VOL. LVI.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
J C. SPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber,
Next Door to JOURNAL Store,
MILLHKIH, PA.
JJROCKERHOFF HOUSE,
ALLEGHENY STREET,
BttLLKFONTE, - - - PA
c. O. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
#®-Free BUM to nil from all Trains. Special
rates to wltuessea and Juror*. 4-1
IRVIN HOUSE.
(Most Central Hotel In tbe City J
Corner MAIN and JAY Streets,
Lock Haves, Pa.
8. WOODS CALWELL, Proprlettr.
Good Sample Rooms for Commercial
Travelers on first floor.
D. H. MINGLE,
Physician and Surgeon,
MAIN Street, Millhkim, Pa.
JQR. JOHN F. HARTER,
PRACTICAL DENTIST,
Office In id story of Tomlinsoa'i Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, MILLHEIM, Pa.
Bf KINTIR,
a FASHIONABLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER
Shop next door to Foote's Store, Main St.,
Boots, Shoes and Oa'ters made to order, and sat
isfactory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt
ly aud cheaply, aud iu a neat style.
S. R. PKAI.K. H. A. McKxx.
PEALE Ac McKEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Offloe opposite Court House, Bellefonte, IV.
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
V.
Office In Carman's new building.
JOON B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Offloe on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Northweat corner of Diamond,
J-J XI. HAKTI*G,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street, 8 doors west of offloe
formerly occupied by the late flria of Yocum M
Hastings.
M. C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices In all the oourts of Centre County.
Bpecial attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
F. REEDER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
All business promptly attended to. Collection
of claims a speciality.
J. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart.
JJEAVER A GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
CUM & HARSHBERGER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
B. S. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA,
Consultations In English or German. Offloe
In Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street.
~D7H7 JUSTDJOS. w. F. RKKDER.
JJ ASTINGS A REEDER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny street, two doors east of the
ttfflce occupied by the late firm of Yocum A Hast
es. *O-17
Site pillleiti
MANY A TI>IK AND OFT.
Wlieu the house Is still ami the tin) is done,
And the stars aloft,
I stt by the failing Ure alone,
And think of the years that are past and gone,
Many a time and oft.
dream of that village by the sea;
1 dream of that seat by the tryatiug tree,
And of oue who will uever cme back to me,
Ah! ntauy a time and oft 1
When the city is hushed and the chimes are still,
And the voices of the crowd are soft,
My thoughts wander on at their own wild will,
Aud my tears fall fast and my heart Is chill,
Many a time aud oft.
I dream of the hopes, all failed and tied.
Of the vow that is broken, the shaft that Is sped;
Of one to whom 1 forever am dead—
Ah! many a time and oft.
A PHYSICIAN'S REWARD.
I had been six years a surgeon in the
navy, and fer the last two of these six
years I had been cruising on that dread
ful Gold Coast. Perhaps I was not the
best tempered man in the service, but I
thought I was badly treated. The Ad
miralty and I had a slight disagreement,
and the end was that I threw up my
commission in disgust, My health was
much broKen,ami while I was recruiting
my strength in a little Devon village, I
did the one thing which I have never
regretted, fell in love with a good girl
and married her. I had a certain amount
of money, which I invested in a country
practice; and for sometime all went well
with us.
Rut we were uot to escape our shore
of trouble. My health, which had suf
fered more seriously tliaii I imagined
during my period of service, broke down;
lhy practice went to the dogs; we got
deeply into debt, and, to make a loug
story short, three years after my mar
riage, one miseruble Sunday in Novem
ber, I found my wife and myself, with our
two little children occupying a single
poor room in Greenville street off Guild
ford street.
We had then beeu in London about six
months, and I had been unable—chiefly
on account of my precarious health —to
get anything to do. Al>out a month,
however, betore the day I sjieak of, my
only friend in Loudon had held out a
hope of obtaining for me the post of pri
vate physician to a wealthy relative.
But my friend had been compelled sud
denly to go abroad, and though lie was
daily expected back, yet three weeks
had now passed, and 1 had gone to his
home iu Kensington day after day with
out any tidings of him.
Meanwhile our little stock of money
was quite exhausted; everything that
can be spared was sold or pawned; aud
on this Sunday evening, with a mouth's
rent due next "day, my wife and 1 sat lie
fore a miserable apology for a tire, with
absolute want staring us in the face.
We had not quite a shilling left, and
when I looked at my sleeping children
and thought of the future. I fairly broke
down in utter despair. It was then I
found what a treasure I had in the noble
woman by my side. Affecting a cheer
fulness wiiich she could not feel,she im
parted to me a portion of her own cour
age, and at length induced me —anxious
to pleive her, and glad to do anything
rather thap sit powerless—to go once
to my friend's house.
It was ten o'clock, on a cold drizzling
night, when I sat out on my walk. 1
somehow felt a kind of fictitious hope
fulness and walked briskiy, resolutely
shutting out the thought of failure I
stood some time at my friend's door be
foie I dared to ring the bell that would
change my hopes or my fears into cer
tainty; and when at last the servant who
answered my ring told me that her mas
ter had not yet returned, I fairly slag
gered into a chair in the liail, overcome
with disappointment.
The woman, seeing my condition,
brought me a little brandy, which re
vived me somewhat; but it was some
time before I felt able to move, and it
struck midnight as I left the door for
my long and cheerless walk. The rain
fell in a steady drizzle, but though I
was lightly clad I never heeded it; my
thoughts were fixed on my poor wife
sitting alone and watching for me, and
en the wretched news I was bringing
her. I walked on, heedless of the bitter
cold and of the constant rain, fe ling the
numbness of misery in my heart.
How it happened I do not know, but
somehow I lost my way, and after wan
deriug aimlessly for some time, I found
that I was in a street that i did not
know —the Gray's Inn Road, as I after
ward learned. I could see no oue to
direct me, and was walking on rather
anxiously when I stumbled over the form
of a man, who was lying half out of the
covered entrance of a wretched court.
For a few yards 1 walked, too absorbed
in my own troubles to tliink of aught
else; but then, thank God, I thought of
the unfortunate man I 3 ing in the rain,
and as a doctor, felt, perhaps more
strongly than 1 otherwise should, that it
was my duty to go back and assist him
if possible. There was a gas-lamp in
the entrance to the court, and bv it I
was enabled to see that the prostrate fig
ure was that of a singularly tall aud
powerfully built man; and on a closer
inspection I was surprised to find that
his dress was that of a gentleman. At
once I though that he had been robbed
and perhaps murdered; but, taking his
hand to feel his pulse, I saw that he had
a remarkably handsome diamond ring
on his finger, and the beating of his
pulse though very faint showed me that
he was not.
Then I thought with something of
contempt, that I had a case of mere
drunkenness to deal with; but yet 011
careful examination i could detect no
fume of spirits, and the faint action of
his heart at length convinced me that
the man was in a state of complete ex
haustion, probably from want of food,
With considerable labor, in my weak
condition, I managed—half lifting, half
dragging him—to convey him into the
covered passage, and determined to stay
with him until some passer-by would
assist me. I had not waited long when
a half-tipsy woman, walking past, look
ed into the passage and came over to
see what was the matter. She looked
keenly at me and at my unconscious
patient, and I noticed her eye gleamed as
■he caught sight of a massive gr Id chain
on his vest,
I I asked her to go at onoe and fetch &s
MILLHEIM. PA., THURSDAY. JUNES. 1882.
sistauee, but alio immediately replied
that 1 heed not trouble myself any fur
ther.
"I know liini well, ITe'tt Koonev, that
owns the public house ueif by. I'll get
him home nil right."
At tirst her assurance almost imposed
upon me, but when 1 looked at the pale,
aristocratic face that I supported on my
knee, 1 felt convinced that she had in
vented the story with a view to plunder
ing the helpless man.
1 tdlk here sternly that if she did not
go for a policeman I would do so myself.
She went oil' hurriedly—as I thought tor
that purpose—but came back no more;
aud now 1 was once more alone with mv
strange patient, and as the minutes went
by I knew uot what to do.
Help, however, was near. I noticed
a poor gfrl—she did not look mere than
sixteen —walking slowly on the other
side of tlio street; I called to her, and
after a moment's hesitat ition she came
over. I briefly explained to her the cir
cuuistauces, and asked her, if she pessi
bly could, to get me a drop of cordial,
or the man would die.
••1 have only got fourpence," she
said, in a kindly Irish voice, "and I was
going to pay for my bed with tiiatat the
kitchen in Fill wood's Rents; but, sure
I'll get something from the ohemist's
instead, and I'll trust to God for a
night's lodging—l've slept out before
now."
And away she went—surely uot the
worst of Good Sumantaus.
Very soon she returned with the
medicine, and I sent her again to fetch
a policeman. I forced a little between
the man's teeth,aud presently he came to
and opened his eyes. I asked him hw he
came there; he said: "Tired and starv
ing." Aud then 1 asked him win ro he
came from, and lie suddenly brightened
up, and looking at me keenly for a mo
ment, said, •'Edinburgh," but from the
way he said it I felt convinced he was
deceiving me, and shortly after asked
the same question again, and he, with
the same look, said, "Glasgow."
In his weak state, however, I forliore
questioning him further, and a police
man coining up, we got him in a cab and
took him to the hospital, where I waited
until lie was put in bed. Before I left
I asked the house surgeon to give a
shilling to the poor girl—Mary Kennedy
was her name. He readily did so, and
she went off to sleep in "Old Walter's"
lodging-house iu Fulwood s Rents
When at last 1 got home, I found my
wife waiting anxiously for me. How
ever, when I told my story she forgave
the delay, and in talking over the strange
circumstances of the mglit we forgot foi
the time our own troubles. My wife in
sisted that something good would come
of the matter, aud at eight o'clock next
morning she roused me and made me
set off for the hospital. As I was on my
way there, my eye was caught by the
fallowing advertisement on a boarding:
"ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD. —A
Gentleman of unsound mind has escaped
from the M Private Asylum. The
above rewiml will be paid to any person
finding him and restoring him to his
friends."
Then followed a description which ex
actly tallied with the appearance of my
patient. Everything was now clear to
me, and I fairly ran to the hospital.
Here, however, my hojies were damp
ed, for I found that Policeman Z had
gone there before me and told a story
very different from the true one which I
have nariated, and had actually gone
the lcDgtli of warning the authorities
against me. The solicitor whose address
was given in the advertisement had been
sent for, and the worthy constable had
evidently determined to brazen it out
and secure the £IOO. I saw the house
surgeon, and told him the whole story.
He thought for a few moments,and then
said : "We must get the girl at once."
I went myself immediately to the
wretched den where she had stopjied,
and brought her back with me. A very
short examination before the solicitor
settled Policeman Z's case; and an hour
afterward I was able to go back to my
wife with more money in my pocket
than I had had for many a loi g day,
But that was not the best of it. I
visited my patient—who was no other
than the wealthy baronet, Sir Charles
Frampton—every day.
He was perfectly harmless, and after
residing abroad with us for a couple of
years, he so far recovered that he was
enabled to dispense with mv services,
and to manage his own affairs. He
showed his gratitude, however, in most
princely fashion; settled an annuity op
poor Mary Kennedy (she had previously
been liberally rewarded by his friends),
and bought for me the practice which J
still hold.
From that day every thing has pros
pered with me, and I am now rich
enougli to leave the work to my oldest
son, and amuse myself in writing some
of the curious incidents of my life, not
the least Btrange of which is the provi
dential occurrence in Gr <y's Inn Road,
A SinumsliiiK Macnlne.
A singular adaptation of the railway
engine has been made in Russia. In- 1
formation having been giving to the au
thorities at Alexandrovo, on the Polish
frontier, that the locomotive 01 the ex
press leaving that station for Warsaw
had been ingeniously converted into a
receptacle for smuggliug goods, it was
carefully examined during its sojourn
at that station. Though nothing was
fjund wrong, it wa3 deemed advisable
that a custom house official should ac
company Hhe train to its destination
where the engine furnace and boiler
were emptied and deliberately taken to
pieces. In the interior was discovered
a secret compartment, containing 123
pounds of foreign cigars and several
parcels of valuable silk. Several arrests
were made, including that of the driver,
but his astonishment at finding the en
gine to which he had s > long been ac
customed converted into a hardened
offender against the laws was so genuine
that he was released and allowed to re
turn to his duties.
Cooking in Gvriuuiiy.
I doubt whether the mysteries of Ger
man cooking are comprehensible to the
Anglo-Saxon mind, permanently endur
able l>y the Anglo Saxon stomach. In
order to obtain that pieoeo! mind which
is absolutely necessary to aid the digea
tiou of the compouuds which daily como
upon the table, one must not. seek to
comprehend.
Is there not a close relationship be
tween the methods of cooking of a peo
ple and their iateilectual and moral de
velopment? Cannot the positive, prac
tical directness of the Anglo-Saxon mind
be connected with their plain, succu
lent, unmistakable roast aud chops? —or
the grace aud asthetic sense of the
French referred to their delicate ragouts
and sauces?—and the cloudy self-evolv
ing philosophies oi the Germans to their
incomprehensible mixture of fish, tlesh,
fruit and vegetable#? Or would a closer
analysis show that the reverse process
works out food preparation from innate
characteristics?
The fundamental principle of German
cooking is to mix as many incongruous
things as possible. My countrymen
have a special talent, recognized the
woild over, for inventing mixed drinks
but their combinations pale before those
of the Germaus in mixed cooking. That
oompouud which is so toothsome to a
German, a herring salad, is eouoocted
from sixteen different articles. A Ger
mau beefsteak is made of hashed meets,
rolled in a ball and fried* What they
call roast is a chuck of meet boiled a
while and then baked; it usually looks
like a lump of iudia rubber. With the
meats is always served a compote, made
of stewed or preserved fruits. The vege
tables are deemed at their best when
they are floating in grease. Sausage,
however, is the great national delicacy.
It is producetl in great varieties of size
and quality; anil the sausage siiops of
Berlin are the mast elegant in the city.
The Germau family table, with its mys
terious and abominations, is the sever
est which the American has to undergo
who submits himself to the domestic life
of the country. My estimable landlady
modified her cuhnaiy practices somewhat
to suit my faucies; yet six mouths of
effort failed to reconcile me to the
strange diet. 1 havo met with a few
Americans in Germany, a long time
there, who first endured, then finally
embraced the execrable cookery; but as
one might suspect,they have in a degree
liecome denationalized.
In Berlin, however, one is not obliged
to suffer this daily martyrdom; there are
a few g-K)d restaurants, where one can
fare sumptuously and in a civilized way.
Church Fair*.
It was a church fiiir.and he had come
there at a special request of his "cou
sin," who was at the head of the flower
table. He opened the door bashlully,
and stood hat in hand, looking at the
brilliant scene before him, when a
young lady rushed up, and grabbing
him by the arm, said:
"Oh, you must, you will take a
chance in our cake. Come right ovir
here. This way."
Blushing to the roots of his hair, he
stammered out that "really he didn't
have the pleasure of knowing—"
"Oh, that's all right," said the young
lady. "You'll know me better before
you leave. I'm one of the managers,
you understand. Come, the cake will
all be lakeu if you don't hurry.''
She almost dragged him over to one
of the middle tables, and then said:
"There, now, only fifty cents for a
slice, and ychi may get a real gold ling.
You had better take three or four
slices. It will increase your chances
you know."
"You're verv good," he stammered,
"but I'm not fond of cake—that is, 1
haven't any use for the ring—I—I"
"Ah, that will be ever so nice," said
the youug lady, "for now if you get the
ring, you can give it back, and we'll put
it in another cake."
"Y-e-s," said the young man with a
sickly smile, "to be sure, but, but—"
' Oh, there isn't any 'but' about it."
said the young lady smiling sweetly.
"You know you promised ?" /
"Promised !"
"Well, no, not exactly that, but you
will take just one slice ?" and she looked
her soul into his eyes.
"Well, I suppose—" •
"To be sure. To be sure. There is
your cake" and she slipped a great
.slice into his delicately gloved hands as
he handed her a dollar bill.
"Oh, that is too nice," added the
young lady, as she swiftly slapped an
other li< e of cake on top of the one he
was holding in his hand. "I knew you
would take two chances;"' and his
dollar biil disappeared across the table,
and then she called to a companion:
"Oh, Miss Larkins, here is a gentle
man who wishes to have his fortune
told."
"Oh, does he? Send him right over,"
answered Miss Larkins.
"I beg your pardon, but I'm afraid
you are mistaken. 1 don't remember
saying anything about—"
"Oh, but you will," said the first
yoang lady, tugging at the youth's arm.
'lts for the good of the cause, and you
won't refuse—will you?" and once more
the beautiful eyes looked soulfully into
his.
Ho was soon, but quite aguiust his
will, at the "fortune teller's table.
"Here we are!" Miss Larkins bluntly
blurted out, as she thrust ail envelope
towards him. "That'll tell you all aliout
it," He took it and opened it hesitating
ly; Miss Larkins turned liim around to
the light and he read;
"You are going to be married iu a
year!"
"Oh, isn't that jolly! And all that
good news for seventy five cents?"
And the poor youth oame down with
another dollar note,which Miss I arkins
instantly crumpled up and stuffed into
her pooket, remarking nonchalantly,
but in quite a business way to the wait
ing young man—"No change here you
know."
"Oh, come, lot's try our weight," said
the first young lady, once more tugging
at the bashful youth's coat sleeve, and
before he knew where he was, he was
standing on the platform of the scales.
"One hundred and thirty-two," said
the lady. "Oh, how I should like to be
a great heavy man like you," and she
stepped on the scales as lightly as a
bird. "One hundred and eighteen,"
she called out. "Well, that is light.
One dollar please!"
"What!" said the youth, "Ouedollar!
su't that pretty steep? I mean—"
"Oil! butynu know," said the youDg
lady, "it is for charity;" and another
dollar was added to the treasury of the
fair.
• I think I'll have to go. I have an
engagement at '
"Oh! but first you must buy me a
bouquet, fwr taking yon all around,"
said the lady. "Right over here,' and
A few steps brought them iu front of the
flower table. "Here is just what I
want," and the young lady picked up a
basket of roses and violets. ' 'Seven
dollars, please."
"Oh, Jack, is that you?" cried the
poor youth's cousin, from behind the
flower counter, "and buying flowers for
Miss Gaggle, too? Oh, I shall be ter
ribly jealous uuless you buy me a bask
et, too," and she picked up an elaborate
affuir.
"Twelve dollars please, Jack," and
the youth put down the money looking
terribly confused, as much as though he
didn't know whether to make a bolt for
the door, and give up all hope and set
tle down in despair.
"You'll excuse me, Indies," he stam
mered, "but I must go. lhave—"
"Here, let me pin this in your button
hole." interrupted his cousin. "Fifty
cents, please,", and the youth broke
away and made a straight line for the
door.
"Well, if I ever visit another fair may
I be—be- he ejaculated, as he coun
ted over his cash to see if he had the
car fare to ride home.
Win*t the Cilrls Should Learn,
By all means let the girls learn Low to
cook. Wiiat right has a girl to marry
and go into a house of her owu unless
she knows how to superintend every
branch of housekeeping, and she cannot
properly superintend unless she has
some practical knowledge of herself.
Most men mairy without thinking
whether the woman of liis choice is
capable of cooking him a meal,and it is a
pity he is so shortsighted,and bis health,
his cheerfulness, and indeed his success
in life depends in a very great degree
upon the kind of food he eats; in fact,
the whole household is influenced by
their diet. Feed them on fried cakes,
fried meats, hot bread, and other indi
gestible viands, day after day, and they
will need medicine to make them well.
A man will take alcohol to counteract
the evil effects of such food, aud the
wife and children mut be physicked.
Let all the girL have a share in the
housekeeping at homo before they marry;
let each superintend some department
by turns. It need not occupy half the
time to see that the house has been
properly swept,dusted and put in order,
or to prepare puddings and make dishes,
that many young ladies speud in reading
novels that enervate both mind and
body aud unfit them for every-day life.
Women do not, as a general rule, get
pale faees by doiug housework. Their
sedentary habits, in overheated rooms,
combined with ill-chosen food, are to
blame for their bad health. Our mothers
used to pride themseves on their house
keeping and fine needle work. Why
should not we?
Lacustrine Kellc*.
Recently further finds of lacustrine
relics have occured at Steckborn, on
Lake Constance. Among them are two
vases in perfect condition, quartzite or
naments, carved boars' teeth arrows,
and other weapons. A new lacustrine
station lias been discovered at Arbon,iu
the same neighborhood; but except the
piles on which the houses were built, no
relics of importance have come to light.
On the other hand, the sinking of the
lake has laid bare the foundation of a
Roman watch tower and the paved road
that connected it with the mainland, a
circumstance from which it is inferred
that the level of Lake Comstance is now
considerably higher than it was 1,600 or
1,800 years ago. The watch-tower,
paved way, and lacustrine station are
all near the landing-place at Arbon. At
another lacustrine village near Boer
hauson a number of relics rimilar to
those collected at Steckborn kaye been
found.
Claret.
The phylloxera has desolated the Gi
ronde,and has not left unscarred French
vineyards elsewhere. Freuch vines have
been yielding little liquor and bad.
Wine drinkers are scarcely conscious of
the disaster. They are resolved to have
their claret, and Bordeaux is too cour
teous not to gratify them. Xeres sends
full hogsheads of sherry. Oporto sup
plies its natural port. Zaute contri
butes its currants, and Crete its malm
sey. Australia itself heljw to fill up
the void which the malignant blight
has created. Sherry, port, malvoisie,
Christmas currant", broglio, and Marsa
la, all flow into hospitable Bordeaux,
rough aud smooth, sweet and sour; they
issue from it veritabble claret, and are
bought and imbibed with undoubted
faith by the unsuspicious.
Much of the pleasure which English
men have enjoyed in drinking claret has
been derived from tbe belief that they
were drinking a wine absolutely pure.
Port and sherry and champagne are
manufactured. Claret and Burgundy
have been supposed to be the mere
juioe of the grapes of the vineyards in
the vicinity in which they are made. In
one sense all wine is a manufacture, and
a very elaborate manufacture. It may,
however, manufacture itself, and this is
what Bordeaux and Burgundy have been
credited with doing. In reality, they
have at all times been liable to a certain
amount oi composition. The stronger
wince of the Rhone have for ages been
blended with the weaker vintages of the
Garonne. An occasional practioe has,
through the devastations of the recent
■pest, been oonverted into a settled
habit. Bordeaux, to judge from the sta
tistics of its importation of alien materi
als, would seem to have been for several
years past in process of transformation
from a manufactory of French wine
into a laboratory for the introduction
into wines from every part of the world
of a French flavor and French qualities.
So long as only grape juice is borrowed
for the mixture the counterfeit is com
paratively innocent. The danger is that
chemical ingenuity, when Levant cur
rants fail or the price of Spanish, and
Italian and Portuguese grapes rises,
may dispense with grapes altogether.
A Hoy's Oituiff of Circuit.
Not long ago, an old woman named
Lutetia Perkins, residing at Maoon,
locked up her two grandchildren, one a
boy about tea and a little girl about
three vers of age. The children were
locked up in the house, but the window
Vas opened, out of which they looked
upon a frightful sight. In the adjoining
lot lives Sol Clemens and wife. In this
yard from the limb of a tree ts suspend
ed a single rope, at the end of which is
a large knot, and the boys used this to
swing upon. Aunt Lutetia had in her
employ boy named John Henry Cal
vin. • He went to the house, and then
into the next lot where hung the swing,
and told the children who were watching
from the window that he was going to
play circus. After swinging awhile in
the usual way, he got upon a piece of
scantling that was laid upon the fenee
and the tree, aud then put the rope,
aronnd his neck. Having done this he
told the children that he was going to
play circus and hang himself off, The
children saw his convulsions, but could
not get to him, and could not have help
ed in any way, as they were too smalL
though they might have called assis
tance.
Aunt Lutetia returned from the fun
eral about half-past four o'clock. As
soon as the children saw her from the
window they called to her to hurry up,
as John had hung himself. She repair
ed at once to the swing,but the boy had
been dead some time. The boy evi
dently miscalculated the distance when
he swung off, He was found in a sitting
posture, his feet touching the ground
and kis body about six inches from it.
CorNtß or No Corsets.
Fred Treves of London who has paid
great attention to the matter of ladies
costume says the notion that women
need the support of stays is an entirely
erroneous one; nevertheless, the eye of
the present generation is so accustomed
to the sight of the female form as it ap
pears in stays that a woman who dis
penses with this adjunct of the toilet is
sure to be curiously commented on. Our
favorite contralto, Madame Antoinette
Stirling, prides herself on the fact that
she has never worn stays and never will
do so; but I suppose she is unaware of
the remarks which her appearance some
times calls forth in a miscellaneous au
dience. Often I have heard the ques
tion pass from lip to lip in a concert hall
where she was singing: "What a fright
ful figure she has!" "How badly her
dress fits!" And these remarks come from
men as well as women. Ellen Teriy dis
penses with stays and all her gowns in
Juliet are mere shapeless wrappers of
different degrees of splendor. But Ellen
Terry has the figure of a slim girl of
thirteen bust less, high shouldered,
square-wais ted; in fact, that of the model
sthete, Fred Treves says no woman
could live an instant if her waist were
no bigger than th.*e represented in
the French fashion plates; but there is
an actress Kate Vaiighan, whose waist
is for thinness a sight to behold. Jt
is so small, round column, like a section
of little store pipe, and it seems not
very much bigger than her own neck.
Yet Kate Vaughan lives, danoes, sings
and turns the heads of her crutch-and
toothpick adorers.
All sorts of makers of hygienic ap
parel put in a commercial appearance
at the Health Exhibition. A staymaker
exhibits corsets whose entire front is
elastic webbing, wluoh yields at every
movement and only expands the more
witjb lacing. It was especially designed
for the use of women during a season
when tight lacing would be more than
injudicious,it would take the proportions
of a crime. But there is no time when
w >men might not use with advantage
stays thus fashioned. The simple truth
is that very frequently women are over
laced when they really do not know it.
The internal organs are so easily com
pressible that, as Mr. Treves said, a wo
men who has not the slightest idea or
intention of tight lacing, may be unduly
compressed by a matter of two inches,
while a really tightly-laced woman re
duces her moral waist-size some eight or
ten. The diagrams hanging around the
walls of the room in which the exhibi
tion is held show the female form divine
as it should be, with the size and loca
tion of the interior organs distinctly de
lined. These pictures must give the
nightmare to some of the fashionable
girls and woman who attend the exhibi
tion. Nevertheless must I alas confess
that, to the eye of the modem, the
ladies so attired at present a dainty
frou-frou appearance with which those
habited in the new hygienic apparatus
sadly contrast. It is this quality of con
cealing defects and exaggerating beau
ties in the wearer which forms the
stronghold of modern fashionable attire.
A New Submarine Teasel.
A young Roumanian engineer, M.
Trajan Theodoresco, has constructed a
submarine vessel which quite puts al
that has been made hitherto in the
shade. The ship, if it does not exceed
certain dimensions, can be levigated
for twelve hours at 100 feet under water
without being raised to the surface.
The working at the surface is similar to
that of an ordinary steamship. The
speed is not so great as that of some
steamers, but it is. nevertheless superior
to that of sail boats. The immersion is
effected by screws. Once under water,
enough light is supplied to be able to see
obstacles at a distance of one hundred
and thirty feet, and the movement is so
regulated as to avoid them. The supply
of air for tke crew will last twelve hours,
and can be renewed without coming to
the surface by means of telescopic tubes.
The propulsion and immersion are ar
ranged to cause no noise. If all these
claimed advantages are continued in
practice, the new vessel will be a most
formidable submarine offensive weapon.
But it car also be used for more profita
ble purposes. In the Matchin Canal
near Bralia. there has lain since May,
1877, the wreck of Lutfi Djeit, on
board of which was the ooffer of the
Turkish Flotilla cn the Danube, contain •
Lug the treasure of the fleet, whioh it
will perhaps be possible to recover by
means of the new submarine boat.
-*u*tioe Lat-e but Sure.
Socrates was a stonecutter by trade,
but too lazy to follow so honest a calling.
He loved to talk too well, and spent his
lime lounging on street corners and gather
ing young men as idle as himself around
liirn. llis personal appearance was dis
gusting in the extreme, and one has but to
gaze upon the Louvre cast in the gallery
of which we are so justly proud, to
straightway sympathize with poor, abused
Xsntippe. He had a flat nose, thick hps
prominent eyes, low, broad figure, and
awkward gait, went barefooted and half
clad, was a bitter euemj to clean]mess,
and a mountebank in manners. He married
a woman to whom he was attracted by
her singular conversational powers, and
although he believed he himself excelled
all his contemporaries in that respect, yet,
he lound that she far excelled him iu
the command of language. He cared
nothing for the welfare of his wife or
children, left them to cupp >rt themselves
as best they might, while he spent the
time he could spare from the curbstone
seances, and wasted the treasures of his
ihought at the feet of Aspaiia aud Theo
dote, whom he pretended to desire to con
vert, that he might thereby add lustre to
his own name—sly old dog—and in addi
tion to all this, he would jnvite the lazy
crea'ures who surrounded him to diue
with him when there was nothing in the
house to entertain them with.
It is natural that this would be very ir
ritating to a proud-spirited woman who
was struggling for herself and little ones.
What woman in existence could have
borne her soul in patience uuder such pro
vocation ?
Three DogF*
Those about the White House say that
wheo Hayes was President, a strange, lean,
gray dog stood waicli at taa house both
day and night, and could not be driven
away. That when Garfield became Presi
dent, a yellow terrier put in an appearance,
the Hayes dog disappearing. The yellow
dog was first seen on the day of inaugura
tion. It, followed Garfield's carriage from
the capitol to the White House, an 1 per
sistently remained until the day of the -
assassination, when it mysteriously disap
peared. When Arthur donned the Execu
tive robe a large bundle dog of a mongrel
species too a up his home iu a clump of a
shrubbery directly in trout of the north
door. The attendants at the President's
house posit vely aver that this Presidential
dog story is the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth.
WE r ; all a Gou made us, and ort-'O
- a g -eat deal worse,
NO 23.