Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, July 29, 1880, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    A OL. LIV.
C. T. Aiexaudci. C. M. ixovei.
UOtoe in GarmAQ'9 new building.
Office on Allegheny Street.
Northwest corner of Dlimond,
"YOUL'M. ilAdiiNGb,
High Street, oppos'te F rst National Bank*.
Prvt'ce* in tflo courts of Centre County.
Spec at attention to CoUecilons. Consultations
in German or Engl sh.
All bus ness promptly attendei to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
Office on Alleghany Stree', North of High.
Office on woodrlDg's Block, Opposite Coilrt
Consultations in English or German. Office
In Lyon', Building, Allegheny Street.
Offlce in the rooms formerly occupied by the
late w. p. Wilson.
Watches, Clocks. Jewelry. Silverware, & \ Re
pairing neatly and promply don* and war
ranted. Main Street, opposite Bank, M llhelm,
All business en'ruBt°l to him. su*h as writing
and acknowh-drlng Deeds. Mortgages Releas s.
Ac., will be executed wi h neatness and uls
patch. Office on Main stre* t.
Groceries. Notions. Drugs. Tobaccos, Cigars,
Fine ConfectlODeiles ai d in the line
of a flrfd-cIBS9 • -rotery st r<-.
Country Produce i afcen In exchange for goods.
Main st eet. opposite bank, Ml lhelui Pa.
- Bhop on Main Street, two h uses east of Bank,
Millbelm, Peiina.
All business promptly attended to.
collection of claims a i-peotalty.
Offlce opposite Jblsenbuth's Drug Store.
"It/I U&BEK & BALI ill,
Hardware, 6toves, Oils, Faints, Glass, Wall
Paper , coach Trimmings, and aaditeiy Ware,
Ac., Ac.
All grades of Patent wheels.
Corner of Main aud Penn street , MLlhelm,
Cutting a Specialty.
Shop next aour to Journal Book Store.
A. WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPE, Pres.
ya us faction Guaranteed.
Slt piilllete §iirtl
Tlion goest, and 1 abide. Like suuiu gray
towi r
Cruuil l ug t i ruin on desolate mountain
l)eath-siieut, save for soream ng eagle's
My pattern day waits Time's oorrodlng pow r.
Wlule tiiou, with win s of tlauie through
Love's vast space,
Like s me gteat plauet, traversest all
1, all in vain, at lonely ft nut of tears.
Must strive to quench my eoui's lb. rat for thy
but, 'mid tl y varied splendors sometimes
And s'.xv sometimes thy sweep of radiant
And tid iby voice old songs to mt
For dirges on uiv broken life's 10->t cause.
Which thou bast sung, wbiie I stood by thy
Iu those long buried hours before Love
The Wav to Lose Him.
Philip Vane's love sLny was very brief
He was one of those men who are uot easily
captivated, ami so he had remained heart
whole uulil the preceding spring. About
the first of May, he attended an agricultu
ral show iu an adjoining county, and it
closed up with athletic sports. There were
hundreds of daring youug fellows ready' to
compete' for the honor of crowning the
queen of love and beauty; but Philip Vaue
outstripped them all, and won the prize.
This prize was an exqusitc tiarsa of pearls,
and Miss Rose Denham, the prettiest girl in
Talbot, was the queen. Philip went
through the interesting ceremony of crown
ing her with the starry chaplet he had
won —and in doing so he had lost his
The red fires cf sunset had faded, and
the stars were out in thousands in the mis
t 3* autumn skies, when Philip reached the
little country house in which the Denhams
lived. He stole round to the drawing room
window. If was open, for the autumn
night was balmy, and he had a full view of
the apartment. Rose was at the piano, in
her becoming rveuing dress of sky-blue,
with her hair falling in golden showers
over her white shoulders. But she was
uot alone. Hanging over her, and toying
with her ringlets, as he turned the music,
was a young man of an exceedingly fop
pish appearance; aud Rcxse did not seem in
the least annoyed by his excessive faniiliar
it3', for while she sung, she would toss her
beautiful head, and glance up into his ad
miring face wiih an air of witching co
Philip Vane, with this picture before
his eyes, stood for a moment like one be
wildered, then suddeuK" recollecting him
seif, he retraced his steps, and rang the bell
at tlie front entrance, in a very grave and
formal manner.
Rose received him with ash3 T , sweet
surprise that was irresistible; and the charm
of her rare beauty, and her girlish vivacity,
soon banished his jealous doubts—and he
was as much enthrailed and enraptured as
ever. The foppish individual having van
ished, Philip had his charmer all to him
self, and they wandered out into the au
tumn moonlight, and under the shadow of
the elm trees. And Philip took a pearl
and amethyst engagement ring from a little
casket, and put it upon her finger, entreat
ing, as ho did so, that the engagement
should be very brie r . Beautiful Rose lis
tened, and examined the sparkling circlet
wiih a critical eye.
"Very well," she replied, after a mo
ment, her voice cool and silvery; "I have
no objection to make. It will not require a
great while to complete my arrangements,
and mamma disapproves of long engage
ments. ''
'•So do I," exclaimed Philip, heartily.
"You will make it a month, darling—no
longer; I want you at home before the
Christmas holidays."
Rose shrugged her white shoulders, and
gave a little shivering sigh.
"How 1 do wish," she said, "that
you would live iu town, Philip, for the
winter at least. It must be dreadful stupid
at Beechwood; and the girls are coming to
see my engagement ring." she continued,
after a momentary' pause, twirling the
little circlet over in the moonlight. "I
told them it w .uld be something magnifi
cent —and it is; but Ido wish you had
chosen a diamond solitaire, it would have
been so much more elegant and stylish."
Her lover's brow clouded.
"i am sorry, dear," he said, gravely. "I
faucied this one would please you; but you
shall have the solitaire."
4 'Oh, you are so kind ! and I am naughty
to trouble you so."
She held up her ripe lips, and he kissed
her in silence, and they returned to the
cottage, and a little later he was in his sad
dle again and on his way back to Beech
wood. But an indefinable something
weighed down his spirits—a kind of rest
less dissatisfaction that he could neither
banish or comprehend.
The moment his mother met him on the
following morning, she knew how matters
stood, bhe could read her son's heart like
an open book.
"'Tis just as I feared," she sighed. "My
poor boy will be disappointed."
But she uttered not a word.
A week later, Philip Vane was called to
town on business, and he embraced that
opportunity to purchase a diamond ring.
He selected a very magnificent one, at an
extravagant cost. Then instead of return
ing to Beechwood, he took the train to
Talbot, and walked .across to the Denham
residence. It was just about noon when
he reached there; and the autumn day was
very lovely, with mellow sunlight, and a
hazy splendor on the circling hills. He
would have a long walk with Rose, he
thought, his heart swelling with delight as
he neared the house. Dear little Rose, he
loved her more and more every moment he
lived, no matter if she was rather vain and
He found the front door open, and a lit
tle housemaid scrubbing the steps. Bhe
ushered him in, and he entered the small
drawing room, and sat down. As he did
so, the sound or voices, in loud and angry
discussion, reached his ears. Ju?t behind
the dining-room was a little parlor which
Mrs. Denham and Rose were in the habit
of making their sitting room, and it was
from this the sounds proceeded.
Philip listened in alarm at first, thinking
some ope was ill, or that something had
"Now, Rose, my dear, do In; reasona
ble," entreated the tremulous voice of Mrs.
Denham. "We are willing to do all w
can for you; but you know how your
father stands. The very roof over our
heads is moitgaged already, and pray how
can wo raise money to buy such extrava
gant things?"
"I don't know* nor I don't care," cried
Hose, with angry vehemence. "Is-t papa
borrow it. 1 tell you 1 will have a splen
did outfit "
"My dear, you will have three nice silks,
and a good many other dresses; and yoir
won't need so many changes at Beech
wood," interposed the mother.
"What's the reason 1 won't?" almost
screamed Rose. "Do you think I'm going to
be shut up at Beech wood all this winter ?
I'll show you. and I'll show Philip Vane,
too, I'm going to have a gay season, if I
live; and I want the right kind of an outfit
—and I mean to have it. So there's no
use talking; you know I always have my
Then there came the sound of grieved solv
it ing and a child's voice, the voice of Rose's
littie sister, Alice, cried out, ''See, Rosie,
you have made poor mamma cry. llow
can you be so naughty ?"
"ilush, this minute, you meddlesome lit
tle thing! Who asked you to put in your
say ? 1 don't see what you're here for,
either, gaping at every word (hat's said and
pulling what few things I've got to pieces.
Come, take yourself off to the nursery at
once 1"
Philip Vane heard the sound of a sharp
blow, and the next moment little Alice ran
out, crying ready to break her heart. He
had risen to bis feet in utter amazement;
and. passiug the dining-rooiu door, the
child saw him. She stared a moment, and
then cried out, in wicked delight—
"Aha, Miss Rose! here's Mr. Vane in
the diuing-nxm), and he's heard how
naughty you've beea—haven't you, Mr.
.Not believing the child, Rose hurried to
the dining-room door, ami there she stood
transfixed. Her beautiful, golden hair was
all in a tHngle, and she wore an untidy, old
wrapper, both soiled ami torn, and her face
was flushed and distorted with passion.
Philip Vane, standing grave and stern in
the middle of the .lining-room, regarded
her for several moments in silence, mid
wiih an agony at his heart that seemed like
death itself. Then he advanced, and ex
tended lus hand.
"Good bye, Rose!" he said, sadly. "No
words that I can speak can express what I
feel, i loved you as mv own life; but lam
disenchanted. 1 aiu glad this has happen
ed now; it is better than hereafter. Yet I
don't think I can ever forgive you."
And before the terror stricken girl could
utter a single word, he was gone.
'•Oh, me! Oiime!"the wailed, wring
ing her htm !s; "it is all over! I have lost
hm! 1 have lost him!"
"Aud no wonder," replied her mother,
sternly. "God wouldn't suffer it; He's too
Over the crisp meadows, and under the
shadow of the purple hills, Philip Vane
waiked back to Beechwood, shaken like a
very reed, strong man that he was, with
the bitterness of Ins disappointment.
"Mother," he said, when she met him at
the d*orway, "it is all over! You were
"And all for the best, my son," she re
plied, as she kissed him, "though you can
not think so now."
And j'ears after, when Philip Vane sat
upon the lawn, with the true and tender
woman who had become his wife, and the
woman who had become the motner of the
children that played beneath the rustling
oak boughs, looking back at those early
days, he was forced to acknowledge that
his mother's wisdom was far superior to his
Rose Denham is still unmarried, and lias
lost all her beauty. She is soured and dis
contented, and will alfrays be so. But
whom has she to blame but herself ?
ATrrltl* Kxt>-rluce.
Adolph Ilintzky went out on the moun
tains of Eastern Pennsylvania alone to
chop wood for the charcoal-burners, and
nothing was seen of him for three days. A
hunter by the name of I lines, passing
over the mountain, tracked a rabbit undei
a large, heavy tree. To his great surprise
he found a man lying under the limbs ol
the tree in the snow. The man still lived,
ilincs dropped his gun and game and ran
off to the nearest cabin lor assistance.
Hines and another man went back aud
found the man to be Ilintzky, a prisoner
under the tree, liaJf buried in the snow.
By the light of their lanterns lie was cut
out and freed. He could not stand at first,
and was nearly dead. His cars were
frozen and his Icet were terribly frozen.
With great ililliculty he was taken to a
house, llis story was that lie was cutting
down a tree, before it fell he sat on a stone
to eat his dinner, suddenly a violent gust
of wind-blew through trorge and the
tree fell with a crash, ci fifing the unfor
tunate woodman under its heavy branches.
He was rendered senseless by the blow,
but the stone upon which he sat saved his
life. The force of tiie blow wns averted.
The man had raised himself up, and wh -u
the tree fell it pinioned him. One of liis
arms he could not move at all; his body
was held to the earth and he was a prisoner.
On the evening of his first day's imprison
ment suow fell All that night, the next
day and next night he was fastened in the
snow, and his life was slowlyebbiug away.
On the third day he was in terrible agony,
he fed himself with snow, and thus paiti
ally quenched his thirst His hoots had to
be cut from his swollen feet, his robust
constitution prevented death. He was
about 35 years of age, and he wore a coal
lined with hair.
l ire h.v friction.
A company oi bouih African savage
Zulus are now amusing the people of Lon
don, and among their performances they
show how they get a light without matches.
Some straw being laid on the ground as a
bed, two eticks were placed on it a few
inches apart to form a support for a third
stick, which, was laid across them, having
a deep notch cut ir it to receive the blunt
point of the driliing-stick. This was
twirled like a chocolate-muller between the
palms of the hands, and when the twirler's
hands reached the bottom they were either
dexierously shifted to the t< p again, or
another of the Africans squatting round
took and relieved the fitst. A spark was
obtained in the chaned dust in about five
minutes, and was received with shouts of
delight by the firemakers, one of whom
carefully shielded it in a handful of the
straw, soon fanned it into a Hume.
Oritek Fire
"Greek fire"'—or, us it is sometimes
called "Saracen fire"—was the most im
portant war material men had before the
invention of gutqiowdor. Twice the city
of Constantinople was saved by the use of
it. li is said to have been invented by a
Syrian, who, deserting from the service of
the I'aliph, revealed his secret to the em
peror. The ingredients, if not also the
mode of darting the'fire, were kept a se
cret for upwards of 400 yeais, und it is
quite uncertain now what were actually the
component parts of that which, Joinvillc
says, "came flying through the air like a
winged, long-tailed< lrkg< m, about the thick
ness of a hogshead, with the report of thun
der and the velocity of lightning; and the
darkness of the night was dispelled by this
deadly illumiuation." It is generally con
sidered, however, that "the fire" was com
posed of naplha, mingled iu certain pro
portions, now unknown, witli sulphur, und
with pitch obtained from evergreen fir.
This mixture, ignited and blown or pumped
through long tubes of copper, which were
mourned in the prows of galleys, and fanci
fully shaped inio the form of monsters,
produced a thick smoke with a loud ex
plosiou, and a tlauie, fierce and obstinate,
which no amouut of water could extin
guish. When used for the defense of walls,
it was poured in large laiilers from the
ramphrts, or was hurled on javelins by
means of tow which had previously been
steeped in iutlummablc material. Against
it the bravest soldiers went in vain; their
imagination recoiled from a thing so subtle
aud terrible. Horses lied from it in dire
fright; ships were burnt by it; there was
no way of standing against it. The Greek
emperors. Beusibie of the enormous advan
tage which an offensive weapon of such a
kind gave them, invested it with a myster
ious history, and appealed to the supersti
tion of their subjects for the preservation of
the secret ol the manufacture. They said
that un angel hud revealed the composition
ot Greek tire to the first Constantine, for
the express purpose of maintaining the su
periority of the empire over the Barba
rians; and that whoever betrayed the secret
to foreigners would incur not only the pen
alty of treason and sacrilege, but the spe
cial venge mee of the Almighty. In the
twelfth century, however we find it used
by the Mahometans in their wars with the
Christians; aud from that time it came into
pretty general use, until the invention of
gunpowder put it out of date, unit caused
an entire rcvo ution ia the art of war.
ilullml t'outniii vs. L,ove.
"What are you reauuig, Mary?" inquired
a practical man living on East Long, De
troit, of his wife one day.
"Just the sweetest love story you ever
heard of," replied his wile, euthusiasti
"A love story ?"'
"Yes. and you just ought to read it —'
"Ain't you got over that yet f" inter
rupted her husband.
"Gotover what?" .
"Why, that love business. That—that
molasses contract between young idiots."
4 'IX) you mean —"
"Yes, I mean the milk and mush stuff
children indulge in. 1 thought that would
have been taken out of you by this tiuie.
Now what's that story about?"
"1 am right here where he—"
"Who f"
"Why, the lover, of course, litis Just res
c :ed her—"
"Who in thunder is her ?"
"Oh! why don't you keep quiet, lie has
just rescued the girl lie's iu love with from
a gang of robl>ers and—''
"How many was in that gavg?"
"Let me see," said the wife thoughtfully,
"Tlime were forty-two, and he—"
"Now, do you mean to say that young
teller took a g rl trom forty-two robbers all
by himseif ?"
4 Yes, and the story says he killed thir
teen in the attempt, and—"
"Mary, hand that paper right to me.
Fork it over."
"Now," continued the husband, as be
crushed it up and put in the tail of lus coat,
"tlikt's the biggest lie I ever heard. I'm
going to take this paper outside the corpo
ration and bury it two feet deep, and then
see il I can't get an act passed by Congress
to suppress its publication. I'll be back by
supper time, and 1 want you to hump your
self around ami have some boiled potatoes
and corn-bread. That will help lake some
of this nonsense out of vou."
Sir William llemchol's First Telescope.
Sir William llerschel arrived in England
from Ilonover, his birth-place, about the
end of the year 1759, when he was in his
twenty first year. He was bred a profes
sor ot music, and went to live at Halifax,
where he acquired by his own application,
a considerable knowledge of mathematics;
and, having studied astronomy and optics
in the popular writings of Furguson, lie
was anxious to witness with his own eyes
the wonders <lf the planetary system. He
accordingly borrowed from a friend a tele
scope, tw o feet in focal length, and having
directed it to the heavens he was so de
lighted with the actual sight of phenomena,
wnieh he had previously known only from
books, that he commissioned a Iriend to
purchase for him in London, a telescope
with a high magnifying power. Fortunately
for science, the price of such an instru
ment greatly exceeded his means, and he
immediately resolved to construct a tele
scope with his own hands. After encounter
ing the difficulties which every amateur at
first experiences, in the casting, grinding
and polishing of the metalic specula for re
flecting telescopes, he completed in 1773, a
reflet ting instrument, five feet in focal
length, with which he was able to observe
the ring of Saturn and the satoellites and
belts of Jupiter. This telescope was com
pleted when he resided at Bath, where he
a 'quired by degrees and in his leisure
hours that practical knowledge of optics
and mathematics which was necessary for
such a task. His experience in this scien
tific art were of the most remarkable kind,
asd by 1781 he had constructed so many
telescopea as to be better turuished with
the meuns of surveying the heavens than
were possessed by any other astronomer,
in any of the fixed observatories of Eu
—lt is said that Gov. Andrew, ot
Connecticut, has appointed a Bratede
teetive to innkc <1 further to
solve the mvstery ot thd murder ol
Mary Stannard, for which the Rev. H.
H. Havden was tried.
CHICAGO has a lady teacher of the
flute, bhe probably does all the fluting
for her own dresses.
Cl>lne t|in,
Before the introduction of clocks and
watches in China native instruments em
ployed lor recording the flight of the hours
may practically be said to lc confined to
two in number,, the sun-dial and tbe wruter
clock, though other devices have appeared
at various times. They both have claims
to great antiquity. The water-clock is said
to iiave lieen invented in the days of the
Yellow Emperor, if not by his Majesty
himself, some twenty-six centuries before
the birth of Christ, aud tbe sun-dial is
attributes! to Chow Kung (B. C. 1100),
but such accounts may safely he relegated
to the category of the legendary. Both
these instruments have been so often do
scribed, that other and more interesting
details may he found. In the reign, for
instance, of Kublai Khan, we hear of a
"lamp water-clock" being offered as a gift
to the emperor, which contained u drum
and a bell, and struck tbe hours regularly.
It wou'd be difficult to say just what this
clock w as, but the word lamp reminds one
that candles were used to measure time by
the Chinese long before their reputed inven
tion by England's mouarch student a thou
sand years ago. The Emperor llsuan
Taung, of the T'ang dyuasty (847-860 A.
I>.) is said to have had in his possession
twelve marvelous jade counters, each with
one of the twelve horary periods marked
upon its face, and these, if thrown into
water, would rise to the surface, each at
the occurrence of the period which jt was
specially intended to represent. In the
history of the last-mentioned dynasty we
are also informed that, "in a tower in the
Fuh-hn country (variously identified witli
Constantinople, Palestine, etc.) there hangs
up a large golden weighing machine, wiih
twelve golden balls attached to the end of
the yard, representing the twelve divisions
of the day. Alongside stands tho figure
of a man*, also made of gold, and, whenever
one of the atiove periods is reached, a
golden ball drops with a clang to aunounce
the same." But the most brilliant pieceof
workmanship of all was a splendid "lamp
water-clock'* belonging to the above-men
tioned Kublai Khan. It was seventeen
feet in height; it rested upon a frame
richly ornamented with gold and pearls.
On the left was a representation of the sun;
ou the right, of the moon; while at each
end of the beam wasa dragon's head, open
mouthed. and with its glaring eyes fixed
upon the stream of water, as if, we are
told, jealously watching the regularity of
its perpetual drip. On the ceutral beam
were depicted two full leugth dragons,
playing with a pearl, and also engaged in
supervising the proper tlow of water from
the clepsydra. The lamp globe, or cage in
which the light was placed, was divided
into four latitudinal sections, on the upper
one of which were four deities, represent
ing the sun. moon and certain of the stars.
This section turned round oucc in every
day. Ou the second were a dragon, a
tiger, a phoenix and a tortoise, each iu its
proper place, and at fixed periods these
jumped alout to the sound of cymbals from
willnu. The third section was marked out
into one hundred parts or divisions of the
day, corresponding to our quarter hours,
and above these divisions were twelve dei
ties, each holding a tablet indicating one of
the twelve horary periods of the Chinese
day. There was also the figure of a man,
drawing attention with its outstretched
finger to the hours as they passed in regu
lar procession along. Ou the lower section
were a bell, a drum, a gong, and cymbals,
each with an attendant in charge, who
struck the instruments at the firs*, second,
third, and fourth quarters respectively.
The whole of the above effects were pro
duced, we were informed, oy water-power
acting on machinery concealed in a large
case near the clepsydra. The method of
striking the five night watches in Chinese
yameus at the prest nt lime is as follows:
One blow on the drum aud one on effing
(not "gong") for setting the watch; one on
the drum and two on the ch'ing for the be
ginning of the second of the five parts into
which each watch is divided; one on the
drum, and three, four and five on the cfiing
for the periods up to the beginning of the
second watch, which is announced by two
blows on the drum and one on the ch'ing,
the blows on the latter increasing up to five
as in the previous watch. Thus four blows
ou the drum aud three on the ch'iny would
tell the public that three-fifths of the fourth
watch had elapsed and that the fourth di
vision was about to begin. We may add
that the clVing may l>e described as a broad
fiat piece ot metal bent to an obtuse angfe
ol about one hundred and twenty degrees.
The Fearful Cost of War.
Official returns give the Russian losses in
killed aud wounded as about 90,000 officers
and men, but as we showed lately by a
letter of the London Times correspondent,
these figures do not nearly tell the awful
story. Over 117,000 Russian soldiers have
died in battle or in the hospitals and 98,-
000 have perished by sickness and famine,
while the Roumanians add 22,000 men to
the roster. On the Tuiktsh side it is es
timated that 90,000 have died in buttle and
50,000 in the hospitals. To make the
frightful list complete it would lie neces
sary to add tht uucoutiiel thousands of
massacred women and children. We have
seen no estimate of the waste of treasure
in this war. Russia would no 1 dare to
show how much her credit would be itn
paired by contributing her share of it. We
iiave before us, however, the figures snow
ing the cost of some of the modern wars in
which England has been engaged, which
may give some idea on the subject. Her
old French wars cost her about $5,000,000.-
000; her share of the beven Years' wat, i
£415,000,000; the revolt of the American
colonies, $490,01)0,000; the two opium
wars with China, $44,000,000; the Kaffir
war, $10,000,000, and the Abyssinian ex
pedition, $40,000,000. Rusiii's Crimean
war cost her $800,000,000. and the same
war cost Eqgland $ 1,000,000,00); Franco,
$400,000,000; Turkey, $80,000,000, and
Sardinia, $35,000,000. These figures enor
mous as they are, only represent fractions
ot the material losses entailed by these
various conflicts. To form an adequate idea
of their ruinous results we should consider
also tbe stoppage ot conimeice and produc
tion, the destruction of factories and ship
ping, and the mortality among the able
' bodied, useful aud productive members of
j society. How much Russia has suffered
; in tl e >.ite war by the latter of these causes
1 she will probably only appreciate should
1 she be called upon at the present time to
i maintain the expenses of a war with Great
I Britain.
SMOKKKS are puff'-ectly satisfied with
the appearance oi the open horse can
on our streets.
1 he Cere of Clothing.
Concerning the fashion of clothing and
the vurious lubrics of which it it made in
formation is full and frequent. Very little,
however, is Baid about the care of cloth
ing, aud the ways in which it may be pre
served for the longest time and in the l>et
possible condition. To those who change
their garments with every change of style
this is a matter of slight importance, but
to thoec who purchase a silk dress or a
broadcloth suit only once in a series of
years it is a matter of interest and value,
bilks, cashmeres, cloths of standard style
aud quality, are very little affected by the
various currents of fashion. Tney hold
their own through all the years and are
always good, always 4 'stylish," always suit
able. While new fabrics are for the hour
of their popularity high-priced, these stan
dard g->ode sell at the standard price and
know little of rise or fall in standard value.
Neglect and carelessness deteriorate cloth
ing a great deal faster than ste*adv wear
does. The housekeeper who instead of
changing her nice dress when she passes
from tbe street or the church to her kitchen,
keeps it on and takes it with her through
the various processes ol dishwashing,
sweeping and cooking will soon rob it of
all its nicety while she who wears her fine
clothes only in places where fine clothes
are suitable may keep them in good condi
tion for an indefinite time. To dress ac
cording to one s work is good taste, go d
sense and economy. Tho careful person
will take pains to preserve a new calico no
less than a new silk. We knew a young
ladv once who put on a nice new calico
which she had taken (treat pains to make,
aud wore it through the morning dew to
milk the cows. To keep her arms from
being soiled or tanned by the sun, she de
clined to turn up the sleeves, of the dress,
in two days the i iee new calico looked
like all the rest of her dresses, dowdy,
slatternly, unclean. We knew another
young lady who had six silk dresses, and
not one of them was fit to wear, though
none of theui had been made abovo a year.
They were sp< tied, draggled, tumbled,
mussed, abus -tL We knew tnotli *r young
lady who was the fortunate possessor of
one nice black alpaca dress which she wore
on all occlusions tbe season thro gh, and
always appeared faultlessly dressed, blie
had no work to do that would f<))ecially
soil her clothes. If a stray drop of any
thing that could make a spot fell upon her
dre sit was at once removed. All dust
was brushed off, a sponge dipped in am
monia water brightened faded places, and
snowy collars ami cuffs suggested daiuty
habits of cleanliness. The care of cloth
ing to be easy must le habitual. The
hardest part is in forming the habit, and
this cannot too early in life be formed.
Most children love to make mud pies and
play iu the dirt generally and give little
iieed to keeping themselves clean. This
is all well enough at times, and they
should lie indulged in their mud pies pro
vided they are dressed for the work. But
it is "poor-loiksy" in the last degree to
allow a child to play in the dirt with nice
clothes on, or to permit a young person to
dreBB inappropriately while at work. It is
vastly easier to change a good coat for a
poor one than it is to restore it to its
pristine condition a soiled Coat. It is
vast ly easier to put on a pair of overalls
than it is to sponge thoroughly a pair of
pantaloons. But the worst of it is that
those who neglect to change the coat and
to put on the overalls neglect also the
sponaing and cleansing processes, and let
dust gather ami soots remain. A clothes
brush, a wisp broom, a bottle of ammonia,
a spot ge, a bund brush, a cake of crasive
soup, a vial of alcohol, should form a part
of the furnishings of every toilet. After
a.l dust has beeu removed from clothing
spots may be taken out of black cloth with
lue hand brusu dipped in a mixture of
equal parts of ammonia, a'coholsnd water.
Thisw.llbrighunaswellastleau e. Bjuzine
is useful iu removing grease spots. Spots of
grease may be removed trom colored silks
o}' putting on them raw starch made into
a paste with water. Dust is best removed
from silk by a soft fiauuel, from velvet
with a brush made specially lor the pur
pose. If hats ami bounets when taken
trom the head are brushed and put away
in boxes and covered up, iustead of being
laid down any when* they will last fresh a
long time. Shawls and all articles that
may lie folded, should be folded when
taken from the person in their original
creases aud laid away. Cloaks should be
hung up in place, gloves pulled out length
wise, wrapped in tissue paptr and laid
away, laces smoothed out nicely and
loldcd, if requisite, so that they will come
out of the box uew aud fresh when needed
again. A strip of old black broadcloth
tour or five inches wide, rolled up tightly
and sewed to keep the roll in place, is let
ter than a sponge or a cloth for cleansing
black ami dark-colored clothes. Wlia ever
lint comes from it in rubbing is black and
does not show. When black clothes are
washed, as the 3' may often be previous to
making over, fresh eleau water should be
used, and they should be pressed on the
wrong side before being quite dry. It
washed iu water previously used for white
clothing will oe covered with lint. In
securing clothing against moths, if linen is
used for wrappings no moth will molest.
Paper hags are equally good if they are
peifectly tight, and so are trunks and
boxes closed so tightly that no crevice is
left open lor the entrance of the moth fiy.
As the moth loves darkness, it will not
molest eveu furs hung up iu light rooms
open to air and
•'Corduroy Jim.**
Some time in tbe year 1855 a number of
adventurous spirits from California, con
ceived the idea of going into the heart of
Mexico to seek their fortunes. They form
ed a colony composed partially of miners,
but pricipully of reckless, careless men,
ready to retrieve their shattered fortunes in
any way. The colony, known to history
as the La Paz, was fitted out and started
from San Francisco the same year. Upon
arriving there they were not received by
the Mexican government with that hearti
ness and cordiality now extended to im
migrants seeking that promibing land.
They were looked upon as filibusters, ar
rested, imprisoned, sometimes decorated
wiih balls and chains and generally treated
as prisoners of war. Failing to find on
Mexican soil the El Dorado of their hopes
they planned an escape and returned on the
John L. Stephens, on July second or third,
in time to celebrate the national holiday.
They told their story of their woes to their
friends as only forty-nineis could. Much
"Interest was excited and an effort made to
secure the national intervention in their be
half. Bo confident were they of success
that moot of them execute*} powers of at
torney to certain parties who gathered the
claims together for the purpose of making
a united effort to secure relief, the agree
ment being that the attorneys should divide
the receipts equally with the claimants.
Nothing was practically accomplished un
til about the year 1870, when a mixed
Commission of the United States was ap
pointed to adjudicate, ainoug other inter
national matters, upon the differences ex
iting between the United States and Mexi
can Governments, both feeling themselves
aggrieved and entitled to redress. The re
sult of their deliberations was that an award
of $23,000,000 was made to the United
States and $19,000,000 to Mexico After
this there was considerable difference of
opinion as to how the award was to be
paid, but it was Anally settled by the Mex
ican Government paying the difference be
tween the two awards in instalments,
which it has been doing for some years.
During all the time while the representa
tives of the national powers of the earth
were gravely discussing international law,
one of the enterprisiug colonists, James
Ballin'.ine, then familiarly known as 4'Cor
duroy Jim," was keeping toll gate at Colfax
Springs, on the \ oeemite road. He went
into Tuolumne County, in 1858, and, tired
of his adventurous life, married and settled
down into a first-class family man. There,
in peace and quiet, far from his old haunts
and associates, he devoted himself to the
constant pursuit of honest toiL But he
had kept up with the times, had read the
papers, and also intervi wed Sunset Cox,
Seymour of New York, and ether Con
gressional lights, who informed hitn he had
a good claim, but that no one could collect
it without his signature, lie had executed
his power of attorney, but receiving no re
turns, persuaded a legal friend to write to
Washington on the subject. Iy due time
he received the startling announcement
that he was dead, positively and legally
dead in the eyes of the Government; that
one Col. Jonathan D. Stevenson, of San
Francisco had been appointed his executor,
that $5,008 had been awarded him as hiq
share, but as he was not living and there
fore had no use for it, $1,085 had been al
ready paid on account of the estate.
\\ bat bothered the honest toll man was
that he was so much diad that it was im
possible for him to resuscnate himself.
Taking a general irventory of himself, be
remembered be had been a square striker
in bis youth, and 44 up to dale the old man
was a pretty lively corpse;" aud, with Are
in his eyes and determination in his heart,
lie came to the city for the purpose of in
terviewing the man for whom he died, and
who was now living for him t y the extent
of the coin value of bis claim. He soon
lound a number of well-preserved '49ers,
who recognized him and could swear to his
identity. Armed with proofs of his exist
ence aud accompani-d by his lawyers, he
sought the presence of his executor only to
And that he was dead again; dead up in
the Probate Court, when a process of resur
rection was necessary to make anything
living to him. The Record of this Court
informed him under dale of Oct, 22, 1876,
that he had t4 uied in the winter of 1862. or
in the spring of 1863, to the best of the
petitioner's knowledge and belief, on the
North PaciAc coast oa a trading voyage."
At this view of things his spirit took umb
rage. He failed to set bow a live man
could be so much dead, and he said to his
executor through his lawyer that he was
"the true lost Injun."
4 T think," said the executor, "that the
Mr. J. Ballintine, who owns the claim was
taller than you are."
44 We11," replied Jim, 44 1 may have set
tled an inch or two. Growed down like a
cow's tail some, but I'm your Injun all the
"What State are you from?" csntinued
CoL Stevenson.
"New York."
"This man was from Pennsylvania, 1
44 As to that," answered Mr. Ballitine,
one of us two is mistaken. Colonel."
4 Then," added the executor, 44 you don't
spell your names alike."
44 Now, look here, Colonel," concluded
Mr. Ballintine, 4i when you come to that
I've got ye. 1 spell tiiiue with two i'a, just
like 1 write it now (suiting the action to
llie word), and if I don't disremember, I
dotted 'em both, just like I did, Colonel,
when 1 witnessed them power 'o attorneys
when I was 'tendin' bar down to G<orge
and Billy Gardener's at the comer of Jack
son and Davis streets, where you made
most of 'em out."
The executor asked for further lime and
Mr. Ballintine retired, expressingly indig
nant and wishing to take the matter into
his own hands and convince the Govern
ment and bis executor that there was a lit
tle of the vital spark left in his muscle at
least. The counsels of peace, however,
prevailed, and several interviews have beeu
had. The matter was left to a distinguished
ex-Judge. 4 *We want this thing settled."
said he to the executor; "you people can
have no doubt as to my client's idenity."
Judge. What do you want?
Mr. Ballintine I want my equal half,
according to the papers.
Judge. But you are not anywhere on
the papers. You're not alive on the pa
Mr. Ballintine. Now, that's pretty
rough on a corpse. It don't make any dif
ference what i am cu paper. I'm here
alive, and 1 want to be a.ive on paper and
every where, and then get my half, aud
that's all there is about it. I want to get
through with this and get back home,
where I have some dead business to da
Here the interview closed. Subsequently
the Judge made an offer to effect a com
promise, which, being below the figures
demanded, was not accepted. And so the
matter remains at present.
He who loses hope may then part
with anything.
Sin is sturdy, aud will rebel, where
it cannot reigu.
God's words, however slighted, are
not wind, but lire.
The Curistlan lile is not knowing nor
hearing, but doing.
Benefit your Iriends, that they may
become your t'rieiids.
The error of a moment becomes tho
sorrow ot a whole life.
Tiieir tongues and their tears are
women's best weapons.
Love, faith, patience—the throe es
sentials to a happy lite.
Love is lowliness; oil the wedding
ring spaikles uo jewel.
God's auger is holy. His fire
pure and without smoke*
NO. 30.