VOL. LIV.
PROF ESS 10. \\ i L C\l RD S.
C. T. Alexander. C. At. Bower.
\ LEXaXDER & BOW Eli,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
ontee tn Carman's new building.
TOIIX B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
office on Allegheny Street.
QLEMEXT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE. PA.
Northwest corner it Diamond.
D. G. Bush. S. H. Yocuin. 1). H. Hastings.
TDUSII, YOCCM & HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
High Street, opposite First National Bank.
iy)L C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LA NY,
BELLEFONTE. PA.
Practices in all the courts of Kent re County.
Spec al attention to collections. Consultations
lu German or Engl sh.
VyiLBUR F. KEEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE. PA.
All bus ness promptly attended to. Collection
ot claims a speciality.
J A. Beaver. J. >v. Gephart.
JJEAVEK & GEPftART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street. North of High.
A - MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE. PA.
Office on woodrlng's Block, Opposite Court
Hiu-e.
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Consultations in English or German. Office
lu 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.
-yj-iLLHEIM BANKING CO.,
BAIN STREET,
MILLIIEIM, PA.
A. WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPE, Pres.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
REBERSBURG, PA.
Satisfaction Guaranteed.
Charaeter alone is immortal. Not
what we have, but what we are, is en
during.
Ideas, as ranked under names, are
those that, f< r the most part, men rea
son of within themselves, and always
those which they commune about with
others.
We can enjoy fellowship with God
only by walking where lie dwells. It
we would have the companionship oi
pure friends, we must.go in the same
society in which they move.
When we are out of sympathy with
the young, then we think our work in
this world is over. That is a sign that
the heart has begun to wither—and
that is a dreadful kind of old age.
fie who spends his younger days in
dissipation is mortgaging himself to
disease and poverty, two inexorable
creditors, who are certain to foreclose
at laSv and take possession ot the pre
mises.
It is easy in the world's opinion; it
is easy in solitude to live after your
own; but the great man is he, who in
the midst of the crowd, keeps with per
fect sweetness the independence of sol
itude.
When you doubt between words use
the plainest, the commonest, tho most
idiomatic. Eschew fine words as you
would rouge; love simple ones as you
would native roses on your cheek.
The be-t rec pe for going through
lite in an exquisite way, with beautiful
maimers, is to feel that everybody, no
matter how rich or bow poor, needs all
the kindness they can get from others
in this world.
If a man wants to be right and to do
some good in the worid he must not be
discouraged when he finds himself
with the minority. At one time or
another lie who accomplishes much
for the cause of trutli is sure to find the
majority against him.
When misfortunes happen to such as
dissent from ns in matters of religion,
we call them judgments ; when to those
ot our our sect, we call tneni trials;
when to persons neither way distin
guished, we are content to attribute
them to the settled course of things.
Did any one ever hear of a person
who because the r e be counterfeit mon
ey in circulation wouid have nothing
to ao with money ? Why, then* rejtct
Christianity teeause there are bogus
Christians in circulation? It is very
strange that so trivial and unreasona
ble au excuse should be so often offered.
TIIEKIVKROF LIFE.
The more we live, more brief appear
Our life'e Huecec diug stages;
A day to childhood serum a year,
Aiul years like paneing av.es.
The n'adsomo cuireut of our youth.
Ere pamnion yet disorders,
Steals lingering like a river smooth
Along its grassy border*.
But as the careworn grows wau,
And sorrow's shaft* ilv thicker.
Ye ears, that measures life to mm,
Why seem your pourses quicker?
When joys bavo lost their bloom and breath,
And life itssif is vapid.
Why, as we near the Kails of Death
Feel we its tide more rapid?
It may be stranje, yet who would change
Time's course to slower speeding.
When one bv one our friends are gone
And left our bosom bleeding
%
Heaven gives our years of fading strength
Indemnifying tleetnesa;
And those of youth, a seeming length
Proportioned to tlie.r sweetness.
CATHERINE.
If you think the lovers 1 ant going to tell
about were a pink and white girl, with
sweet eyes ami tine hair, and a tall, hand
some fellow saying soft things to her, you
are greatly mistaken.
We hail been at summer hotels, at the
seaside, and among the mountains, where
pert Irish girls, and sometimes pert or Yankee
ones, flaunted around the table in parti-col
ored costumes, and with hair frizzled and
pulled over their eyes, a la poodle.
We were tired of people, and wanted to
rest: so we induced a farmer's wife to count
us among her family, and let us share their
fresh butter and sweet cream. These and
the strawberries, and the chickens, were all
very nice, but the most refreshing sight
there was a real genuine servant.
She was a middle-aged woman, with
horny hands, hair touched with gray, and
a patient, sad expression in her eyes. Her
voice was low and pleasant, and her smile !
very winning, although she was uncommon
ly plain, and bore marks of an encounter
with that destroyer of beauty —the small !
pox.
C atherine—she auswered to no such pet
name as "Katy," or "Kitty"—always wore
a clean, well-starched print, with a frill of
the same at tin* neck; a checked apron, tied
with tape around her waist, and her hair
was always combed smoothly over her fore
head. She was one of those rare women
who can <ret up a dinner, and then, as if by
magic, put herself in perfect order to serve ,
at table.
Catherine was doing d >uble duty at this
time. The boy, whose duty it was to milk
seven cows and feed two hundred hens,
had gone home, ill, and as the men were all
bus} - in the harvest-fields, his work came on
her. The farmer had gone down to New-
York to get auother man. and was expected
home the next day.
That evening, we went out to see Cath
erine milk, and, as we stood beside her and
the delicate buff-colored Jersey cow she was
milking, we fell into couversatiou with
her.
She told us she was well acquainted with
her work, having been a farm-servant in
"Hengland." She thought work lighter
and wages better here than there, and re
marked :
"If servants were willing to bo like ser
vants here, and not be always struggling to
look like ladies, they might lay by a good
bit for a sick day, or for old age,"
I said that it was cheering to meet one
who was contented with her lot; upon
which she heaved a deep sigh, and I saw
that it was the same old story —"an aching
void," if no deeper sorrow.
She did not look up, nor court smvpathy,
but I could not help saving:
"I suppose you left your parents behind,
and your brothers and sisters?"
"No; my parents died when I were a bit
of a child, ily brother died ten years
ago."
"Well, one sighs for the very green earth
©f his native land," I said.
"Oh, well, I don't know about that,
ma'am; I never think of that. It's just as
green and sweet here. God's earth is about
the same all over;" and again there was a
deep, deep sigh.
We followed Catherine as she bore the
shining pails into the dairy, and there we
met the lady of the farm.
Yes, we mean just that, for she was a
lady as well us a farmer's wife. She met
Catherine with a smile, and said:
"Be patient ODC more milking. Catherine.
The master's coming to-morrow with a man
who will be twice the help to you Joe was?"
Catherine smiled and replied: "I'm not
a-weary. and neither am I impatient,
ma'am."
We left the brick-floored dairy, and as
we passed into the sitting-room, I said to
the lady, "That woman has some great sor
row."
"Oh, no; only perhaps a little "omesick
for hold Hengland;' " was the reply. "She
has has been with me two years, and has
never speken of any trouble.
"I have had my suspicions, however,"
she added, "that she might have a husband
somewhere, although she passes for an old
maid. The worthy man in our cottage,
who has a nice home and some money,
wanted to marry her, last winter, to secure
a good another for his boys. But she said,
'No. that she 'ad no' cart for marrying.' "
When the open wagon came up from the
depot, about sunset next day, we all went
to the kitchen door to welcome "the mas
ter," and to take a peep at the new man.
Catherine stood in the doorway, the pic
ture of neatness. She was dressed in one
of her "Henglish gowns," in which good
sized cowslips reposed on a ground of re
freshing lilac color.
I complimented her dres6, and her high
topped comb, and her broad muslin collar,
when she smiled and replied:
"These all were given me at a tair at
'ome, years agoue, and I have worn them
out twice. Some way, I just felt like dress
ing up this afternoon. Perhaps it was to
please you, who have spoke so kind to me."
"Thank you, Catherine. Here comes
the wagon. See what a great muscular
fellow the master has brought!"
' The master gave the reins to one of the
hay-makers who was just coming in to tea,
bade another to take Timothy's "box" into
the barn-chamber, and then he walked into
the kitchen with his new giant, saying:
"Com# in and get your supper, so as to
Ml LI,II KIM. PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1880.
■ feel (it home before you go to your room.
Catherine!"
Catherine hnil fled; and the man, who
had caught glimpse of her, stood looking
a) the door through which she had vauisli
•d. his eye* aud mouth wide open.
' "Catherine, coiuo now and give your
countryman a good supper!" called the
farmer.
In a moment she appeared in the door
way, as pale as marble; and the great, good
looking, middle-aged man made a bound
for her. and caught her in his arms, and
showered kisses—which souuded like the
report of patent pop-guns—on her pale
face.
He then held her ofl' at arm's length aud
cried:
"Is it ye, indeed, Catherine, that I thought
dead, found by a uiericlo?"
"O Timothy!" gasped Catherine, "I'd
long thought ye dead in Haustraiia!"
"I never set foot on it, sinner as 1 was to
tell ve 1 was goin'."
Here we all withdrew from what should
be a strictly private conference.
That night Catherine tapped at my door;
and, when admitted, she said, with a cour
tesy:
! "I couldn't let ye sleep, ma'am, till I'd
explained, lest ye might think me an on
-11 lodest girl that a stranger would dare he
kissing.
"Timothy and me were 'trotlied to each
other at 'ome, and for four years wo were
struggling to lay up a hit to come to Llam
ortea with. 1 was by natur' a hit sad, and
'e was the merriest lad in the town. 'E
would tease mo at times, telling mo Vd
found a fairer nor me, and would marry
her, and so used to fret me.
"But we'd always make up, and'e'dsay'e
wouldn't change me for any girl in the land.
But Vd soon he hat it again.
44 'E tried it once to hofteu. 'Ecame in,
sayin' V was goin' liolT to Haustraiia, and
wouldn't be hack for ten years, and hid me
farewell. I couldn't hear the mortification,
and I made up my mind to leave Heng
land.
"When night came, I put my box in the
wagoner's 'nnds, and went to Liverpool,
and took ship for 'ere. 1 halways thought
'iin in Haustraiia, and 'e thought me crazed
or dead when I was not to be found. But
Vs suffered enough, poor dear lad.
"Aye. though such long years ha' gone
by. Vs never loved another, and 'is Yart is
just breakin 1 wi' gratitude to God for bring
ing 'mi safe to me. 44 'E's promised, sol
emn as an oath, never to tease me more,
and I've pledged me never to he a silly loon,
but a wise, sensible woman, worthy to lie
'is wife. I've asked leave of the mistress
to go to the minister with iin to-morrow ;
aud the master 'lmself offered to drive u*
'hover in 'is best wagon."
"But you have no wedding dress." I
said.
"O dear lady, if I 'ad a thousand o' 'em,
I'd throw them all aside and wear the cow
slip gown that Timothy gave uie at the
fair!"
The next evening, we had a wedding
supper in the dining-room; and we all
waited on Catherine and Timothy. We
gave them wedding-presents, and wished
them joy, and made them the happiest
couple in town.
The Sensitive riant.
The idea of subjecting this remarkable
plant to the action of anesthetics was na
tural, and several experiments of the kind
are recorded, the plant having been placed
in vapors of ether or chloroform. Recently,
Mr. Arloing has made some interesting
observations of the effects of chlora, chlo
roform, and ether presented for absorption
at the roats. The pots were sprinkled with
aqueous solutions of these substances, then
covered to prevent, escape of the vftpors.
After absorption of chloroform or ether,
one notes primary and secondary effects;
the former are phenomena of excitation si
milar to those arising from mechanical irri
tation, and comparable to those in animals
when anaesthetized. They occur sucessively
from the bottom to the top of the stem. In
thirty to sixty minutes the common petioles
(or leaf-steins) straighten andjhe leaflets
separate, beginning from the top of the
stem; but the plant is now found to have
lost its sensibility. The secondary effects
consists of elimination of the amesthetic.
The sensibility often does not return for
one and a-half or two hours. Chloral does
not act anajsthetically on the sensitive
plant.— These observations afforded M.
Arloing au opportunity of ascertaining ve
locity of liquids in the stem and brauchesof
plants under strictly physiological condi
tions whereas past experiments on the sub
ject have been made with withered or mu
tilated plants. If the leaves are in good
state, the common petioles bend down sud
denly and successively from below upwards
in the plant as the absorbed chloroform
reaches them. Hence, knowing the di
mensions of the plant the velocity
of the chloroformizcd water in
the stem and primary petioles ran be easily
calculated. Within the stem, the velocity
is modified by the state of the tissues and
foliage, the temperature, Ac.; it was found
in different cases, at the rate of 0.90 met
! res, 2.22 metres, 2.40 metres, and ,">.76
! metres per hour. The velocity increases
! from the base to the lop of the stent in the
: ratio of 1 to 1.25 or 1.50, and it is one and
a half times or twice as great in the petioles
as in the stem. The time of absorption by
the roots wtis found to vary from two to
six and a half minutes.
Fining; a Judge.
A Daniel has come to judgment in the
person of Judge Eldridge, of Memphis,
Tenn., who requires the officers of the Cir
cuit to be prompt in their attendance under
penalty of tine. One day recently he was
late himself, and business was, of course,
suspended until he appeared. He mounted
the bench with the stern aspect of Brutus.
"Mr. Clark," he observed, "you will please
sah, enter up a fine against Judge Eldridge
for absence without an excuse.' 1 This was
done amid breathless silence, but soon after -
ward Attorney General Duval made a most
eloquent appeal in favor of remitting the
fine. He referred in touching terms to the
uniform promptness of Judge Eldridge, and
to Ins.devotion to the duties of his official
position. Then followed W. J. Rives, in
a speech in which logic and pathos were
most delicately and ingeniously interwoven.
But the eloquence of both attorneys fell on
stony ears. The Court observed that while
edified and moved by the eloquence of the
learned counsel, its determination to punish
the offender was inflexible. Bartlett might
pass away; the time might arrive when
Memphis would cease to discuss the sani
tary question ; but that line must stand.
Thu Toad Market of I'arl*.
By the Jardin des Pinnies, in the old and
quaint quarter of St. Marcel, Paris, you
will find, every Wednesday -morniug, from
spring to autumn, e very curious market
place. From seven to nine A. M., your
atteutiou is called to an open apace of
ground, separated by a hoarding from the
street by a noise like unto that which greets
the ears of tired Senators when the sun of
day is ( meeting the twilight hour, and all
frogdom on the hanks of the Washington
canal is ehorously joyous and load ! We
approach this market place so full of simp
licity and sound. Young men in blue
blouses, black silk caps, pert faces, jaunty
airs, big finger rings, dandy hoots, greasy
hair—parted down the middle—and prim
moustaches, are the venders. In one hand
they hold a little stick, and when the
sounds alluded to grow heathenish, whack!
goes the stick on the top of a barrel whence
these diabolical noises emanate, aud silence
reigns. The toads arc momentarily dumb.
We know there is a great deal of unlovable
'iment arrayed against toads, yet toads
are full of love sentiment. A toad carries
all its young in a most loving and senti
mental manner, and why should not like
beget like, if there he any truth in the doc
trine >f Aristotle? Much had blood and
malignity is got up against toads. This
one of the young men in (douse tells me, in
a foppish, half-philosophical way. Barrels
of toads! Think of it! Barrels packed like
barrels of potatoes! "Selling at 2 francs,
40 to ti francs a dozen, prime toads! nice
toads!" Who buys them? Vegetable gar
deners. Why ? For the reason that toads
devour the insects that otherwise would de
vour the vegetables. Who devours the
toads? Contrary to some ideas—not the
French people. But toads are being sold
now, not devoured, and it is with the sel
ling we are interested. How do they vend
them ? Young man in blouse hares his arm
and thrusts his open hand into the slimy
swim and brings up two. three or four gym
nastic loads, wriggling and writhing. He
points out their merits and delivers tliem in
a box by the dozen to tile eager market
gardener who takes his choice and pays his
price. The buying and selling is done ex
peditiously and quietly. The license reve
nue to the Government is great, while the
profit to the venders is greater, arising from
this other peculiar Parisian baseness, the
selling of toads. I addressed myself to one
of the merchants: "Permit me to ask it you
have been long in this business?" Merch
ant looks at me aud laconically replies:
"Born in ii!" Then I resume and say, en
couragingly: "You know a good deal about
it?" lie looks at me again and replies:
"All!" 1 am uneasy as to his feelings,
therefore change the attack hv asking:
"Does it pay well?" He deigns not to look
at me now, but replies : "It does!" "Do
you suffer much loss by death by packing
the toads all of a mass in a barrel ?" "1 do
not!" "Is it expensive to cultivate them ?"
'•lt is !" "How do you care for theni ar:d
propagate them ?" "We don't care much,
and they propagate Uietnsclvcs!" "Where?" ;
"Marshes and rockeries!*' "Do you ever
feed them?" "Never 1" "How do you
live?" 4 'Pretty well!" "Have you a large
supply?" "Too large!" 1 look upon him
us the concentrated assemblage of many
toads, and 1 leave him.
Trapping Rati,
Having lured to destruction, many old
Solomon* among rats I will detail my plan:
Take a pan nearly full of bran, set a small
steel trap without any bait, put a light wad
of tow or cotton under the pan of the trap,
which press down so it is just ready to
spring: put the trap in the bran, making a
place with the hand so that it may be below
the surface when level: lastily scatter a few
kernals of corn on the bran (pumpkin seeds
are better), and you are ready for your vic
tim. I hardly ever fail to fool some of
the ring-leaders in this way, while younger
one's are easily caught. If you cannot
thus circumvent that shy and cunning old
specimen, 1 will give you my plan with
strychnine, which is as swift with rats as
with dogs. So much for \\ isconsiu
rats. We cannot hut think that the "old
Solomons" out there are not half so wise
or cunning as some we have encountered
at the East. Some years ago the rats made
lmtl havoc in our cellar, and we resolved to
try the elticacy of the steel trap. It was
set in a large Hat vessel and well covered
and hidden with brau. We were more
cautious than the writer above, for we
used a large spoon to move the bran, fear
ing the rats might smell the toueh of lin
gers and keep away. Small bits of cheese
were then dropped over all parts of the
covered trap. The next morning there
were tracks of rats all over the surface, tx
erpt where the trap was buried, ; and the
cheese was all taken, except directly over
the trap! We were compelled to resort
to a more effectual trap, which proved suc
cessful—in the shape of a line old cat.
A CliiiU's Hut tie With an Enjfle.
C. Wieland, Auditor of Lake county,
Minn., writes: "Recently, wlrile little Au
gust Burr, aged seven years, was playing
with his sisters—one five years old and the
other three and one-half —near his father's
house, an enormous eagle pounced down
upon then), throwing the two girls t© the
ground. It immediately attacked the
younger one, grasping one of the child's
arms with the claws of one foot, while the
claws of the other foot were deeply buried
in the child's face; and it attempted to
carry the child off, but was prevented by
her struggles. Little August, seeing that
he could do nothing with his own hands to
help bis sister ran quickly to the house,
got the butcher-knife, and came out. and
hacked away lit the eagle's legs, cutting one
of them severely near the foot, whereupon
the savage bird let go the little girl and at
tacked Hie boy, knocking him over, tearing
his pantaloons, and giving him some
severe scratches. In the meantime the
screams of the children brought out their
mother, wheieupon the eagle liew off to
the burn, on which he sat and looked as
though he would like to renew the contest,
should a favorable opportunity offer. A
neighbor was called who shot the bird. It
measured seven feet from wing-tip to
wing-tip. The little girl is badly scrached,
but not seriously hurt."
Did you ever think of praising God
with your hammer and saw? Perhaps
you may think that they aro not very
musical instruments. Dut there is no
sweeter echo in the arches ot heaven
than conies of work wrought by loving
hands, no matter how rough the work
ot how noisy the earthly accompani
ment,
Tli* New Ocean
North Eastham, where the shore and of
tli new cable ha* been laid, is near Prov
incetown, Cap# Cod. From North East
ham the land HUM of the American Union
Telegraph Company will afford transmis
sion to all points in the United States and
Canada. Thw Pouyer-Querler Company is
composed mostly of Frsnch and Americas
stockholders, the former holding the bal
ance of power, and lias a paid-up capital
of about $8,000,000, BSOIJ to be increased
by an additional amount of $2,000,000.
Its ollicers are practical men, experienced
in telegraphy and in the management of
telegraphic business with the outside world.
The cable was constructed by Siemen
Brothers, ot England, who also built the
cable used by the Direct company. It is
considered heavier, stronger aud more
nearly perfect than any now used by other
companies. The process of its building is
especially adapted to secure those results.
A central wire of copper is surrounded by
ten copper wires, twisted, insuring abso
lute conductivity in all weather. For insu
lating purposes three envelopes of gutta
i percha surround the wire, and outside of
the gutta percha is placed a wrapping of
muuilla liemp treated with Uhatterton's
compound. An armor of steel wire for
protection is placed outside the hemp, the
wires composing I lie armor, being laid in a
peculiar manner, side by side, so that frac
tures seem almost impossible to occur.
Surrounding the armor is another covering
of mauillu hemp, saturated with an auti
corrosive compound, which makes the as
surance doubly sure that the cable will be
always be ready for use. The cable ex
tends from Brest, France, to St I'ierre,
Miquelon, and from St. Pierre to North
East ham. At its completion the Faraday
will return to Brest, when another cable of
similar concstruction will he laid from Brest
to Laud s, England, establishing connection
with thai country. The distance across is
only alnmt two hundred miles, and, as the
water is shallow, the electritians regard this
as an easy task. Next year the company
will lay still another cable from Land's End
to St. Pierre, thus establishing a double liue
between this country aud Europe. The
Faraday, which is wall adapted to the lay
ing of ocean cables, was in the v. ry centre
of the cyclone in the North Atlantic Ocean,
but ]>aid no attention to the unruly element,
keeping on about its business of cable luv
tng just as if nothing else was going on.
I'o secure a landing-place in the United
States the company gave the United Stales
government a guarantee tlut the company
will not consolidate or amalgamate with
auy other liue, or combine therewith for
the purjHise of regulating ratoa.
A Married Wliiow.
It was just before the opening of the rail
way lrom Taganrog to Klmrkof in 1 and
I was driving these dreary distances in aut
umn. For the. first two days and nights
the weather was lovely, but on the third
morning, soon after sunrise, the.-lev became
covered with heavy, torn and jagged ciouds;
a northerly wind arose, and with thunder,
lightning, cold gale, and snow, the winter
burst on us as it yearly breaks on Southern
Russia. In haif an hour the rich, black,
rolling plains had become an ocean of inky
tnud, and we reached the post station of
Donski only to find tha order, "Impossible
to proceed."
1 called for tea, and the samovar was
brought in by a fine, upright, gray bearded
man, whom, from lii 9 black velvet tunic
and slashed sleeves. 1 took to be the post
master himself, lie was followed into the
room by a noble looking Cossack woman of
his own age, who said, "Little husband,
why don't you ask the little lord if he w ill
eat a partridge and a bit of bread ? The
ktirupatka is plump, and the day will be
long before his troika can be harnessed to
face the storm." She smiled sweetly as she
spoke—he smiled lovingly upon her; then
siie left us, looking lingering!}* hack.
"Your wife's in love with you still, and
you with her. postmaster," I said. "You
must have beaten her well when she was
young for her to love viu so. How long is
it since you were niarr ed?"
"I am sixty,'' he replied; "I was married
at twenty-3ve, thirty-live years— : Jive years
before 1 died
"What ?" said I.
"Five years before my death. Is it pos
sible that you don't know my story? You
must have conic a long way off, for 1 have
heard that it is told even upon the Azof.'"
And, throwing his legs across a chair,
without more ado, he spoke thus, I was
horn in 1809 and can remember the return
from Paris of my father and uncle —Cos-
sacks of the Don. Those were grand days,
whencvery Cossack was an officer by birth,
and when the lletmun Platot was King of
Europe, conqueror of the Turks and of the
French, and friend and equal of the White
Tsar. Now this Petersburg Tsar says that
we're no better thau his Great Russian
slaves, and for many years my sabre and
long pistols have hung upon the wall un
used; and when 1 have worn my red band
ed cap and my red stripped breeches I've
always hid as much as I could of the stripe
in nty boots, for I'm ashamed of it now;
and they're even going to take away our
privilege of the supply of suit.
"In 1834, as a young postmaster —for my
father was dead—with a good place and a
handsome beard, I was the best match in
the two church villages round. I could pick
my wife, and 1 chose Olga, that you saw
just now."
"There!" 6aid I.
"Ah! wait and see. Wait, little lord!
Don't be impatient! Olga was as love'v
as she was good. You have seen her in her
sixtieth yeur. Her goodness is what it
was; and, though I may be an unsafe judge,
lier beauty, I think, is not yet gone."
He looked at me. I nodded.
"We were happy ut first; but I was
young. I felt the chain. I was faithful
to her as far as women went, but not kind.
We had no children.
"One day, in 1839 she was in low spirits
about me, and flung her arms upon a sud
den about my neck, with, 'Do you really
love me, little John ?'
" 'You know 1 do.'
" 'But not as I love you.'
"To tell you what thoughts flashed in an
instant through my mind would be impossi
ble. That what she said was true, That
while I did love her in a kind way, I was
bound to her for life, whether 1 would or
no. In a fit of wild rage, I struck her one
short, sharp blow. She looked at me, with
despair in her eyes, and walked slowly into
our o r lier room. I ran into the stable yard.
" 'Harness a troika," said I to the star-
I osta. 'I leave at once for Kharkof, with
despatches for the courier dropped, and that
I've found upon the floor. Quick! quick!
the best courier horses."
"In an instant they were ready. Merrily
jingled the bells in the crisp air. Paul took
the reins, and ofl' I whirled. In twenty
hours I was at Kharkof. To my friend the
st(trusta at the great Kharkof station, who
was equal lu rank and pay to most post
masters themselves, I said, 'Do me a ser
vice, little friend, as 1 would do one for
you. lam going to leave my wife to whom
1 have been unkind, and am going to enlist
in the Guard. But 1 wish her to forget me,
and she must think me dead. Write to her
in a week, and tell her 1 was taken with
the cholera and died. Beg her to forgive
me for my uukindness. Say that 1 was
grateful for her love; and that it was my
last wish th >t she should marry again, some
lad more worthy of her than mvself. Make
interest to have the station continued to her
as postmistress. She was a priest's daughter,
and can write.
"We crossed ourselves; he swore; we
bowed to the image in the corner of the sta
ble; nnd in five minutes I was gone."
"A* the recruiting ollice I enlisted for the
Empress's regiment of Cuirassiers of the
Guards as a fourteen years' volunteer, and
in a false name. I'd of course no papers,
but they ask no questions, for I was a fine
recruit. My beard wns shaved, ray hair
was cut, aud when I got to St. Petersburg,
and was fitted with my uniform and eagle
crowned hemlet, no one would have known
me. I rose to be sergeant and second rid
ing-master. From your padarojna I see
that, you are English.
"Now, in 1853, when I had served my
time, there were rumors of war in Turkey
against you, and tempting offers were made
to me to stop and drill the recruits. But 1
was wretched, and home-sickness drove me
South ; though, if 1 found my wife dead or
married, again, 1 intended to kill mvself."
"Petersburg is not a place for Cossacks
cither. By brooding over the past. I had !
become madly in love with my wife. It
was no use for me toieli myself that I bid i
left her well off; that she was married
again aud happy; that she was fourtv-four i
and fat: or else, perhaps, a scarecrow. I j
was madly in love. 1 got my discharge
and pension papers, and started South. At
Kharkof my friend was dead. What if sue
100 were dead?"
' 4 'Who keeps the Doneki post station :
now ?' I murmured, crossing myself the
while under my long cioak.
" 'The widow.'
" 'A widow that has ktpt it fourteen
years f
44 'The same.'
"In eighteen hours I was there. I recog
nised two of the old men, but they not me.
I rushed into the house. She was at lier
day book, writing, not changed; only gra- |
ver, nnd with silver in her black hair. My
own little Olga, in the best style of old days.
She did not turn to look al me, but threw ;
up her arms and fell forward on the table, j
I rushed to her and felt her heart, with i
mine, too. all but ceasing to beat. In a
moment she came to herself —our lips press- |
ed together. That was in 1858. This is
lsfiy. Sixteen years gone like a day. We
have made up for the past, little lord.
"But would you believe it? That wretch- I
ed Government at Petersburg insists that I
am dead, and that the Donskl station is kept
by a widow. Or else, they say, the cuiras
sier riding-master must be dead, aud with j
him bis pension. My widow accepts the I
situation witn a smile, for our neighbors all
know better than to believe the Government,
but she kecqis the books, aigns the receipts, ;
and pays the. taxes. 1 draw my pension in I
my cuirassier name.
Some J.lt!le Things of Valae.
If your coal lire is low, throw in a table
spoouful of salt, and it will help it very
much. A little ginger put into sausage
meat improves '.lie flavor. In icing cakes,
dip the knife into cold water. In boiliug
meat for soun, use rtfld water to extract
the juices. If the meat is wanted for itself
alone, plunge it into the boiling water at
once. You can get a bottle or barrel of oil
off any carpet or woolen stuff by applying
buckwheat plentifully. Never put w-ater
to such a grease-spot, or liquid of any kind.
Broil steak without salting. Salt draws
the juices in cooking; it is desirable to
keep these, if possible. Cook over a hot
lire, turning frequently, searing both sides;
place on a platter, sail and pepper to taste.
Beef having a tendency to be though, can
be made very palatable by stowing gently
for two hours with salt and pepper, taking
about a pint of the liquor when half done,
and letting the rest boil into the meat.
Brown the meat in the pot. After taking
up, make a gravy of the pint of liquor
saved. A small piece of charcoal in the
pot with boiliug cabbage removealhe smell.
Clean oil cloths with milk and water; a
brush and soap will ruin them. Tumblers
that have milk iu them should never be put
in hot water. A spoonful of stewed toma
toes in the gravy ot either roasted or fried
meats is an improvement. The skin of a
boiled egg is the most efficacious remedy
that can be applied to a boil. Peel it care
fully, wet and apply to the part affected.
It will draw out the matter and relieve ths
scoreuess in a few hours
Hot; ainlj I)ODKjr.
A singular encounter between a dog and
a donkey lias just occurred at Blackpool,
England. A retired gentleman, named
Weddiiigton, owned a tine young donkey
and a splendid mastiff. The other day the
donkey was grazing in a field, when the
dog rushed at it in a ferocious manner and
fastened on its nose. Tiie donkey did not
decline the challenge, for it at once shook
the dog off, bit it about the head and shoul
ders, trampled on it, and tossed it about.
The dog again seized the donkey and a
crowd sown gathered, hut all efforts to sep
arate the combatants were of no avail. The
dog repeatedly fastened on the donkey'*
nose. Blood flowed profusely from both
animals, and at the end of half an hour the
owner appeared upon the scene, and fresh
attempts were made to part them, but with
out success. After the fight had lasted half
an hour, the owner decided to have the dog
shot, as it had by that time fastened with a
firm hold on the donkey's nose A gun
was procured and the services of a good
shot obtained. But so savage was the tight
that it was difficult to shoot one animal
without killing the other also. At last aim
was taken, and a bullet put into the dog's
head, and it dropped to the gror nd. When
the smoke cleared away the dog was dead,
hut the infuriated donkey had returned to
the charge, kicking, biting, and tramping
on the dead dog. It was with great diili
culty the donkey was driven off.
A Doomed Family.
A few nights ago Edward Scannell,
shot and dangerously wounded Henry
Wilson, in a lowgrogerv in New York. The
male members of the family seem born to
misfortune, which is a mild word to ex
press what has, at times, been tinged with
crime. In the fall election af 1868 Flor
ence Scannell was a candidate for Assistant
Alderman. A few nights before the eleet
tion he was in Thomas Donohue'e saloon,
at Twenty-third street and Second avenue.
The place was crowded, and much heated
dicuiwion on politics took place. Hot words
led to blows • during the fracas some one
tired a pistol, The bullet lodged in Flor
ence Scannell's spine. After lingering for
a few days he died in Bellevue Hospital.
John Scannell accused Donohue of shooting
his brother, although the charge was not
made until several days afterwards, Noth
ing could l>e proved against Donohuc, and
the charge fell to the ground. Indeed, it
win said at the time, and it is current
among politicians and sporting men, that
' John Scannell himself fired the shot, in
tending to hit anoMier man. Be this as it
may, John Scannell professed to believe
that Donohtte was his brother's murderer,
and then determined te slay him. Dono
huc was shot at once in First avenue, and
an endeavor was made to show that Scan
nell had made the attempt to assassinate
him, but the evidence was not sufficient to
fasten the crime on hiin. All that could
be proved was that a man in disguise had
shot at Donohue. Four years passed and
Donohue still lived, but Scaunell had not
relinquished his purpose. Instead, his de
termination grew stronger with time, and
eventually consumed every other desire : it
became a mania, wiiich controlled his wa
king thoughts and dreaming hours. On the
eve of the Presidential election, in Novem
ber, 1872, the pool rooms in this city were
crowded by eager investors on the result.'
One of the most noted places at that time
was T. B. Johnson's at Broadway and
Twenty-eight street, On the Saturday
preceding the day of election that place
was literally packed. Standing near the
door was Thomas Donohue, with no thought
or care apparently for anything else than
investing his money in the election pools.
As he was turning to speak to a friend,
John Scannell went down the stairs and
saw him. Without warning. drew his
pistol, and pointing it at Eonohue., began
firing, remarking. "1 uu." Don
ohue fell at the first fire, and Scannell then
emptied the remaining shots in his pistol
into the body of the fallen man. Death
ensued almost immediately, and Scannell
was arrested and indicted for murder. On
his first trial lie was sentenced to lie huug :
the case was appealed, a new trial granted,
and by a jury of physicians Scannell was
declared insane. He v.-as sent to the State
Asylum at Utica. and after a short confine
ment there, was released on a writ of habeas
corpus, the courts which declared him in
sane then declaring him sane. At the time
Donohue was shot Edward Seaaneil was at
Fordham College. It was the desire of the
family that he should be educated for the
priesthood. His brother's crime barrod
him out from so ambitious a call ng, and
from that day ha changed from a moral
youth to a reckless man. When John
Scannell was released from the asylum he
entered at once upon the life of a profess
ional sporting man. He became, and is
now part owner of a gambling saloon in
Barclay street aud another near Thirtieth
and Broadway. In botn of these places
his younger brother, Ed. Scannell, was
dealer for a faro game.
A Hot Water River.
The projector of the Sutro Tunnel i of
the opinion that the hot water which is so
troublesome in the Comstock mines comes
froA a depth pf ten or fifteen thousaud
feet, where the rocks are at a high temper
ature; also that there must be some con
nection between the water of the Comstock
lode and that of the boiling springs at
Steamboat, six or seven miles distant. One
of the great advantages of the tunnel is the
means it affords for draining Ihe mines.
The tunnel discharges about twelve thou
sand ton of water every twenty-four hours.
To lift this water to the surface would cost
not less than SO,OOO a day. Some of the
water has a temperature of 165 degress
where all the water mingles; four miles
from the mouth of the tuunell the tempera
ture rangcs'from 130 degrees to 135 degress.
If left to Cow through the ojteu tunnel this
water would so till the air with steam as to
make the tunnel impassable. In flowing
the four miles through a tight llume made
of 3 inch yellow pine, the water loses but
7 degress of beat. At the mouth of the
tuunel the water is conducted sixty feet
alown a shaft to a wheel in the machine shop,
whence it is carried off by a tunnel eleven
hundred feet in length, which serves as a
tail race. From this tunnel the water flows
a mile and a half to the Carson river. This
large flow of warm water is now used for
many purpose, the first to utilize it having
been boys who made small ponds to switu
in—pioneers, it may be, in establishing a
system of warm baths, which may ultimat
ely become a great sanitary resort. The
water can also be turned to account in heat
ing hot houses ana for irrigation. The
tunnel company have a farm of over a
thousand acres which, when properly
watered, is very fertile. In course of time
there will probable be many acres of fruit
and vegetables under glass at this point all
warmed and watered by the tunnel water.
The Alpine Horn,;
The Alpine horn is an instrument made
of the bark of a cherry tree, and like a
speaking trumpet, is used to convey sounds
to a great distance, When the last rays of
the sun gild the summit of the Alps, tiie
shepherd who inhabits th 6 highest peak of
these mountains takes his horn, and crie9
with a loud voice, "Praised be the Lord."
As soon as the neighboring shepherds iiear
him, they leave their huts ; and repeat these
words. The sounds are prolonged many_. ;
minutes, while the echoes of the rocks' fe
peat the name of God. Imaginatian can
not picturcauything more "solemn or ..sub
lime than sucha scene. During the silence
that succeeds, tne shepherds bend their
knees, and pray in the open air, then re
pair to their nuts to rest. The sunlight
gilding the tops of these stupendous moun
tains, upoD which the vault of Heaven
seems to rest, the magnificent scenery
around, and the voices of the shepherds
sounding from rock to rock ?t he praise of
the Almighty, fill the mind of every travel
er with enthusiasm and awe.
Faith is simple, it is to beiieve; faith
1 is subiiuie, it is to be born again.
NO. 5.