VOL. LI V.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF
BELLEFONTE-
O. T. Alexander. C. M. bower.
& BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office in a&rtnan's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
OLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTK, PA.
Northwest comer of Dt&mond.
YOCUM A HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLKPONTE, PA.
High street, opposite First National Bank.
w M. C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTK, PA.
Practices in all the oourts of Centre county.
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
in German or English.
w lI.BUR F. REEDER,
( ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTK, PA.
All business promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
JgEAVEK A GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
w. A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Offlce on WoodrLnr's Block, Opposite Court
Hom>e.
J~J S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Consultations In English or German. Office
in Lyon\> Building, Allegheny Street.
JOHN G. LOVE,
' ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Offlce In the rooms formerly occupied by the
late W. P. Wilson.
BUSINESS CARDS OF MILLHEIM, & *
A. STURGIS,
* DEALER IN
Watches, Clocks. Jewelry, Silverware, Ac. Re
pairing neatly and promptly don • and war
ranted. Main Street, opp slte Bank, M lllielm,
Fa. . ,
X O DEININGER,
* NOTARY PVBUV.
SCRIBNER AND CONVEYANCER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
AU business entrusted to him. suoh as writing
and acknowledging Deeds, Morlgages, Releas* s,
Ac., will be executed wlih neatness and dis
patch. Office on Main Street.
TT H. TOMLINSON,
DEALER IX
ALL KINDS OF
Groceries. Notions, Drugs. Tobac< os, Cigars,
Fine confectloneiles and everything in the line
of a first-class Grocery st .re.
Country Produce laken In exchange for goods.
Main St eet, opposite Bank, Ml lhelm. Pa.
pvAVID I. BROWN,
MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN
TINWARE, STOVEPIPES, Are.,
SPOUTIMG A SPECIALTY.
Shop on Main Street, two houses east of Bank,
MUlhelm, Penna.
T EISENHUTH,
* JUSTICE OP THE PEACE,
MILLHEIM, PA.
All business promptly attended to.
coUectlon of claims a specialty.
Office opposite Elsenhuth's Drug Store.
Ayf USSER A SMITH,
DEALERS IN
Hardware. Stoves, Oils, Paints, Glass, Wall
Paper , coach Trimmings, and Saddlery Ware,
AC,. Ac.
All grades of Paient Wheels.
Corner of Main and Penn Street*, Mlllhelm,
Penna.
JACOB WOLF,
FASHIONABLE TAILOR,
MILLHEIM, PA.
Cutting a Specialty.
shop next, door to Journal Book Store.
jyjILLHEIM BANKING CO.,
MAIN STREET,
MILLHEIM, PA.
A. WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPE, Pres.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
REBERSBURG, PA.
Satisfaction Guaranteed.
ile 3UiUlicitn Sour mil
VIGIL.
8l?ep, little flow'ret ! witli fragrant floWera
sleeping,
Bt-reue ou earth's breast.
Cl'We, weary eyehde ! with folded leaves
olcs ug—
Symbol their languorous bliss while repoeiug,
O rest wit i these, rest !
While tlie night dews are weeping.
Sm.le, little augel! with still waters sunhug,
Beneath the white inoou.
Dream, little s >ul ! with their rapturous
dreaming -
Image the r heaven-bosomed beauty and
seeming—
O wake not too soon !
'lo the daylight dtileiug.
Midnight Footsteps.
In an ancient Northumberland mansion
two ladies sat within easy distance of the
tin', the length and depth and fierceness of
which would have astonished a London
householder. The elder lady—and she was
very old, but as brisk as a bee—sal at a
large waiting table, and turned over numer
ous papers by the light of the wax can
dles that stood near in heavy silver candle
sticks. The younger lady, and she was
closely approaching fifiy, was busily en
gaged with a long roll of flannel, from
which she was cutting petticoats for the
poor. Aiiy winter's evening for two years
past the widowed Mrs. Crosby and Miss
Dorothy Grimble, her niece, might have
been found similarly employed, the aunt
ruling her large estate witli a firm hand
from that writing table, ami the maiden
niece organizing the feminine charities of
the house.
"Scandalous! That fellow Smith in
trouble again, and can't pay his reut. Soon
see about that idle rascal I" muttered Mrs.
Crosby.
"Only a fortnight till a club day; won
der if these petticoats will be ready for the
women," murmured Miss Dorothy, anx
iously.
"Send them up to the school-house; they
can be made there.''
"They are making new surplices for the
choir; can't do both."
"Bah! Surplices, indeed 1 Petticoats
are much more use ; and I'm sure that poor
miserable rector is as much at the mercy
of those women as if he wore a petticoat
himself!"
"Well, Aunt Crosby,' remonstrated Miss
Dorothy, "you can't expect a man to know
all that a woman generally looks after."
"He ought to, if he liasn't got a woman
to help liim. How do I know all about
what a man generally looks aftt.!"
At this moment the door was thrown
open, and the old butler announced the rec
tor of the parish.
Mr. Preedy was a very quiet, mild-look
ing man, upward of fifty. He entered
nervously ; for he was always uncertain,
until he bad been greeted, whether his pow
erful parishoner. Mrs. Crosby, intended to
snap at him or pat him on the back (meta
phorically). He now received her gracious
shake of the liand witli a sense of pure
gratification.
"Don't let me disturb you ; was just
passing—ahem, all!"
And then the sentences died away 111 au
almost inaudible whisper of a self-evident
fact, namely, that he had "looked in."
"Quite right, sit down; I'm busy, but
Dolly will talk to you."
Very uneasily he approached "Dolly,"
and seated himself on one side of the large
workbasket, his hands meekly fQlded on his
knees, and his eyet resting in fond admira
tion on the heaps of flannel.
"Always busy, always useful," he mur
mured.
Miss Dorothy's maiden hand tw itched;
and she cut the flannel in a wrong place.
"Excuse me," she said, rising in some
confusion. "I forgot to leave out some
medicine for Mrs. Brown. 1 will return
immediately."
The door had just closed when the rector
murmured audibly:
"Admirable woman! Invaluable!"
"All?" said Aunt Crosby, sharply turn
ing round, and the light from the fire made
her spectacles gleam as she sat with raised
pen, "did you speak?"
"No—l, ah—merely was thinking—ah
—what a loss Miss Dorothy would be to you
—lf—ah, she was to—leave you!"
'•Bless me!" responded Aunt Crosby, in
a tone of slight contempt* "no need to
trouble about that till she talks of going. "
"No, no; very true, madam. Vou have
such an amusing way of putting things!"
and he ventured on a little nervous laugh,
from which he sobered down supernatural
ly next minute. "Perhaps—ah—she might 1
marry ?"
"What is the idiot driving at?" said Mrs.
Crosby to herself, irate at so many interrup
tions. "Marry, did you say?" she inquired
aloud. "Well, about flve-and-twenty years
ago Dolly was a well-looking young woman.
Still, she might marry now, and so might
I, for the matter of that, if any one asked
me! Take a look at the paper, Mr. Preedy;
they'll bring in the tray directly ;* and the
pen scratched on again.
"What a cruel woman!" said the rector
to himself. "She won't let me speak! I'll
try her again, though, see if I don't."
And having manfully turned the paper
inside out, he gave a preparatory cough.
"Mrs. Crosby, I have long wished —"
"Why can't he keep still?" muttered the
old lady to herself.
"I say, I have loDg wished," —and he
had attained the fixed high key in which lie
usually intoned the service, and the sound
of his own voice thus pitched gave him
courage—"to express the admiration I feel
for your niece."
"Well, she's an excellent creature, Mr.
Preedy," agreed Aunt Crosby; and in des
pair at his pertinacity, she put down her
pen, tightened her pinched glasses on her
nose, and turned her keen face full round
to await the further remarks of her visitor.
"What a wife she would make, Mrs.
Crosby 1" cried the cheered rector, enthu
siastically.
A glimmering of the truth lit up the old
lady's mind, and sh'e replied:
"You should be a better judge of that
than me, Mr. Preedy; did you want to
marry her ?"
"Oh, Mrs. Crosby, you are too good!
May I hope ?"
With aH odd smile on her puckered old
face, Aunt Crosby said:
"Hadn't you better ask her ! I'll go out
as she comes in."
And, suiting the action to the word, the
mistress of the mansion left the room as her
niece entered.
i That night about half-past twelve, two
MILLHEIM, PA.. THURSDAY, AUGUST 1-2, 1880.
hours after every one liail retired, Mrs.
Crosby heard a footstep on the gravel walk
tielow the window. She got up at once,
lit her candle, and throwing on a warm hut
faded dressing-gown, she marched along
the passage and down to the room where
reqiosed the butler and the plate-chest.
The sound of the old man's snoring
showed he was undisturbed. His mistress
rapped sharply.
"Get up, Barnes; there's a man walking
under my window!"
Quickly old Barnes ol>oyed, and then he
called a young footman to assist him and
the two armed themselves with pokers
and alsliod forth from the bay-window of
j the dinuiug-room, while Mrs. Crosby, can
dle in hand, stood just within it.
After prowling alsmt for a few minutes,
the men were about to come in, when the
i younger of the two spied a shadow close up
to the gray wall of the house. He sprang
forward, shouting:
"I've got him!"
And Mrs. Crosby, in a voice worthy of
Mrs. Siddona, cried from the window :
"Bring him here'"
Then the butler lending his assistance, a
struggling, exjxistulatiug man was dragged
into the presence of the owner of the mau
sion. Turning to vent her wrath upon
him, she exclaimed in amazement, and
Barnes cried in the same breath:
"It's Mr. Preedy 1"
"Let me explain—Mrs. Crosby—l en
treat you!" gas|>ed the rector. "Oh, send
away the servants!"
"E'ave biu h'after something then!"
( said the young man, confidentially, as he
appeared to retire, but really lingered by
the door to listen.
"Speak, sir!" commanded Aunt Cros
|by.
"\Vell, then," whispered the rector, in
au agitated voice, "she has promised to lie
mine—and—l meant no liaam, indeed,
kind Mrs. Crosby; but I just walked back
to look at the light in her window!"
There was an ominous silence, and then
came a crackle of laughter like the sound
of holly leaves burning, and Aunt Crosby
chuckled out:
•'Go home, Mr. Preedy; go home and go
to bed! We old folks should think of our
rheumatism before we perform as Romeos
and Juliets. Good night to you. I'll bolt
the window now, if you don't mind."
"Look at that now," cried the young
footman, delighted.
"Shame on you for listening, James!"
replied Barues, adding with a growl,
"Waking us all up to look at Miss Dor
othy's winder. Well, I'm blessed if there
is a fool like an old fool!"
Fool Friends-
Nothing hurts a man, nothing hurts a
party, so terribly as fool friends
A fool friend is the sower of bad news,
of slander, and all base and unpleasant
tilings.
A fool friend always knows every mean
thing that has been said against you and
against the party.
He always know where your party
is losing, and the other is making large
gains.
He always tell you of the good luck your
enemy lias had.
He implicitly belivcs every story against
you, and kindly suspects your defence.
A fool friend is always full of a kind of
stupid candor.
He is so candid that he always believes
the statement of an enemy.
He never suspects anything on your
side.
Nothing pleases him like being shocked
by horrible news oonceming some good
m&u.
He never denies a lie unless it is in your
favor.
He is always finding fault with his
party and is continually begging pardon
for not belonging to the other side.
He is frightfully anxious that all can
didates should stand well with the opposi
tion.
He is forever seeing thejfaults of his
party and the virtues of the other.
He generally shows his candor by
scratching his ticket.
He always searches every nook and cor
ner of his conscience to find a reason for
deserting a friend or a principle.
In the moment of victory he is magna
nimously on the other side. In defeat he
consoles you by repeating prophecies made
after the event.
The fooi friend regards your reputation
as common property, aud as common
prey for all the vultures, hyenas and
jackals.
He takes a sad pleasure in your misfor
tunes.
He forgets his principles to gratify your
eneniie*
He forgives your mahgncr and slanderer
with all his heart.
He is so friendly that you cannot kick
him.
He generally talks for you, but always
bets the otber way.
How the Early Virginians got Wives.
The history of the Commonwealth of
Virginia, commenced with an auction sale
—not, however, in a store, but beneath the
green trees of Jamestown, where, probably,
the most anxious and interested crowd of
auction habitues ever known in the history
of the world were gathered. In a letter,
still to be seen, dated.Xondon, August 21,
1621, and directed to a worthy colonist of
that settlement, the writer begins by saying:
"We send you a shipment, one widow
and eleven maids, for wires of the people
of Virginia. There has been especial care
in the choice of them, for there hath not
one of them been received but upon good
recommendations. In case they cannot be
presently married we desire that they may
be put with several householders that have
wives, until they can be provided with hus
bands. "
But the writer of this epistle had little
reason to fear that any of the "maidens
fair" would be left over. The arch ves
contain evidence to prove that these first
cargoes of young ladies were put up at auc
tion aud sold for one hundred and twenty
pounds of tobacco each, and it was ordered
that this debt should have precedence over
all others. The solitary "one widow" went
along with the others, for they could not
be particular in those days. The good
minister of the colony no doubt had a busy
time that day. He did not mention any
fees, nor did the bridegrooms think of ten
dering any. All was joy and gladness ;no
storms ahead, no inquisitive clerk to stand
and say; "Here's the license, fork over
that one dollar!" Nothing of the sort.
From some of these couples tlie fir t fami
lies of Virginia are descended.
Hiring Koomi tu Parin.
In the province* of France you hire a
*ot of rooms or a house by the year. The
Parisians, less constant, hire by the quar
ter The reader will remeuilisr that de
tached houses, aud houses eutirely occu
pied by one tenant or by one family, are
the exception in Paris, The houses are
almost invariably strongly built, compact
atom* blocks, five, six, or seven stories
high: and each floor will generally contain
two, three, four, or more separate dwel
lings or apartments, each with its minia
ture saile a manger, salon, liedroom, kitcli
i en ami offices, varying of course according
to the rent paid, aud the quarter of the
town in which it is situAterf, Some of the
apartments give ou the court-yard, and
are not so gay or expensive as those which
give on the street; some of which, aad al
most certainly the oue ou the fifth floor,
will have a fine balcony. The fact of an
apaitment being tolerably high up is not
considered a drawback in Paris Jules 81-
mons lives on the fifth floor ou the Place
de Madeline, and Louis Blauc long lived au
cinquieme in the Hue Royale, before he
migrated to the same elevation in the Hue
de Kivoli. Y'ou may get more air higher
up, and you have the ail vantage of a fine
terrace-balcony, large enough in many
eases to hold tlie dinner table. . In a di
trictof Paris like the Quarlier Saint-George
which is situated on the slope* leading up
to Mqgtm&rtre, anywhere between the Kue
Notre Dame de Loretteaud Hue de Moscou,
you will get an appartment on the fifth
floor witli a balcouy for an annusl rent of
from seven hundred to one thousand
francs. It will consist of a tiny kitchen, a
salon, a dining room with a stove in it,
one or two sleeping rooms; a closet or two,
and offices. The rooms will be small and
the ceilings rather low, The first floor of
such a house, coutaiuing say, dining and
drawings rooms, ante-chambers, and four
or five sleeping rooms with two or three
servants' rooms up in the attics, would
fetch as much as two. three, and even four
thousand francs in a year. The fittings of
the rooms will not be handsome. In France
the dining rooms of the great hotels have a
speciality of profuse ornamentation, and
the foreigner thinks that the French arc
equally luxurious in their houses. This is
not so. The ordinary apartment is fur
nished in a comparatively mean way. The
of tlie door handles and latches,
to say nothing of their iuconveniene, will
strike the English or American visitor.
The French locksmiths are more than
half a century behind the times. The
fireplaces are constructed with a view of
allowing the heat to escape up the chimney
as much as possible, The folding doors,
the casement windows, and the polished
parquet floorings would give a handsome
appearance to the rooms if they were oniy
lofty, but then again the proprietor, if it be
he who does the repairs, will spoil tlie
whole effect by a cheap and paltry wall
paper. The way you take au apartment
or dwelling in Paris Is this: You choose
the quarter of the town you would wish
to inhabit, and you begin to hunt. Most
people hunt for'themselves, though there
exist agencies for that purpose. As you
pass along the street you will see little
placards sticking out at rigid angles to
the wall, by the side of the porte cocherefor
entrance of the houses where there is any
thing to let, The placard or ccrileau will
say, "Petit" or "Grand apartment a loner
presentment, s'addresser.,, Ido not ever
remember to have sen a placard which
told you were you w h -re requiisJ to address
yourself. As a matter of fact you address
yourself to the porter, or the concierge, or
theportei's wife. Very often the placard will
add that the apartment is orne de giaces;
but as a rule that is matter of course, it
being the rule for the looking glasses in
tlie various rooms to be fixtures belonging
to the proprietor, A bachel or's apart
ment, which may mean anything from a
couple of rooms to a large suite, is adver
tised as an apartement de garcon: the
meaning of such a placard is that ladie.F
need not apply. Small apartments are of
ten described as logmeuts, particularly in
the populous quarters.
Alive !u her Grave.
The papers of ranklintown, North Caro
lina, report a remarkable case of suspended
animation, burial and resurrection in the
person of a married lady in that place, who
possessed a gold watch and finger rings,
which she often expressed a desire to have
buried with her whenever she should die.
Finally she was taken ill and her life seemed
to gradually ebb away until her attending
physician pronounced it extinct. At her
burial her previously expressed desire was
complied with, and the second night after
the interment a white man and a negro
went to the grave and exhumed her for the
purpose of of obtaining the buried jewelry.
As they took the lid off the coffin and the
negro began pulling the ring off her finger,
she raised up. At this both men took fiTght
and ran away. Finally the negro went
back and she asked him what he wauted.
He told her he wanted her rings aud the
white man lier watch. She requested to
see the white man, whom the other soon
found and brought to her. Sbe re quested him
to go home with her. lie did so, and when
she reached the door she knocked. Her
husband opened the door, but fainted when
he saw her, thinking it was his dead wife's
ghost. The lady is now living, and bids
fair to attain a good old age.
A Cuban Milkman.
Few matters strike the observant stranger
with a stronger sense of their peculiarity
than the Cuban milkman's mode of supply
ing that necessary aliment to his town or
city customers. Driving his sober kine from
door to door, he deliberately milks just the
quantity required by each customer, de
livers it, and drives on to the next. The
patient animal becomes as conversant with
tlie residences of her master's customers as
he is himself, and stops, unbidden, at regu
lar intervals, before the proper houses, often
followed by a pretty little calf, which
amuses iteelf by gazing at the process,
while it wears a leather muzzle to prevent
its interference with the supply of milk in
tended for another quarter. There are,
doubtless, two good reasons for this mode
of delivering milk in Havana large
towns in Cuba. First, th< re oan be 10 di
luting of the article ; and secuuu, it is sure
to be sweet and fresh, ties latter a particu
lar desideratum in a (lunate where milk
without ice can be kept only a brief period
without spoiling. Of course, the effect
upon the animal is by no meaus salutary,
and a Cuban cow gives about one-third as
much milk as oue in America. Goats are
driven about aud milked IU the same man
ner.
The Howl at Bebee'a Corner.
A few days ago a blunt spoken, hearty
looking first citizen of Bebee's Corners
made ins appearance on Griswold street,
Detroit, to look out some lawyer who
would deliver the 4th of July oration at the
Corners. He was on business and no fooling.
He liad been deputized by his fellow citi
zens to make all oratorical arrangements,
and he had decided ideas as to the sort of
address wanted. He was put in communi
cation with a young attorney who had an
address of four hundred pages of foolscap
all written out for such an occasion. Af
ter a few preliminary remarks the delegate
began:
"Does your addres • refer to the struggles
of our forefathers ?"
"Oh, yes; 1 have seventeen distinct re
ferences to their perils, struggles, and
triumphs."
"Knock 'em right out then—cross out
every one of them! Every fool in the
country knows that our forefathers had to
struggle. Of course they did, it was their
business to; they have luui all the praise
due 'em, and Be bee's Corners won't give
'em another word."
"Well, 1 suppose I can leave out our
forefathers," humbly replied the orator.
"Very well. Now, what have you in
your address in regard to Gen. Washing
ton ?"
"Well, I probably mention him forty or
fifty times. Washington was a great man,
aud we must not forget him."
"Strike him right out!" was the fiat
command. "Washington was a great and
good man. Bebee's Corners is as loyal as
any town in America, but we've had Wash
ington till we can't rest."
The orator made a note of that also, and
the other continued:
"1 presume you have put in a boom for
the Declaration of Independence?"
"Yes, I uever heard of a 4ih of July
orator with that left out."
"Then you are going to learn something
new. Bebee's Corners would howl all day
over the sight of an American flag if there
was any call for it, but we're going to take
a new departure. No Declaration of lu
dependence in our oration this year.
Scratch 'er right out."
"That doesn't leave me five minutes'
talk,'' said the attorney, as he made a cal
culation. "All 1 have left are a few re
marks on the Pilgrim Fathers."
"Then knock tlie Pilgrim Fathers higher
than a kite before you forget it. We've
been Pilgrim Fathered to death in this
country.''
"What kind of an oration do you want
up there ?" asked the lawyer, as his heart
began to sink.
'That's what I'll tell you. Can you sing?'
"No."
"Then you are out in the cold. We
want an oration lasting just ten minutes.
We want a sentimental song to lead off,
aud a funny one to end with. The re
marks between the songs can range all the
way from 'Daniel in the Lion's Den' So
'Pop Goes the Weasel,' but they must be
funny. We are a laughing set up there.
We go in heavy on couuuaiuuu, auu nt
make some of the best puns going. We
shall want, say, ten puns, ten conundrums,
two songs, and something to warrant about
five grins, and from seveu to ten regular
old side splitters, and the terms will be
slscash on the nail. Are you the man?"
"I—l guess not," was the faint repiy.
"All right—'nuff said. I'll move on to
the next, and if 1 can't stnke the chap in
this town I'll saii down to Toledo. Bebee's
Corners is going to get up and howl this
year, and don't you forgit it.
Americanizing Lundon.
Tlie opening of the new hotel in Trafal
gar square marks one stage in what is called
Ameucaniz&tion in Ix>ndon. Our cousins
tell us that we have not succeeded in de
veloping the genuine article; bnt we have
certainly made a good many steps in that
direction. Whether the change is or is
not au improvement maybe settled by those
wise persons who have made up their minds
as to the true significance of modern pro
gress. It is curious ts remark that the al
teration in the character of English inns
was almost the sole case in which even
Mac&uley could not preserve his entire com
placency when comparing our own time
with that of our ancestors. He tries to
reconcile himself to the admission of our
relative inferiority by the doubtful con
sideration that good inns mean bad roads.
"It is evident," he says, "that, all other
circumstances being supposed equal, inns
will be best where the means of locomotion
are worst."* In the seventeenth century a
traveler required twelve or thirteen meals
and five or six nights' lodgings between
York and London. Now he finishes his
journey between breakfast and dinner, and
meals are taken (if the word 'meal' be not
dishonored by applying it to such miscel
laneous feeding) during the wretched ten
minutes for refreshment. The argument
will hardly bear investigation as it is stated
—"other circumstances" will certainly not
be equal when locomotion becomes easier.
Improved means of traveling implies an in
creased number of travelers; it means in
this particular case that whole clas-es which
used to be sedentary have become mov
able, and that those who move? move ten
times as as often as before. If neople make
fewer stoppages between London and Y'ork,
there can be no doubt that the number of
people in want of a lodging # somewhere lias
increased at a much greater rate than the
total population. If the old road-side inn
is deserted, the inns in the great centres
have done much more than simply absorb
the custom of their predecessors—they have
tupped new sources of demaud.
A Good Grind atone.
It should be strong, simple, and clean ;
the trough expanded to catch as much as
jKissible of the drip water and grit; a
movable shield, securely hinged, to keep
the water from splashing, and yet permit
the stone to be used front either side; rests
provided, upon which to rest tools and the
rod for tracing the stone, these rests being
arranged to move towards the centre as the
stone wears smaller. The bearings should
be generous in size, proper provision being
made for oiling without washing the grit
into the bearings with the oil, and the ends
of the bearings being protected by some de
vice which effectually prevents the entrance
of the grit. The stone should be secured to
the shaft by nuts and washers, and the
washers fixed so that they cannot turn with
the nuts as they are screwed up or un
screwed. In hanging the stone, great care
should be taken to hang it true sidewise
not only for convenience in using, but be
| cause a stone that is not true sidewise can
never be kept true edgewise.
jk Checkered Race
"Perhaps, after all, the most successful
game oue can play the world over is
•bluff,"' said old Judge Van Snyder, the
other day, as he look I'd up from reading
the arrangement for the coming yacht
races.
"Don't catch the idea," said his old
crony, Diffenderfer, waking up from an
after-dinner nap.
"I was thinking," said the Judge, retro
speciively, "of a famous yacht race 1 at
tended in New York liarbor a long time
ago. It was between an English schooner
named the Bylph, I think, and the famous
America. There was a large party of us
young bloods alxmrd the Judges' steamer,
and the betting ran very high. Of course
all we New Yorkers wanted to back the
America.
"And didn't you?" yawned old Diffen
derfer, settling for another forty winks.
"I'm coming to that. No; I just said,
we were all anxious to bet on the home
boat, and we'd done so if it hadn't been for
the action of a loud-voiced but shabby
looking sport, who went around sneering
at the Yankee schooner and claiming a sure
victory for the Sylph."
"Couldn't the police stop it ?" growled
Diffenderfer, opening one eye to take aim
at a fly on his nose.
"Stop w liat ? Why don't you pay atten
tion to w hat lam saying ? Well, this fel
low kept annoying everybody by his insin
uations and vociferations until at last I
pulled out a handful of gold and said to
him, 'My friend, you seem to do a good
deal of talking on small capital. If you are
so sure you're right, back your opin
ion.' And every body around chimed in,
"Y'es, young man, put up or shut up.' "
"Ha! 11a!" said old D., vaguely. "Dev
ilish good story that!"
"Don't be a fool, Diffenderfer," said his
chum, testily. "If vou haven't the decency I
I to-"
'Go on, my dear old boy," said Diffen
derfer, sitting up with great resignation, i
"I hear every word you say."
"Oh, you do, eh? Where was I ? well,
this fellow kind of sneaked off at that, but,
just as we were offering tlie odds on the i
America, he came shouldering his way
through the crowd, holding in hisliand a
big bag thai seemed fairly bursting witli
twenties. 'Where is he ?" he shouted.
'Where is that young flat who wanted to
bet with me ? Come, now —l'll go you one !
thousand to one hundred the Sylph wins!' I
and he shook the bag in my face."
"Did, eh ?" said Diffendenfer, drow-1
ailv.
"Yes, sir, he did. We'l, I was so much
taken aback that I hesitated. *Oh, you're
backing down, are you ?' said the leliow
with a grin. 'Well, I'll tell you what I'll !
do, Mr. Know-it-all, I'll just bet you a cool j
thousand to fifty that the America losses.'
1 was so astonished at the man giving such !
tremendous odds, and with the coin <
right in sight, too, that I saw at once he
had a sure thing, so 1 refused to bet: 'Put i
up or shut up,' said the man wi h the bag.
I'll make it two thousand.'"
"Y'ou took him up then?" l)itTn..
derfer, shading ills eye rriih hi* hand.
"No, of course I di n't, I saw that—we
all saw—thai something was up. So 1 just j
hacked square down, and went quietly I
around hedging and laying any odds they j
wanted on the Sylph. Most of the swells
did the same, and were surprised and de- j
lighted to find that there was a crowd of .
hard-looking customers on board who took
our bets, though we had to give the biggest
kind of odds genera 1 ly."
"Well—and then t"
"The upshot of the whole matter was
that the America won by fiva miles, and ;
every decent-looking man on the boat was j
cleared out down to a car ticket. The
roughs had won all the money. As our
party landed at the wharf, and all
looking very savage at our stupidity, the
'bluffer' alluded to winked at the crOwd
and tossed his bag overboard. To our
amazement it filiated lightly off. 'What
did you have in that big bag ?' I asked.
|Oh, nothing in the world' replied the
'capper,' as he skipped over the rail. *but a
box of checkers I bought from the steward.'
Now, what do you think of that ?"
But DiffenderM- was snoring like a cof
fee mill, so the Judge drank the sherry out
of revenge and snoozed off himself. •
The Muzhy Crane.
There was a good deal of excitement up
around Spring Mill lately over the Buzby
Patent Crane and Derrick. The machine
was invented by Buzby for the purpose of
unloading canal boats, and he claimed for it
that with a man and a mule, and boy to
drive the mule, he could take a load out of
a boat and whizz it ashore in almost less
than no time.
When Buzby hat! set up the machine he
asked us all down to see how it worked.
Hitched to the single tree of the pole was a
very large and fat mouse colored mule,
which seemed to be asleep. The duty de
volving upon that mule was to march
around a circle pulling the pole after him.
When ever} thing was ready Buzby
ordered the boy to stait the mule. The
mule appeared still lingering in the land of
dreams. The boy hit the mule with a
stick, and the man on the boat emitted
some horrible epithets descriptive of the
mule's fearful peculiarities. Result: con
tinued quiescence on tlie part of the animal.
Then Buzby rushed up and bombarded the
ribs of the mule with a couple of bricks,
wh'le the man on the boat, having recover
ed his wind, breathed forth a dozen or two
assorted adjectives of a peculiarly offensive
nature. But the mule was either thinking
of the events of its past life or meditating
deeply on the uncertainties, of the future,
for he remained perfectly calm.
Then the man on the boat, beside him
self with rage, secured a pitchfork, and
leaping ashore with- venomous criticisms on
the eccentricities of mules streaming from
his mouth, prodded the animal fiercely with
the prongs. This seemed to attract the
mule's attention, for he laid back his cars
and kicked the man eight feet away plump
into the river. When the man emerged,
dripping, he referred to the mule's conduct
in some observations which were not more
distinguished for their intense energy than
for tlieir picturesque variety of metaphor.
When he vas pacified, and persuaded
from murdering the mule, Buzby sent up
to the store and purchased a pack of fire
crackers. The boy was placed on the
mule's back, and he crept slowly to the
rear, when he reached over and tied the
crackers to the tail. When he had dis
mounted, Buzby fixed a cigar to a long
stick and ignited the pack.
A very animated explosion followed;
but the mule manifested uo interest in the
proceedings, excepting that he lifted his
voice and gave a loud and hideous bellow,
which convinced Busby the animal con
sidered himself, somehow, the central point
of a Fourth of J jly celebration, and was
trying to contribute a vocal trifle to the
enthusiasm of the occasion.
The dampened man on the boat then
engaged, in language luxuriant with wicked
expressions, that the mule should be run
out of the way so that he could operate the
machine himself. It struck Bnzby as .a
good idea. He told the boy to lead the
mule away. The boy unhitched the traces
and tried. The mule seemed perfectly con
tented where he was Then Buzby and the
boy and the man leaned up against the side
elevation of the mule, and pushed. The
miile glanced lazily around at them, re
maining firm, then he swept his near hind
leg under and out again suddenly, flooring
the three pushers instantly. Then he
turned to one of the bystanders and distinct
ly winked twice. Skeptics **~7e Ques
tioned if he really winked, but the man
who saw him do it is ready to make au
affidavit to the fact.
Buzby then ordered the boy to hitch the
mule again, lest he should happen to change
bis mind and resolve to quit unexpectedly.
The man on the boat adorning his language
with new and startling flowers of rhetoric,
alleged that he would fix the brute. So he
collected some kindling wood and shavings,
and prepared to start a bonfire under him.
j When the stuff began to burn the mule
stood firm upon three legs, and felt softly
I around him with the fourth, scattering the
fire far and wide.
Those who disliked improper language
were shocked at the terms employed by the
I man on the boat to characterize this out
rage.
Another fire was kindled and pushed
under the mule with a pole, after it hail
kindled into a fearful blaze. At first the
mule apparently tried to save himself by
throwing a hand spring; failing in this he
strove to get up on his hind legs. When
be found this wouldn't work, he started
around the ring with a jerk, knock
ing Buzby flat with the pole, nearly brain
-1 ing the boy, and hurting the boatman so
severely that he fairly tore the English lan
guage into shreds in his anxiety t* do
justice to the situation.
Then the mule revolved like lightning
for about ten minutes, at the end of which
time he broke loose and drifted down the
road toward home, leaving Buzby's Pat
ent Crane and Derrick a heap of splinters
and old iron.
Patent rights will be sold cheap to those
who apply early to Buzby. /
Discoveries of Little Things.
The art of printing, probably the par
ent of more good than all others, owes its
origin to rude impressions taken (for the
amusement of children) from letters carved
on the bark of a beach tree. This was a
light matter, which thousand would have
passed over with neglect. Gunpowder
was discovered from the falling of a spark
on some materials mixed in the mortar;
or perhaps we should rather say that artil
was the consequence of this spark and
lhe due obserr<*■*>*> erf the eironmauiße,
The stupendous results of the steam-engine
may all be traced to an individual observing
steam issuing from a bottle just emptied
and placed casually close to a fire. He.
plunged the bottle-neck into cold water,
and was intelligent enough to notice the in
stantaneous rush which ensued from this
simple condensing apparatus. Electricity
was discovered by a jierson observing that
a piece of rubbed gla -s or some similar sub
stance attracted small bits of paper, etc.
Galvanism, again, owes its origin to Ma
dame Gal vani's noticing the contraction of
the muscle of a skinned frog which was
accident ly touched by a person at the mom
ent of the p ofessor, her husband, taking
an electric spark from a machine. He fol
lowed up the hint by experiments. Pen
dulum clocks were invented from Galileo's
observing the lamp in a church swing to
and fro. The telescope we owe to some
children o'a spectacle-maker placing two
or more pairs of spectacles before each other,
and looking through them at a distant ob
ject. The glimpse thus afforded was fol
lowed up by older heads. Tne baromeser
originated in the circumstances of a pump.
Which had been fixed higher than usual
above the surface of a well, being found
not to draw water. A sagacious observer
hence reduced the pressure of the atmos
phere, and tried quick silver. The Ar
gand lamp was invented by one of the
brothers of that name having remarked
that a tube held by chance over a candle
caused it to burn with a bright flame—an
effect before unattainable, though earnestly
sought after. Without the Argand lamp,
lighthouses (to pass oyer minor objects)
could not be made efficient, and on the im
portance of these it is needless to dwell.
Memories of Mount Tori. on.
"We wander all through the sad, silent
mansion. We look at tie spindlelegged
furniture, and at the rusty key on the wall,,
the key of the Bastile. We see Washing
ton's vest and small-clothes in the glass '
case, and a lock of his hair and original let
ters by his hand and Lafayette's. We see
pretty Eleanor Eustis's wedding-gift harpsi
chord, that her stepfather from
foreign lands for a surprise when she left
her girlhood's home. The pretty Eleanor
is buried long ago. All traces of her pink
and white beauty have left the earth; here
stands the dusty Harpsichord; brought by
strange hands to her old home. The room
that interests the most is the tiny attic
chamber where the devoted widow passed
her days after her husband's death. The
large chamber below was closed after his
decease. None entered it from that time
on. A rug and single bed Mrs. Washing
ton had moved to the attic room, and here,
winter and summer, she watched with
longing, crazy eyes the tomb that held her
dead. There was no place for stove or
grate; all day, in the room under the roof,
she sat by the "small window (her feet iu
winter on a zinc foot-stove filled with
coals), with a shawl wrapped about her
bent form, true Martha Washington, first
lady of the land 1 First in elegance in times
of peace; in courage in time of war; in
faithfulness in time of death. All women
look with tenderer eyes at the small marble
restihg place than at the grander casket by
their side. * One bears upon it a. draped
flag, cut in the stone, a shield and crouch
ing eagle; the other only the words,
"Martha, Consort of Washington." Yet
these words dim the eyes of loving wives;
they pierce the hearta of lonely widows,
and bind all true and fervent woman
hood close to the form that sleeps so
dreamlessly beside the one she loved truly
and long.
NO. 32.