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.