VOL. LYJ.
HAUTER,
A-UCTIONEER,
REBKRSBURG. PA.
J C. SPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber,
Next Door to JOURNAL Store,
MII.LHKIH, PA.
JgROCKEKHOFF HOUSE,
AXLE GHENT STREET,
B ELLKFONTE, - - - PA.
c. G. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
WFREE BOM to anil from all Trains. Special
rates to witnesses and Jurors. 4-1
IRVIN HOUSE.
(Most Central Hotel In the City,)
Corner MAIN and JAY" Streets,
Lock Haven, Fa.
s. WOODS CALWELL, Proprietor.
Good Sample Rooms for Commercial
Travelers on first floor.
D. H. MINGLE,
Physician aud Surgeon,
MAIN Street, MILLIIKIM, Pa.
JOHN F. HARTER,
PRACTICAL DENTIST,
Office in 2il story of Touriiusoa's Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, MILTHKIM, Pa.
BF KIMTF.K.
A FASHIONABLE BOOT .% SHOE MAKER
Shop next iloor to Fiote's Store, Main St.,
Bot*. Shoes and Ga.ters made to order, and sat-
Isfactorv work jruaranteail. Repairing done prompt
ly and cheaply, aud 111 a neat style.
S. R. PEAI R. H. A. MCKKK.
PEAIE & McKEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Office opposite Court House, Bellefonto, Pfc
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
JFC BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTB, PA.
Office In Carman's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Offlce on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Horthwest corner of Diamond,
11. H ASTHGS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street, 2 doors west of offlos
formerly occupied by the late firm of Yocum M
Hastings.
M. C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre Ctounty.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAVY,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
All bus'ness promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
JGEAYER & GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
Y°CUM & HARSHBERGER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
Consultations In English or German. Office
In Lyon'o Building, Allegheny Street.
JQ H. HASTINGS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
Offlce on Allegheny street, two doors west of
olhce formerly occupied by the Arm of Yocum M
Hastings. __ _
fie pillleii® §®iei®l
DWICKT I>AY.
Stay, sweet Pay, for thou art fair,
Fair, ami full, luul calm;
Crowned, through all lUy tfoldon hour*,
Witn Love's brightest, riuhes' flowers,
Strong tu Faith's unshakeu {Hiwera,
Blessed ID Hope'* pure helm.
Stay, what chance an<t change may watt,
As yon glide away,
Now is ail ao glad and bright;
Now wo breathe in sure delight;
Now we laugh in fate's despite;
Stay with us, sweet Pay.
Ah, she cannot, may not stop;
All things must decay;
Then with heart, and head, and will,
Take the joy that lingers still,
Prlae the pause in wrong aud 111—
i'rize the passing day.
1 Fil l b I FNA 1.1 Y.
I was left IUI orphan at an early ago,
but with immense wealth,
Arriviug at manhood. I enjoyed all
hat un trammeled leisure and money
could procure.
When I was about thirty I determin
ed to marry; and as my property con -
sisted chiefly of land, situated in my
native country, I intended when I
married, to return there and make it my
home.
One summer, after recovering from an
attack of illness, I happened by chance,
in traveling about to restore my health,
to stop at a sea-bathing place, unfre
quented by the fashionable world.
It was so unlike any other watering
place I had ever visited, that I resolved
to remain there until I became tired of
it, tis I had been of everything else.
At this retired place I met Fanny
Fairolough. Her parents had gone
there, like myself, for the benotit of
their health rather than tor amuse
ment.
I soon discovered that Mr. Foir
clough and my father hail been college
chums.
From my first interview with Fanny
Fairelough I felt interested in her, and
an intimate aqnaintanee increased that
interest,
Soon I loved her as I had never loved
woman; 1 read with her her favorite au
thors aud mine; I walked and rode, aud
sung and talked, with her, and at last
told her that I loved her.
She returned my passion, and the
wedding-day was to be within a year.
The year passed away more rapidly
than I had anticipated. Oh, what a
happy year that was! Even now, friend
less and alone, a sorrow-stricken old
man on the verge of the grave, I look
back upon that period as the sunny
time of my existence.
Daily my betrothed grew nearer and
dearer to me, When my wedding day
arrived 1 would have mode it the occa
sion of a grand festival. I wished the
world to witness my proud joy; but my
bride looked on marriage as too solemn,
too serious a thing for mirth.
At length, however, the bridal parties
were over, and in the quietude of our
home our characters began gradually to
unfold themselves to each other's
viow.
I found that I was not mistaken in
my estimate of my wife's love.
My moon of perfect love was at its
full. All was joy; all was brightness;
but the shadow descended on my
hearth.
I brought it there, I fed it, I nursed
it, until the light of joy was extinguish
ed, and the sun of happiness had depart
ed forever.
My temper was uatnrally violent, and
I was obstinate, I was selfish.
Previous to my marriage, circum -
stances kept this infirmity of disposition
in check, and for some mouths after, I
controlled it.
But erelong there was a change.
Before the second year of my married
life ha<l passed away I had become that
worst of all oppressois—a household
tyrant.
At any annoyance, no matter how
slight—if my meals were not ready at
the appointed hours, if a paper or book
were mislaid, I would give way to ex ■
pressions of auger, of which afterwards,
I really felt ashamed, knowing how un
worthy they were of a man; ana yet,
then again. I repeated thorn, and more
violently than before.
My wife bore this with patience, hut
her indulgence chafed me, and I some
times uttered taunts which no human
being conld suffer in silence.
Then came a reply, and when this re
ply did come, sad scenes occurred. I
would work myself into an insane pas
sion, aud utter words which in my cool
er moments I shuddered at; and which
invariably drove her weeping from the
room. And yet soon after she would
come, and beg to bo forgiven for the
very words which I had forced her to
atter.
The d emon within me rejoiced to see
her pride thus humbled before mine, for
never no matter how much in fault, did
I seek a reconciliation.
My temper became more and more
violent, ai>d at length, in one of our fr
quent quarrels, I proposed a separa
tion.
Had a serpent stung her she would
not have gazed on it as she did on me ,
"When you please," she finally re
plied, and left the room.
I stood aghast at what I had done. I
had proposed a separation, and she had
consented. I had said that OH that
very day I would commence arrange
ments for the purpose,—and could I
MILLIIEIM, PA.. THURSDAY. MAY 25,1882.
break my word? Could I go to bar,
and bog her not to lonve mo, and tkat,
when 1 niYHolf lmd proposed audi a
stop? My priui again forbade mo, and
I obeyed its dictates; but there still re
mained a secret hope within me that,
on 000 l reflection, she herself would
refuse.
I determined to consult a lawyer, in
whose secrecy I could confide, and
make such arrangements as were abso
lutely necessary,
I did so, and awaited results
That night we were to g.> to a party.
We did so. But not a word passed
either of our lips 011 the way.
Duriug the evening thevoiee of some
cue singing attracted my attention.
The tones seemed familiar; I could not
be mistaken, the voice was hers.
When it was finished she raised her
eyes for a moment, and commenced
another song—one I had never heard
before—the story of a proud heart
broken!
Then she ceased and rose from her
seat, but so white was she that I feared
she would faint.
Wo soon returned home. The dis
tance was short, but the time seemed an
age till we reached our house. I would
have givon worlds to have spoken and
to have told her all—all my sorrow, all
my repeuteueo—but I could not; my
tongue clove to the roof of my mouth;
nor, indeed, until after she bode me
good night., could I utter a word.
Then, and only then, I stammered
out a request that she would remain a
few moments.
She closed the door, and returned to
her oliair, raising her large dark eyes
inquiringly to mine,
"Fanny," I said at last—l had not
called her so for many months before—
"Funny, will you sing me those songs
you sang to night?"
"Certainly, if you wish it," she re
plied, and seating herself at the piano,
she sang them again, in a char, calm
tone.
1 had determined, when the songs
were concluded,to seek a reconciliation,
but the demon, pride, whispered.
"Will you be less firm than she? This
cannot last —why humiliate yourself?"
Alas, I listened aud obeyed. I suf
fered the last opportunity to recall our
lost happiness to escape.
Pride, the tyrant, was obeyed, and I
suffered her to leave the room with a
"good-night."
1 went up into my own lonely cham
ber, and sat down and pondered on the
events of the evening, regretting bitter
ly my folly in suffering my pride to
master me.
I heard my wife moving about her
room, which adjoined my own, and
then suddenly a heavy fall and a low
moan.
I rushed into her apartment, and
found her extended on th floor.
I raised her in my arms and to my
horror blood was streaming from her
mouth.
The tmth flashed upon mo at once—
she had broken a blood-vessel —sho
would die!
I sprang to the bell. In a few min
utes, —minutes which seemed an age,—
the servants enterod the room, but stag
gered, horror-stricken at beholding,
their beloved mistress apparently in the
agonios of death.
"The doctor!—a doctor!" I shouted.
"She will die—she will die!"
In a second they all went but one,
who was sobbing and praying while
she wiped the blood from the blue lips
of her expiring mistrsss.
Oh wuat agony I suffered during the
interval which ensued beforo tLro arrival
of the physician!
I called her by the dearest names; I
begged her to speak one word. I en
treated Iter to forgive me—only to smile
once more.
She slowly opened her large eyes; a
slight smile passed over her face, and
she was—dead!
Just then the physicians entered, and
I begged and prayed of them to exert
their skill to save her.
"It will be useless to attempt it," was
their passionless reply; "110 human
power can restore life."
I did not believe them. My wife was
-not, could not be dead. I clasped her
in my arms; I kissed her brow, her lips,
and all became a blank!
Several months elapsed ore I recover
ed, and since that time my days have
been passed iu tears and in prayers at
her grave, my nights in dreaming of her
goodness, her lovo, and my terrible sin.
Years have rolled away since she was
consigned to the tomb -years of suffer
ing, of remorse, in which I clothed my
spirit with sackcloth, and heaped ashes
on my head. My deep repentance has, I
fervently hope at length procured for
giveness. Last night she smiled upon
me in my dreams, and beckoned me
away. I most joyfully acknowledge the
summons. Ere many days I shall cross
the portal of that mystic land where
sorrows come not; and forgetting my
crime, I shall abide with my angel for
ever and ever.
He that or.ee did you a kindness will
be more ready to do yon another than
he whom you yourself have obliged.
What can a man do more than die for
his countrymen? Live for them; it is a
longer work, and therefore a more diffi
cult aud noble one.
Ailvlru to Young Littllrn.
John Buskin gives the following ad
vice to young Indies; "In order to in
vestigate oneself, it is well to find out
what one is now. Don't think vaguely
about it. Take pen and paper and
write down as accurate a description of
yourself as is jmssible, and if you dare
not, try and get strength of hear
enough to look yourself in the face,
mind as well as body. Always havo4wo
mirrors on your dressing table, and
with proper care dress mind and body
at the same time. Put your best intelli
gence to finding out what you are good
fur and what you can be made into. The
mere resolve not to be useless and the
honest desire to help other people will,
in the quickest and most delicate way,
improve oneself. All accomplishments
should be considered as means of as
sisting others. 111 music get the voice
disciplined and clear, and think only of
accuracy; expression and effect will take
cere of themselves. So in drawing;
learn to set down the right shape of any
thing, and thereby explain its character
to another person; but, if you try only
to make showy drawings for praise, or
pretty ones for amusement, your draw
ing will have little or no real interest
for you and 110 educational power. Re
solve to do each day something useful
in the vulgar sense. Learn the ecouo
IPJ of the kitchen, the good and had
qualities of every oommon article of
food, and the simplest and best modes
ot their preparation; help poor families
in their cooking, show them how to
make as muck of everything as possi
ble, and how to make little niceties;
coaxiug and tempting them into tidy
and pretty ways, and pleading for woli
folded table cloths, however ooarse, and
for a flower or two omt of the garden to
strew, OB tliem. One should, at the
end of exery day, be able to say, as
proudly as any peasant, that she has
not eaten the bread of idleness. Get
quit of tlit absurd idea that Heaven will
interfere to oorrect great errors, while
allowing its laws to take their own
course in punishing small ones. If
food is carelessly prepared no one ex
peets Providence to make it palatable;
neither if, through years of folly you
misguide your own life, need you ex
pect Divine interference to bring around
everything at lust for the best. I tell
you, positively, the worid is not so con
stituted. TUs consequences of great
mistakes are just as sure as those of
small ones, and the happiness of your
whole life and of all the lives over which
you nave power, depends as literally
011 your common sense aud discretion
HS the excellence aud erder of a day.' (
All Ah.nit Turnadoen.
There has been prepared by Gen. ilazou
the Cuief Signal Officer of the county, an
official paper which contains a tabulated
statement of six hundred tornadoes and
some generalizations from their facts. The
six huudied storms cover a period of
eighty seven years and the whole countiy.
Their examination leads to the conclusion
that tornadoes occur most frequently in
the month of June. Kansas is the Stale
that lias been most atll cted. The JState
has had sixty two tornadoes ftom 1859 to
1881; Illinois has had fifty-four from 1854
to 1881; Missouri has had forty-four Irom
1814 to 1881; New York has had thirty
live from 18:11 to 1881; Georgia, thirty
three from 18;.>4 to 1881; lowa, thirty one
from 1854 to 1881; Oiiio, twenty-eight
from I82:j to 1881, indiaua, twenty-seven
Iroiu 18§2 to 1881. The biates and Terri
tories that have bad only oue each from
1784 to 1881 are Colorado, California, In
dian Ty., Nevada, New Mexico, Montana,
Unode island, West Virginia and Wyoming
The storms occur most frequently from
five to six in the afternoon, although there
is no hour of the day that has been entirely
frte from them The avtraire width of the
path of destruction is 1,085 feet and the
storm-clouds run with a velocity of from
twelve to sixty miles. The wind within
the vortex sometimes attains a velocity of
eight hundred miles au hour, the avrage
velocity being three hundred aud ninety
two miles. Among the most valuable
suggestions of the paper are those with
reference to the peculiarity of the move
ments of tornado clouds, containing rules
for arriviug at their violence. A tornado
cloud always has a Beulre. aud it always
moves forward from west to east. It may
however, sway from side to side in its pro
gressive movement. Changes in motiou
are sometimes very sudden. In the event
of a sudden change the observer who is
east or south of east of the storm
should move quickly to tne south. If
he is northeast he should move to the
north. If within a very short distuuee
of the clouds the observer should run
east, blearing to the south. Tins indi
cates the character of the directions which
have been given lor the avoiuance of the
disastrous effect of st®ruis.
Child Lif# lu .lupitii.
Child life appears to be much alike in
all countries; and hoops, and tops, balls,
battledores, kites, cat-and-dog and "the
chucks" engage children here as they do
at home. The land is farmed much as it
is in France—in small patches aud with
out feuces. Cultivation is by the h?e.
The laud is fertile aud in several places
two crops are got in the year. The peo
ple are very industrious, and men, women
and children work in the fields. Un the
hillsides tea aud rice are cultivated in
terraces, as the vines is on the hills by the
Rhine. I have seen what the Bible speaks
of as "watering by the foot." Ihe hus
bandman breaas with his foot the ridge
of a terrace, and permits water to run
therefrom into the terrace below. When
a sufficient quantity ha 9 run down he
closes the aperture with iiis foot. Child
ren swarm in the street, and those of sev
en years of age carry those of one or two
on their backs. There are good school
houses, and education in "the three It's"'
is compulsory. The hum of the children
learning their lessons is like 1 hat 1 have
heard iu old times iu our parish schools.
Crazu For Tops.
The lop mania has attacked the boys
not in a mild, gentle form, but with ai! Ihe
malignity of an epidemic. The rape of
the 15 puzzle anionic adult* was nothing
compared to the power of the top craze.
The Ucrmau tmy is content to see his top
spin, but the American boy uever rested
until he had mveuted two or three lively
gauies to play with tops. The primitive
cheapest top is made by cutting a spool in
two, driving a hard piece of wood into the
hole, sud working the small end of the
spool dowu to a point. These tops are
spun by twirling them with the fingers.
The regulation top is made in a turning
lsthe alxiut the size of a pear, and pro
vided with a steel point. The best are
made of box wood and cost sl. The
cheaper varieties vary IU price from 2 to
25 cents. The manipulator winds a string
around the top, (good fishing line is best) j
aud then with a sudden jerk pull of the
cord sends it spinning on the sidewalk or
ground. There are numerous fancy vari
eties of tops. One 13 a tiu affair, almost
flat on the upper end, where are attached
numerous pieces of bright colored paste
board. Touch these lightly as the top re
volves and tiie disarrangement of the
pieces makes a kaleidoscopic change of
colors seemingly never twice alike. An
other is the humming top, made below
with a hole in one side. It makes some
such noise as an irritated hornet. The
practical variety, however, is the plain,
cheap top*
"Wiiai game do you play with tops 7 "
asked the writer of a newsboy.
lie opened his big eyes wide wiili won
derment that any mortal should be so igno
rant and said: "Why, peg-a;-ory aud
peg-er small-pox. Don't you know how to
play peg-er peg-a-tory? Oh, yer foolin!
Honest now, don't ver know how? Wall,
it's this way: We pink for the hue. Piukin'
for a line is throwiu' out tops at it, makin'
'em spin as they go. The fellew that comes
furthest from the line sets lumselt iu a
ring, an' the others spin their'n and peg at
u8 top with 'em. If a boy's top spins aud
rolls out o' of the ring, he's all right; but
if it don't spin, or don't roll out o' the
riug he's got to put his in the ring with
th'other one. Then, if all the tops get in
the ring, the first one that got in lakes
his'u up aud tries to knock the others out.
As muuy as he knocks out he nicks. Then,
tiie ones that are moketl are all rittht, an'
ihey peg at the others to knock 'cm out.
That's peg-a-tory. Peg or small-pox is
where one boy puts h:s top iu the ring,
and the other pegs at it. Whoever Knocks
it out of the riug nicks it or gives it the
small-pox with his Up The feller that's
uicked can then try an' knock tnc top out
that's in the ring. Xickiu' is takin' a top
up and punchm' so many holes in it with
the sharp point of your top. A top don't
stand it long. Sometimes we pla\ for 10
aud sometimes 25 nicks."
The best tops will spin a wonderfully
long time. O. e boy boosts a top that will
go over two minutes and no uian with a
2 18 horse was ever prouder or received
more proportionate flattenug offers for his
property than the owner of this twj
minute top.
Forty Ceul*.
Recently a stranger who was coming
up from the Union depot, Detroit,
stepped aside to ask of a man in the
door of a clothing store; "My friend,
can you tell me how far—?"
"Do yon want to buy 101110 clothing?'
interrupted the other.
"I guess not. I simply wanted to in
quire how—?"
"I sells you a spring oafercoat for
three dollar."
"I never wear more than one spring
overcoat at tiio same time. I wanted to
ask-"
"I have some wesis for a dollar
"That's cheap enough, hut I don't
care to invest. A ill yon let me ask you
how far—
"Doan' you vhaut some luutloous for
twelve shillings?"
"No."
"Some stockings for teu cents?"
"No."
"Some suspenders for two shillings?"
"No. I wanted to ask——"
"Isell yon a hat for sixty cents."
The stranger picked up his satchel
and walked across the street. Then
facing about, he shouted out;
"I wanted to ask you how far it was
from Dan to Ber——!"
But the clothier dr >wned him ont
right there with:
"Und call and oxamiue my undershiit
for forty cents!"
Lucky EiKipe,
On the night of October 14, 1651, a
tall swarthy young man with a compan
ion slipped into the George Inn, Brigh
ton, auil said he would wait to meet a
seafaring acquaintance. In earlier days
the host had been employed in oue of
the London palaces, and ho recognized
in his seedy visitor Prince Charles, son
of the monarch who, more than two
years before, had been beheaded at
Whitehall. After the battle of Worces
tor the young king had experienced
many adventures and worn many dis
guises—theie was a price upon his
head; but the innkeeper, either from
loyalty or discretion, did not offer to
molest the fugitive or his companion.
The captain of a collier; Nicholas Tet
tersell, then appeared, and took Charles
and his companion, who was the Earl of
Rochester, on board his vessel and lan
ded them in France, for which service
many things were promised. The Re
storation came, but none of the gifts,
and Tettersell therefore sailed into the
Thames aud moored off Whitehall, where
his drngy bark attracted the attention of
the King, who, being thus reminded,
gave the captain a ring, a peipetual
annuity of one hundred pounds a year,
and took the collier into the Navy under
1 the name of the "Lucky Escape."
Old Places.
11l Prince George's County, Mary
land near the Baltimore and Ohio Rail
road stands the old Jenkins Mansion in
a clearing of the forest. It Is of stone
brought in Couestoga wagons, is built in
the most substantial manner, says a
correspondent and it seems to stand as
firm as ever, though the moss lies thick
upon its roof and the ivy and the arbu
tus sling to its time-stained walls. The
broad portico and its huge stone pillars
are crumbling hero and there, but even
they are resisting decay slowly. The
rooms inside, with their antique por
traits, furniture, chimney places aud
polisod brass andirons carry you
back to the days of Knickerbockers and
Periwigs, and the family take great
pride iu showing a room which Lafay
ette onoo occupied when a guest of the
family. The house is situated just off
the old Washington turnpike, and dur
ing the Revolution it was a convenient
and favorite place of rest for many of
the most celebrated American officers,
including General Washington himself,
when passing between Washington city
and Baltimore. Its site is one charming
in p'cturesque beauty, surrounded by
high box-wood hedges, and in the back
ground flows the blue Patuxent. The
big stable and several old coaches are
still there, but the stalls are nearly all
empty and the grass is creeping up
among the gravel of the serpentine
drive. The negro quarters, too, arc
deserted and the smoke curls over only
a very few cabins. An infirm negro,
bowed with age, limped by me, and
with the politeness of the old days re
moved his hat to mo and disappeared
around the dairy. No other living
thing was visible. The old place seem
ed a symbol of departed glory.
Another interesting spot near by tiie
Jenkins mansion is the ruins of one of
the first iron furnaces in the oountry.
Iron ore is very prolific about this sec
tion and the Muirkirk" Furnace is not
faraway where operations are still go
ing on. There I was shown a piece of
pig iron with the perfectly defined im
pression of a human toe in the metal.
Charles E. Coffin, president of the
Muirkirk Iron Company, is authority
for the story of a negro salamander who
worked there up to a few years ago.
This man was in the habit of removing
hi* shoes, and with feet perfectly bare
troadiug about upon the red-hot pigs of
iron. He became famous for this
astonishing performance, and the
negroes one aud all believed him to be
in league with Beelzebub and avoided
him like a pest. It is said that he oonld
depopulate a saloon in an instant by
entering where a crowd of sujierstitious
darkeys were assembled. The local
minister of the Methodist church once
told the story ol the negro's astonishing
feats before the conference in Washing
ton aud was severely handled by his
brethren for giving utterance to what
seemed to be suoh a palpable impossi
bility. His veracity was questioned and
his position before the conference be
came a serious one. At last the matter
assumed such importance that they
adjourned and visited "White Oak Bot
tom-' in a body. They saw to their
surprise what seemed like a miracle per
formed before their eyes aud they re
moved their censure from the story
teller. The impression I saw in the pig
of iron was said to be from the toe of
the man, who is now w irking in How
ard county at less hazardous employ
ment.
The neighborhood is full of historic
interest, as it was closely identified with
many imjrortaut events in the War of
the Revolution. It was at Bludensburg,
but a few miles southeast, where Uock
liurn and Ross fought their celebrated.
battle in 1814j just previous to the
capture d Washington. Many of the
old mansions are now occupied by
prominent men, Ex.Gh>vrenor Oden
Bowie has his home and his stables of
fiue racing horses there. Admiral
Amwen, Chief of the Bureau of
Construction, United States Nary, his
biother, Geueial Aminen, and State
Senator Albertsou each occupy old
family homes there. The visitor will be
surprised to find a section of country so
close to two large cities so little affected
by the march of progress. Particularly
is this true in relatioiUto the colored
race. The old special holiday occasions
peculiar to the anti- slavery days are
still religiously observed. At these
times they assemble at an appointed
place in large numbers and perform
their games with all the old-time vim
and enthusiasim. These are not
unlike the children's ring plays, except
that they are accompanied by wild
refrains and choruses characteristic of
the race. As I boarded the train for
Washington a day or two ago I was
c mviuced that this primitive little
section of Prince
dreaming serenely in the memory of
the past.
Energy will do everything tliat can
be dome in the world; and no talents, no
circumstances, no opportunities, will
make a two-legged animal a man with
out it.
According to Zeno, ib is a very sug
gestive fact that we have two ears and
only one tongue. It is better to listen
than to talk, and always safe to tell no
more than half we hear.
Moantala roronta.
Attention has long keen given to devis
ing means to limit the ravag soi these
torrents, which ruin the land, threaten es
tates, destroy roads, and sometimes eveu
compromise the existence of villages.
Walls have been built along the banks to
protect them, or across the streams to allay
the force of the waters. The most effica
cious means, however, as yet discovered,
has been to mamtoin the woods on the
slopes of the mountain. The effect of
cutting away the trees in promoting the
formation of torrents has not been doubted
by the inhabitants of mountainous regions
and is clearly set forth by M. Surrell, who
says:
"When we examine the tracts in the
midst of which torrents of recent origin
have been formed, we perceive that they
have in all cases been despoiled of their
trees and bushes. If, on the other hand,
we examine hills whose sides have beeu
recently stripped of wood, we observe that
they are cut up by numerous torrents,
which have evidently been formed very
lately. Here Is a remarkable double fact:
wherever there are recent torrents there
are no longer forests, and wherever the
ground is cleared these torrents are formed;
and the same eyes that see the woods fall
on the declivity of a mountain may see
appear there immediately a multitude of
torrents.
1 he disastrous consequences of removing
the woods from the Alps began to attract
attention m the last century, aud have
since been discussed in many publications
and official reports. In 1858 the Prefect
of the Department of the L>wer Alps said
in a report to the Minister:
"If prompt and energetic measures are
not taken it will be almost impossible to
designate the precise moment when the
French Alps will become a desert. The
period from 1851 to 1853 will produce a
new diminution in the uumber of popula
tion. In 1861 the Minister will remark a
continuous and progressive reductiou la
the uumber of hectares devoted to agricul
ture; each year will aggravate the evil,
and in a half century France will count
more ruins and one department less.*'
The departments of the Upper and
Lower Alps actually lost 80,000 inhabitants
or one-ninth of their population, between
1851 and 1876. A law for recovering the
mountains with wood, which had been
prepared by M. Fore ide do Rouguet, Di
rector General of the Administration of
tne Forests, was adopted by the Legisla
tive bodies in 1860 and was put in opera
tion shortly afterward.
To Be Sure.
The time appointed tor the marriage
ceremony in the church was 3 o'clock in
the afternoon. Borealis Brown, the
bridegroom, and Aurora White, tue bride,
were in a close carriage fen blocks away at
six min ites before 3.
•'We shall get there right on time," said
he, looking at his watch.
Now, it is dreadfully unfashionable to
get to the church promptly, and Aurora
would have felt just like dropping through
the floor, don't you know, if she had
walked up the sisle on time,
"Don't you think, my dear, it would be
better to be Itn minutes late?" said she,
ieanmg against him in a kind of harmless
hug.
"No; I pride myself on punctuality."
"Five minutes, then?"
"Now, my darling, don't coax."
"Just as you say.''
She put her hand carelessly on his
shoulder, and then let it drop slowly along
down over his coat to a small pocket 8A in
at the waist statu, where it lingered for a
few seconds.
"You have the ring where you can find
it readily." she remarked, laying placidly
back in her seat. "Tnere is nothing so
awkward as to fumble for the ring at the
altar, you know "
"On, I've made sure of that point as I
told you," he said confidently. "I slipped
the ring right iuto this handy little pocket
where I—Good Lord in Heaven!"
"What, Borealis—what ?"
"The ring is lost!"
He thrust his fingers into his pocket
madly, again and again, but the ring surely
the ring was not there. He made wild
conjectures, felt in all his other pockets,
and concluded that he must have left it at
Aurora's residence. He ordered the coach
man to go about. Wheu they had gone
back almost to the house a public clock
struck 3,
44 What is that?" said Aurora, pointing
to the bottom of the carriage.
The ring lay glittering in a corner.
"1 must have dropped it," Borealis,
said picking it up, "but I swear 1 looked
in that very spit not two minutes
ago."
He had looked there, as a matter of
fact, just before Aurora threw the ring
down.
••Well," he remarked, looking at his
watch again, "you will have your way,
after all. We can't get to the church
before ten minutes late anyhow."
44 To be sure "
The Mourner s Boueh.
Evangelist Barnes, the Preacher of
the Mouutains, has been laboring late
ly at Frankfort, Ky. In that place lives
John Rocketty, whose life, though not
a bad one, has been without the fold.
Happening to meet Mr. Rocketty the
other day Mr. Barnes urged him to
mend his ways. Mr. Rocketty scouted
the suggestion, whereupon the
Evangelist was nettled. "I will bet you
ten to one in fifties" said Rock
etty, "that you can't convert me.
' -Done," said Barnes, "I'll bring you to
the mourners' bench within ten da; s."
The pool sellers of the town are
reported to have opened pools on the
result. At first it was 85 to 15 that
Rocketty would withstand the
eloquenoe of the mountaineer. The
odds rapidly fell, however, until the
betting was 98 to 2 against Rocketty,
who on the eighth day walked up to the
mourners' bench.
The best people need afflictions for
trial of their virtue. How can we ex
ercise the grace of contentment if all
things succeed well; of that of forgiv
ness, if we have no enemies?
NO 21.