VOL. LVI.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
J C. fcPKINGER,
Fashionable Barber,
Next Door to JOC&KAL Store,
MILLB&IH, PA.
JJROCKERHOFF HOUSE,
ALLEGHENY ETLIEET,
BELLKFONTK, ... PjL
C G. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOB
Good Sample Room on Pi rat Floor.
Buss to and from all Trains Spec ial
fates to witnesses and Jurors. 4-1
IRVIN nOUSE.
(Most Central Hotel tn Uie City j
Corner MAIN and JAY Streets,
Lock Haven, Pa.
S. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor.
Good bauipie Rooms Idi Commercial
Travelers on first door.
J~jR. D. H. MINGLE.
Physician and Surgeon,
MAIN Street, MILLHEIM, Pa.
JOHN F. HARTER,
PRACTICAL DENTIST,
Office iu id story ol iduiliusou's Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, MILI.HKIM, Pa.
Br KiMTIK,
• FASHIONABLE BOOT ± SHOE MAKER
Simp next door to Foote'a Store, Mam St.,
Boots Shoes an>l Oa tens made to order, and sat
isfiu-ion work'guaranteed. Repa:nugdoneprompt
ly ami cheaply, anil in a neat style.
6. R. PEALS. H. A. MCKKK.
PEALK Ac McKEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Offlce opposite Court House, Beilefonte, Pa.
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
A BOVVER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office in German's new trolldlng.
JOHX B. LIXX,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
northwest corner of Diamond.
IT 57 uasTiaoa,
A'LTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street, 2 doors Heal ol office
formerly occupied tiy the late arm of Yocum A
Hastings.
HOY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Orphans Court business a >pectalty.
Sire .HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices m all the courts of Centre county.
Bpec al attention to collections. Consultations
In German or English.
J. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart.
JgEAVER & GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA."
Office ou Alleghany Street, North ot High.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Yy KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA,
Consultations In English, or German. Office
in Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street.
"NTA IUSTINOS. W. FRKBDEH.
"P|~ AaXIX QS & REEDER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny street, two doors east of the
office occupied by ths late firm of Hast
ings. 0-t7
•'MM. "BSJ ""■ L
ike pilllei* §n§r§l
THE OPEN WINDOW.
The old house by the lindens
Stood silent tn the shade,
And on the graveled pathway
The light and shadow played.
1 saw the nursery windows
Wide open to the air;
But the faces of the chlldreu.
They were no louger there.
The large Newfoundland house dog
Was standing by the door;
tie looked for his little playmates.
Who would return no more.
They walked not under the llndeus,
They played not In the hall;
But shadow and silence and saduess
Were hangiug over all.
The birds sang in the branches
With sweet, familiar tone;
But the voices of the chlldreu
Will be heard in dreams alone!
And the boy that walked beside me.
He could not understand
Wny closer In mine, ah! closer,
I pressed his warm, soft hand!
A DOUBLE MISTAKE.
"A letter for you. Aunt Thankful."
A bright young face, like a gleam of
April sunsh'ue, flashed into the room
where Miss Thankful Moore sat knitting
- a pretty, girlish face, with a saucy
dimple in either cheek and a merry
sparkle in the laughing eyes. A mam
moth blue-checked apron much too
large for her, quite enveloped her slen
der form, and both sleeves were fastened
up above the elbows displaying two
piump. snowy arms, the sight of which
would have sent thrills of envy to the
heart of any ball-room belle.
'•Lay it "on the table, child, and go
back to your morning's work."
"Who do you suppose its from?"
questioned the girl, turning the letter
over, and viewing the superscription cu
uously.
"I'll see soou's ever I've knit to the
seam-needle. I make it a p'iut never
to lay things aside in a muddle, uo
matter what happens."
"The girl colored consciously."
"Oh, that everlasting seam-uee<lle!
I believe sometimes you knit past it just
to keep me waiting."
"Harriet!"
Mia* Thankful never used this name iu
addressing her niece except when ex
tremely displeased. Slowly and care
fully she folded her work, sticking the
needles firmly and securely into the ball;
then wiping her spectacles an unneces
sary length of time upon her spotless
apron, she adjusted them in their proper
position across her nose, and took up the
letter.
Meanwhile, Harrie had down back to
the kitchen, where she gave vent to her
impatience by making a great clattering
among the breakfast dishes.
"She's the dearest old auntie in the
world!" she said, "but she does try me
so with her awfiil precision. She'd like
to spend the rest of her life in the un
varying routine of the old family clock
on the mantel yonder. But I can t; I'm
too full of life and activity. I want
something new, as dearly as I love her,
I'd like a change once iu a while. Aunt
Thankful and the old clock are just
alike. The tick, tick, tick of the clock,
and the click, click of her knitting
needles, are about the only sounds 1
hear, except the occasional racket I
make just byway of variation. The
clock is a perfect model of accuracy and
promptness, so is she. They never
make a mistake or go wrong."
In the next room. Miss Thankful
Moore had taken the letter from the
envelope and had read it twice before
commenting upon it. Then dropping
it into her lap her face assumed a
thoughtful expression, her eyes took a
dreamy look; and no wonder, for she
was gazmg far back into the past —full
forty years.
"Strange, Strange!" she murmured,
meditatively, "that Mehetable should
have writ to me alter all these years.
She's moved to Cramblevilie quite
lately, and wants to renew our acquain
tance, she says. Only twenty-five milse
from here, an' the cars run right past
her house an' mine, too. Seems' most
like bein' neighbors. She's a widow,
poor thing! an' her children are all dead
an' gouo but Nell. Well, well! I
haven't been called upon to pass through
them afilictions, an' I reckon on the
hull, as how I'm as contented as most
o' women u' my age. I'm right glad
that she hasn't any boys. Her NeU
must be quite a girl, Mehetable's every
bit as old as I am, an' Nell's her young
est, she said. 1 wouldn't wonder if
she's about Harrie's age. Dear me!
how that girl does fret. She's so lone
some. I dou't know's I blame her,
either. I was young an' chipper once
myself. Mehetable writ an' invited me
to come an' spend a week or two with
her. I couldn't think of leaving home
for so long a time. Things would go
to rack an' ruin if I did. But it would
be a real treat for Harrie, an' 1 could
run down an' stay a couple c' days
when she's ready to come home, If
Mehetable's as giib a talker as she used
to be, we can talk up the past 40 years
iu two days, an' not half try. It's a
blessed thing that only got a
daughter, ll she had growu up sons,
I'd never tli nk o' lettin' Harrie go; for
she's pretty, thee's no deny in' that.
Yes, I'll answer Mehetable's letter right
off, an' ask her if Harrie may come for
a week or two. It'll be a change for
her, an' like as not, she'll be more con
tented a'ter she gets home again.
"A letter for you, mother, and the
very superscription is as good as the
photo of the writer. I can imagine a
prim, dignified Bpinster of uncertain age,
to whom the least shadow of indecorum
is an unpardonable sin. Mrs, Mehetable
Morton! Why little mother Hetty,
your name looks very unnatural, it is so
plainly precise. I wonder if she accepted
your invitation to make us a visit. I
hope not, for we'll have to drop all pet
names while she's here. She'll Mehe
table you and Nelson me. I wouldn't
be surprised but that she considers it
altogether too familiar to address people
by their given names aud we will at
once be promoted to Mr. and Mrs."
"Do let me take the letter Nei. I'm
so anxious to read what she has written.
!She used to be my dearest friend, years
MILLHEIM. PA.. THURSDAY, JULY 20,1882.
ago when we were little girls. I haven't
seen her for a great many years. Ah!
just as I thought; she can't leave homo
for any length of time; but she writes
that Peter's child—Peter was her
broth* r, two or tnree years younger
than herself—is with her. She thinks
that the child is lonely, and heeds a
change quite badly. If it will not be a
bother to us, she will send Harrie down
tor a week or two, ami she will come at
the end of that time and make me a
short visit.
Nel puckered up his lips and gave
vent to a long, expressive whistle.
"A little boy's next thing to an old
maid. What will we do with the small
tornado, mother?"
"Oh, Nel, you'll have to amuse him
iu some way! As for me, I rather like
the idea of having a child about once
more, I've lost my little boy, you know,"
witti a fond, upward glance.
"Speaking of that lost boy of yours
reminds me that I've an old chest of
tools in the garret, and I'll win las
everlasting friendship, aud bring the
condemnation of Aunt Thankful down
on my devoted head, by presenting them
on the very dsy of his arrival,"
"I'll have Bridget fix up the little
room next to yours lor Harrie. She eau
make it so cosy and pleasant; and you
must take him out on the lake in your
sailboat occasionally,"sanl Mrs Morton,
whose kindly heart was instantly filled
with plans for the comfort and pleasure
of the unexpected guest
"What a pity that the depot isn't
nearer!" said Nel, reflectively. 1 guess
I'll take the horses iusteail of the car
riage when Igo to meet him. The
little fellow will he delighted with a
horseback ride. Who ever saw a boy
that wasn't?"
"Of course he will, the poor little
dear, expect he's had rather a sorry
time of it, with only Thankful for com
pany. He shall make all the noise lie
lores for the next two weeks."
Mrs. Morton instantly answered Miss
Moore's letter, setting an early day for
Harrie's visit
The day arrived, and Nel, with one
of the carriage ponies and Lis own
handsomo horse, started for the depot
In a few moments the train came thun
dering in, and the usual bustle and
hurry ensued.
Nel vainly searched among the new
arrivals for his little charge. There
was a little boy with his nurse, ami a
big boy with his father; but no boy
answering the description of the one
Nel was in search of.
"Dear me!" he said, iu perplexity,
"1 hope he hasn't been taken on with
the train. '
At that moment he espied a young
lady, whose wide, blue eyes wore a very
anxious expression, as she searched the
faces of those about her iu vain attempt
to fiud the one for which she was look
ing. Stepping up to her side, Nel lifted
his hat politely, and asked if he could
assist her in any way
"I expected a young lady to meet me
at tiiis train, but 1 fear that something
has occurred to detain her," she said
with tears of vexation in her eyes."
"And I came to escort a little boy,
who has failed to put in an appearance,
to my home," he said, smiling. "If
you will tell me the young lady's name,
perhaps 1 may assist you in finding her
residence."
"Her name is Nel Morton," she
answered.
"And tiie little boy 1 was to meet at
this train was Harrie Moore!" exclaimed
Nel, while his features went through a
series of contortions, in a vain attempt
to conceal the merriment which tins
ludicrous mistake stirred up withiu him.
"Are —you —Nell?"
Harrie looked up at the tall, hand
some, broad-shouldered young man in
bewildered surprise, scarcely knowing
whether to laugn or cry at the mistake.
"My name is Nelson, but mother
always calls me Nel," he explained,
pitying her evident embarrassment.
"And you must bo Harrie, whom
mother sent me to meet. I shall have
to take you into the ladies waiting-room
until I make some changes in my ar
rangements for conveying you home."
Procuring a hack, he placed her in it,
and aftir giving the directions to the
driver, he mounted his horse, and taking
the pony's bridle, rode by the side of
the naek, so that he might reach home
in time to introduce Harrie to his moth
er and relieve her from further embar
rassment.
"It is all on the account of the names,"
said Mrs. Morton, laughing heartily, as
she kissed Harrie's flushed cheeks, "but
I'm ever so glad that you are not a
little boy, dear! I shall enjoy your
society so much better."
"I shall not break my heart over the
disappointment," thought Nel, as he
cast admiring glances at the bright,
animated young face opposite.
"Oh, what would Aunt Thankful ray,
if she knew?" said Harrie, as she stood
before the mirror, letting down her long,
gold-brown hair, in the lovely guest
chamber where Mrs. Morton hail left
her with a good-night kiss still warm on
her lips.
The room fitted up for the little boy's
comfort stood unoccupied, and Harrie
knew nothiug of it, or the chest of tools
with which Nel had planned to purchase
her affections.
"Such a lovely tie!—and I brought it
to Nell," she said, viewing the dainty
article of lace aud embroidery admir -
ingly. "Just imagine this ornamenting
his shirt front! Oh, dear, it is too
funny!" She laughed merrily. "I
wanted it myself, when I bought it,
only I could not afford two, and now 1
have it,"lying it about her white throat,
and smiling at the pleasing effect. "X
shall not write one word to Aunt
Thankful about the mistake. I mean
for once to enjoy myself. Mrs. Morton
is such a darling old lady, and Nel is
just splendid, if he is a man."
The next two weeks were the bright
est, happiest weeks of all Hattie's ex
istence There were suck nice long
talks with Mrs. MortoD, while Nel was
at his office, which, I am sorry to con
fess, he neglected sbameiully during
those two joyous weeks.
There were carriage rides aud boat
rides, picnics and music, until Harrie's
little foolish head was nearly iurne 1
with the pleasures she enjoyed; but the
two weeks drew to a close at last, bring
ing a letter from Aunt Thankful stating
that she would l>e with them on the
tilth.
Mrs. Morton and Harrie rode over to
the d pet in the carriage to meet her.
and brought her back in triumph with
them.
"There's no use uskin' how you've
enjoyed your visit," said Aunt Thank
ful, glancing at Harris's bright happy
face. "I'm only afraid that you'll never
be eonteuted with me again."
"Oh, ves T shall," said Harrie, "foi
I know that you are the dearest friend
i ever had."
"WHere's Nel?" asked Aunt Thankful,
after they had entered the p<orlor, aud
Mrs. Morton had seated her guest in a
large easy chair.
"Nel was obliged to be absent this
after noon and will not be home until
tea-time," said Mrs. Morton, sending a
mute dispatch across to Harrie, who
was obliged to leave the l oom instantly,
while a convulsive tremor shook her
whole form.
Httrrio was coming down the stairs
as Nel openod the front door, and their
voices cuwo floating down the loug hull
and iu through the back parlor door,
which stood ajar to where Aunt Thank
ful was sitting.
"Mehetable, whose that man talking
to my Harrie,"she asked anxiously.
£t that instant Nel and Harrie en
tered tne room together.
"Oh, said Mrs. Morton, smiling com
complacently,, 'lt's ouly NeL Miss
Moore, allow mo to make you acquaint
ed with my son Nelson, You didn't
know 1 had such a great boy, now did
you?"
"The mischief's done!" cried Aunt
Tliaukiul, sinking helpless into a chair.
"But, then, 'what can't bo cured must
be endured,'" she added, philosophi
cally, while Harrie blushed rosy and Nel
laughed merrily.
"You thought I was a young lady,
didn't you, Miss Moore?" said he. com
ing over and seating himself beside ber,
and entering into conversation in ail
easy, attractive way, that quite woa her
heart.
Auut Thankful proved a true prophet
in regard to the mischief which these
two happy weeks had accomplished;
but she oiteu re murks since Harrie must
marry somebody (aud pretty girls usu
ally do) she is awfully ghul that she
chose A sensible young man like Nel.
A Dodo.
"Professor, what is a Dodo?''
"There are several species of the Dodo,
my son, and there used to be several more
belore the fool-killer cut the country up
into regular districts."
"Please describe some of Ihtrn to me!"
"With pleasure. Ysu have probably
attended a Suuday-scLool picnic given on
the banks of a lake or river ? Six fat
women, two girls who wear eye-glasses,
and a very irood who lisps, make up a
party to take a ride on the water. As
they are ready to shove off, the Dodo ap
pears aud keeps them company."
"What is he like, aud what does he
do?"
"He is generally a soft-headed young
man under twenty-three years of age, aud
be stands up and rocks the the boat to
bear the fat women scream aud to induce
the girls to call him Gweorge."
"Does the boat up?et ?"
"It does,"
"And is everybody drowned
"Everybody except the Dodo. He al
ways reaches the shore in safely, aud he is
always so sorry that it happened. He is
sometime so affected that it takes away
Lis appetite for lunch."
"And is anything done with hnn ?"
"1 hey sometimes rub his head with a
cheap braud of peppermint essence and
turn him out to grass, but no one ever
thinks of doing him harm."
"And the next species?"
"The next species is a yjuth from six
teen to twen'y. lie labors under what
the aucietfis termed the swelihead. He
gets out the family shotgun or revolver to
show off. lie points it at some boy or
girl to see 'em snivcr, and after he has
testified before the coroner that he didu't
know it was loaded, the affair is lo9ked
upon as ended."
"Is this species on the increase ?"
"Well, no. The friends of the victims
have got to making such a fuss over these
trifles that they-didn'-know-it-was-loaded
Dodo isn't quite holding his own "
"What is the third species?"
"The third species belongs to the female
sex. Of course there are two sexes of the
Dodo. She buys arsenic to kill rats, or
corrosive sublimate to discourage bed bugp,
or Paris green to give cockroaches a hint
to skip, aud she leaves the package on the
pantry shelf alongside of her baking pow
der. She may keep 'em separate for two
or three days, but it isn't over a week bo
fore the family begins to lose their appe
tite and hire a cheap boy to go for a doc
tor and a stomack pump."
"And is she sorry ?"
"Oh, yes. Blie didn't mean to, yon
know; never thought of killing the family;
always lived happy with her husband; had
entirely forgotten that he had any life in
surance; was in a hurry aud didn't stop to
look."
"And is there yet another species of
Dodo?"
"Several others.but we haven't the time
to take 'em in detail aud give full particu
lars in each case. The man who thinks
the best horse wins, is a Dodo. The
voniau who gets into soeiety on the
strength of her false hair, suiall waist,
painted eyebrows, chalked cheeks aud
cramped feet is a Dodo The man who
thinks he can take comfort on a steamboat
excursion—the man who goes on a fishing
excursion—the woman who weeps over
the heathen—the girl who writes poetry
on sunsets —the young man looKiug lor a
necktie to become hira—the old man who
marries a young wife —why, it would take
me an hour to mention them all. Put
away your books in a carerul manner and
we will walk out and see some live speci
mens of the Dodo. I know of one who
has engaged to deliver a Fourth of July
oration, and perhaps we may get a shot at
him."
In these times we fight for ideas and
newspapers are our fortresses.
Want of good sense is the worst of
poverty.
The Field of Waterloo.
A traveler writes us from Brussels as
follows. "About twelve miles directly
south of this place is the famous battle
field of Waterloo. 1 took the cars Sun
day morning to visit the ground where
the greatest warrior the world ever knew
met his defeat, his overthrow, and utter
ruiu; where in the space of a few hours
a cruisa ler wai hurled from the pinacle
of fame, became a refugee, a prisoner in
the hands of his enemies, end started on
that lonesome Journey to the desolate,
barren, and rocky islaud of St. Helena,
where in solitude Napoleon ended his
days. This battle decided the destinies of
Europe. I arrived on the field at 9
o'clock. It was a bright sunny morning,
and 1 thought how, on Sunday morning
of June 18, 1815, Napoleon, at the head
of his army, marched on to the fatal
ground, and in less than eight hours he
was a fleeing fugitive, and 40,000 men lay
weltering in their gore. Had I the pen of
Victor llugo I would paint the scene, but
as 1 have not, 1 mint be content with sim
ply relating how the grounds now appear.
The field is a rolling piece of iand,
crossed by three roads, with shade trees
along the road?. On the west side of the
road where Napoleon and Wellington
met, and about thirty rods south of the
cross roads stands a monument erected to
the memory of Alexander Gorton, wLo
fell here iu this battle. Directly opposite
oil the Last side of the road stands one
erected by the officers of the king's Ger
man legion, to the memory of the com
panions at arms who fell here. These
monuments stand where the fight was the
thickest. The mound of earth 141 feet
high stands ia the cei.tre of the field ; on
top of this is a base built of blocks of
stone twenty-five feet high ; on top of a'l
is u cast iron iiou weighing 2,800 pounds,
and measures twenty.oue feet long and
ten feet high. This mound of earth is
ouilt in ttie shape ot a cone, being 1 680
feet in circumference at its base, and forty
feet at lis apex, and cost 3,000,000 franc®,
The monument was built by the Prince of
OraDge, in 1822 5. There are 225 stone
steps leading lrom its base to the top.
The king of Belgium ought to receive, as
1 have uo doubt he does, the public
condemnation of the world for desecrating
and destroying the general appearance ot
this memorable battle field in order to
erect a monument for himself.
The long low ridge of laud behind
which Wellington's men poured the teiri
ble tempest of lead into the breast of Na
poleon's imperial gaurds, is one of the
most interesting portions of the field. The
guide snowed me where Napoleon's re
nowned battalions marched unflinchingly
up to Wellington's batteries, which were
loaded to the inuzz'e with grape and can
ister. lie showed me where Ney had four
horses shot from under him, and his
clothes were pierced with buliets. I was
shown the old farm residence surrounded
by the brick wall behind which tour com
panies of Euglish killed 2,000 Frenchmen
in less than an hour. In this brick wall,
and in the building the scars made by
cannon and miisket balls are plain to be
seen. 1 walked over the ground where
Wellington aud Napoleon struggled tor the
mastery. 1 took a long stroll up the road
where Napoleon marched his forces from
(ju&trc Bras. This road was paved by
Napoleon, aud is in a good state of preser
vation. 1 walked the whole length of the
ravine, about one and a half miles long,
where the battle was the hottest, aud
down to the old farm house, and over the
ridge of land where Welhugton kept his
men under cover. 1 examined the ground
where Napoleon's artillery stuck last in
soft soil of the newly-plowed field. 1 went
up on top ot the mound where the Belgium
lion stands, aud saw the distant woods
where Blucher with his fresh troops came
like an avalanche upou Napoleon. 1 saw
the road Napoleon took when he retreated
back to Q ifttre Bras. This rapid retreat
did not eud until he reached St. Helena.
Nearly the whole of the battle field is
uow covered with fields ol growing grain,
and one a half mile? from the railroad, 1
crossed aud recrossed the newly sown
fields, lookiug for relics; I found four, that
I shall bring home with me. I cut some
little limbs from a black thorn large enough
for pen-holders, growing on top of the
earth mound. I speut six hours on this
battle field.
The battle-ground is owned by persons
residing in Brussels and i 9 occupied by
tenants who pay 200 francs annual rent
per acre; it is too high. The t< Dement
buildings are built of briok and thatched
with straw. One looked so neat I thought
i would go in aud get a luuch to see how
they lived. By signs 1 made my wants
known. They set out bread, cheese, and
home made Deer. It was good. They
were as neat as wax. The floors were
covered with white sand; the children
locked clean and neat. I could not tell
how to many could occupy such a little
house. 1 took out a handful of small
chauge and moiioued for the lady to pick
out her pay, she took five centimes (one
ceni). This was simplicity that 1 have
never seen even in America. I gave the
children twenty centimes, and motio led a
good- bye.
Burned at the Stake.
On the 10th of June, the Pioneer As
sociation, of Wyandot county, Ohio,
observed the oue hundredth anniversary
of the burning, at the stake, by the In
dians, of Col. William Crawford. He
was captured by the Delaware Indians
and the warriors decided he must die.
But before they could carry out their
decree it was necessary to obtain the
consent of the tVyaudots. The Dela
ware ludians were tenants-at-will in tli#
Wyandota' country aud burning at the
stake was an obsolete custom with
them. Without the consent of the Half
Kiug tfle captors of Colonel Crawford
did not dare to inflict the death penal
ty. A messenger, bearing a belt of
wampum, was sent to the Half King,
with the following message : "Uncle !
We, your nephews, the Lenni Lenape
(the Indian name of the Delawares),
salute you in a spirit of kindness, love
and respect. Uncle! We have a pro
ject in view which we ardently wish to
accomplish if our uncle will not over
rule us 1 By returning the wampum
we will have your pledged word." Half
King, concluding it was a contemplated
expedition of a Delaware war party in
teuding to strike so ne of the whitj set
tlements, returned the belt to tli 3 mes
senger saying: "Say to my nephews
they have my pledge." This was a
death warrant to the unfortunate Craw
ford.
As soon as the fleet runner had re
turned from the Half King's village
with the now torture-empowering belt
of wampum, Colonel Crawford was hur
ried forth to his plaoo of torture. It
was on the 11th day of June, an I the
afternoon was well spent when Craw
ford, under escort of his tormentors,
arrived at this ever memorable spot of
ground. They here met many Wyan
dots from the Half King's town, and
men, squaws and oliildren from the
Delaware Village, over which Captain
Pipe ruled. A fire was brightly burn
ing. Crawford was stripped naked and
ordeted to sit down upon the fire. The
Indians now beat him with their fists
and sticks. The fatal stake— a post
about fifteen feet high—had been set
firmly iu t ie ground and piles of hickory
poles, thicker than a mail's thumb and
from eight to fcwelye feet long, lay ai
the distance of four or five yards from
the stake. Crawford's hands were tied
behind his back. A strong rope was
produced, one end of which was fasten
ed to the ligature between his wrists
and the other tied to the post near the
ground. The rope was long enough to
permit him to walk around the stake
several times and then return. Craw
ford o >serviug these terri le prepara
tions, called to Simon Girty, who sat on
horseback at a distance of a few yards
from tin* fire, and asked if the Indians
were going to burn him. Girty very
coolly replied in the affirmative. Craw
fo d heard the reply with firmness,
merely observing tliat he would bear it
with fortitude. When the poles had
beeu burned asunder in the middle
Captain Pipe arose and atldresse i the
crowd in a tone of gre it energy and
with animated gestures, pointing fre
quently to Crawford, who regarded him
with an appearance of u ruffled com
posure. As soon as he had ended his
harangue a loud wlioop burst from the
assembled throng and all made a rush
for the unfortunate prisoner. When
they left liim his ears were gone aud
blood was stream ng from the c:uel
wounds.
A terrible scene of torture now began.
The warriors shot charges of powder
into bis naked body, commencing with
the calves of liis legs and continuing to
his neck. Three or four Indians by
turns would take up oue of the burning
pieces of pole aud apply the burning
end to his naked body, already burnt
black with powder. These tormenters
presented themselves on every side of
him, so that whichever way ha ran
round the post they met him with the
burning brands. Home of the squaws
took broad pieces >f bark, upon which
they could carry a quantity of burning
coals aud hot embers, and threw on him
so that in a liort time he had nothing
but coals of fire and hot ashes to walk
upon ! In the midst of these extreme
tortures, Crawford called to Girty and
begged of him to shoot liim through
the heart. "Don't you see I have uo
gun, Colonel. " replied the wliite sav
age monster, bursting into a laugh, aud
then turning to the Indian beside him
he uttered some brutal jests apon the
naked and miserable appearance of the
suffering prisoner and seemed delighted
at the horrid scene. The terrible scene
had now lasted more than two hours,
and, Crawford had become very much
exhausted. He walked slowly arouu i
the stake upon his fiery pathway, and
in a low tone of voice earnestly be
sought God to pardon all his sins and
have mercy on his soul. His nerves
had lost much of tlieir sensibility and
lie no longer shrank from the fire brauds
with which his tormentors touched
him. At length he sank in a fainting
fit upon his face ar.d lay motionless,
instantly an Indian sprang upon his
back, knelt Ughtly on his knee, made a
circular incision with his knife upon
the crown of his head and, clapping the
knife between his teeth, tore the scalp
off with both hands. Scarcely had
this been done than a withered old hag
approached with a piece of bark full of
coals aud burning embers and poured
them upon the crown of his head, now
laid bare to the bone. The Colonel
groaned deeply, arose and again walked
slowly around the state. Nature at
lcDgtli could endure no more and at a
late hour in the evening he fell for the
last time.
A City Under Ground.
For the past six months the work of
digging the canal to connect Lakes
Eustis aud Dora in order to open up the
more southern lakes of the "Great Lake
Region of Florida" has been prosecuted.
The second cutting of the canal was
finished recently. At the outlet of Lake
Dora the sand bar had already been cut
to the depth of nearly or quite three
feet on the previous digging, and was
dug about two feet deeper last week. At
a distance of over four feet below the
old level of Lake Dora a mound was
discovered. The first excavations re
vealed the existence of a clearly defined
wall lying in a line tending toward the
sou tli west from where it was first struck.
This wall was composed of a dark brown
sandstone, very much crumbled in places,
but more distinct, more clearly defined,
and the stono more solid as the digging
increased in depth. The wall was evi
dently the eastern side of an ancient home
or fortification, as the slope of the outer
wall was to the west.
About eiglit feet from the slope of the
eastern wall a mound of sand was struck,
imbedded in the muck formation above
and around it. This sand mound was
dug into only a few inches, as the depth
of the water demanded but a slight in
creased depth of the channel at that
point, but enough was discovered to
warrant the belief that here on the
northwestern shore of Lake Dora is sub
merged a city or town or fortification
older by centuries than anything yet
discovered in this portion of Florida.
Small curiously-shaped blocks of sand
stone, some of them showing traces of
fire, pieces of pottery and utensils made
of a mottled flint, were thrown out by
the men whi'e working waist deep in
water. A spear-head of mottled Hint,
five and a half inches long by one and
a quarter inches wide, nicely fidished,
was taken from the top of the sand
mound and about four feet below the
Water-level of the lake,
Uwleuneii Hun Wild.
The southern wing of Puna county,
Arizona, is rapidly earning a reputation
tor lawlessness and abject wickedness that,
if it holds out, will lay Lincoln county,
New Mexico, in the shade. Tne budding
of the Arizona and New Mexico Railroad
to the Bonora border has been introduced
a band of reckless characters from al 1 parts
of the country, and owing to the facility
of escape afforded by the close proximity
of Sonoro crimes of more than usual vici
ousncss has been prevalent of late. It is
no exaggeration to say that the Sonoita
valley, through which the railroad passes,
has been thoroughly irrigated with blood.
Mexicans from Sonoro, Irishmen from
Galway, Englishmen from Cornwall, Gar
mans from Luxemburg. Italians from the
banks of the Arno, Russians from the
steppes of the Oural, Scandinavians from
Denmark, Sweden and Norwav, and
Americans from every part of this vast
continent, have contributed their mite to
heterogeneous medley.
For some time back the American and
Mexican laborers have not been getting
along amiably. Frequent and heavy doses
of mescal on one side and bad whisky on
the other led to frequent disputes, and the
lively six-shooter and keen blade have been
made to play a prominent part in the settle
ment of disputes. Not more than three
weeks ago an American and a Mexican
engaged in a drunken brawl and the latter
was shot and instantly killed. A COM
ner's jury was held the next day and the
murderer was made foreman of the jury,
The evidence was clear and explicit as re
gards the shooting and the identity of the
participants. Nothing was smoothed over
snd held back. It was an honest, open
investigation The jury retired and after
an absence of twenty minutes returned the
following verdict : "We, the jury em
paneled in the above-named case, having
examined the body, do declare that the
name of the deceased, when living, was
Jose Moreno; that a stiff Arizona zephyr
was blowing across the plains on Tuesday
evening, and that the wind concentrating
on one point a hole was bored through the
said Jose and he died in consequence.''
1 Lie chief seat of the deviltry is on the
border; sometimes the ruffl ins are in one
country and sometimes in the other. Cal
abasas, Tar Flat and Crittenden are way
stations, not unfamiliar with the crack of
a pistol or the sharp shriek indicating the
entry of a knife into the human body,
[go's ranch is situated about a equil dis
tance from the places named, and not
more than an hour's walk from Bonora.
Sunday evening a number of Mexicans
with their families arrived in fthe vicinity
of the ranch and went into camp. There
were fourteen men and eight women and
girls in the party. A number of railroad
ers were engaged m a general jamboree at
a neighboring saloon,and were soon joined
by the Mexicans, and a kind of an inter
national drunk Indulged in. Boon the
railroaders began to covet the Mexican
women and a demand was formally made
for their surrrender This, of course, was
refused and a row ensued. Pistols and
knives were drawn and freely used. The
noise of exploding shots, the shouting of
men and tne shrieking of women for a
time made the atmosphere hideous. In
half an hour it was all over and the smoke
cleared away. Seven Mexic ms lay stark
dead and thrice that number of Mexicans
and Americans were lying on the ground
writhing in the agonies of • pain. Three
of the Americans were fatally wounded
and are probably dead by this time, and it
is expected that two more of the Mexicans
will (lie. Of course the chief instigators
of the terrible deed, if not dead or serious
ly wounded, are across the border ani out
of the reach of the officers.
A Peculiar Calendar.
If tlfe length of the shadow on the 21st
of June is divided into four equal parte,
and the length on the 21st of December
into two equal parts, we shall have six
equal measures of length corresponding
with six unequal intervals of time; these
intervals may then be distinguished ac
cording to the length ot the shadow.
The Japanese avail themselves of this
peculiarity of shadows in their country
to adjust the division of their solar year,
the first day of which corresponds with
the 2lßt of June of tne Gregorian reckon
ing. They divide the year into twelve
equal months (maugsa,) which are re
spectively 41, 23, 24, 25, 27, 43, 43, 26,
25, 24, 23 and 24 days long. Indepen
dently of this division, the farmer plants
his rice and other crops according to tae
height of Orion and the Pleiades above
the horizon. This height is taken eitner
at nightfall, half an hour after sunset, or
in the morning, half an hour before the
-unrise. The following are the names of
the calendar months, and the most import
ant observations and farmers' rules that
are connected with them.
First month (Kasa), forty one days,
from the 21st of June to the 81st ot July
inclusive. Oreon and Pleiades are visible
in the east, respectively 21 and 45 degress
above ihe horizon. The sun turns back
toward the south; a man's shadow at noon
reaches four feet south. The fresh water
!ish iwab bettik has one spot on its head.
It is time to plant the second crop of
rice.
Second month (Kara), twenty-three
lays long, from the Ist to the 23d of An
The Pleiades are in the zenith, 70
degrees above the eastern horizon. The
iwak bettik has two spots. The sun goes
farther toward the south. A man's shadow
at noon measures two leet south.
Waves and Ttdes.
Engineering skill has not yet succeeded
in utibzing as motive powers the vast
forces represented uy the ebb and flow of
the '.ides and the action of sea waves.
Various attempts to accomplish this have,
,however, been made, ani two recent
s hemes have been lately described. In the
plan proposed recently, a large bell moves
up and down in the stone enclosure, and
is connected with a large float io tae sea.
The rising and falling of this bell is used
to force air into a chamber, and this com
pressed air may be employed to drive
machinery. In the scheme adopted by
Professor Wellner, of Brunn, there is fixed
along a sea wall a sort of aii-trap—a mt
tallic case, opea below, now in air, now in
water, as the waves beat upon it. At tbe
top this commuuic ites thio'.gh valves and
pipes with a reservoir, in wnic t the air is
compressed, and the force thus supplied
.nay be directly u iiized for many pur
poses.
NO 29.