VOL. LVI. HAUTER, AUCTIONEER, REBERSBURG. PA. J C. SPRINGER. Fashionable Barber, Next Door to JOURNAL Store, MILLHKIH, PA. JgROCKKRHOFF HOUSE, (Opposite Court House.) H. BROCKERHOFP, Proprietor. WEI. MCKKKVKK, Manager. Go>d sample rooms on first floor. Free bus to and from all traius. Special rates to Jurors and witnesses. Strictly First Class. IRVIN HOUSE. (Most Ceutral Hotel In the City,) Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock Ilavea, Fa. S. WOODS CALWELL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commercial Travelers on first floor. D. H. MINGLE, Physician and Surgeon, MAIN Street, MILLHKIH, Pa. JOHN F. HARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Office iu 2d story ot Tomliuson'a Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, MILI.HKIM, Pa. Br KINTER. • 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. S. K. PEALE. H. A. MCKKK. PEALE & >IeK KE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Office opposite Court House, Bellefonte, Pa. C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office in Carman's new building. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. OLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond. JJ H. HASTINGS, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, 2 doors west of oflloe formerly occupied by the late Arm of Yocum A bastings. C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LA W. BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of Centre County. Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations In German or English. F. REEDER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. All bus'ness promptly attended to. Collection of claims a speciality. J.~A7 Beaver. J W. Gephart. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. * * Office on Alleghany Street, North of High. yjy A. MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA Office on Woodrlng's Block, opposite Court House. S. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA Consultations in English or German. Office In Lyon'o Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. O BELLEFONTE, PA 0 Office In the rooms formerly occupied by the late w. P. Wilson lie pilileittt Simtmtl DREAM KD OF HOME. He dreamed of home—aye, while the clew Of life so thlu and straightened drew, A breath might aever it in two! He dreamed of home; amid the press Of those old shadows death doth dreaa lu mist, and oold and heaviness,— He dreamed of home! Sweet In his car The sound of rustling graiu-flehla uear, The orchard oriole's fluted cheer. lie fore his dim and lidded aye The lake's crisp billow flickered high On azure deeper than the sky. Slipped thence from all uproar and striie Once more the looks of child and wite Shone as the lamps of household lite He dreamed of home! The vlsiou flew, Wavered, reshaped itself anew, Sunled, spake, as visions never do; Still wide of home he saw, instead, Its angel Staudiiig by his tied, I ushaken in the hour of dread. THE WEAVER OF RAVELUK. It was fifteen years since Silas Mar uer hafi first come to Raveloe, and at the end of fifteen years Raveloe tucn said just the same things about him as at the begining. He was subject to rata lepsy and to the villagers there was something mysterious in these fits, as a fit was a stroke, and it was not in the nature of a stroke to let a man stand on his legs like a horse in the shafts and then walk off as soon as yon can say •Gee." So had his way of life mysterious peculiarities. He invited no comer to step across his door sill, and he never strolled into the village to drink a pint at the Rainbow, and he sought no man or woman, saye for the pnapose of his calling, or to supply himself with the necessaries of life. He had knowledge of herbs —and charms too, the}* thought—ami perhaps he was possessed of au evil spirit, so it was partly to this vague fear that Mar - uer was indebted for protecting him from persecution, and still more that, as linen weaver, his handicraft made him a high ly welcome settler to the rich house wives of the district. There was only one important addition which ihe years brought; it was that Master Marner had laid by a fine sum of money some where. His life had reduced itself to the mere functions of weaving and board ing. But about Christmas of that fifteen year, a great change came over Marm r's life, and his history became blended in a singular manner with the life of his neighbors. The greatest man in Raveloe was 'Squire Cass. One of his two sous. Dustau, the second, the neighl>ors said it was no matter what became cf him —a spiteful, jeering fellow, whose taste for driving, betting and swapping might turn him out to be a sower of something worse than wild oats. But it would be a pity that Godfrey, the eldest, a fine, well bred, good na tured young man should take the same road as his brother, which he seemed inclined to do of late. Godfrey was in Dustan's power, as he had secretly married a coarse beauty, whose love of drink had made her an unfit companion for any one, and he lived in fear of his father learning the dreadful secret and turning him adrift, so Dustan made constant demands on hiin for hush money. Driven to des peration by his profligate brother, he had given him permission to sell his favorite horse if he would make no more demands upon him. Bo Dustau rode the horse to the races and before he had a chance to sell, killed the horse and went from the grounds in a drunken, penniless state As he was plodding home through the dark he saw a light in Maimer's house. He knocked but no one answered and on stepping in he found it vacant. Where could he be, leaving his sup per cooking and the door unfastened. It was a dark rainy night, and perhaps he had gone out for fuel and fallen into the stone pits. That was an interesting idea to Dus tan. If the weaver was dead, who had a right to his money? Who would know where his mouey was hidden? Who would know that anybody had come to take the money away? He saw a place near the loom where the sand had finger marks. He darted to it, lifted the bricks, and found two leathern bags. He immediately left the house with the bags. The rain and darkness had got thicker, but he was heartily glad of it. Si'as-came sooner after, and after get ting warm he thought he would put his beloved guineas on the table before him, as it would be pleasant to see them as he ate his unwonted feast. For joy is the best of wine, and Silas' guineas were a golden wine of that sorb. The sight of the empty hole made his heart leap, but the belief that his gold was gone could not come at once. He had put his gold somewhere else and then forgotten it. He turned his bed over and looked in the brick oven. He felt once more all around the hole. He could see every object in his cottage - and his gold was not there. He put his hands to his head and gave a wild, ringing scream, the cry of desolation. The cry had relieved him from the first maddening pressuje. He tottered toward his loom, and got into the seat where he worked, instinc MILLHEIM. PA.. THURSDAY, JANUARY 19,1882. tivelv seekiug this as the strongest assurance of reality. The idea of a thief began to present itself. He started from the loom to the door. He rushed out in the ruin and wade his way to the inn. Theee Silas told his story, under frequent question ing as the character of the robbery be eame evident. The slight suspicion of Ids hearers molted away before the simplicity of his distress. Dustan Cass had never been heard from, and on New Year's eve Squire Cass gave a large party. That night Godfrey's wife was walking with slow, uncertain steps through the snow covered lanes of Kaveloo, carrying her child in her arms. Soon she felt numb with cold and fa tigue and then nothing but a supreme immediate longing to lie down ami sleep. The complete torpor came at last; then lingers lost their tension, the arms nnbont; then the little head fell away from the bosom, and the blue eyes opened wide on the Cold starlight. Suddenly its eyes were caught by a bright gleaming light on the white ground: in au instant the child had slipped on all fours and held out one little hand to catch the gleam. But the gleam conld not be caught, and the head was held up to see where the cun ning gleam came from. It came from a very blight place; and the little one rising on its legs went on to the open door of Silas Maimer's cottage, and right up to the warm hearth where Silas' coat lay on the bricks to dry. The little one squatted down ou the coat, presently the warmth had a lulling effect, and the little golden head sank down on the old coat asleep. But where was Silas Maimer? He was in the cot tage. but he difl not see the child. He had gone to the door to look out, and put his right hand on the latch of the door to close it—but he did not close it, he was arr sted by the invisible baud of catalepsy, and stood with wide but sightless eves holding upon his door, powerless to resist the good or evil that might enter. When Mamor's sensibility returned, be elosed the door, and turned towards the hearth, wlere, to bis lurid vision, it teemed as if there were gold on the floor in front of the hearth. Gold?—his own gold—brought back as mysteriously as it had boon taken away. He leaned forward at last and stretch ed forth his hand, but instead of the hard coin, his lingers encountered soft, warm curls. Could this be his little sis ter come back to him in a dream? He had a dreamy feeling that this child was somehow a message come to hnn from far off life. But there was a cry on the hearth, and Silas fed and soothed it. He found it had 011 wet shoes, which suggested to him that she must have come from out doors; so he raised the child, and went to the door and the little one cried out mammy. Bending forward he could just discern marks made by the little feet, and he followed their track to the furze bush, and there he found a human body, with the head sunk low in the furze, and half covered with the shaken snow. Silas knew that all the town was at the grand party at the squire's, so he carried the little one there in search of the doctor. The doctor, Godfrey, and a few others, go to the stoue pits, and there find that the woman is past help—dead. They urg ed Silas to part with the child, but ho presses it to him, and says: "No, 110! I can't part with it, It's come to me —I've a right to keep it." It was a bright autumn Sunday, six teen years ufter Silas Marner had found his treasure 011 the hearth. The l>ells of the old Raveloe church were riuging the clieeriul peal which told the morning service was ended. He called her Eppie for his sister, and that morning, as they walked home to gether, in low, murmuring tones Eppie talked to him. "Father, if I was to be married, ought I to be married with mother's ring?" "Why, Eppie, have you been thinking on it?" "Only this last week, father," said Eppie, ingeniously, "since Aaron talked to me about it." "And what did he say?" said Silas. "He said he should like to be married, because he was going on four-and-twen ty, and had got a good deal of gaaden ing work, now Mr, Mott's given up." "And who is it as he's wanting to morry?" said Silas with rather a sad smile. "Why, me, to be sure, daddy," said Eppie, with dimpling laughter, kissing her father's cheek; "as if he'd wanted to marry anybody else." "You mean to have him, do you?" said Silas. "Yes, some time," said Eppie, "I don't know when." "Everybody's married some time," Aaron says. "But I told him that wasn't true, for I said; Look at father—he's never been married." "My child," said Silas, "your father was a lone man till you was sent him." "But you will never be a lone man again, father," said Eppie, tenderly: "that is what Aaron said." away from Master Marner, Eppie." "And," I said, "it 'ud be of no use if you did, Aaron, and he wants lis all to live together, as yon needn't work, and he'd be as good as a son to you. But I don't want any change. Only Aaron does want a change, and lie made me cry a bit - because he said 1 didn't cure for him, for if 1 cared for him I should want us to married, as he did." "Oh, my blessed child," said Silas. "You are o'er young to be married. But 1 shall get older and helpless, and 1 should like to have you marry some- Ixnly else besides me somebody young and strong, as 'ud take care o' you to the end." "Then you would like me to be mar ried, father?" "1 1) not be the man to say no, Eppie. but will ask your god-mother. She'd wish the right thing by you and her son too." And the god-mother wished it. In drainiug the lands the stone pits were drained dry and the skeleton of Dustan Cass was found and all of Silas Maimer's gold, £265. So Aaron slid Eppie enlarged their garden, and made happy their home, as they did not wish to leave the stone pita, and Eppie's own words tell the story of their united hap py life. "Oh, father, what a happy home ours is! I think nobody could be happier than we. ArwlitHU 11 it mm. It is a question what sort of a horse Noah took with him iuto the ark, and where the horse went to after the disembark ation. Tradition states that the first horse trainer was Ishmael, after J he was turned out of his lather's teuU lie is said to have captured a wild horse, and from her is de scended a special strain of blood, known as Benal el Ahwaj, the oldest known breed, and all the Arabian breeds are but ramifi cations of the original stock, particularly the flue choice breeds known as thorough breds, or pure-blooded, by the Bedouins of the desert. It is probable that the home of the Arabian horse was in Northern Ara bia, on the borders of the where there is more water on the surface of the ground than in Southern Arabia. The pure Arabiau horse is from fourteen to fifteen hands high lie has a large head, a large eye, an arched neck, and is of a mild disposition, aud of unusual intelli gence. Compared with other horses he is perfectly tractable. For his size, his speed is great, and his jumping or leapimr powers are remarkable, lie is a good walker and a good runner. The liedouins do not teach th*ir home* to trot, neither do they train race horses. They themsel ves are bold riders for short distances, throwing spears, knive-Javeluis, and exer cising themselves in strange feats of horse manship, impossible for any but them selves. Travelers will remember the equestrian feats of the Jordan Valley guides who are usually Bedouin Sheiks, and who take great care ol their horses. Train ing commcnc s when the colt is young. Tue Medians know nothing about breaking a horse, and their belief is thai unless a horse has done good service before he is three years old he will never be worth anything. There are nve recognized strains of Arabian horses, all equally or nearly equally pure and valuable. Written pedi grees are not knowj, but by tradition the jwdigree is preserved tor generations, descent being reckoned through the duin only. The pure Arab hcrse commands a high price, the mare a still higher price. Aud if sold the first loal is considered the property of the seller. A friend of the writer, an Arab, owns the one fifth part of apureuiare, for which he paid 60 Napo leons. It is a lieautiful animal in mixed blood the size and the sha|>e of the head follows the least beautiful type of the an cestors, as in the bpauish horses of the present day. The English thorough bred (so called) is not a pure Arab horse. The ear ot the Arabian horse is small and beautifully shaped; the neck is light; the shoulder good and the forearm very strong. The hind quarters are narrow indicating speed rather than strength. The legs are stroug, less bone and nioie back sinew thrn in American horses. The pastern joints are long and fine—too long for strength— aud the long pastern causes the horse to trip even on level ground. I had last year the oiler ot a beautiful Arab horse and at a reasonable price. He was the fastest walker I have ever seen ki Palestine, but he tripped and moved badly on the down hill grade. I did not purchase him, being afraid that he might stumble. The best gait of the Arab horse is galloping or run uing, but 1 doubt not that by training gtxnl shoulder action could be obtained. The Arab borse has good wind, great powers of of endurance and he will bear any amount of training He is fearless, aud hence safe. In this respect he is very different from the northern horses of the Turks. The colors are various: gray, white, brown, black and bay. The bay is said to be the best; the black is rare; the best horses 1 have seen in Arabia are gray. For the pedigree or familyjof a horse the Bedouin looks at the head, whers it is said signs of parentage are seen. A very irood horse, and favorite one in Palestine, is a cross tietween the Arabian and the Russian, which is sixteen or seventeen hands high, a large powerful horse and something very beautiful. For such a horse the French Consul paid 400 Napoleons, The supposed deterioration of the Arab horse ot late years may be from the system of close breeding, to a degree which would not be tolerated elsewhere, aud the result is weakuess. All blooded horses of the Ara bians are very closely related by blood. Such is the prejudice of blood that an in ferior specimen of a favorite strain is pre ferred to a liue specimen of a lower strain. Another cause may be scarcity of food and lack of care—if, indeed, auy such deter ioration does exist. A FARMER, on being asked to write a testimonial for a patent clothes-wringer, produced the following . 4 'l bought your clothes-wringer and am hugely pleased with it. 1 bought a jag of wood, which proved too green and uufit to burn, I ran the whole load through your wringer, and have used the wood for kindling ever since, ,T K*rimd Might. Miiny intelligent people in Hoot land and elsewhere believe in what is called the second sight, or, a power of seeing what is going ou many miles away. '1 he power is lesa couimoo than it used to be years ago, but to many facts are told by per sons whose veracity cannot he questioned, that it is easier to believe them without explaining the mystery, than to deny them. Similar facts in our own midst are not wanting confirming the possibility of this second sight. It is a historical fact that He v. Jos. liuckinilister, who died in Vermont in 1812, just before his death, announced that his distinguished s in, lb v. J. S. Huckuiiusler, of Boston, was dead. It afterward turned out that the son had breathed his last about the time his father made the amiouueement. A parallel to that of the Buckminsters occurred hut a short time since at Eaton, Ohio. On a Wednesday morning in April, 73, at four o'clock, Gen. John of that place, breathed his last. But a few minutes of that Joseph Deem, who also died on the same day, aroused from his sleep, and said to his son John, who sat at his side, 44 John, Gen ljuinn is dead." To this John said : * 4 l reckon you are mistaken, father; you have been dream iug. 1 guess Gen. Quinn is not dead, he is not even sick, but goes down town regu larly every day tor his mail." 44 Yes,"said lather Deem, "I know he is deadand he had scarcely finished speaking when a neighbor walked in and said to them, "Gdh. Quiun is dead !" What is strange about it, is that Father Deem did not know of Gen. ill ness, ami, in all probability, bail not heard Ins name mentioned. The late Dr. Francis Way land was accustomed to tell of an incident of this kind, which occurred to his mother, a woman of sound judgement and of ad mirably balanced character. Young Francis was expected home from New York, where he bud !>een attending medical lectures. Suddenly, one day, the mother la-gan to walk the tioor hurriedly, saying to her hushaud, 4 * Fray for my sou. Fran cis is in danger. 1" She was so agitated and urgent that the father put up a prayer for deliverance from peril. When Francis at length arriveu home, the mother asked at once, • 4 What has taken place f" lie told of an adventure. While coming up the North Kiver on a sl<x>p he had fallen overlioard, and the sloop had passed over him. Be ing an athletic swimmer, he hail kept atioat until rescued. lleinrich Zschokke, one of the eminent literary men of Germauy, possessed at times the curious power of seeing the whole lite of a stranger into whose com pany he happened to be thrown. The incidents of the life seemed to pass be fore birn in kind of vision, with a dis tmctnesss even in minute details. He couJd not tell in what the power lay, nor how it came to him ; nor was it perman ent, or even gener&L It came mysteri ously and left as strangely. But he often tested its accuracy by recounting to the strauger the whole story of the life as it appeared to him, and never failed to re ceive an acknowledgement of its truth, even in miuute particulars. Once, when travelling with two of his sous, he met with another man, an orange peddler, who hail a similar gift, and who, to the great delight of the boys, told the incidents of Zschokke's life from boyhood. A distinguished scientist has advanced the theory in our hearing, to which he himself holds, that there is an uuknown menial power in the human system that is independent of our recognized faculties, and superior to them. Certain persons on going to sleep tlx upon an hour of the night to awake, and always awake at the tixed time. This indicates a knowledge of time possessed by this unexplained mental power which is beyond the reach of the ordinary faculties. Many of the French soldiers, returning from the German frontier during the late war, were found sleeping dunng a weari some march, but they kept in rank and obeyed orders. People have composed poems, reasoned with wonderful clearness on abstruse subjects, aud even played the piano with unusual brillaucy aud expres sion, during sleep. l)r. Browu-SSequard once related an In cident of his own experience somewhat similar to those recorded of Zschokke. He was once lecturiug to some French students, talking very rapidly, his whole mind wrapped up in the subject. He suddenly stopped short in bis discourse, and stood before the audieuce, lost, as it were, in profound thought. While his mind had seemingly been concentrated on the subject of his lecture with unusual intensity, there had been forced into it the solution of a problem of science that bad bathed bis elforts for a long perod, aud which was quite foreign to the sub ject of which he was treating. TLs stud ents became alarmed, thinking from bis s*range silence, that he must have been taken ill, and ho thought it .prudent to make an explanation of the cause of his conduct on the spot. ArHenlc ami Vanadium lu Cauntir Soda. Since caustic soda is no longer exclu sively made from crude soda and lime, but is also produced directly from rod liquor, the product is often contaminated with un due proportions ot chlorides, sulphates, cartiouates, even nitrites, and sometimes cyanogen compounds. The author has now also met with arsenic and vanadium in caustic soda. The latter impurity may be disregarded, being rare and very minute ; but the former is more serious. A sample ot this caustic soda, dissolved in dilute sulphuric acid, and the solution tested directly in Marsh's apparatus, yielded a strong arsenic mirror. by means of precipitation with h) dro-sulphuric acid, etc., yielded O.ld per cent of arsenic acid. The same sample contained also 0.014 per cent of vanadic acid. The latter may be recognized by passing through a solution of the caustic soda a current of hydro-sulphuric acid, when the liquid will dually assume an intense reddish violet. This is filtered and acidulated with dilute sulphuric acid, when a precipitate will be obtained, which! after beinj washed, will produce with borax a yellow bead in the outer blow pipe flame, and a green bead in the inner. On heating the precipitate in the air, a reddish yellow mass is obtained, which is soluble in ammonia with a yellow color. The latter solution, slightly acidulated with hydro i chloric acid, yields a bluish-black preci pitate witli infusion of nutgalls. Scenes Behind the Bars, At 5 o'clock the convicts in the Auburn New York btale Prison quit their work and form in line in their shops. Tbey are marched to the 4, bucket ground," and al ter sluicing their buckets on their arms they shuttle In long lines in single file to their cells. As each one passes to his little iron barred apartment he is handed his dish of inusli and molasses. He finds a cup of erust coffee on a small bracket just outaide liis dor. This be lakes inside with bun. After this the doors are closed by the convicts themselves, aud the keeper of each gang walks along his gallery and locks his men in. After 9 o'clock every man is supposed to be wrapped in slumtier. At an i rate, be must be as quiet as though he were sound asleep. No noises or talking arj i>crtijiUed; anyone who breaks this rule Is "chalked iu. ' "Chalked in,'' means thai the cell d<wr will be chalked aud the inmate* locked iu in the morning for punishment. The north "wing," which is the largest of the two wiugs, offers the best opportunity for mghl scenes. The guards are compelled to make their rounds every halt hour. The corridors are kept origlitly lighted to prevent attempts at es ♦•ajie. The guaids wear shoes male of clutli, which render their footsteps noise less. The convicts call these shoes "sueaks," as the guards wearing them are enabled to creep along the galleries silent ly, and often surprise convicts in trans gression of the rules. There are five long galleries In the north wing, and nearly a thousand convicts, wheu the prison is full, locked in the cells. A uighl may pass without a single sound lieiug heard. The men may read until the lime arrives for them to put out their lights and turn in, but it Is seldom that the day breaks without the quiet having been disturbed. The stillness is oppresive and a shrill whistle from some mischief-I>ent prisoner falls with a startling effect upon the ear. It is the delight ot some of the men to make trouble, aud in the middle of the night oue of them may burst out with a loud cry, a sharp peal of laughter, or something of that nature. Detection is almost impossible, owiug to the large uuuilier of cells aud the uearuets of the convicts to each other. One convict, a boy of eighteen, tantalized the guards night after uighl for a long lime by ever and anou piping a roundelay in a piercing whistle. it was difficult to locale the fellow, but finally he was caught iu the act aud for his pleasure he suffered an application of the paddle, which had a salutary effect, as he never afterward en gaged in such business. It requires but little to set a whole gallery in an uproar. Convicts are easily influenced, and any in centive at night will unloose their tongues. As by some nook or crook tbey obtain the daily papers, they keep well pjsted. They know of every political or other kind ofde monstr&liou, and are prepared for it. Any unueal disturbance in the vicinity of the prison is sure to create a hubbub inside the walls. One night a cannon was fired near the prison. This, with the exultant cries of the crowd who were discharging it, awoke all the prisoners in the north wing. Some of the convicts began to shout. Others took up the refrain, and in less time than it takes to teil the whole wing was in con fusion. For an hour or more the men yelled like mad, and no effort of the guard could stop ttiem. Finally the noise sub sided aud peace reigned once more. Al though it was late at night, a large assemb lage collected outside of the prison, at tracted by the yelling. It was supposed that an insurrection had broken out. There was one man who would insist every night for a time, about 12 o'clock, in indulging in a demoniacal laughter that re verberated thrcugh the corridors. This was iuvariably takeu up by the other con victs, and the great wing fairly rang with the laughter from ten hundred lips. The effect would almost drive one wild. Wheu all join in the disturbance the convicts do not care if the guards are watching them, and they kuow the whole wing would not be chalked in, and oue could not be left in without leaving all the others. Oue convict wan ''locked" in a cell in which a hideous-look ing negro died. This man would scream In the dead of the night, "For God's sake, don't kill me! Spare me, spare me !" He imagined that the dead negro was clutch ing at his throat aud strangling him to death. The man's appeals were pitiful, aud he would be found cowed in the cor ner of his cell, trembling with fear. The officers of the prison were compelled to le move him to another cell. Had lie re maiued in his old cell he would have gone mad. This man's tearful cry would in stantly arouse the ot h ~r convicts and seutt them all into a shriek of alarm. The men acted as if they were all afraid. Ghosts are frequently seen by a supersti tious couvicl who imagines he sees oue aud is certain to shout the information to the remainder of fhe prisoners. "Ghosts, ghosts t" will sound through the long wing. The convicts, if they dislike a guard, may apply epithets to him with perfect impunity. Every man will join iu the attack. The poor guard has no recourse. He cannot find out vho assailed him. Oue Fourth of July night, wheu the guns were booming, the convicts concluded to indulge in a jollification among themselves. Au en ihusiastic convict started the song "March ing through Georgia." Every tongue took it up, aud the refraiu rolled out through the grated windows of the street and drew an immense coucourse. Not un frequently the intention spreads to the south wing, which is much smaller, directly across the court. With the two wings yell ing at the top of their lungs, it would make the hair of those unaccustomed to the sound to stand on the end. It is easy to calculate the noise that could be created by from thirteen hundred to fifteen hun dred meu. At 6 o'clock in the morn ing the men are required to arise, and at 0.15 they must be ready to march to tue bucket ground to dump their buckets and perform their ablutions previous to going to the mess room for breaktast. After their morning meal they proceed to the shops for the labors of the day. —Pearl fishery in England is as old as Csesar's time. —Nearly 3,000,001) acres of land in Ireland consists of bogs. —Do bank directoes direct. —Baron Rothschild left $400,000,000. —Nearly 3,000,000 acres of land in Ireland consists of bog. —The largest animals are fast disap pearing. American Traditions, An English paper observes that the difference in the importance which is attached to the War of Independence in the mind of the American and in that of the Englishman is of course immense, and naturally so. To the former the spot upon which each skirmish was fought is sacred ground, while the dearth of exciting incident in their short na tional and colonial history drives the author and the poet with never-ceasing freshness to those with ns almost for gotten fields for his story and his lay. The names and deeds of each general have been imprinted on the mind of the American from his youth up. To claim descent from those legislators and war riors who were called from comparative obscurity to be the founders of what must soon be the greatest nation upon earth to the present generation is a ! Murce of the most pardonable pride. Names and traditions that we in Eng land have never heard—nay, the names of even British soldiers that bled for ns on the long list of fruitless victories and disastrous defeats, and that we have long forgotton—still live in the fireside lore of every good American's house hold. When the whole facts of the case are loriie in mind, and when it is recol lected what a sorry figure we cut as a nation throughout the whole business, there is nothing very remarkable, per haps, in the oblivion to which British literature has consigned those ill-starred campaigns. But in these days, when every well-informed aud sensible Eng lish-man not only feels no bitterness conuected with that straggle, but sym pathises unreservedly with the motives that led the Colonies to fight; and which the magnitude of the great nation to which that war gave birth is considered and the growing significance that in consequence must attach to the date of its entry into the family of nations, it is a little singular how insignificant a place the events of which we speak and the participators in them occupy in the minds of even cultivated Englishmen. The almost unique perfection of Wash ington's career and character hfts, it is true,lifted him out of the obscurity that veils the names and deeds af his cotem poraries. How many are there of us for instance, to whom the name of Pat rick Henry would have any significance? Aud vet this was the mau, self taught, sprung from the lower classes, once considered too ignorant and uncouth for a coloniel country lawyer, who, by a natural eloquence so extraordinary of of its kind aud so remarkable for its ef fect that an exact parallel for it would be hard to find iu history, completely crushed out the clinging to the mother country that was so strong through the Southern colonies, then the most im portant portion of the continent It is was the sword of Washington that actu ally severed the bonds of union, it may also be said that it was the voice of Henry that caused it to unsheathed. For if the South had not risen, Washington would most certainly have remained at home, for a strong sense of duty only drove him to the field, and he owned no kind of allegiance to anything but his own colony, Virginia. A Steam Passenger Catamaran. The new steam catarmaran which JohD Evcrtseu, of Troy, N. Y., is intending to put on the route between Westerly and Watch Hill as a passenger boat, lately arrived at Providence, so says The Jour nal of that city. She is of very light draught, of only forty-five tons burden, with hull sixty feet long and beam six feet, and a carrying capacity of about 400 per sons. The following are s >me of the novelties of her construction: First, the propeller, which is hung amidships and between the hulls of the vessel, tie. power being applied by a double engine; second, the manner of working the engine, which the pilot doss from the pilot-house, where a starting lever and reversing lever are located, dispensing with customary signals by bells, though the services of aa eugiueer are required for all other pur poses. There are two decks, main and promenade. On the former, which is elliptical iu form, are the cabin, engine and boiler-room, and the steward's pantry, with a broad path all around, and rail of usual licigth. A companion way leads to the upper deck, whick is broad and opeu, with only the pilot-house and captain's room to break the space. llow fast the boat is, is yet to be shown. The owueis ciaim that this is the first boat of its clas3 to which sieiui has been successfully applied, four having been previously built, none of which operated satisfactorily. To Hubud. Always complain of being tired, ana re member that nobody else gets tired. Your wife should always have everything in readiness for you, but you should not do anything for her. When your wife asks for money, give her a nickel, ask her what she intends to do with it, and when she tells you, ask her if she can't do without it Then go down town and spend ten times the amount for cigars, for they are a ne , cessity. Go down town of an evening, stand around on the street corner and talk poli tics; its more interesting than to stay at home with your family. Charge your wife not to gossip but you can spin all the yarns you wish. Have your wife get up and make fires, but don't get up yourself till the re3t of the family are eating breakfast, as yon might take cold. Wear old clothes and make yourself as untidy as possible until your wife's health fiils, then it would be best to fix up some, for in all probability you will want another when she is gone. Have a smile for everybody you meet, but get a frown on before you go home^ NO 3.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers