YOL. LY.
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A BOWER,
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ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, FA.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
"YOCUM A HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
High Street, opposite First National Bank,
A HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.
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ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Woodrlng*s Block, Opposite Court
Houie.
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ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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' ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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late w. p. Wilson.
BUSINESS CARDS OF MILLHEIM, A.
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* DEALER 111
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lie WMm BiiWiL
SONG.
She is not fair to outward v aw,
As many mai lens be,
Her loveliness I never knew,
Umil—she smiled on me,
O! then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love—a spring of light f
Cut now her looks ere ooy an 1 cold,
To m:ne they ne'er reply,
And yet I cease not to behold
The love light in her eye ,
Her very frowns are fairer far
lhan smiles of other martens a e.
1 Strange Story.
I was stationed at Agra during the Cabu
disaster m 1841, one of a muse handful of
British troops, left in charge of the wives,
sisters and daughters of the actors in that
most unhappy expedition. And & weary,
heart-breaking time it was. The Lieutenant
Governor, who had prayed aud besought the
Calcutta authorities not to risk the adven
ture, had the worst forebodings for its fate;
and although he did all an able, kindly aud
well mannered man could do to maintain
the spirits of the circle, those who knew
him could read too well what his fears
Wt re. Words could not describe —indeed
it is painful for me even now to recall —
the dreary wretchedness of that fatal
month, during which to tidings came of
the devoted army. Evening after evening
saw the roads crowded by anxious women,
sitting there for hours that they might hear
the first news of those who were dtar to
them, and evening after evening saw them
return in despair. And when at last the
news came that the sole survivor had stag
gered, half alive, back to his countrymen,
with the tidings of the great disaster, the
wail which ascended fiom those heart -
brokon creatures 1 sh til never while 1 Live
forget.
There had beeu a captain iu one of the
native regiments, an old acquaintance of
mine, of the nauieof Donnelly—Jerry Don
nelly, as he was Called by every one. He
was careful to explain to all his friends that
bis name was Jeroms, and not Jeremiah,
although why he so unduly preferred the
saint to the prophet 1 never understood.
Jeny Donnelly, however, he was, and as
strange and eccentric a creature as ever
breathed.
He was a very good looking fellow, and
a first-rate officer, but a careless, rollicking,
half insane mad-cap of a man, with an
lunazidg 110W Ut aphlts, little- adulation or
culture, a great, almost miraculous, talent
for languages, with a soft heart, and an
easy temi>er. It was impossible to make
him angry; and in all circumstances, how
ever unpleasant, he maintained a placid
serenity, which seemed to imply that he
was on intimate terms with Fortune, and
knew the very worst she could do.
Among the other tricks which the fickle
goddess had played him, was that she had
married him. Why he ever married as he
did, no one could imagine. The lady was
neither handsome,clever, nor rich. She was
simply passable as to looks, with the live
liness of good health and youth—a quality
not unapt to develop itself iu vivacity ot
temper when those other attributes dis
appear. But, on same impulse, Jerry Don
nelly had asked her the momentous ques
tion, and nad been favorably answered.
„ A most uncomfortable couple tbey were.
Jerry, from the very first, neglected her—
nt intentionally, I believe, but simply be
cause for the moment he forgot her exist
ence. It never.seemed to him necessary to
alter his former bachelor round in any re
spect; and as the lady had no notion of be
ing neglected, she resented his indifference,
and chalked out a line for herself. It may
be easily supposed that the one was not
adverse to brandy and water, or the other
to gossip and flirtation. They never quar
reled outwardly, but were hardly ever to
gether.
fc>o stood the domestic circle, if such it
could be called, of Capain Donnelly, when
he was ordered on General El phi nst one's -
expedition. His wife would fain have re
maincd at Calcutta, but as all wives were
going to Agra, she for very shame was
obliged to go there also. On the rumors
of disasters she was very indifferent—said
the was sure Jerry would turn up at the
most inconvenient time, and that if he was
happy, she was. When, however, the
tidings were confirmed, and it was certain
that Jerry had perished with his comrades,
a great change came over her. She shut
herself up for months, saw no one, and
went nowhere. And when at the end of
nearly a year she began once more to look
aFthe world, she was a grave, thoughtful,
softened woman. She went up to Calcutta
after that, and 1 never saw her again until
I came home on a furlough in 1857. She
was then living in a pretty place in Som
ersetshire and was known as Mrs. Court
nay, of Braaley Hall.
I met her accidently, but she was very
glad to see me, and explained to me what
I had not heard, that when sh9 arrived at
Calcutta she found that poor Jerry had,
four months before ho left Agra, succeeded
to this place of Branley Hall by the death
of a distant relation. He had previously
made a will leaving her all his worldly
goods, then slender enough, so that in the
end this fine estate had come to her, and a
new name witff it. She asked me to come
down and see her,whirh I did, and learned
more of her history.
Sorrow and prosperity greatly changed
her for the better. Even t her looks had
improved, and Bhe was pleasant, thought
ful, agreeable woman. She had remained
four years in Calcutta before she returned
but had at onoe assumed the name ef
MILLIIEIM, PA., • THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 1881.
Court nay, which was a condition on which
the bequest was made.
"ioukuow, Colonei Hastings, 1 could
not have lost the estate, for what would
poor Jerry buve said when he came back?"
1 thought the woman's Ut ad must have
been affected by her troubles, and said
nothing.
4 4 see you think me deranged, but I
knew he was alive all the time."
"Why,what could have led you to thiuk
sot"
"I saw him, Colonel Hastings. It was
in our old bungi low at Calcutta, about two
years after 1 had gone back. Late in the
eveuing 1 heard a footstep outside which
strangely affected me. I was lying half
asleep, and starting up in a drowsy state,
I heard a voice at the verandah, and, as 1
thought, iuquiriug of my stupid old ualivc
whether I Lved there. The steps then
turned away. I darted to the casement,
and although the figure was clad in the ex
tra irdiuary compound of European and
Asiatic garments, lan sure it was Jerry.
I darted down stairs and rushed out, but
the man had disappeared. The servant
said he was a bad lakir, who wished to get
in the bungalow, but could or would tell
me nothing of what jhe hid said. But I
am quite sure it was Jerry, So I am cer
tain he wiil come back —but you remem
be he never was punctual," she added,
wi a a faiut smile.
1 did not ray to her that if Jerry was
alive she must haue heard of him in some
other way; but I took leave of her, axd
shortly atterwards returned to India.
In 1853, I was appointed to au embassy
to Nepaul, a very striking country, gov
erned by a powerful warlike race. The
first minister or vizier of the country met
us, as is the Nepaulcse fashion, outside the
capital, and we had a very courteous aud
gratifying reception. He is a tall, hand
some nan, with allowing black-beard, aud
conversed with me in Parisian, which 1
spoke flueutly. After our interview, one
of the attendants iuformed me that the
vizier wished to see me alone, aud he ac
cordingly conducted me to au iuner apart
ment. He ordered the attendants to with
draw, and then, in tones ouly 100 familiar,
he exclaimed:
"Well Hastings, my boy, how go the
Plungers ?'•
It was Jerry Donnelly, by all that was
miraculou. . I had observed him staring
earnestly at me during the interview, and
something in his gestures seemed not unfa
miliar to mo, but his flowing board, solemn
air mill OrliMitwt ilrntH. so UIUCh disguised
him, that even when 1 hoard the well re
membered voice, I could scarcely realize
his identify.
'•But what on earth are you doing here,
Jerry," said I, "aud why dou't you go
home to your wife, like a Christian?"
"My wile 1 well that's the whole affair.
You see, she's somebody's else's wite, co
I'm better out of the way; it would be a
pity that poor Sophy should commit big
amy."
"I assure you, you areentltely mistaken.
Airs. Donhelly has not married again."
"Hasn't she, though ?" said he. "Don't
I know better ? Didn't I go to my own
bungalow aud And out that she married
that starched fool Courtnay, when sbe
knew I never could endure him ?"
To his intense astonishment, 1 told him
how the truth wa3, and in return he related
to me his own adventures. He had beeu
carried into Tartary, and there detained
for three years, when he was allowed to
accompany a caravan or body of pilgrims
to Nepaul. Being by that time a proficient
in the language he was taken notice of at
court, but very strictly watched. He ef
fecthd his esbape, however, disguised as a
fakir, and made his way to Calcutta, but
tiuding, as he thought, his wife married
again to a man in his old regiment, he re
turned, was taken into favor, and had
risen to his present distinction.
"Well, I always was a blundering fool
but I went home with a heart so soft to
Sophy, and vowing that I never would
vex her any more with ray vagaries, that
when I heard her called Mrs. Courtnay 1
was turned to stone, and did not care a
rap what came of me, not even to be made
a vizier, which, I assure you. Charl ; e, is
no joke in its way."
"Well, at all events, you must come
home now, and enjoy your good fortune.'
( *I am not sure about that," said he.
"Recollect, she has grown accustomed to
be mistress —1 have gjown accustomed to
be vizier, she won't like to bo contradicted,
and it's a thing I never coi Id bear, and
what I never allowed on any account.Now,
if I went home, would not be mistress,
and, as sure as fate, she would contradict
me. Maybe it is better as it is."
Next morning he sent for me again.
"I have been thinking." he said, of all
that strange story you told me. 1 am all
changed since we parted. I hardly know
myself to be the same man I used to be,
and am not sure that I could treat Sophy
well. But ask her to come out here, and
then she can try. It she likes me in this
outlandish place, I will go home with her;
if we quarrel here, no one will be a bit the
wiser, and I can continue to be dead."
"But," said I, "have you no incum
brances i Perhaps she might object to the
details of your establishment."
"Not a bit," said Jerry; "I have none of
your Easter prejudices; let her come, and
she will find nobody to disturb her."
So she did come, and after livihg in Ne
paul fer two years, brought Jerry back in
triumph to Branley Hall; and such is the
true version of a tale which made B)m§
1 noise in the newspapers a few yea s ago,
An Exclllar Mven:ur.
Father Maloncy, a Utholic missionary,
well known in all pars of Nevada, was
visiting White Pine, reently, and was in
terviewed by a reporteiwho gained from
him material for a long od interesting nar
rative. We publish oneof his adventures,
as well for its thrilling excitement ai te give
au idea of the fatigue arl privations will
ingly undergone by tie men of whom
Father Malouey, is a worthy representa
tive:
"Recently, said the Reverend Father,
"I tried to cross into tuby Valley, just
sixty miles from here, h perform a bap
tism. There is no hous< between here and
there, and I was nevei before over the
same read. I thougut Icould make it by
having an early start, asl had ridden on
several occasions during asl Summer sev
enty-five miles per day collecting funds
for my church. Everyfcing being ready,
my horse was shod, etc, tud 1 started out al
eight o'clock on Monday norning. Every
thing 'went merry as a larriage bell' till 1
came to ihe Cherry Crek summit, where
1 encountered a heavy sow.
"Nothing discouraget. 1 proceeded on
my way feeling well as 'gay as a lark,'
thinking lhat the suow would not be so
deep as I proceeded. Bit instead of get
tiug lighter the snow be-aine deeper aud
deeper. Yet I would uol return, aud was
still under the lmpressim that I could
make Ruby Valley. Baides, I lelt half
ashamed to return, as smh action might
denote cowardice, and cowardice I cannot
tolerate in any oue, muci less in myself.
Ike snow lasted ail day, wo feet deep and
frozen over on top, whith made it more
difficult of travel, as it was uot frozen
strong enough to keep tie horse up, which
at every st'.p went Uowi knee-keep, aud
with much ado at times to extricate him
self.
44 At five o'clock in the evening I found
myself ascending the summit between
Long and liuby Valleys, when I then and
there got into about three feet of snow on
the level. No road was tieu recognizable.
Even the sagebrush wat not to be seen.
The whole region round vas covered with
the deep, deep snow, to a depth of three
feet on the level, and in the drifts six to
ten feet. My horse sunk and fell down
under me. 1 jumped oil and fell down
alongside of kirn.
"imagine my feelings ia such a predica
ment 1 It was snowing it the time, and
the wind was howling terrifically, such as
it is wont to howl in Nevada. All this,
coupled with the night coming on, and
with the dreadiul prospeet of one foot ol
snow more being on the ground before
morning, rendered my situation gloomy
and desolate in the extreme,
4 'My horse, now leg-tired and weary,
and myself cx-equo, I lost all hopes of
escape. The danger, however, seemed to
nerve me up, and in fact It almost made
me mad ; so 1 ploughed through the snow
•is heal i could.
"My horse, which 1 still held by the
reins, jumped up and followed after, and
in halt an hour we found ourselves on com
parative terra fir ma, just fifty yards away,
on a side hill, under a wide spreading piuu
We were sldl standing on two leet of snow.
The wind was high and there was a drizz
ling sleet. 1 had matches in my pocket
in abundance, well secured, and thought
that it would bo a good idea to light a
fire.
4 'lt is very easy to talk about lighting a
a fire, but it was uot easy to do so iu such
a place and under such adverse circuui
stauces. 1 was cold at the lime. My
hands and c oliuug were wet, and even the
bark which 1 pulled off the pine seemed to
be saturated with moisture, and it was im
possible for me to start a fire. I tried and
tried in vain. Match after match was
iguited, and as efteu expired without any
effect, and so I gave it up as a bad job.
"And now no fire, no possibility of pro
ceeding auy further, and not much prosjiect
of reiurmug, as 1 was then thirty-six miles
from home! My horse was tired, and the
average depth of snow over the thirty-six
miles was two feet.
"1 began to th nk seriously on what was to
be done ; yet there was no timo lor think
ing or musing, as something had to be done,
and that immediately. To remain till
jnorn n; under that dismal tree was to al
most certaiuly perish from cold, or if 1 sur
vived the night, there were a thousand to
one chances of slow but sure starvation, as
six inches more of snow would keep me
there forever.
'•Such were my thoughts, when suddenly
1 heai d a hark! It startled, me and I thought
of tSt. Bernaid's dogs in the mountain fast
ness of Switzerland, which saved the lives
of many hundred snow-bound travellers in
the Alps.
4, My joy was great, and I exclaimed to
myself, 'What can this bef Surely some
friendly aid must be near at hand —some
miner's or woodman's cabin must be close
by, for 1 havy heard that familiar bark of
the favored domestic of the miner or wood
man in these isolated and distant regions;
or perhaps an Indian wigwam, which
would afford me covering and shelter for
the night.'
"But my cheering hopes were so n dis
sipated. in vain did 1 look around me for
the smoke and wished-for cabin. No In
dian wigwams or domestic dog greeted niy
view; but, in an instant, like a flash of
lightning, I was surrounded by a pack of
coyotes, six in numbir, which seemed to
dit pu e with mo the mastery of the placo.
Bui nt with any motive or evil aforc
thou:,nt did I disturb their den. 1 had no
love or longing for the spo , and would
have left 1' em alone if tliey had the grace
of letting m a one.
"Appi aeh ag me and my horse, they
bimultauev ~.iy set up a yell, which it
seemed to me penetrated the very skies.
They growled, and howled, and snarled,
and barked, until it seemed as if the lieayens
as well as the woods were swarming with
infuriated, maddened, raging, hun fe rv, de
mon-like coyotes. Cerberus at Pluto's
gates could not open more ferocious. Their
very eye-balls seemed to start from tbeir
sockets!
" 'Good hea T ' as!' I exclaimed, 'What
am Ito do now 1 It was bad enough be
fore, but it is a thousand times worse
now.' There is or can be no exaggeration,
my dear interviewer.
Here the Reverend Father stopped, and
seemed to be deeply moved at the recollec
tion of his past precarious position, and
when he recovered himself, continued:
"No, sir; if I had the graphic pen of
Dickens or of Goldsmith, 1 could not truly
paint or represent to you my position or
; feeling at the time. Ido net believe lam
a coward. 1 was never, even when young,
considered a coward. Yet I felt in much
the same strain of mind as tbe Latin poet
Virgil experienced when he first got a view
of the internal regions, and when he ex
claimed, 4 1 stood amazed; my hair stood
on end, and my voice clung to my Jaws.'
And could you imagine it, sir? They did
not devour me; and here I am, after ail. in
comparatively good strength and spirits
alter my Robinson Crusoe adventure.
"But to return to the wolves. I had no
means of defence. lam now sixteen years
4 roughing it,' as Mark Twain would say,
and 1 never carried with me a pistol or re
volver. I had never till then any need for
one. The only weapon of defence I had
at the time was my razor; 1 always carry
my razor with me when making a journey
of auy length. This 1 secured in a hurry
frcm my saddle-bags, and in a moment, as
Tom Moore would say, 4 my sword, such as
it was, was fleshed to the hilt.' As the
savage brutes were approachiug me 1 made
a rusn at them with my razor, aud, with all
the gesticulations, shouts and grimaces 1
could put on, 1 thong ht to scare them by
aping their own savagery. But to no pur
pose. They would not leave, nor would
ihey approach at a nearer distance than
twelve feet.
"At last 1 got accustomed to them. I
kDew they were hungry, and I was getting
hungry myself. The poet says lhat a fel
low feeling makes one wondours kind—at
least, we did not molest oue another from
that on.
"My horse began to plough away once
again at the snow. The coyotes followed
me for about three miles, and alter that I
saw them no more.
"The night was dark as Erebus. Not a
star appeared to tnrow one cheering ray
upon me, and there was a light, drizzling
sleet all night.
My horse's gait could not he faster lhan
two miles an hour. The tracks made din
ing the day were now closed by the drift
ing and falling snow, and everything—
snow, darkness, hinger, wolves—made it
the most dreary night I ever experienced.
Yet 1 managed to get home the 1 olio wing
morning at Ave o'clock, being just twenty
one hours in the saddle. '
"I am now partially restored to my
usual spirits and elasticity of mind, and ex
pect ere long to be able again to compete
with the boys in any feat of jumping, rac
ing, or stone throwing.
"Altogether, however, I look upon my
narrow escape from death as a special pro
tection of Divine Providence."
Seraueueu ItMlt
When three rival western railroads—
say three running out of Chicago—get
into a rumpus, cut rates and vow they will
carry passengers and freight free, it is a
lover's quarrel, ana must soon end. Be
fore the public has much benefit from the
break the president of the road which is
' ... 0 the most money invites u others
I > come and see him regarding a new style
of cattle ear. They make their appear
ance on time, light fresh cigars, settle down
in easy chairs, aud No. 1 remarks:
4 "Gentlemen, I am sorry to disappoint
you, but the model of the new car re
ferred to was accidentally broken last
night."
,4 Oh, it's of no consequence," says No.
3."
"Not in the least,'* adds No. 3.
"Now that you are both, here and 1
happen to think of it, I may be pardoned
for saying that my rtad can continue this
cutting business tor an indefinite period
and still pay dividends."
4 'And so can mine."
' And so can mine."
"No doubt of it, geullemen—not the
least doubt. This afternoon I Instructed
my general passenger agent to cut rates
one dollar lower.*'
4 'And so did L "
"And so did L"
4 'But while sitting here I have been led
to inquire of myself why any of u§ should
cut rates. There is traffic enough for us
all at go>xl rates."
"Yes, that's so."
44 Yes, that's so."
"The public do not thank us for this
cut. We might carry ten thousand pas
sengers to St. Louis and not receive even
a thank you."
"Not a thank."
"No, not a thank."
"Therefore, gentlemen, seeing that we
are all here toge'her, and seeing that a
hard winter is approaching, I feel like
signing an agreement to restore old rates."
44 50 do I."
"So do L"
"V ery well. We will sign our names to
this contract, and I will order George to
bring the bottles of champagne aud a iuueh.
Excuse my bland smile, gentlemen, but I
feel good."
4 'And I was never more happy."
"And 1 am sereueness itself."
And next day rates are restored to the
old figures."
RescnM by a Hore.
Dr. Whitlock tells us a story of a narrow
escape which his father-in-law, Murdock
McKenzie, who lives in San Bernardino,
Cal., recently had. Mr. McKentie owns
a young bull, a gentle enough aniinal ordi
narily, and being in the pasture where the
bull with other stock is confined, the
worthy gentleman was taking him by the
forelock, as it were, by pulling cockleburrs
from the shaggy front of the bull, which
submitted quietly to the operation. But
just as soon as Mr. McKenzie turned to
leave him, the animal made a headlong
rush for him, knocking him senseless to
the earth, where he lay for the time sense
less, the bull endeavoring unsuccessfully to
gore him as he lay prostrate. Now comes
the strangest part of the incident. About
one hundred yards distant from where Mr.
McKenzie was engaged with the bull a
favorite mare and colt were quietly feed
ing, but no sooner was the worthy gentle
man struck by the vicious animal than
both mare and colt were observed fiying to
his rescue with the speed of the wind, and
charging upon the bull drove him away
with hoof and teeth, thus enabling Mr.
McKenzie who had recovered his senses in
the mean time, to stagger to the fence and
climb out of danger. His first recollection
however, after being struck, was of the
colt rubbing its nose upon his face, as
much as to say: "I'm very sorry, but we
hurried up as fast as we could."
—There are 24 cubic feet of loose
earth in a ton.
Chemical Composition of Fruit.
In a late lecture, Prof. Caldwell, in talk
ing on the chemical composition of fruit,
mentioned some of the leading component
parts, as pectose, and the free organic acids,
including the malic and tartaric acids. To
these acids the rour taste is due. More
prominent than pectose is sugar, which in
peaches may run as low as II per cent.,
but exceeds 4 per cent, in sweet cherries,
and sometimes runs as high as 15 per cent,
in grapes. The albucoids exist in small
quantities in fruits. Prof. C. stated that
in order to get as much consequent nutri
ment &B is contained in 0 ounces of fresh
white of egg, one would have to eat, accord
ing to analysis 110 ounces of cherries, 138
oz. of grapes, 194 of strawberries, 247 of
gooseberries, 52 of apples, or 400 of pears.
The agreeable quality of fruits depends on
the proportion between acid, sugar, pectin,
gum, cellulose, Ac., and the aroma it due
to the essential oils in minute proportions,
whose quantity has never been determined;
also on the relation between soluble and
insoluble maUers, to wnicb tbe melting
quality of some fruits is largely due. As
tbe fruit ripens, tbe insolubie pectose is
partly converted into pectin, and the fruit
softens. The free acids generally dimin
ishes, but m the apple it sometimes in
creases for a short tune, and then dimin
ishes till the fruit is ripe. On the other
hand, the sugar usually increases steadily
in the apple and pear, but in the grape
makes a sudden leap as it approaches ma
turity. Till midsummer, the soluble and
insoluble matters remain about equal, but
in August the soluble matters begin to get
the upper hand, and the ripe fruit becomes
soft or inelttug. Great chinges are made
in comparatively few days in the ratio be
tween the acids and sugar in the grape.
Treatment has been found to influence these
changes, and cultivation to improve the
quality of fruit. Ripening, as well as
weather, alfecis these changes, and acids
are greatly reduced iD quantity in pears aud
apples by the ripening process; but its ef
fect on grapes lias not been sufficiently in
vestigated. It is worthy of careful exami
nation in what way cultivation acts, and
when well understood we may largelv con
trol flavor, or modify it to some extent.
Ail these considerations open a wide field
for future investigation. Prof. Caldwell
remarked that the ihiporlant fact hud been
determined that w presence of pot
ash is important, soda cannot take its
place, although the two alkalies are so
similar.
Iteeurer Arm*.
The following incident took place in Ger
many, recently during a performance of
"Fidelio" at the Town Theatre of May
ence. Herr Mann, the leading baritone of
the company, was about, in the character
of the wicked Don Pizarro, to undergo
the penally of his evil detds, the stage
"business" requiring that he should be led
away to confinement by two guards at a
sign from the Minister of State. The brace
of '•supers" told off lor this duty were
private soldiers, belonging to an artillery
regiment in garrison at Mayence—two
sturdy Brandenburgers, drilled and disci
plined to a ricety. As they took up the
position assigned to them on either side of
Pizarro, previous to marching him off the
stage, the < horist intrusted with the part of
"officer commanding escort' whispered to
them:
"Remember, the man is a state prisoner.
Guard him carefully."
Obedient to orders, they led Pizarro
away to his dressing room, where he rap
idly exchanged his theatrical costume for
private clothes, and. opening his door, was
about to go home to his supper as usual,
when, to his amazement, he found that his
passage was barred by a couple of crossed
halberds. Indignantly inquiring of the
indexible supers faciug him with out
stretched weapons "what they meant by
interfering with his movements/' he re
ceived the stolid reply that "they had strict
orders to guard him closely as a Suite pris
oner, and that he must not attempt to leave
his room." Some time eiapsed before the
accidental arrival on the spot of the stage
manager, whose authority they were in
duced with difficulty to recognize, resulted
in these worty fellows '"recovering arms,*'
and in Mr. Mann's emancipation from re
straint.
Summer Tours of 1881
Already the notes of preparation for the
Summer, we being heard on every side.
The Pennsylvania Railroad Company will,
during the coming season, present greater
facilities than evir for visitors to the many
mountain and seaside resorts reached by it.
All the advantages offered in previous sea
sons in the way of excursion tickets, last
and frequent trains, Palace coaches, and
spiendid passengers equipment will be con
tinued and many improvements will be
added which will insure to passengers still
greater comforts and conveniences. With
its leased and controlled line?, it reaches
direct to all the popular watering places on
the New Jersey coast; and all the famous
mountain resofts of Pennsylvania, and no
expense is spared to provide speed, safety,
and luxurious accomodations for its pa
trons. Fast express trains will be run to
Long Branch, Ocean Grove, Asbury Park,
Ocean Beach, SSpring Lake, Elberou, Deal
Beach, Point Pleasant, Beach Haven,
Long Beach, etc. A new branch now in
course of construction will be finished to
Sea Side Park, adding auother delightful
ocean resort to the already large number
touched by the lines of this great corpora
tion. On the West Jersey Railroad,
(which is also controlled by the Peunsyi
vania Railroad Compauy) which reaches
to Atlantic City and Cape May; many im
provements have been made, most promi
nent oi which are frequent long sidings,
giving all the advantages of a double
track; the ruuning of the trains by the
system so successful on the Pennsylvania
Railroad—and the placing of water tanks
between the tiaeks enabling engines to take
up water while in motion, thus allowing
trains to run through without stoppages.
A marked feature of all these lines is the
thorough construction of the roadbed, the
smooth running of the trains, and the en
ire freedom from dust being particularly
noticeable. For travel to the mountains,
there will be lound the usual high stand
ard of accomodation, and those preferring
a jaunt in the country, a sojourn in the
shady valleys, or on the mountain tops,
will find eveiy convenience for quick and
enjoyable transit to Kane, Renovo, Dela
ware Water Gap, Altoona and Cresson.
—The state debt oi Uonuectlout Is I*-'
907,000.
Gr*c Darling.
On the morning of September 7, 1888,
William Darling and his daughter were out
earlier than uau&L A terrible gale was
blowing from the north, accompanied with
rain, and both of them were on the alert at
the dawn of day to make thing! secure
about the lighthouse before the turn of the
tide. At a quarter to fire, when the day
light was still imperfect, Grace observed a
tteanier ashore on a craggy island half a
mile distant, and she called the attention
of her father to it The sea was breaking
so violently over the vessel, and the morn
ing was so dark that more than two hours
passed before they could be sure whether
or not there were living persons on the
vessel. But about seven they saw three
or four human figures upon the rocks near
the steamer, and they began at onoe to
consider whether it was possible to save
them.
Both thought tbey could get to the
wreck, but not back again utiles* assisted
by some of the rescued persons, as on their
return there would be a stroug tide to con
tend with. They concluded to take the
risk, both being in perfect accord from the
beginning to the end of the affair. Pre -
ciscly what they did was related by the
father in his official letter to the Light
house Board, now published for the first
time.
"We agreed," he said, "that if we could
get to them, some of them would be able
to assist us back, without which we could
not return; and, having no Idea of a
Possibility of a Boat coining from North
Sunderland, we amediately Laurelled our
Boat, and was Enabled to gain the rock,
where we found 8 men and 1 women, which
1 judged rather 100 many to take at once
in the stale of the Weather; therefore,
look the Women and four Men to the
Longstone; two of them returned with
me, and succeeded in bringing the remain
der, in all y persons, sal el/ to the Long
stone about nine o'clock."
That is the exact statement of the case
by honest William Darling, who had no
romance ia his comp mition. His daughter
Grace assisted him to row his boat about
one mile, although in a straight line the
distance was only a hall mile, and helped
him to rescue from a very painful situa
tion one woman and four men. Having
done this, she went into the light-house
and devoted herself with her mother's aid,
to the care and restoration of the persons
saved. The storm was of such violence
and duration that the shipwrecked persons
had to remain with them two days and
nights, as it was not possible to communi
cate with the mainland.
'The sufferings ei the poor woman,"
Grace Darling wrote afterwards, "seemed
to me to be rarely equalled, having Strug*
gleel nearly two hours to save her dear
children; they both dnHI in h'T ''
Grace Derung performed a highly credit
able act; but neither she nor her father
would have supposed they had uwlh any
thing so very extraordinary if they had not
been iold so by others. Nor indeed can it
be truly said that she saved lives. The
tide was falling, leaving more and more of
the rock free from water, and in a short
lime other assistance came.
The neatest village to the Fame Island
is Bain borough, two or three miles distance.
A gentleman living there, who probably
kue * the excellent character of the Dar
lings, sent an account of the affair to the
Duae ot Northumberland (then living at
his seat near by) who was then the presi
dent of the Ko/al Humane Society. The
duae call cd attention to the exploit, and
the result waa that the gold medal of the
Humane Society was awarded to both
father and daughter, accompanied by let
ters of extravagant and iil-expretaed eulo
gium.
All this gelling into the newspapers, the
English people did not stop to scrutiniie a
talc which appealed so strongly to their
love of courage and fidelity. Medals and
other presents came pouiiug into the light
house. The Suipwreck Society of New
castle and similar societies along that dan
gerous coast awarded their medals to father
and daughter. The Duke of Northumber
land Lad the good sense to send to William
Darling a complete suit of water proof
clotning, and the Duchess gave Mrs. Dar
ling a silver tea pot, **to be constantly used
by her, and afterwards to belong to Grace
il. Darling.'' In the good old fashioned
way, the Duchess sent the family four
pounds of tea; to Mrs. Darling, a water
proof camlet cloak with hood; to Grace a
cloak like her mother 's, a silver-gilt watch,
a gold seal, a prayer book, and a short
Commentary on the Bible.
• The English people are so constituted
that they wisu to do whatever is done
by dukes and duchesses. Of course, there
arose a lashion to give presents to Grace
Darling. The Liguthouse Board sent her
fifty pounds; Sir Francis and Miss Bur
den Coutts, thirty pounds. The ladies of
Edmburg collected for her more than
eighty pounds; and money kept coming
in until the sum amounted to seven hun
dred and fifty pounds.
Her celebuty became extremely incon
venient to them aIL Managers of theatres
and cucuses tried to engage her as an at
traction, one offering her ten pounds a
week if she would appear for fifteen min
utes every evening in a play founded upon
the saviug of life from ship wreck. Hun
dreds wrote for her autograph, and many
of her autographs were sold at fairs for tha
benefit of sailors; and so many people
asked her for a lock of her hair that she
was obliged .to make a stand against them,
for fear of being reduced to absolute bald
ness. Her father wrote thus to one of the
newspapers.
'Tiease to acquaint the public in your
paper that within the last twelve days, 1
and my daughter have sat to ao less than
Beven portrait painters."
He found this so inconvenient, and it
wasted so much time, that he was obliged
in this public way to refuse further sittings.
He testifies that his daughter's head was
not turned by all tbis attention, and tuat
she continued to perform the duties of her
situation wifii the same steadiness and
cheerfulness as before. Four years after
the wreck of the steamer, she caught a
very bad cold, which proved to be the be
ginning of rapid consumption, and, after
an illness of a few months, she died in
October, 1842. She was buried in the
village of Bauiborough, where she had been
born twenty-seven years before, aud where
a number of the presents siio wared upon
her in 1836 and 18*8, are still preserved
by members of her family.
—Johnstown has 1D.090 teas of to# Itj
ou b'.uiUiUjj.
NO. 15.