VOL. LYI.. HARTER, AUCTIONEER, V REBKRSBURG, PA. J C. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber. Next Door to JOURNAL Store, MILLHEIH, PA. HOUSE, ALLEGHENY STREET, BKLLEFONTE, ... PA. C G. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. •QFFree Boss to and from all Train*. Special rates to witnesses and Jurors. 4-1 IRVIN HOUSE. (Most Central Hotel In the City J Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock Haves, Pa. 8. WOODS CALWELL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commerol&l Travelers on first floor. D. H. MINGLE, Physician and Snrgeon, . MAIN Street, MILLHEIM, Pa. JOHN F. HARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Office in 2d story of Tonriinsoa's Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, MILT.HKIM, Pa. BF KIHTER, a FASHIONABLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER Bhop 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. & R. PIAL*. H. A. McKn. PEALE & McKEE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Office opposite Court House, Beliefonte, Pa. a T. Alexander C. M. Bower. A BOWER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office in Garman's new building. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. northwest corner of Diamond. jy ML. HASTINGS, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. 2 doors west of office formerly occupied by the late Arm of Yocum A Hastings. * C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the conrts of Centre County. Special attention to Collections. Consultations in German or English. F. REEDER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. All business promptly attended to. Collection of baling a speciality. J. A. Beaver. J. w. Gephart. JGEAVER A 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 Coat* House. 8. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA Consultations In English or German. Offloe in lyon'a Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN O. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW* 9 BELLEFONTE, PA 9 Office in the rooms formerly oooof lad hy the taeewTp. WUeea. Che pilllelw SourmtL 1 meet with people here anil there Who walk through life with mumed tread; And when you eay, "The day is fair," They softly sigh and shake their head. The bright and gracious summer sky, lu wide blue arch is o'er them bow'd, And yet they shake their head and sigh. And point you out a tiny cloud. Why do they shake their head and sigh And view that speck of all the sky ? I wonder why t And when young lovers bill aad coo, And play at being tuau and wife, And talk of all the things they'll do In yonder lovely sweep of life, It seems to them so sad a fact Young folks should draw such giddy breath. They beg acceptance of a tract on Early falls and Suddeu Death. When happy hearts are beating high. Why do they tell them they must diet -1 wonder wlij r And when the children shout ut play, Or peals of laughter break their chat, Why do they grimly smile ana say, " Ah, yes l you'll soou t>e cured of that." Wise heads will come another day. And boys are boys, and still will be; 8o laugh, young people, while you may - Kre long you'll know the world like me. Why la It wise to smile aud sigh, And hold your cambric to your eye ? 1 wouder why T TWENTY POUNDS STERLING. There never was such a man to bet as Staining. He was always so sure ho was right. Our mutual triend Maxwell ought to have set sail for Brazil, but I tel. con fident I had seen him in the street, but Staining said it was nonsense, and he bet £2O to Is I was wrong. He had hardly finished speaking wheu Maxwell came in. Staining pulled out of his pocket a £2O note and handed it tome. "There you are, old fellow. 'A fool and his money,' etc. Another illustra tion of that wise adage." "Not exactly; for you don't expect I shall take your money?" "Yes, I do: and shall be extremely annoyed if you refuse." I protested, but presently he said in considerable irritation: "Then be my almoner, and give the money away in charity." He left presently, and, as there are objections to standing in the public highways with a bank note in your hand and a puzzled expression on your face, the note was transferred to my pocaet, and I went on my way wonder ing, when I was met lull tilt by a clergyman whom I knew. "Hello!" he cried. "Mr. Smith, you and I seem to have our minds so much occupied that we cannot take care of our bodies." "No grave matter of mine," I said;" but you look sad. Nothing wrong with you and yours?" "No thank you; but I have just quit ted a depressing scone. A young couple, married ia haste, have come to grief. The wife and child are Hi, Relatives and friends haye receded into the re mote background. And, worse than all, the husband—" "Has become intemperate or has gone mad." "Neither one nor the other." "Something worse?" "Yes; for to be dishonest is worse than going mad. And it is such a mere trifle that is needed apparently, to put all straight, that I groan at my inability to find it." "What's wanted?" "Well, it's only £20." "There's the money yon require. Haste away, and do all the good you can wiih it." My friend looked astonished. He even hesitated a moment. "It is very good of you," he said, nervously, "but really " "I nave the power to give this away. Good by," And I hurried off. Then I hastened back to him. • May I request that you will on no account mention my name?" "As you wish it, I won't; but you should know the objects of your bounty." And he told me. Then we parted. I had only gone a dozen yards when there passed me a young man with a flushed face and a frightened, anxious look in his eyes. He caught up to my friend and spoke to him. "That is the man." I said to myself, "whoso proceedings here have been dubious, and who will, I trust, be rescu ed by Staining's £2O. Well, if the wheel should turn, and this poor man should ever be in a position to deliver a fellow creature from such trouble as he himself is now in, by the surrender of £20,1 wonder whether he'll do it? Smith, you surely know human nature well enough to answer your own foolish ques tion. Not he—not a bit of it." This incident was soon swept from my mind by a sudden call to go abroad, even to the place where Maxwell did not go—Brazil. Nothing hampered me then; I was a young bachelor, and could start for the antipodes at two days' notice. When I take my wife and chil dren —I forget the number—for our au tumnal trip, in these later years of my life, I require weeks' preparation. Away, then, to Brazil; away to new life, new companions, new hopes and fears; away to fortune and the yellow fever! Here occurs in my tale an in terval of twenty years (my story deals in twenties). I doubt whether I should have come back had not a youug Eng lish lady one night sung in my hearing an old home ballad, so well remembered in connection with some loved ones who in t-hi* world will sing no more, that a I WONDER WHY. MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 20,1882. craving for my natiye laud mastered mo at ouco. aud in a very short time I was on my return home. Ou the way I had ouo uight a fright ful dream. I fancied a terrible enoaiy had me down and clutched my throat. Tighter grew his grasp aud fainter my breath. My staring eyes scanned every feature of my murderer. Slowly aud painfully did 1 call to mind the face above me. I passed an entreaty for mercy. "Give it to me; I want it; I must have it instantly!" was the hoarse reply. "What—what can he mean?'' "What!" lie shrieked, in maniacal frenzy. "My £20." I had quite forgotten about the bet and £2O; but the dream serine thinking of what rumors I had heard respecting Staining since I left England—that his money had wasted, he had fallen in position and even into poverty. "Poor fellow!" I thought, "there may be something in that dream. If his pride will accept it he shall have that money back, and very glad I shall be to restore it." Back in England, I settled down in the old country. Main matters disposed of, I began to think of minor ones, aud among the latter the discovery of Stain ing. He was not in his former haunts, and I failed so long to find him that I was beginning to despair, when one night I met him in the street. The brilliant light of the ball-room may increase the lustre of a woman's eyes, but if you want to see a broken down man in his worst aspect, survey him standing disconsolately under a street lamp, a drizzling rain descending upon him, and ho with folded arms pre senting a picture of mute despair. So did I behold Staining. I put my hand upon his shoulder. He sprang from me as though I were a wild beast. "I aid not want to run away,''he said, hoarsely; "they knew that. Go on; I'll walk quietly enough. Why —what—can be—" "Yes, it is Smith, your old compan ion. Come out of this and con tide in me. If you are in trouble and money can help you, you shall not want." And I took his arm and we went together. And then I heard poor Stainiug's con fession, and it amounted to this: When he had wasted his money, he obtained a situation in a merchant's office. The pay was sufficient to keep him; but even now nothing could restrain him from betting on horse-racing. As a conse quence he was soon penniless, and worse—dishonest. Ho had paid a bet ting debt out of a £2O note which had been entrusted to him. Discovery had ensued, and though the luckless man had explained that it was only through a failure of another member of the vir tuous fraternity he could not replace the money at once, he had been dis charged and had reason to suppose he would be prosecuted. "Many, many thanks," replied the poor fellow io my offer. "You can see the firm in the morning; but I doubt whether they will take the money. I believe they are bent on my ruin." Early next morning I was at the office of Blendon, Baydon & Co., and having stated my errand, I proffered mv £2O. Mr, Baydon was a sleek old gentle man. There was an air of wealth and ease all over him. He bowed compla cently and said: "I can appreciate your kindness to this poor man, and I myself would pass the matter over at once, but my partner takes a different view, and I cannot in terfere. " 'Can I see Mr. Blendon?" '•Yes, if you will cull again in two hotirs.' In the cab I kept muttering to myself, Blendon, and Robert Blen don, too. lam sure of it. Sti 1, if it be so, it is very strange, I think I should know that face again. We shall see who will be master." Bftck to Messrs. Blendon, Bay don & Co.'a office, and then in the presence of Mr. Blendon. All my anxiety for my poor friend faded away. I was master of the situation. I stated my desire to pay the amount of Staining's defalca tion, and my hope that under the ex tenuating circumstances no publicity would be given to the wrong doing. Mr. Blendon heard me with some lm. patienoe, and before replying drew a check to myself or bearer" for £IOO. Having given it to the clerk, he said to me: '•You will excuse my answering some what shortly. It cannot be. Jt is not the money we care about, but we must vindicate the law." I declare' I was pleased at the grand iose style of his speech. How beauti fully he was working into my netl I suggested that in a case like this tlieie was no imperative sail to such a course, and that forbearance might be shown. ••I do not see it," answered Mr. Blen don. "You do not appear sir to observe the immense importance of punishing a delinquency of this kind. I cannot take your money. If I were to let this man off I would be ashamed of myself. I have just overcome some foolish hesita tion of my partner. lam always firm myself." (Not always, Mr. Blendon — not when I last saw you. But wait a bit. A little further into my net, please.) And, therefore, however sorry I may be. sir, I must say no.. If I were myself to commit an act of this kind, and"— Why did he stop! I bowed quietly, and urisiug said: "You are quite right, Mr. Bleudon, for dishonesty is a terrible thing, and while not for a momont pressing my re quest, I know you will forgive my call ing to remembrance a curious case known to myself. Some twenty years ago a poor young couple, not long mar ried, had fallen into poverty. The wife and infant were ill; the husband was distracted; he must get money. When his young wife and infant child were almost starving what was to be done? The money was obtained—Mr. Bleu don, you know how. But in what way was it repaid oefore mischief came, and how was the husband saved from ruin and degradation—Baved to become a rich and respected merchant? Whose money saved him? That you do not know, but I will tell you. The £2O note which rescued the husband rested only ten minutes before in the pocket of this very {Staining whom you are about to prosecute. Then fctaiuing was as rich as you are now; but he was a kind, Christian man. Mr. Blendon, I have a right to ask you to what character do you lay chum?" 1 have often thought, since, what ad mirable advantages are a clear head and a calm temper. I had worked myself up to a white heat. It was only when ho first saw my drift that my listener manifested any strong emotion. Then he rose from his chair with flushed face; but he resumed his seat, and by the time I had finished he was almost as calm as when I entered. There was a sbght pause, and then he said: "You have acquired some knowledge of an incident in my life which I am not called upon to discuss. Is this knowl edge confined to yourself?" "1 believe it to be confined to myself and my informant, and I haye no desire it should be otherwise." Mr. Blendon bowed. "I will not conceal that I shall be glad if this goes no further, and on that footing I will say that your lriend shall be freely absolved, and I will oven aid him if I can. You must excuse my taking your £2O. lam obliged to you for coming. Good morning." 1 felt as I left him that the enemy had well covered his retreat, and had uot left me a morsel of triumph more than he could help. But my object was accom plished, and I hastened to meet Stain ing. He was at the apjx>inted place, so I went to his lodgings. The landlady told me he had come in early and gone to his room—not well, she thought. She and I went up together and knock ed more tlian once. Then 1 went in. Poor Staining lay upon the bed—dead. His enfeebled frame had not been able to endtue the recent wear and tear, and he was now beyond the reach of his follies and troubles. An English .Wedding. In the early part of March at the par ish church, St. Mary Abbots, Kensing ton, England, was celebrated the mar riage of Mr. Frederick Mackarness, eon of the Lord Bishop of Oxford, with Miss Amy Chermside, daughter of the late Rev. Seymour Cheimside, rector of Wil ton, Wilts. The wedding party assem bled at the church by half-past llo'clock, when the bride arrived,and was received at the church door by six bridesmaids. The bridegroom was attended by Mr. Christopher Harrison his best man. The bride's dress was of cream-colored satin Duchess, trimmed with Spanish blonde. The long square train was draped to the waist, and the back of the basque bodice looped up and trimmed with the blonde. The front of the skirt was en tablier, with box-pleats from the waist to within twelve inches of the ground; here about six inches were filled with bouiilonne*, finished with a pleated flounce. The high bodice was trimmed square with the blonde, and a garland of bridal flowers placed on the left side, and had elbow sleeves. She wore a wreath of orange blossoms and myrtle cohered by a veil of spotted Brussels lace, bordered all round with Spanish blonde, and fasten ed to her hair by peail pins and carried a bouquet, of white flowers. Her orna ments included a gold pendant set with pearls and diamonds. The bridesmaids were attired alike in fine pearl gray cash mere, trimmed with amethyst Lyons velvet and chenille fringe. The Bkirt* were arranged en tablier with rows of chenille fringe,alternated with bouillon lies of cashmere and revers of amethyst velvet. The bodicss, pointed and gathered in front, were finished with ruffles lined with velvet, and straps of the velvet across the bust and on the sleeves, which were gathered and finish ed with gauntlets lined with velvet. They wore gray chip hats a la mousque taire, the brims lined with amethyst velvet, and two gray ostrich feathers tipped with amethyst, gray gloves and hose, and amethyst velvet shoes. Each carried a basket of gilt work, lined with amethyst satin merveilleux,and trimmed with the new cream ihauresque lace and ribbons, a novelty suggested by Mrs. Alfred Morrison, the bride's sister. They were filled with natural flowers. The ceremony was performed by the father of the bridegroom, and the bride was given away by her uncle, Mr. H. Walter, of Papplewick Hall. The ser vice was choral, and after it the wedding party proceeded to Mrs. Chermside's residence in Collingham Place, South Kensington, for breakfast. The Tell Vine-Dresser. "I've heard tell of some animal that climbed a tree to feed upon the leaves, and when the lust leaf was eaten, tumbled down and broke its neck. That's Just how it'll be with you, I expect." 3o spoke old Michael Bross to Claude. Finding himself strong enough to woik, Claude fell to it with a will, aud his strength increased with every day's work he did, till IU a few years he was able not only to help his father, hut to show him self the stronger of the two. "You uuilutiful boy," laughed old Bross one day, as he threw down his spade quite tired out, while Claude was still working away as if he would never leave off. "aren't you ashamed to get ahead of of your lather in this way!" "I'll do more than that before I'm through, daddy,"chuckled Claude, shovel ing away like a giant. Aud so he did; for his size kept pace with his strength, aud he soon snot up into a perfect giant. Tall as Michel him self was, his son overtopped him by a full head;aud the village folk saw with amaze ment the puny little weakling, whom they used to pity, standing before them a huge brawny fellow seven feet high, with a lace as brown as a mit, and an arm that could have felled an ox. But instead of using his strength to bully his neighbors and knock down any one who offended him, he was the most friendly, good tempered man alive. U:d a norse fall down, or a cart stick fast in the mud, or a man find his bundle too heavy for him. Claude's great broad shoul ders aud strong arms were always ready to set matters to rights; and a saving went abroad among the couutry people, "Claude Bross is as good as he's bin." Claude started to the city on one occa sion with a cart. He hud a long journey, but got to the end at last, and was almost within sight of the place wheu he passed a church, and saw through the open door a crowd of people at the service. Now one of the things which Claude had learned from his father was never to be ashamed of saying his prayers any where. no matter how he might be laughed at. bo he pulled up his cart, went in, aud knelt down with the rest; but he was so tall that, even when he was kneeling, his head rose far above the crowd. Now it happened the Kiug of France himself, Louis XIV., was in the church at the time, aud when he saw thiegreat black head towering above all the rest, he thought this must be some rude lellow siaudmg up while the others were kneeling on purpose to affrout lucm. bo he got very angry, and told oue of his officers to go and make that man kneel down at once. Away went the officer, aud came back presently witn his eyes very wide open indeed. "Your majesty," said he, "the man ia kneeling; but he's such a giant that he looks just as if he were sianding, all the same." The king was quite astonished, and al most thought tue officer must be making tun of him; but he only said: "Well, bring him to me as sxm as the service is over." "bo, when the people were beginning to come out ol church, our friend Ciaude felt a tap on bis aria, and saw a richly dressid man beside him, who said that the king wished to speak to him. The king praised his deportment, and finding out he had a particular wine called Macon wine, told him to send him a suppiy for his table, bo Claude made not only his own fori une, but that of all of his neigh bors; for lrom that day the "Macon wine" was famous throughout France. And if you ever travel through Macon you will be pretty sure to hear the story of "BigC.aude" and his vineyard, which the peasauts still tell their children, to show what a maa can do for himself by honest hard work. Vrboitr. Young newspaper reporters and writ ers usually have a good deal of overflow —some of tbem so much that they seem to think the main object of writiug is to fill up space. They make a paragraph out of a squib, and a page out of an item. The New Haven Kegifter, thus caricatures one green hand: Young Fitznoodle had just entered journalistic life, and is going to "cut a swath." He believes in putting in a good deal of "color" iu his items, and prides himself on his work. He sharp ened a couple of pencils at both ends, this morning, and began: "We regret to inform onr readers that the estimable Miss Jones, of Jonesboro, daughter of Congressman Jones, and grand-daughter of the well-known foun der of the village of Jonesboro, has met with a fearful acoident. "As she was driving along the boule vard at the speed of the wind, the horse a half-brother of Maud S., and full sis ter of St. Julien, became suddenly st ar tlod oy the uprising of a covey of par tridges, which are unusually numerons in that section this season, and promise a great deal of fun for the sportsmen when the law is off—and as they circled the flightened steed tore down the avenue like mad, until stopped by the gallant hand of Officer 71, of the Ninth Ward. "Her injuries were a contusion of the ankle, which did not amount to a fracture; and the unfortunate girl was carried home to her grief-stricken par ents and sympathizing friends." The city editor, at this point, was an xious for copy, and glancing it over ra pidly, crumpled it in his hand remark ing; "Fitzy, you have piled up the words, havn't you. You've given all your fan cy painted. Good boy! But remember, this department is the domain of fact.' He then scribbled; "The daughter of Congressman Jones was run away with by a spirited horse, on the avenue, yesterday afternoon. In juries nominal'' Strawberries In Winter. Hot-house strawberries have been sold in New York for many years, but the business never attained any import ance, owing to the uncertainty of the crop and the onormous price at which they were valued. This year the hot house strawbereies sold in December and the first few days in Jauuary at seven dol lars a quart, aud it is no unusual thing for eight or nine dollars to be paid. The supply and the demand are extremely limited, however, not more than a few quart* a week being disposed of. Early iu January begins the Florida trade, which sprang up in 1877 and has been gradually increasing. Last year one firm which does most of the wholesale business of this kind brought 40,000 quarts to the city. The berries are grown in the open air all along the St. John's river, and are sent when nearly ripe to Jacksonville, where they are packed iu huge refrigerators on wheels with alternate compartments for ice and strawberries. The strawberries are in transit four days, and the ice in tho re - frigerators has to be renewed three times during the journey. A special messenger travels with each car-load of fruit in order to insure great care in hand ling aud the replenishing of ice, and the fruit is in very fair condition when it ar rives. The first berries which arrived in J auuary were sold wholesale at $3 a quart. The price begins declining as they arrive in greater quantities, until at present it is twenty-cents to SI a quart at wholesale and about 81.'25 at retail. The neighborhood of Jacksonville, Fla., promises to become New York's winter garden. Besides an increasing crop of strawberries every year, large quantities of tomatoes are now received, packed in precisely tne same way. Green peas in pod are alae becoming a staple article of trade, 820 a parrel being asxed for them. Stori of Windham. Windham County occupies the north east corner of Connecticut, and holds the frontier along Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Its bouquet of towns ooniprises Thompsou, Woodstock, Ash ford, Eastford, Pomfret, Putnam,Chap lin, Hampton, Brooklyn, Killingly, Windham, Scotland, Canterbury, Plain- Held, Sterling, Yoluutowa. These form a cluster of polygons and trapeziums that gore each other with sharp hill and rocky ridge, whose rivers wash the face of the lands and fill scores of indus trious channels, Its history dates from 1676, when a few whites tried its wilderness with va rious results. About 1650 an English man had been driven away from Qmu tt ibaug by the threat of '"being buried alive unless he departed." It was not until 1685 thit a more successful ven ture was made by a small band who pushed out from the Roxbury Colony. This colony was accounted to be of the best material that came from Eug - laud. It was a time following the civil war in England, when Royalists and Puri tans together sought to mend their for tunes in a new lamb Miss Larned's History of this County has preserved in good proportion those quaint and home ly incidents—sometimes comic, some times tragic—which best represent the drama of life, he tells how people going to ciiurch lost their ways in the woods; that a gang of counterfeiters is found aliout 1756; that Mehitable Morris is sentenced to pay £lO or be whipped ten stripes upon her naked body, and Paul Davenport, is lined twenty shillings for riding from Providence to Canterbury on the Sabbath day. Again we stumble on a "blue law," and a man is whipped in Ashford for neglecting to go tc Church for a space of three months. Such stern regimen was too much for some of the early settlers, and suicides cast their swmging shadows over the land and the parsons are called out to "pray with the corpse.' Indians, wolves, and rattlesnakes, were as matters of course opposed to the new settlement of Windham, and were banded together against the colonists, making almost equal trouble with Sepa ratists, Baptists and Quakers. The naturalist will be interested to learn that the last bear, confessedly a harmless old fellow, and friendly to the English, was shot about 1780. Rattle snakes were to Bpare,and had headquar ters on Killingly Hill. Joseph Leavens felling a tree is bitten by a rattlesnake. He cuts off the bitten thumb, thou des patches the snake, and is thereafter called by the Indians 'Old One Thumb,' A wolf-bill is allowed to John Bartho lomew,and \yoodstock enacts that every inhabitant capable of voting should bring in twenty-four blackbirds' heads to the town treasury before Michteimas, on penalty of a penny a head for the number lacking. On one page we meet a team of four oxen and four horses, unequally yoked together, and taking to Boston a load of deer skins, beaver and other furs, In setting accounts with the natives, we leavn that Governor Edmund Andross considered "an Indians' deed worth no more than the scratch of a bear's paw." Dating from 1740, the Separate move ment, and the half-way convenant in the churches, sent waves of troublesome dissension through the country. Even Yale College reached its long arm out into Canterbury, and "disciplined" two innocent Freshmen, who had attended in vacation the Separate meeting in that town. In those days the clergy were the go vernors supported by special land tax, and pewter and horses were taken for their revenue. We read that "old Andrew Robinson, when in Windham, town, one day had his horse taken from under him for priest tax." We find the Apostle Elliot and Sam son Occum, the Indian convert, on a yisit to the colony, and there is a record in 1725 of an old Indian, Aquittacus. (Aquittamaug,) whose name the schol astic Puritans dignified with a Roman ending, and who lived to be 114, or, as the Indians estimated, 123 years old. He was on the committee of reception when the first English came to Boston, and recalled the town when it had but one oellar begun,and that near the Com mon. Town meetings were opened with grayer, and on the election of depu ties a sermon was delivered in the meeting house by one of the standing clergy. Canterbury tails of expenses for''kee ping*' Sibbel Blank and "dipping" her sundry times, also for 'salivating' sun dry persons." We find little Chaplin enacting "that seven hours should constitute a day's work." As late as 1818 Pomfret is put down for a marvel in high breeding. A v isitor declares the Pomfret assemblies to be elegant and distingue, and "that the dress and demanor of Miss Ann TTa.ll would have done credit in any court in Europe." Pepy's diary is not more full of in genuous disclosures, marking the man ners and eccentricities of the times. Those being the days of "flip" and "cordial, "a respectable citizen of Wind ham is carried home dead drunk, and his wife "thanks God that he is not a blood relation." We read of widows with six children, hewing the rough ways of fortunefcr themselves and little ones. At one time,within a near radius in Pomfret, thirty three children are sprouting up in three families, while Deacon Fisk of Killiugl/, becomes the father at once of four female infants, whose names are suggested by the epi thets that greeded their ad vent. "Won derful, Admirable, Remarkable, Strange!" Mips Larned's first volume appeared in 1874, the second and last was published not long since, and brings the record down complete to 1881;. A Palefaced Lad. When Bijab came out from the orrido he tound an humble-looking, pale faced lad of tifteen crowded in behind the stove. The old man glared at him for a moment, and then demanded: "Boy, what are you doing here?" "Gittin' warm." "How many timea hare 1 said this was no place for boys?" "I dunno." "Well, I do. I've said so a hundred times. An innocent boy has no moral right around a Station Court." "Who's innocent?" protested the lad. "You are." "I hain't, either? I'm just as wicked as you are, if you are bald-headed!" "Boy, don't you sass mel When 1 say that hanging around a court-room, and seeing and hearing the vice and misery and wickedness of human nature hardens a boy's heart, I know what I'm talking about. "Then why don't it hurt you?" "It does! I'm gittin' so all-fired ugly that I can't Lurdly live with myself. 1 used to be big hearted and charitable, and kind and loving, but now I'm as cantankerous as a wolf." "I guess I can stay and see 'em sent up," growled the boy, as he got a resting place for his back. "Arc you going?" "No!" Bijah laid down his broom, removed his coat aud reached over and lifted the vic tim out of his warm nest as easily as a woman could pick up an old slipper. The boy was carried to the door with nothing but his toes touching the floor, given** fly out on the walk, and, as he hunted around for a rock, the old janitor went back to his work, sighing: "Dear mel but what is to become of the rising generation? When I was a boy of bis age money couldn't have hired me to step inside a Court-room. Why, 1 Lad to be licked to make me climb over the back fence to borrow a drawing of tea of a neighbor! Looks to me as if thiawiioie world was rushing to the bad." Whew Slate Pencils Come From. Anyone who has children and who, about forty times during a term, hears complaints about tbeir pencils, their breaking or loss, will perhaps be glad to know that tho supply is just about inexhaustible. There is not the slightest danger that the world will ever want for slate pencils. The hard black German ones have been superceded of late years by the round white one of clay slate. At the quarry near Castleton, Vi., about thirty-five workmen produce 50,000 pencils daily, and it is proposed to iucrease the daily output to 100,000. The blocks when quarried are sawed into pieces seven oy twelve inches, split to a thickness of a half inch and smoothed by a planer, the block is placed under a semi circular knife and after having been turned over, the process is repeated. The re sult is fifty-seven inch pencil. A particle of quartz in the block, would break all iLe pencils. They are pointed by a grindstoi • turned, assorted and sent to market in boxes of a hundred. NO 16.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers