Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, June 23, 1881, Image 1

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    VOL. LV.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF
BELLEFONTFc
C. T. Alexander. C. At. bower.
A BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BBLLEFONTE, PA.
Office in Garm&n's new bulldlug.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
OLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLE FONTS, PA.
Northwest corner of Diamond,
Y° CUM & HASTINGS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
High Street, opposite First National Bank.
M TCT HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Practices In all the courta of Centre County.
Spec al attention to collections. Consultations
In German or English.
ILBUR F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
All bus ness promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J W. Uepbart.
J>EAVEK & GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLKFONTK, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
YF A. MORRISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BKLLEFONTK, PA.
Office on Woodrlng*s Block, Opposite Court
Hou-e.
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BBLLEFONTE, PA.
Consultations In English or "erman. Office
In Lyon's Building, Allegheny ' .reet.
JOHN G. LOVE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTB, PA.
Office in the rooms formerly occupied by the
late w. p. Wilson.
A Royal Wadding,
The marriage of Crown Prince Rudolph
of Austria and Princess Stephanie of Bel
gium was most imposingly solemnized at
the church of St. Augustine, in Vienna, on
May the 10th. An hour before the begin
ning of the ceremony the church was
densely crowded by a brilliant assembly.
The streets were filled with people. At 11
o'clock the procession started from the
palace and proceeded to the church, the
archdukes and foreign princes in full uni
form walking in pairs, followed by Priuce
Rudolph in the uniform of a major-general.
E.nperor Francis Joseph came next having
on his right the King of the Belgians, both
being in generals' uniforms. Then came
the bride with the Empress of Austria and
the Queen of the Belgians on either hand.
% The trains of the three ladies were liorue
by the principal ladies in waiting. Prin
cess Stephanie wore a magnificent rolie of
cloth of silver, with a train elaborate in
embroidery, orange blossoms arranged in
bunches looping up the dress, and a veil of
Brussels lace specially made for the occa
sion. Her mother, the queen, wore a blue
velvet dress, trimmed with lace, and the
empress wore a pale gray dress, trimmed
with Brussels point lace. The trains of
the foreigu princesses and archduchesses
were borne by pages and ladies of the pal
ace. Another group of officers completed
the procession. A fanfare of trumpets sig
naled the arrival of the cortege at the
church door, where it was received by Car
dinal Von Schwarzenburg at the head of
his clergy. Their majesties took seat 9
under a canopy over the throne. The
bridal pair proceeded to their places before
the sanctuary rails, where they offered a
short prayer. After a brief address from
the cardiual the marriage ceremony was
proceeded with.- At the moment when the
r.ugs were exchanged, peals broke forth
l'rom the bells of the city, and salvos of
artillery were fired. At the conclusion
the ceremony a Te Deum was sung, after
which the Hofburg choir executed an old
German march. The newly married pair
accompanied by the other imperial and
royal person&ges then returned to the city
palace of Hofburg. In commemoration of
the marriage Emperor Francis Joseph has
founded 22 scholarships at various schools
and has given 100,000 florins for the free
admission of ten pupils to the establishment
for the education of daughters of officers.
He has also granted complete or partial
amnesty to 331 persons imprisoned lor va
rious offences.
ASTONISHKD at the latter getting
away seoit-lree. an officer of the Flicy
second asked our hero how he could
be .such a fool as not ta shoot that
Frenchman.
"Is it shooting, ye mane, sir?" ask
ed he. "Sure, how could I shoot him
when 1 wasn't loaded ? '
4 You John Wesley, if you dou't
take thai bratuueof here while I am
wrUin&r 'his poem on "A Mother's
Love," I'll cuff the side of his head
t.ff'," said a fashionable Galveston
lady of a literary turn of mind to her
husband ilie other day.
IN PERILOUS WUERS.
'Bout ship ! O brother mar nera !
"Tin needful we should tleo ;
For pleasure, spreads her luring net
Beneath this hungry sea.
' l'were death to us did we but paaa
Yon r dge of creauiy foam ;
There, in a sea-cave, fathoms deep.
The sir. u makes hor home.
O'er lucent waves of go'deu green
Soft bret Zia bear along
To ears that will not be beguiled
l'be wan ou's dulcet song.
We scorn the glamour of her face,
A tlauio with hot desire ;
No charm lies iu her baleful look
Of O>OH that scorch like lire.
Her kisses pall, her love is falsi
So quick to i-onward sail ;
For kinder is the stress of waves,
L.-HS cruel is the gale.
'i he beaveu of i ur hope doth ho
Hard by a brighter shore ;
There wo may strike our tattered sails,
And rest us everuiore!
Char it) 's Reward.
lu the first cabin of the steamer bournl to
Quebec, they dined sumptuously, and
lived a happy luxurious life.
lu the steerage—Heaven have mercy!
how they suffered !
Milliceut Day shivered to her very soul
when she thought of it,aud wondered often
why such things should be, why some were
so rich, aud some were so poor; some so
utterly alone, unloved, and neglected. Had
she been able to act as she chose, there would
have been a graud trausformatiou scene
that dirty steerage very soou, aud tables
covered with choice daiuties would have
risen through the floor and snow-white
linen, aud fresh, soft couches would have
taken the place of the rags, aud hard
berths, and general shubbiuess.
But one girl,though she were a rich one,
had little in her power on that desolate
waste of waters. Still, that little Millicent
did. She had in her posession biscuits, aud
conserves, and delicate dainties prepared
for her own comfort during the voyage;and
thinking that at the cabin table she had all
she needed, she played the Lady Bountiful
with these small stores; choosing for her
principal protegts an Italian woman aud
her gaunt children, who seemed to her to
be the most wretched of them all, and to
whom, speaking the language well, she
could make herself understood.
In vain her friends remonstrated; in vain
the captain declared that he should forbid
such dangerous work among the emigrants.
Millicent had her own way. Once a day,
at least, she penetrated into the Inferno be
low the comparative Paradise of her own
domain, and fed those poor parched lips
with her dainties, aod comforted the
mother, when her youngest lay at death's
door, with her innocent sympathy. And
the woman grew to love her, aud the wau,
but classical faces of the boys lit up wheu
she approached. And when, with laud in
sight, the little heiress emptied her purse
into the dark hand of the penniless steerage
passenger, and made her, for the moment,
rich and full of hope, she turned with
severe earnestness to her eldest boy.
"Never forget to pray to the Madonna
for this beautiful Snrnorina!"' she cried.
"Uemember tnat it is all that you can do,
and my dying curse upou yJU if you for
get it i"
And with this fierce adjuration to her
children and a prayer that fell like liquid
silver Irom her lips for "the Signorina,"
she parted from Millicent, who went to her
beautiful home aud lier friends saddened
and softened by the scenes that she bad
witnessed, and remembered them a long,
long while.
She had given the woman her address,
but the poor woman did not come to her.
What fate befel her, Millicent did not
know; aud, iu time, the memory of those
well cut classical faces, gaunt and meagre
from starvation but with a strange wild
beauty about them nevertheless ceased to
haunt her —perhaps because oue face had
taken possession of her fancy, as one
face will, soouer or later, of that of every
woman.
John Blair, a young engineer and archi
tect, had met her,and looked into her eyes,
had touched her hand, had uttered those
subtle compliments that win a woman's
heart so easily; and though he 'was neither
rich nor great, he was the one man of men
to her.
Six months from the day of their meet
ing John Blair and Millicent Day were
married, and a happier pair it would have
been hard to find. They yielded mutually
to each other's wishes, and consequently
grew to have the same desires, so that at
last no yielding was necessary.
Only in one thing did Millicent prove
herself obstinate—nothing could tempt her
on an ocean voyage.
A visit to his native England and a tour
in Europe was John's anticipated pleasure:
but her experience in crossing the ocean
had made her averse to its repetition.
"Whether I saw them or not, the faces
of the steerage passengers would haunt
me," she said; "and I cannot endure the
idea of setting foot upon an ocean steamer
again."
So John, who had no wish to go alone,
left the latter to the cure of time, who
brought thern few sorrows and much joy,
and now and then laid upon Millicent's
breast a little token of his flight; so that at
last a boy almost as tall as herself called
Millicent mother, and the nursery was
musical with little voices.
Then, braver and older, and more will
ing than pvei to do anything to make John
happy, Millicent agreed to the European
trip; and leaving the little ones to the ten-
MILMLKIM. PA., THURSDAY, JUNK 23, 1881.
der care of grandmamma, and grandpapa,
the married lovers t<x)k their places in a
great ocean palace, and left land behind
them, for awhile at least.
"It might be," Millicent thought, as she
remembered her darling babes with tears
in her eyes—"might be forever, if the sea
were cruel."
But the sea was kind. No storms arose.
They crossed the Atlantic in safety, and
traversed Kurope witl\ none but pleasu
rable events until at last they found them
selves in Naples and ready, one bright
morning, to do, what all visitors to Naples
must desire to do— namely, ascend Mount
Vesuvius.
They mounted their horses, and led by a
guide, ascended the mouutain to a certain
resting-place, where it is customary to dis
mount, and, leaving their steeds behind,
trust tooue's feet and the guide for further
advancement.
"Is heaven lovelier than this?" asked
Millicent, clinging to her husband, and
bursting, she hardly knew why,into a flood
of tears.
But the guide did not leave them to their
feast of lwauty uudisturbed. lie made
them do Vtsuvius properly; peep iuto the
crater, possess themselves of a piece of
lava, witness the process of cuiking an egg
iu the hot sand, aud go through with the
rest of the formula.
Then it seemed time to return;aud John,
glaucing at bi9 watch, counted the time
that lay between them and their inn at
Naples, and they began their descent.
Suddenly, at a spot where some large
trees enlivened the desolation of the rough
road, the guide paused and uttered a cry.
Before them, risen as it seemed from the
very ground,stood a group of men—rough,
savage-looking fellows, armed with guns,
aud wearing broad hats —who, without
further parley, surrounded them aud seiz
ing the bridles of their horses,and tying the
bauds of the trembling guide behind them,
led them away over the rough roads in
sileuce.
John Blair was no coward; but 'o en
deavor to resist such a force would have
been sheer tolly iu a single man. Booty,
as he reflected, was probaly their object,
aud his wife's safety was his first thought.
Holding her Laud in his, he comforted her
as well as possible;and finally, with a sink
ing heart, obeyed the orders of one who
seemed to be captain, aud dismounted at
the entrance of an old ruin, into which
they were forced, but not over roughly, to
enter.
It was an ancient and dilapidated hall,
with a fire burning at one end; and here
their conductors left them for a while
alone, fastening the door behind them.
Then, and then only, the poor guide fell
to wringing his hands and weeping, and
imploring the lady and gentleman to pay
whatever ransom was required.
Meanwhile, Millicent,overcouie with ter
ror, wept upon her husband's breast, and
he found it impossible to comfort her. In
deed, the savage aspect of the men, and
the accounts that he had heard of bauditti
outrages left him but little hope.
Then it was that they heard the sound
of returniug feet without, and preseutly
the unfastening of a door.
A figure entered, and going to the tire,
which had nearly smouldered out, tiling ou
it some dry wood, which instantly kindled
into a blaze,and by its tlame lit two torches,
which were thrust into sconces pendant
from tue wall.
By this welcome light they saw that it
was that of a woman, who seemed to have
brought some food for them upon a sort of
wooden tray.
She was old, and gaunt, and bent; but
her features had a strange beauty about
them,nevertheless, and awakened in Milli
ceLt's mind a memory too vague and inde
finite for words. She had seen the face
before; it might be in some of those old
pictures at Rome—that brown skin, those
classical out lines, that gaunt meagreuess
that seemed to blight what once had been
beautiful. Yes, somewhere she remem
bered it. Iu another moment the truth
Hashed upon her,as the woman knelt down
to deposit the tray upon the floor. She
uttered a little cry ; a shriller one respond
ed to it, and the gaunt creature lay pros
trate before her, kissing her garments.
"It is the Signorina 1" she cried.
And Millicent knew the Italian woman
of the steerage, whom she bad succored so
many years before.
"Then it is thus that Giacomo returns a
benefit!" cried the woman. "My maledic
tions upon kirn! But he did not know
you—he did not remember as 1 do. Wait.
Have no fear ! You are safe 1"
Then another memory dawned upon
Millicent; and, in the captain of those
bandits, she knew the boy whose eyes had
been fjxed upon her face when lus mother
bade him pray for her eternally.
In another moment he was there, and
Millicent knew that they were safe. Bad
as ho must have been, a bandit and an out.
law, this Italian had retained his grati
tude.
The kiuduessof the young heiress to the
wretched emigrants had not been forgotten,
and the man who had returned to his own
land to lead a lawless life had ehenshed
her memory fondly iu his breast. He fed
them with the best he had to give, and
prayed for them to the saints and the
Madonna; and his own hand red with
man) r a man's blood led them safely from
his forest fastnesses to a spot where the
lights from the city of Naples seemed to
snnle a welcome to them.
—The wheat crop of 1881 will be
snort.
"l'he Moaliitu Ntoiio.''
I'apt. Kenozynaki Ims written an inter
esting book on "The last of the Anakim in
the Land of Moab," in which he gives
some particulars as to his studies of the in
scription on the famous Moabite stone. In
August, 18118, the He v. F. Klein, of the
Church Missionary society, while in the
Land of Moab, near Dibou, was informed
by an A tab that near by there was a black
Itusalt stone inscribed with ancient charac
ters. Upon going to the locality indicated
he found lying among the ruins a stone
about three feet ten inches high, two feet
broad uml 14 h inches thick, rounded at top
and bottom, and containing thirty-four
lines of inscription running across the stone.
Mr. Klein at this tune did not appreciate
the importance of the discovery, and he
merely copied a few words from the stone,
lie, however, took measures to secure the
stone for the iierliu museum, but made
little progress with his negotiations. A
few weeks afterward Capt. Warren, the
agent of the Palestine Exploration fund,
was informed of the existence of the stone,
but he took no action in the matter, know
ing that the Prussian consul was endeavor
ing to secure it. In the beginning of the
following year Capt. Warren was astonished
to learn, as was also M. Clermont Ganneau,
of the French consulate at Jerusalem, that
no copy or "hqucze" of the inscription had
been taken. Towards the close of the year
1869 the latter uot only seut men to obtain
squezes, who quarreled in the presence of
the Arabs, but offered $375 for the stoue,
whereas A'Bo had already been promised
by the Prussian government, and accepted
by those who claimed the ownership of the
stone. At this stage the government of
Nablus demanded the prize for itself,
and the Moabites, exasperated at his rapa
city, "sooner than give it up put a tire
under it and threw cold water on It, and
so broke it, and then distributed the bits
among the different families, to be piaced
in the granaries and art as blessings upon
the corp ; for they said that without the
stone a blight would fall upon their crops."
After immense trouble M. Clermout-Uan
neau recovered some twenty of these frag
ments, conUing til 3 letters, while several
small pieces were acquired by the Palestine
exploration fund. These fragments, when
united, were found to contain 609 words,
out of a total of 1,100 which the complete
stoue must have contained. The greater
part of the missing letters were recovered
fr mi the squezts taken before the stone
was broken by the ruthless Moabites, "so
that only Uiirty-Ilve words, fifteen half- i
words ami eighteen letters —less than oue
seventh of the whole —remain to be sup
plied from conjecture.'' With reference to
the characters engraved on the stone, the
general opinion is that they are Phoenician,
also called Samaritan, such as were used
by the Jews before the captivity. Dr.
Gidsburg, who has executed a translation
of the inscriptions, says that these charac
ters were common ii. C. 700 to all the
races of western Asia, und were used in
Nineveh, Phumlcia, Jerusalem, Samaria,
Moab, Cilieia and Cyprus. With reference
to the inscription on the stone itself, it may
be stated that it records some remarkable
events in the reign of Mesha, King of Moab,
who is mentioned in the second book of
Kings (iii. f 4, 5), and who liad rebelled
against Israel after the death of Ahab. The
first pait of the inscription narrates the cir
cumstances which led to the stone being
erected, while the second part relates to
the public works undertaken by Mesha
after he had overcome his Jewish foes, and
the third part celebrates his victory over
the Edoiulles. The rendering of Capt.
Keuczynski represents the result of "nine 1
years' toil and labor."
Coca.
"Coca," the "beloved narcotic of the |
Peruvian Indian. ' was first named botani- j
cally through the lalx>rs of Joseph de Jus- |
sieu. The history of the most noted botan- ]
ist is a melancholy one. lie left France in
1735, in the memorable expedition of M
La Condamiue, and after M. La Condamine
left South America, M. Jussicu continued
his botanical researches, inuking numerous
journeys on foot, notably tlio.-e to the cin
chona regions. The result of fifteen years'
labors were contained in certain cases of
dried plants, etc., and a native servant at
H uenos Ay res. thinking these cases con tai iied
money, stole them, and this loss had such
an effect on poor Jussieu that he returned
to France in 1771 deprived of reason.
The Coca is the great source of comfort
and enjoyment to the Peruvian Indian. It
is to him what the kava-kava is to the
South Sea Islander, the betel to the Hindoo
and Malay, and tobacco to the rest of man
kind, but witli tiiis difference it produces in
vigorating effects. The Peruvian ludian
looks upon coca with veneration. In the
palmy days of the Uncas or Yucas, coca
was sacrificed to the sun, the high priest or
Huillac Uuiu chewed it during the ceremo
ny, and before the arrival of the Spaniards,
c>ca w.is used in lieu of money. After
the Spanish conquest, much was done to
prescribe its use, because as a council of
bishops held in 1589, said it was a "useless
and pernicious leaf, and on account of the
belief staled to be entertained by the In
dians, that the habit of chewing cocoa gave
them strength, which is an illusion of the
devil." Coca, indeed, from its popularity,
being used by about eight millions of peo
ple, has always had a great commercial im
portance, and one viceroy, Don Francisco
Toledo, issued no less than seventy ordi
nances concerning coca in the space of four
years (157U-1574).
The coca plant is a scrub of four to six
feet high, with straight and alternate
branches and leaves like those of the tea
plant, and is cultivated at elevatious of
from 5,000 to 0,000 feet above the level of
the sea IU the warm valleys of the eastern
slopes of the Andes. Here the only al
ternations of climate is from wet to dry,
frost is unknown, and it rains more or less
every mouth of the year. The seeds are
sown on the surface ol the soil as 9ot n as
the rainy season commences, and begin to
sprout in a fortnight, being carefully
watered, and protected from the sun by a
thatched root. The following year the
seedlings are transplanted in a soil care
fully broken up and freed from weeds. The
ancient custom was to raise the plants in
terraces on the hillsides, but now planta
-1 tious on the level ground are resorted to,al
though Indians aver that plants raised un
the former conditions yield a much supe
rior quality of leaf. At the end of eighteen
months the first harvest is ready, and the
1 picking of the leaves, performed by women
and children, is very carefully proceeded
with, so as not to injure the young and still
tender shoots. As soon as one crop of
leaves is removed, if well watered, and the
ground carefully weeded, another crop is
ready iu about forty days. A plant con
tinues to yield for About forty years, and
Dr. Pocppig gives the prolit of a coca plan
tation as about 45 per cent. Each picker
carries a piece of cloth,iu which the leaves,
plucked one by one, are placed. These
leaves ate then taken to the drying yard,
formed of slate flags. Here the leaves are
spread out in thin layers,and carefully dried
iu the sun. Too much exposure to the sun
spoils the llavor of the leaf, and if heaped
too much together, the leaves ferment and
become fetid. As soou as dried, the leaves
are packed in hags made of banana leaves,
with au outside covering of cloth,or packed
tightly iu large parcels of al>out 50 lb
each.
In the Sandia district of Caravaya. two
varieties of coca are recognized, the Ypara
and Hatun Yuuca, the latter having a lar
ger leaf lhau the former.
Iu Boliva, coca is treated as a
government monopoly, aud the right is
generally farmed out. Iu 1850, coca
brought into that country's exchequer a
sum of $200,000. The whole yield of coca
iu South Aiueriea is estimated at thirty
millions of pounds. Coca sopu deteriorates
in keeping, Indians treat it as valueless it
kept longer than seven months.
Such is the faith in coca, that it is be
lie veil if u dying man can but taste a coca
leaf when placed ou his tongue, his future
bliss is assured. No Indian is without his
vusjta or coca bag made of llama cloth,
aud three times a day, sitting down, he
takes leal by leaf and rolls them up iu his
mouth till he forms a ball. Then applying
a small quantity of powder consisting of
carbonate of potash, made by burning the
stalks of the qniuoa plant, mixed with
lime and water he goes on his way rejoic
ing. The use of coca is widely spread. The
shepherd on the cold slopes of the Andes
has but this and a little maize as his sole
□ot.r.shmeut, and the runner messenger
looks to it as his solace aud support. As to
the properties of coca, it seems very evi
dent that it allows of a greater amount of
fatigue, with a lesser amount of nourish
ment, aud prevents difficulty of respiration
in ascending steep mountain slopes, it
has an agreeable and aromatic taste,accom
panied by a slignt irritation, which excites
the flow of saliva. When made into a tea,
in taste it is like that of green lea, and ef
fectually prevents drowsiness. Applied ex
ternally as a poultice, it moderates rheu
matic pains, brought on by exposure to
cold and wet, aud also cures headache.
Mr. Markmau chewed coca leaf very
frequently,and states that iie found it to
produce an agreeable soothing feeling, that
he could endure louger abstinence from
f< od with less inconvenience, and that
when using it, he could asceud precipitous
mountain sides with a feeling of lightness
and elasticity, and without losing breath,
lie also considers it the leas* injurous of
all other like substances, even when taken
in excess, and at the same time, the most
soolhiug aud iuvigoratiug.
Traveling 1 lu Olden Time*.
A careful inspection of the vehicles of
former times lea-is us to the conclusion
that our forefathers were lined with zinc
and copper-fastened—for nothing short of
it could have withstood tuv, joltings and
jarringa, the bouncings and bumpings en
tailed upon those who used auy other
method of locomotion except that which
nature provides. The chariot in which
General and lire. Washington went to
Philadelphia upon his election to the Presi
idency was no doubt an instrument
of torture. To the discomforts of this
rambling old carriage may be added, for
the General, the incessant wagging of Mrs.
Washington's tongue, for it is a well-known
fact, that Martha was or a shrewish nature,
and made no bones of giving the Genera)
her views in a very forcible manner. The
method of traveling which they pursued
gave publicity to the fact that the General
had a curtain lecture every night for a
a night cap. In the course of their jour
ney they arranged to spend the nights at
the houses of the gentry scattered along
between Mount Vernon and Pniladelphia—
and Martha was often heard to nag her
lord and master until a loud suore an
nounced that the General was safe in the
land of diearns from all worldly aunoy
ances.
The chariot was the acknowledged mark
of aristocracy, A journey in these days
entailed a retinue, somewhat after the fol
lowing order:
1. Mareter and Missis in a carriage.
2. Marster's "boy" 011 horseback, with
a led horse for Marster to ride when he
wished to stretch his legs.
3. A wagon coutaining two hair trunks
and Missis's maid.
'the rate of progression was about four
miles an hour.
The habit of carrying servants even on
neighborly visits, obtaiued in Virginia and
Maryland until the abolition of slavery. A
form of entertaining, called "spending the
day," was in fashion. This consisted in
going to a friend's house early in the morn
ing, and staying until late in the evening,
consuming the interval in a succession of
meals. Besides the visitors, the coachman
and horses, there was usually a "maid."
who sat ou the rack behind the carriage,
swinging her legs in ecstatic delight at the
prospect of "going abroad."
Chaises were the only two-seated vehicles
in use, and were something like a modern
top buggy, except that it had but two
wheels. Consequently, going up hill, the
occupants were being spilled out behind,
and going down hill they were spilled out
befoie.
A Matter of History.
In the year 1785, the State of Franklin
was formed out of a portion of North Caro
lina, embracing the present territory of the
State of Tennesse, and the Legislature of
the aforesaid State of Franklin passed the
following fee and salary bill: ilis Excel
lency the Governor, per anum, 1,000 deer
skins; his Honor the Chief Justice, 500
deer skins; the Secretary to his Excellency
the Governor, 500 raccoon skins; the
Treasurer of the State, 450 raccoou skius;
each county clerk, 300 beaver skins; Clerk
of the House of Commons, 200 raccoon
skins; member of the Assembly, per diem,
three raccoon skins; justices' fee for sign
ing a warrant, one muskrat skin; to the
constable for serving a warrant, one mink
skin. Enacted into a law tbe 28th day of
October, 1789, under the gieat seal of the
State. This seems to be a mattei of
historical truth, just as tobacco was once
made to answer the purpose of currency in
Virginia.
The Dltfimlon of ieeds.
1M a very large number of cases the dif
fusion of seeds is effected by animals. To
ibis class belong the fruits and berries. In
them an outer rtesliy portion becomes pulpy,
and generally sweet, inclosing the seeds
It is remarkable that such fruits, in order,
doubtless to attract animals, are, like flow
ers, brightly colored—as, for instance, the
cherry, currant, apple, peach, plum, straw
>>erry, raspberry and many others. This
color, moreover, is uot preseut in the un
ripe fruit, but is rapidly developed at
maturity. In such cases the actual seed is
generally protected by a dense, sometimes
almost stony, covering, so that it escapes
digestion, while its germination is perhaps
hastened by the heat of the animal's body,
ll may be said that the skin of apple aud
pear pips is comparatively soft; but then
iliey arc imbedded in a stringy core, which
is seldom eaten. These colored fruits form
a considerable part of the food of monkeys
in the tropical rcgious of the earth, and we
can I think, hardly doubt that these ani
mals are guided by the colors, just as we
are, in selecting the ripe fruit. This haS a
curious bearing on an interesting question
as to the power of distinguishing color
possessed by our ancestors in bygone times.
Magnus au.i Geiger, ielying on the well
known fact that the ancient languages are
poor in words for color, and that IU the
oldest books —as, for instauce, in the Vcdaa,
the Kendavesta, the Old Testament, and
the writings of Homer or Hcsiod—though
of course, the heaveus are referred to over
and over again, its blue color is never
dwelt on, have argued that the aucieuls
were very deficient in the power of distin
guishing colors, and esjiecially blue. In
our own country Mr. Gladstone has lent
the weight of his great authority to the
same conclusion. For my part 1 can not
accept tiiis view. There are it seems to
me, very strong reasons against it, into
which 1 can not, of COUISJ, now enter,
aud though i should rely mainly on other
considerations, the colors of fruits are not,
1 think, without significance. If monkeys
and apes could distinguish thrn, surely
we may infer that even tke most savage of
men could do so too. Zeuxis would never
have deceived the birds if be hail not had a
fair perception of color. Iu these instauccs
of colored fruits the fleshy edible part
more or less surrounds the true seeds; in
others the actual seeds themselves become
edib'.e. In the former the edible part
serves as a temptation to animals; in the
latter it is stored up for the use of the
plantß itself. When, therefore, the seeds
themselves are edible, they are generally
protected by more or less hard or bitter en
velopes, for instance the horse chestnut,
beech, Spanish chest nut, walnut, Jcc. That
these seeds are used for food by squirrels
and other animals is, howevei, by no means
necessarily an evil to the plant, for the re
suit is that they are often carried some
distance and then dropped, or stored up
and forgotten, so that in this way they get
carried away from the parent tree.
ltuulouK or Bolls.
"Is it against the laws of this city to
have corns on your feet?" inquired Theo
dore Rembo as be found himself before the
bar of justice, m Detroit.
"No, sir, nor on the top of your head it
you waut 'em there. The city ordinances
of Detroit and the laws of Michigan are
very liberal on the subject of corns."
"Well, sir, last night I was walking
along one of our streets, hobbling because
my corns hurt me so, when a fiend grabbed
me by the collar, called me a drunkard, and
dragged me to a dungeon."
"How awful mean in him!" sighed the
court.
"VVlieu I have corns can't I hobble if its
more convenient than walking?"
"Certainly."
"Well, corns was what ailed me, and I
demand that the officer apologize to me aud
that 1 he set at liberty."
"Let us listen to the officer's story first.
Go ahead Mr. Bluecoat."
"This man," began the officer, "bumped
against at least a dozen pedestrians, tell
sgaiust a window aud broke it, and was
lying down on the car track when I gath
ered liiui in. lie suielled so bad of whiskey
when 1 brought him iu that we had to burn
coffee in the room."
"Well I" queried the court as he turned
to the prisoner.
"I say it was corns."
"How many have you got?"
"Ten."
"Show 'em up. I haven't seen a real
old fashioned corn in about eighteen years.'
"Do you think I'm going to pull my
boots off before the crowd? I guess I've
got a little modesty left,"
"Theu I'll lake care of it for you. 1
shall exile you for thirty days."
"For what?"
'•Corns and modesty, alias drunk aud
disorderly. That's all, my mau, and now
please fall back and give some of the other
hungry mortals a chance to say they have
bunions or boils."
Do Your Work Weil.
Daniel Webster gives an account of a
petty insurance case that was brought to him
when a youug lawyer in Portsmouth. Oniy
a small amount was involved and a twenty
dollar fee was all thai was promised. He
saw that, to do his clients full justice, a
journey to Boston, to consult the Law
Library, would be desirable. He would
be out of pocket by such an expedition,
aud for his time lie would receive no ade
quate compensation. After a little hesita
tion, he determined to do his very best,
cost what it might. He accordingly went
to Boston, looked up the authorities, and
gained the case. Years after this, Webster,
theu famous, was passiug through New
York. An important insurance case was
to be tried the day after his arrival, and
one of the counsel had been suddenly taken
ill. Money was no object, and Webster
was begged to name his terms and conduct
the case. "1 told theui," said Mr. Web
ster, "that it was preposterous to expect
me to prepare a legal argument at a few
hours' notice. They insisted, however,
that I should look at the papers; and this,
after some demur, I consented to do. Well,
it was my old twenty-dollar case over
again, and, us I never forget anything, I
had all the authorities at my fingers' ends.
The Court knew that I had no time to pre
pare, and were astonished at the range ot
my requirements. So, you see, I was
handsomely paid both in fame and money
for that journey to Boston; and the moral
is that good work is rewarded in the end,
though, to be sure, one's self-approval
should be enough.
A Kyutlcai Plant.
Human cunning and human credulity
have dowered with mystery certain plants
winch are worthy of being considered the
most beautiful and passive of creative ob
jects. One plant, at least, hss been said
to utter shrieks in -being torn from the
earth, and to have avenged the violence by
causing the death of him who removed it.
This plant was the mandragora of the
poets—the mandrake of Soriptores—a
species of the Salanoe or nightshade tribe,
the belief in whose qualities as a sedative
or a charm was as old as the days of the
childless Rachel Indigenous t D the Fast,
where probably its uses as an anodyne and
soporific were early known to the initiated,
it may be that, in order to enhance the
wonder of its effects and prevent the ex
tirpation of the root by its too common
use, miraculous powers were imputed to
it, and superstition hedged it around with
fabled terrors. The evil reputation of the
plant procured it subsequently the name of
Atropa Mandrayora, by which our old
est botanists distinguish it—-a name bor
rowed from the most terrible of the Fates,
Atropos, and since transferred to its rela
tive, Atropa Belladonna (dwale, or
"deadly nightshade"). Bo potent and
valuable were the medical uses of the root,
at a time when few anodyes were known,
that the ancient Romans made it the sut>
ject of a weird ritual, without which they
would have deemed it impious to have
taken it from the earth. The operator
stood with his back to the wind, drew
three circles round the root with a point
of a sword, poured a libation on the ground,
and, turning to the west, began to dig it
up. The root of the mandrake, a plaut
with a tap root, frequently forked, as we •
see that of the radish, and covered with
fibrous rootlets, was easily convertible into
a grotesque likeness of the human form.
In the time of Henry VIII and Elizabeth,
little images made of mandrake roots,
called libraries were imported in large
number from Germany, and found a ready
sale in England. The fable of the won
drous powers of these vegetable idols was
easily accepted by our superstitious ances
tors, and the peddlers who traveled about
from place to place with cases of them
drove a brisk trade. Bur Francis Bacon
had them in lis mind's eye when we wrote,
"Borne plants there are, but rare, that have
a uio9sy or downy root, and likewise that
have a number of thread-like beards, as
the mandrake, whereof witches and im
postors make an ugly image, giving it ths
form of & face at tod of the root, leaving
those strings to make a broad beard to the
toot. It is to the credit of the old herba
lists, Gerard and Turner, that they both
essayed, without fear of consequences, to
dig up and examine for themselves the
dreaded mandrake,and lost no time in pub
lishing the fallacy of the weird stones told
of it
Under the Snow.
The remarkable case of Elizabeth Wood
cock, who was buried under the snow, is
especially striking. In the winter of 1799
she was returning on horseback from Cam
bridge (England) to her home m a neigh
boring village, and having dismounted for
a few minutes the horse ran away from
her. At 7 o'clock on a winter evening she
sat down under a thicket, cold, tired and
disheartened. Bnow came on; she was too
weak to rise, and the consequence was
thai by the morning the snow had heaped
around her to a height of two feet above
her head as she sat. She had strength
enough to thrust a twig, with her handker
chief at the top of it, through the snow,
to serve as a signal and to admit a little
daylight. Torpor supervenee, and she
knew little more of what passed around
her. Night succeeded day, and day again
broke, but there she remained, motionless
and foodless. Not senseless, however, for
she could bear church bells and village
sounds—nay, even the voice and conver
sation of some of her neighbors. Four
whole days she thus remained—one single
pinch of snuff being her only substitute for
food during this time, and this even she
found had lost its pungency. On the fifth
day a thaw commenced, and she suffered
greatly, but still without being able to ex
tricate herself. It was not until the eighth
day that the handkerchief was espied by a
villager, who with many others, had long
been seeking for her. Stooping down he
said:
"Are you there, Elizabeth Woodcock ?"
Bhe had strength enough to reply, faint
ly:
"Dear John Stittle, I know your voice.
For God's sake help me out."
She died about half a year afterward,
through mismanagement of frost-bitten
toes; but it was fully admitted that no one,
unless cased in snow, could have lived out
of those eight days and nights in such a
place without food.
vbngloc Tnelr Base.
The legend runs that the fine Norman
Church of Godshill, in the Isle of Wight,
was to have been built in the valley, but
the builders every morning found the pre
vious day's work had been destroyed du
ring the night and the stones carried to the
top of the hill. Considering this as a Di
vine indication where the holy structure
was to be built, they accordingly reared it
on that prominent site, where for
miles round it still forms a graceful aud
beautiful object. A similiar legend is re
lated with reference to the Church of Ste.
Marie du Castel, in Guersney, where it is
currently reported that fairies where the
agents, while others assert it was the work of
angels. Indeed it would appear that in days
gone by the invisible beings, of whatev.r
nature they were who accordiug to tradi
tion, so often interfered iu the building of
some sacred edifice, generally selected for
Its site the most inconvenient spot, and not
infrequently a steep hill. The Church of
Breedcn in Leicestershire, for instance,
stands on a high hill, with the village as
its foot. Tradition, however, says that
when the site of the church was first fixed
upon, a central spot in the village was
chosen. Tne foundations were not only
dug, but the builders commenced the fa
bric. It was to no purpose; for all they
built in the course of the day was carried
away by doves during tne night-lime, and
skilullly bui t exactly in the same maimer
on the hill where the church stands. Both
founder and workmen, awed and terrified
by this extraordinary procedure, were
afraid tr build the church on its original
site, and agreed to finish the one begun by
the doves.
NO. 25.