Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, January 13, 1881, Image 1

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    VOL. LV.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF
BELLEFONTE.
C. T. Alexander. O. M. bower.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office in German's new tmtldlug.
JOHN B. LiNN,
ATTORNEY AT LA W,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
OLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
YOCUYI & HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLE* ONTE, PA.
High street, opposite First National Bank.
Yy r M. c. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, FA.
Praet'ce* in all the courtp of centre County.
Spec at attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
F. READER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
All bus ness promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
OEAVEK & GEPHARf, ,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
4
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Woodrlng's Block, Opposite Court
Home.
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA,
Consultation* In English or German. Office
in Lyons BuUdlng, Allegheny Street.
JOHN G. LOVE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
omce In the rooms rormerly occupied by the
late w. p. Wilson.
BUSINESS CARDS OF MILLIIEIM, &.
Q A. STUKGIS,
DEALER IX
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, Silverware, Ac. Re
pairing neatly and promptly done and war
ranted. Main Street, opposite Bank, Milihelm,
Pa.
O DEININGER,
XOTARY PUBLIC.
SCUBNER AND CONVEYANCER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
All haziness entrusted to hlra, such as writing
and acknowledging Deeds, Morlgages, Relent s,
ac.. will be executed with neatness and dis
patch. Office on Main Street.
XT H. TOMLIXSON,
DEALER IX
ALL KINDS OF
Groceries. Notions, Drugs. Tobaccos, Cigars.
Fine Confectlouetles and everything ih the line
or ahrst-class Grocery stjre.
Country Produce taken In exchange for goods.
Main St.eet, opposite bank, Ml lhelin. Pa.
I. BKOWX,
MANUFACTURER AND DEALER.IN
TINWARE. STOVEPIPES, AC.,
SPOUTING A SPECIALTY.
Shop on Main Street, two h uses east of Bank,
Mlllhelm, Penna.
J EI SEN IILTII,
' JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
MILLIIEIM, FA.
All business promptly attended to.
collection of claims a specialty.
Office opposite Eisenhuth's Drug Store.
JYJUSSER & SMITH,
DEALERS IN
Hardware, Stoves, Oils, Paints, Glass, Wa
Paper?, Coach Trimmings, and Saddlery Ware.
*c,. Ac.
All grades of Patent Wheels,
corner of Main and Penn street-, Mlllhelm,
Penna.
¥ A COB WOLF,
FASHIONABLE TAILOR,
AIILLHEIM, FA.
Cutting a Specialty.
ihop next door to Journal Book Store.
TyjiLLUEIM BANKING CO.,
MAI* STREET,
MILLHEIM, PA
A WALTER, Cashier. DAV. KRAPs, Pres.
HARTER,
AIJ€TIO*EEK,
REBER3BURU, PA.
jattsiactlOQ Guaranteed.
IF THE WIND RISE.
An open sea, a gallant breeto,
That drives our little boat-
How fast eaob wave about us dors ;
How fast tne low clouds float!
44 We 11 never see the morumg skie*
If ilio wind rise;"
" If the wind rise,
We 11 hear uo more of earthly lies."
The moon from tirno to time breaks out
And s Ivors all the sea ;
The billows toss tho waves about,
Tne little boat oaps free.
44 We 11 never see our true love's eyes
If the wind rise
" If the wind rise,
We'll waste uo more our foolish sighs."
•She takes a dash of foaui before,
A dash of spray behind ;
Tie woltish waves about her roar,
Aud gallop with the wind.
" We'll see uo more the wocdlaud dyes.
If the wind rise
"If the wind nso.
We'll hear the last of human cries."
The sky seems bending lower down,
Aud swift, r sweeps the gale ;
Our craft she shakes from heel to crown.
And uips her fragile sail.
44 We may forgive our enemies,
If the wind rise
41 If the wind rise.
Weil sup this night iu Paradise." a
Saved by Ma'ches.
A siuall room, poorly furnished; a pot
of mignonette in the window; a girl at
work at the table, sewing steadily. She
would have been pretty if she had not been
so poor. ] f she had been better fed. she
would have had a rosy cheek; if she had
had freedom and less labor, she would have
had dimples; if she had worn a dress of
violet silk, instead of faded calico, it would
have brought out the fairness of her skiu
and the golden hue of her hair. As it was,
Alice Morne was pale, and pinched, and
sad, with the sewing-girl's stoop of shoul
ders, and the sewing-girl's heavy heart.
She rose suddenly and folded up her
work —a child's garmeut, of tine cambric,
trimmed with dainty lace. She made a
package of it, donned her bonnet and
shawl, and went out of her lodging-house.
She threaded the commercial streets
rapidly, and 9oou emerged on the avenues
of wealthy private residences. Here it
was quieter. The dusk was gathering.
Mow and then a carriage rolled by. One
or two stately houses were lighted foi re
ceptions. Mauy more were somberly
closed. Alice went on, with her quiet,
rapid step.
She stopped at last before a house all in
a blaze of light. Costly lace curtains con
cealed the luxurious rooms within; the
soft notes of a piano came softly upon the
girl's ear.
"The Tracys give another party to
night," said Alice.
She went into the area and rang the bell.
A servant, admitted her. She went in
with her bundle.
She came out with a light step. The
work had been approved, and she had been
paid. A little dazzled with the scene she
had just emerged from, she paused upon
the pavement to count the money.
"Give me a cent," said a little beggar
boy starting somewhere out of the silent
shadows.
"What do you went it for ?" asked
Alice.
"I'm hungry," answered the child. He
was pale and pinched.
"Here's a dime: 1 would give you more
if I could," she Baid.
The child took it eagerly. She passed
on, with less than $2 to buy supper and
pay for a week's rent.
She had more work. When It was fin
ished she came the same way in the dusk.
As she passed over the sidewalk a faint
line of white attracted her attention.
There was a knob of glass, generally
called "bull's eyes," in the pavement. It
is usually inserted over a coal vault, and is
removed to admit the coals. This one had
not been adjusted with exactitude, and at
the crevice appeared a line of white.
Alice stooped down and examined it. It
was the edge of a folded paper.
She drew it out with a wild thought
that it might be some valuable check or
draft. But it contained only a few words,
written in pencil.
"1 have watched for you constantly for a
*eek. If you would save my life come back
here, and all night long place matches where
you found this paper, ioushall be rewarded
with all yon .can a->k. A PRISONER."
Alice closed the paper in her hand and
looked around bewildered. No one was
to be sech. She looked down at the lump
of dull glass, but it was entirely opaque.
The bull's eye was not set quite evenly in j
its place. She touched it with her foot,
but could not move it. After waiting a
moment, confused and in doubt, she passed
on, recollecting her errand.
The area door admitted her. The ser
vant had a child in her arm, the dainty
little thing for whom Alice made gar
ments.
"Mrs. Tracy said you was to come up
to her chamber," said she. "You know
the way."
The lady whom she met was not lovely;
she was sallow and dark; very disagree
able-looking—clutching her cashmere go w n
at the breast, and turning impatiently to
ward tier little sewing-girl.
"Why did you * come before?" she
asked in a hoarse voice, with a slight
French accent. "The child should have
had that dress to drive in to-day."
"1 was sick yesterday; 1 could cot
finish it," unswered Alice, tremulous
y- .
Madame snatched the package, tearing
it open, and letting the little embroidered
robe fall upon the bed.
"Well, here is your money," said she,
opening a velvet purse. "Next time 1
will employ some one who will do as
they r promise/'
Alice turned away with a bursting heart
—for the woman's words meant starvation
for her. She dared not raise her voice in
reply; she divined truly that the heart un
der that rich robe was one of stone.
As she passed down stairs, she heard a
low voice. It proceeded from one of the
rooms about her.
"And he is twenty-one to-day?" it
said.
"Yes; it is three years since his niys
MII.LIIEIM. PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 13. 1881.
terious disappearance," with a sneering
laugh.
The voices were stealthy. A door closed
and shut them in.
Alice passed down into the street.
She walked fast, trcadiug, unthinkingly,
upon the bull's-eye, aud weut home. When
she lluug herself down to weep, she sud
denly felt the crumpled paper in her hand.
What should she do ? She lay thinking
a long time. She considered the strange
ness of the request, the i>oßsilnlity that it
was not meant for her, the idea that it was
a hoax, oi written by some madman —for
it was a man's hand writiug.
But the girl's heart was warm ami true.
The possibility that some one was in
trouble, aud she might help them, was the
thought that had the most weight. With
no one to counsel or object, she obeyed it.
She weut to the store and spent $1 of
her precious money for matches. She re
eeived a large package, containing thou
sands of the little Inciters.
The city clocks were striking nine as she
reached the bull's-eye.
The street was silent, the pavement de
serted. As she bent down, some one tapped
upon the bull's-eye She slipped a sheet
of matches into the crevice. It disap
peared. She waited a few moments; the
hand tupped for more; she supplied them.
As she waited again a pedestrian ap
proached. She lose, and stepped back
into the shadows until he had passed;
otheiwise, she did not fear. The street
was quiet, and she could see the stars
twinkling in the clear sky.
Hour after hour she supplied matches,
at intervals of quarter hours. Occasional
ly the rap came for H I earlier demand. But
she could not see the baud. She only
imagined it to be a man's.
It was long past midnight. The city
clocks were near striking two when her
matches became exhausted. Sue hail uot
been sutliciently supplied, she thought.
at a loss what she ought to do she
rose from her cramped position, standing
in doubt, when a voice said .
%'ome with me!"
She started in terror, for a mau sii*xl
beside her; but the next words reassured
her:
• 4 1l is I whom you gave the matches to;
do not be afraid, but take my urm aud
walk fast, I am not safe here,"
Alice could see only a tall form, and a
pale face, the features of which she could
uot distinguish ; but the voice, though hur
ried, was geutly modulated, and the strang
er took her baud with a grasp that was not
un] ieasant.
4 'You must be tired; but this has been
a good night's work for you, little girl,"
he saul.
"What did you want the matches for?"
asked Alice, trembling.
He had drawn her hand within his own,
and she walked rapidly beside him.
It was the only way in which 1 could
get tire," he answered. "The heat melted
the cement which inclosed the bull's eye in
the wall of my prison, and I escaped
through the cavity. It was larger tlmn
the one in the pavement. I have been a
prisoner in my own house for three years."
As they left the vicinity of the Tracy
dwelling, he walked slower.
"I was quite hepless," he added. 44 1
knew of no one to appeal to whom I could
trust. But listening aud waiting, as a man
only listens and waits for freedom, I grew
familiar with your step as it passed so often
over the bull's eye aud up the steps, and a
week ago, when I beard your voice to that
beggar-boy, I resolved to trust you. I
knew your tread the instant that it touched
the curbstone, and I slipped the paper up
the crevice. Y'ou saw it immediately.
The hour till you came passed heavily;
you were my only ho|>e. Y'ou are a brave,
good child. Now, where is your home?
Can 1 go there for a little rest bet ore day
light ?"
"It is a 'poor place," said Alicb, "but
you are welcome."
Daylight was dawning when she revealed
her poverty-stricken little room to him.
He Hung himself into a chair and dropped
his face on his folded arms upon the table.
Alice fancied that lie was pra} ing, and
moved about noiselessly, preparing a little
breakfast. Bhe did not realize that this
man was young and handsome, and U was
not, perhaps, propriety to have him there.
Bhe was only zealous, in her pity, to serve
him, seeing, by daylight, how ill he
looked.
But by noon there were strange doings
in tlie little sewing-girl's room. She had
been sent for a lawyer, the most renowned
and popular one m the city, uud he came
with two other gentlemen, so grand that
little Alice was quite awe-stricken. Finally,
Mr. Lionel Tracy— was the name of
the hero—went away with them, and she
was left alone with her poverty and iter
wonder. Only she was not quite so help
less aud distressed as she had been, for >ne
of the gentlemen had smiled upon her, and
left a few pieces of gold on her table.
But the marvel was all over with her,
and the gold was spent, and poverty and
labor and care had come back, when, one
day, there whs a knock at the door, and the
landlady's little girl said that a carriage
was standing for her, and a man in wait
ing said that she had been sent for.
What could she do but obey the sum
mons? wondering what fairy work, it was
—that luxurious ride—until she begun to
see through it, for the carriage stopped at
the Tracy mansion.
There had been great public excitement
—the papers had been charged with the
development of the infamous plot in high
life, whereby the true heir of a great for
tune had been drugged, while ill, and con
cealed, and a story trumped up about his
mysterious disappearance; but Alice, in
her solitude, had known nothing about it.
Her pennies went for bread instead of
news. But when she stepped upon the
thrcshhold, Lionel Tracy, the restored mas
ter, met her with a tender eouriesy that
took away all her fear, and made her feel
Jike a little queen iu the midst of the splen
dor.
"Have the rest all gone away ?" she
asked, seeing no one but new servants, and
a pleasant woman who was the housekeper.
"Yes; lam quile alone, and shall be,
unless you will come and live with me,''
said Mr. Lionel Tracy.
"Do you want a sewing-girl?" asked
Alice, innocently.
"No; 1 want a wife, - 'he answered;
"one whom I can love with all my heart,
as Ido you, Alice. Will you come ?"
Hid she ? Well, yes. And the public
had another episode to excite them—the
famous Lionel Tracy's marriage. Alice
grew charming with happiness, and she
was chronicled as a beauty when Bhe be
came hi bride.
PintM of the Chlueae Coat.
Of all the dangers that beset the mariner,
whether it be from storm, fire, or the hid
den reef, none have such tenors for vessels
trading in the Pacific Ocean as the pirates
that infest the Chinese coast. With ordi
nary skill and diligence the former dan
gers may he guarded against, and it is
seldom that some one does not survive to
tell the tale; hut an attack by these pirates
is conducted with such cunning, treachery,
and skill that, if it is successful, it leaves a
mystery far harder to bear than a known
misfortune for those who watch and wait
for the ship that never returns to port.
Every year adds to the list of stately ves
sels and gallant crews that leave port lor
ever, ami are eventually placed among the
"missing " How many of these are cap
tured and destroyed on the China coast
can never be known; their assailants show
no mercy, ami the ocean "tells no tales."
The quaint junks that leave the ,Chinese
ports at uignt-faß are to all appearances
the peaceful tradeis that they profess to
be ; but if an unprotected vessel comes in
view the scene changes as if by magic;
deck-loads of merchandise are thrown into
the holds and cannon take their place; the
crews are inarvclously re inforced by men
who have hidden below, aud the former
lazy coasters glide swiftly along, propelled
not oulv by their sails, but by long and
I>ovverful oars. The doomed vessel is
quickly surrounded by the pirates, and a
cannonade soon brings her masts uud yards
crashing to the deck, its crew may de
fend themselves us well as they can ; but
they are outnumbered fifty to one. Neaier
close the pirates, wuo throw rockets aud
"jingais" that leave an unquenchable fire
and a stupefying smell wherever they fall.
The defense grows more feeble, and now,
running alongside, the pirates board and
slay all of the crew that may survive. By
the busy bauds of the plunderers the cargo
is soon removed, a hole is boarcd under
the waterline of the captured vessel, aud as
the pirates sail away the scuttled vessel
slowly sinks from view, and after weary
mouths of waiting its name is placed on
the list of "missing."
Experiments iu Pre*erviug Wood,
Here is a summary of some valuable ex
periments which have been made with
preserving wood with different mineral
solutions. The tests were made with rail
way sleepers. Of pine sleepers impregnat
ed with chloride of zinc, after twenty-one
years of service, the proportion that had
been renewed was thirty-one per cent; of
beech sleepers impregnated with creosote,
after twenty-two years, forty six per cent,
had been renewed; of oak sleepers not im
pregnated, after seventeen years, forty nine
per rent, had been renewed ; of oak sleep
ers treated with chloride of zinc, at the ex
piration of seventeen years, 20*7 per cent,
had been renewed. In all of these cases,
the conditions to which the wood had been
exposed were very favorable—the road-bed
being a viry gaud one. and permitting of
excellent drainage. Test samples taken
from sleepers that were allowed to retuaiu
at the expiration of tlie respective periods
named, exhibited a perfectly sound cross
section. The follow ing > tatemeut contains
the results of a similar set of observations
made upon the Kaiser-Ferdinands Nord
Railroad, viz. : According to these obser
vations, the proportion of renewals was,
w iili oak sleepers (uot treated) after twelve
years' tervice 74.48 per cent; with oak
sleepers, treated with chloride of zinc,
after seven yeais, 3.29 jer cent; with oak
sleepers, impregnated with creosote oil,
after sixty years, 0.09 per cent; with pine
sleepers, impregnated with chloride of
zinc, after seven years ot service, 4.46 per
cent. The practice of the Kaiser-Ferdi
uauds-Nord Railroad, since the year 1870,
has been to employ only oak for sleepers,
which are impregnated either with chloride
of zinc or with creosote oil.
Halt* In Food.
Experiments recently made with the
inuiganic constituents of food show that,
although the salts to a great extent retained
and used over, a certain amount of the
same is excreted. Consequently, when
salts are withheld from the food, the whole
body, but especially those parts actively
changing—like blood and muscle—become
gradually poorer in salts ami richer in
albumen; but, though the total quantity
in the Ixxiy is lessened, the mixture of salts
hi the tissues and juices is unchanged.
The diminution of salts in the muscles
causes muscular exhaustion —and, in the
nerves, first excitability, and then paralysis
of the nerve centres. It also appears, from
these expeiintents, that the quantity of
salts really necessary iu food is less ihau
has usually bceu supposed.
I'ollMlilng the Crockery.
A drummer, who had never dined any
where hut at a table d'hote, is invited to
diue with one of his most important cus
tomers —who is no end of a swell.
The soup being removed and a clean
plate placed before our drummer, he in
stinctively brushes its surface clean with his
napkin.
The host nods severely to the servant,
who removes the plate and substitutes an
other one, which is similarly wiped off and
removed, and so on.
At the sixth renewal the drummer says
confidentially to his neighbor:
"Say, does the old stem-winder expect
me to iH)lish all his crockery for hind"
KffVct.of Light.
A tadpole confined in darkness would
never become a frog; and an infant deprived
jof Heaven's free light will only grow into
a shapeless idiot, instead of a reasonable
being. There is in all places a marked
difference in the healthiness of houses ac
cording to their aspect in regard to the sun,
uud those are decidediy the healthiest,
other things being equal, in which all
the rooms are, during some part of the day
fully exposed to direct light. Epidemics
attack inhabitants on the shady side of the
street, and totally exempt those on the
other side ; and even in epidemics such as
ague the morbid influence is often thus
partial in its labors.
—Lt costs $40,000,000 to pick the cot
ton crop the country,
—The South Carolina sta'e library
contains 28,000 volumes.
—There are 14,652 more females thau
males in South Carolina.
—Germany annually consume- 7,300-
000 tons of rye; the staple food of the
working classes being rye bread.
A Hallway lit the Rooky Mouutam*.
For miles the extension of the Dccvc
and Rio Grande Railroad from Conejos
westward to the Ban Juan County curves
among the hills, keeping sight of the plains
! and catchiug frequent glimpses of the vil
lage. Its innumerable windings along the
brows of the hills seemed, in mere wan
tonness, as loth to abandon so beautiful a
region. Almost imperceptibly the foot
hills chunged into mountains and the val
leys deepened into canons, aud winding
; around the point ol one of the mountains
; it found itself overlooking tiie picturesque
valley or canon of Los Finos creek. East
ward was the rounded summit of the great
mountain of Ban Antonio; over the near
est height could be seen the top of Bierra
Blaticu, canopied with perpetual clouds;
iu front were castellated crags, art-like
monuments, ami stupendous precipices.
Having allured the railroad into their
awful fastnesses, tlie mountains seemed de
termined to bailie its further progress But
it was a strong hearted railway, and,
although a little giddy, 1.000 feet above
the stream, it cuts its way through the
crags aud among the monuments aud bears
onward foi miles up the valley. A pro
jecting point, too high for a cut and too
abrupt for a curve, was overcome by a tun
nel. The track layers are now busy at
work laying down the steel rail at a point
a few miles below this tunnel. The grade
is nearly completed for many miles fur
ther. From the present end of the track
for the uext four or five miles along the
giude, the scenery is unsurpassed by any
railroad scenery in North America. En
gineers who have traversed every mile of
mountain railroad in the Union, assert that
it is the finest they have seen. Perched
on the dizzy mountain side, at an altitude
of 9,500 feet above tlie sea—greater than
that of Veta pass—l,ooo feet above the
valley, with baltlemeuted crags rising 500
or t00 feet above, the beholder is enrap
tured with the view. At one point the
canon narrows into an awful gorge, appa
rently but a few yards wide and nearly
1,000 feet iu depth, between almost per
pendicular wails of granite. Here a high
poiut of grauite has to be tunneled, aud in
this tunnel the rock men are ai work drill
ing and blasting to complete the passage,
which is now open to pedestrians. The
frequent explosions of the blasts echo and
re-echo amoug the mountains until they
die away in the distance. Looking down
the valley from the tunnel, the scene y
one never to be forgotten. The lofts
precipices, the distant heights, the fantas
tic monuments, the contrast of the rugged
crags aud the graceful curves of the silvery
stream beneath them, the dark green pines
interspersed with poplar groves, bright
yellow- In their autumnal foliage, that
crown the neighboring summits —height,
depth, distance, aud color —Combine to
coustilute a landscape that is destined
to be painted by thousands of artists,
reproduced agam and agaiu by photogiaph
ers, and to adoru the walls of innumerable
parlors aud galleries of art. Beyoml the
tuuuel for a mile or more the scene is even
more picturesque, though of less extent.
The traveler looks dowu into the gorge ami
sees the stream pluuging iu a succession of
snow-white cascades through narrow cuts
between the perpendicular rocks.
Sllx-rlaij Fur*.
The Russian sable inhabits the forest
clad mountains of Siberia, a desolate, cold,
inhospitable region. The animal is hunted
during the winter and generally- by exiles.
There are various methods of taking the
sable. Great numbers are shot with small
liore rifles; others are trapped in steel
and fall trups, and many takeu in nets
placed over their places of retreat, into
which they are tracked on the snow. Who
can picture to himself, without shuddering,
the case of the condemned sable huuter?
He leaves with heavy heart the last thinly
scattered habitations which border the path
less wilds; a sky of clouds and darkness is
above, bleak mountains and gloomy forests
before him; the recesses of the forests, the
defiles of the mountains must be traversed,
for these are the haunts of the sable. The
cold is below zero, but the fur will prove
the fin-, r. Fatigue and cold exhaust him,
a snow storm overtakes him, the way marks
are lost or forgotten. Provision fails, and
too often he wLo promised to bis expectant
and anxious friends a speedy return is seen
no more. Buch is sable hunting in Siberia,
and such the hapless fate of many an exile,
who perishes in the pursuit of what only
adds to Hie luxuries and superfluities of the
great and wealthy.
The fisher is very similar to the pine
marten in all its habits, but much larger.
Its value or trade price in British Columbia
is from two dollars aud fifty cents to three
dollars per skin. The fisher in full winter
fur makes a far handsomer muff than the
sable.
The fur of the mink is vastly inferior to
either the fisher or marten, being liarsh,
short aud glassy. The habits of the aui
ma', too, are entirely different. The mink
closely resembles the otter in its mode of
life, frequenting streams inland, and rocks,
smali islands and sheltered bays on. tbc
seacoast. It swims with great ease and
swiftness, captures fish, eats mollusks,
crabs and any marine animal that falls iu
its way. On the inland rivers it dives for
and catches great numbers of crayfish, that
abound in almost every stream east and
west of the Cascades. Along tue river
bauks the little heaps of crayfish shells di
rect the Indian to the whereabouts of the
mink, which is generally caught with u
steel trap, baited with fish. The trade
price is about fifty cents per skin.
The ermine of Northwest America is not
worth much. The fur uever grows long
or becomes wlute enough in winter. The
Indians use it for ornamental purposes, and
often wear the skins as a charm, or medi
cine, as they term it. The best ermme
comes from Siberia, Norway and Russia.
The raccoon is widely distributed
throughout North and Northwest America.
Crafty and artful, his life is entirely one
of brigandage. The fur is not very valua
ble, being principally used in making car
riage rugs aud lining inferior cloaks and
coats on the European continent. . About
520,000 skins are sent annually from the
Hudson Bay Company's territories. They
are generally siiot.
The three species of foxes traded by the
Hudson Bay Company are the red, the
cross, and the silver. The silver fox skins
are very valuable, a good skin fetching
readily from forty to fifty dollars; the red
fox is only worth about a twentieth of
that sum.
Country House* In Ireland.
No one can go ißfto society as represented In
the country houses of Ireland, says a Lon
don paper, without being struck by the sin
gular absence of veneer which he will find
there. We do not mean those country
houses inhabited by people who spend their
season regularly in London, and who differ
in no way from the magnates with their
houses in Yorkshire or Bussex, hilt the
bona fide. Irish country houses, whose ow
ners look upon Dublin as their metropolis
and great shopping town, and consider an
occasional month in London as an event to
be classed with the ramble in Switzerland or
the tour in Italy. The visitor to one of
these houses will find no sham—there is
"no deception." His arrival will cause no
Hurry; he will not be kept waiting in the
draw ingroom while the lady of the house
and the girls put fiuishing touches to their
Infamy, it is ten to one that before he has
succeeded iu evoking a sound from the bell
probably broken—one of the young la
dies will herself open the door, and with
welcome beaming from her honest Irish
gray eyes, at once insist on his feeling
himself at home. There will be no false
pride, no attempts to hide defects, or to
make up by brag for poverty. Rather will
fun l>e extracted from the very deficiencies,
and the stranger will at once see that there
is no danger of putting his hosts to confu
sion by demanding what is not to be had.
If there is but one man servant, the host
will not complaiu of the illness or tempo
rary absence of a mythical footman; if the
one man servant is tipsy (a not uncommon
occurrence in the laud of John Jaiueson),
the hostess will not be the least ashamed of
lieing detected assisting the maid to lay the
cloth aud arrange the dinner table.
Hie Heart aa a Machine.
Tue heart is probably the most eflicieut
piece of physical apparatus known. From
a purely mechanical point of view it is
something like eight times as efficient as
'he best steam engine, it may be de
scribed mechanically as little more than a
double force pump furnished with two re
servoirs and two pipes of outflow; and
the main problem of its action is hydrody
natnical. The left ventricle has a capac
ity of alout three ounces; it beats 75 limes
a minute; and the work done in overcom
ing the resistance of the circulating system
is equivalent to lifting the charge of blood
a little short of 10 feet (9.923 ft.) The
average weight of the heart is a little under
ten ounces (9 23 oz.) The daily work of
the left ventricle is, in round number,
ninety foot-tons; adding the work of the
i.ght ventricle, the work of the entire or
gan is nearly one hunched and twenty-five
ioot-tons. The hornly work of the heart
ts accordingly equivalent to lifting itself
twenty thousand feet an hour. An active
mountain climber can average 1,000 feet
of ascent an hour, or one-twentieth the
work of the heart. The prize Alp engine,
4 Bavaria," lifted i.s own weight 2,700 feet
an hour, thus demonstrating only one
eighth the efficiency of the heart. Four
elements have to be considered in estimat
ing the heart's work : the statical pressure
of the blood column equal to the animal's
height, which has to be sustained; the
force consumed in overcoming the inertia
of the blood vessels; the resistance offered
by the capillary vessels; the friction in the
h' art itself. This, it. a state of health, is
kept at its minimum by the lubricated
membrane of the pericardium.
Rainy nam.
The jokes that have been cracked at the
farmer's expense on the employment of
workmen raiuy days, are not so very stale,
and are only objectiouable on the ground
that it is mean to joke on facts. The wish
of the old lady that it might rain nights
and Sundays, so that the hired men could
rest, was a merciful desire. We remember
in our farm days of working for & man
who, if going away for a few days, left or
ders with the foreman that if it rained too
hard to work in the field, to set the boys
cutting bushes. We have seldom known
a farmer who hired men by the month that
did n.t have some filthy barn cellar to
clean out, or tougli, knotty wood to be brok
en to pieces, against a rainy day. Now, in
nothing does the farmer make a more los
ing mistake than in this way of treating
hired men on rainy days. There are cer
tain chores that are necessarily delayed for
such an occasion, such as getting the scaf
folding ready for the hay, repairing the
farm tools in the workshop—every farmer
ought to have a workshop—setting out
plants, etc. But these may be so divided
as to be only the chores of a rainy day, for
the tired men should have the larger part
of the day to rest. It will pay in a season's
work, as they will work with a will when
things drive; they will be better natured,
aud have a respect for the man who thus
treats them, which is no little thing. Then
there are what are termed dull days, when
the farmer does not want to cut grass or
hoe, aud on such days there is enough for
the hired men to do, and they should be
put t > work. At this time ol tne year one
of the most important works for a dull day
is hauling muck into the barnyard. On al
most every farm may be found a muck bed,
but it is often unknown to the farmer. He
should find it out aud draw upon it lavish
ly, as cloudy day work when oxen and men
can work easily. Hauling muck into the
yard for a day, now and then, is worth
more than the best day's haying. Break
up the knotty wood in the early spring,
clear out the barn cellar on a clear, cool
day; but on rainy days remember the hired
men are human.
Cremutlou of the Dead.
Exactly how to dispose of the ashes of
the dead in the most satisfactory manner,
after cremation is accomplished, is still a
question. The ancient practice was to de
posit the ashes in a funeral urn, to be pre
served in a tomb or other sacred place.
This is also the modern custom. But if
tombs are to be required then there is not
much need for cremation, as the corpse may
as well be buried in the tomb without cre
mation. A recent American patent con
sists in providing a parlor bust of the de
ceased, cut in marble, and in making a
hole in the back of the bust, wherein the
ashes are to be deposited after cremation of
the body. A further improvement, sug
gested by one of our lady correspondents,
is to prepare a wet mixture of cements for
the aititicial stone or marble, and sprinkle
the ashes of the deceased into the mixture,
which is then to be cast or pressed into the
form of busts, statuettes or other objects.
In this way various members of a family
might possess enduring purtions of the
departed one.
Rocky Nouutain Muck.
Not loug ago a crowd of men at the of
fice of Judge Morrison, Kokomo, saw the
cold, dead form of a man, roughly habitued
in a suit of miner's clothes, with feet shod
with the rudest boots, lying npon a rough
pine bench, at the morgue. Crossed upon
his breast were the tired hands that had
driven the miner's pick through miles of
the hardest rock, now stilled so reverently
in the sunset that o'ershadows life. It was
all that was left of Rocky Mountain Mack,
the man who had crossed oceans and seas,
whose career of half a century was check
ered and dotted with a strange comming
ling of incidents, and across whose span
the thrills and throbs, the hopes and fears
of staid existence had worked their silent
ebb and flow. McCormick was a miner in
Ten Mile, during the grim winter of 78-D,
before a tree had been felled on the present
site of Kokomo, and here he has remained
ever since, except some weeks ago, when
he went to Granite and became al9o inter
ested in some good claims. Starting from
there a few days ago he had only lust left
the stage when he dropped dead opposite
the Clarendon hotel. The Coroner's jury
rendered a verdict that the deceased oame
to his death from heart disease. Mr.
Beemer, the well known business man of
Robinson, in commenting on the death of
this typical miner, said that he had known
him years ago in the San Juan country,
and was at one time in partnership with
him; that he was gentle as a won.an, gen
erous and charitable to a fault, lie nar
rates that once when Rocky Mountain
Mack and a companion were intoxicated
they both became enraged, and the former
suddenly drew a pistol and inflicted a dan
gerous wound. On becoming sober and
being informed what he had done, lie was
in the most abject sorrow, and reloading
tiie pistol returned to the wounded man<
saying as he handed over the weapon,,
"Jim, 1 shot you, now you shoot me." Of
| course the wounded tnau recognized in him
only the wannest friend, and peremptorily
forbade him. McCormick was for many
years a successful miner in Colorado and
California. He has at several different
times been worth half a million to a million
dollars and upwards, but the final reverse
came, and he died in poverty. He ha
been a frequent visitor to mining fields of
South America and the shores of New
Zealand. He had been a searcher for dia
monds in Australia, but came again to the
rocky hills whose-name he bore and wher
his associates always rendered a warm
greeting. His body hes interred in the Pot
ter's field, but many there be who will re
member with kindly thought the wild and
lonely career of Rocky Mountain Mack.
A Harrowing Tall.
Not long since a Texas man read in
paper that if a string were tied lightly
around the root of a mule's tail it would ,
in cases of colic, give the animal instan
relief. He tried the remedy on one of his
own mules, and the doctors say that the
portion of the tail thus isolated was soon
swelled up bigger then the mule. Th#
Texas mau says the mule turned its hca
and saw his monstrous tai land got alarms
and began to kick. Tb i irst kick drov
the mule's tail away cv but Lb
tail immediately swun f 11 < kand knocke
the mule forward a litt.e—the tail was so
heavy. That made the mule madder'n
ever, and it kicked like fury. That only
gave the tail more momentum, and on its
return it knocked the mule about a rod.
The mr.le looked around and didn't ae
anybody and kicked again. The tail was
there as regular as a pendulum and it came
back like a steamboat running a race. That
time it lifted the mule over the barn-yard
fence. But the mule lit on its feet and
struck out again—game as ever. The tail
fairly laughed as it caught the mule ou
the haunches and drove it down the lane
a mile and a half at every whack. It
looked like destruction to the mule as mule
and tail disappeared in the distance. But
after three or four hours, a returning cloud
of dust was seen, andaoon the mule
emerged therefrom kicki|M| as briskly as
ever—but the tail was tdlafly used up and
gone. Not being able to offer any more
resistance, of course the mule kicxed him •
self back to the starting point. This is
not a campaign lie.
A Ch>ptr on Bald Beads.
A bald-headed man is refined, aud he al
ways shows his skull-sure.
It has never been decided what causes
bald heads, but most people think it is
dan'd rough.
A good novel for bald heads to read —
"The Lost Heir."
What does a bald-hdhded man say to his
comb? We meet to part no more.
Motto for a bald head —Bare aud fur
hare.
However high a position a bald-headed
man holds, he will never comb-dowu la
the world.
The bald-headed man nev ; 4|<*.
Advice to bald-headers—Jofn the In
dians, who are the only successful hair
raisers.
What does every bald-headed man put
upon his head ? His hat. *
You never saw a bald-headed man with
a low forehead.
Shakespeare says: There is a divinity
that shapes our ends.
Bald men are the coolest headed men in
the world. -
Some bald men have heirs.
Out of bit ClutcAen.
There are two sisters in Louisville, liy.,
famous for their wit, and there is also iu
that favored town a gentleman, Col.
"Blank," who lor nearly two generations
has had the reputation of having courted
every heiress in the neighborhood. Oue
of the sisters referred to said to the other
several weeks ago: "If a million dollars
were left to you, what is the first thing you
would do?"
"I should fall upon my knees and pray
the Lord to keep me out of Col. "Blank's''
clutches."
This was repeated to the Colonel, who
waited for revenge. The other day the
witty young woman, leaning on the rail
ing of the piazza at Crab Orchard, saw the
Colonel in the yard below.
"Well, dear me , Colonel," she said, "I
meet you everywhere I go. Can't Igo
anywhere without seeing you?"
"Yes, there is one place," calmly re
plied the Colonel.
"Where is it ? Let me go."
"Well, go home."
NO. 2.