VOL. LV. HAUTKR, AUCTIONEER, REBERSBURG. Pa. J C. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Next Door to Journal Store, Millhkih, Pa. HOUSE, (Opposite Court House.) H. BROCKEBHOFF, Proprietor. Wm. McKkkvkr, Manager. Good sample rooms ou first floor. Free bus to and from all trains. Special rates to jurors and wltne-ses. Strictly First Class. IRVIX HOUSE. (Most Central Hotel In the City,) Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock Ilaven, Ta. S. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commercial Travelers on first floor. D. H. MINGLE, Physician and Surgeon, MAIN Street, Milliikim, Pa. JJR. JOHN F. lIARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Olliee in 2d story of Tomlinson'a Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, Milt.hkim, Pa. BF. KINTKR, • FASHIONABLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER Shop next door to Foote's Store, Main St., Boots, Shoes and Gaiters made to order, and sat isfactory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt ly and cheaply, and in a neat style. 9. K. PKalk. 11. A. MCKRK. PEALE & MeKEE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Office opposite Court House, Bellefonte, Pa. C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office In Garman'a new building. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, FA. Office on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond, Y° cum 4 HASTINGS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. High Street, opposite First National Bank. C.HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices In all the courts of Centre County. Bpec &l attention to Collections. Consultations In German or English. F. REEDER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTK, PA. All bus'ness promptly attended to. Collection of claims a speciality. J. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart. JgEAVER A GEPHART, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street, North of High. A. MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA Office on Woodrlng'a Block, Opposite Court House. p S. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA Consultations In English or German. Offioe In Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. O BELLEFONTE, PA J in theroonu formerly occupied by the A LOVK SONG. O. lassie wilt thou gang with m* A down the meadows greet) ? The pretty thrush sings merrily The lilac leaves between; The ox-eyed daisy noddeth low A' through thy locks of Jet And wherefore should 1 gang with tt. < A down the meadows green, K'eti though the thrush slug tuerrU) The lilac leaves between? Low nods the modest daisy flow er The soft wind bloweth free; Hut at this early matin hour Why should 1 gaug with thee? The Ivy swingeth on the wall. With sunlight glints between; o lassie, thou so fair and tall, Couie down the meadows green: And by yon brook grow violets blue, Like unto thy sweet eyes O come and hear my love so true - The love that never dies. Yea, laddie, an' that be the why, 1 fain would gaug along— For true, true love doth never the Hut yearly waxeth stroug, 0 winds and flow ers, and Ivy vine. How sweet you be to day 1 O yellow sun, hew bright you shine! Come, laddie, let's away I WHOSE FAI'LT. Fred Dayton assisted his wife's cou sin, Jennv Searles, into the carriage that was waiting for her at the station. She had been his wife's bridesmaid, and he sighed as he looked in her smil ing face. It was three years since that so-called happy event occurred, but though she was a trifle more staid and dignified, she had the same happy smile, neat, trim ap pearance that he so well remembered. "You will find Fanny a good deal al tered," he said, as he took a seat by her side. Jenny eas a somewhat surprised glance at the grave face of the speaker. " Why, how? Has she been ill? 44 Well, no! I can't say that she has been ill," was the hesitating reply; 44 but she—she's changed. Marriage don't seem to havo agreeed with her very well." The laugh that ended these words sounded rather forced. Perhaps he f a lt the implication conveyed by them; or, rather, the fact itself. Jenny looked earnestly into the frank, kindly face of the speaker. Was it his fault?—for there must be a fault somewhere. The house, as the carriage stopped in front of it, looked as if it was all shut up. If Jenny had expected to see her con sin in the hall she was diss Fred looked slightly disconcerted as he glanced around. 44 Fanny's iu her room, I suppose; I'll hunt her up." 44 Ah! there you are, Fan." Here a dowdily-dressed woman made her appearance at the other end of the hall, whom Jenny would have failed to recognize had it not been for the warm embrace and eager greeting. After leading the way to the dark and rather untidy sitting-room, Fanny's an imation all at once forsook her, and, throwing herself upon the sofa, she burst inth tears, much to Jenny's sur prise and consternation. 44 The sight of you reminds me so of the happy past!" sighed Fanny, as she wiped away her tears. 44 And the present is no less happy, I hope?" suggested Jenny, feeling for her cousin's husband, who looked fool ishly conscious that he was m some way considered to be at fault. Fanny's only reply was a mournful shake of the head, which, rightly inter preted, meant that she never expected to be so happy again as long as she lived. Putting his hands in his pocket Fred walked to the window, whisting softly to himst If with an ill dissembled air of unconcern. " If you knew how that noise goes through my head, Fred!" remoustrated Fanny, as she rang for Ann to tuke away her cousin's things. Fred ceased whistling, taking him self out of the room at the same time. Fanny gave her cousin a look, as much as to say, "You see what I have to put up with?" As soon as the door closed after her husband Fanny's countenance lost its disconsolate, abused expression, and she oommenced talking with her visitor with considerable spirit and animation. Jenny now had an opportunity to ob serve her more particularly. It was nearly dinner-time, and still she had on the calico wrapper that she had worn at breakfast; not much scaled, but still faded and wrinkled. She wore neither cuffs nor collar, while her pretty brown hair—pretty when properly cared for—was smoothed over the top and tucked back of her ears in tangled bunches. Her feet were thrust into a pair of old slippers, much too large for her and down at the heels. As Jenny looked at her she could hardly believe that it was her cousin, Fanny Burns, who always used to look so fresh and neat, so dmiling and happy. From the habit of giving way to all her peevish and discontented feelings as they arose, it seemed impossible for her to look pleasant now, when she tried ; while her very voice, which used to have such a clear and cheerful ring, had be come infected by them. In answering and asking questions the time passed rapidly until it was nearly Mil.Ml KIM. PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10,1881. time for dinner. " 1 had no idea it was so near dinner time," Maid Jennv, rising to her feet, as she glanced at her watch. " 1 shall hardly giro you time to dress." 44 O! I sha'n't make any change in my dress; there'll he nobody hut my husband at dinner, and you won't mind." " No, certainly, I sha'n't mind." There was more than this on Jenny's lips, hut she cheeked herself. This was not the right time to speak, even if she had any right to speak at all. There could scarcely he a greater con trast than tlio*e two presented at the dinner-table, both of nearly the same age, and both endowed with more than usual personal attractions. At the time of her marriage. Fanny had been called the prettier; but it'was quite the contrary now, and all the dif ference lay in the dress and expression. Not that Jenny's attire was either gay or expensive. The dress was a simple merino, simply made and trimmed, hut it fitted neatly the neat waist of the wearer. The cuffs and collar were white and fresh, with a knot of bright rihhous at her throat. On the contrary, Fanny wore the same faded, ill-titting dress of the morn ing, with the addition—if addition it could he called—of a half-soiled collar, pinned away and fastened with a hunch of dingy ribbon. It was impossible for Fred not to no tice the difference, and making a men tal comment on it not very flattering to the wife of his choice. The contrast was too marked to escape her notice, though it was easy to see that she ascribed the change to their different conditions. "Ah! you won't think it's worth while to fuss so much after you're married, Jen," she said, with a laugh. 44 Perhaps Miss Jenny will think her husband worth dressing for," retorted Fred. 44 If she does, I hope it will be for a husband who cares enough for her soci ety to spend one evening at home out of six, Fred turned red with anger and mor tification. It was evident to Jenny that this would not have been the last of it had she not been present. She hastened to change the subject, lieiug aided in tnc endeavor- by the ad vent of baby. It was a lovely child, and one would suppose would he an additional tie to hind their hearts together, hut instead of that it was a constant bone of conten tion. Thus matters went on for some days. Jenny observed with pain that Fred was in the habit of spending most of bis eve nings out. For a while after she came he stayed in. hut mortified as well as ir ritated by his wife's slovenly appear ance and fretful complaining, he gradu ally absented himself, until he rarely spent an evening at home. "Is Mr. Dayton out this evening!" inquired Jenny, as, entering the sitting room, she glanced around. 4 'You never need ask, that question," returned Fanny; " he's always out." Jenny had long wished foj an opj>or tunity to talk with her cousin. After a moment's grave silence ehe said: "And do you know what the end of this will be, Fanny?" 44 Ruin, I suppose," was the bitter re ponse. 44 But there is no help for it, as I see. It is something for which lam not responsible." 44 But I think you are, Fanny." "I?" replied Fanny, opening her eyes widely; 44 what can you mean?" "Just what I say, my dear cousin. When you married Frederick Dayton, no man was more domestically inclined or fonder of his wife and home than he." " He's got over it bravely!" exclaimed Fanny, with a bitter laugh. 44 He don't act as if lie hud the slightest affection for me, and seems to prefer any place to his home." "And is not this in a great measure your own fault? Nay, look not so an gry, dear cousin; I love you too well to see you recklessly throwing away your happiness and his. Did not the altera tion you speak of spring from the change in you? We cannot love what is un lovely. No man can love a wife who takes 110 pains to make her person neat and attrative, or a home that is full of hickeriugs and discomfort. Before your marriage you would have been ter rified at the idea of his catching a glimpse of you in the attire in which you now allow him to see you all day. Why should you seek to look less pleas ing in his eyes now than then?" Fanny glanced at the opposite mirror that revealed so unflattering a tale, coloring with anger and mortification. "It is impossible for a married women to dress as she did when a girl, and 110 man has a right to expect it. "Every man has a right to expect his wife to have sufficient respect for him to present a neat and tidy appearance. You did not consider it too much trouble to dress when Judge Bairy called on yon. And last evening, at the party, when Mr. Howard picked up your hankercliief, you received it with a look and smile such as I have not seen you bestow upon your husband, even when he took twice the pains to please you!" "You are very severe,"said Fanny, her eyes tilling with tears, "Faithful are the wounds of a friend. My dear Fanny, two ways are open to you. You can cither make home to your husband the dearest place in the world, and yourself oue of the most be loved ami happy of wives, or you can alienate his affections, driving him to haunts and companionship that will wreck the peace and happiness of both.' Here they were interrupted by the ad vent of visitors. Jenny returned home the next morn ing, so she had no opportunity of know ing what effect her earnest ap}H*al had upon the better feeling of her cousin. It was some months before Fanny and Jenny met again, and then it was at the marriage that transformed the latter into the loved and loving wife of the husband of her choice. The happy smile on the face of Fred, and w hit h was reflected back from the smiling eyes of life* wife, told of the happy change that had been wrought. 4 "Fred spends all his evenings at home now," said Fanny, giving her cou sin a significant lodk. "Why shouldn't I?" cried the happy husband, when I 4ave the dearest wife and the pleasantest home in the world!" IVrry'a I'M Victory. Sixty cieht years ago a battle was fought on Lake Erie between a fleet commanded by Commodore Oliver H. Perry, then 27 years of age, and a British squadron com manded by Commodore Barclay. The American command ccnsisted of nine ves sels, viz.: The flagship Lawrence, 20 guns; the Niagara, 20 guus; the Caledonia, 3 guns; the Ariel, 4 guns; the Scorpion, 2 guns; the Soiners, 2 guns; the Trippe, Ti gress and Porcupine, 1 guu each. The British squadron consisted of flagship De- troit, 19 guns; Queen Charlotte, 17 guns; Hunter, 10 guns; Lady Provost, 13 guns; Little Belt, 8 guns; Chippewa, 1 gun and 2 swivels. In cannon the British outnum bered the American! by 10. Six of the vessels were built a! Erie, under the in spection and direction of Perry, in about 90 days, and by the aid of camels were tloated over the bar which hemmed them in, equipped ready to sail—a work at that day of no common magnitude. When the fleet met, the Lawrence bore at her msst head a flag inscribed With the last words of the brave commander of the Chesa peake, "Don'tgive up the ship.' 1 The battle raged with iuteuse severity on both sides. The late Dr. Usher Parsons, who was surgeon in-chief on board the Law rence, 6M}B that "for more than two long hours little could he heard but the deafen ing thunders of our "Cwn broadsides, the crash of balls dashing through the timbers, and the shrieks of the wouuded. These were brought down faster than 1 could at tend to them, farther than to stay the bleeding, or suppoit the shattered limb with splints, and pass them forward upon the berth deck. Two or three were killed near me. after being wounded. * * * When the battle was raging most severely, Midshipman Lamb came down wiih bis arm badly fractured; 1 applied a splint ahd requested him to go forward and lie down; as he was leaving me and while my baud was on him, a cannon ball struck him in the side and dashed kirn against the othor side of the room, which instantly termin ated biß sufferings. Charles Pohig, a Nar ragansett Indian, who was badly wounded, s iffered in like manner. * * * Lieut. Varuell had his scalp badly torn, and came below wit J the blood streaming over bis face; some lint was Lastily applied and contined v. ith a large bandauua, with di rections to report himself for better dress ing after the battle, aud he insisted on re turning to the deck.'' The duties of Dr. Parsons were arduous and exhausting, and were performed with persistent fidelity, until the last man had keen cared for. He experienced several hairbreadth escapes, aud alter the close of the war pursued ms profession for many years in this city, hon ored witli a professorship iu Brown uuiver sity, aud respected by lis fellow citizens. The Lawrence, against which the heav iest tire ot the enemy was at first directed was terribly cut up, aud rendered nearly unmanageable. In llr; midst of a storm of sbot, Commodore Perry quitted hei and proceeding to the Niagara, took com mand, brought her up into close quar ters with the enemy, aud soon insured victory. From Put-in-Bay, he wrote to Gen. Harrison this terse and comprehen sive sentence: "Dear General: We have met the enemy and they are ours." Un the same day lie wrote to the Secretary of t'ie Navy: "It has pleased tLe Almighty to give to the arms of the United btates a signal victory over their enemies on this lake. The British squadron, consisting of two ships, two brigs, one sloop and one schooner, have this moment surrendered to the force under my command atter a sharp conflict." The hss of the Americans iu this battle was 27 killed and 90 wounded. Uf these 22 were killed aud 01 wouuded on board the Lawrence. Tne British loss was 41 killed aud 94 wounded. Commo dore Barclay bore tesiimony to the human ity of the Americans in caring for his wounded men. The battle wus an impor tant one iu its results. It gave to our government the command of Lake Eiie, which up to that date, had been controlled by the British. With this success grave and vital issues were connected. In com municating this achievement to Congress, President Madison used the following com plimentary language: "The conduct of Capt. Perry, adioit as it was daring, and which was so weil seconded by his com rades, justly entitles them to the admira lion aud gratitude of their couutry, aud will fill an early page iu its naval annals with a victory never surpassed iu luster, however inucu it may have been in magnitude.'' The attempt in subsequent years to wrest the glory of this victory from Commodore Perry, and transfer the chaplet to the brow of his second iu com mand, Elliott, proved 4t a lame aud impo tent conclusion.'' bo long as bravery, skill ana moral worth hold a place in public i stimation, the roll of fame will re tain high upon it the name of Perry, while by every Rhode Islander the names of Brownell, Turner, Champlin. Almy.Breese, lay lor, Par ous, Alexander Perry and their Rhode Islaud compeers, will ever be held in honor. A Trickster tricked. Even Hemann, the greatest of all liv ing tricksters, and whose conversance with the black art should, one would think, place him beyond the possibility of being on the wrong side of a trick, in himself once in a while victimized in a manner that raises a loud laugh. One night the magician had the most recent laugh placed against him. In his pro gramme he introduces his marvelous cabinet, a large institution like a two story refrigerator, with double doors opening so as to expose the whole in terior, which iscrossbarred in the man ner made familiar to the public in con struction of tables for living heads ami half women. In this cabinet he seciets a sailor, who mysteriously disappears, although the audience can see under and all around the affair, and two gentlemen are sitting ou the stage within three yards of it. The sailor cannot jossibl v leave the cabinet without being seen, and the trick consists in so disposing of the panels of the interior that, although the doors are swung wide, the eye cuu not detect any change in the appearauce of the compartment. There are several variations of the trick. The sailor in stantly releases himself from a pair of stocks when locked inside. He also gets out of a securely fastened and rope bouml trunk, and there are numerous hands *liown at the openings in the doors, but the most marvelous feature of the whole thing is the appearance of a little colored lsy in the auditorium less than a minute after he has been hustled into the cabinet. The trick went well enough until this stage of the per formance was reached: The boy was rushed into the cabinet; Hermann open ed the doors a moment aftreward and the boy was gone. "80-y! 80-y!" the magician shouted. "W'ere air you, boy?" But no "boy" showed up in the uu ditorium. The call was repeated a numlter of rimes, and Hermann was at last almost in despair. At last one of the ushers ran up the parquet aisle, making directly for the magician. "W'ere eez debo-y?" Hermann shout ed. "You are notlieem. Yen luke too pale." The usher grabbed the magician's left ear and whispered a few hurried words into it. He told him that the colored boy was then on his way to the calal>oose in the arms of a tall policeman, and would not be able to finish his share of the trick until he was bailed out. Her mann could not have been more astonish ed if he hod been struck with a brick. He slammed the doors of the cabinet angrily, told the audience that his "bo-y" had been arrested by a police officer, and he would have to bring the trick to a close without the usual triumphant denouement. The explanation of the difficulty is very easy: The boy, a smart 14-vear old boy whom Hermann secured in Memphis, in making liis way out of the cabinet runs for the back door of the stage, and then, with the fleetness of a twolegged Iroquois, flies through the alley and around the corner into the entrance of the theatre just in time to answer "Here I am" to the magician's "80-y w 'ere air you?" As he darted out of the alley the boy ran into an offi cer's arms. The policeman, imagining that the little fellow hid stolen some thing, carried him off to the station, wholly unconscious of the fact that he had quite spoiled one of Hermann's best tricks. A light with a Rat. A few nights ago a Hart for J man beard a rat in his sleeping-room, and on striking a light found that his rat ship had evidently lost his way, for he was running wildly about seeking a place to escape. The gentleman opened a door to get a broom or some other weapon with which to dispatch him, and the frightened rat. taking advant age of the opening, scampered across the room over the man's bare feet and out of the door before of could be closed. The rat ran down the back stairs and in to the kitchen, followed by the man clad only in his night robe with a kerosene lamp in one hand and a broom in the other. Before beginning the fight in earnest; the gentleman let in his young dog, thinking this would be a good lime to initiate the animal into the mystery of rat killing. The dog got his eye up on the rat—a large old fellow—and then skulked off into the corner and lay down. The gentleman, seeing his "purp" was not to be depended upon, "went for" the rat with his broom. He brought the weapon down with a vengeance, but like Patrick's flea, the rat wasn't there. After two or three miss-strikes the man's "dander riz" and the battle was vigo rously waged. The rat circled round and round the room followed by his hu man foe with higli-lifted lamp and swing ing broom. This animated scene also frightened the dog and he went round and round the room with master and rat, adding to the uproar. The rat was so desperately scared he at last, in sheer desperation, sprang towards the man, ran up his legs and half way up his body before he was dislodged. This sudden onslaught caused the gentleman to retire for a few minutes, and when he returned he was in full dress with rub ber boots on and breeches legs tucked iu at the top. No more rats on un- covered legs in his'n. Now he was ready for the fray again. But where w as the rat? Ho was nowhere to be seen. The gentleman looked in every nook and corner for him, but he was not to be found. The dog still occupied his cor ner and was trembling as though badly frightened. His master spoke kindly to him, and the animal came toward him when lo! the rat was exposed to view. 11l his fright he had taken refuge under the dog. Tlio gentleman once more went for the rat and the same scene was repeated, the rat again running to the dog for safety. He was dislodged from this retreat a second time, and once more, when hard pressed, he turned up on his two-legged adversary. But lie fore the rat could clamber up his person a blow from the broom stunned him and a boot heel finished the tight. The skirmish lasted übout half an hour, no rat ever before making a more desperate straggle for his life. But the odds were "agin him" from the start, and one more victory nnut be credited to the enemy of the rat race. A Vvlluwitou Ih-ur Story. The Fire Hole Hotel is located on the west side of the lower basin at the foot of the mountain, near a good spring of water, and from which can be had a line view of the valley. Marshall, the proprietor, has a thirty years' lease from the government, and will odd to his house as the business of the public de mands. This is the only house in the Pork beside the one at the entrance. It is a wild and solitary place to spend the winter, which Marshall and his wife, with a young lady companion, did for the first time lust winter, and in this connection he told mc a bear story. He said that after visitors ceased coming tt. the Park last full he went to Virginia City for his winter supplies, leaving hi* wile, children and the young woman it charge of the place. Near the house, in the rear, was situated a dug-out or root house, where he stored his potatoes, etc., to keep them from freezing, and tt; ventilate which he used a joint of stove pi l>e. One morning during his absence his wife looked out of the window ami saw a bear pulling down the pipe ami trying to dig into the root house, in which they had also stored most of their provisions. The womeu were at their wits' end as to what course to pursue. They at first threw tin cans from the windows and managed to disturb bruin for a few moments, but he soon returned, as he had already sniffed the good things of that ground cellar, and he did not promise to be scared off with tin cans. Mrs. Marshall, brave enough to be left alone, did not intend to have all of her provisions taken l>efore her eyes, and proposed to load the rifle if her com panion would fire it at the bear, which being complied with, a good charge was soon placed in the gun, which was laid across the window-sill and discharged at his bearship, but the aim, not being ac curate, did not strike him in a vital part, although his actions showed that he was hit. He retreated to the hillside, aat iq>on his haunches, took a view of the situation, and then disappeared in the bushes, where he remained. The wo men were not satisfied and they went after that boar—a very imprudent thing, to say the least; but nevertheless, they went, for (as they expressed it) they were afraid he might come bark again in the night, and, as they were satisfied he was wounded, they wanted to finish him. Loading the rifle again, they went cautiously up the hillside, until they discovered the bear standing in a small clearing, w hen the women prepared for action by laying the gun across a log and taking deliberate aim, hitting the animal behind the foreslioulder, when he came rolling down the hill. The women did not stop to see whether the bear w as rolling or running—they imag ined the latter—and both ran for dear life, dropping the gun as they went for the house, which they reaohed before easting a glance in the rear. Whan safe in the house they took a view of the situation, and could see bruin dou bled up and giving his last kick. He finally became quiet, and they ventured out and got possession of their gun, which was loaded, and a third charge put into the bear to make sure he was not playing 'possu n. When Marshall came home lie weighed the bear, and it brought dow u the beam to 350 pounds. He tells the story of the action of the brave women with a great deal of pride, and the young woman who did the shooting has become quite a heroine. Tlie Old Home. ••Darling, wake up ami stop snoring, said a Detroit woman to her husband. "Eh? Whazza matter now?" he asked as he half raised up. n bed. "YVont't you p ease stop snoring? If you only knew how homesick it made me I'm sure you would." "Homesick! How the deuce can my in nocent snore make you homesick." "Why, you know, daniug, that the home on the coast from which you took me a joyous bride, was only half a mile from a government fog-horn, and every time you snore it reminds me so of home that I just cau't stand it. Please lay on your side and have some little respect for my feelings," And theu the brute spread himself out on his back and in five minutes had bar bathed in tears as visions of the old home crept upon her. , Hope Deferred. " When we are married, Lucy," said the poor man's son to the rich man's daughter, "our honeymoon shall be passed abroad. We will drive in the Bois, promenade the Prada, gaze down into the blue waters of the Adriatic from the Kialto, and enjey the Neapolitan sunsets while strolling along the Chiaja." •' How delicious!" she murmured. "But, John, dear! have you money enough to do all this ? For pa says I mustu't expect anything until he dies!" John's countenance underwent such a change that she couldn't help asking him if he felt sick. "No, darling!" he answered, faintly; "I am not sick! I was only thinking that perhaps we had better postpone the marriage until after he funeral!" A Great Lake. The proposal to make a great lake in the extreme North of this continent by closing the northerly outlet of the valley of the Mackenzie river at the line of 68 degrees, and thus storing up the water of 1.200,000 square miles, is an admirable one for some reasons, while tor others it can hardly be looked upon favorably. Points in favor of the scheme are that by carrying it out a lake 2,000 miles long by 200 wide would be established, which, would lie "a never failing feeder for the Mississippi, and would connect the Hudson Bay with the great lakes, and also with the interior of Alaska through the Yukon and atb tents. The connection of the Upper Mississippi with Lake Mackenzie would be a compa lative easy matter, and u vast amount of navigable waterway would be added to the river. The formation of Lake Mackenzie would also contribute to the proposed ship canal fioiu Cairo, 111., to the Gulf of Bt. Lawrence by the most straight line which cuts the Wabash Valley, the Lake Erie and Ontario and the Lower St. Lawrence. The outlook is beautiful from these points of view, undoubtedly, but not from others; for if the lake which it is thus proposed to make should become a real tning, the end of tbe world might at once becjtne a con cern of what Mr. Conkhng likes to call tne "near futun." Sareral years ago a French physicist named Aduetnar proposed the theory that through the gradual ac cumulation of ice at the North Pole, the earth's center of gravity would eventually become so widely seperated from its