Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, September 09, 1880, Image 1

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    VOL. LIV.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF
BELLEFONTE
C. T. Alenuido. C. M. llower.
ALEXANDER A BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office in Garraan's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
£II.EMKNT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Northwest corner of Dl-tmond,
\7 OtTM A HAMlXlks,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK. PA.
High Street, opposite F rst Nat lon si Bank.
YTTM.C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLKFONTK. PA.
Praet'ees In all the courts of centre County.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or Engl sh.
iy ILBI'R F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLKFONTK. PA.
All bus nes promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
jTa. Beaver. J. W. Gepbart.
JJEAVEK A GEPHART.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office 0.1 Alleghany Stree', North of High.
Vy A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
i
BELLEFONTE. PA.
Office on Woodrlng's Block, Opposite Court
House.
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA,
Consultations In English or German. Office
In Lyon' Building. Allegheny street.
JOHN G. LOVE,
' ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLKFONTK. PA.
Office In the rooms formerly occupied by the
late w. p. Wilson.
BUSINESS CARDS OF MILLHEIM, &.
Q A. STURGIS,
DEALER IN
Watcher, Clock*. Jewelry. Silverware. A"\ Re
pairing neatly and promptly don • and war
ranted. M .In S'reet, opposite Hank, M Uhetm,
Pa.
O DEININGER,
X * NOTARY PUBLIC.
SCKIBNKK ANO CONVEYANCER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
All business en - rusted to htm. su h as wr.tlng
and acknowledging Deeds. Mortgages, Releas s,
Ac., will be executed wish neutnets and uls
p tch. office on Main street.
"II H.TOMLINSON,
* DEALER IN
ALL KINDS OF
Groceries, Notions, Drugs, Tobac<os, Cigars,
Fine Confectloneiles aid ever.v thing in the line
or a tlrst-ciass grocery st -r<.
Country Produce 1 aken In exchange ror goods.
Main st eet, opposite Bank, Ml lhelm. Pa.
JJ AVID I. BROWN,
MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN
TINWARE. STOVEPIPES, Ac.,
SPOUTING A SPECIAUTY.
Bhop on Main Street, two h uses east of Bank,
Mlllhelm, Penna.
J EJSfiNHUIH,
* JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
MILLHEIM, PA.
All business promptly attended t
collection of claims a specialty.
Office opposite Elsenhuih's Drug Store.
IVf ÜbbJ£K & SMITH,
DEALERS IK
Hardware, Stoves. Oils, Paints, Glass, Wall
Paper , coach Trimmings, and Saddlery Ware,
All gradea of Patent Wheels,
corner of Main and Fenn street-, Mlllhelm,
Penna.
JACOB WOLF,
FASHIONABLE TAILOR.
MILLHEIM, PA.
Cutting a Specialty.
snop next door to Journal Book Store.
jyjILLHEIM BANKING CO.,
MALI STREET,
MILLHEIM, PA.
A. WALTER, Cashier. DAY. KRAPE, Pres.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
RKBERSBURQ, PA.
fatiaiaction Guaranteed.
®le pitlleiw SinmiaL
ONLY.
Only jui can't but ki: ;
Only a child mother would aims.
Only a lx*y. and just what he see ins,
Only a youth, l.ving in dreams.
Only a man brave and true :
Only a father with feeling so new.
Only a grawlfHt waiting for rest ;
Only a monad, ly dewdrops caressed.
A Woman's Sacrifice.
"You might do better, John."
Mrs. Williams spoke fretfully, as if the
i news told to her by her only son was not
pleasant for her to hear.
! "Better, mother!"
What a ringing clear voice it was.
So strong and hearty, as if to match the
tall, stalwart figure; the bright brown eyes
and handsome, sunny face of John M il
; liams.
i "Better 1" And now a hearty laugh rang
out. As if there lived a better woman than
: llannah Coyle!"
"But John, she is only a shop girl."
She won't be a shop girl when she is my
wife. lam not a rich man, but my salary
will make a comfortable home for all of
j us.
"She will turn me out of doors like eu
j ougli."
"Mother,'' cried John with a quiver of
anger rnnuing through the surprised re
proach of his voice, "you should know Hau
| tiali Coyle better than that."
i Mrs. William's conscience gave her a
; sharp twinge, for she did know Hannah
i better than to think she would deprive a
crippled old woman of her only home.
; But Mrs. Williams, like many a fond
' mother, had nursed such high hopes for
the future matrimonial prospects of her
Ik>\ . that she felt only a rude shock of dis
appointment w hen he told her of his en
gagement.
"Surely," she mused, after John had left
her for his daily routine of duty, "surely
Johu might aspire to something higher than
a mere siiop girl.
He was well educated, well connected,
and occupied a responsible position.
Just one week later Hannah Coyle came
i to the house, where she was to have had
grudging welcome as its mistress, and en
tering softiy went to the crippled woman's
, chair.
Crouched down among the cushions
seeming to have slirunk to leas than her act
ual size in her misery, was the fond, proud
mother, her frame shivering in convulsive
agony, her words always the same.
"Oh, John, my son, my good son! Oh,
Heavenly Father, let me die!"
She had lieeu all one long night so nioan
. ing, so sobbing, utterly desolate, utterly
alone.
The sou she idolized, ihe trusted clerk,
! the fond, proud lover, was lying in a cell,
waiting a trial for forgery.
1 He had been arrested for passing a forged
check, taken in the very act of attempting
to cash it at the bank.
j The story he told of its possession was so
I improbable that it still further injured him,
and gave personal revenge an additional
motive for his punishment. He said that
Gerald Soniers, the 9on of one of the part
ners of the firm, had sent him to the bank
i.with the check.
i It scarcely needed the young man's in
dignant denial to contradict this story.
A friend in the same employ had gone to
the mother and told the news as kindly and
j gently as possible.
A fierce anger and stout pride had kept
the old lady up during that trying inter
view, but once she was alone, she crouched
i in the cushions of her chair and moaned
j out in the utter misery of her heart.
I There was no strong arm to lilt her to her
own room that night.
I There was no hearty, ringing voice to bid
1 her good-morning.
| Still the feeble voice, freighted with its
•burden of anguish, moaned its sad refrain,
when the door opened and Hannah Coyle
came in.
No friend had broken the news gently to
the young girl.
But the shock came rudely on her from
the columns of the daily paper.
It was not in one hour, or two, that she
could conquer her own grief so as to leave
the house. But when the first battle was
over in her heart, she went at once where
she knew John would have her go.
So when, faint with her long night of
misery, the mother lay moaning, a kind
hand was placed upon her shoulder, and a
voice clear and strong, but sweet with wo
manly tenderness, spoke the dearest word
on earth:
"Mother!"
She looked up with haggard, bloodshot
eyes, and saw bending over her a face that
love, pity, and deep, mutterable tenderness
had transformed into positive beauty.
"Mother," the sweet, clear voice said,
"this is not what John would wish."
The mother's tears, the first she had
shed, flowed fast at the sound of her son's
name.
"Oh, Hannah!" she said, "you do not
believe John is guilty?"
"John guilty?" the girl cried, her voice
ringing like a trumpet call, her eyes flash
ing, and her cheeks growing crimson,
"Mother, how can you put the words to
gether? You know—l know that he is in
nocent."
"But he is in prison. He will be tried!"
This was the first conversation that drew
the hearts of the two women together, bu
the bond that knit them during the months
that followed was that of suffering and sor
row, that would have torn the heart of the
man whom they loved and trusted during
his darkest hours.
For the trial only separated them more
surely and terribly.
Twelve intelligent men, after hearing all
the evidence, pronounced a verdict of guil
ty, and John Williams was sentenced for
ten years.
It is not in the power of our pen to de
scribe the desolate home to which Biis news
was carried.
They never doubted him, even in the
face of all the overwhelming evidence tha
had condemned him, but Heaven seemed
to have deserted them when they knew the
result of the trial.
Hannah Coyle was not pretty. Her fea
tures were plain, her eyes soft brown, and
she had a sweet mouth, that could smile
bravely md light her face for the invalid's
eyes in their darkest hours. But she had
one great beauty in long, heavy masses of
hair, of a rich dark brown, and of which
she was fond and proud because John ad
mired it.
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER i), 1880.
"It is my oulv lieauty," she would say,
when old Mrs. Williams exclaimed at i*n
profusion, "atul 1 must keep it flossy and
pretty tor John's sake, lie must thid his
wife unaltered waiting for him when he
comes home."
This was before the crushing verdict that
ended the young clerk's trial.
Fortunately the old lady owned the little
houie in which she lived, her sole legacy
from her dead husband ; hut as the weary
months crept slowly along, poverty showed
its ugly face in the humble home.
Hannah worked faithfully at hei old
jsist until Mrs. \\ illiams was taken very
ill.
Sorrow and anxiety began to have physi
cal as well as mental effect, and the mother
bowed down, aged more in one year of
separation from her son than she had ever
been in ten of their loving companion
ship.
It was impossible to leave her alone, and
the situation was resigned.
Nearer end nearer crept the gaunt wolf
poverty.
Little articles of furniture that could be
spared weie sold; little comforts were de
nied; extra hours were given to the poorly
paid sewing that replaced Hannah's work,
and yet actual hunger was staring them in
t lie face.
Nearly two years had John Williams
slept in a convict s cell, when one morning
Hannah Coyle, leaving her self-imposed
charge sleeping, went to one of the fash
ionable hairdressers.
"1 have come to sell my hair," choking
back her tears, and thinking—"it will grow
out again before John comes home."
The proprietor led her to the hair-dress
ing-room. and hid his amazement at the
supurb profusion under a hard, half-con
temptuous smile.
When left, only three shillings had been
paid her for her c'osely cropped head; yet
that would keep life a little longer in the
feeble frame of John's mother and Hannah
was thankful.
She was rapidly walking home, w hen she
was attracted for a moment by a crowd
and her feet seemed paraly zed as she heard
a man say:
"1 saw his face. It is Gerald Somers."
"Is he much hurt ?"
"Fatally, 1 should say. One of the horses
put his foot 011 his breast."
"Gerald Soinniers! Fatally injured ?"
Hannah never paused to contemplate
possibilities."
She forced her way through the crowd
into the room where the young man lay
waiting for death.
"You can not go in."
"I must go in," she said. "It is a mat
ter of life and death. 1 must see him be
fore he dies."
Something in the white earnest face
moved the man's heart aud he opened the
door.
Gn a sofa, covered with a sheet, lay the
handsome, dissipated son of the merchant
prince.
Kneeling beside him was the father, and
the physician stood al the head of the
couch.
They had thought consciousness dead,
when a clear voice spoke the dying man's
name.
"Gerald Soniers."
He opened his eyes wildly, and the clear
voice spoke again in words of most solemn
import.
"As you hope for mercy in the next
world tell the truth of John William's in
nocence. "'
He gasped convulsively, while his father
looked inquiringly at the intruder.
"John Williams," the dying voice said
feebly, "was innocent. I did give him
the check, as he said. I wrote the signa
ture."
"Gerald!" cried Hie father, "is this
true ?"
"It is true, as I hope for God's mercy."
There was a moment of silence, aud then
the old man turned to Hannah.
"Who are you?"
"John William's promised wife.
'Hio. I will do him justice. Leave me
with my son.''
She bowed her head, and went slowly
from the presence of the dyiug.
James Soniers kept his word.
He was an upright man, and sacrificed
the name of the dead to right that of the
living.
He would not take John back.
The sight of his face was t exquisitely
painful, but he paid him his full salary for
the time of his absence, and found him a
lucrative position.
It was the day of the home-coming.
Mrs. Williams in her owu chair was smil
ing upon John as he caressed Hannah's
cropped hair.
Very grave and pale his sunny face
had become, but he smiled as his mother
said:
"It was for me, John, she sacrificed her
splendid hair. 1 can never tell you all
she sacrificed for me, but that speaks for
itself."
Clasping Hannah in a close embrace he
asked:
"Do you think now, mother, I might do
better"'
"Not if you could marry an Empress."
She thinks so still, aad John agrees with
her, though he has been married four yoars
aud Hannah's hair is as superb as ever.
Umbrella Dignity
In Bcrrn&h the umbrella has deep and
secret meaning to convey what is as double-
Duteh at first to the foreignerseye.lt is the
necessary finish to the out of door toilet of
the Peguan or Burmese fasbiuable, but it
is much more. It has very delicate duties
to perform which could uot so well lie al
loted in Bunnah to any other instrument.
Gold or gilded umbrellas, which in the
provinces may be carried by anybody, are
reserved in the capital Sor princes of the
blood alone; and red umbrellas are affected
by the grandee of Burmese society as being
the most gaudy appearance, Etiquette
has also fixed the exact number of umbrel
las that Burmese nobles may display when
they approach the "lord of the golden
palace;" and it has now been settled beyond
possibility of dispute that no one but the
Ein-she-Men, or heir apparent is entitled
to have borne over his litter the full com
plement of eight golden umbrellas. To
carry a letter under a golden umbrella is to
accord to it royal honors in Burmah. Eight
golden umbrellas are properly carried over
a king's letter; and when the Burmese
authorities would not peimit the umbrellas
to be carried over a governor-general's
letter, according to custom, Major Phayre,
Envoy to Burmah, in 1853, insisted upon
the Union Jack being waved over it on its
way from the residency to the palace.
Tlir Oypy at Horn**
In Hungary, the Gypsy is to lie seen 111
the purest type, strongly resemliiiiig the
mulatto, except that the eye is generally
more liquid, like that of the Spanish or
Italian races As a rule, the men are finer
looking than the women, their picturesque
costume, gold ear-rings anil long curls ad
ding greatly to their good looks. Once
111 a while, however, one sees among the
young girls a real Eastern lieauty, who
might serve for a model of Cleopatra, but
usually their principal attraction lies in
their peculiar dress—a bright handkerchief
wound around the blackest of luxuriant
liair in fantastic fashion,fastened with gold
pins, dangling crnamens, and sometimes
a bunch of flowers.
Many of the gypsies have beautiful
houses ami extensive estates in Sieben
burgen; are rich not only in money and
lands, but possess treasures in plate and
rare old furniture,for which they may well
be envied. Notwiths'anding these attrac
tions at home to induce them to lead domes
tic lives, this race, upon whom the curse of
disquietude seems to rest, can only enjoy
their homes for short periods. After a few
months of ease und luxury,even the wealth
iest among them leave civilized life, and
join wandering bands to go off for months
of travel, without any apparent aim except
the fulfillment of that destiny which has
made them wanderers on the face of the
earl h.
The whole world seems arrayed against
them, and, except in their own little col
ony, they are only allowed to dwell with
their fellow-beings for a few days at a time.
Even this short intercourse is granted by a
special written permission from the chief
of police, without which no gypsy cau
enter or remain over night in any village.
They are obliged, however, to serve in
the army, but are disliked and mistrusted
by Ixith comrades and officers for their dis
honesty and insincerity. Several officers
in the Austrian army, who have had them
under command, told 11s that the Zigeuners
made very poor soldiers, iusul>ordiuatc,aud
deserters whenever the chance offered, al
though cringing to the last degree when in
the presence of their superior officers.
"We can always delect a gypsy in the
ranks," said Major 15 , "by the ser
vility of his salute.*' Yet among them
selves they are brave and law-abiding,hav
ing generally a male leader to each band or
tribe. As far as we oould learn, the
"gypsy queen'' is a theatrical creation; but
the wives and daugbteis of the leaders are
held in high esteem, as are also the defend
ants of their ancient chiefs. There is a
pride and independence about them that
would lead us to believe that they had their
origin in ancient royalty.
Baron X , wishing to get rid of a
band whieh had encamped 011 his grounds,
offered them money to "move on," which
the leader indignantly refused, saying :
"1 don't want your moiev; my estate in
Siebcnhurgen would buy j ours out a dozen
times!"
The baran told us he liad no doubt that
the man's statement was true, for, when
cin the road, rich and j>oor meet on an
equality, living the same simple camp
hie.
They travel in comfortable caravans,
varying in style, according to the owner's
means, from the canvas-covered wagon,
or such a one as that in which Mignon is
introduced to her audience, to quite a nice
cottage on wheels. They generally select
a resting place either in the woods or
groves near some tow n, or by the margin
of some retired lake or river, buying what
ever provisions they cannot beg or steal.
The time of encampment is spent in
trading horses, repairing or making tin
ware, and giving a I fresco entertainments,
consisting of music, dancing, and fortune
telling. If a gypsy comes to your house
inquiring if your tins need mending, you
may as well yield up some article at once,
for he will not leave until he has obtained
a job, fiequently pushing his way into the
kitchen if refused, and carrying off a pan
or boiler by force. He will return il in a
few days, repaired and burnished up equal
to new, but demanding double its orginal
price for his lalxir. It is in vain to remind
him that he did the work against your will,
and that his price is exorbitant; he will
only assure you, with the utmost coolness,
that the article is much better now than
when it was new, and repeat his demand
for pay. So feared is the Zigeuner'sdisplea
sure that few people have the temerity to
argue the point, and his request is usually
complied with, however exorbitant.
tJobou'fi Flue.
John Hobson was hugging the lee side of
a King street alley, New Y'ork, to keep out
of the rain, when a policeman came along
and invited hint to stroll over to the station
house. John did not CATC to go, but he was
finally persuaded. He was traveling incog.,
though, he wanted them all to know when
they tried to register him, so they had to
identify him by a grocer's bill and an invi
tation to a Rhode Island clambake, which
constituted his effects. Teu dollars was
the fine imposed when he was arraigned in
the police court, and Mrs. Hobson was very
mad over it when she came up to settle for
her captive spouse.
"1 like to see justice done right up to the
handle," she observed. "But you ain't
goin' 10 stick the Hobson family for no ten
dollar note because the oleman made a fool
of hisself. There's law in this country, and
I'm goin' to see what the Supreme C'ourt'll
say to this."
iiis Honor kept mute, and vacantly eyed
a paper weight.
"I ain't goin' to be bluffed either by no
biue coats and brass buttons. I know what's
right, and I'd not he treated so if I have to
go to NYashiuglou to square myself "
His Honor Jilted his eyes to a last year's
calendar.
"Ten dollars! Good lauds! To think o'
the like. You believe you cau impose 011 a
woman, but Matilda Smith Hobson's not
tlie kind to stand extortion. D'ye hear ?"
His Honor took up the ten-day commii
mcut'aud dipped ins pen to sigu it.
"This is a free country and we won't
stand no tyranny. Do you take trade dol
lars?"
His Honor liegau to write.
"I'll see if the Mayor hasn't a hand in
running this town, and if you swindle p<x>r
people this way. There's a rive, a two aud
three ones. That's right, ain't it ? Send
the old man out if he's sobered up. I'm not
the woman to stand imposition, i can tell
you."
Aud llobBon's fine was marked paid as
she bustled to the door.
——
THEBK have been a great many fail
ures this year, and the rush to Euiope
js therefore correspondingly large.
They the It v Aft>r All
Jack was not a bad ls>y, but he was
terribly mischievous and bis parents
really felt relief at the thought tliut he was
to start for tioarding school the next day.
His father thought of it when he found
that Jack had used his razor to whittle a
kite-stick. He thought so again when lie
discovered that Jack's ball bad gone
through the parlor window. Jack's mother
thought so when she found muddy loot
prints all over the parlor carpet and a
great scar on the piano leg. They lsth
thought so when their chat at the supper
table was interrupted by whistling and the
upsetting ol the milk pitcher.and they told
Jack so, when, after having driven almost
wild his father, who was trying to read the
evening newspaper, bv getting up a tight
between the dog and cat, lie sat down 011
his mother's new bonnet she had just been
fixing and utterly ruined it. Early the
next morning Jxck was packed off. Oh!
what a relive from noise and trouble it was.
His father's razor remains umlislurbed, uo
sound of breaking was heard,the par
lor carpet was unstained by mud. But some
how the house didn't went very cheerful
to its occupants. It was a long day.
Tea was served. There was no whist
ling and upsetting of dishes to interrupt
the conversation, but the talk didn't seein
to run so smoothly after all. And when it
came to reading the evening newspaper and
fixing up anotner lonnet, the dog and cat
slept serenely >n the hearty-rug, and no
disturbance interrupted the proceedings.
That's the difference between having a
boy in the house and having him away,
and the gentleman put down Ins paper and
remarked as much to his wife, when noticed
a quivering ulsmt her mouth and two big
drops on her cheeks, and there was a kind
of mistiness about his eyes that bothered
him about seeing.
"Aes," she answered; it —is nice—and
quiet, uli, uli, on, u-u!" aud he got up an
went to the window and looked out aud
blew his nose for twelve minutes steadily.
Silly liii]>t*rtiiit-e of an Irate Earl
Out of the giving of one of the most sue
Cessful and v c h> rc/u: balls of the Season
there arose an unpleasant incident. Among
othere guests the hostess invited a noble
lord of sjxirtHng proclivities and literary
tastes. He thanked her for the invitation,
but, pleading that bis dancing days were
over, he wrote her that if she would ask
his tlaughter, Ludy , in his place he
sh'uld esteem it a kindness. To tnis the
lady replied that as there were many
daughters of her personal acquaintances
whom she was obliged to omit from her
list, she regretted that she could not invite
a daughter whom she did uot know. The
Ear), for such lie was.swiftly retorted with
a note to this effect:
"Dear Mis. : As 1 am not accustom
ed to l>eing refused, I beg you to erase
from the visiting list of Mrs. ,ncc ,
the came of the Earl of aud .
Yours to command,
" AND .'*
The lady t<x>k the note to her husband,
who, indignant at the affront which he
considered had l>een put upon his wife,
wrote and demanded an apology from the
Earl. The Karl declined to apologize. The
husband thereupon threatened to publish
the Earl's letter. The Earl forbade his do
ing so, adding that it was scarcely worth
while to trouble tlie papers, since probably
there was not one jerson in ten thousind
who would cross the road to see either of
them hanged
Thus the matter stands, and the friends
of each party are discussing with some an
imation the question, "Who was 111 the
wrong ?"
old Time* in ('olnriiilo.
The first settlers of Boulder, say a wri
ter from that place, came herein 1808. In
18.~>9 quite a number came, aud some sixty
low houses were erected before 1800
stepped in. Of these log houses but few
remain. Christmas, 1859, saw a jovial
crowd of dancers in one of ihese houses,
windowless, we 'oelieve, aMhe time. Tiie
hardy pioneers went after fun and had it.
On the night in question, about two hun
dred sons of toil and seekers of gold and
their fortunes, aud seventeen lathes, had
assembled at the above-named place to par
take of a frontier tcrpsichorean. Marin us
G. Smith was then one of the beaux of
town, and his dress suit consisted of pants
made out of seamless sacks, and colored
blue by the aid of logwood. A lady now
living in town had an elegant dress made
out of flour sacks, also colored by the aid
of logwood. There were few whits shirts
in the neighborhood then, most of tiie
pioneers wearing woolen or flannel ones.
A man with a white shirt on was in style
and could dance with his coat off; a man
without any would wear a coat buttoned
up to the neck. Coats for dancing pur
poses did not seem to be any too numer
ous, consequently the pioneers helped
each other out For instance, Alf. Nichols
had six white shirts which were all at that
ball and the coats of these six white-sliirt
ed fellows went to cover the backs of some
one else. When one fellow hud a dance
he would loan his coat to another, ami
then his turn would come, and so the white
shiitsand long coats were dancing all
night, and went around among the two
hundred men. There were no wall flowers
among the seventeen ladies. But they
say the supper for the ocoasiou was a
grand affair: wash-boilers full of coffee,
great hunks of black-tailed deer, jack-rab
bits, fish, game and delicacies brought
from the Mates in cans, all went to make
up a glorious supper—one that the par
takers would like to see repeated. There
may uot have been much style, but the
seamless sacks and flour bags saw as much
pure enjoyment as does the finest and
gaudiest attire o f ''--owj.
Bow Towner CLUuht a Dee,
One day our dog Towser was a lyiu' in
the sun trine to sleep, but the flies was that
bad he couldn't cos he had to catch 'em,
and bitne by a bee lit 011 his head and was
working about like the dog was his'n.
Towter he held his head still, and when
the bee was close to his nose, Towser
winked at liim like he sed you see what
this buffer is doin, he thinks I'm a lily-of-
Hie-valley which isn't opened yet, but you
just wait till I blossom and you will see
some fun, and sure enuf Towser opened his
mouth very slow so as not to frit.ten the bee,
and the bee went into Towser's mouth.
Then Towser shet his eyes and his mouth
too, and had begun to make a peaceful
smile wen the bee stuns him, and you
never see a llly-of-the-valley ack so in your
1 life.
Kntcn by Mountain Lion*.
On or about the Ist of July two prospect
ors con 1 pie ted their outfit at Pitkin, (Jolo
rado,and departed in search of pay dust and
saleable holes. They traveled on for some
days, and stopped only for a few hours now
and then to examine the deceptive rock that
rose before thein 011 Ixith sides. They at
last reached a small valley in the mountains
and were pussing through it, when sudden
ly a number of mountain lions made their
appearance and started immediately for
their prey. One of the men made an effort
to repel the attack of the hideous beasts,
while the other sought protection in his legs,
and, running to a projecting rock on the
mountain side, was enabled to see the terri
ble encounter between Ins comrade and the
lions. They were in bloody battle, while
the shining claws of the beasts were seen
to combine and strip the flesh from the man
who was battling with the stock of his gun.
The coward, who unfortunately lived to
tell his story, says that suddenly the pro
spector was on thu ground and that his en
raged adversaries were devouring him.
Thinking that jMmsibiy one limn would not
appeuse their appetites, the looker on
thought it al>out time to leave and so has
tened away. He was now without any
weapon against the invasion of hunger or
tiie chill mountain weather, and his only
recourse from inevitable death was to reach
a cauip. To return through the valley he
dared not, and by making a circuitous
route lie trusted that he would strike a
trail. He started on, however, and wanted
to reach the trail before night was there to
lead liirn astray with her myriads of star
lights. This was where he committed his
error, lor he wandered from the right di
rection, and wearied and discouraged, he
sat down and built a lire. The light came to
succor him, but now hunger advanced, and
soon visions of a comfortable cabin and
plenty of food danced before him, as if
gloutiug ujMjn his misery. He did not suc
ceed in finding the trail that day. and when
nightfall came he ate a few pine burrs and
laid down exposed to the elements again
This continued for eight days and nights,
and at last he accidentally discovered a
trail. He reached this, and when he si ould
have been overjoyed at his prospects, all
hope Set-med to desert him and he laid
down, not caring w hat came. He remained
there some hours probably, wlieu a parr
ot prospectors came along, and iouud him
almost unconscious. They administered a
little brandy and succeeded in reviving him.
Aned was prepared, but his stomach, that
had been denied food for so mauy days,
let used 10 retain it. lie was taken up and
strapped upon a horse, being unable to keep
his scat without it, and the narrow condi
tion of the trail prevented them from riding
beside ami supporting him. The reporter's
informants met the party with the man
shortly afterward,and,lialliug them, elicited
the aliove, but neglected to ascertain the
names of the unfortunate prospectors. The
man with his days of starvation wus almost
reduced into nothingness, while his fissured
lips and cheek-bones that appealed for aid
piesenicd a revolting picture. The man
will, 110 doubt, follow his friend into eter
nity, but in away not so tragic and horri
ble.
Caution* In Eating
1. Iff course don't eat too nhich. The
digestive lluids are limited in quantity.
All aliove enough is undigested, irritating
and weakening the system, and often caus
ing paralysis of the brain by drawing on
the nervous force more rapidly than it is
generated.
2. Don't eat letween meals; the stom
afh must rest, or it will sooner or later
break down. Even the heart has to rest
between the beats.
o. Don't eat a full meal when exhaust
ed. The stomach is as exhausted as the
rest of the Ikhlv.
4. Don't take lunch at noon and eat
heartily at night. The whole digestive
system needs to share in the rest and re
cuperation of sleep. Besides th* tendency
in to put a full meal into a weakened stom
ach.
5. Don't substitute stimulus for food—
like many women who do half a day's
work 011 strong coffee or tea. As well, in
the case of a horse substitute the whip for
oats.
fi. Don't have a daily monotony of
dishes. Variety is uecessary for relish, ana
relish is necessary to good digestion.
7. Don't eat bliudly. There can be
nothing in the body—muscles, membranes,
liones, nerve, brain—which is not in our
food. One art'ele furnishes one or more
elements, and another others. We could
starve on fine flour. Some articles do not
nourish, only warm.
8. Eat according to the seaon—one
third less in summer than in white'-. In
the latter, fat meat, sugar and starch are
apptopriate, as being heat-makers; in the
former, milk, vegetables, and every variety
of ripe fruit.
9. Eat with cheer. Cheer promotes
digestion ; care, fret and passion arrest it.
Lively chat, racy anecdotes, aud innocent
gossip are better than Hal ford sauce.
Ihn Rose ilitr,
Gather your rose leaves in dry weather,
remove the petal*, and when a half peek is
obtained take a large bowl aud strew table
salt on the bottom; then three liandfuls of
leaves, and repeat uniii all the leaves are
used, covering the top with salt. Let this
remain Ave days, stirring and turning twice
a day, when they should appear moist. Add
tlnee our.cos of bruised or c atsely pow
dered allspice; one ounce cinnamon stick
biuised, which forms the stock. Allow to
remain a week, turning daily from top to
bottom, Put into a permanent jar one
ounce allspice and adding the stock, layer
by layer, sprinkle between the layers the
following mixture: One ounce each cloves
and cinnamon, two nutmegs, all coarsely
powdered ; some ginger root, sliced thin;
half an ounce of aniseed, bruised;- ten
grains finest musk; half pound of freshly
dried lavender flowers; two ounces of pow
dered or finely sliced orris root, and essen
tial oils and libitum ; also add fine colognes,
rose or orange llower water, orange and
lemon peel. Freshly-dried violets, tube
roses, clove pinks or other highly scented
flowers should be added each year
in seasoD. Fine extracts of any kind will
enhance the fragrant odor, while fresh rese
leaves, salt and allspice, made as at first,
must be added when convenient in the rose
season. Shake and stir the jar once or
twice a week and open only during use.
The delightful effect produced throughout
the dwelling by the daily use of these jars
is not as universally known as it should be
for apartments rendered unpleasant by the
odors arising from the kitchsn. Noxious
gases may be dissipated by the frequent
use of the "rose jar.
Three Wonderful Doga.
There are three very smart dogs in
Brooklyn. The first of these dogs is Jerry,
and Jerry is the property of a fire engine
company. Ills duties arc supposed to be,
or originally were, by barking, to help the
firemen hurry the horses from their stalls
to the engine, when the bell rings for fire,
for horses and engine are in the same room;
but age has begun to tell upon him, and lie
is w t kept as strictly to work as in his
younger (lays. Besides, the horses are so
well trained as not to need urging or as
sistance, from men or dogs, in taking their
places at the pole.
Jerry's funny trait is begging. How he
came to take to lagging, no one knows;
but one day, some ten years ago, it was
discovered that Jerry treated the meals
served him at the engine-house with con
siderable indifference, and subsequently the
secret leaked out, when ke was found pay
ing visits at certain hours to tine mansions
in the vicinity. In some way, best known
to himself, Jerry had established a regular
food route, and to this day (unless he has
died within a few weeks) Jerry, about
eight a. m., walks out of the engine-house,
and begins his cold victual tramp from
house to house, sure of being well received
and well entertained by his patrons. But
Jerry is always ready for duty, and let the
fire-bell ring in the neighboring tower, and
off he speeds, like an arrow, for the engine
house. Once 1 met him at a distance from
the engine-house when the bell raug. In
stinctively he knew he could not get back
in time to go with the horses, so he began
leaping up until straugers must ha/e
thought him gone mad. Suddenly, over
the heads of the people in the street, he
caught sight of what he wanted—the cap
of a fireman—and then, with a fearful yelp,
sped down the street, and following the
fireman, was in a few minutes at the post
of duty. Jerry is a tawny-colored aminal.
part shepherd-dog and part spaniel, so that
lie good blood in his veins.
Dor number two is a beautiful skje
tern. r uw e lby Dr. J., of the lie g ts, and
is as well known in that part of the city as
his skillful master, since the doctor's car
riage is rarely seen without having Jack
perched on the seat, between the doctor
and coachman. Indeed, Jack is such a
licensed character that be insists upon hav
ing his ride, and the moment the carriage
is at the door, jumps into it and on the seat
without asking any questions. I)r. J. has
occasionally succeeded in leaving his canine
friend at home, but Jack, bound not to be
cheated out of his ride, has on several of
these occasions managed to escape from
the house, and then has very saucily
jumped into the first doctor's carriage that
lias come along, and insisted upon being
accomodated, even by growling and show
ing his teeth. Jack has been taught to
Lake a penny in his mouth every moruing,
uud go to the butcher's and buy his own
breakfast. Not long ago the butcher, to
try Jack's patience, pretended not to see
him, and even disregarded his short, plead
ing barks. Suddenly the butcher missed
the dog, and, at the same time, a fine
chicken, and looking out of the door, saw
Jack running for dear life, with the fowl in
his mouth. The butcher presented the
doctor with a bill for the chicken, which
the doctor paid, thinking the joke a good
on 3, though, to my mind, the butcher
would have been served just right had he
not gotten his money—for it was a meau
thing to tease the dog.
The third dog is the property of H lady,
and a great, ungainly-100 king fellow he is.
But he is an excellent watch-dog, and
decidedly down on tramps. The lady has
an aviary—which is a plaee for keeping
birds—and a wonderful aviary it is, con
sisting of two rooms tilled with canaries,
which fly about at will and live in as nearly
a wild state as these delicate creatures can
in this rigorous climate. One of these
rooms has a mosquito-net partition running
across it, in order to afford visitors an
opportunity to watch the feathered inmates
without disturbing them, and, as the stairs
lead directly into this part of the aviary,
of course the dog since lie lives in the home
lias as free access to the aviary as his gentle
unstress. Indeed, he is allowed to go up
there alone, and such is his good nature
that he has never broken through the net
ting. More than this, Mrs. H. often lets
him go into the part of the aviary where
the birds are confined, and such is the feel
ing existing between him and the canaries
that when he lies down on the sanded
floor—as he often does —the birds will
sometimes alight on his body. When he
gets tired of being made a perch of, be
begins to gently roll from side to side,
until the birds have been shaken off, then
rises, stretches himself, and demurely fol
lows his mistress down the stairs.
Great Beam.
In May, 1838, Messrs. Moffat and Smith,
surgeons on board a merchant schooner,
went to the city of Great Benin, wishing
to opeu, or rather reopen, trade. The lat
ter, a "very promising young man," died
of a dysentery f aught by being drenched
with rain. They were horrified to see a
trench full of bodies at which the turkey
buzzards were tugging, and "two corpses
in a sitting position." These victims had
probably been dispatched with a formal
message announcing tne ai rival of strau
gers to the King's father in Ghost-laod.
The same unpleasant spectacle was offered
in August, 1802, when 1 visited Beuiu,
accompanied by Lieutenant Stokes, of lier
Majesty's ship Bloodhound, and I)r. Henry.
In the tall rank herbage, on the right of
the path leading into the city, appeared
the figure of a fine young man, bare to the
waist, with arms extended and wrisis fas
tened to a scaffold frame work of peeled
wands, poles and stakes planted behind
, him. For a moment we thought t hat the
wretch might be alive; a few sleps con
vinced us of our mistake. He had been
crucified after the African fashion, seated
on a rough wooden stool, with a white
calico cloth veiling the lower limbs. Be
ween the ankles stood an uncouth image
of yellow clay, concerning which the
frightened natives who accompanied us
would not speak. A rope of I liana, in
negro English called a "tie-tie" bound tight
round the neck to a stake behind, had
been the imn e.liate cause of death. The
features still showed strangulation, 'aud
the sacrifice was so fresh that, though the
flies were there, the turkey-buzzardß had
not found the eyes. The blackness of the
skin and the general appearance proved
that the sufferer was a slave. No eniotiou
whatever, save holding the nose, was
shown by the crowd of Beninese, men aud
women, who passed by; nor was there any
expression of astonishment when I returned
' to sketch the victim.
NO. 3(5.