Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, June 02, 1881, Image 1

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    YOL. LY.
C. T. Alexander] 5T M~ Bower.
Offlce in G&rm&n's new building.
Offlce on Allegheny Street.
Northwest corner ot Diamond.
Y° cum & HASTINGS,
High Street, opposite First National Bank.
Practices In all the courts of Centre County.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
in German or English.
All bus'n ess promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J w. Gephart.
omce on AUeghany Street, North of High.
Offlce on Woodrlng's Block, Opposite Court
Consultations in English or German. Offlce
In Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street.
Offlce in the rooms formerly occupied by toe
late w. p. Wilson.
It >w the Ancient* Spent Money,
Tacitus informs us that Nero, the Roman
emperor, gave away in presents to his
friends $97,500,000. The dresses of Lollia
Paulina, the lival of Agrippina, were val
ued at $1,664,480. This did not include
her jewels. She wore at one supper sl,-
262.500 worth of jewels,and it was a plain
citizen's supper. She was worth altogethi r
$200,000,000 The luxury of P&ppse, be
loved by Nero, was at least equal to that of
Lollia Pallas, the lover of Aggrippma, left
an estate in lands valued at $15,000,000.
M. Scaurus had a villa worth $15,000,000,
and this was only a small portion of his
immense fortune. The villa was burned
by his slaves out of revenge for some in
The sums paid by old Greeks and Ro -
mans for works of art make the present
price appear somewhat shabby. Nicias,
an artist, refused to sell one of his pictures
to King At talus for $75,000, choosing
rather to present it to his country as a gift.
Nicias was a millionaire. For a single fig
ure by Asislides, King At talus gave $125.-
000. Aluason, the tyrant of Eiatus, paid
$20,000 for a single picture by Aristides,
representing a battle of the Persians.
Csesar was a generous patron of art. He
bought of Timomachus,a painter of Athens,
two ligu es, one represents Ajax and the
other Aleda, for which he paid SIOO,OOO.
Appellee received $20,000 for a portrait
of Alexander, which he painted on the
walls of the temple Diana, at Ephesus.
Ptolemy paid Aratus $200,000 for some
old pictures by Melanthus and Pamhilus.
M. Agrippa paid to the people of Cyzicus
$50,000 for two small paintings, and it was
he who built and bequeathed to his coun
trymen the magnificent Thermae in the
Campus Martius, with their gardens, libra
ries and porticos—one portion of which,
the Pantheon, still remains. Lucius Alum
mius got a picture in Greece, representing
Father Bacchus, which King Attalus val
ued at $250,000, but Alummius said that
the price was too small, and refused to
The picture of "Venus Anadyomene by
Apelles, was sold for $25,000. Isocrates
received $20,000 for one orati >n. Virgil,
for lus lines on Ala c ffius, was rewarded by
a gift of SIO,OOO. For a single dish of
pottery the tragic actor A£3ophus paid
$4500. The Emperor Vitellius ordered a
dish to be made for him for which a fur
nace was erected in the fields outside the
city for $45,000. The colossal statue of
Mercury, made for the city of the Averni,
in Gaul, bv Zenodorus, cost $1,675,000
Nero paid $161,000 for a carpet. For
the famous statue of the Diademenos,
which was a bronze figure of life size rep
resenting a youth trying a fillet round his
head, Polycielitus received $125,000. And
again dropping art for litei at'ire, it is re
lated that presented to Aselius
Sabinus,s2o,ooo for a d alogus written be
tween a mnshroom, a cebbige, an oyster
and a thrush. Regarding the immense
wealth possessed by fortune s favorites in
ancient days, the mystery is what has be
come of all this gold and silver, for the
possessions of these rich men and women
consisted chiefly of the clean metal and
precious stones.
oke . gllilllieim iSinmvai
But who was to be the guide? The al
most impossibility of any European being
able to escape through the city undetect
ed, and the certainty of his murder if
detected, deterred the commandant from
ordering any officer, or even seeking volun
teers for such a duty.
A volunteer for this extraordinarily
dangerous adventure did, however, pre
sent himself in the person of Kavanagh,
He had sought out the spy, whose name
was Kunoujee Lai, and finding him intelli
gent, he expressed his desire to proceed
with him in disguise to Alum Bagh.
The spy at first hesitated; and urging
that there was more chance of detection
by two going together, proposed that they,
should take different roads, and meet out
side the city.
This Kavanagh objected to,and then pro
ceeded to finish some business he hail in
hand, his mind, however, still dwelling
upon the accomplishment of his object.
At last he made up his mind, and pro
posed the enterprise to his officers. They
reluctantly consented, and he proceeded to
disguise himself for the journey as a ns.
This he had secretly arranged, as he- did
not wish his wife to know anything of the
undertaking until his safe arrival at the
Alum Bagh should be signalled to the gar
To show the thoroughness with which
Kavanagh did this part of his work, it is
only nec°ssary to mention that the jnaler
j ials of which his costume was composed
i was borrowed piece by piece from separate
When the disguise was thus complete,
he proceeded at half past seven, P. M.
to the General's quarters, where he at once
tested the genuineness of his metamoi
Nobody recogoized him untilj made
We met a drifting boat far oat at sea.
Empty, without au oar, without a nail ;
Tossed on the lolliug b Hows aimlessly,
Hither and thither with the shifting gale.
Once, it had been a gallant 1 ttle craft,
tafe aucbored in the dark aud stormy days;
Or, with blue skies and fresh, glad wiuds
Heariug its living freight o'er sunny bays.
Now, sadly free, for no calm harbor b jund.
Without a purpose, or a guiding hand.
Aimless, and useless, it would drift, til found
A nameless wreck upon some uukuown
Alas! alas! the empty drifting lives
Tossed to-aud-fro upou Life's stormy sea !
The aimless souls, that every chance wind
To drowsy oues, ibat rock where great
calms be.
Peichauce, in fa-ly youth, some tempest
cross d
Their flags, and gallant sails unfurled;
Now, with torn shroude, aud helm, and an
chor lost,
Poor, crafts, they drift about the
Pound for no harbor, bearing no rich freight,
From every human tie too sadly free.
For whom no foud hearts pray, no watchers
The useless dr,ft-wood on'e mighty
Oh, Heart! Oh, Heart! this were a fate more
Thau ceaseless watch aud tight where tem
pests frown ;
BetUr amid the waves and tliuuder lack
Doiug thy bes', to struggle aud b o down !
A Noble Deed.
Two and-twenty years ago a deed was
performed which has scarcely any parallel
in the annals of modern wars.
The hero of it was a gentleman belong
ing to the Civil Service of India, named
Thomas Henry Kavanagh.
India trembled in the balance; and the
empire was thrilling with horror over the
terrible massacre of English women and
children at Cawnpore.when the news came
that a gallant little band of devoted men
were defen ling themselves in the Resi
dency at Lucknow against the hordes of a
savage and relentless enemy.
From the beginning to the end of this re
markable siege,Kavanagh—civilian though
he was—appears to have figured conspicu
ously in the defence, tor no sooner was the
Residency invested by the mutineer forces,
than he set to work to arm and drill all the
civilians in the place; and in spite of much
ridicule from the military men, ultimately
succeeded in organizing a corps of volun
teers that did splendid service for the
During five long months the little garri
son was put to its wits' end to meet the
constant and ever recurring attacks of the
enemy. Repelling sorties, mining and
countermining, repairing breaches, etc., was
the work that was always going on; acd
none was more willing and brave than the
gallant Kavanagh who though wounded
several times was ever to be found at the
post of danger-
We should also mention here, as an in.
teresting fact, that Kavanagh's wife was
also wounded during the siege and laid up
for several weeks.
At length in November came the wel
come news that Sir Colin Campbell—after
wards Lord Clyde was advancing with a
strong British force to the relief of the gar
rison; and on the ninth of that month Kav
anagh learned that a spy had come in from
Cawnpore.and that he was going back again
to the Alum Bagk, with despatches for
Sir Colin. •
Indeed, it had become necessary that
Sir Colin's march should be hastened, and
that he should the city by the
least hazardous route.
himself known, auil then Sir .lames Out
raiu himself put the finishing touches to
his toilet.
Placing a double barreled pistol iu his
waistband, and additionally armed with a
tulwar or sword, Kavanagh then took
leave of the General aud his staff, and pro
ceeded with Kuuoujee Lsl to the right
bank of the river Goomtee.
Kavanagh and his guide then undressed
themselves, aud began to ford the rivei,
which at that point was about a hundred
) anls wide.
Kavanagh owns that he felt his courage
failing him as he entered the cold water,
but seeing the guide walking quickly to
wards the opposite bank, he followed
On reaching it, they took tueir bundles
of clothes from their heads and dressed
themselves again, at the saute time narrow
ly escapiug observation by a sepoy who
had come to a pond in the neighborhood
to wash.
On finding, however, that they were not
observed, confidence returned to them, aud
they proceeded right on.
From the city they passed into the green
fields, which Kavanagh had not seen for
five months, and he says that a carrot
which he took from the roadside was the
most delicious he had ever tasted.
A further walk of a few miles was ac
complished iu high spirits; but they soon
found out that they had taken the wrong
road, and were in the Dilkooshah Park,
which wa' in of the enemy.
Here Kavanagh showed his wonted cour
age by goiug within twenty yards of two
guns,to find out the strength of the enemy.
Kuuoujee Lai was in great trouble, and
he feared that Kavanagh would think that
he was acting the traitor ; and he begged
him not to distrust him, as the mistake
was made by his anxiety to avoid the
pickets of the enemy.
Kavanagh reassured him, and they con
tinued their journey, constantly meeting
sepoys but still escaping detection.
After wading through a swamp of
nearly two hour * up to their waists in
water, and being nearly exhausted with
fatigue and anxiety, Kavanagh insisted
upon having some rest, in spite of the re
monstrance of his guide.
After a halt of about a quarter of an
hour, they again went forward, and passed,
through two pickets of the enemy, who
had no sentries thrown out.
Thiswas about 4 o' clock in the morning
and Kavanagh lay down to sleep for an
hour, although Kunoujee Lai again pro
tested against it.
Suddenly, they heard the pleasant sound
of the British challenge, "Who comes
there ?" delivered with a native accent;
and to their joyful surprise they found
themselves within the lines of Sir Colin
Campbell's camp, which they believed to be
• ill many miles distant.
An officer of the 9lh Lancers conducted
Kavanagh to his tent and gave him a
glass of brandy, and he then asked the
way to the Commander-in-chiefs tent.
Meeting an elderly gentleman coming
out of the tent in question, Kavanagh
asked him where he could find Sir Colin
'I am Sir Colin Campbell,' was the quick
reply. 'Who are you ?'
•This will explain, sir,' replied Kava
nagh, taking from the folds of his turban
a note of introduction from Sir James Out
Sir Colin read it hastily, and glancing at
Kavanagh with his keen eyes, he asked if
it was true.
'Do you doubt me, sir ?' asked Kava
'No, no,' replied Sir Colin, ffiut it seems
very strange.'
Sir Colin was anxious to hear his story;
but Kavanagh, worn out with the strain
upon his metal and physical system, beg
ged to be allowed some sleep.
When he awoke, Kavanagh was very
cordially received at Sir Colin's own table,
where, over a substantial repast—to which
he did ample justice—he recounted to the
Commmauder-in-chief and his staff the ad
ventures through which he had passed.
In the meantime, the devoted garrisou
in the Residency he signalled, "Is Kava
naghsafe?' But the signal could not be
Shortly afterwards, however, the pre
concerted signal—namely, the raising of a
flag at the Alum Bagh, told Sir James
Outrain that the hero was beyond the risk
of further danger.
Then Mre-Kavanagh was made acquaint
ed with her husband's heroic act, and re
ceived the congratulations of all.
We have no space to give all the details
of Sir Colin Campbell's march to the Re
sidency; but Kavanagh, by his bravery
and intelligence daring that march, wa
certainly the man who next to the Uom
mander-m-chief, contributed most to the
success of the attack.
Indeed, never was a nobler act than that
of Karanagh's and when he appeared again
within the walls of the garrison which he
had risked his life to rescue, and was thus
the first man to relieve it, the cheers and
greeting with which he was received by
its half-famished defenders must have
beeen dear to his soul.
—The Pennsylvania canal Is no*
open for navagation.
—The long Arctic night is of 143
days' duration.
—The vvni[e House cook has a salary
ot SI,BOO per year.
—lfoston is to be lighted with the
electric light.
—One cord of hi c'l wood weighs
2308 pounds.
Jiininle Currie on Vlliel*.
"I'm iookiug for the responsible man of
this print shop," snorted a broad should
ered tramp, edging his way into the manag
ing editor's office. 4 *Show me the high
daddy that pumps out the literature for
the magazine. Whoop! Give me room!
Where's the pelican that licks the postage
stamps for this periodical f Wah-h! I'm a
snort in'alligator of the briny deep 1 W here's
the man that chews soap for the job
office ?" "1 represent those various fuuc
lions," repeated the managing editor draw
ing u sabre out of his ear. "What kiud of
an advertisement do you want ?" and pour
ed a handful of gun}K>wder into a hollow
tool h and cocked it.
"What do you mean by publishing my
name in this yere second-hand almanac ?"
What's ycr justification tor dragging me
through this two sheet poster? Who said I
was dead? Who killed me? Who put my
uamc ou this prescription label ? I'm Jim
Currie. of Texas! Hear me ? Who is the
man that wrote me up as murdered in this
dune museum programme I Give me his
spine ! Hand incoue c# his eyes!" and the
stranger danced across the local-room and
"I'm the man," said the managing edi
tor, slippiug a repealing ride out of his
sleeve. "I wrote that article," drawing a
handful of dynamite out of a pimple on
his nose. "If it isn't satisfactory" (taking
a keg of gunpowder out of his sock) "it
can be fixed."
"i want an apology of four dollars ir.
cash, and I'll get it, if I bust this type
writer!" yelled Mr.~ Curne. "Gimme
justice or three dollarnnd half, or I'll bang
the side lights out of mis bill board qmck
er'n a streak o' lightning 'll scorch an old
maid! I'm the sbivann' walrus ot the
growing Southwest ! {Gimme satisfaction
or two dollars and seventy-five cents, or
you'll hear this first lesson in easy spelliD 1
whoooiu' through all space! Wah — h—
"You lite down the inside of the build
ing !" howled the managing editor, draw
ing a fourteen inch Bowie knife from his
knee jo ut, "or 1 11 crawl ilaide of you;"
aud he rammed a twelve pound cartridge
into his elbow. "Jump through the roof,
or I'll bite you iu half land throw the rest
away;" aud he claweoit twelve or fifteen
feet of planking, and lammed out the side
of the building with it?
Aud the stranger w .nt out and told his
abeitors that the wouldn't work;they
was ail out of money, and ftmkln't put up
tor a glass of beer, while, the managing
editor started tor n editofial demonstrat
ing the lack of corporate sympathy for the
pauper criminals.
There's nothing likp being firm with
A Funeral I'roceiul m in Atlienn.
The first funeral which we
met in Athens show A the peculiarities of
the Greek custom at their best. On an
open bier, resting on the shoulders of eix
young men, lay the body of a beautiful
girl of sixteen, dressed in light blue and
white, her face and arms exposed, her
he d garlanded with flowers, aud flowers
tilling licr hands and lying in knots and
clusters on her breast. Bo she was borne
1 hrough the clear, sweet morning sunshine
that flooded the streets of her native city,
to her grave beyond its limits, uuder the
shadow of Mount Hymettus.
Deiegeorges, ex-Prune Minister, in the
quickiy succeeding changes of Greek party
government several times at the head of
the cabinet, aud as often the leader of the
opposition, died during our stay at Athens,
lie was a man whose staunch integrity
and democratic love of simplicity had en
deared him to the peopl \ He was buried
on the day after his death, the rule in
Dense crowds of men and l>oys thronged
the streets near the house, from which the
procession was to start. There were no
services at his home, but acquaintances
parsed in to view the remains, and to offer
sympathy t > the family, who, as a rule, do
not accompany the procession to the church
or the grave. Every man who entered the
house put on a white lace scarf ovei the
right shoulder and under the left arm—the
l adge of mourning. Many bearded priests
of the Greek church mingled with the
crowd. Their luxuriant hair is never cut,
hut is twisted iuto a roll, and knotted on
the hack of the hesd like a woman's. They
wear a tall, cylindrical hat, brimless be
low, hut with a round Tiat crown wh ch
projects laterally an inch oi two. The
dignitaries of the church were resplendent
in gold embroidered robes of white, purple
and scarlet.
The c flio was of blue satin. The body,
dressed iu plain black as iu life—the low
shoes tied with white ribbon —was brought
out and placed on the opeu bier. As is the
custom at Athens, the upper half of the
coflin, for its entire length, had been re
moved with the lid, and was carried in ad
vance of the bier. On it was worked in
white a cross and a crown. A glass cover
was placed over the body. Flowers in
profusion lay about the form of the dead
Two red banners—one with a formal
sacred painting, in the Byzantine style of
tue Annunciation, and of Mary and the
Child; the other representing, in archaic
figures, the Crucifixion and the Resurrec
tion—were borne before the coflin. Then
followed the clergy and prominent citi
aeus, while the brass band played a slow
moving dirge. Leaving the crowded streets,
I went by a shorter way to the cathedral,
where the mention of my nationality passed
me through the closed doors, and secured
ine an excellent place—seats there were
none, save for bishops and king.
First enter the sacred banners, and the
man walk the lid of the coflin; then priests
with lauterns, censers, tapers and banners;
then the coflin is carried iu and placed on a
black catafalque in the choir. The king,
with a lew attendants, has taken his place
just to the left of the Patriarch's throne,
which is on the south of the choir. King
George is rather tall, erect, well formed,
lair-haired, with a blonde mustache, and
pleasantly regular features. He wears the
dark blue uniform of a major, and a light
blue short cloak with crimsou lining, while
a wide, light blue scarf crosses his breast
from the right shoulder.
. Young men press forward to the coffin
with garlands of flowers. They are dele
gates from the university and the schools.
The Patriarch takes his seat, two bishops
on either hand, venerable, white bearded
men. The loud, shril. chant of the priests,
men's voices singing in unison, begins the
service. Two singers who are not priests
intone most of the service, the priests, and
bishops over against them answering anti
phonal ly. The muaic has that weird
shaking of the voice within a range of four
or five notes which recalls Arabian music.
Indeed, the Greeks of to-day in their
church chants and in their street ballads,
have no music which does not seem to have
been borrowed from Asia. Nothing you
see or hear at Athens is moie unlike Eu
rope aud America than the singing.
The service finished, the king goes out
first, after him the priests and the coffin.
The proceasiou resumes its slow inarch
tlirough the principal streets. Two hours
later, as I stood on the Acropolis, I could
see the crowd standing about the open
grave among the cypresses beyond the
llissua, listening to panegyrics delivered
in succession by four ex-prime ministers,
the rivals aud ft lends of the dead states
man. For several days the newspapers of
Athens were filled with eulogies of Dele
georges. Many of them were very elo
quent. I had ihe curiosity to couut in one
of these articles the words which I could
not readily trace to a root used in classic
Greek. There were but eleven such words
iu an at tide of two columns, so truly is
the Greek of to-day Greek, and not Sla
What a Tenant May Keiuuv*.
Tenants of au improving disposition are
often deterred from making their homes as
comfortable as they could desire and are
able to make them for fear of benefiting
their landlords or successors more than
themselves. Painting, papering and re
pairing of ihe house and improvements of
the grounds are obviously of a permanent
nature aud cannot benefit any one but the
occupant of the premises. Shou'd a tenant
see fit to incur expense for these things he
can claim no recompense, if, at the expira
tion of the lease, he is unwilling or unable
to renew it. There are, however, many
improvements that formerly would have
been held to insure to the benefit of the
landlord, but which more modern decisions
permit the tenant to take up and carry
away with his other household goods.
The old law and judicial construction
favored land and land owners, and every
thing that was directly or constructively
attached to the soil was held to belong to
the owner of the fee and not removable by
the tenant though placed there by bim
solely for his own convenience. Although
the law has been little changed in this
respect the views of judges have been prac
tically reversed. The tendency of all
receul decisions is to allow a tenant to re
move everything removable which he adds
to the tenancy, unless he himself intended
it to be permanent. Houses are usually
considered as realty, and everything attach
ed, as porches, window blinds and sashes,
water spouts and lightning-rods, go with
them. The gas pipes which convey the
gas from the street and distribute it
throughout the house are in the same
category, but the gas fixtures, though
screwed aud cemented to the gas fittings,
are held to be of the same nature as the
old-fashioned candlesticks, and, therefore,
personal property. This has long been
held to be the law as regards tenants.
They may put what gas fixtures they please
in a house aud take them away again with
their kerosene lamps and other illuminating
apparatus. Recently Judge Thayer de
cided that this was rood law for the land
lord as well as for the tenant, and that
therefore the gas fixtures do not necessarily
paas with the sale of the house, nor are
they covered by a mortgage on the realty.
AM a general rule, whatever a tenant
puts into a dwelling or erects on the
premises for his own cointort. without the
intentiou to permanently annex it, he may
reu ove at any time before the expiration
of his lease. This would iuclude such
things as cupboards, shelves, coalbina, and
even a stairway has been held to be within
tie rule. All trade fixtures and temporary
structures, whether lrame or brick, and
without regai d to their size, may be taken
down and carried off by the tenant who
erected them. Even a dwelling-house is
not a part of the realty if the right to re
move it is reserved. Ail the landlord can
legitimate demand is to have his property
restored to his possession in as good order
as it was received by the tenant, ordinary
wear and tear excepted. Whatever the
tenant put iu of a movable nature be may
take away, but his carpenter work must
no; injure or permanently alter the prop
erly. AU the decisions concur that these
removals of improvements and fixtures
must be made within the term of the leaae-
If the tenant waits till his lease h s exp red
the laud aud all that is ou it except the
purely personal property of llie lena t re
verts to the landlord.
The Valley of the Jordan.
The Valley of the Jordan would act as
an enormous hot house for the new colouy.
Here might be cultivated palms, cotton,
indigo, sugar, rice, sorghum, besides
bananas, pine-apples, yams, sweet potatoes
and other field and garden produce. Ris
ing a little higher, the country is adapted
to tobacco, maize, castor oil, millet, flax,
melons, gourds, cummin, anise, ochra,
crinjals, pomegranates, oranges, figs—and
so up to the plains, where wheat, barley,
beans and lentils of various sorts, with
olives and vines would form the staple
products. Gilead especialfy is essentially
a country 01 wine and oil; it is also
admirably adapted to silk-culture; while
among its forests, carob or locust bean,
pistachio, jujube, almond, balsam, and
other profitable trees arrow wild in great
profusion. All the fruits of Southern Eu
rope, here grow to perfection; apples,
pears, quinces thrive well on the more ex
treme elevation, upon which the fruits and
vegetables of England might be cultivated,
while the quick growing eucalyptus could
be plauted with advantage on the fertile
but txeeless piains. Not only does the ex
traordinary variety of soil and climate thus
compressed into a small era offer exception
al advantages from an agricultural point of
view, but the inclusion of the Dead Sea
within its limits would furnish a vast
source of wealth, by the exploitation of
its chemical and mineral resources. The
supply of Chlorate of Potassium, 200,000
tons of which are annually consumed in
England, is practically inexhaustible;
while petroleum, bitumen, and other
lignites can be procured in great quantities
upon its shores. There can be little doubt,
in fait, that the Dead Sea is a mine of
unexplored wealth which only needs the
application of capital and entei prise to
make it a most lucrative property.
A Terrible Scene.
John Wallace recently had a terrible
experience in Marion, Indiana. He had
gone into Warner's barber shop to be
shaved. Mr. Warner, being ill, had, a day
or two before, hired a genteel looking man
representing himself to be a first class
barber from Wayne county, to
work for bim a few days. The fellow
conducted himself all right until Saturday,
wheu he began to drink quite freely, he
secured some alcohol used in the shop aud
drank it raw. Mr. Jesse I jams, who occu
pied the chair just before Mr. Wallace,
noticed something very peculiar in the
man's actions, especially when he refused
to give the change back from a bill handed
him by Ijams. Wallace got into the chair,
and the fellow, after lathering his face and
getting everything ready for operation,
opened his razor, giaspod Mr. Wallace by
the throat, uud exclaimed: "1 am going
to cut your throat." Looking up, Mr.
Wallace saw that the barber "was foaming
at the mouth and an insane glare was in
his eyes. So startled was Mr. Wallace for
a few moments that he could not reply.
The maniac gave vent to a blood-curdling
laugh and exclaimed: "You think I
won't do it, do you ? Well I shall- You
ueedn't look so scared. It wont hurt much.
I can do it in a minute. I shall first cut
your throat and then slit you open down
the stomach and let your bowels out. Oh,
1 kuow what they'll do with me for killing
you; but I don't care They will hang
me. lam not afraid of death; you are."
All the while the madman was flourish
ing his r&aor in close proximity to his
victim's tnroai, and occasionally drawing
back as if to strike. As soon as he
partialiy recovered from the first paralysis
of his fright, Wallace kept his eye steadily
upon his persecutor, and finally, taking
advantage of an instant when his grip was
loosened on ins throat, managed to twist
quickly around and slide out of the chair
and run for the door, but the barber was
too quick for him and got there first.
Then, with one hand on the door-knob and
a razor in the other, lie stood and heaped
the most horrible imprecations upon
Walluce's head because he had attempted
to escajie. Wallace ottered the barber a
cigar which be had in his pocket.
4 4 What do you want me to do with the
cigar ?" said the barber.
44 Why, smoke 1" said Mr. Wallace.
As the madman reached for the cigar
WaUace sprang upon him and threw him
down, then turned aud ran, the negro after
him with the razor in his hand. Wallace
got away safely, finally, and the barber
ran after a little boy, swearing he would
kill him. A butcher saw the negro and
pursued him, overtaking before
be reached the boy. The butcher over
powered the maniac anu the marshal dpag
ged him to jail. The negro was suffering
from delirium tremens.
A Barber on Bl(lne*a,
Very often the hair faha out aftei sick
ness. In suck cases it generally grows
sgain without the aid of any hair tonic
whatever; but when it lalls out from natural
causes it never grows again. The cele
brated Dr. Bazm, who was formerly phy
sician in chief of the St. Louis 11 >spital at
Pari*, and who is known throughout the
wond a9 the most learned specialist for
affections of the skin, told me one day
that there was nothing that could make
the hair grow after the baldness had come
on gradually. Tliis I believe firmly, for,
if there was anything of the kind, we
would not see so many New York doctors
with heads as completely destitute of hair
as the backs of turtles. lam even per
suaded that these gentlemen would follow
the example of those Greek heroes wno,
under the leadership of Jason, made a
voyage to Colchis to bring back the Golde i
Fleece. Modern Argonauts, the doctors,
would consider themselves happy if they
could bring back from such a voyage the
secret of restoring the human fleece. 1
don't think 1 am far from the truth when I
say that during the past twenty-five yeai3
that I have practiced the profession of hair
dresser, I have made the trial upoo differ
ent bald heads of more than five hundred
different hair tonics, and iam bound to
admit that I never saw a single he*d the
hair of which was restored after baldnes .
At the end of so many failures, 1 am com
pletely uudeceived as t > the value of all the
preparations, and I would not now recom
mend any one of them, because I would be
afraid to commit the crime that is.
designated by the words, "obtaining
money under false pretenses." 1 In my
pathological studies npon the hair, I have
found that people who perspire a great
ileal from the head are apt to get bald.
The bad liaDit of wearing hats indoors is
also very hurtful to the hair. In 1806,
after the famous battle of J na. in which
the Prussians were completely defeated by
Napoleon 1., Baron Larrey, the celebrated
military surgeon, perceived that many of
the German prisoners were completely bald.
Surprised, he made inquiries as to the
cause of this, and he found that iliey owed
their baldness to the shape—as homely as
unhealthy—of their caps. The foul air of
their head gear, having no issue, destroyed
the vitality of the hair.
To oe carried In Your Pocket.
Keep good company or none. Never be
Idle, if your hands cannot be usefully
employed, attend to the cultivation of
your mind. Always speak the truth.
Make few promises. Live up to your en
gagements. Keep your own secrets if
you have any. When you speak to a per
son, look him in the face. Good company
and good conversation are the very sinews
of virtue. Good character is above all
things else. Your character cannot be
essentially injured, except by your own
acts. If any one speaks evil of you, let
your life be such that no one will believe
him. Drink no intoxicating liquors. Ever
live (mifortune excepted) within your
income. When you retire to bed, think
over what you have been doing during the
day. Make no haste to be rich, if you
would prosper. Small and steady gains,
give competency, with tranquility of
mind. Never play at any game of chance.
Avoid all temptation. Earn money before
you spend it. Never run into debt unless
you can see your way to get out of it.
Never borrow if you can possibly avoid it.
Do not marry until you are able to sup
port a wife. Never speak evil of any one.
Be just before you are generous. Keep
yourself innocent if you would be happy.
Save when you are young, that you may
spend when you are old. Kead over the
above maxims at least once a week.
A Villi to the Garden of Bdu.
A couple of lours' ride over a most
wretched bridle path, up and do wn rugged
mountain passes, brought us to this charm
rag oasis called "Eden." The Arabs as
sured us this spot was the real Garden of
Eden and judging from the intense curi
osity they evinced concerning ourselves
and our traps, we had no difficulty in be
lieving this to be the garden where our
tirst mother Eve dwelt ere she grew too
fond of apples. This Eden is situated in a
pretty little valley in the heart of the
mountains, at an elevation of some 5,00b
feet above the level of the sea. Water is
abundant here and consequently every
thing is green and fruit is plenty. The
valley is full of vineyards, with pomegran
ates and fig trees, and olive and mulberry
plantations, and over-topping the whole
can be seen some immense walnut trees
that look as old as the world.
As J am writing these lines sitting on
a camp-stool in front of my tent, I can see
the whole population of Eden collected
round our camp staring at us. Young
and old, men women and children are
pressing forward to have a good look at
ua; and some of these wild children of
Eve have climbed up the trees to have the
luxury of a bird's eye view of our camp.
Long before we reached our campaign
ground the news bad been brought that a
caravan of people from beyond the moun
tains and perhaps, oh wonder! from be
yond the sea, was coming to camp in their
oasis. The news spread like wild fire
among the tribe and there was a general
rush for the best places to see us come in
and get off our horses. The women left
off their work in the fields, the men left off
playing on the reed-pipes and the chil
dren left off % crying te see us coming.
A circus arriving in a village "out
West" never created such a sensation as
we did on approaching this earthly para
dise. As we filed past through this aisle of
human beings, we were greeted with shouts
and mock salutations. The women gig
gled, the men smiled, the children roared
at the queer figure we cut in our European
costumes. Two ladies with us were made
ihe objects of a very popular ova ion.
The green goggles which some of my
companions wore seemed to raise the en
thusiasm of the crowd to its highest pitch,
and many a swarthy finger was raised
from among those Arabs, pointing to these
green goggles, while the women called to
each other and raised their children in
their arms to make them enjoy the treat.
Meantime my friends, qu te unconscious
of their great popularity, did not know
what to make of all this crowd. But as
we drew near the tents and I helped Mrs.
E., off her horse, the crowd pressed so
much on us that Hald and his men were
obliged to drive them off and to have ropes
stretched around our camp to keep the
intruders out.
Here with plenty of elbow room I enjoy
the scene, which indeed, is very pictur
esque. When the excitement had some
what subsided 1 strolled out to enjoy the
gorgeous sunset. The western say was
aglow with luminous tints of orange, pink
and purple. This glory lasted bat a min
ute, and all was hushed in the gray tints of
Later in the evening some young mea
and young women were admitted in our
dining-room tent. These Arao women
were dying with curiosity to see and han
dle the clothes and trinkets of our lady
friends. Velvet, seemed to attract their
atteution aud admiration more than any
thing else, save perhaps our watches and
gloves, Ihe gloves especially seemed to
puzzle them. The Countess took out her
repeater and made it strike for them. They
seemed delighted, just as little children
would be wiin the sound of the tiny bell.
Some of these pretty Arab girls asked me.
through our dragoman, if ail the ladies in
our country were like the two that were
wiih uf I told Halil to ask these girls
what made them ask that question. They
answered with a giggle and a shy look
from their roguish eyes, "If they are ail so
large it must be very hard work for the
poor horses to carry them."
"uovd (1 *y. '
While a well Known actress, was m
Louisville a short time ago a Southern gen
tleman, a planter of considerable years
and fortune, allowed her charms to over
come his long suslaine 1 aversion to matri
rnony, and approached the fair
proposals of marriage. The following con
vereaiion is reported by a veraci us
Louisville scribe to have ensued:
"if I consented to become your wife,
sir, 1 should first desire time to understand
your disposition; second, I should desire
y our consent to two propositions."
"JName 'em" said he.
"You must consent to my remaining on
the stage ten years longer, at least."
"Urnphl Well, I don't think I would."
"And you must at once cease the use of
tobacco—except in the form of cigars."
"W-h-a-t ?" The planter started back in
bis chair, looking around the hotel parlor,
and staied at her, and from his lips there
followed a prolonged whistle.
"Great gad, miss! Surely—who—well!"
and he again stared.
"1 mean what 1 say."
"Come, now"—he found voice to speak
—"come, now, miss, let's compromise.
I'll agree to your aoung a year or two, but
don t cut off my tobacco —don't. I'd—it
would —don't."
"You have heard the alternative."
"Then, by Jackson, there's nothing
more to be said, f like you —you'd suit
me; but when it come to choosen between
chewin' and marrvin,' give me the natu
ral leaf, first, last, aud always. Good
day, miss."
And as red in the face as a Southern
sunset, he took his hat and his departuie.
She never saw him again.
Tlie Wells of Old Lui.doa.
The holy wells of London have all declined
in their reputation,even to St. Bride's Well,
which subsequently got its name attached
to an hospital for the reception of doubtful
persons. The last public use of the water
of St. Bride's Weil drained it so much that
the inhabitants of St. Bride's parish could
not get their usual supply. This exhaus
tion whs followed by an equally sudden de
mand. Several,men were engaged in fill
ing bottles, thousands a day, on or before
the 19th of June, 1821, the coronation day
of George the Fourth, at Westminster.
Since that occasion the idea of wells has
gradually lost favor in rustic England. It
has preserved itself though in the nomen
clature of places—viz; Tides well, Rake
well, etc., but that is all by which the uark
eye of modern materialism can mark the
NO. 22.