweep down into ' hazy, sunny depths below; yet the driver' se?ms to lake no heed, llut let a scare take j place; let a herd of runaway cattle appear i at a bend and set the horses wild, and then 1 sec what will happen. The dav-dreanier will become a giant of strength : he is up ; in u flash: he shortens his hold upon the reins, and feeling his wagon start up beneath , him, places a ft of iron on the brake, j The horses snort and rear and surge; the harness rattle, the dust arises, the load ! shrieks again, aud the huge wheels turn fatally faster and faster. An instant may lmrl the wagon down into the valley with its struggling train—a mod rush to the other side of the way may end all in one horrible plunge, muscle, eye, brain, skill are then brought to work so splendidly to gether that the peril is averted, and the looker-on, who knows not the way of the land, regards the teamster with profound respect t hereafter. The Karl of Ka*ex'* Ring- The gnv and accomplished Earl of Essex occupied a proud and enviable position. He was the favorite courtier of Queen Elizulieth, and had been loaded with honors and made Lord-Deputy of Ireland. More over. he had received a distinguishing proof of the affection of his royal mistress in the gift of a ring, aecompan ed with the promise, "That should he ever forfeit her favor, to return it to her, and the sight of it would immediately ensure liis forgive ness." But the alluring favor of a sovereign is often fluctuating and dangerous. Dark ness and sorrow soon overtook the proud Earl of Essex. He was sent a close priso ner to the gloomy Tower, under charge of high treasoh, and he must yield his life as a penalty for his crime. Elizabeth, with a bold hand, had signed the death warrant, and the time for his execution was rapidly approaching. lie had been conducted to prison in a way most harrowing to his sensitive spirit. The death instrument —the axe—had been carried in advance of him, with its sharp edge full in his view, and a merciless, curi ous crowd laid followed, cruelly taunting him. But his greatest danger came from his rivals and enemies. There were courtiers liigh in power and in favor with the Queen who gloik'd in his down!'a'w~coulcl He well" knew he was surrounded by treachery, and it was difficult to distinguish friends from foes. Could no trusty messenger be found to whom he could eonfide the precious pledge of past favor to his royal mistress, and be certain it could reach her? Long did he wrestle with torturing doubts and fears, and after much reflection be decided to make a confidante of the Countess of Nottingham. She had always seemingly manifested a strong interest in him, and had constant access to the Queen. Accordingly, she was sent for, and Essex gave her the ring, and begged her to take it to Elizabeth and entreat her royal par don for his offence. Unfortunate Essex! The messenger he had chosen in this dark hour of despair and agony was a °ecret and hitter enemy. As soon as the Countess of Nottingham had gained the ring, she hurried with it to her husband, and they mutually agreed to con ceal the ring and never reveal it to the Queen that it had been sent. In the meantime, Elizabeth, the great sovereign of England, was sorely agitated and sorrowful. She had firmly signed the death-warrant of the Earl of Essex, but without designing h s execution. His rich and versatile talents and manifold attrac tions had won her affection, and she anx ious to save him. He had her pledge of past favor —the ring—and her royal prom ise when she would behold it, it would ensure pardon for any offence. Why (lid he not return it to her? His conduct was unaccountable. Would this high spirited nobleman prefer to suffer an igno minious death on the scaffold rather than ask clemency. There was no solution of the mystery; and as the hours passed and no messenger appeared before tlo Queen bearing the ex j I acted ring, her heart grew hard and cold ; toward Essex, and she determined never, ! unasked, to revoke the sentence of death. Time went on. Elizabeth was suffering the keenest anguish, and she could not fathom the surprising obstinacy of her favorite courtier. Essex, too, was hope- I less and despairing, lie felt that bis doom was sealed. The Queen bad received the ring, but it had failed to awaken any feel ings of pity or mercy within her, and he could see no way of deliverance. The hour for the execution of Essex came. Accompanied by a strong guard he was conducted to theßcaffold. The heads man was there, and a erowd of malignant, I blood-thirsty people, anxious to see him i die. The fortitude of Essex did not desert him in this awful hour. Calmnly he luid his head on the block. The axe fell, and the envied, brilliant Essex was no more. The tidings of Essex's death quickly spread. Thongh he had many rivals anil enemies plotting his ruin, the heart of the nation was true and faithful to him, and the people were amazed and horrified. The soul of Elizabeth was shrouded with gloom, but she adroitly concealed her grief under a mask of gayety. The days and weeks con inued to come and go. The Countess of Nottingham grew ill. A terrible secret was buiicd in her breast, and its jxrisou was slowly destroy ing her. Her guilt robbed her life of all joy and light. It was ever fx fore her in all , its bideousness and blackness—a terrible accuser from which she could never es cape. Daily and hourly lier illness increased J Neither medical skill nor the most careful j nursing availed anything, -lier anguish i was dreadful. As her end approached her ! remorse was unconquerable. Again and again she culled for Elizabeth, and a mes senger was sent to summon lite Queen. In feeble, broken accents, the dying Countess disclosed to her her fatal secret. Without any concealment she confessed "that the Earl of Essex had entrusted her with the ring, to convey it to her; but at the instigation of her husband she bad kept it, and could not die in peace without her forgiveness." When informed of the truth, the rage of ! Elizabeth had no Inainds. She seized the | arm of the Countess, and cried: ".May God i forgive you, I uevei can!" it was a shock from which the Queen i neverßecovered. Her pledge of affection J had caused the death of lier much loved i Essex, and she could not be comforted. | Sx>n life became a burden. Her step grew weary and heavy. Ambition was quenched. She ltccame bitter and des jvttic to her people, and her days and nights were passed in tears and groans till death released her. Her last act was to appoint James, son of the ill-fated Man- Queen of Scotland, to 1K her successor. Elizabeth was the I greatest of England's sovereigns. She as- ! sen)bled around her the most learned and brilliant men of the times, who contrib-! uted much to the glory of her reign. She expired in the year KO7, at the age ! of seventv. A lieHih Duel. A bloody duel took place recently near Cot to wood, Mo., three miles above the Ar kansas line, and about a hundred miles north of Memphis on the Mississippi river, and resulted in the death of both the com batants. The quarrel was between two farmers, named A. M. Crockett and Doc. Nichols, nn'd grew out of Nichols' stock trespassing upon Crockett's lan 1. A bit terness grew up between them, and one carried his griefs into the courts. One day they met at the point mentioned when Nichols cried out: "You see I have not yet been arrested!" Crockett replied: "I see you haven't, you rascal, and 1 propose to whip it out of you right here!" Nichols said "All rtght; you just wait till I fix this coffee on my mule and I will join you in that little game!" Crockett quietly await ed Nichols movements until both men met. Crockett drew a large pocket-knife, while Nichols displayed a dirk, or bowie knife. The bloody work began at once, and blood flowed like water from the wounds each stroke of the deadly weapons made in the bodies of the antagonists. Crockett fiually got in a stroke on Nichols' neck which severed the juguar vein; having previous ly cut his tongue completely out. Nichols fell dead by the side of Crockett, who lay on the ground completely exhausted from loss of blood. He survived his wounds only four hours. No one saw the desper ate conflict, but a passing neighbor reached the place a tew momeuts before Crockett, died, from whom lie learned the above par ticulars. The centleinan did all he could for Crockett, but he had received his death blow. On Nichols' Ixidy thirteen wounds had been inflicted, while on Crock ett were eighteen. It is stated that the spat .where Uuty fought bore evidences of a long and most terrible conflict. Both men leave families, that of Nichols con sisting of his wife and eight children. Both wore respected by their neighbors, but Crockett was considered a dangerous quar relsome man, while Nichols was a peacea ble and very quiet neighbor. Fruit Drying Ky Cold Riant An experiment was made at a foundry in Placerwille last week, in fruit curimr, by blast of eold air. In this experiment about a peck of sliced apples were placed in a sieve and subjected to a cold blast for three and a half hours in the cupola furnace of flie foundry, and the fruit is reported to have been completely and beautifully cured by the treatment, remaining soft and with out the slighest discoloration. We were alxiut to say dried, but cured is a better word, for there wrs none of that hard, harsh stiff dryness about it which frequently re suits from drying by sun heat or fire heat The experiment was a most gratifying suc cess, and in our judgment is fraught with results of great importance to the growers and manipulators of fruit. The blast of cold air completely frees the fruit from its excess of moisture, with no possibility of burning or shriveling it. Compared with sun drying, it effects a great saving of time and labor. Compared with fire drying, it effects a great saving of expense, attention and risk. Anybody who can command or devise a strong blast of cola air, can dry fruit in a superior—we might say perfect— manner, without being dependent on the weather and waiting on the slow process of sun drying, and without the more expen sive resort to fuel and the risk of everheat ing. 1 lie Duke of Edinburgh. At un early liotir the Duke of Edinburgh is mostly to be found reading or writiug in bin own morning-room—a snug apartment, which like all the others iu the house is comfortably, not luxuriously, furnished. Deformed an it ia by exterior hideousness, East well supplies an excellent instance in favor of those practical people who insist that houses were not made to be looked at, but to be lived in. The rooms are well disposed for the purpose of circulation, and those in use every day are on the ground floor. Dining-rooin, music-room, drawing rooms, morning-rooms ami tioudoir are all on a level, and are therefore deliciously convenient and comfortable, full of air and light. Two other apartments on the first floor are of especial Interest to the select circles visiting at Enstwell. These are the day end night nurseries, absolute mo~ dels of what such apartments should be. To begin with, they are of immense size, perfectly lighted and -ventilated, furnished with light maple and cane furniture, and completely free from the stuffness of deep carpets and nigs. In a comer of the day nursery is a military tent, a birthday pre sent from his futher to Prince Alfred, and is treasured accordingly. It is a Spartan kind of un edifice, of gray-striped material, with a plain deal table and a stool—the kind of tent that dtr ulte Fritz , who did not like dandy officers, loved to see his own ensconced iu. Before a brightly-burn ing fire is one of those good old-fashioned brass fire-guards, several feet high, and to the left of this the cots of the four little children are arranged. The two youngest, tired with the morning promenade, are fast asleep; hut the little Prince is obviously already outgrowing the idea of going to hf d at midday, for he is laughing merrily at the joke of being tucked up again after his glorious run with black "Prince." IJttle Princess Marie, with her shower of fair hair spread over the pillows and her great blue eyes only half ojen, is a delightful subject foe a painter—a tiny sleeping beauty in the prettiest of woodlands. This mid day rest is part of the regular programme at Eastweli, ami appears to he successful, if one may judge by present results, for finer and heavier children of their age than Prince Alfred and his sisters could hardly t>e found. ! At midday the Duke of Edinburgh has got through his serious reading, aud per i haps some practicing for the family musical ! party of the evening, and is ready for a J drive round the park, which is beautiful and spacious enough to afford ample scope | for any species of out-door t entertainment. In tlie afternoon friends a'rrive from the country side, from London, from Paris and from St. Petersburg. Like the majority of those who prefer a small circle of friends to the crowd and noise of large assemblies, England's Sailor Prince is thoroughly ap preciated by all who know him. He is emphatically what is called a quiet man— i cheerful rather than joyous, pleasant rather ! than sparkling. Thoroughly German in his taste for nmsic and serious studies, he is completely English in his domestic life. ; No man is more pleased with the perfect working of his establishment—from the metropolitan inspect tor, who, with a brace I of constables, keeps watch and ward at East well to the clerk who attends his pri vate telegraph office. Old habits of disci pline picked up on the Galatea, and con firmed by recent experience afloat, cannot | be lightly shaken off, although the sportive 1 humor of early days may have died out. I | lake his brother, the Prince of Wales, the j Duke of Edinburgh likes good things in' reasonable quantities, and is a steady oppo- j ncnt of the German custom of turning din- j ner into a wearisome ceremony, protracted 1 beyond all reasonable limit by a cumbrous menu. At the little dinners at Eastwell there is no bewildering number of dishes, but a good, straightforward bill of fare, which may lie eaten through with perfect enjoyment. Rare things, however, appear at these modest banquets—dishes the mere mention of which sets the gourmand agog —wild boar from the forests in which Ar minius brought the Roman legions to naught aud sterlet from distant Volga. The sterlet, which is to the sturgeon as a smelt is to a whiting, arrives on some lucky days at Eastwell packed in ice. The eating of him is a species of celebration, and very good indeed he is when 'accommodated after the genuine Russian fashion. As a rule, music follows dinner at Eastwell; but at i times—on the days, for instance, when the Revue dm Deux Mondes arrives—the Duchess of Edinburgh, who reads a great deal in several languages, will return to her boudoir, *to learn the last words of the Frefich authors, whom she knows as tho roughly as the Russian poets aud novelists whose works are to l>e found wherever she is. There are no late hours at Eastwell; the life in which is simply that of the young parents of an interesting family, who find fair quiet and sweet rest among the Kentish woodlands. Observatory on Mount Etua. The Italian Government is about to con struct a large observatory on Mount Etna. A site has been selected at & height of 9,652 feet above the level of the sea, near the Casa degl* Inglesi, so called from a building erected there in 1811 by the En glish during their •ccupation of Sicily. The purity of the atmosphere is so great at its elevation that the planets can be observed with the naked eye almost as well as with telescopes of low power through the thick atmosphere of towns. Venus, when sinning alone in the heavens, casts a distinct shadow. This will be the second loftiest observatory in the world, the United States signal station at Pike's Peals, in Colorado, at an elevation of 14,336 feet, being the loftiest station, Arabian Proverbs. If your stomach is not strong, do not eat roaches. If one cannot build a house, he builds a shed. A bald-headed person does not care for a razor. The thread is quite accustomed to fol low the path of the reedle. The sole of the foot is exposed to all the filth of the road. The pot-hd is always badly off; the pot gets the sweet and the lid gets the steam. Without powder a gun is only a rod. He who waits for chaace will have to wait a year. He who marries a beauty, marries trou ble. Though a man may miss other things, he never misses his mouth.- We wake, and find markes on the palm of our hand, but we know not who made them; we wake, and find an old debt, and eanmet remember hew we incurred it. Healthy MIKI Unhealthy Occupation There Is said to be dust everywhere, but what constitutes dust is variable material. Many occupations, the working of fibres no less than the working of metals, develop dust utul seriously affect the lungs. Iron often settles there. A workman, who had polished iron, died, and his lungs were found to lie hardened and actually one per cent, of iron in their substance. Grinding, particularly needle-grinding, is very fatal. These grinders die at the average of 31. The grinding of other metal products is un healthy, but tea less terrible degree, and grinders afe proverbially neglectful or proper precautious. Making-ground glass is a hard life, and hardly any of the workmen at It are sound. Thirty-five per cent, die of OQUsugaptknt and tunny, lose thstrtesthmdbi suffer virtual lead poisoning. Diamond,, cutters are generally sick men. Vegetable dust is unhealthy, too. The man who pre pare moulds for cast nigs sprinkle them with powdered cliarcoal. They have finally a catarrh with black expectorations, and die of the disease. Millers do not suffer from inlialing dust, but they have a singular skin disease, oft nest affecting the left shoulder, where they carry meal bags. It itches at night only, and. according to some authorities, is not a vegetable matter but an insect. Making brushes is very bad for the health, as bits of bristle go into the lungs. In button making bone dust Is not injurious, but mother of pearl is, very. Feather handling is e feedbml, bad for the lungs and throat, and for the eyes, and artificial llower making brings with it. Working in copper actually makes the hair green and the teeth and it is said the bones, but it is not injurious. Copper is seldom worked alone and what is called copper poisoning is probably lead poison ing. Seamstresses suffer fro in poisoning from the stuffs they work. They also hurt their eyes, but the sewing machine, it is now held, is rather a benefit than any injury !t used only a few hours a day. It is the all day work at it in bad air that has given it its bad name. Tobacco-working involves a week or two of sickness at first, but thfa is overcome, and after it the woikmen are said to be particularly free from epidemic diseases. However its effects upon women are said to be permanently bad. There is I a great lack of children with them. Bleach ing is a cause of serious trouble from eczema, which comes from the hot water and lye, which also gives washerwomen cracked handsand eczema. Ninety per cent, of the people employed in preparing sul phate of quinine are taken down with severe eczeinatous troubles and often high fever. This is a disease that overcomes new workmen and which they only have once. Gasmen also have skin troubles from the violent sweating brought on by the heat, and changes of temperature also develop rheumatism. There is no bron chitis or lung troubles among them. The only way in which mirrors can be made without the horrors of mercurial poisoning is by using silver and letting quicksilver 1 alone, but considerable can be done in im prove the condition of mercury workers If they can lie made to keep clean, and not to eat in their workshops. Matches in every 1 house and every pocket are made at a terrible cost. Match-makers (not matri monial, but material), have their intellects dulled by the fumes they inhale and suffer dreadful necrosis of the jaw. No one with impci feet teeth can make matches and not loose his jawbone and teeth. Working in rubber produces "rubber poisoning," which is accompanied by catarrh and eczema and is marked by a singular development of despondency, that leads to disjfair and the abandonment of the work,"after which recovery comes naturally in. It is a singu lar fact that offensive odors are not un healthy. Tanners are proverbally well. In cholera plagues tanners are exempt. Butchers hardly ever know what consump tion is. Even scavengers of the lowest order are very well, and stables boys are aotori- OUBI - v ' X TJkVUI BHKMI W The lncenlmis ElcplutnL The duke of Argyl in his "Reign of Law** was, 1 think, the first who promulgated the dictum that man is the only tool-making animal. As far as I can ascertain, this as sertion is admitted by developmentists, yet it is undoubtely true that the Indian eleph ant makes two implements, or forms and alters certain things so as to adapt them ea pecially to fulfill definite purposes, for which, unaltered, they would not be suitable. One evening, soon after my arrival in Eastern Assam, and while the iive elephants were aa usual being fed opposite bungalow, I observed a young and lately caught one step up to a ban.boo-etake fence* and quietly " pull up one of the stakes. Placing it under foot, ii broke a piece off with its *runk, and after lifting it to its mouth, threw it away. It repeated this twice or thrice, and then drew another stake and began again. See ing tnat the bamboo was eld and dry, I asked the reason of this, and was told to wait and see what it would do. At last it seemed to get a piece that suited, and hold ing it in the trunk firmly, and stepping the left fore-leg well forward, passed the piece of bamboo under the armpit, so to speak, and began to scratch with some force. My surprise reached its climax when I saw a large elephant leech fall en the ground, quite six inches long and as thick as one's finger, and which, from its position, could not eas ily be detached without this scraper, or scratch, which was deliberately made by the elephant. I subsequently found that it was a common occurence. Leech scrap ers are used by every elephant daily. On another occasion, when traveling at a time of } ear when the large flies are ao torment ing to an elephant, I noticed that the one I rode had no fan or wisp to beat them off with. The may lout, at my order, slacken ed pace, and allowed her to go to the side of the road, where for some momeats she moved along rummaging the smaller jungle on the bank. At last she came to a cluste of young shoots well branched, and aftet •_ feeling among them, and selecting one, raised her trunk and nearly stripped down the stem, taking off all the lower branches and leaving a fine bunch on top. She de liberately cleaned it down several times, then, laying hold at the lower end broke off a beautiful fan or switeh about five feet long, handle included: With this she kept the flies at bay as we went along, flapping them off on each side every now and then. Say what we may, these were both really bona fide implements, each intelligently made for a definite purpose. Modesty in your furniture, equipage and words will show tha your mind is well regulated, and heart fre from passion. NO. 4.