Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, March 11, 1880, Image 1

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    VOL. LIV.
PROFESSIONSL CSRDS.
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office In German's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
D. O. Buah. S. H. Yocuirt. D. H. Hastings.
YOCUM & HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
High s> reet. Opposite First National Bank.
M. C. HEINLE,""
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
B ELL K FONT E. PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre County.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
in German or English.
U.BUR F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTK, PA.
Alt bus uess promptly attended to. Collection
of claims u speciality.
J A. Beaver. J. W. Gepbart.
A rTORNEYS AT LAW,
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office ou Alleghany Street, North of High.
A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BLLLEFONTE, PA-
Office on Woodrlng's, Block, Opposite Court
1! u-e.
| S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTE, PA.
Confutation* In English or German. Office
In Lyon'* Building, Allegheny Street.
JOHN G. LOVE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
0noe lu the rooms formerly occupied by the
late vr. P Wilson.
BANKING CO.,
MAIN STREET,
MLLLHRIM, PA.
A WALTER. Cashier. DAV. KRAPK, Pres.
VUARIER,
AUCTIONEER,
RKBERSBCKG, PA.
Satisfaction Guaranteed.
It requires a great deal of resolution
to break away from the apathy of a deep
sorrow or a heavy trouble, and reso
lutely put one's hand to the new or dis
used plow ; but the eff >rt once made, if
there is anything in the individual, lie
or she will never turn back. And after
work, real work—work with the hands,
bead and heart—after this will come
trust, and trust will bring peace.
To the Christian the litile events ol
daily lite .end wonderfully to his sanc
titication, thou h he piay not know it
at the tone. This discharge of duty,
this trial of patience, this denial of self,
this loss or suffering, or affliction, each,
like the finishing strokes of the sculp
tor, here strikes off an excresence and
there brings out a beauty of form and
feature, till at last the work is com
pleted, and the finished image is pre
pared for the upper temple.
Conscience is your magnetic needle.
Keason is your chart. But 1 would
rather have a crew willing to follow
the indications ot the needle, and giv
ing themselves no great trouble as to
the chart, than a crew that had ever so
good a chart and no needle at all.
By prayer we do not mean the bow
ing of the head and saying over a few
appropriate words, but the yearning
desire, the uplifted heart, the contrite
spirit; such a condition of life is Chris
tian. A tnau who answers to this de
scription is a Christian, wherever you
find hira.
Praying, reading the Bible and going
to meeting is not religion, any more
than carpenters' tools are a dwelling
house. These Christian duties are the
instruments In the use of which a man
underpins bis life wi:h Christian prin
ciples, to bui d thereon a character of
righteousness.
Hin is a bad thing, not alone that it
dishonors God; that is enough—but it
debases the God in man. Not alone
that it injures society ; that is enough,
but ft man loses his sensitiveness to
- virtue*. Sin lies in ambush in the mind
and hehrt, ready to spring upon the
life in its'dangerous moments, it must
be destroyed or it will destroy.
inasmuch as laughter is a faculty be
stowed exclusively upon man, we seem
to be guilty of a sort of ingratitude in
not exercising it as often as we can.
Care is the lot of life, and he who as
pires to greatness in hopes to get rid of
it, is one who throws himself into afur
nc.- to avoid the shivering of an ague.
'''' A. ' --
THE CAVALIER'S SOXG.
A steed A steed! of matchless speed!
A sword of metai keeu!
All else to uoble hearts is dross.
All else on earth is mean,
The neighing of the war-horse proud,
The rolling of the drum,
The clangor of the trnmpet loud,
Be sounds from heaveu that come.
Aud 0! the thundering press of kuight,
When as their war-cries swell.
May toll from hoa\ou au angel bright
Aud rouse a tieud from hell!
Then mount! theu mount brave gallants all!
And don your helms amain;
Death's couriers, fame aud honor, oalt
Us to the field again.
No shrewish tears shall till our eye
When the sword-hilt's in our hand.
Ileart whole we'll part, and uo whit sigh
For the fairest of the land.
Let piping swain and craven wight
Thus weep aud puliug cry.
Our business is like men to tight.
And like to heroes die!
Through The Tunnel.
It was a clear, cold morning in
early i)ecemler. When Kaiihie enteml
the car there was scarcely a vacant seat to
be seen. To be sure there was one stout
old gentleman silting alone, but he was
next to the aisle and seemed so deeply ab
sorbed iu thought that Kathie disliked to
disturb him. Then there was a middle
aged woman, but she had numberless wraps
and parcels in the seat beside her, and her
appearauce, take her all in all, was so for
bidding as she looked fixedly out of the
window, that Kathie passed her by. There
was but one more sent unoccupied, it was
beside a gentleman who sat close to the
window reading a paper.
"Is this seat engaged?" asked Kathie
with timid hesitancy.
"It is not," was the answer in a pleasant
tone; "but," springing up as he spoke,
"would you prefer the seat by the win
dow?"
"Oh, no! JTliank you! Not at all!"
murmured Kathie, and she sat down beside 1
him.
The gentleman turned his attention again
to liis paper, and Kathie immediately fell
to wishing that she had taken the seat by
the window. For the gentleman sat at her
right hand, and her purse was in her cloak
pocket, and had not Aunt Kate warned her
over aud over again to be on her guard
against pickpockets, and had declared that
they were quite as likely to be young,
agreeable and polite as the reverse ? And
was not this person all three ? Kathie stole j
a shy glance at him. liis dark eyes were
intently fixed on liis newspaper, lie was
fine looking and well dressed, and to all in
tents quite oblivious of lier existence.
Kathie wondered demurely what sort of an
expression his face would wear if he know i
that any one thought that he might perhaps j
bo a pickpocket.
She might take her purse and hold it in ,
her hand, but that would seem ostentatious '
and tiresome, moreover there would te j
ample time for that when the gentleman— I
lie looked like a gentleman certainly—should j
put down his paper and Kathie could no
longer watch his hands.
Then Kathie's thoughts slipped into a
more agreeable channel. She thought of
the Christinas gifts she was going to buy,
and of the other shopping she was going to
do. It was her first trip to Boston quite
alone. Aunt Kate had always been with
lier before, to take care of her and help her
to select Christmas gifts, but this year Aunt
Kate's rheumatism was much worse than
usual that she did not hope to Le iqual to
a trip to Boston for the win'er; and as it
was already nearing Christmas, ttiire was
nothing to be done but to let Kathie go
alone. And so it came about that Kathie.
feeling quite old and responsible, was on
her way, this bright December morning, to
the city. She mentally planned lier day's
work, and portioned out her money for the
various things she was intending to buy.
There was the lwj3k for her Sunday-school
teacher, the sh-.1l comb for Aunt Kate, the
engraviug lor cousin Will, that must be
especially fine and nicely framed, since it
was to do double duty as Christmas and
wedding gift. Should it be a copy of some
celebrated old picture, or some attractive
group, full of modern life and interest?
While Kathie was trying to decide this
question, and was reviewing with her mind's
eyes, all the finest and most beautiful en
gravings that she had ever seen, the train
swept into the tunnel.
As it grew dark the gentleman beside her
put down his paper, turning slightly to
wards Kathie as he did so. And then
Kathie was sure she felt a stealthly motion
towards her cloak pocket. Quick as thought
her hand went down to seize her purse,
when—oh, horrors ; —there was the man's
hand in her pocket! Kathie did not with
draw lier hand; on the contrary, being re
solved to protect her property at all hazards,
she felt about witji her fingers as well as
she could for her purse, but could not find
it. It was already gone. Then Kathie
seized the intruding hand with the firmness
of desperation, fully determined to make
an alarm as soon as the cars emerged into
davlight agaiD. If he did not have the
purse in his hand, there at least was his
hand in her pocket, and some of the pas
sengers would see her righted and bar purse
restored. Fortunately her purse had her
name printed on the inside. How long
the minutes seemed before the train came
out into lieht! Then Kathie still grasping
firmly the man's hand, looked up and down
the aisle, with sparkling eyes and flushed
cheek, for the conductor.
"I beg your pardon," said her captive in
a low tone that Kathie could scarcely catch
the words, "bnt have you not made a
mistake in the pocket f".
Kath e gave one swift glanct. Good
heavens! Her hand was in his pocket!
If she had touched a burning coal she could
not have relinquished her hold and with
drawn her hand more promptly. She was
overcome with confusion. She ventured
one deprecatory glance at the gentleman.
His expressive face wore a mischievous
smile.
"1 thoug—"began Kathie tremulously,
but she could get no further. The revul
sion of feeling was too great. The bright
ness of her eyes was suddenly quenched by
gathering tears, and her lip quivered omin
ously.
"That It was your pocket, of course,"
said the gentleman, oompleting her sen
• teaea. "1 understand perfectly. Pray do
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 11. 18S0.
not let the mistake disturb you," he oontiu
ued, with imploring earnestness.
In the midst of her distress Kathie could
not help thinking how musical his voice
was. Theu, with much tact, ho took up
his pa[>er, and devoted himself with great
assiduity, to reading an artiele, which, if
Kathie had but known it, he had read twice
already since she sat Inside him, without
knowing in the least what it was about.
Kathie became outwardly conqKised lif
ter awhile, but her mind was still in a tu
mult. Suppose he had turned the tables upon
her, and denounced her as a pick-pocket as
he might have done! She shivered at the
mere thought of it.
Once or twice, as they neared the city,
the gentleman glanced at her as if he would
speak, but Kathie's resolutely averted face
and downcast eyes gave him no opportunity,
and not another word was spoken till they
reached the station, where he left her with
a courteous bow and "Good morning."
"Hateful thing," said Kathie to herself,
"I hope 1 shall never set eyes on him
again;" and then she watched him, with
admiring eyes, as long as she could distin
guish his line form in the hurrying crowd.
Her purse, it is scarcely necessary to say,
was safe in her pocket, and she soon set
about diminishing its contents. Notwith
standing the inauspicious beginning of her
trip, her day proved quite successful and
satisfactoiy. Her own errands and Aunt
Kate's commissions were all executed, and
there was still a half-hour to spare for a
call at Cousin Will's office and when the
time drew near for her train to leave he es
corted her to the station. The train was
in readiness when they arrived, and, as they
walked along to reach the right car, a form
approached them from a side entrance, a
glance at which sent a thrill through Kath
ie's veins aud the hot blood to her cheeks
and brow.
"Ah! here's Harry Thorn, going down
on your train, Kathie," said her cousin.
"He * ill he agreeable company for you,
and will see to your parcels,"and then, be
fore Kathie was at all prepared lor it, came
the inevitable introduction.
Kathie could hardly force herself to meet
the glance of the mischievous dark eyes
lieut upon her, or to touch the proffered
hand. It was utterly impossible for her to
speak a word, hut the gentleman talked on
till Will left them at the entrance of the
car.
"You will take the seat by the window
this time?" said Mr. Thorn, and Kathie
silently took it.
After he had arranged her parcels in the
rack, and seated himself, Kathie remarked,
with a frank smile, "I really hoped that 1
should never see you again."
"Did you think I deserved eternal ban
ishment?" he asked, lightly."
"Oh, no! It was rather I who merited
it,." said Kathie. "So long as yojq did uot
know me, it did not matter what you
thought of me, but now," —ah. where were
Kathie's words leading her? —"but now, if
you should tell Cousin Will," she continued
quite illogieally, "he would tease we un
mercifully, and I should never hear the last
of it."
"I assure yo i," was the earnest answer,
"that 1 will never mention the mistake to
which you refer to Will or to any one else.
No one liesuies ourselves need ever know
aught of it." And' then he skilfully turn
ed the conversation, and Kathie was soon
quite at her ease, and they were conversing
like two old friends.
That memorable ride through the tuunel
occurred some years ago, and Kathie's re
lations with Mr. Thorn have changed so
greatly, that now;, instead of suspecting
him of taking her money, she appropriates
with great coolness, funds from his pocket
book for her Christmas shopping.
Mr. Thorn sometimes laughingly declares,
that instead yf his wife's waiting for him
to offer his hand, as ladies usually do, she
took possession of it the tirst time that she
ever saw him; but his moat intimate friends
ask in vain for an explanation of his jest.
tt inter Flailing.
The winter fishing on Chautauqua lake,
New York, is quite a business. Being an
inlauil lake it freezes over quicker thau Lake
trie, and when the latter body is open
Chautauqua 4ake has ice enough to hold up
an aimy of fishermen. There are now
about twenty 4 'coop v' as they are called,
out 011 the ice. A "coop" is a box about
three feet square with a hole in the bottom.
A hole is cut in the ice and the box placed
over it so that the two holes match. A
man crawls into this l>ox, and it being per
fectly dark in there he can see the bottom
as plain as day if the water is clear. If it
is not clear, a newspaper is sunk to the
bottom under the coop, and fish passing
over it are easily seen. Through this hole
in the ice a wooden fish, properly weighted,
is sunk to the proper depth, and with the
oord attached to it, the bogus fish is made
tofiv around lively and thereby attracts
other fish to its locality. The man in the
coop keeping watch, seeing a fish in good
position, lets drop his heavy spear, weigh
ing from fifteen to twenty pounds, fasten
ing him to the bottom. Home large fish are
caught in that way. The Monday before
New Year's there wt,re caught tliree pick
erel, weighing respectively twenty-seven,
thirty and forty pounds. It is quite a
business when the lake is frozen over and
those who follow it make money.
I will-Perhaps.
I will—but no, i guess not-
That I won't go home till morning.
I will not eat chicken salad again for a
year.
That I will never again make New Year's
calls.
That ju3t a swallow isn't a drink but a
bird. Ah 1
That 1 will forever forswear smoking—
poor cigars.
That I'll never do so again. No, nev—.
well, hard—,
I resolve to reresolve all good resolutions
I have ever resolved.
That as it is never too late to mend, I will
put it off a little longer. .
I will not—but perhaps on second thought
I may, so never mind.
That I will attend no walking matches
this year. It is leap year.
That 1 will live within miy income—if I
can only contrive to get one.
Resolved that I will not use ''hardly
ever" during the next twelve months.
That no balmy day in spring shall delude
me into collateralizing my ulster.
Resholve, al'flar zhat neverll toucha
nother drop slongs liveselpmegracious.
That I will turn over a new leaf—as soon
1 as new leaves make their appearance.
The Hymn Dog.
Just as the Aanl wolf appears to form
the link between the civets and the hva-nus,
being with some difficulty referred to either
group of animals, so the hunting dog seems
to be the connecting link between the dogs
and hyamas. Its position, liowever, in the
scale of animated naturu is so very obscure
that it has been placed by some zoologists
among the dogs and by others among the
hyauias. AH, however, the leading charac
teristic of its formation appears to tend
rather toward the canine than the by urnine
type, the-huutiug dog has been provision
ally placed at the end of the dogs rather
than at the end of the hyamas. In Its gen
eral aspect there is much of the hytunino
character, and the creature has often been
mistaken for a hytena, and descrilwd under
that name. There is, however, less of the
hytvnine type than is seen in the Aard wolf,
for the peculiar ridge of hair that decorates
the neck of the hytena is absent in the
hunting dog, and the hinder quarters are
marked by that strauge sloping form which
is so characteristic of the,hybnft and the
Aard wolf itfelf. The teeth are almost
precisely like those? of the dogs, with the
exception of a slight difference in the false
molars, ami therefore are quite distinct
from those of the hyamas. But the feet ate
only furnished with four toes instead of
live, which is a characteristic of the hyamas,
and not of the dogs. Several other remark
able points of structure are found in this
curioui animal, some of them lending to
give it a position among the dogs, and oth
ers apjH'uring to refer it to the hyamas.
The general color of the hunting dog is a
reddish or yellowish brown, marked at wide
intervals with large patches of black and
white. The nose and muzzle are black,
and the central line of the head is marked
with a well-dotined black stripy which
reaches to the back of the head. The ears
are extremely large, and*r£ covered on l>olh
their faces with rather short black hairs.
From their inside edge rises a large tuft of
long white hair, which spreads over and
nearly fills the cavity of the ear. The tail
is covered with long busby hair, which is
for the greater part of a grayish-white hue,
but is strongly tinged with black near its
insertion. In nearly all specimens there is a
whitish patch below each eye. These tint*
are somewhat variable in different individ
uals, but preserve the same general asjxjct
in all. There are many names by which
this animal has t>een called; in the writings
of some authors it is mentioned under the
title of the painted hyaena, while by others
it is termed the hytena dog. The Dutch
colonists of the Cape of Good Hope, where
this creature is generally found, speak of it
by the name of wilde bund, or wild dog;
and it is also known under the names of
simir and melbia. Its title of hunting dog
is earned by its habits of pursuing game by
fair chase, and uniting in packs of consid
erable numbers for that purpose. As is the
case with the generality of predaceous ani
mals, it prefers the night for its season of
attack, hut will frequently undertake a
chase in broad daylight For. the purpose
of the chase it is well fitted, as it is gifted
with long and agile limbs and with great
endurance of fatigue.
( Hh Vwlue of a Boston Kditor.
While in Washington, recently, a certain
Boston editor, who has a good reputation
for enterprise in obtaining the latest and full
est information upoii any and all subjects
of current importance, happened to run
across General McCook, of Colorado, and
at once seized u|X)n the opportunity as a
favorable one to secure for the readers of
his journal a valuable opinion concerning
the Indian question. After an introduc
tion, the editor said:
"General, I should like to get your ideas
on the Indian question. We are very much
interested in the matter m the East, and
your views would lie read with great at
tention."
"Ye-es," drawled the General in a med
itative, strain, car easing his moustache.
"Your name?" *
"Smith, Sir." * • •
"Ye-es; An editor?"'
"Yes, sir, of the daily so an-so."
"Ye as. Will you come to Colorado
with nie?"
"Well, that is hardly possible I should
like to get your ideas on the ludiau ques
tion though."
"Ye-es; I know. But will you come to
Colorado with me?"
"Well-er, 1 hardly understand your drift.
I—'
"Ye-es, I know. But I should like to
take you to Colorado. I dou't know but
that I would give your widow a thousand
dollars, llave you got a widow?"
"Well, no. General, not yet."
"Ye-es. Well, I should like to take you
out there. We propose to deal in the in
terest of lminauity yith the Indians, but
we shall hsve to kill a Boston'editor before
we can can make much progress, and you
seem to be about the right sort of man.
Ye-es; I would give your widow SI,OOO.
Will you come?"
lie didn't go, and he has't written out
any interview, as yet.
A Smart Man.
Jesse Lovely, while out West, was in
search of a man whom lie wished to see on
a matter of business. After riding for half
a day and losing the way in that sparsely
settled country, ho drt w up his steed in
front of a log cabin. A female came to the
door. "Will you he kind enough to tell
me, Miss, where Mr. Wm. Humphrey
lives ?" said J esse. "I don't know," very
blandly replied the young lady, "but
'Squire Roberts, who lives about half a
mile from here, can tell you. .lie \H a
very smart twwi." Jessie rode on in the
direction the fair enchantress indicated.
Coming to the house, he cried out, "Hello 1"
The 'Squire, with his shirt collar open, his
spectacles on top of his head and his pants
in kis boots, made bis appearance at the
door. "Is this 'Squire Roberts I" inquired
Jesse. "I are he," said the 'Squire with
an air of importance that would huve been
more becoming to a king. " 'Squire
Roberts," said Jesse, "cau you tell me
where William Humphreys lives?" "1
kin," said the 'Squire in a self-gratulatory
manner that he was able to answer the
question, and proceeded, "if he are whar I
anticipate he are, he are forty miles dis
tant on Peter Creek. Although his resi
dence are exclusively adjacent to mine, I
know nothing of his wherefores or his
whichabouts." Jesse waved his hand in
polite salutation to the 'Squire and rode on
to find his man as best he could with the
information he had received from the
'Squire to whom the blushing maid had di
rected him as the savant of her section.
Death In the reach.
A fatal case of poisoning hv peach-stones
which has just oocuretl in Paris may serve
as a warning to those families in which
children are allowed to look after them
selves for hours together. It may be as
sumed that very few children under the
age, say, of ten or twelve have auy idea
that peuch-stones or peach-blossoms are dan
gerous. They have lieen shown the deadly
nightshade, ami probably the wild hemlock,
and have a canny dread of them; but nurse
maids are not nearly so fond of )>oiuting
out the peach tree as an object of horror
and aversion. The victim of the recent
accident in Paris had certainly not been
cautioned against the attractions of the
peach. He had developed, at the tender
age of five and a half, the faculty of rea
soning on inductive principals, and he 'Saw
no reason to doubt that aa cherry and apri
cot stones contained notable kernels the
nobler iruil had at least au equully desir
able treasure in its inmost recesses. Ac
cordingly he secreted the stones of a num
ber of peaches which litd been sent to his
mot iter from the country, and possessing
himself of a hammer when left alone broke
them open industriously anil then set to
upon a solid feast to which fie did hasty
but complete justice. The taste of the
kernels was not perliajis ou a par will) the
expectations previously entertained, but it
would be ridiculous to go through the
seVere labor of cracking such hard shells
without entering into the fruition of the
labor whep once finished. 8o the unlucky
child was found by bis parent on her re
turn writhing in the grievous agonies pro
duced l>y prosaic or hydrocyanic acid. The
arrival aud efforts of the doc torn were vain,
and another item had to be added to the
long list of "deaths by imprudence." It
is as well, now !n plain words to
explain what extent of poisoning
properties is |*>s*essed by tlie peach
stone. The writers on Toxicology
state'that an ounce of the kernels contaiutf
alKiut one grain of pure hydrocyanic acid,
and it is known that one grain of the poi
son will almost certainty kill any adult
person.- Two-thirds of a grain has very
often been fatal, ami indeed, may be re
garded as a fatal dose for a child.
A Lively Hear Fttfht.
During the late snow-storru in Oregon,
ham Cook of Applegate discovered that
liears had been depredating on his hogs on
the acorn range. Taking a couple of dotrs
and accompanied by Andy Cook and J. W.
Gilmore, Mr. Cook followed the track of
one of the largest of the boars up the moun
tain towards the head of Humbug. The
snow became quite deep and the hunters,
of course, moved slowly. But in the after
noon they discovered a large cinuamofi
bsar crossing a gulch ahead of them. The
auimal was instantly treed by the dags and
shot by Bam Cook, but not mortally wound
ed. Mr. Gilmore's gun missed fire, but
Andy Cook shot the bear through the loins,
and he came tumbling down in the very
midst of the party and at once made fight.
The situation was now quite critical, two
of the guns being empty and the third so
wet as to be useless. The enraged animal
made first for Bam Cook, who thrust the
muzzle of his rifie into his mouth, while
the dogs, only partially trained, did their
best to attract his attention. Extracting
the barrel of the gun from the bear's mouth,
Sam attempted to club him with the other
end of the weapon, but he caught tlie stock
with his teeth and tore it to shteds. Seeing
Cook's peril, Gilmore struck the bear on
top of the head with his tomahawk, frac
turing the skull in several places, but witli.-
out tlie slightest apparent, effect. By this
time Andy had reloaded, and just when
Bruin was about to scoop the whole-party,
dogs aud all, he broke his neck by a well
direateu shot and ended the controversy.
The liear weighed over four hundred
pounds and was exceedingly fat, and repaid
the boys w'ell for their day's sport.
Ileal Style.
A couple of young ladies who went to
Dubuque to spend the holidays concluded
to couple style with economy, and did so ef
fectually. They'left Chicago in a common
codch on the Illinois Central Railroad, sit
ting with their eyes towards a luxurious
palacp car trundling along at the rear, en
vying the half-dozen ladies who had it all
to themselves. When the traia arrived at
Freeport the two stylish young ladies con
eluded to engage seats in the palace car,
and entered it for that purpose.
"The seats in this car are extra, ladies,"
politely remarked the conductor.
"We are aware of that, sir. What do
you charge to Dubuque?"
"One dollar." *
"One dollar! That's too much.'''
"The pripc.dimlnishea, ladies; as we ap
proach Dubuque." •.
"What, it the price from Galena?"
"Thirty cents." * * \
"Well, we will occupy two seats from
Galena?"
"All right."
The young ladfes' left the Pullman, and
as they made their exit they w6re heard to
remark:
"Jane, it would be horrible to enter Du
buque in a common coach. Style is every
thing, and as it won't cost but thirty cents
each we'll go into the city in Style ;they
won't know but that we came all the way
from Chicago in the Pullman."
And sure enough upon the arrival of the
train their friends who were at the depot to
meet them found them in the palace coach.
Tlie Basque*.
The Bast pies are in many respects the
most jieculinr people dwelling in civiliza
tion, of which they really form nO part.
For centuries they have undergone very
little change, being scarcely ,effected by
revolntions or progress of any kind. They
number about 800,000, 130,000 being citi
zens of France, but the bulk and the most
distinctive of them occupying the Basque
Provinces in Spain—Biscay, Gqipuzcoa and
Alava. There is no record of their ever
having been subdued. Carthaginians, Ro
niaus. Goths, Saracens, Frenchmen, or
Spaniards have never effaced their marked
traits, corrupted the purity of their race,
or even modified their time-honored cus
toms. They are of medium size, compact
of frame, singularly vigorous and agile,
having light gray eyes, black hair and com
plexions darker than the Spaniards. Sim
ple in manners and character they are
proud and impetuous, determined and fiery
patriots, and merry; social and hospitable
withal. The women are coir ely and strong,
capable of, and often doing masculine
work; also notable for vivacity* suppleness
and grace, and wear gay head-dresses over
their variously braided and twisted locks.
Both sexes are exceedingly fond of games,
festivals, ttrusic and dancing. The national
costume is a red jacket, big breeches, red
sash, square-knotted cruvat, benipeu shoes
and pointed cap. Their manners are pat
riarehal, and their habits also. While the
sexes mingle without restarint, they are re
ligiously strict. Their soil is fertile, aud
the Basques are so industrious that they
produce good crops generally, notwith
standing their primitive agriculture. They
are. practically, democrats, the condition
of all being very nearly equal, as the nobili
ty, who derived their orgin mainly from
the Mt>ors, are very few. They have very
lew towns or villages, their habitations be
ing scattered over most of the heights of
Hie three Provinces. Politically, they are
divided into districts, each of which chooses
an Alcalde, who is both a civil and mili
tary officer, aud a member of the Junta
meeting annually in some one of the towns
to deliberate upon public affairs. The Al
caldes are al ways men of age and experi
ence, and futhers of fam lies. The Bas
ques' rights are protected by written consti
tution*, granted them by ancient Spanish
Kings. They are stanch, even bigoted,
Tioman f'at holies; have great reverence for
priest* and monks, and are inclined to sup
erstition. 'l'bey are sup|xed to be the
last remnant of the old Iberians, and have
ever preserved an exalted reputation for
courage among their native mountains.
They were the O&ntabri of the Romans,
who admired them for their sturdy defense
of liberty, and are alluded to by Horace as
a people very hard to teach to bear the
yoke. Centuries later, tbey fell, in the re
nowned defiles of Rwncevalles, upon C'lutr
letnague and his army when returning to
France, slew his liravest palladia*, and
compelled him to fly for his life. Euscaldunac
is the name the Basques give themselves,
aud their country they call Euscaleria.
The are prouder even than the Spaniards,
and the mere fact of being born in their
district* secures the privileges of universal
nobilitv.
Flu*.
Customer lo lady clerk Id a very large
store: ,
Customer—"Show me some pins."
Lady clerk talks on to the next lady
clerk:
"And he said that she—and he—took
her to Wallack's—and he —and she—ope
ra—and lie—'* •
Customer—"Will you show me some
pins?"
Lady clerk goes indifferently to shelf and
takes down a box of pins, giving customer
the impression that She had heard the first re
quest, but wasn't quite ready to attend to
it. clerk puts the box negligently
down before customer and goes on
talkiug: "Ami he was—every night—and
I—and she —and he—oh! I knew they
were there—and I—apd he—and she "
C. —"I want English pins—"
L. C. (glances at customer as if very
much anuoyed that any other pins should
be called fur than those it is most conveni
ent to take down) —"And I—and he—
and she—. O, I'm sure I saw him—and
I—and she "
C. —"liave you any English pins?"
L. C.—"No; and he—and she—at the
opera—and L—."
TirHl of Truly Good Men.
A starved Indian's dog wabbled from
tho agency with a bleached dry bone which
he picked up on a cliff overhanging a lake.
Sitting upon his haunches, he thus address
ed himself to the bone:
"Ah! delicious morsel, fain would I
gnaw you, but, alas! the Great Father,
has in His wisdom, removed my teeth and
claws; 1 can but feast my soul upon you
with one eve, as under the Quaker admin
istration I lost the other, for which I hold
them blamelesa. My ears were cropped by
tiie Presbyterians—but with the best of
The Episcopalians took my tail
off a trifle too short. My hair is as yet—"
"Brother," said the sly trading fox, who
had crept up, "heard the good news?"
"No," replied the dog, sitting upon the
bone. 'yh*
"The commissioner has come, this agent
is to be bounced and vOu are to be turned
over to the Sweden —New—Jeru—salems."
The dog sang his d<.ath-soug* leaped into
the air, and the rising bubbles marked his
grave.
"Unless this church business 9tops, I,
too, must starve," said the red-haired tra
der, as he slipped off with the bone.
A Kemarkable Burial Plaoe.
After ascending the tower at Pisa, and
enjoying the view we had still an hour to
devote to the Campo Santo near by. This
cloistered cemetery, constructed 000 years
ago, is a vast rectangle surrounded by
arches. After the.loss of. the Holy Land,,
we an* told,.tlie pisans caused over fifty
ships': loads of soij to be brought hither from
Mt. Calvary, in order that the dead might
rest' in what they conceived to be holy*
ground. It was in this Campo Santo that
the earliest Tusoan artists were taught to
emulate each other's powers, and here the
walls are covered with remarkable represen
tations of historical subjects aud sacred ob
jects, The original of many pictures with
which we are familiar in engravings are
still to tie seen here, such as "Noah Inebri
ated," "Building of the Tower of Babel,"
"The Last Judgement," etc. The tomb
stones of those buried here form the pave
ment of the arcades. The sculptures and
monuments and has reliefs in the Campo
Santo are nearly innumerable, the whole
forming a most strange and weird collec
tion, to which "'We had devoted the early
twilight hour, and which did not fail to
leavo upon the imagination a sense of gloom
quite indescribable.
The Ventilation Fiend,
Ever sioce fresh air was invented has the
earth been cursed with people who fancied
themselves appointed to ladle out vast vol
umes, aerial cataracts, chilling torrents of
fresh air to nervous, timid, delicate people
who don't want a pint of it. The ventila
tion idiot, who has not seen him? Who
has not suffered at his pitiless hands! Who
has not longed to kill him? He haunts the
railway-train, and makes his dwelling in
the church; he goes to the theatre; he in
vades your offices; he tramples on the
sanctity of your home; and, wherever he
goes and wherever he comes, he brings with
hipa blasts from Greenland and theories
from the stormy caves of iEolus. And he
sweeps down upon you, and your peace,
and your tranquil home like a tornado,
and he overwhelms you with fresh air un
til you want to suffocate. . How you do
hate him, the whose hobby Is ventila
tion.
Charley'* Ghent Story. '
"Talking of stealing," said Charley Ben
net, dropping the pumpkin he was turning
into a lantern, "did I ever tell you fellers
about the time I went down to old Pop
Robins's to steal apples, and came back
past the barn where the horsethief hung
himself years and years ago, 'cause he
knew that the constables—they called 'em
constables in those times—were after him,
and tliat he'd be hung by somebody else if
he didn't? No? Here is a ghost story for
you, then, and 1 hope it will be a warning
to you, all never to take anything that
don't belong to you 'specially apples."
"You see, Billy Evans and I were staying
with our'folks at the hotel in Bramble wood
that summer, and about two miles away
was Pop Robin's farm. He used to bring
eggs and chickens and vegetables and fruit
to the hotel; and, oh my! wasn't he stingy?
—you'd 1 >etter believe it. He wouldn't even
give you two or throe blackberries, and if
you asked him for an apple, he'd tremble
all over. A reg'lar old miser he was, with
lots of money, and a bully apple orchard.
'Let's go there some night and help our
selves,' savs Billy Evans, one day. 'Dogs,,
says I. Only one,' says lie; 'I know him,
and so do you—old Snaggletooth; I gave
hun almost all the meat we took for crab
Iwitflhcday we didn't catch any. ''All right'
says I.
"But when the night we'd agreed on
came, Billy had cousins—girls—d.wn from
New i'ork, and he had to stay home and
enter lain them. 1 don't care much for
giris myself, and I was afraid they might
want me to help entertain them too, so I
made up my mind to go down to Pop Rob
in s alone. It was a splendid night; the
moon shone so bright that it was almost as
light as day. I scudded along, wliistling
away, until I got within half a mile of the
orchard, and then I stopped my noise and
walked as softly as possible, till I came to
the first apple tree. I shinned up that tree iD
a jiffy (old Suaggietooih didn't put in an ap
pearance), filled my bag with jolly fat ap
ples, and slid down again. But when 1
came to lift the bag up on my ahoulder, 1
found it was awful heavy to carry so far, and
1 was just agoing to dump some of the ap
ples out, when I remembered ail of a sud
den that if i cut across the meadow to the
plank road, I could get back to the hotel
in a liuie more than half the time it would
take to go the way I came.
"So I shouldered my load and was nearly
across the meadow before I thought of
the haunted bam at the end of it. It wasn't
a nice thing to remember; but I wasn't ago
ing to turn back, ghost or no ghost, and I
tried to whistle again, when all at once that
thing A1 Smith was singing just now pop
ed into my head, and says I to myself,
"Thai's so, Charles F. Rennet; you and
your ehums may think its great fun to help
yourselves to other people's apples and
water-melons and such things, but it's just
as much stealing as thougi you went into
a man's house and stole his coat.' It doesn't
seem as bad when you're going for them,
but you're coming back, up a lonely road
ail alone, at ten o' clock at night, a lot of
stolen apples on your back, and a haunted
bam not far off, it seems worse.
"All the same, I held on to the apples
And when I faced the bam I determined
I'd whistle if I died in the attempt; but,
boys, 1 don't believe anybody could have
told that 'Yankee Doodle' from 'Auid
Lang Syne.' I tell you my heart jumped;
when 1 passed the tumble-down old place;
but it stood still when, as 1 marched up the
the plank-road, 1 heard a step behind me.
I wheeled around in a instant, but there
was nothing te be seen. The moon shone
as bright as ever, but there was nothing to
be seen! 'I must have imagined it,' says
Ito myself, and I walked a little faster,
listening with all my might, and sure
enougli pat, pat, pat, came the step after
me. Again I wheeled round. Not a thing
did I see. And again I started on, the
apples growing heavier and heavier. Pat,
pat, pat, came the step. It wasn't like a
human step. That made it more dreadful.
'lt must be the ghoet,' I thought: and I
don't mind telling you, fellers, I never was
so frightened in my life. The time I fell
overboard was nothing to it. I made up
my mind, when I reached the bridge that
crossed a little brook near our hotel, I'd
streak it (I hadn't exactly run yet for I was
saving my strength till the last). But be
fore I got to the bridge, says I to myself—
and I must nave said it out loud, though 1
didn't mean to—'Perhaps he want's the
apples.' < . a;
"Apples!' repeated a hoarse voice, with
a horrid laugh.
* "I tell you, boys, those apples flew, and
I flew too. Over the bridge I went like
lightning, and ran right into Barney Rear
don, one of the stablemen, who was com
ing to look for me. 'Something has follow
ed me,' I gasped, 'from the haunted barn —
the ghost!' 'Did you see it?' says he. 'No,
savs L though I turned round a dozen
times to look for it. But I heard it pat,
, pat, pat, behind me all the way.' 'And it's
behind you now,' says Barney, bursting
'into aloud laugh. I jumped about six feet.
'There it is, says Barney, roaring again,
and pomtiugto—Pop Robin's tame raven!
The sly old thing looked up at me, nodded
its shining black head, Croaked 'Apples!'
and walked off. It had followed me from
the barn, and every time I wheeled quickly
round, it hopped just as quickly behind
me, and so of course I saw nothing but the
long road and the moonlight on it. But I
never want to be scared again, and if evt r
any of you boys go for anything belonging
to other people, don't you count me in."
"What became of the apples?' asked
Jerry O' Neil
"if you'd been there I could have told
you," said Charley,
Longevity of Quaker*.
It appears from the annual iift of mem
bers of the Society of Friends, that the
number of deaths among that body during
the past year in (Jreat Britian and Irelaud,
was 281. There are about 17,000 members;
the mortality is consequently much below
that of the population generally, and, again,
the figures show the longevity which pre
vails amongst the members of the Society
The infant mortality was very small, only
15 deaths of children under one tear; be
tween one and five years, eighteen occur
red; between five and twenty years, elev
en; between twenty and thirty years, nine
teeen; from thirty to forty years, fifteen;
and eleven only between forty and fifty
years,. Above fifty years old to sixty, the
deaths were twenty-four; between sixty
and seventy, forty-six; while from seventy
to eighty —the most fatal period—the deaths
were sixty-five; above eighty and below
ninety the number was fifty-three; while
from ninety to one-hundred, there were
five deaths.
NO. 10.