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.