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