YOL. LIV.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF
BELLEFONTE.
C. T. Alexander c. M. Mower.
A BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEPONTX, FA.
Office In German's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BBLLKFONTX, PA.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
YOCTM & HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
High Street, opposite First National Bank.
yyrM. c. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE. PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre County.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
yyriLBUR F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
All business promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
JgEAVER A GEPHART.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High,
yyr A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Woodrlng*! Block, Opposite Court
Home.
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BKLLKFONTK, PA,
Consultations In English or German, Office
In Lyon'* Building, Allegheny Street.
JOHN O. LOVE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLKFONTE, PA.
Office in the rooms formerly occupied by the
late w. p. Wilson.
BUSINESS CARDS OF MILLHEIM, k.
£1 A. STURGIS,
DEALER IK
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, Silverware, Ac. Re
pairing neatly and promptly don? and war
ranted. Main Street, opposite Bank, M 'ilhetm,
PA
T O. DEININGER,
* NOTARY PUBLIC.
SCRIBSER AND CONVEYANCER,
MILLHEIM,, PA.
All business entrusted to him. such as writing
and acknowledging Deeds, Mortgages, Releases,
Ao.. will be executed with neatness and dis
patch. Office on Main Street.
TT H. TOMLINSON,
• DEALER I*
ALL KINDS OF
Groceries. Notions, Drugs. Tobaccos, Clg&Bt
Pine Conlectlonei les and everything in the Una
of a first-class Grocery st ire.
Country Produce taken In exchange for goods.
Main St eet, opposite Bank, Ml lheim. Pa.
J"\ A VXD I. BROWN,
MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN
TINWARE, STOVEPIPES, *e.,
SPOUTING A SPECIALTY.
Shop on Main Street, two h uses east of Bank,
Millheim, Penna.
J EISENHUTH,
* JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
MILLHEIM, PA.
All business promptly attended to.
Collection of claims a specialty.
Office opposite Elsenhuth's Drug Store.
"JA/F USSER & SMITH,
DEALERS IN
Hardware, Stoves, Oils, Paints, Glasa, Wa
Paper-, coach Trimmings, and Saddlery Ware,
&C • JfeC.
All grades of Patent Wheels.
Corner of Main and Fenn street*, MUlhelm.
Penna.
JACOB WOLF,
FASHIONABLE TAILOR,
MILLHEIM, PA.
Cutting a Specialty.
Shop next aoor to Journal Book Store.
TY£ILLHEIM BANKING CO.,
MAIN STREET,
MILLHEIM, PA.
A. WALTER, Cashier. DAY. KRAPE, Prea.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
REBERSBURG, PA.
Shtietaotloa Guaranteed,
ii t pillleiw §®ir®l
TO DEATH.
Metliinks it were do poiu to die
Ou such an are, wheu aucb a aky
O'er oanopies ttia weat;
To gace my fill ou yon oalm deep,
And like an infant fall aaleep
On earth, my motber'a breast.
There'a peaoe and welcome in you sea
Of eudlees blue tranquility ;
The clouds are bring things ;
I trace their Teina of liquid gold,
I aee them solemnly unfold
Their aolt aud fleecy wings.
These be the angola that oonrey
Ue weary children of a day,
Life's tedious nothing o'er
To rex the genius of repose.
On Deaih's majestic shore.
No darkness there divides the away
With startling dawn aud dazzling day ;
But gloriously serene
Are the interminable plaius ;
One fixed, eternal sunset reigns
O'er the wide, silent scene.
I cannot doff all human fear ;
I know tby greeting is severe
To this poor shell of clay ;
let come, O, Death ! tby freeaiug kiss
Emancipates ! thy rest is bliss !
I would I were away.
Heart Shadows.
In a richly-furnished parlor, its crimson
curtains closely drawn to shut out the
piercing winter night, before a glowing fire,
sat Maurice Greenwood, merchant. Some
what more than fifty years bad written their
record of his life; but his hair was thickly
sprinkled with gray, and his face, with its
deep-set hazel eyes and compressed mouth,
seemed like that of one much older.
That face was one where will was grav
en on every feature, as with a pen of iron
and diamond-point. But some regret, some
lasting shade there was, about brow, and
eyes, and mouth, and Maurice Greenwood
was not happy.
Wealth he had, and every outward
means of happiness, save dear faces, by his
fireside, and tones of home affection.
These he had not; in his palace-like home
he lived alone. >
Ah, there was a shadow on Maurice
Greenwood's hearth and heart; one, too, of
his own making.
His wife slept beneath the green shades
ol the cemetery; and his only daughter, his
beautiful, gentle, true-hearied Annie, was
no longer at bis side. She had kept her
faith with the lover who lacked only gold;
and for this he had banished her from his
home, and tried to banish her image from
his thoughts. But that he could not do.
He knew not where Annie was; whether,
even, she were living or not.
Time passed on, and he became accus
tomed to his lonely life; yet the reirret he
could not banish, embittered every quiet
hour.
. At times, when, as now, hs sat alone by
his deserted fireside, the thought of his
daughter grew so vivid that she seemed to
stand beside him. The white brow, the
radi int wavy hair of golden brown, were
the same; but the blue eyes with a sad,
reproachful look, gazed steadily Into his
own.
Once or twice the illusion had been so
strong that involuntarily he stretched his
arms toward her and called her name, and
his housekeeper, perhaps coming in with
his tea-tray, had found him nearly fainting,
or, as he always answered, "tired."
"I do declare," she said to an intimate
friend, "if he would get his daughter home,
with her husband, and treat her like a fa
ther, how happy the man might be!
Likely enough, they've little children that
would make the old house alive again, and
it's more like a tomb than anything else.
But, dear me, there's no knowing whether
she's alive; wonder if he knows? never can
ask him; it won't do to mention her same;
just set him against her still if that
could be; but I wish I knew! To think I
cradled her on my breast, same as I did
bim before her, and I never thought to see
my boy like this; just making himself
wretched for the sake of worrying his own
flesh and blood."
"Ten years to-day, since Miriam left
me," said Maurice Greenwood to himself.
J was a mild, sunny spring morning,
and opening leaf-buds and a scent of gar
den violets, even in the busy city, brought
glad tidings of that whieh should be. A
sudden impulse came over him to visit
Miriam's grave, and he resolved to ride
out to the cemetery that afternoon.
It was a lovely, shaded spot near the
river, and the early flowers were beginning
to bloom.
Maurice Greenwood stood there alone in
the still glow of sunlight, that wrapped the
"city of the silent" as in God'sgreat peace;
and in those moments a glimpse of a high
er, better life dawned on his soul.
What startled him? What made the
strong man trea ble in every nerve? For
the moment it seemed to him a vision. A
young girl passed with a basket of flowers
on her arm.
He had only a glimpse of her face, but
the golden brown hair lieneath the little
sun-hat, the form, the step and bearing
were Annie's own!
A great hunger sprang up in his heart
and he could not resist the impulse to follow
her. He did so, silently, not to attract her
attention. She did not see him approach,
as she sat on the grass twining a wreath of
the flowers she had brought, and singing a
low, sweet melody; one that Annie loved,
and often sang.
He drew nearer; near enough to read the
inscription on the marble tablet liefore her.
His daughter's name was graven there, and
the man with difficulty repressed a cry of
pain. The young girl turned her head; she
saw him, and sprang to her feet.
"Pardon me, young lady," he said oour
teously, "for my seeming intrusion. She
who lies here was very dear to me; but I
have net seen her these many years, and I
did not know of this."
His manner, his gray hair, and worn, sad
face, reassured her, and she remained
awhile, answering simply and frankly his
inquiries about her father and home She
was the only child his Annie left, and like
ly soon to be quite alone, for her father
was fast failing.
Maurice pondered. What should he do?
Could he tell her that he was her grand
father? Would she not fly from him as
from a savage beast if she should know that
he was the lather who turned her gentle
mother from his heart and heme, and left
her to die in poverty and pain? But she
must know, or he could make no repara-
MILLHEIM, PA.. Til U USD AY, NOVEMBER 25, 1880.
tion. And his good angel told him that
Annie would forget, in kindness shown her
loved ones, even at this late hour, the deep
aud bitter wxong done herself.
"1 have a carriage waiting at the gate/'
he aaid, at least "Will you allow me to
carry you home and see your father!"
But the revelations made there are not
for mortal pen to d iscribe. Wheu he left,
there was peace between them.
It was bul a little time that the sick
man lingered, Maurice doiug all he could
for bis aid and comfort, and he went to his
rest, happy in the assurauce that Grace
Brown should ever hold her mother's place
in the heart and home of the repentant
old man.
This promise Maurice songht earnestly
to fulfil, and though his daughter's pres
ence seemed still conscious at times the
shadow on his heart grew less, and not all
of pain. Yet thoughts of the uureturning
past, regret, softened though it weie, serv
ed lu after years as{a warning, a IK aeon, the
remiuder his impervious will still needed.
Five years have passed since Grace Brown
came to Maurice Greenwood. Her presence
has becomes the sunlight of his home; her
voice the weetest music that meets his
ear: her hand alone rests on his temples
with soothing touch, when sad memories
oppress him; ami even, as she conies near,
the shadows on hearth and heart grow
less.
lie sits musing alone this evening, aud a
shade of troubled thought is on lus brow.
Rarely does he talk to himself, but he feels
lonely now, though Grace Brown has been
away hut one short day.
"Five years.'" he says. "How happy
we have been! And here this girlish faucy
must upset it all. .Why haven't I seen this
before! Why didn't I stop it? I must
have been an old fool to let them go off on
that boating trip to-day? But, if I had re
fused, what then! It would only ptovoke
Frank, and make him more resolute than
ever; and as for Grace, she'd have cried all
day, I suppose. I'm in a pretty plight, I
declare! 1 might have foreseeu it—hut I
didn't—when 1 took Fiank into the office,
and let him come here so much. I don't
want him to have her, he's as poor as Job's
cat —steady and sure, and loves her, no
doubt of that. I'm not afraid she wouldn't
he happy; but I wanted my pet, my pride,
my beauty to take a place befitting her.
But, dear me! if I say say no, slie'll run
away with him, or she'll go and break her
heart, perhaps. They're all alike, these
girls."
A look of intense pain passed over the
old man's face, and he murmured:
"Maybe if I'd been different, Annie
might have been here now—Miriam, too—
who knows? What makes me think of
Annie so to-night, I wonder?" he said,
moving uneasily in his chair. "I wish
those youngsters would come home—l do.
It seems as if she stood by me Ibis blessed
minute. Oh, Anniel Anniel don't look so.
I haven't harmed them!" cried the old man,
ha'f-wild ir his excitement.
"Will you have dinuer now, sir, or wait
for Miss Grace?" asked the housekeeper,
opening the door. "It's past your usual
time."
"Dinner before she corneal Noindeed!"
was the instant reply. "But isn't it time
for her to be home?"
"It is a little late to-night, sir. She'll be
in soon, no doubt,"
' Late!" The old man sprang to his feet
as if his years bad suddenly rolled from
him. "Late!" he repeated, as he hurriedly
glanced at the dock, and then walked ner
vously to the window and back again.
The door-bell rang. An instant after,
Grace's merry voice wound through the en
tries and up the stairs, and iu she came,
radiant with health and happiness, just as
she had parted from him iu the morning.
"Oh, grandpa, such a splendid day we
have hadl" she exclaimed, delightedly
clasping her arms round his neck.
"T hen you have had no accident?"
"No, indeed. What made you think of
that, grandpa? Am I late? Oh, yee, I see."
glancing towards the clock. "We were
talking, and 1 didn't think much about
it."
"Happy child!" thought Maurice Green
wood. "God helping me, I'll Dot break
her heart—one's enough; and the shadow
grew less than ever.
A year went by. Frank Shirley had be
come a junior partner in the firm of Green
wood & Co., and in the old family mansion
a bridal feast was made.
"Abl" thought the housekeeper, as she
heraelf fastened the white dress, and placed
the orange blossoms on Grace's fair brow.
"If I could have done this for Miss Annie!
Well, what's past is past forever, and she's
angel crowned now."
"God bless you, my children!" said the
old man; and the shadow grew light, misty,
and almost disappeared.
Ten years more. Grace had filled Annie's
place; her gentle care and tender affection
making the old man's heart warm, and his
home sunnj'. Her husband had long been
as a dearly-loved son; her children, the little
heart's-ease blossoms that brongbt coinf ;>rt
to his spirit. He is way-worn and weary
now, and the loving friends gathered around
him know that he is passing from them
swiftly, but with pence and trust in his
heart.
For an hour or two he had slumbered
lightly, Grace silting beside him, his hand
clasped in hers, when he opened his eyes,
and, looking at her with a world of affec
tion in their clear, steady gaze, said;
"Grace,darling, I have seen your mother.
She forgave me long ago. In a little while
I shall hold her to my breast again, as 1 did
when she was a babe. She is so beautiful,
Grace, all in white, with a rose crown on
her forehead, and young and bright as you
are now. 1 have tried to make you happy,
dear—kiss me!" And as Grace bent her
face, dripping with tears, to his, the failing
hand caressed her golden hair, as it had
btn wont, and he spoke once more, feebly;
"The shadow is gone nowl She stands
there, but it is all glory—Annie?"
"What does he mean? What shadow?"
whispered Grace's husband. But she raised
her head, slightly.
"Hush, dear—see—he is gone!"
Japaneae Paper Alr-Cuahlon.
Japanese paper air-cushions are said to
have some advantages over those made of
rubber. They may be rolled into a pack
age of smaller dimensions when not in use;
they will not stick together as rubber does
after it is wet, and for pillows they are bet
ter because they have no odor. Their
strength is very great; a man weighing
160 pounds may stand upon one without
bursting it. They are said to be water
proof, and to make excellent life-preserv
ers.
SUS SfuU.
Ouoe in about eleven years, the suu
completes a spot cyole. its commencement
is marked by a period ot great solar activ
ity, wheu spots for two or three years are
numerous and large upon its large surface.
These gradually disappear, and the suu
remaius more or less quiescent during the
remainder of the time. A new spot-cycle
is now in full action. Portions of the
huge bluziug surface of the sua are dotted
with spots. They throng t:.e solar terri
tories, appearing in rows, or groups, or
more frequently the large spots are sur
rounded by families of small ones. They
are of euormous dimensions. Some arc so
large that our whole globe might rolled
into the seeming cavern, and our largest
continents would not cover others, while
many are so small that they can he seen
only by telescopes of high power. Some of
these spots will continue for mouths, others
will quickly disappear, and others will
bruak into small ones, which new onus will
more than fill the deserted places, and give
variety to the ever-changing exhibition.
Suu spots, seen through the telescope, pre
sent a very curious appearaiice; The central
part, or umbra, is black, the border, or
penumbra, is usually of a grayish tint;
and, surrounding the spots lor thousands
of miles, the sun's surface seems to be piled
into ridges, dotted * with groups of small
shining spots, called faculte. from a Latin
word n.eaniug 4 'small torches." The wisest
astrouomers cannot tell with certainty the
cause oi suu spots, or give a reason for the
occurrence of the outbreak once in eleven
ytars. it is well-established that there Is
au intimate relation between sun spots aud
terreslial magnetism. It is strongly af
firmed|that the disturbed condition of the
sun at this period is reflected ou the earth
iu uortbern lights, waves of intense heat,
aud storms of unusual severity. The de
vastiug tornadoes and cyclones at the west,
and the display of auroral light in the
Scottish skies, lend their aid to support
this theory. A fascinating field of obser
vation is thus laid open before intelligent
observers. Three things are to be watched
for, the occurrence of great storms, the ap
proach of a heat wave, and the appearance
of the northern lights. Clear-headed ob
servers can work at these problems, even
if they are not trained astronomers; for, if
ever the cause of sun spots and the reason
of their jieriodicity are made ciear, the
work will he accomplished by close and
long-continued observation.
Not Generally Known.
Keys were originally made of wood, and
the earliest forui was a simple crook similar
to the common picklock. The ancient
keys are mostly of bronze, and ot remark
able shape, the shaft terminating on one
side by the wards, on the other by a ring.
Keys of this description were presented by
husbands to wives, and were returned again
upon divorce or separation.
Hats were first made by a Swiss at
Paris, 1404 A. D. They are mentioned in
history at the period when Charles VJI.
made his triumphal entry into Rouen, in
1449. He wore a hat lined with red vel
vet, ami surmounted with a rich plume of
feathers. It is from this reign that hats
and caps are dated, which henceforth lie
gan to take place of the chaperons and
hoods that had been worn before in France.
Previous to the year 1510 the men and
women of England wore close-knit woolen
caps.
The custom of crowning the poets origi
nated among the Greeks, and was adopted
by the Romans during the empire. It was
revived in the twelth century by the em
peror of Germany, who invented the title
of poet laureate. The French had royal
poets, hut no laureates. The title existed
in Spain, but little is known of those who
bore it. The tradition concerning the lau
reate in England is that Edward 111., in
1367. emulating the crowning of Petrarch
at Rome, in 1341, granted the office to
Chaucer with a yearly pension. In 1630
the laureate was made a patent office.
From that time there has been a regular
succession of laureates.
Until the close of the eighteenth century
the finest muslins in use were imported
from India. The earliest mention of cot
ton among the classic nations of antiquity
is by Herodotus, who speaks of it by the
name of tree-wool, which name it still
bears in German and several other conti
nental languages. Cotton was not known
in Egypt until about 600 years before
Christ. Then it appears probable that it
was imported, for all the cloths found en
velopiug the mummies of earlier ages have
proved on examination to be linen. Cot
ton cloths are mentioned as having been
imported into London in 1596, the knowl
edge of both the culture and manufacture
having probably been conveyed there by
the Moors and other Mohammedan nations.
The former were the means of first bring
ing this manufacture iDto Europe.
She Kept the Secret.
Mrs. See, an old woman living on the
Bedford lioad, about two miles from the
Tarry town depot, tells a pictureque tale of
succeeding events to the capture of Major
Andre. Mrs. See, familiarly known as
"Aunt Betsy," says that a party of "Skin
ners" with their prisoner went directly to
"Mug Tavern," near White Plains—a hos
telry presided over by Aunt Polly Reed.
Strange to say—considering her sex—Aunt
Polly was notorious for her curiosity and
inability to keep a secret. While ham and
eggs were sizzling in the pan for the hun
gry "Skinners," Aunt Polly was struggling
to ascertain the identity of the melancholy
young stranger who was so handsomely
clothed in a blue overcoat, claret-colored
coat, and nankeen waistcoat and breeches.
Finally Pauld : ng seized her by the wrist
and drew her close to him.
"Can you keep a secret?"
"Yes," stammered the old woman with
hardly suppressed eagerness.
"We've got a British spy."
In three minutes the old woman had in
trusted household cares to her girl, saddled
her white horse, and was galloping to the
next house, in a place then called "Twitch
ing." But the fences and brush proved an
obstacle, and Aunt P >lly was forced to
make a long detour by the road. The
"Skinners" finished their meal and de
parted, making a straight cut across the
country toward "Twitching." As they
approached the house they caught sieht of
Aunt Polly flying up the road on her white
horse, daylight showing between herself
and the saddle at every leap. Her hair
streamed out behind. In one hand she
swung her huge poke bonnet by the strings,
while she shrieked in a shrill, quavering
voice, "They've got the spy! They've
got the spy 1"
A roanil the Olobt.
"That Is my man in th corner of the
car."
"What, that well-mannered individual
with handcuffs on ?"
"Yes, he is the man. and I doubt if
ever a fugitive gave au officer a longer
chase."
Tbe above conversation occurred recent
ly oi the incoming passeuger train on the
Atoiiison, Topeka and Santa Fe Road, be
tween one of Pinkerton'a shrewdest detec
tives and a reporter who boarded the train
at Lawrence. No one, to look at tbe de
tective casually, would take him for the
human sleuth-hound that he is, but a sc
ixmd glauee at his face, and a look from
his cold gray eyes works wonders, and it is
seen that he is "up to snuff."
The man h had in custody was Ran
som, formerly the trusted cashier of a
prominent wholesale silk house in New
York, who in June, 1879, embezzled over
$200,000 from the safe of bis employers
and took passage for Europe. A clue to
his whereabouts was ascertained soon after
his flight, and when he reached New York
recently, it can be truly said that he has
been chased around the world.
"Is he such a desperate man that you
must needs havo him handcuffed?"
"He escaped occe from an officer by
jumping from a passenger train, and 1
don't want him to do so again."
"Have you any objections to telling
some of the man's wanderings?"
"No, not at all; hut hec&u do it bet
ter."
The prisoner was then introduced, and
on his going into an apartment of the sleep
lug car the "darbies ' were taken from his
wrists, and his story was as follows:
"The causes which led to my leaving
New York need not be told; suffice it that
a woman had something to do with it, and
when 1 boarded tbe Bothnia on Saturday
in June of last year I thought I was going
away forever. My identity was carefully
protected while on the water, as I pretend-,
ed to he a cripple and always appeared on
deck with a cane. On landing in the old
country I went directly to London and ds
posiied certain funds at a well-known
banking house, and settled myself to await
quietly the arrival of a 'friend' from Amer
ica. Mv hoarding house was not far from
the celebrated 'Scotland Yard, and one day
in August 1 ran across a little notice in a
paper which stated that I was supposed to
be in London, and that the detectives were
on my trail. This startled me at first, and
after waiting six weeks I left for Fans, in
tending to remain there awhile. In cross
ing the channel 1 saw a family I had known
in New York, and (lid not dare go to Pans,
so waited a day or two and then went to
Spain, but as I could not speak Spanish,
made my way to Greece, where my French
enabled me to get along.
"Did I have much money? Yes, I had
quite a large sum, hut the idea that I took
$200,000 with me on leaving New York is
ridiculous. Most of the money was lout in
Wall street; but to go on with my story.
At Athens I met a young Englishman who
was traveling for pleauire, and we deter
mined to visit Egypt, to which country we
went in November last. All this time I
was afraid of my shadow almost, and after
stopping several weeks at Cairo took pas
sage for Bombay byway of the Suez Canal
alone. It was dreadfully lonesome, .his
going about alone, and but few Americans
were met with. From Bombay I went to
Hong Kong, and then foolishly decided to
return to America, and took passage on an
Oriental steamship for San Francisco. 1
was a fool for doing it, but the longing
came over me and I could not do other
wise.
"At San Francisco I did another foolish
thing by writing a letter to a fnend in New
Y'ork, which fell into Pinkerton's hands,
and he at once sent Mr. H&lcomb, who
now has me In charge, out after me. Be
fore he arrived, however, I was arrested,
but escaped and fled into Arizona, but was
again captured at Prescott, and here I am.
I'm glad I'm going back to New York, as
the life I have led during the past fifteen
months was killing me."
As the story was finished, the train was
entering Kansas City, and the reporter ac
companied the officer and his prisoner to
the dining-room at the depot for supper.
Ransom was not handcuffed, but the
officer never allowed him to-leave his side,
and when the train on the Wabash, St.
Louis and Pacific Road left for the East the
two men occupied a section in a Pullman
oar. The prisoner realized that he must
suffer for the crime, and told the officer he
expected to get ten years in Sing Sing.
When arrested he had drafts and cash on
his person to the amount of about SIO,OOO,
and was traveling under the name of Wil
liam Allison.
Wurteraberg.
The house of Wurtetnberg, it is said, de
rives its name from the following legend:
A poor burgher fell in love with the daugh
ter of the Emperor ot Austria, and, as the
two young people saw no prospect of ob
taining the imperial oonsent to the union,
they fled together into Suabia, where they
bought a small piece of land, and estab.ish
ed an inn. It stood at the foot of a moun
tain, and its possessor therefore went by
the name of "Wirt am Berg" or the "Land
lord at the Mountain." One day the Em
peror was traveling to Frankfort, and
stopped on bis way at his daughter's house
witnout recognizing her. She knew him
directly, and persuaded her husband to
make himself known to the Emperor, and
to beg his forgiveness. Accordingly, taking
their little son, they all fell at his feet,
entreating his pardon, which he willingly
granted. Moreover, the Emperor created
his son-in-law a Duke; but in memory of
this occurence he was to keep his name
"Wirt am Berg," which subsequently be
came Wurtemberg.
When to £at Fruit.
The Spanish proverb has it: "Fruit is
golden in the morning, silver at noon, but
lead at night." Americans do not seem to
have heard of this proverb, nor to have
made one from their own experience.
Mostly they eat fruit at night, and hence
have not the sovereign idea of it that they
would have if they had eaten it at more
proper times. They eat it as a dessert at
dinner. This may be the most proper time
to eat dried fruits, but it is not the right
time to eat the jaicy ones. The Spanish
people learned their proverb from eating
the very juicy fruits, like oranges. These
should be eaten in the morning, a little be
fore breakfast —not later than noon. Ear
ly in the day they will, if eaten, prove to
be the best possible medicine for the bil
ious.
Itromlay as a Book AfMU.
Bromley had hut just left college and
was hesitating us to what to do when the
euterprising publisher of "The History of
the World'* persuaded him to take a trip
to New Brunswick to introduce the work.
After some hesitation, Bromley acceded
and started on his journey. The day after
his arrival he sallied forth from his hotel
to commence his canvass, but for a long
while hesitated as to where to begin. By
and by, he spied a clerical looking person
very neat in appearance and dignified de
meanor. sitting on a front step. Ap
proaching him Bromley introduced himself
as introducing "The History of the
World."
"Pleased to meet you. Take a seat,"
said, the stranger. "What have you to
say about the book?"
Much encouraged at the kiDtlly reception
Bromley began his story, in which he hod
been carefully instructed on leaving home,
to the effect that the hook was "the his
tory of the world, from the creation down
to the present year, 18—: em
bracing full and complete descrip
tions of Eden, the world before the deluge
tbe fiood itself, the rise, progress, and fall
of the Grecian and Roman Empires, with
much information concerning other nations
of antiquity prior to the birth of Christ;
the rise and progress of Christianity, con
version of Constantine, growth of the
Papacy, Crusades, the thirty years'
war, the American revolution, the French
revolution, the Mexican war, the great ex
hibition, the voyages and fate of Sir John
Franklin, a full exposition of the Roches
ter knockings, tbe loss of the Arctic, &c.,
Ac., all in one magnificent octavo, half
turkey morocco, ot several hundred pages,
all at the low price of five dollars "
Here the new solicitor paused for breath.
"Any illustrations?" said Ihe stranger.
"Pictures? 1 shot'ld say so. There are
steel plates by the dozen, lithographs by
the hundred, and wood cuts by the thou
sand. "
"Portraits or landscapes?" was the next
query.
"Both, sir, and everything else on earth
or in the waters under the earth. There
are likenesses of Adam, Eve, Noah, Moses,
Potiphar's wife, Daniel, liosea, Belzebub
and all the other old s&mta, besides Na
poleon, George Washington, Zack. Taylor,
Frank Pierce, Henrietta Robinson, the
veiled murderess, P. T. Barnum, and in
numerable others, besides engravings from
drawings by our own artists, engaged at
an enormous expense in every section of
the globe. AuiODg these are views of the
garden of Eden, crossing of the Red sea,
tomb of Semir&mis, seven wonders of the
world, ancient Egyptian methods of plow
ing, Italian races, Daniel in the lion's den,
battle fields of Bunker Hill, Waterloo and
Buena Vista, the open Polar sea, bay and
city of New York by moon light, &c."
"Well," said the stranger, "that must
certainly be a remarkable work."
"Yes," said Bromley, "I should say so.
Of course you will subscribe for a copy."
"Subscribe, oh, no. I don't want the
book. I let you go on because 1 used to
canvass for it myself, and I just wanted to
see whether you knew your lesson. You
will do pretty wsll, though you forgot
some things, hut you made qp for that by
putting in a good many that are not m.
But you forgot to say anything about any
of the pictures being colored. Those
bright colors always take with the women
folks. Tnat's what makes Fox's book of
Martyr's go so. But after you have had
ninety people say 'No,' and been kicked
down stairs half a dozen times, you will
learn how. Good day." And, with this,
the clerioal-looking party went inside and
slammed the door.
Bromley gazed at the closed door a few
moments, and then turned end went to his
hotel meditat ng. He stayed in New
Brunswick two weeks longer, but did not
essay any further canvas until he received
a letter from the publisher, expressing sur
prise and regret at not hearing from his
new agent, save by drafts for expenses.
This caused Bromley to make another ef
fort, and he gave a day to steady canvass
ing, without auy success till near sundown.
By this hour ne had got well out into,
country, when in the centre of a large lot,
remote from any neighbors, he saw a car
penter at work on the roof of a new house.
Ascertaining that no one was near, Bromley
approched the house, ascended the ladder
and accosted the workman with, "Do you
want 'the History of the World,' from—*''
"No!" interrupted the man sharply.
Bromley was mad at last. And looking al
the carpenter for a moment, he resumed,
"Look here! You've got to buy the hook."
"What do you mean?" "I mean just this;
That I came from Connecticut to New
Biunswick to sell this work, I have been
here two weeks aDd have not sold a copy.
I am going back to-morrow, and you are
the last man I shall speak to about it, but
you've got to subscribe. We are alone on
this roof. lam bigger than you, and I
have got control of this ladder!" The car
penter surveyed the situation for a moment
and saw that Bromley held the key of the
position, aDd that there was no escape, as
nobody else was in hearing and the ladder
was the only means of aocess to the roof.
Hence he said quietly, "Where shall I
sign?" "There," said Bromley, handing
him a blank book. The man signed and
then said, "How much?" "Five dollars."
"There it is," handing over the amount.
"All right; you shall have the book in a
few days." "All right." "Good day."
"Good day." "Don't trouble your
self to come nere again." "Never."
With this Bromley went down
the ladder, went. o his hotel, packed his
valise, and started home that night.
Cultivation of Hops,
It was during the reign of Henry VIIL
that hops were first raised in England.
Now nearly 64,000 acres are devoted to
their production there; 40,000 acres in
Kent, and most of the remainder in Sussex,
Hereford, and Hampshire. The chief crop
in Amerca is raked on the Pacific slope;
the amount gathered there this season
reaching from 120,000 to 180.000 bales.
American hops, however, are not consider
ed as good in quality as those of Europe,
having a peculiarly rank flavor, the result
of imperfect cultivation. Bavarian hops
are the best and properly give the fame to
the celebrated beer known by that name.
With the increase ii\ the manufacture of
lager beer the increase in growing hops
has become enormous, and their cultivation
in perteotion for the various uses to which
they can be applied as an article of daily
consumption, as well as In a medicinal
point of view, demands the attention of
our people.
Th Dtoil Rapid TraTtllng on Rord.
A genuine Arkaosian lives at Oonwaj.
You couldn't induce him to make a mis
statement. It to said that if his life de
pended on telling a lie be would scorn the
idea. During a long life he has treasured
up little bits of truth. One of these truths
he keeps for Saturday purposes. Last
Saturday when the usual party had gather
ed in front of the store, the truthful man
remarked:
"Well, boss, talking about rapid travel
ing, I'll give you a little of my experi
ence. "
"There it comes," said a man who had
heard it before. "What is your experi
ence?"
"Several years ago a lot of us boys went
up the railroad after muscadines. We
went on a railroad engine, and traveled
about 70 miles an hour going up. After
we got there we were all drunk. But it
was coming back that we traveled."
"How fast did you run?"
"You see, the engineer got so drunk
that we had to lay him out. I stepped
up to the blamed thing and pulled her
wide open. 1 don't really like to tell you
how fast the thing did run."
"Oh, yes, tell us."
"Well, as certain as I am living, she run
so fast that she didn't touch the track only
in high places. Sometimes she'd fly over
the tops of the high trees, and then tip the
track on the top of a high grade. All the
boys but me fell off when the engine
struck a tree, and creaned a little. I
would have fallen if I hadn't secured a hold
on the tender. My pants went off, then
my shirt, drawers and socks. One by one
my toe nails were popped off by the
wind."
"Didn't it kill you?"
"No, everything finally came out all
right. The engine stopped at the depot,
drew a long breath, and whistled so loud
that the biakeman on a train over one hun
dred miles away put on brakes."
Ltanlnf Towers.
The most remarkable leaning tower in
Great Britain is that of the Caerphilly Cas
tle, Glamorganshire. Being between seventy
and eigh.y feet high, it is eleven feet out
oi perpend icular. The castle of which the
tower tortus a part was built about 1221,
and the canting of the tower is said to have
been caused by an explosion of hot liquid
metal used by the occupants of the castle
to pour on the heads of their enemies at a
siege which took place in 1226. There art
also leaning towers at Bridgenorth Castle,
in Shropshire, and at Corfe Castle, in Dor
setshire both caused by the use of gunpow
der during the civil war between King
Charles and his parliament. Of churches
with crooked spires, the most noteworthy
is the famous one at Chesterfleki, in Derby
shire. It leans six feet toward the south,
and four feet four inches toward the west,
and its height is 230 feet. So peculiar is
the distorted appearance of this steeple that
it is said to appear to be failing toward the
spectator irom whatever point he ap
proaches it. There are several traditions
extant respecting this singular architectural
deformity. One is that the br.ilder, a na
tive of Cneeterheld, having agreed to erect
a church, did so, finishing the tower with
out adding a spire. The anthbrities of the
town, not being satisfied with the struc
ture, appealed to the Attorney-General,
who gave his opinion that the spire was as
much a part of the church as the tower,
and that consequently the builder must
finish his contract by its addition. The
subject was, however, fully discussed at a
meeting of the Institute of British Archi
tects in January, 1856, and it wps ascer
tained that the oak planks on which the
framework on which the spires rests, are
much decayed on one side, which is suffi
cient to cause the divergence from the per
pendicular. The timbers also have the
appearance of having been used in a green
and unsound condition. The action of the
sun upon the spire would therefore cause
it to become crooked, and this may ac
count for its distortion without attributing
it to design.
Tbe Value of Wire*.
The value of wives vanes in different
countries. In Amerioa they are often ex
pensive companions, but in the higher re
gions of the River Amar, and on the Ussu
ii, in Siberia, aocording to information
furnished to the British Scientic Associa
tion by the Rev. Henry Lansdell, the prioe
of a wife is eight or ten dogs, a sledge, or
two cases of brandv. In another part of
the world, accordihg to evidence furniahed
to the same association by Wilfred Pow
ell, in New Britain and the neighboring is
lands on the east coast of Guinea, the Wivea
are the absolute property of their husbands,
and are bought, sold and eaten by their
better halves. There was one New Brit
ain young woman who had rebelled at her
matrimonial relations, whereupon her hus
band said he could put her to better use,
and straightway killed and ate her. Un
fortunately, according to the same authori
ty, the eating in New Britain is not
confined to wives. The natives are fond
of missionary meat, and think the Eng
lish are unuiteiably itupid because they
are unwilling to feast on such a delicacy
as the human thigh, prepared in cocoanut
milk and dressed in banana leaves. Mr.
Powell does not advise women to emigrate
to New Britain.
Tbe German Census.
The next census of tho German empire
will be taken on the Ist of December next.
It is estimated that the returns, when made
up, wiil show an increase of from five to ten
per cent, in the population. At the last
enumeration, in 1875, the German nation
was fouad to number 42,750,000 souls. The
Kingdom of Prussia, with a population of
about 25,750,000, possesses nine universities
and two other institutions which are uni
veraites in almost all but name. In these
eleven institutions, including the universi
ties of Berlin, Breslau, Gottingen, Bonn,
Hall, Konisberg, Greifswald, Marburg, and
Kiel, the academy of Minister, and lyceum
of Braunsberg, there was a staff of profes
sors and lecturers numbering altogether
958, while their auditors exceeded 10,000
in number, the matriculated students alone
being 9,663 strong in the last summer ses
sion- Berlin remains far the most fre
quented of all the Prussian, and, indeed, of
all the German universities.
We are firm believers in the maxim
that, for all right judgement of any
man or thing, it is useful, nay, essen
tial, to see his - good qualities before
pronouncing on his bad
NO. 47