Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, March 18, 1880, Image 1
VOL. LIV. PROFESSIOX.IL L\IRDS. O. T. Alexander. C. M Bower. it BOWER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BE LLEFONTE, PA. Office in Qarman's new building. JOHN B. LINN," ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTK PA. Office on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFCXTK, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond. D. G. Bush. 8. H. Yocum. D. H. Hastings. jgUSfl, YOCUM it HASTINGS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTK, PA. High Street, Opposite First National Bank. C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LA W. BELLEFONTK PA. ITactices in all the courts of centre Conner. Spec al attention to collections. Consultations in German or English. F. REEDER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTK PA. All bus ness promptly attended to. Collection of claims a speciality. J. A. Beaver " J. W. Uepliart. JJEAVER & GEPHART, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTK PA. omce on Alleghany Street, North of High. \y A. MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Offlce on Woodring's Block, Opposite Court Hou^e. S. KELLER," ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Consultations In English or German. Office In Lyon*. Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, 4 ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTK PA. Office in the rooms formerly occupied by the late w. P. Wilson. jiJILLHEIM BANKING CO., MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. A. WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPH, Pres. IIAR I'ER, AUCTIONEER, REBER3BURQ, PA. satisfaction Guaranteed. One really kind office of love to amel- 1 iorate the distresses of a suffering child of humanity has more power to refine and exalt the soul than the study of whole tomes of theories on the per fectibility of human virtue. A Frenchman, eight days after mar riage, and while on his wedding trip, received a telegram announcing the death of his mother-in-law, and, with touching sincerity, writes her epitaph : "To the best of mothers-in-law." Xo place, no company, no age, no person is temptation free. Let no man boast that he was never tempted; let him not be high-minded, but fear, foi he may be surprised In that very in stant wherein he boasteth that he was never tempted at all. In Cicero and Plato and other such writers, I meet with many things acute ly said and things that awaken some fervor and desire; but in none of them do I find the words, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and 1 will give you rest." It should be pointed out with con tinual earnestness that the essence of lying is in deception, not in words; a lie may be told by silence, by equivoca tion, by the accent on a syllable, by a glanc6 of the eye attaching a peculiar significance to a sentence. We need to change our standards. Men must be honest in proportion to their virtue, and considered rich by the measure of integrity. Life Is so much wasted that it loses the divine idea, which is not the number of a man's days but the character of his life. Give us sincere friends, or none. This hollow glitter of smiles and words —compliments that mean nothing— protestations of affection as solid as the froth from champagne —invitations that are but pretty sentences, uttered be cause such things are all worthless. So deeply inherent is it in this life of ours that men have to suffer for each other's sins, so inevitably diffusive is human suffering, that even justice makes its victims and there is no retri bution that does not spread beyond its mark in pulsations of unmerited pain. Infinite toil would not enable you to sweep away a mist; but by ascending a little you may look over it altogether. So It is with our moral improvement. We wrestle fiercely with a vicious habit which would have no hold upon us if we ascended into a higher moral atmos phere. lie pitlieiit ; §fipwi AT REST. Once more the ripened year unfolds Her | eimona, gold embossed; And where the grand oaks, tempest tossed Lift up bare arms, oomumuion holds With Hiui who thus a bound lias set for human longing and regret! While blessed llet-t. in slumber deep thi'Jrooping eyelids ln\s ah .ml, And spreading white wings o'er the laud, l?idi stars eternal vigil keep 'Till sleeps sweet iutluenee shall restore The earth to (ruitfulnesa once more! Thus the full year so lightly rounds ller finished meed of work, an 1 stands Exultant; 'though her fo'ded hands Assures us that all peace abounds. Ami past all longing and ie n ret Is the fair goal Aer soul has set Flow differ ut we! We trembling stand On our grave'B brink and cringing cling To all the trausieut bop-s which tluig Their fitful lights along the *trau<l. And 'till our star of life has set Cheat us wiih louging and r gret! Oh! typo of everything Divine— Dear Nature—i)raw us closer yet, Aud us where no va:n regret Cau our uuwilhug souls confine. And fold us fond embrace. \\ ht*u we shall meet l>ea'.h face to face! The Widow's Wiles. Paul Carroll was one afternoon sitting listlessly on the porch of the "Farmers' Inn," when who should alight from the old stage but his friend, Harry Colemau. There was a hearty greeting; each had surprised the other by his selection of this rustic re treat. "Come!" said Coleman, "tell me who she is. Some rustic l>eauty I'll venture, with cheeks like blush roses." "Ha. ha!" laughed Paul. "Did the green-eyed monster inform you that I was trespassing on your rights?" Harry, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, answered: "1 have run down af the solicitation of a little cousin of mine. Come, get off that hunting regalia and 1 will pre sent you to the sweetest little cousin in the world." Paul drawled listlessly : "Well, any thing for a change!" Good-natured Coleman was used to his friend's manner, and only quickened his pace when once they had started. They approached the farm-house as the twilight descended. "Good evening, gipsy!" said Harry, rais ing his hat. "You see I have kept my word." He hasteued towards the old swing gate to receive the merry greeting awaiting him, then said, gaily, "I found my dearest friend at the inn. and have brought him with me. Miss Jardine —Mr. Carroll." Paul opened his keen gray eyes a trifle wider to discern the young girl in the com ing shadow; her mellow, rich voice fell | upon his ear so harmoniously and musical ly, that he tried to hear what was said. This much he did hear, as she tripped i ahead, leaning on her cousin's arm, and talking in an undertone: "I detest that; dearest friend of yours! He has shot all my pet squirrels." "Ha, ha!" laughed Coleman. Yes, he is a cruel fellow; look out for him." Well did Anna Jardine remember those warning words! The family and visitors formed a pleasant group. Paul tried his best to define the j peculiar charm of this girl. She avoided him; that he kuew, and there waa a novel ty in the fact. She was young and culti vated, not beautiful, but with a presence bewitching and piquant. She seems ab stracted, not entering into the general con versation ; but as she raised the shy brown eyes there was a language in them that en tered his heart. One by one the rest strolled out. Paul walked to ihe piano and, turning over the music, found the popular songs of the day. "Will you sing, Miss Jardine?" he said, j almost imploringly. Without a moment's hesitation she com plied with his request. The sweet con tralto, with its soul stirring pathos, was too grand for couimon-piace thanks. Paul Carroll and Anua Jardine had been betrothed ODC year. He had won her by bis deep, idolatrous love, and she had en throned him king—her first love and her last. Paul Carroll was one of the guests at the mansion of Anna's aunt, where she was spending the winter in the gay metropolis, and a grand dinner was given in his honor. The bewitching woman on the barrister's right had suddenly, like some great light, burst upon the fashionable world. A widow and a blonde! A woman in her earlv thir ' ties, with soft blue eyes that knew now to j send every glance with power. She had come among them with reports of unbound ed wealth. j Paul Carroll seemed completely captiva ; ted by her fascinations, careless of the suf fe mg he was inflicting upon one constant, true souled woman. To-night, for an instant, he mentally contrasted the two, and on a sudden im pulse drank to the health of his betrothed. The sudden shock to Mrs. L'Estrange's feel ings was beyond description. She was foil ed. When he led lier to the piano, and solic ited a farewell, she sang a vocal waltz; the brilliant air fell flatly on his car; there was no reponse in his heart to the words she sang at him. "Ah! fly to the one most dear." He followed his betrothed to her hiding place in yonder alcove, and she, crimsoning like a rose with .joy, looked his forgiyeness, and t they were one in heart again. Two years passed. Summer with its dreamy days and shifting shadows, had come once more. Two years had been a century in Anna's life; within the brown eyes was written, "Life is earnest," and there were tell-tale lines that lay in broken bars over the fair, girlish brow. Not, how ever, that Paul Carroll neglected any of the great items that go so far with the world as regarded his wife's happiness. Carroll was lounging on the steps of a sea side hotel with a friend, who remarked, "Have you seen her —the new-comer? She gets up stunningly, I assure you. But talk of angels and they are unfolding their pin ions, for here she comes." He rose with a courtly bow to the magni ficently-dressed lady coming toward them. | But, to his surprise, Mrs. L'Estrange coolly nodded and rustled on. ' Carroll's face, at all times a puzzle, now MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 18, 1880. remained inscrutable. He lfiurmured, "Her coldness is worth a legion of smiles." Clendenning thought it singular that any woman could receive Carroll so coolly, and took renewed interest in thinking what the result of this spur to the mettle of the niau would be. The grand ball of the seasou hail reached its height. It grew tame, particularly to Mrs. Carroll, who had recognized the rival of her girlhood. • Now I'aul was bending over this bewitch ing woman, and she sang to him once again. She threw off the icy exterior, for "ven geance is sweet." She bad not forgotten that one dinner-party, when the shy, brown —eyed woman came between them. It was ail so like a dream to him—the white hand resting on his arm, and the cob web handkerchief which she fluttered so prettily. They had wandered from the house, lie led her to the shady nook in the vine wreathed corner, where the moon's rays lay like silver bars. In her seeming embarrassment she tore the rose leaves from their snowy-resting place; he did not note the glance and the scorn that swept her features as the white teeth bit the led lips, lie was enehuuted again. Paul took the remnant of the mutilated rose, thanking her for this relic. Her silence was broken by sobs, and if a mighty power in smiles, what danger in her tears! She said, with averted face, "Too late for relics! You are another's, and this interview must end." Bhe turned to go. Paul, with pallid face and luminous eyes, besought her not to leave him without a word of hope that she could love him still. "1 will answer you to-morrow at the park," she replied. A silent figure, which seemed like statu ary among the odorous evergreens, the dead ly whiteness only relieved by the lace scarf, glided away, and Anna Carroll clasped her hands in agony. The weak man and wicked woman kept their engagement. He said, in significant tones, "1 have come to hear your answer." Her eyes kindled in triumph, and, with an uplifted glance, she replied, "if you pos sessed my love two years ago, you have it now intensified a hundred times! Hut, ah! you are beyond love's reach." A single horsewoman just then approach ed with a dangerous light in her usually shy eyes. Paul's wife. "May I have a word with you, Paul ?" she asked. 11c walked slowly by her horse's side. Quietly she drew from her finger the gold u circlet, saying; "Take it back for ever and ever!" , He thought of the anger of the previous evening and, in order to avoid a scene, re plied : "We will talk about this hereafter. Without uttering a word Anna dashed from his side. Paui returned to a deserted room, and as he read his wife's farewell missive his heart was touched; anil he started to follow her, meeting on his way the woman who had come between them. Ah! he was under the tyranny of a des pot who made him a fettered slave, and humiliated him in his own estimation. The avenue leading to the hotel was thronged with equipages. Paul Carroll leaned liack among the cushions of the low phaeton. The conspicuous yellow curls and white plume of the fair widow were tossed by the lake breezes. On their return from the hotel Mrs. L'Es trange noted the recklessness of the man, while the champagne he had taken betray ed itself in his unusual hilarity. He had taken the reins. A carriage tried to pass them. Carroll, with an oath goad ed his horse to wildest speed. The rival vehicle was drawn by snow-white horses. The road grew narrower.. Carroll mad dened by strong drink, heeds not the grasp of the woman whose lightest wish had been his law. "Oh, in mercy, stop!'' she pleaded. There was a whizzing of horses' hoofs — a fearful crash —a wild scream of agony— the horses wounded, the carriages broken, and all that was left of elegant, stately Paul Carroll was a mutilated mass. Mrs. L'Estrange lay in the darkened room, while a noiseless step indicated the presence of the careful nurse. Mrs. Carroll had forgiven the dying wo man whose sin had cost her so dear. The sad broken-hearted wife followed the remains of her husband to the tomb. When she returned to the great throbbing city, many a passer by noted the mute elo quence of the pale, sad face, little dream ing of the great tragedy that had occurred on the stage of her life, leaving the sequel to unfold when we, too, have played the last act, and perhaps lie away in some quiet corner awaiting judgment. She "Set In." A slight girl dressed In black, with a sad face, explained to a news gatherer how it happened that she engaged in draw poker lon a railway train. "You see," she be gan, "after we left Buffalo, 1 fouud that in some way I liaiDlost my money, ami what to do I didn't know. 1 had my ticket in another pocket, and that helped matters. Two gentlemen in the section just ahead of me were playing cards. It was poker. 1 became interested in the game, for you see I often play it with my brothers for corn, and they say I play pretty well. Pretty soon I irtade some remark about the game, and then they asked me if I wouldn't like to 'set in.' Just for the fun of the thing, I said yes, and I never had such luck. I guess they let me win the first two or three times because 1 was a lady, but after that they played for all they were worth, and so did I. And you never saw the equal of the cards I held. They called me once, and all I had was three aces and two nines." "Is that a good "hand?" "Well I should say so, It was good for $8 that time.'' "How much did you win in all?" "Oh, somewhere between S4O and SSO. I haven't counted it yet." Modernized Othello. Just previous to the smothering scene in "Othello," at the N Theatre, recently, and while the curtain was down, the fol lowing conversation was overheard by a reporter; "What an awfully jealous man Othello is, to be sure. You'll never be so when we are married, will you?" "I should say not." "I can guess how it will end," continued the fair one. "Now the villain will be found out and there will be a reconcilia tion." "Yes, my dear, I'm certain of it!" 11U FlrxtJOrunk. 1 am sixty yearn old, and never got drunk till day before yesterday," remarked old Uncle Jesse White, as he sat on a salt bar rel in front of a grocery store. "1 have lived in Arkansas for forty years—-cum here from East Tennessy—and the thought that I got drunk in the evening of my life, when I can just see my gray hairs shiuiug in twi i light, is enough to make me throw myself into the river." "Tell us how it occurred, Uncle Jesse," asked a bystander. "Well, ioino tune ago, tip in my neighbor hood," and he stopped miking and drew his pipe vigorously to see if the tire was out, "a Good Templar's lodge,was organized. All the young people in the community • jined, and pretty soon they came after me. My son Ike was the leadin' man. and he j says to me, 'Pap, I want you to jine this ; thing.' 'lke,' says 1, 'I don't know the taste of liquor, and 1 don't see the use of ijinen.' 'Pap,'says he, 'we want your in fluence. We are going to vote on the local option law pretty soon, and we want you publicly identified with the work.' Then my daughter Susan, she come around and I begged me to jine. 'Susan,'says I, 'you never seed your old father take a drink.' 'No, pap,' said she, 'hut we want you to help us to frown down the curse of intem- I perance.' Next our parson come around and sot my wife on me, and when they all got to druinmin' 1 had to jine. I jined on a Friday night, and on the following Satur day I got on-the lx>at to come down here. Something ailed me. Something kept say ing, Jesse White, you ain't a free man. j It bothered me, and wl #i I saw one cf the ' deck-hands turn up a jug I wondered if he had ever taken the pledge, aud when he set the jug down I walked around and looked at it, took hold of the corn cob stopper, walked away and smelt my fingers. I went up on deck and set down in front. Pretty soon two men came out and sat down. Af ter a while one of them remarked: 'The, Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina,'and without finishing the sentence both men laughed and drank out of a big black bottle. Thar was something in that governor business that took ifie. I had heard my father talk about it and laugh. 1 had often heard it, but no one had ever been positive what it was the governor said, only that the time between drinks hau been rather long. Pretty wwn one of the men reached down, took up the bottle, took out the cork, and said: 'The Governor of Nortli Carolina said to the ' Then lxth men laughed anil drank. I never felt so curious in my life. 1 liKikcd around at the trees on the bank, and at women who waved their handker , chiefs at us as we passed. Those governors had a ring about them that tingled my old blood. Just then one of the men turned, held the bottle toward me, and said: 'The Governor of North ' Before I knew it 1 had hold of the bottle. I turned it up and drank. All I thought about was the gov ernors, and when the shadows of Ike, Su san, the parson and my wife flitted through my brain, the two governors, tall and grand, stalked right up aud ran over them. 'The Governor of North Carolina' and 1 had an other pull, and a long one. I began to see the governors in their true light 1 thought they were the best fellows in the world. The boat seemed to be running a mile a minute, and I didn't care what she did so long as the governors were with us. Well, .Ixiys, the governors kept a remarkin' and I kept pullin', and by the time-1 got to Little Bock, I was as drunk as an owl. Oh, I was as drunk as a mule—a mink. I got off the boat and yelled, 'Hoorah for the Governor of North Carolina!' and the first thing I knowed 1 found myself in a sort of a prison. First time I was ever locked up, boys. Fust time 1 ever was drunk, and I am sixty odd years old. Wonderful IJOKH. There is a wondcrlul dog in Detroit, an Irish water spaniel. She always awakens her master at exactly 6 o'clock in the morning. On Sundays, when he takes his cane, she is frantic to accompany him on his walk. She has a useful talent for bring ing in firewood. She has also a passion for ■ sardines; sits at the table; but never offers i to eat what is on her plate until Ihe family have finished and risen. She is exceedingly expert in catching ball. She has arrived at the dignity of a long notice in a Detroit newspaper. Speaking of dogs, there is one in Sacramento, Cal., famous for its hostil ity to Chinamen: and if one of them enters the house, lie is liable to be nibbled. "The other day the dog went to the dining-room and at once became furious. He growled, barked and bristled and ran all about in quest of his enemy, but as no Chinaman was present, his conduct was regarded as inexplicable, until a crock of Chinese pre served ginger was observed on the table. That was what the dog smelt and what he was after.'"—so at least says the veracious narrator of the story. Wooilvn Books on Wooil. A most interesting, as well as novel, col lection of books is to be found in a library in the province of Cassel. These volumes appear like so many wixxicn blocks; but each block is a complete history of the tree which it represents. For instance, an oak book is formed thus : The bark is stripped from the back, and the title is inserted. One side—these bix>ks are all bound in "boards" —is formed from the split wood, showing the grain. The opposite side shows the varnished wood. Inside, as one might naturally expect, are the leaves; but the seed, the fruit, the moss that grows upon the trunk, the insects that feed upon it, fcc., arc all represented as well. To these specimens is added a simple account of the tree, its usual location, the manner of its growth, and no doubt other branches of its history. That. That a man who rani.ot lead the cotil lion is utterly worthless in fashionable so ciety. That skating on artificial ice is an excel lent ground work tor genuine flirtations. That the dinner card mania has been done for all it is worth and ought to be stopped once for all. That the florist refuses to send baskets on credit any more unless security of some kind is deposited. That people should be careful how they take in and do for every foreigner who re presents himself to be what he is not. That Derby hats for ladies have ceased to lie genteel', and tbe sooner discarded the better for all demoiselles concerned. That nurse girls senl out with the baby carriages should not have any more confl deuce imposed in them than the law allows. Sayings. No weeds wilt so quick as those of wid ows. Some people are like an egg—too full of themselves for anything else. The dog is the only tiling that loves some body else lietter than himself. There are men so pious that when they go fishing on Sunday they pray for good luck. Men were created u little lower than the angels—and they have been getting a little lower ever since. Youug man, never take the bull by the horns. Always take him by the tail—and then you can let go. Young man, don't cry-over spilt milk. Pick up your pail and your milking stool and go for the next cow. Coquettes make better wives than prudes —and there are better ones iu the market than cither of them. A man who is always confessing his sins and never correcting them, is the most un reliable of all sinnqrs. Life ain't much more than a farce any way—but it is highly important that the farce should be well played. A live man is like the little pig—be weans young, anil begins to root early. He is the pepper-sass of creation. The hump on a man's back is not so much the subject of ridicule as is the wreath of flowers with which he seeks to hide it. A man who makes up his mind to be come a rascal had better first examine him self and see if he was not better intended for a fool. A man who will sit for half a day fishing over the side of a boat with no bait on his hook, isn't afilicted with patience. iless is what ails him. A life insurance agent is too cold and calculating for comfort—too much like an undertaker that comes around about once a week to see how your cough is getting along. It I had seventy-five children, I would teach sixty of them to shut the d<x>r after them when they go out, and I wouldn't care whether the other fifteen learned any thing or not. Happiness is wonderfully like a flea. When you put your finger on him he don't seem to be there, but when you follow him to where he actually is—he don't seem to be there also. The man who can draw half a pint of New Orleans molasses' from a half inch auger hole, and wliile he is waiting for liis can to fill can sing, "Home, Sweet Home" —ain't sudden enough for 188 U. The live man rs as busy as a girl with two beaux. He is often like the hornet — very busy—but what he is about the Ix>rd only knows. He is not always a deep thinker. He is the American pet—a mys tery to foreigners. Slrn. Smith's FodU-r' Trap. The tlomicile of the Smiths is located on Mission street, just between Woodward's gardens and the city front, in I>etrnit. It may be recognized by the front yard and the very peculiar canvas apparatus which is attached to the fence. This piece of can vas stretches from the top of the fence to a pair of poles, firmly fastened to the side walk below, and forms an inclined pla-ie, reaching nearly to the ground, which bears a close resemblance to the netting used in gymnasiums and circuses, as a safe recepta cle for falling acrobats. For several years past Mrs. Smith, in common with her sister housewives throughout the city, has been harrassed by the visits of peddlers, sewing machine agents, medical canvassers, vege table venders, traveling tinsmiths, insurance solicitors, and a host of other gentry who annoy and render miserable the female population of the city. Mrs. Smith, less fortunate than many housewives, is without a servant, and has hitherto been compelled to make all the way from three hundred to four hundred trips a day to the front door. In fact, the bell rang, tinkled, buzzed and rattled almost continually, and so great was the strain upon the tintinnabulating appara tus that a new wire had to be put iu two or three times a month, and even the knob wore out quarterly. This state of affairs was not only expensive and troublesome, but was gradually reducing Mrs. Smith to a skeleton, and she waxed weaker and more attenuated. She calculated, and calculated very correctly, that she traveled from six to eight miles a day in her tramps to the door. At last Mrs. Smith, inspired by desperation, hit upon a plan which has since proved so effective. A skilful machinist was imme diately employed and directed to construct beneath the front doorstep a compact and powerful apparatus connected with a spring on the inside of the threshold, which, when pressed by the light foot of Mrs. Smith, would suddenly bring into play tbe great forces of tbe bidden machinery and press the doorstep upward with such terrible velocity that its unfortunate occupant would b hurled into space. The flying peddler was supposed, after being precipitated from the doorstep, to describe a graceful paralal ia, which would have its termination in the depths of the canvas. The receptacle, be ing an inclined plane, was expected to gently drop the involifhtary acrobat to the sidewalk below. At last the ingenious ap paratus was completed, and the mechanic assured the inveutress that her idea would muktt the young peddler shoot, thus uncon sciously Inverting an old expression. He also expressed his confidence that the afore said canvas would invariably be the place of descent. Mrs. Smith placed a chair near the door, and serenely awaited the jingle which would indicate the approach of her first victim. She had not long to wait. Be fore ten minutes had expired, the bell gave a premonitory tinkle. Opening the door, Mrs. Smith smiled on the outsider with more complaisance than she had manifested for years before. She did not forget, how ever, to olace her left foot in close proximi ty to the little spring before mentioned. "Madam," ingenuously asked the uncon scious intruder, "may I sell you a sewing He was, however, called away so sudden ly that he had no time to complete his question, for Mrs. Smith had pressed the spring, the step had flashed upward, and lo! the poor sewing machine man had disap peared. Alas! for human ingenuity, how ever, he reappeared at the wrong place, and, instead of falling into the canvas so kindly prepared for his convenience, struck against the. fence with great violence, just after completing his third somersault. The neighbors thought that an unfortunate aeronaut had been pitched from his balloon, and flocked to the spot in scores. The poor fellow had a leg fractured, and the doctor across the street added another to his list of patients. The machine was immediately perfected, and the next morning eperated with beautiful accuracy. During the morning Mr. Smith advocated the removal of the canvas, on the ground that intruders deserved to suffer. In the wee small hours of the next morning, however, lie reached his house iu a state of semi-inebrity which made his footsteps uncertain, and while en tering the door he was incautious enough to place his right foot on the little spring before he removed his left foot from the diMirstep. The result was a rapid aerial (light., a fall into the canvas, a slide on the sidewalk, and a walk back to the door. This little incident removed the objectious which Mr. Smith hail formerly to the can vas, and one day he watched fifty or sixty peddlers and canvassers practice muscular contortions during their (light from the step to the canvas without feeling the slightest regret that they were uninjured. It will lie proper in conclusion to inform the pub lic that Mrs. Smith has reserved the patent right of her wonderful invention. A Code of Etiquette. The card should l>e printed or written very plainly. White cards, withoufany embellishment, are regarded as in the best taste; avoiding extremes in size. The gentleman's card should contain nothing except the name and address of the caller; in general, omit the address. The titles of "Hon.," "Mr.," "Esq.," etc., are not allowed on calling cards. "Mrs.," or "Miss" are admissible on ladies cards. Professional titles, such as "Dr.," "Rev." and M. I).," etc., are ad missible on gentlemen's cards. A military title, such as "Lieut.," "t'apt.," "Gen.," "U. 8. A.," "U. S. N.," etc., is also admissible. The handsomest style is that Which is engraved; next is that which is beautifully written; next comes the printed card, in text letter. At a hotel, when calling on any one, send your card and await a reply in the recep tion room. If two or more ladies aro in the house hold, the turning down of a corner signifies that the card ia for all the ladies. ( arils may be left immediately where a death is known, but a call of sympathy and condolence is not to be until a week after the bereavement. The lady in mourning who may not de sire to make calls will send mourning-cards to her friends instead during the season of retirement from society. It is quite well to send in your card by a servant, as the mispronunciation of the name is thus avoided. If a lady is not at home, it will also serve to show that you have called. The hostess should, if not desiring to see any one, send word that she is eugaged when the servant first goes to the door, aud not after the card lias been sent up. It is admissible, when a lady does not desire to see a caller, to instruct the servant to reply that "the mistress is not at home," the understanding being that, whether in the house or not, she is "not at home" for the reception of callers. A business card is inadmissible as a call ing card, unless the call be purely one for business. In making New Year's calls it is custo mary to present a card to each of the .u,.ics who receive with her, as well as to the hoe ess. In tuk ig a letter of introduction to a lady in the city, if you send it to her by the servants who answers the bell, also send your card with the same. The card being left in your absence, is the equivalent of a call. A ( all is now due from you to the person leaving the card. In leaving the city for a permanent resi dence abroad, it is customary to send out cards to intimate friends, addiug to the name "P. P. C."— Presents Parting Compliments. The ln*t;in and the Telephone. An amusing application of the wonders of the telephone as an assistant detective of crimes comes from Julian, California. Several horses were recently stolen in that neighborhood, and suspicion fell upon a certain Indian as the thief. Some one having introduced a telephone up there, the same was being exhibited, when it occur-, red to the owner of the stolen 1 orses to get the Indian to come in and hear the "Great Spirit" talk. The Indian took )ne of the cups and was thrilled with astonishment at being apparently so near the Great Keeper of the happy hunting grounds. After some little time spent in wonderment, the ludiau was solemnly commanded bv the Great Spirit to "give up those stolen horses 1" Dropping the cup as if he had beep shot, the Indian immediately confessed to having stolen the horses, and tremblingly promised, if bis life was spared, he would restore the 4 ; cuballos" at once, and he did so. A Discouraged Debtor. One could see that he had a grievance as he walked up and down the post office corridor, and pretty soon he met with a friend and began: "I'll be 'anged if I know what to make of this blarsted country!" "What's the matter with our great and glorious America?" asked the other. "Hin Hingland, God bless her, my gro cer sends me 'alf a barrel of wine or a box of tea, or ten pounds of coffee at the hend of the year as a present." "YCB." "While hover 'ere in this frozen-up country my grocer drinks the wine himself, blarst 'is heves! and sends me a statement, showing that I'm bowing 'im a balance of sl3 hon account. - What sort of away his this to hincourage me to run up a bill there hin 1880!" Meaning of tne Hands. Profound study has led a M. d'Arpen tigny to the conclusion thai the hands rep resent three types. Those who have fin gers with pointed tips are possessed of a rapid insight into things; are extrasensitive, pious and impulsive. This class belongs to the poets and artists. To the "square tops" belong scientific people; sensible, self contained characters, professional men. The spade-shaped tops—thick tips, with little pads of flesh on each side of the nails —are materialists, commercial, practical, with a high appreciation of all that tends to bodily ease and comfort. Each finger, no matter what the kind of hand, has also one joint—that which is nearest the palm— representing the body; another—the middle —the mind, and the top, the soul. Each of these divisions corresponds with one of the types above given. Dampen the Air. We can hardly too often suggest the im portance of providing ample moisture in all rooms heated by stoves, furnaces, steam pipes, or hot water pipes. There are sound scientific reasons for this, as well as in the results of a practical experience. As stated in "Short Notes of Air," every degree of heat added to the atmosphere in a room gives it a power of absorbing and secreting moisture. The air in a room 20 by 20 feet and ten feet high, at 30 deg. holds, secretes, about 11-2 pints of water. The same air heat ed at 70 deg. secretes upwards of two quarts of water; and unless this is supplied it is hungry for more water, absorbs it from every accessible source, from the furniture, from our bodies, and essentially from the breataing organs—the mouth, throat and lungs leaving them dry and husky. There fore, every time the air in the room is changed by the admission of fresh, cold air, and heated to 70 deg. two quarts of water should be evaporated into the room. The strong objections some have to warm-air heaters have arisen mainly from this cause. In usiug"furnace heaters we always put into the hot-air chamber extra water pans be sides any that are supplied by the manufac turers, and take good care to always have them filled with water. In stove-heated rooms there should usually be an evaporat ing surface of water equal to one square foot for every twelve feet square of flooring, and more if the water is not on a place hot enough to keep it rapidly evaporating. Plants in a room are mainly destroyed, or have a sickly growth, because the warm air becomes too diry and sucks out the very juice of the plants. The house plants— "olive" or otherwise—suffer similarly. In a warm room a large towel frequently wet and wrung so as hot to drip, and hung over a chair back near the stove, will make a marked difference in the comforable feeling and healthfulness of the atmosphere. Tlie Antiquity of Fork*. Among the valuable finds in the explo ration of the relics of the ancient lake dwellers of Swizerland is a pair of forks, apparently invented for table use. They were fashioned from the metatarsal bone of a stag. This gives a higher antiquity to table forks (if they were really Intended as such) than has hitherto been suspected. Other bone implements and ornaments are frequently found. Animal remains are also common. Among them are the bones of the dog, the badger and the common otter. The latter were doubtless met with in the immediate neighborhood of the lake, but the presence of the bones of the wild ox and of the bear indicate that the lake dwellers were bold and skilful hunters, ai well as ingenious tool-makers. They were also keepers of cattle, for the mes* numer ous animal remains brought to light were those of the common cow and the moor cow. These exist in every stage of growth, showing that their owners had a taste for both veal and beef, while their fondness for venison is proved by the many bones of the stag and roe discovered by the ex plorers. Evidence of a like character shows that they were hunters of the wild boar and eaters of the domesticated pig, and the existence of the beaver in Switzer land in prehistoric times is attested by the presence, among other bones, of several which comparative anatomists declare to have belonged to that rodent. One oinis sion on the list is striking. No mention is made 01 me bones of horses having been found, from which it may be inferred with tolerable certainty that the horse was either altogether unknown to the ancient lake dwellers, or that they had not succeeded in capturing and taming him. "I Knew It." "I'm hungry and ragged and half-gick and dead-broke," muttered a tramp, as he sat down for a sun-bath on the wharf at the foot of Griswold street; "but its just my luck." Last fall I got into Detroit just two hours too late to sell my vote. Nobody to blame. Found a big wallet on the street in December, and four police came up before I could hide it. Luck again. Got knocked down by a street car, but there was no opening for a suit and damages, because f was drunk. Just the way. Last fall nails were way down. I knew there'd be a rife, but I didn't buy and hold for the advance. Lost ten thousand dollars out and out. Al- . lus that way with me. Glass went up * twenty-flve per cent., but I hain't a pane on hand, excepting the pain in my back. Never knew it to fail. Now lumber's gone up, and I don't even own a fence-picket to realize on. Just me again. Fell into the river 'tother day, but instead of pulling me out and giving me a hot whisky they pulled me out and told me to leave town or I'd get the bounce. That's me again. Now I've got settled down here for a bit of a rest and a snooze, but I'll be routed out in less than fifteen minutes and know it. It'll be just my behanged luck!" He settled down, slid his hat over his face, and was just begining to feel sleepy when a hundred pounds of coal rattled down on him. "I knew it —I knew it I" shouted the tramp as he sprang up and nibbed the dust off his head—"l said so all the time, and I just wish the durned old hogshead hail come down along with the Goal and jammed rae through the wharf." Oar Floor*.. As long as we are obliged to tolerate poorly made floors, which shrink and warp and are unsightly to the eye, we must therefore, use carpus. But carpets in daily use can not be kept clean except by fre quent beating, and they do much toward corrupting the air by retaining impure gases, hiding the finest, most penetrating dust in their meshes and underneath them, and by giving off particles of ff ne wool into the atmosphere, with other dust, as they are swept or walked upon. There is a de mand for better floors; not necessarily in laid or mosaics, of different kinds of prec ious wood, but made double, of strong sea soned wood that will not shrink or warp (spruce, however well seasoned, is almost sure to warp,) and then carefully finished so as to be durable and clean. Carpeted floors seem a relief to the housekeeper when once the carpets are procured, fitted to the room and tacked down, because they do not show the dirt as the bare floors do. But oh, when they do get full of dust, how dirty they are. With warmly made floors and large, warm rugs, which can be taken out and shaken as often as necessary, how much cleaner houses might be. But in that case we must pay more attention to our floors— have them painted, oiled, or laid with boards of different colors, as the case may bf. NO. 11.